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. 😉
~*~
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??? 😉 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?
by Roseanna White | Oct 3, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
I never considered myself a scientist. Growing up, I wasn’t the type to take toys apart to see their inner workings or do my own experiments. When I went to St. John’s College (The Great Books School), I didn’t quite get it when they said that the most important thing students had to learn was how to ask good questions.
After four years of hearing them, though, I get it. And I agree–it’s the most valuable tool my education gave me. The ability not just to question, but to question rightly. To question in a way that will lead me to answers, not circles.
And so now, as I look at the world around me, I ask “Why?” I ask “How?” I ask, “But what if it were this way? What would change?” And as events unfold, I try to find the reasons, the patterns, the keys. My questioning is always rooted in faith that God’s got it all under control, so my view is no doubt different from an atheist’s. My questioning is part of who I am. Part of what I do. Part of what makes me me.
I’ve asked a lot of “why”s lately. When we were presented with an unexpected answer to a vehicular need several months ago, I didn’t just accept it with a smile and go about my merry way. I began to pray. Because I knew, I knew quite certainly, that this wasn’t just God tossing me a boon. This was God preparing us for a change. This was God saying, “I’m removing some burdens,” not because they were too heavy then…but because they would have become so. There was a why to that gift, and to the gift of the house we just moved into.
Thank you, Lord, for helping me see that, so I didn’t squander it.
Earlier this week, my best friend texted me from the ER–her 3-year-old son had just had a seizure. The easy answer–that it was triggered by a high fever–was not the answer. He hadn’t been sick. And so they had to look for the why. Tumor? No, praise the Lord. Bleeding? No, which is another praise. But that leaves them with unanswered questions. What triggered it? Will it happen again?
No answers. And so we pray, and praise Him that little Connor is acting himself, with no lasting effects.
And then there are the career questions. Why do some things hit and others flop? Why do some of the most talented writers stay mid-list? Where do I fit in this publishing world? Will an award ever come my way? A spot on the best-seller list?
I don’t know, and I’m not a big fan of not-knowing here either, any more than I am when it comes to medical questions. I like answers. Preferably neat and tidy ones that are also solutions.
But learning to question rightly has also taught me that very rarely are the answers simple. For that matter, very rarely are they actual answers. Questions, true questions, don’t lead you to Yes or No. They lead you to more questions. They lead you on a journey.
Through faith, I can say that I don’t know what the path will look like, but I know where it ends. I know the goal. I know the One guiding me. I know my feet are traveling the road they need to travel.
I know there will be endless questions along the way. I’m never going to know all the Whys. And today, as I look out over the future and wonder what it might hold–for me, for my family, for my friends and their families–I see one of the greatest truths. That life and faith aren’t about knowing. They’re about seeking, and about bravely marching on despite the uncertainty.
The test of life isn’t about the answers. It’s about how we react to the questions.
by Roseanna White | Sep 12, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
I was a kid. I don’t even remember how old, probably about ten. My parents were in charge of the youth at our church, which meant I spent a lot of time there. My favorite thing to do? Slip into the quiet sanctuary and just be there. With no milling congregation, no dozens of conversations, no laughter, no music, no mothers calling for the little ones to come to their pew.
Just me. And that certain feeling that this was holy ground.
I grew up in church, I said my prayer for salvation along with the other kids in a children’s church service was I was, oh, five or six. And I meant it. Sure, it took me a lot of years to figure out what it was I had meant, ha ha, but there was never doubt. There was never turning away. There was never backsliding.
There were, instead, these quiet little moments when I brushed up against the divine and realized how much He loved me, in all the wackiest little things.
On this day, I’d meandered to the front of the sanctuary, where the much-disputed red velvet curtain hung on the back wall, a subject of heated debate among the board. My parents were also on the board, so I was aware of this debate. I found it so trivial that I just laughed over it. Take the curtain down, leave it up, what did it matter? Adults, I thought, got hung up on the weirdest things.
Me, I thought about more important things, ahem. Like the next story I would write, whether my mom would let me have Brittney over that weekend, and if my teacher would rearrange our desks soon because I was so tired of sitting beside those stupid boys who thought it was funny to mock everything everyone said. I made it a point never to laugh at them. Eventually they noticed and asked why. My answer? “Because you’re not funny.” Oh yes, brutal honesty from the tweener Roseanna, LOL.
The church was washed with the golden light of a summer evening. Kinda stuffy, as the air was turned off, but not too bad. It was only Sunday night, after all, it hadn’t had a chance to get really hot yet. I meandered to the front of the sanctuary, past the alter railings. Maybe I’d intended to go to the piano, who knew—I was known to trill out Für Elise any time I could.
But a buzzing of a fly disturbed my quiet. Have you ever noticed how loud one little fly sounds in a room with no other noise? So annoying. So there. And my first instinct, when it comes to a fly, is to swat at it.
That afternoon, though, I had a thought of, “No, I’m not going to kill a fly in church.” (Let it be noted I’ve never felt that particular conviction since, LOL.) Instead, I watched it buzz around the vaulted ceilings and land, eventually, on the alter table.
I remember creeping closer, wondering how close I could get before it saw my movement and took off. One step nearer, two. At some point, I recall a strange series of thoughts running through my head. Something that mixed wonder with prayer. Something that made me stretch out in faith. Something that wasn’t exactly Peter walking on water, but which was stepping out nonetheless. I determined that God would hold the fly still, and I could touch it. Pet it. Stroke its wing.
And so I walked up to the table. I reached out. And I stroked its wing.
It’s a small thing. A simple thing. A silly thing. And yet as greater struggles of faith arise in my life, I sometimes think back on that fly. On a child who acted on faith, and who proved that her God heard the smallest, silliest thoughts in her head. And who didn’t mind touching His finger to a pesky little fly so that she could touch hers to it too.
Life is full of flies as well as hurricanes. Bumps as well as canyons. And oh, how nice it is to know that the God who cares about the one also cares about the other. That no matter my words, He listens.
Thank you, Lord.
by Roseanna White | Aug 29, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
A while back on another blog, I read a post about how, if we’re honest, we all have the reader-we-wish-we-were and the reader-we-really-are. Like, we might want to think we’re going to read some scholarly, high-falutin’ piece of literature for pure fun one summer…but when it comes down to it, we opt for the romance novel with the pretty gown on the front instead. I really appreciated the thoughts the blogger put forth, because I have totally done that.
It’s a thought that stuck with me, and which translates to a lot more than my reading pile. Because it’s tough sometimes. We should own who we are…yet be improving. We should be happy in our skin…but want to be healthier, in better shape. We should take pride in our work…but not be too proud to take advice.
The more I think on these things, the more I think that finding a balance for each of those circumstances is what helps me discover who I really am. Years ago, I posted about how, when I spend time with some of my best friends, I sometimes come away thinking, “Why am I not like them?” I don’t make food from scratch much anymore. I don’t sew my own clothes. I don’t debate the morality of one brand over another. Should I? Well, hearing their philosophies, I often think I should. But if I give my attention to that…
And one of those friends replied to that blog saying how she leaves those same visits wishing she could develop stories that others want to read, wishing she could be confident in her clothing choices without getting hung up on the why of things, wishing she could be the kind of person to express those very doubts with eloquence.
We all have those I wish I were… moments. We all look at the way our friends parent, dress, exercise, cook, write, read, worship, or [fill in the blank] and think, “I need to be more like them.” But how often are they looking right back at us and thinking the same?
Sometimes this makes me laugh. Sometimes it makes me shake my head. And always it makes me pause and think. Because I can’t be Kimberly or Karlene or Stephanie or Jennifer or Paige or Erin. I can’t be Francine Rivers or Ted Dekker or Laurie Alice Eakes or MaryLu Tyndall or Julie Lessman. I can’t be the college professors who sat around thinking about Aristotle for fun.
There are things I wish I could improve about myself, especially when I reflect on these people I so love. I wish I were more proactive about my homeschooling choices. I wish I were more educated on the medical choices available to us. I wish I knew (and cared) what was in my food. I wish I studied the changing tides of the industry to which I belong. I wish I kept my house clean. I wish I always answered my kids with patience. I wish I could organize my time.
And it’s so incredibly weird to me to be talking to a friend and here her say, “I just keep telling myself, ‘You need to be more like Roseanna. Keep your cool.’ You’re the most laid-back person I know, and I need that.”
I wha…?
LOL.
What I take from that is that we need to learn from each other, yes. We need to grow. We need to stretch ourselves out toward knowledge, as Aristotle would say, and come to a better understanding of our worlds.
But we also need to recognize that we can only do what we can do. We can only be who we can be. We only have so much attention, so many hours, so many days. How do we really want to spend them?
For me, it comes down to this. If I have to decide between working out and writing, I’m going to choose writing. But if I can combine working out with brainstorming…well, that’s awesome! So rather than doing videos that demand my full attention, I’ve been walking. It gives me much-needed time to think in peace, and that makes my writing time for fruitful.
If I have to decide between keeping my house clean and spending extra time on fun lessons with my kids, I’m going to choose my kids. Because sometimes it seems like if I spend my whole day teaching the must-dos, then the following hours cleaning up, I never get to hug them. Never get to cuddle. Never get to put puzzles together and build Lego tractors. So I prioritize. The kitchen must be cleaned, the toys have to be put away. But I’m not going to fret over every stray piece of paper.
The list goes on. Will I ever reach a place where I’m not frustrated day-to-day with some little thing? Where I don’t look at the awesome people God has put around me and aspire to be like them in some way? I seriously doubt it. Because I’m aware of my own faults, and it’s good that I want to improve them.
But I’m also aware of who I am and what’s important to me. And I have to be careful that I don’t get so hung up in bettering one aspect of myself that I neglect another. I have to be, above all, who I am.
by Roseanna White | Aug 22, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
It’s been quite a month. A lot has happened. Some things are up in the air that I thought were solid, other things are solid that had been up in the air. Our home school year has started, and I have two kids in my little classroom this year instead of just one.
I’m in the blissful throes of the beginning of a novel I’ve been pondering for 7 years, and in the midst of quite a few editing projects.
My thoughts are a bit jumbled, LOL. So I thought today I’d do one of the list thingymabobs that I’ve always enjoyed reading on other blogs. Just some thoughts, epiphanies, observations, and blessings I’m thinking about today.
1. My kids are well behaved. It doesn’t always feel like it when I’m with them 24/7, but I seriously can’t take these little guys out in public without someone commenting on how polite and good they are. And I think, Wow. I guess I’m doing something right!
2. Orson Scott Card is brilliant. I just finished the second book in his Gate series, and some of the tidbits that only got a couple lines were just astoundingly clever. On The Big Bang Theory, Leonard says something in an early episode about how all physicists can ever say is “Look, my theory is internally consistent, yay!” Card had some internal consistencies that make you stop and go, “Huh. That makes so much sense I kinda wonder if it’s true even though it can’t be.”
3. I love biblical fiction. Not a newsflash, I know. But digging into one for the first time in 3 years is just so darn fun.
4. There’s beauty in the boring parts. I just finished reading Leviticus. There are some places that are so redundant. Where every single tribe brought the exact same things for the tabernacle, but he names each single bowl and plate Every. Single. Time. At first, I sighed and thought Couldn’t you just say they ALL brought this, Moses? Once? But then I stopped and really looked at it. And I realized how beautiful it is to state it 12 times. Because each bowl, each plate, each ounce of gold and silver was a sacrifice. And every one deserved attention. Remembering each is so very important.
5. I love design. I’ve come to the conclusion that playing in Photoshop at least once every two weeks is crucial to my creativity in general.
6. Celery Soup is okay. How’s that for a bizarre thought? But I accidentally bought Cream of Celery instead of Cream of Chicken, and had only that for my chicken and dumplings. And you know, it added something!
7. Friends = Joy. I have some of the most amazing online friends imaginable. I love emailing and messaging y’all every day. And I’m also so, so grateful to have connected with some local families through homeschooling and Bible studies. Hanging out with other young-ish moms and talking about everything from kids to books to clothes to jobs is something I really missed for a few years.
8. Disappointments only last for a blink. I’ve had a doozy, and for about 12 hours there, all I could pray was, Whatever You want for me, Lord. I give it to You. It’ll be enough. But it wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t even the end of a dream. It might have been the end of one particular idea, at least for now, but that’s okay. I have a lot of ideas. I have people who believe in me. People willing to fight for me. And faith that my feet are on the path He set before me. Doesn’t mean there won’t be potholes. Just means I’m heading where I need to go despite them.
9. Ellie Sweet is awesome. I just got to read my critique partner’s next book, due out in November. I loved the first one in the series so intensely I couldn’t imagine this one displacing it, especially knowing some of the twists she was throwing in against my objections. But she made me love it. Ellie rocks more than ever. (And Stephanie too.) 😉
10. Sometimes you can compromise. Sometimes you can’t. I want to be the kind of person people love to talk to, hang out with, work with. I want to be easy and encouraging and not get my knickers in a bunch. Mostly, I can do that. I can brush away irritation or frustration or whatever. But sometimes, I have to stand where I’m put and not budge. Just sometimes. But those are important times.
11. I’m so in love with my husband. He’s been working his rear off so we can move here in the next week or so. Just one of the many things that makes me stop and wonder at this crazy love still filling me for him after 15+ years as a couple.
12. Pedicures are da bomb. Seriously. Da bomb. My hubby scheduled me one for my birthday last week. See #11.
13. Absolutely nothing beats encouragement. Nothing. Ever. Notes I’ve gotten from you guys have picked me up on days I’m down, made me laugh when I’m already smiling, and just encouraged me to keep on, no matter what. So thank you. I hope you realize that every kind word you speak or write inspires the recipient to return the favor, either to you or someone else. It’s a beautiful cycle, one that lights the world. So Shine on, me lovelies. Shine on.
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, she’s 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 books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.