by Roseanna White | Apr 5, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
We’re doing a study of the cross at church, and last week as we discussed how Jesus knew all his life where he was headed, knew that he was to be the Servant talked about in Isaiah 53, the one that would justify the world.
He knew, always knew, that he would have to die. And not just die, but die for out sins.
Today is Maundy Thursday (just looked up Maundy, which means “Last Supper,” go figure), the day Jesus and his disciples gathered in that upper room for the Passover meal. My church will be having a messianic seder this evening, as a matter of fact. Jesus shed new meaning on the old ritual that night, didn’t he? He offered new interpretations of what they’d all done every year forever. He opened their eyes to the fact that he was fulfilling parts of the ceremony that were prophecy.
He washed their feet, showing what a Servant should do. He gave them a new commission, a new commandment.
Then he went out to the garden to pray.
That prayer–wow. It’s the most heart-wrenching, gut-twisting prayer in the gospels to me. He knows exactly what’s coming. He knows why it’s coming. And he dreads it. So much that he asks the Father to take this cup from him, if it’s possible. But above all, he wants the will of God.
Though I’ve dwelt on this prayer a lot, I’d never before questioned why he wanted the cup taken from him. It makes perfect sense, after all. Right? Who would want to go to the cross? Who wouldn’t pray to be saved from such an agonizing death, if there were another way to achieve the same ends?
But a new thought occurred to me this weekend. Was it the death Jesus dreaded so? The physical pain, those terrible hours?
Or was it the sin he dreaded?
See, it wasn’t just that Jesus knew the “what” of what was coming–it had a purpose. And pain with purpose is easier to face. We can go through birth because we know it’s how a baby enters the world. People jump in front of moving cars if it saves the child they push out of the way. So the pain . . . yes, I’m sure it gave Jesus pause.
But what really causes Jesus pain? What makes his heart twist throughout the gospels? What always seems to get to him most?
Sin. Separation from the Father.
Think about it. All his life, Jesus has been blameless. Sinless. Perfect. And that is a big part of why he’s one with God. There’s nothing to separate them. He can approach the throne even from earth, because he has done no wrong to keep him away.
But the cross, to Jesus, wouldn’t just represent false punishment or torture. He knew well that when he took that punishment, he was the sacrificial lamb. He was taking the sins.
And oh, the sins. Can you imagine looking, in a few short hours, at every single sin in history? Every…single…sin. The lies and betrayals, the murders and rapes–piled on his shoulders. The infidelities and idolatries, the outright worship of Satan and demons–all on him. He, who had never once sinned, whose heart grieved whenever he saw a sin in us, would be under that weight. All that weight. Guilty, in that moment, of the most heinous crimes. Guilty of blaspheming the Father he loved above all. Guilty of everything. Everything.
That, I think, is what made him sweat blood in the garden. That is what made him say, “Father, must I? Is there no other way?” That, far more than physical agony, is the pain that Jesus feared. After all, it could have been any kind of death, right? And it would have sufficed. The sacrifice didn’t require a cross.
But I daresay Jesus still would have prayed that prayer, even if facing a lethal injection. Not because of the physical, not because of the death.
Because of the sin.
Thank you, Jesus, for facing that unfathomable, crushing mountain of weight upon your shoulders for me. Thank you for taking my sins on yourself that day so long ago. Thank you for loving me so much that you faced it, even knowing it would mean the agony of separation from your Father. You did it so that I might draw near to Him.
Never can I thank you enough for that. But I’ll spend the rest of my life trying.
by Roseanna White | Mar 29, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
“An original writer is not one who imitates nobody, but one whom nobody can imitate.” ~ Francois Rene Chateaubriand
Last Friday my friends and family surprised me with a celebration for me and my books, and it was such a fun party, filled with such beautiful elements, that I just have to share. =)
My day had been dedicated to cleaning. I pulled on a shirt I’d just found shoved between two others in my closet, which I’d been looking for for months–the one my best friend sent me for my birthday a year and a half ago, that says “Reading Is Sexy.” Oh yeah, that’s me. LOL. Then I got down to business. I dusted. I straightened. I swept. I scrubbed. All with the knowledge that doing so would make my sciatica shoot pain all through my back and hips that night. It always, always does. See, this is why I don’t clean! 😉
“Imagination and fiction make up more than three-quarters of our real life.” ~ Simone Weil
As David was headed out to run an errand, he paused at the door to say, “Hey, think about if you’d like to go to dinner tonight or something. I could use a good dinner and a nice glass of wine.”
Me, giving him The Look. “Honey, do I ever pass up going out to dinner?”
David: “Well, think about where you’d like to go. Someplace where we can sit back and relax.”
Which meant not fast-food–got it. I got back to work, scrubbing etc. And luckily started to get a headache in late afternoon, which prompted me to take some ibuprofen–something I otherwise never think to do for other pain, though I’m pretty sure that’s what saved me from hobbling around all evening going, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”
“The creative person is flexible–he is able to change as the situation changes, to break habits, to face indecision and changes in conditions without undue stress. He is not threatened by the unexpected as rigid, inflexible people are.” ~ Frank Goble
Round about 5, I started looking at the clock. David was on the phone (not an unusual occurrence) but he hadn’t mentioned anything else about dinner. Did I need to cook? I assumed not. I’m good at that assumption. 😉 Eventually he came up to shower. Xoe asked if I’d put Egyptian eyes on her with my eyeliner–sure, why not!–so I slapped some makeup on myself as well and said, “I guess I should change out of my t-shirt.” Though I didn’t. Not until David was headed back downstairs to “take care of a few more things” (insert my stomach going “No! Grrrrrooooowwwwwllllll.”) and said, “Are you ready? I thought you were going to change. Maybe Mommy could match Xoe.”
Xoe liked that idea and pulled me up the stairs to try to match her cute little shirt and skirt. I obligingly changed, then was informed that my mother-in-law thought she left her wallet at the church earlier, so we had to stop over and check before we went to dinner. (Church being two minutes from our house.) Okay. Nothing unusual there, LOL. So we headed to the church.
“None of us will ever accomplish anything excellent or commanding except when he listens to this whisper which is heard by him alone.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
And I saw the cars. Which made me think, “Hmm, the 4-H club must be doing something. But their night is Thursday, not Friday. I wonder what . . . is that Mom and Dad’s car? What in the world are they doing here?” Then the car in front of us pulled in and proved to be my neighbors growing up. I sent David another Look and said, “What’s going on?”
David said, “I don’t know. Go in and see.”
Riiiiiiiight. That’s when I knew what was happening. Still, I was shocked beyond shocked when I opened the door and saw two of my out-of-town friends there with their kids!
All around the room, in addition to the amazing friends and family who had come to celebrate with me, including my high school cross-country coach, those out-of-towners, and several others who had cheered me on all my life but I rarely see anymore, were decorations that proved how well my mom and sister knew me. My sister’s school had donated some books that were in terrible shape and so could be cut up, so decorations were all made from or around book pages.
“A great book should leave you with many experiences and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading it.” ~ William Styron
There were pages cut into leaf-shapes all over, sometimes attached to brown-paper trees, or to my mom’s cute little twig arrangement, and also scattered on the tables. (And yes, I’m such a dork that I sat there eating and trying to figure out which book they might have come from by reading the 4-words I could see per line, LOL.) And of course, the calla lily arrangement. =)
My sister had also found a bunch of quotes on books/writers that she’d printed and matted and put on the walls. (Those would be the things I’m quoting here.) So awesome! Even the cakes were books!
“Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.” ~ Rudyard Kipling
It was a fabulous party, and I had such a great time hanging out with my friends and family and being amazed that they had all gone to such trouble for me. So a huge, big thanks to everyone who came. The hugest, biggest thanks to Mom and Jen for planning such a perfect-for-me party. And for all my writers friends, take notes on those decorations!! They so make the perfect book party! =)
“These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves.” ~ Gilbert Highet
I had a few moments of surreal euphoria when I looked around and saw my book covers, my books, my titles on the walls. Was this real? Did I really have that many books on or destined for the shelves? Hard to believe. And while I’m certainly not famous or best-selling or anything like that, I’m living my dream. And that is just a blessing beyond what any words can ever express.
“Success comes to a writer, as a rule, so gradually that it is always something of a shock to him to look back and realize the heights to which he has climbed.” ~ P.G. Wodehouse
by Roseanna White | Mar 22, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
In both my personal Bible reading and what I do with Xoe for her home school, I’ve been immersed in the Gospels lately. And of course, it’s no surprise that, being in the Lenten season, our studies at church have centered around Him too.
But the more I read, the more I reflect, the more I’m struck by certain things . . . the more I realize that I tend to focus on what He went through, what He did, how others reacted to Him. And not so much on the Son of Man himself. Which is why, I think, I’m so struck by it when an insight into His personality hits me.
In fact, that, there. Personality. Do you think of Jesus as having a personality? Strange question, I know, LOL. And maybe I ask because I’m a writer. See, in fiction, the more toward perfect a character tends, the flatter they have the potential to be. It’s the flaws, the mistakes that make them real. That make them lovable. That make them personable.
So reading the Gospels as one would a story . . . well, I’ve had to occasionally remind myself that these aren’t stories, not like what I write. And Jesus is more than just the wise mentor I might toss in as a secondary character into one of my novels. He’s it. The story. The character. The goal. The conflict. The resolution. It’s not outside Him like the events often are in one of my books. It’s embodied by Him.
And that makes me pause and study my Lord in a new light.
A while back, when Xoe was having one of those days where she didn’t want to read, I tried to lure her into her Bible story for the day by saying, “Oo, look at the picture. What do you think this one will be about?”
Rowyn, seeing Jesus in the picture, shouted, “It’s Jesus! It’s about how He takes care of us!”
He nailed that one, didn’t he? No matter the particular story, that’s what it always comes down to. That Jesus loves us. This perfect Man, the one who never made a mistake, still had to deal with the consequences of mistakes–ours. Which He did because His heart, unsoiled by any dark emotions, was always, always squeezed in compassion for us.
It’s so easy to think of Jesus on the cosmic scale–the Savior of mankind. But you know, mankind is pretty darn big. The cosmos is rather, um, large. And me? I’m small. Just a woman in the immense crowd of people watching the Son of God. Back at the edge of the crowd, maybe, unable to see the exact gleam in his eye or the way His mouth turns up in a smile.
But that’s not good enough. Ever pause to think about whose stories made it into the gospels? The ones who pushed forward. The ones who said distant wasn’t good enough, that curiosity wouldn’t cut it. The ones who elbowed their way forward until they could look Jesus in the eye and see His love for them.
Can you see His love for you? That He didn’t just create those cosmos with His hand, He stretched it out toward you and said, “Rise up. Sin no more. Follow me.”?
I always remember what Jesus did–but sometimes I’m just struck dumb by who He is. And yet I can kind of understand why some people could see Him and not believe . . . because who can believe a perfect character? In fiction, the only way to make a nearly-perfect character likable is to fill them with love so huge you just can’t deny it.
Yeah. Jesus kinda has that one down, doesn’t He?
This Lenten season, I’m going to be spending a lot of time meditating on the person of my Lord. The personality. The character. The humanity that filled this Savior. The perfection that lifted this Man above mankind.
And each time I know I’m going to be filled with awe. Because there’s just so much He did, so much He is. And it’s all for us.
by Roseanna White | Mar 15, 2012 | Remember When Wednesdays, Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
As you can undoubtedly tell if you’ve read my last couple Remember When posts, I’m currently in one of my favorite places to be–brainstorming mode. I’ve finished one book, have all but wrapped up my edits on the one due in a few weeks. And ready to get down to business on the next ones in my schedule. You know, the ones that I either sold on a paragraph as a second book in a series or are trying to sell based on a chapter or two. The ones I don’t quite know yet.
I love brainstorming. And while I try not to make this blog focus on things that will only appeal to writers, bear with me. Let’s see where I can go with this. 😉
My agent has deemed me “an idea gal,” which is a really good description. And why I have dozens of unfinished manuscripts that I start just to get an idea down on paper (or screen, as the case may be) but don’t have the leisure to finish at a given point. Ideas for books have always hit me at odd moments. They churn around my brain all on their own until they’re full-blown and ready to be written. And oh, how I love that. That day or two of discovery as two disparate ideas click together to make a story.
But this is the first time in my life when I’m brainstorming with expectations, and I gotta say, it’s a whole new feeling. In the past, it’s always been me being intrigued by something, me thinking, “Hey, that would make a great book!” I’ve never before had to wonder if someone in particular would like it. As in, enough to have their company shell out a couple grand for it. But now this brainstorming isn’t for me. It’s for my editors, my publishers. Those people who said, “Hey, could you get me a proposal on this?”
This? That thing there? Hmm. Never thought about that before. Let me see what I can come up with.
The past two weeks as I’ve done this, I’ve had to engage my brain in a whole new way. Gather specific information to me and try to find the story in it. Try to make it mine. With each of the stories I’ve been brainstorming (and there are three of them!), I’ve prayed, Lord, help me find a way to make this exciting for myself.
And He has. Oh, He has. With the first story I was working on, in sending a long, rambling email about it to my best friend and critique partner, I stumbled upon the perfect hook for myself–bringing in some characters I absolutely adore from a book I never wrote more than a chapter or two on and plopping them into my new circumstances.
I am now totally in love with this idea. Because I love, love, love those characters that have now become Elise Ashton and Nicolas Montagu. Love them! And I’m so excited for the chance to write this new story of theirs.
Then just the other day I was brainstorming my second Culper Ring book and prayed, Lord, give me a handle on who these characters are, one that will make me love them as much as Elise and Nicolas. Within minutes–minutes!–it hit me. That Gwyneth uses her art to share secrets–oh, that was just what I needed!
There are so many parts of life that don’t have such easy answers. So many parts that I pray for answers about and then listen to silence. So many times I ask, Lord, please tell me what to do here but have to wait sooooooo long to get a response. Honestly, I’m there in another part of my life right now. My husband and I (I as an adviser and party of interest, though it’s not really my decision) have some tough choices in our immediate future, and frankly, I have no idea what we’re supposed to do. I’m praying, but the answers don’t come quite so easily or surely as when I just need to craft new characters.
Part of me wonders why it works that way. Part of me thinks that there are probably those in the world who would sneer at me for focusing on a fictional world when my real one is in need of some serious attention. But the answer’s obvious, and one my husband thankfully understands as well as I do–this is who I am, what I’m called to do. This is my part right now. When I think of all the years I worked and worked to get published, when I think about where I was even this time last year, wondering how I was going to get that next sale, and look at God’s timing–yeah, it’s pretty clear He led me to this place in my career right now because now is when we need it.
Yeah, okay, this wasn’t where I expected this post to go, LOL. But I guess that’s what Roseanna is thoughtful about today. I would really appreciate your prayers as my hubby and I make some big decisions in the next week.
And I’d also like to hear from you on where you feel most comfortable. When there are parts of your life just a quakin’ and a shakin’, when the storm’s raging on one front, where do you go to find that peace? What’s the thing you do that makes you feel capable and able to pull your weight? For me, it’s writing, and especially coming up with new ideas. What is it for you?
by Roseanna White | Mar 8, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Allow me to draw your attention to Mark 4:37-41:
37 And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat,
so that it was already filling. 38 But
He was in the stern,
asleep on a pillow. And they awoke Him and said to
Him,
“Teacher, do You not care that we are perishing?”
39 Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea,
“Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased and there was a great calm.
40 But He said to them, “Why are you so fearful? How is it that you
have no faith?”[d] 41 And they feared exceedingly, and said
to one another, “Who can this be, that even the wind
and the sea obey Him!”
Now, I’ve read those words approximately a hundred times, and I’m guessing everyone else has too. And I’ve always gotten out of it what the disciples did–wow, did you see that? The wind and waves obey Him! This Man rules the weather!!
Which is awesome. Truly, amazingly awesome.
I’ve also been struck before by His rebuke of the disciples–they’d just witnessed an amazing miracle, when He fed the 5,000. But they still didn’t quite get it . . . and Jesus calls them on that, on their lack of faith.
But as I was reading this section on Monday, something new hit me.
He didn’t have to do any of that. Ever pause to consider that? It wasn’t His time to die. He still had a whole lot to do. There was no possible way that the storm was going to hurt that little boat with its most precious cargo, and Jesus surely knew it. He had no fear, and it wasn’t just because He knew He could calm the storm–it was because He knew it wasn’t a threat.
And yet.
When his friends, his disciples wake him in a panic, what’s his first reaction? He calms the storm. He doesn’t first try to explain it to them. He doesn’t roll his eyes and go back to sleep. He calms the storm. He does that for them–not to prove He can, but because He loved them. Because He didn’t want them to fear.
And, maybe, because He knows they wouldn’t have heard him until that fear was gone.
I don’t know why I’m constantly amazed when I realize how far out of His way our Lord goes for us, but it hit me anew here. Jesus could have done any number of things in this situation, and no matter what He had chosen, we know the outcome would have been a safe arrival on the other side. He could have done any number of things that resulted in the disciples seeing His glory.
But He chose the one that calmed his friends. That soothed their fears. And then, then he reminded them to have faith.
Thank you, Lord, for knowing me so well. For knowing that when the storm’s upon me, I can’t remember the sunshine was ever there. For knowing that clutching for you is, sometimes, all I can do. Thank you, Lord, for making it all I need to do.
Because You calm the storm. And then You remind me that it was in Your hand all along.
by Roseanna White | Mar 1, 2012 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Dear Lord,
Thank you so much for all you are. Thank you for hands big enough to craft a universe and small enough to cradle our hearts. Thank you, Father, for the comfort in your invisible touch and the assurances you’ve given us because you know we need them. You are all things holy, all things good. If there’s beauty in the world, it’s your fingerprint. I thank you so much, Lord, for giving us the eyes, both spiritual and physical, with which to see it.
Father, my heart aches today for all the need I see in those around me. For those who have lost people dear to them through accident, illness, or violence. For those who are suffering from debilitation, who are daily in pain. I pray for those who are struggling to get through another day, be it because of physical trial or mental fatigue.
Thank you so much, Father, for all you’ve done in my life this past year. I look back and have to shake my head in wonder at how far my path has come. Yet when looking, I also see the pain of those I love most. And it brings tears to my eyes. Do I understand why it happens this way, that my moments of great
Joy are shadowed by their loss? Of course not. It doesn’t seem fair that we can’t be in times of rejoicing together. Do I want their situations to change? So much, Lord, yes!
But I’m trusting. I’m trusting that this, too, is part of your plan. I’m trusting that the darkest valley is cast in the shadow of your wing, that the widest prairie is your hand stretched out. I’m trusting, Lord, and I’m yearning. Yearning upward, onward, toward you.
For them. My prayers are often for myself, because, well, I know how much I need you. I know how everyday successes rely on you. I know that those days I forget to put it all in your hands, I’m quickly throwing mine up in frustration. But today, Lord, the ache in my heart is for my friends and loved ones.
For each of them today I pray a special blessing. A soft word of encouragement, a loud shout of
Joy. I pray that in some way only you can anticipate and devise, they are lifted up today. Lord, edify them, help us to edify each other–whisper in each of our ears how we can build up those we love. And then, oh God my God, whisper confidence into their hearts. Pour your water upon them to make the seeds of comfort grow.
Frail as our eyes may be, we want to see, Lord. We want to see why we’ve been put in the places we have, why things don’t work as we should. We want to see where we’re going. Where you can, give my loved ones a glimpse–just a glimpse of your guidance through these times, of the light waiting at the edge of the shadow. Where you can’t, breathe into their spirits, Father, that comfort that comes on the sweetest of nights, when being unable to see makes us all the more aware of the sound of your voice. Call to them in that whisper, speak peace to them.
Thank you, Father, for being that water that nourishes us and makes us grow. Thank you for being the fire that cleanses us, that lights us with your spirit. Thank you for being the wind that breathes life into us. Thank you for being the earth in which we’re grounded. Thank you, Lord God, for being all, for being every, for being the One to whom we can turn.
And thank you for these amazing, beautiful people you’ve put in my life. So often they are what lights hope in me when frustration or disappointment plagues me. Let it be their turn today, God, to receive that encouraging embrace. Lift them up and help them soar…all the way to their place of peace.
In the name of your precious Son,
Amen.
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.