You know how it goes. You’re going through your day, probably thinking about the twelve things you’re juggling at that particular moment. In the back of your mind you’ve been turning something over. And over. And over. Not exactly worrying, not exactly fretting (or maybe you are, LOL), but it’s there. Always there.

Like, you know, this proposal I’m going to submit soon.

In the weeks you’ve been turning and churning and considering this thing, whatever it may be, a certain number of options have presented themselves. You’re not sure any will work out, but you’re going to try. Because, well, what else do you?

Then out of the blue, it hits. It. That realization that there is another option, a better option. An option that seems to have come from nowhere in your brain, since you already dismissed it through your awesome logic (ahem).

I had one of those moments yesterday concerning that soon-to-be-submitted proposal, where I realized an option I thought not an option might in fact be the best option. So I sent an email. Got an encouraging response. The kind that left me going, “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that from the get-go?”

Those are the moments that remind me of why it’s awesome to be in communion with our Lord. I seldom get answers while I’m praying, but they come at those odd moments during the day. Those whispers, those sudden realizations. I know there are those out there who don’t attribute them to God, and certainly I have those bolts of inspiration that I don’t consider divine. But when they come with a peace beyond which my own mind tends to fabricate, that’s when I know.

As sure when my husband makes a great suggestion I hadn’t thought of, God has given me a nudge. And obedience never tastes as sweet as in those moments, either, because I know only good will come of it. Maybe not the good I envision, but good nonetheless. =)

So . . . have you had any God moments lately?

Thanks to the wonders of Facebook, I think many of us get to connect with old friends we otherwise wouldn’t see, right? It can be super awesome to exchange even a few lines with a buddy from high school you haven’t spoken to in a decade. It is for me, anyway. =)

Yesterday was Brittney’s birthday–Brittney was my absolutely-without-a-doubt-best-friend from age 5 through about 14. We drifted apart a bit in high school–stayed friendly, but not inseparable by any means. Still, May 18th can’t roll around without me thinking of her. Thinking of all the fun we had over the years. The fashion showed, the magazine we made from photos glued with the decorative, neon-colored paints so popular in the late ’80s, the games of make-believe that kept us entertained for days on end.

I also just touched base with another girl from our middle school group, Melissa. Melissa took to calling me “Mom” in 8th grade, and my nickname for her was Mylissa. When I finished my first novel, she was at my house. And when I came into school the following Monday, she’d made me a card that said, “So proud of you, Mommy.”

These are a few of the girls that grew with me, whose friendships shaped me. Girls I rarely talk to, more rarely still manage to see . . . but who are often in my prayers.

As someone who married her high school sweetheart, it’s sometimes really sad to realize I never talk to my high school friends. For someone who emails her best friend (who she’s only met twice) several times a day, it’s baffling why I can’t keep in touch with these others.

It’s strange how different our lives are.

Brittney’s lived in New York, is now in Pittsburgh. She’s in marketing and is, when last I saw her, one of those statuesque, model-esque women who always look gorgeous with their yoga-inspired figures and impeccable fashion sense. Needless to say, I felt a bit dowdy when I last hugged her–I was six months pregnant with Rowyn and carrying Xoe on my hip.

Melissa, on the other hand, lives out in the country, within driving distance of me, but I couldn’t tell you how to get to her house, LOL. She has four kids and helps her husband run his construction company. One of the last times I saw her was at her wedding, when she and her husband (each having a daughter already), pledged their lives and joined their families. It’s the only wedding I ever cried at, so beautiful was it when her little girl pointed at the bride coming up the aisle and declared happily, “Mama!”

Ever wonder what these old friends see if they look at you? I do. Yes, I’ve fulfilled my goal of being an author–more or less, LOL. I have books out . . . on a small scale. I have a big(ish) contract . . . but it’s not out. And even when it is, it’s just one book. I’m not a household name. I doubt I’ll ever be a household name. My house is old and not exactly breathtaking. I could probably make it nicer, but I choose to spend my energy writing. And homeschooling. I like to think I put myself together pretty well, but let’s be honest–no flat, yoga bellies here. I generally come to the conclusion that “slender” is good enough, since I don’t have to work for it. “Fit” just takes too much work, LOL.

But most of all, I hope that when I see these old friends again, they see the Annie they loved. They see a girl who chased her dreams. They see a woman glad she made the decisions she made, who loves her life even when it isn’t glamorous or hugely successful. I hope they see the same thing I do–a woman who has been shaped by great childhood friends into an adult worth knowing.

How about you guys? Do you still keep in touch with your very first best friends?

The Deeps

Lord Jesus, give me a deeper repentance,
a horror of sin, a dread of its approach.
Help me chastely to flee it
and jealously to resolve that my heart shall be Thine alone.

Give me a deeper trust, that I may lose myself
to find myself in Thee,
the ground of my rest, the spring of my being.
Give me a deeper knowledge of Thyself
as saviour, master, lord, and king.

Give me deeper power in private prayer,
more sweetness in Thy Word,
more steadfast grip on its truth.

Give me deeper holiness in speech, thought, action,
and let me not seek moral virtue apart from Thee.

Plough deep in me, great Lord, heavenly husbandman,
that my being may be a tilled field,
the roots of grace spreading far and wide,
until Thou alone art seen in me,
Thy beauty golden like summer harvest,
Thy fruitfulness as autumn plenty.

I have no master but Thee, no law but Thy will,
no delight but Thyself, no wealth but that Thou givest,
no good but that Thou blessest, no peace but that Thou bestowest.

I am nothing but that Thou makest me.
I have nothing but that I receive from Thee.
I can be nothing but that grace adorns me.

Quarry me deep, dear Lord, and then fill me
to overflowing with living water.

Devotion

God of my end, it is my greatest, noblest pleasure
to be acquainted with Thee
and with my rational, immortal soul;
it is sweet and entertaining to look into my being
when all my powers and passions
are united and engaged in pursuit of Thee,
when my soul longs and passionately breathes
after conformity to Thee and the full enjoyment of Thee;
no hours pass away with so much pleasure
as those spent in communion with Thee
and with my heart.

O how desirable, how profitable to the Christian life
is a spirit of holy watchfulness and godly jealousy over myself
when my soul is afraid of nothing
except grieving and offending Thee,
the blessed God, my Father and friend,
whom I then love and long to please,
rather than be happy in myself!
Knowing, as I do, that this is the pious temper,
worthy of the highest ambition,
and closest pursuit of intelligent creatures and holy Christians,
may my Joy derive from glorifying and delighting Thee.

I long to fill all my time for Thee,
whether at home or in the way;
to place all my concerns in Thy hands;
to be entirely at Thy disposal,
having no will or interest of my own.
Help me to live to Thee for ever,
to make Thee my last and only end,
so that I may never more in one instance
love my sinful self.

Happy Cinqo de Mayo, everyone! We’ll be having enchiladas and arroz con leche tonight. (Homeschool, you know. It’s educational, LOL.) Now onto the actual blog. 😉

Last night I had the honor of visiting the women’s group at Trinity Assembly of God in Midlothian, Maryland to chat about being an author and a little about my books. One of my mother-in-law’s good friends belongs to this group and put a bug in the leader’s ear about inviting me, and I’m so glad she did.

I’ve spoken at libraries twice, and in some ways this was a lot like those. But in a few key ways, it wasn’t. Because though I’d never met these women before, it was like meeting friends. Chatting with them was like chatting with family you hadn’t seen in a while. We had so much fun, they made me feel so welcome, and as I tried to pinpoint why, I came to the conclusion that it’s because we know from the get-go we have a lot in common, starting with that most basic thing–our faith.

At the Library talks I certainly didn’t sidestep the fact that I write Biblical fiction, but the questions people asked tended to point in other directions. At Trinity last night, so much conversation either led back to the Lord or reflected Him. Not always overtly, but it was there. Always there, because He is always in us.

It really hammered home why Paul tells us not to forsake the fellowship of other believers. That fellowship, that communion is so awesome, and so important. Not just in church itself–which is also awesome and important, don’t get me wrong–but in those after-church meetings. Those times when like-minded folks get together for fun and just let the Lord Shine through them.

This is the same reason I so enjoy going to Christian writers conferences, now that I think about it. It’s a chance to talk to other people who are like-minded. And hence why I’m so looking forward to going to Hagerstown, Maryland on Saturday for the Washington County Reading Day at the Valley Mall. There I’ll get to chat with a couple other fellow Christian writers, and I’m really looking forward to that (whether I sell any books or not, LOL).

So what’s your favorite time of fellowship? At church? A Bible study? A writers group? Perhaps at a Jane Austen readers group? A homeschool group? Where is it you feel most at home and can have fun that fills you up inside?

I’m not a worrier. I am, in fact, convinced there’s a worry gene, and that my sister got it double strength, leaving me with a lack. And sometimes it definitely feels like a bad thing, this no-worrying. It makes me lax about things I should be on top of. I occasionally wonder if a serious issue would go too long without being noticed by laid-back me. Yeah, that’s right–sometimes I worry about not worrying. 😉

Last night I discovered something I do worry about, and worry about in spades. Brace yourself: the weather.

Yeah. (Sigh.) I get really worried about weather. To be precise, severe thunder storms.

Now, here’s the history. I was probably always a little scared of storms and such as a kid, but it got really bad when I turned six. There was a fire on the hill next door, on my birthday, and it gave me a real phobia about fire. And since I knew lightning strikes could cause fire . . .

I got over that. I even enjoy a healthy thunderstorm these days. Really, truly enjoy them. But now, apparently, I get pretty upset when they throw tornado warning/watches into the mix. At night. When I’m supposed to be sleeping, on the top floor of my house, with my kids on the main floor. (This fear started in high school, when graduation was canceled because of tornadoes that sent us all into the auditorium for a couple hours.)

For the second night in a row, we had those warnings. On Tuesday night when we switched over to the emergency broadcast thingy, a nice computerized voice was warning us that a system that “could” spawn tornadoes was spotted in Frostburg, moving east. Ahem–that would be toward my town, about fifteen miles away. The warning included “take cover immediately.” 

Apparently those are magic words to make my latent worry-gene activate. Because I don’t think I relaxed until the warning expired at 9:37, and if David hadn’t stopped me, I would have had the kids out of bed and downstairs with us.

Now, that was for Tuesday, when the forecast just said “thunder storms,” no “severe” tacked on. Because they had reserved the “severe” warning for last night. And of course, the news was filled with man-killing tornadoes. We barely had clouds by the time we put the kids to bed last night, but yet again my TV was interrupted with tornado warnings. No rain or anything by the time I went to bed at 11, but I woke up when it started at 1:30.

And the worry kicked in. What if a tornado came while we were in bed? What warning would we have? Would the fire-siren go off? Was that it there?? No, wind. Just the wind. The really strong, gusty wind. And the thunder. And lightning. (Well, hey, at least I’m not scared of that anymore!) The kids were sleeping through it, which was good. But if there was a tornado, and we somehow had enough warning to get out of the top floor, would we have enough time to wake the kids? Could I run fast enough on my still-sore ankle?

Maybe we should all just camp out on the pull-out couch in the basement . . .

I prayed. And I prayed. I repeated like a mantra, “I trust you, Lord, I trust you, Lord, I trust you, Lord to take care of my family.” I listened to the thunder (which really wasn’t that bad. It’s kinda embarrassing how not severe this system was around here, considering my middle-night worry) and strained to hear the tell-tale signs of trouble.

At 2 I got up and checked the weather forecast, just to make sure there were no computerized voices telling me to take cover. The tornado warning was still in effect (is actually still in effect as I write this), but the computer now agreed that this storm wasn’t severe, just a storm. I felt a degree better. I went back to bed, told my hubby the update, and he said something along the lines of “Muh huh. Zzzzzz.”

I seriously don’t know how you midwesterners deal with this so often. Or maybe it’s because here in Maryland it’s not so common that I get so worked up. But as the storm moved off and I was jumping, now, at the silence (seriously, Roseanna? Now the quiet is making you nervous?? What do you think this is, the eye of a hurricane?), I put some consideration into worry and faith.

Here’s what I observed about myself. It’s easy to hide my worry when it doesn’t interfere with normal operations–like during the day, when I can just herd the kids downstairs to watch TV during a warning. And it’s easy to pray the right things, all the things I’ve been taught, in these circumstances. It’s not as easy to let go.

But you know what else? Trusting the Lord through our worry doesn’t always mean that we don’t worry. Sometimes we’re supposed to be worried enough to take care of ourselves and our families. This isn’t fretting, it’s responsibility. It’s okay that I was concerned about getting my kids to safety in the event of a tornado, okay that I was making a plan.

What wasn’t okay was that the worry was just as intense in the silence. But then I remembered that prophet (Elisha maybe?) who was running away from the evil queen, seeking the Lord. And He wasn’t in the tempest, and He wasn’t in the earthquake, and He wasn’t in any other fierce, terrible show . . . but He was in the whisper. As I considered that last night, I listened for the whisper. And my shoulders finally relaxed, I could smile at myself, and sleep took hold again.

This morning I woke up with a sore neck, sleepy eyes, and the conviction that even had an F5 ripped through the area like it did a decade ago, even if the worst had happened, the Lord would have been right there, taking care of us. Instead, He took care of us by doing exactly what I prayed and chasing the storm away. I reminded myself that it isn’t that the Lord isn’t present in the storms, the quakes, the violence . . . it’s more that we can’t hear His still, small voice until we quiet the rage within and listen.

Listen. Listen to the whisper.

I’ll probably always be afraid of tornadoes. That’s probably a fairly healthy fear, as fears go. I’ll probably wake up again when I know there’s a warning and be nervous. But you know what? Next time I don’t want to wait until the storm moves off to hear the whisper. 

Next time, I’m going to find the whisper in the storm.