by Roseanna White | Nov 21, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
On Sunday, I had the pleasure of attending my great-grandmother’s 100th birthday party. Most of the family was there, including some of her great-nieces and nephews that I’ve never even met. Everyone, it seemed, wanted to come and celebrate this amazing milestone.
I admit it–I didn’t want to leave home so early that day. I was in a writing groove, and Rowyn had been under the weather the day before, and I was afraid he’d crash back into exhausted at the party. I didn’t want to prepare a dish, I didn’t want to stop writing. But of course, I did. And oh, how glad I was.
Because as I sat in a metal folding chair beside my mother and sister, my kids right in front of me playing with the gourds used as decoration, I listened to the stories everyone told of this woman I’ve known all my life. And I realized I’m a part of a legacy.
Over and again people told the same stories. The stories of how she loved–and how she loved all, without distinction, without bias, without favoritism.
(Grandma says, “Well, you’re all just swell!”)
Stories of how Grandma’s old house was always an oasis of safety, a place everyone loved so much that we didn’t mind imitating sardines on Christmas Eve to get to spend time there.
(Grandma says, “It isn’t as big as I remember, is it?”)
Stories of how she always, always welcomed each addition to the family, whether through marriage or birth or adoption, with the exact same love and embrace as she had her own children, always remembered each one, always took care that they all received the same consideration.
(Grandma says, tearfully, “Thank you all so much for all your beautiful kids. Welcome to the family.”)
And my dad, tears in his eyes, reminded us all of the passage in one of Paul’s letters where he says, “Imitate me, as I imitate Christ.” To us, Dad said, “We can say ‘imitate Grandma, as she imitates Christ.’ She has always been a shining example of Jesus’s love for us.”
I don’t know what my legacy will be. I don’t know what people will remember me for. I don’t know how many would gather to celebrate a milestone with me. I certainly don’t know what milestones I’ll reach in this life.
But whatever age, whatever place in life, whatever people cross my path, I pray I can share in my grandmother’s legacy. I pray that they see even a morsel of her strength and goodness and kindness in me.
I pray, with tears in my eyes, that I can be like Grandma.
by Roseanna White | Nov 14, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
It’s always a blessing to get to know my readers, of both blog and books. If I remember correctly, Andrea and I began chatting over the summer. She was a frequent visitor during the big month of giveaways, and she’s been stopping by regularly ever since. She recently read Ring of Secrets and asked me if I would consider letting her do a guest post on some things she considered while reading. I’m always happy for an easy blogging day, LOL, so readily agreed. đ So now, without further ado, Andrea.
~*~
Previously published on My Book
Therapyâs
Weekly Spark, Andrea Renee
Cox (
http://writingtoinspire.blogspot.com)
cherishes God, family and writing with a song in heart and a story in mind.
This Texan girl enjoys road trip vacations with her family and trying different
dessert recipes, looking for âkeepers.â
Sometimes another authorâs book
sparks an idea for a novel of my own. Other times it hatches a plan for a blog
article. Still other times thereâs a line on the pages that can be applied to
other parts of my life besides just writing.
This novel of espionage in the
late 1700s captured my interest from the get-go. What really connected with me,
though, was Bennet Laneâs thoughts from chapter three: âExplore, discover,
document.â He used these three steps to root out a spy hidden among New York
Cityâs elite aristocratic class.
I use them in my writing.
The first step to writing a
novel is to explore. The setting, time
period, what people were like in the time chosen for my storyâall must be
uncovered in order for me to fully understand the time and place and characters
of my novel. Itâs a fun process that leads from one resource to another to yet
another. From books to the internet to music and movies, the places to search
and explore are practically endless.
Next comes discovery. This one always surprises me. You never know what neat,
off-the-wall tidbits of information youâll discover while youâre exploring.
Little treasure troves of trivia wait to be uncovered and put to good use.
These things take my stories to a deeper, more realistic level because the
tidbit was a kernel of truth placed artfully within my work of fiction. Every
fiction piece has some truth to it, and itâs little wonder when these realities
are found during discovery.
Finally, we document everything. This starts with making notes from our
resources. It moves into an outline and other brainstorming techniques.
Eventually, our documentation flows out into the full-length novel we hope will
be published to reach readersâ hands. Thatâs the day all aspiring authors dream
about. Once it happens, the readers sometimes document their thoughts and send
them to us via Facebook, Twitter and email.
Maybe writers arenât the only
ones to use Bennet Laneâs âexplore, discover, documentâ method!
What line from your favorite
book can be applied to another part of your life beyond reading? How do you use
the âexplore, discover, documentâ method?
by Roseanna White | Oct 31, 2013 | Remember When Wednesdays, Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
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| An approaching storm front we captured in the Outer Banks this summer |
When you get bad news…or sad news…what do you do? It’s inevitable that we run into these times–they’re part of life, much as we wish they weren’t.
We’re going to have those days when we cry.
We’re going to have those days when we yell.
We’re going to have those days when we feel like the best course is to hide from the world.
Ever since I was a middle-schooler, I’ve pondered my own reactions to these times. I remember when we got the news that my grandfather had cancer. My parents cried. My sister cried. There was much hugging. There was much talk.
I closed myself into my room with a pencil and a notebook, and I wrote poem called, “Why Do I Smile?” I happen to have it on my computer, surprisingly, LOL, so I’ll copy it:
The days melt together in a turmoil of ache.
Their only distinction is a separate pain.
I feel that my futureâs not mine to make.
So why do my dreams suspendâunslain?
Each person has their own losses;
Each deals with them in their own way.
Most cry as they carry their crosses.
Why do I smile and laugh it away?
My world has diminished to shatters,
But my eyes are as dry as the breeze.
As hope lies around me in tatters,
I sing as I fall to my knees.
Why canât I mourn as my mother,
Or weep it away as my friend?
Why must I resort to anotherâ
Stronger?âmore miserable end?
I canât see into tomorrow
So I donât know that Iâll make it that mile.
Even I canât see past my own sorrow.
So tell me, why do I smile?
Thirteen-year-old me didn’t really have the answer. Thirty-one-year-old me doesn’t either, but it hasn’t changed. I still, upon getting upsetting news, am more likely to smile and assure everyone I’m okay than cry and let them assure me it will be okay. And it’s not a facade–that’s my genuine, gut reaction. The eternal optimist. The faith, perhaps, holding me up.
But it always hits a month or two later. Every single time I’ve gotten a rejection on a project I thought was sold, for instance (which has happened way too many times, LOL), I’ve experienced this. I can smile and assure my critique partners it’s no big thing. I know that God’s got something better for me. That it was no surprise to Him. I know it, and so I can smile.
Until I can’t anymore. When it hits, it hits like a waterfall, tumbling over me without relent. Those are the days when I mourn for what was lost, or for what I know will be lost soon. I grieve for what cannot be. I look at the projects or dreams or loved ones snatched from me, and I ache. I whimper. I want to cry, but by then I can’t seem to find any tears. (This is why Roseanna cries maybe twice a year. Usually over something stupid like forgetting to pay a bill, LOL.)
It’s so hard not to be discouraged in those times. And in the throes of discouragement, what you know doesn’t often help, because you’re too overwhelmed by what you feel. If only the two could line up!
As you might guess, I’m having a delayed reaction this week, LOL. Nothing as terrible as the impending loss of my grandfather, just a bunch of disappointments adding up, and the old ones that I thought settled coming to add their voices to the mix. One of those days, one of those weeks.
And so I ponder. Again. I wonder why I deal with things the way I do. Is it the right way? The wrong way? The strong way, the weak way? I don’t know. But it’s my way. It’s my way to smile until it hits, to smile again as soon as I can. It’s my way to mourn quietly.
This time, I’m sharing the feeling if not all the reasons, not in a bid for sympathy, but in a laying-bare, to see if it helps in the healing. In a question of how you manage these days, these weeks, so I can listen for the whisper of the great Healer in the voices of my friends.
So please, share. What do you do when the tempest strikes?
by Roseanna White | Oct 24, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
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| Psalm 136 |
My daily reading has me in the Psalms right now, and I have always loved this book of ancient songs. I know, I know–I’m not exactly unique in that, LOL.
But do you know what I love most about them? That the songs speak to everything we experience. Joy, heartache, love, disappointment, hope, longing, fear, appreciation, pain, expectation, shame, victory…you name it. If there’s an emotion out there, one of the psalmists has written about it. It’s almost impossible not to find a psalm that expresses one’s heart at a given moment. A psalm that cries out your heart to the Lord.
That itself isn’t what I love though. It’s that through every one of those emotions, underscoring it and crowning it, is praise.
Through the Joy, the authors give all the praise to Him.
Through the pain, the authors wait with praise for Him.
I’ve read through the Psalms several times, and I’ve only ever found one song that only laments and doesn’t tack on praise. One–out of 150!
Some days it’s really easy to praise. Like yesterday, when my precious little girl turned 8, and we got to celebrate the day she joined our lives and made them oh-so-much fuller.
I can’t imagine, now, what life would be like without my XoĂŤ. She’s a ray of sunshine, sensitive and sweet and smart and sassy, and I thank the Lord daily (literally) for her and her brother.
But we all know praise isn’t always easy. Some days, the world comes crashing in. Some days, all hope seems lighter than vapor. Some days, we just want to rant, rail, and cry out. To God, to man, to the universe–to whoever will listen…or because it seems no one will.
Sometimes we know how David felt, being hunted and sheltering in caves. Sometimes we feel like our son, our pride and Joy, has turned on us. Sometimes we feel haunted by our sin. Sometimes we feel forgotten.
But my eyes are upon You, O God the Lord;
In You I take refuge;
Do not leave my soul destitute.
I can’t pray trouble will never befall us–it will. We’re going to face disappointments. Persecution. Betrayal. Sickness. Pain. We’re going to lose loved ones. We’re going to stare darkness in the face and not be quite sure where–if–the light lies beyond it.
But I can pray that we have the hearts of the psalmists through it all. That no matter the trial, we keep our eyes on the One who can bring us through it. That no matter the tribulation, we remember that He is our refuge. And that no matter how low, how bad, how tear-drenched our day might be, He will never, never leave our soul destitute.
Today, I praise You, Lord, for all the joys bubbling up in my life. And today, Lord, I praise You for seeing me through the valleys too.
by Roseanna White | Oct 17, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Confession: this is a repost. But only because I looked down at my clock, saw it was 8:00 a.m., and realized with a start that it’s THURSDAY. Yikes! Need a blog post, stat!!! LOL. So forgive me. And enjoy. đ
~*~
We love to torture our kids. And by
torture I mean tickle them, “eat” them up, chase them around, pretend
our hand is a monster . . . you know. Torture. The sweet kind. I
imagine that’s a fairly universal love of parents the world over, and
it’s no great secret why. We do it because we love to hear that belly
laugh, hear those delighted shrieks of “No, no! Hey, why’d you stop? Do
it again, do it again!” We love to see those huge smiles on their faces.
We love their abandon.
My
hubby will tickle me, too, but we often get a good laugh out of how he
does the same “gobble” to me he does with the kids, and I just look at
him. And usually say, “Um . . . sorry. I’m not as much fun as the kids,
am I?” Which yeah, makes us chuckle. But it’s not a belly laugh. Those
same simple things don’t result in such instant
Joy once we grow up.
Man . . . I sure wish they did!
The
abandon of a small child has its ups and downs. It results in those
moments of unbridled bliss, and it results in equally unbridled fits.
Laughter and tears in equal measures,
Joy and frustration, love and
rage. I’m sometimes amazed at how my kids can go from total contentment
in their game with each other to hitting each other and screaming at the
top of their lungs, then straight back to fun.
It’s something we learn to control as we grow up, something we teach
those kids to do. Self control is important, especially when it comes
to those negatives. And those who never learn it . . . end up with
reality shows on TV??? đ Seriously, that control is a must, yes.
But
what are some of your best moments from adulthood? Are they when you’re
sitting there, perfectly controlled? Are they when you don’t react to
something? No–our favorite moments are the ones where we regain a
moment of childhood abandon and embrace the
Joy of life. When we scream
our heads off on a roller coaster. When we laugh until we cry. When we
let it all go and just
live.
Sometimes
it’s hard to do that, especially in this stage of my life where I have
to keep the Mommy turned on. Oh, I can laugh with my kids. But I’m also
trying to make sure knees don’t collide with heads as we wrestle, that
things tossed up in
Joy come down in one piece. I’m trying to protect
and nurture and so can’t give my full attention to the game. I
have to do this. I
love to do this.
But sometimes I just wish I could let loose a belly laugh and not care.
And that goes for my prayer life too. That should be the one place I can
let go completely, but even there I’m usually trying to
protect–myself. I find myself praying, “Lord, you know I hope . . . you
know I fear . . . I’m trying not to hope too much because then I fear
I’ll be disappointed . . . I’m trying not to expect disappointment
though because that would be faithless . . . I don’t want to assume your
will . . . I don’t want to miss your will . . .”
But
there I need to let go of the control. With the Lord, I need to be
unafraid of the extremes. I need to show him the highs and the lows. I
need to be unafraid of letting that kid inside me out before my Father.
I need to embrace the abandon.
by Roseanna White | Oct 10, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
You know, life these days is pretty crazy. We’re all running, running, running, trying to keep up with this and that and the other thing, with kids’ activities and our own, with our complicated lives, jobs, church commitments, you name it.
Rarely do I have a season lately that I don’t deem “crazy.” But October is always the worst for me. And this year, for some reason I thought it would be fun to schedule a ton of fall releases for WhiteFire, LOL, so I have a bunch of editing on top of it (I’ve been prepping five different books). I’ve got Octoberfest (last weekend), family reunion (this weekend), my daughter’s birthday, an extra night of ballet starts next week for Nutcracker rehearsal–and this year, her physical therapy twice a week on top of it, not to mention that whole moving thing that still isn’t finished.
Yeah. Wee bit crazy around here. I’ve been getting up at 5:30 every day, scheduling every minute of my day, and falling into bed exhausted every night. And I still don’t feel exactly on top of things. But the schedule helps. A block of time for writing. Then blogging. A block for exercising, showering, eating, and reading my Bible. School. Running out and about. More school. Editing. Picking up the house, cooking, evening activities. Somewhere in there I’m trying to squeeze in a research book. And laundry, LOL.
I know, though, that I’m not the only one with one of those crazy-beyond-comprehension months–October just happens to be mine.
What time of year are you busiest? Christmas? Summer? Some random month like mine? What are your tricks for keeping your head above water?
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, sheâs 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 booksâŚto offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.