Sometimes I think the world inside my head is a very strange place. Full of double-think and a pendulum of balance I knowingly employ to keep myself cheerful. A fair amount of rationalization when it comes to exercise and indulging in chocolate, and a strange collection of hope and fear.

All that comes into play at this point in the game with a book releasing. I so love Ring of Secrets, I so believe in its message. Of all the books I’ve written, this is the only one that I not only loved but about which I felt a perfect confidence. I knew this book would find a home. I didn’t know for sure where, but I thought Harvest would take it. So when they did, in additional to the excitement, there was this great, peaceful, “Yes.” Yes, this is right. This is where it’s supposed to be, and it’s going to do what it’s supposed to do.

But with the book a month away from release, the thoughts are bashing about in my brain. I have such hopes for it…but what if it flops? Harvest House has put so much faith and effort into me…but what if I disappoint them? I so adore this book…but what if others don’t?

I’ll admit it–I crave the validation of praise. I try not to, and I don’t define myself by it. I will always write, as long as I’m able and God permits, and if all the world tells me I stink, then I’ll write anyway. Maybe I’ll change the what or the how, but I am a writer. But those words of encouragement from readers? Those keep me going. And occasionally words of harsh criticism have been known to derail me for a day or two.

So I’ve been biting my nails lately. And the reviews have started coming in from advance readers. Mostly good. Nothing proclaiming it the best book ever or anything. And then yesterday, my first bad review of it. Three stars. Sigh.

I was pretty proud of myself for shrugging it off, but it niggled here and there through the night. But not because of the review itself…more because a good review from this same source on Annapolis I had grasped hold of firmly. I grinned and laughed over it. I touted it. And now, with a bad review from the same outlet, I’m perfectly fine with shrugging it off and saying, “What does it matter? It’s just one reviewer.”

To some, this no doubt seems hypocritical. Perhaps slightly unhinged, LOL. But let me explain.

I’m doing what I have to do. What I’m called to do. It’s a ministry for me. While I know that my books aren’t the end-all-be-all, aren’t Shakespeare or Austen, likely won’t top any charts, I also know that I’ve written them for a reason. And that I have other stories to write for their own reasons. I have, now, commitments and obligations to fulfill. Contracts. Deadlines. I have to write.

And so, I have to feed my spirit. With prayer, with the Word…and with the encouragement of my brothers and sisters of the Church. I have to focus on the good. And I have to push aside the bad, the insecurities. Not criticism that help me grow, but that which just tears down? Out the window it goes.

I have to trust that whatever this book does, what any of my books do, it’s okay. I have to remember that it’s not about sales or reviews or awards or acclaim or royalty checks. It’s about obeying. Listening. And most of all, loving. Loving my Lord enough to write what books He lays on my heart. And loving you enough to risk insecurity and disappointment enough to put my work out there.

Though this isn’t exactly the insightful post I’d hoped to start the new year with, it’s a necessary one.

Yesterday I got a call from one of the ladies in my Bible study group. We have a couples group that meets every Friday–the adults do the study, and our kids play upstairs. For the eight adults, there are approximately, oh, a gazillion kids. 😉 Okay, so 11. Lots of enthusiasm there, and we’re all so glad to be building relationships for and with our precious little ones.

One of the kids from this group is 8-year-old Hailey. At our last study before Christmas break, her mom mentioned how Hailey’s balance had seemed off, though she’d been trying to hide it. Walking very slowly, and indulging in wobbles and railing-gripping only when she thought no one was looking. Then at our Christmas party, Mom mentioned how her pupils didn’t seem to be dilating correctly. No one else noticed this when she called Hailey over and kind of laughed it off.

Apparently Hailey has gone to the doctor a couple times since–the family was expecting this to be some kind of ear infection, to be causing balance issues. But yesterday a scan showed a growth at the base of her brain stem. A growth “four pencil-erasers high.” They’re not sure yet whether it’s a cyst or a tumor, benign or malignant. She goes in today for an MRI and tomorrow will travel to the Baltimore area to see a specialist at Johns Hopkins.

Please join me in praying for Hailey and her family. Her mom was, needless to say, panicked and terrified and far more than just “upset.” And as someone who has gotten to know this little girl a bit this fall, I just ache for them. Hailey is a girl with a big, golden heart, one who loves quickly and without restraint. 

Father God, we beseech you now for Hailey and her family. Though we can’t always understand Your ways, we know they’re there. Though we are baffled and shaken when such illness strikes our little ones, we know that You love them more than we ever could. Father, our healer and provider, please touch Hailey. Strengthen her for the scans and appointments, breathe Your peace into her, and touch Your finger to this growth. Make it shrink, vanish, change in whatever way it must to be nothing. Heal her, Lord our God.

And wrap Your arms around her family, please. I know this is a family that loves You so much, and I know right now they’re crying out to You in agony. Soothe them. Embrace them. Help them to feel You in every scary moment throughout this ordeal. Hold them so close that they can’t for a moment forget Who is in control.

In the name of Your precious Son we pray. Amen.

This time of year, if you want a study in eagerness, all you have to do is take a look at children. Okay, if mine are the example, then looking at them anytime will give you a study in eagerness. =) At times, all that anticipatory energy can be exhausting. But sometimes, it can be so very inspiring, can’t it?

I love that kids can be just as excited about a day of service as they are about a birthday party. That reading a book to their younger sibling is as much a cause for celebration as a trip to the ice cream shop. I love that making their father a Christmas present is as awesome for them as opening one of their own.

I love that they take such Joy from life–not just from the big things, but from the little. I love how they look forward to watching that new movie just as much the fifth time as the first. I love that they are always so eager for the things they love, no matter the work involved in getting them.

And I love that Jesus uses them as the example of how our faith should be.

I sometimes wonder when we lose that eagerness, that full-out Joy. I’m sure I’ve wondered it here before. But as an adult, it’s so easy to worry too much to enjoy things. To look at things like Christmas cookie baking as a time-consuming must instead of anticipated fun. It’s easy to look at all the holiday activities and see only the minutes and hours adding up–and counting down–and get stressed wondering how to fit it all in. It’s easy to look at that gift you want to get someone but can’t afford and feel disappointed.

And it’s so, so easy to forget to be eager about our faith. Sure, we talk about the Reason this time of year. But are we excited about it? Are we eager for Him every day of the year? Do we jump up and down for him morning after morning, like a four-year-old asking for his favorite breakfast?

This year, though I’m under deadline and anticipating a move and overall busier than usual this Christmas, I keep getting hit with this enormous gratitude for the enthusiasm of my children. It leaves me exhausted, but it reminds me of what matters. Of how I should be greeting the world. Of how I should be living my faith. 

It reminds me of how my heart should be before the Lord–all-out, bubbling-over, squealing with delight joyful.

I’m happy to say that this year (as opposed to most years), I’m nearly done my Christmas shopping already. I have a few things yet to pick up, but all the tricky ones are handled. I’m feeling on top of things there. Mostly. 😉 And as I talk with my kiddos about the real meaning of Christmas and all that fun stuff, I can’t help but think about the gifts I’m most grateful for.

I totally neglected to post on Thanksgiving (though I’d meant to, LOL), so I figured I’d take a few minutes now, halfway between the holidays, to give thanks for those gifts that make my life worth living.

Sometimes it just hits me anew how blessed I’ve been in my family life. God put me in a loving, amazing family growing up. One that protected without being overbearing. One that nurtured without stifling. One that provided fun as well as life-lessons to remember. My parents taught me to love God and follow Jesus, to chase after my dreams, and to always be myself. They somehow raised me to be secure in exactly who I was, so long as I was following the path the Lord wanted me on. I am so, so grateful for my family.

Then I happened to meet the man of my dreams at a very young age. Oh, that caused some nay-saying back then, to be sure. In this day and age, it just isn’t expected that you meet your soul mate at 15 and get married at 18 (by choice, not by shotgun, LOL). But David and I knew what we wanted and needed, and I don’t regret a moment of the last eleven and a half years of marriage. I am so, so blessed to have a husband who not only loves me but understands me. Who supports my every dream and encourages my every goal. No matter what comes and goes in this life, I know he’ll be beside me every moment he can be. And I am so grateful for that rare and precious gift.

And then the children God has given me! Goodness, I know most parents think the exact same thing, but these little people are just amazing. Sure, I get frustrated with them. But when I take a step back and really look at who they are, I can’t believe the sweet hearts they have, the Joy, the delight. They really are the lights in our lives, and I’m so, so proud of them. And grateful for every hug and cuddle, for every grin and giggle.

Then I look back over the years I’ve traveled to get to where I am, over the tears and letdowns in an attempt to build a career, and then at the place I’ve ended up. Not that I’m now a best-selling, raving success or anything, but I’m here. Where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m working with an editor who believes in me, with a house that believes in me, on projects that excite us all. I’m working as an editor with amazing authors whose stories leave me breathless. And I’m finally “supporting my habit,” as I call it. 😉

I have so much. So much to be grateful for, so many gifts that I’ve received, gifts that I never would have put on my list for Santa, but which far surpass that bike I had to have or the doll that was utterly necessary at age 7.

Don’t get me wrong, I love that new Dyson vacuum cleaner that just arrived yesterday, and all the other gifts my family blesses me with each year. 😉 But at the end of the day, when the new pots are in the cabinet and the new shirt is stained and worn, I can settle on my couch with the man I love and think, “Wow, Lord. You’ve given me love. You’ve given me family. You’ve given me my dreams. Please show me what I can give back to You to show You that Your love is what I prize above all.”

 Two weeks ago I brought up callings. And in the responses I got, I realized that I probably should have used different terminology, because while what I’ve been thinking about does encompass that lofty idea of “my Calling,” it’s not just about that. It’s about wherever we are right now.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the kind of society we’ve become. Everything is so instant these days, isn’t it? From mashed potatoes to messaging. We expect answers fast, we expect results fast. And so when things take time–as in, pray for years and years kind of time–we often give up. A disconnect has formed between our input and our output–we see things all the time on the news that makes us go, “Wow, something should be done!” … But we don’t really know what to do about it. 

As I’ve pondered this and looked to history (as we all know I always do, LOL) for answers, I really think the key is to change our perspective. It needs to start with our prayers–and I’ll be honest, this is a tough one for me. I say prayers on the fly as needs are presented, but so rarely do I find a quiet time to seek the Lord before I hear the needs, independently of specific requests. Which I need to fix. Because let’s face it, who wants to be in a relationship where you only talk when you need something? Sigh. Not me.

So I’m making an effort. And as I do, I’m adding a new prayer. It’s pretty simple. It just says, “Show me how to serve today, Lord.”

Now, this hasn’t resulted in any crystalline echoes of “Go here and do this life-altering thing.” To be expected. Because if I want to help a change come, in my life or my church or my community, I have to start with the little things, the inside things. I have to listen to those whispers that show me first how to be a good wife, a good mom, a good me.

And then…then I have to look. Look for the path He wants me trodding. Look for ways to help. Look for ways to serve. I can’t expect to just go on with my everyday life until some perfect opportunity to show the love of the Lord appears before me. Oh, those will come every now and then. But if I go out seeking? If I go through each day looking for ways to help others? If I think about that before I think about me? If we all do? 

Hmm. Doesn’t it just make you wonder what might happen?

I’m going to be thinking a lot about this over the next few months, and I’m going to be talking to people far better at it than I, people who have made a real, quiet difference in the lives of others. I’m going to be sharing these stories in a monthly column in Book Fun Magazine, and I’m going to be praying. Praying that we all push the “pause” button. Praying that we blink away the haze of instant-this and immediate-that. Praying that we finally look. Not just at what needs done. But at what we can do.