It’s nearly Independence Day here and America–a time to celebrate all we’ve fought to achieve. Freedom. Independence. The American Dream.
And it’s been a week, hasn’t it? A week of big decisions for our country with far-reaching implications. A week where all the Supreme Court justices wrote an opinion about their verdict on same-sex marriage–quite a rarity, that–and all affirmed a very important principle: that this decision could not interfere with freedom of speech and religion on the part of churches with a moral objection to said decision.
That was the silver lining. But it’s a silver lining that will mean nothing if we don’t exercise it. Far too often people trample the rights granted to us by the law, and we have to fight back…or we lose them.
But it applies to far more than whether we think same-sex marriage wrong. It applies to absolutely everything we believe, and everything we’re willing–or not–to take a stand for. It should make us ask a very important question: if the terror and persecution Isis is bludgeoning the other side of the world with makes its way here, what do we do? If our government continues to press its heel into the spine of religion, what do we do? If leaders continue to tell us we have to change our core beliefs, what do we do?
All too often, I think we ask, “What can we do?”
So we sit. And we flip away from the news channel when it reports yet another mass-beheading in Africa or the Middle East–after all, we’re so far away…what can we do?
We just shake our head when we learn of another Bible study shut down or Christian organization wrongly pursued by the IRS. After all, it’s just one too-noisy group…what can we really do?
We tell ourselves that if it comes down to it, we’ll take a stand. We’ll fight for what’s right. We won’t let terror rule our lives or dictate to us. But…what can we do?
In pre-WWII Germany, there were plenty of people who saw where the tide was turning. They saw the dangers coming their way. There was one man, a pastor, who wanted to make sure his people, his country, didn’t give in to this evil he felt surging–this evil that would annihilate the Jews if it could, and who was turning on Christianity too. He formed a group of fellow believers. People who claimed they would go to prison–or a concentration camp, as the case may be–rather than go silently along with the atrocities. He formed a group 10,000 strong, all pledging to stand firm.
Do you know how many followed through? Spoke up, spoke out? Went to prison for their beliefs? Three. Three. This pastor and two others.
Three.
It brings the story of Lot to mind, doesn’t it? And Abraham pleading, “Oh, Lord, if there be but ten righteous men, will you spare them?”
But they just sat there. Because they were afraid.
I know that analogies involving Hitler are over-done, but I’m not really looking right now at that one evil man. I’m looking at a nation that let him have power, that went silently along with him. I’m not concerned with him–I’m concerned with them. And I’m concerned with us. Because we all say we’re committed to standing against atrocities–but when it comes down to it, are we?
The numbers of martyred Christians and Jews in the last two years is absolutely staggering–yet we sit silently by, here on the other side of the world. We pray for them–which I would never belittle…but only when we think about it
The world is a scary place right now. It really is. And when a situation gets this explosive, two things can happen: either the bad guys continue to wage their war of terror and everyone else just lets them, for fear of getting killed…or people stand up, good fighting evil, and revival sweeps the globe.
We have missionary friends poised to move to Bulgaria. Their goal, on past missions trips there, was to bring faith to a people too long stripped of it by communism. When they first went to Bulgaria, they were among the first to do so after communism fell, and they found a people desperately thirsty for the Word of God. Now these same people are in an amazing position–they are poised on the very edge of east and west, with refugees fleeing Isis encamped about them. They are in position to minister themselves.
These friends recently went to a conference of like-minded ministries, and they spoke to countless people all saying the same thing: for decades we ministered to Eastern Europe, and now Eastern Europe is in a position to minister to the Middle East.
Revival is waiting. But if it sweeps across the globe, will it come here too? Or will we shut it out, flip the channel, because we don’t want to hear about the horrors it has to fight against? Will we sit by while our freedoms to gather, to worship, to speak out are slowly whittled away?
We need to stop asking “What can we do?” and just stand. Vocally, firmly, without fear. Don’t just give money or say a prayer once every week or two. Commit this daily to prayer. Earnestly seek God on what you can do. And then, hardest of all–be willing to do it.
I know I provided an almost-transcript of my sermon (man, that feels weird to type, LOL) from the other week, but I thought it would be fun to post the video today. As always, things changes a bit as I turned written notes into spoken words.
Last weekend I had the joy of filling for my dad in the pulpit at our church. I’ve done this once before, but it was many, many years ago. Like, before Rowyn was born, I think…so yeah. It’s been a while, LOL. But I’d just been thinking, a day or two before he asked me, that I wanted to start expanding my speaking repertoire–you know, so that it included something other than my publishing story. š
As I prayed about what to talk about, my mind kept going back to the topic of vacation. Summer is finally upon us, so
vacation is a topic on a lot of different minds, right? When can we go? Where
will we go? How long can we stay? How much will it cost? What do I have to do
to prepare? For a lot of us, vacation isnāt about rest, itās about doingāpreparing to go, preparing to
travel, preparing for each day while weāre there, preparing to get it all home,
and then preparing to get back to normal life.
I canāt tell you how many
times Iāve heard someone say that they need a vacation from their vacation!
Personally, David and I have
made it a point to make our vacations restful. We donāt do much planning, and
the most exciting thing on our agendas is usually to visit a museum or go out
to dinner. Otherwise, weāre relaxing. Resting. Rejuvenating our minds and
spirits.
This is a necessary process. Studied have shown that having a break from work actually makes a worker more productive. And God himself recognized this. In the Law of Moses, weāve seen how
the Lord gave very specific instructions on rest. We have the Sabbath laws. The
Sabbath year laws. The Feasts and festivals. All of these are meant to be times
when man takes a break from the grind of daily life.
But theyāre something else
too, arenāt they? Theyāre also meant to be times when we take a break from
normal lifeā¦to worship and praise Him.
Letās look at Matthew
11, specifically at the well known verses 28-30:
28 Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am
gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For My yoke is easy and My
burden is light.ā
Jesus isnāt just talking here
about a physical rest, right? Heās talking about rest for our souls.
I want to share another
translation, this time from the Message.
āAre you tired? Worn out?
Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and youāll recover your
life. Iāll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with
meāwatch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I wonāt lay anything
heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and youāll learn to live
freely and lightly.ā
A friend of mine claims this
as her favorite verse, so Iāve read it quite a few times. I like how in
addition to the words ātiredā and āworn outā he also speaks to that spiritual
exhaustionāāburned out on religion.ā Not on faith, but on religion. On the traditions, the processes, the expectations, the
demands. Those can be so exhausting. They, like our jobs, are doing. And sometimes we need a rest from
that in the worst way.
I also love the insight into
how weāre going to find that, which is kinda an extrapolation of āCome to Meā
and ātake my yoke upon you and learn from me.ā
āGet away with me. Walk with
me. Work with me. Watch how I do it.ā
Waitāmaybe this is a bad
example after all. What does he say here? Work
with me.
Well that doesnāt fit the
idea of vacation at all!
But thatās just the Message.
If we go back to the New King James, we donāt see that in there, right? It just
says ātake my yoke upon you.ā Wellā¦that doesnāt use the word work, to be sure. But whatās a yoke?
Itās something we put on animalsā¦so they can work.
Hm.
And it goes on with ālearn
from Me.ā Okay, so letās learn from Jesus. We see him doing plenty of things.
Certainly, among them are traveling to observe the holy daysāholidays. But even
then, what is he doing? Healing the sick. Cleansing the lepers. Casting out
demons. Preaching. Teaching.
Workingābut not toiling at a
9-5. Heās doing the Fatherās work.
So thenā¦is doing the
Fatherās workā¦rest?
Thatās quite a thought,
isnāt it?
Though to be sure, even Jesus had to get away from the crowds. Away from
that hands-on work. In those times, we see Him slipping away to pray. To
commune with the Father.
As matters of faith often do, this idea of going to Him for our rejuvenation reminds me of my kids.
When my kids are bored, do
you know what they do? They come to me. When theyāre hungryā¦they come to me.
When theyāve accomplished something theyāre proud ofā¦they come to me. When
theyāre hurtā¦they come to me. When theyāre upsetā¦they come to me. When they’re excited…they come to me. When theyāre
worriedā¦they come to me. When theyāre tiredā¦they come to me.
They curl up in my lap. And
even though I canāt often do
anything, it doesnāt matter. All they want is to know that Mamaās there. They
want to curl up in my lap and be my baby. They want to be surrounded by my
love. And after a few minutes, theyāre refreshed. Theyāre ready to put aside the
exhaustion or the scrape or bruise, the argument or the anger. Theyāre ready to
go back to their game or their project or their work.
For anyone who has read my Culper Series, you’ll be familiar with the Puritan prayers I included, taken from Valley of Vision. This is one I used in the second book, which came to mind when I was thinking about this:
āBlessed Lord, let me climb
up near to Thee, and love, and long, and plead, and wrestle with Thee, and pant
for deliverance from the body of sin, for my heart is wandering and lifeless,
and my soul mourns to think it should ever lose sight of its beloved. Wrap my
life in divine love, and keep me ever desiring Thee, always humble and resigned
to Thy will, more fixed on Thyself, that I may be more fitted for doing and
suffering.ā
Rest. Thatās what Jesus
offers. But we donāt get it by going away. We donāt get it by stopping what
weāre doing. We donāt get it by focusing on us.
We get it by focusing on Him.
By crawling up into our Fatherās lap. By letting the Spirit act through us.
We don’t get it by stopping out work. We get it by doing His work.
And when take our vacation in the lap of our Abba Father, then a few minutes or hours is all it takes. We come back refreshed, ready to do His work–and certainly not in need of another vacation to recover from it.
This is mostly going to be an “I’m so grateful” post. =) Because sometimes, we just need to take the time for those.
I saw a blog post last week that got me to thinking. It’s about how artistic pursuits aren’t silly, and begins with this young mom talking with another young mom at a playground. Stranger-mom says of her husband: “He wrote for years before we got married,” she confessed, “but now we have kids and I told him to put that silliness away.”
I don’t know this blogger, much less the couple in question. But my writer-self ached for that husband at those words. (Same for the blogger–a post worth reading.)
I’ve always been a writer. And I’ve been so incredibly blessed to always have people around me who supported that. My parents never once told me to stop my silliness and come do something more constructive. They never once told me to keep my feet on the ground and my head out of the clouds. They never once said, “Maybe you should consider doing something else with your life.”
From the surprise party my family threw in 2011,
when I’d signed a contract for the Culper Ring Series
They told me I could be anything. Do anything. They smiled when I said I was working on another story. They read them and praised them. They bragged about my accomplishments. And I know even today that my mom always has some of my bookmarks in her purse, ready to talk me up and tell everyone about her daughter, the novelist.
Thanks, Mom and Dad, for your endless support. Would I have had the strength to stick out this crazy-long process without you always telling me I could do anything? I’m not sure.
Then I fell in love young. David knew from the get-go that I was a writer, and that if he intended to have a life with me, he better accept that–more, I warned him early on that whoever I married would have to have a “real job” to support the family, so that I could write. I knew well it might take a while for that writing to bring in any money, but I also offered the happy thought that maybe it would take off and be our retirement plan. š
David always supported my dreams. More, he rewrote his own to support mine better. He has started a publishing company for me. He has kept going in a job that he doesn’t exactly love so I didn’t have to go out and find other work. He reads everything I write, and he brainstorms with me when I’m stuck.
I know there are writers out there whose spouses don’t support their crazy-writing-habit. Who think it’s silly, or not worthwhile, or whatever. I’m so grateful to David for not being one of those. For being, instead, the kind of husband who says, “What can I do to help you get more writing done? I can take Xoe to ballet this week. I can pick up dinner. Just let me know.”
I’ve been so blessed…and I know there are so many people out there who aren’t supported like I am. And that makes me wonder how they manage to do the things they do.
How do you homeschool if your husband isn’t totally on board, supporting and helping out?
How do you chase your dreams if you’re surrounded by people who tell you that you can’t, or you shouldn’t?
How do you hold onto a good attitude if you’re fighting every day just to be you?
To my younger readers who are just starting out in life, I would say this: make it clear, always, who you are and what you need in your life. Know those things that you require to be the person you want to be–whether it’s an artistic pursuit, faith, sports, or whatever–and don’t compromise. Don’t ever think you can give up being you to get something else–the husband, the good job, whatever. Follow your calling, your dreams. And let those around you know that you need their support in that.
To my readers who are parents, I would say this: don’t clip your kids’ wings. Even if that thing they love makes no sense to you, have faith that God fashioned them just so, and your job, while certainly involving speaking reason and logic, is also to tell them that dreams are worth chasing–and worth working for. Help them know how to work for it.
To my readers whose parents are trying to stretch their wings once their kids are out of the house, I say this: encourage them to follow God’s calling, no matter where that takes them, and rejoice in their freedom to do so. They sacrificed so much to raise you–cheer them on now, and be willing to sacrifice for them. Be proud of them, as they have been of you.
To my readers who have spouses with big dreams, I say this: be willing to step out in faith. To let them step out in faith. Big things are only ever accomplished with risk. Dreams are only ever achieved when someone dares to let go of what seems safe and steady. Respect that their desires aren’t silly–not if it’s part of God’s calling on their life.
Don’t make the people in your life have to struggle to feel like themselves in a world that wants to mold them into a box. Encourage them to break that mold. To spread their wings. To take risks. To sacrifice. Don’t ever, ever be the cause of someone else giving up on something they love just because you deem it “silly.” Be, instead, the person they thank in that acceptance speech. The person they never could have succeeded without.
And be grateful when they do the same for you. Because we all have those dreams. And none of us can reach them on our own.
It’s going to be interesting to see if I can pull together the seemingly-unrelated thoughts flying through my head today. š Stick around for the ride and see what happens, LOL.
I’ll start with a confession: I hate award season. Not Hollywood award season (which I kinda like seeing all the gowns from…), but book award season. It starts now and goes into the fall, and every other week it seems like finalists and winners to some award or another are being announced. And I’m a meanie head. Because I get so tired of seeing those lists, and not for a pretty reason. It’s jealousy, pure and simple. Have I ever mentioned that I’m a competitive person? I’m SUCH a competitive person! And I know this about myself. I try to guard myself against it. For that reason, I don’t even enter awards.
And yet even so, when those lists come out, in come those thought: I want to win something too! Why do I never win anything? Are those books better than mine?
Seriously, this isn’t a pretty confession. See? Yucky, and I hate having those thoughts. I certainly try not to entertain them, to let them linger. Because I don’t want to be that person. I don’t want to walk in bitterness. I don’t want to fall into the Pit of Perpetual Comparison–it ain’t a nice place to be. But it’s one I tend toward.
It’s one a lot of us tend toward, I think. If not in accomplishments, then in looks. In possessions. In whose kids are smarter/more advanced/more polite/taller/you name it. In whose house is cutest/biggest/neatest. In whose car is newest. In who volunteers more. Who makes the healthiest meals. Who… You get the picture.
There was a time I when I thought my competitiveness was a good thing, so I didn’t bother to check it–hey, it made me valedictorian, right? There was a time when I realized it was a bad thing but didn’t know how to check it–after all, I can’t help it, right?
Now I know better. Now I know that like all other emotions, I may not be able to help that first feeling, but I can help what I do with it. I can help what I linger on. I can help where I dwell. Now I realize that anything that makes me bitter or depressed is something to get away from, fast…and something to rebuke.
How often do we really do that though? Which leads me (hey hey!) into authority.
Most of us are pretty content to have authority in some parts of our lives. We certainly want our kids to obey us. We want those people we supervise at work to follow our lead or listen to our instructions. We love being able to make sound decisions and follow them through.
So…why are so many of us so afraid to claim the authority in those matters we can’t see? Why would we rather wallow in it when we’re upset or down or in pain or angry, rather than stop, turn our hearts to God, and banish those thoughts by the power of Jesus, granted to us through the Holy Spirit?
Do we feel silly? Uncertain? I’m not sure of the answer to that. But I know that I always hesitate to let go of the negative. It’s easier to wallow, and it makes us feel…right. Like we deserve to linger in that feeling. It makes us the center of attention–our own, if no one else’s. It keeps our focus squarely on ourselves, and when no one else is paying attention…
But it’s a trap. Seriously. You don’t want that kind of attention, even from yourself. If you refuse to think it, refuse to feel sorry yourself, ask the Lord to take those thoughts away and even–gasp–banish them in the name of Jesus…it’s pretty amazing how quickly our hearts and minds forgive. Or heal. Or feel like maybe we can do that thing that had seemed impossible five short minutes before.
We have that authority, folks. When Jesus was instructing us in it, he didn’t say, “And if you say in regards to that mountain, ‘Lord, will you please move it out of my way? If it’s your will, I mean,’ it will be cast into the sea.”
What he say to do? To “say to that mountain, ‘Be removed,’ and it will be cast into the sea.”
We have that authority. Through Him, through the Holy Spirit, we can move mountains–and that goes for the mountains within us and within our family, in our everyday lives. We have that authority, through Him, to live victorious lives completely independently of anything we win, of any acclaim. We have the authority to find Joy in every circumstance.
I don’t know about you, but there are still times when I issue an order to my kiddos and am kinda surprised when they listen. I mean, why should they? Who am I? Sometimes I still feel like a kid myself, though I’ve been at this parenting gig for a shocking 9.5 years. But they do listen. Because I’m their mother. Because I have that authority over them–it’s a natural authority, and it’s one I’ve been careful to cultivate correctly over the years.
Though it doesn’t keep Rowyn from saying every…single…day “I don’t want to read! I don’t want to do my spelling! I don’t want to do my math right now!” he’s saying it as he puts his butt into his chair and gets his work out. As he’s getting out his pencil. He’s saying it knowing full well that I’m going to reply with, “You’re going to do it anyway.”
But if one day I said, “Yeah, okay. Whatever. Do what you want”? What do you think that kid’s going to do?
Go play. That’s what.
And that’s the same thing our emotions do. If we give them permission, they run rampant. If we school them, they get in line.
And now that I’ve successfully tied my 3 topics together, I’m going to wind this up. š See, we only have 2 days left in our school year (woo hoo!), and we’re all looking forward to a break from the structure. But we also all know that it does nothing to the authority. I may not be doing as much teaching over the next 3 months (still some, because that’s just part of our lives–they ask questions, and we find the answers), but I’m still Mommy. I still get to say, “Time to read. Time to clean up. Time for bed.”
Just like to those negative thoughts inside my own head, I get to say, “Time to go away. Time to focus on blessings. Time to praise the Lord.” And you know what? Jealousy and bitterness and depression have a might hard time coexisting with praise. They’re gonna flee. They might try to come back, but I can send them away again.
And keep on doing it until the good feelings catch up.
Passion: though its current definition involves “any strong feeling,” it has its roots in pain. Passion comes straight from the Latin passio, which means, quite simply, “suffering.”
So our English idea of being passionate about something…it means not just something we feel strongly about, but something we’re willing to suffer for.
Susan Meissner pointed this out in a great class at ACFW one year, along with the question of “Are we really willing to suffer for our writing? Are we passionate about it?” And went on to say that for many writers, herself included, the answer was no. She was willing to work really hard at it, but it was a career. She loved it, but it didn’t deserve the word passion.
Another writer, very well respected and often ground-breaking, just said something similar. That when it came down to it, there’s not much she’d give up for writing.
It made me realize anew that I’m not in that camp. Susan Meissner began that aforementioned class by breaking down writers into 3 groups–those who write as a hobby, those who write as a job, and those who write as a ministry. She was speaking to the middle group.
I belong to the ministry group. Neither is right or wrong, they’re just different. But I’ve recently heard a lot of voices talking very wisely and thoroughly about the Career group, and I wanted to take some time to examine the Ministry aspect.
I have said many times that I write for the same reason that I breathe: because I must. I have written before about “Being a Writer and Zombies” LOL and how even if the world as I knew it was obliterated and I was on the run for years at a time, I would write (albeit just in my head, telling stories around the campfire). If writing fiction became illegal, I would write. It isn’t a choice to me, it isn’t a job, it isn’t something I do–it’s who I am. It’s how I process. It’s how I think.
More, it’s how I fulfill the Great Commission.
I had the honor and pleasure of speaking at a MOPS group two weeks ago, which is something I’ve done before and always love. I’m about the same age as most of the women there, my kids are just recently out of that “pre-schoolers” age, and I can relate to them on a lot of different levels. I love talking to them about juggling their home life with other passions, which is what I was talking about this time too, and about my publishing story.
Afterwards, one of the ladies said something to me that I’ve heard before, LOL. “It’s so fun hearing you talk about this–you’re so passionate about it!” (When I’m speaking to older crowds, that often gets paired with “It’s so adorable how excited you are!”)
But that’s me. I get excited about writing, about books, about the stories I get to tell. I get excited about how God has worked in my life to bring me to this point, and the ways He has used my books in the lives of His children. I get excited about what’s to come.
And yes–I’m willing to suffer for it. Because the written word is my mission field. Telling stories is how I spread the Gospel and share God’s truths. Yes, I had to learn the career side–how to follow the rules of writing, how to appeal to readers and editors, how to get my books out into those readers’ hands (otherwise it’s not much of a mission field!), and I work hard at it. But if that were taken away from me, if I could no longer get books out there, I’d still write stories–and I’d still get them to as many people as I could.
There are so many reasons to write. So many ways to treat it. So many things it can be even to someone like me who considers it a ministry, a calling. Yes, I want it to entertain. Yes, I want to write the best I possibly can. Yes, I want to keep learning how to make my books successful. No, I certainly don’t want my stories to ever come across as an agenda.
But that’s the beauty, to me. If I pursue this thing I’m called to wholeheartedly, I know that God will give me those truths to write into my stories. I know I’ll continue to understand God’s love better and better by exploring relationship and family through writing. I know my stories will get better and better as stories, and that the better they get, the more they’ll be able to fulfill their purpose on a spiritual level too.
For those of us whose writing is a ministry, the question of “Why do we do it?” always comes back to “Because that’s how we serve Him.” And because that’s my reason, it makes me view things like low sales and setbacks in a whole different light. Obviously I want my books to be successful–as in, reach lots of people–but more, I want them to be used by Him. Ideally, the two will go hand in hand. But if not, if my sales are awful but I’m still getting notes from people telling me how my books opened their eyes or touched their hearts or made them redefine their faith…well then, I’m doing my job.
It’s not always easy. It doesn’t always seem worthwhile. It certainly isn’t always logical. It can’t always be quantified. But that’s true of most ministries, isn’t it? We serve, we give, we fight for the right to do so. We falter, we weep, we wonder if it will ever make a difference. Then we get up again and keep serving. Because it’s part of who we are.
It’s a little odd that writing is something you can do for so many different reasons–after all, not many people choose “missionary” as a career simply because they think they have a way with people and words and it seems like a good career choice. That’s one that most people will do only as a calling, a ministry. But writing can be a talent, a gift much like good math skills or engineering acumen. It can be a job that goes hand-in-hand with ministry. It can be so many different things.
But if you’re pursuing it, it’s a good idea to identify why you are. What it means to you. What you’re willing to give up for it, and what you’re not. For many fabulous writers, they’re not willing to give up much to pursue writing. For others, there’s not much they won’t give up to pursue writing. How awesome that God can use us all. =)
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, sheās homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her booksā¦to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. When not writing fiction, sheās homeschooling her two kids, editing, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her booksā¦to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.