Thursday, December 29, 2016

My Favorite Books of 2016

In the past, I’ve enjoyed sharing highlights with you at the end of the year—fun events, travels, milestones. But this year, at least the second half of it, I’ve mainly sat behind a desk or in a library carrel, and I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be interested in the hours upon hours that I’ve spent just sitting still, staring at a screen, trying to create something meaningful and interesting.

This year I’ve read more than I’ve read in a long time, mainly for research, but because of all the reading I’ve done, I thought I’d share some of the books that impacted me the most. This is by no means a comprehensive list—I’ve read some excellent books by people I really admire—these are just a few of the books that have impacted me in some significant way or that have surprised me or encouraged me.

Everyone Brave isForgiven by Chris Cleave.


I’m a fiction gal. Fiction is my thing. I will always pick up a fiction book over a non-fiction book . . . until this year. I just haven’t had time to read much fiction, but one I did read and really enjoy was this book by Chris Cleave. I loved his first book, Little Bee, which is still high on my all-time favorites list. This book is probably just as good, but very different.

Rhythms of Rest by Shelly Miller

Shelly is a blogging friend whom I had the great fortune to meet in person once. I admire her writing so much—her blog is a lovely, peaceful, thoughtful spot, and this book is an extension of Shelly’s peaceful, thoughtful place in the writing world. She encourages me to take God’s gift of rest seriously in order to live a life of greater service to the world. Shelly not only writes about this, but she lives it as she and her husband minister in London, England.



I had the great pleasure of hearing Jen speak at my church as a part of her book launch earlier this year. When she finished speaking, I promptly headed to the book table and greedily bought ten copies. This book is a God-exalting, God-honoring book, extolling His many virtues and explaining why it’s a good thing that He’s God and we are not.

The Meaning of Marriage by Timothy Keller


While this book has been around for a while (it came out in 2011), I hadn’t read it until this year when Brian and I did pre-marital counseling with a dear couple. We were both blown away by this book and have recommended it several times, even to single people we know. By far the best book on marriage I’ve ever read.



And speaking on the best book I’ve ever read on a topic . . . this one is hand’s down THE BEST book on parenting I’ve ever read. And, believe me, I’ve read a LOT of parenting books. (In fact, I’m writing one!) But seriously, if you’re a parent, no matter how old or young your kids are, you really need to read this book. I can’t recommend it highly enough.



The book that probably blew me away and surprised me the most this year. I didn’t think I’d like it—I’m not into reading theology or philosophy, if I’m honest—but I read this for some research for my own book. I ended up loving it and recommending it to a whole host of people this year. The premise is fairly simple: you worship what you love and what you love is what you spend your time on. It’s a caution to us all.

Up Next:

Here are a few books that are next on my list. I can’t wait to dig into these over the next couple of weeks.

Crossing the Waters by Leslie Leyland Fields


Leslie lives in Alaska and works alongside her husband as a commercial fisherwoman. She also writes about her life and faith, and in this book, Leslie examines Jesus’s interactions with fishermen in the gospels while telling stories about her own life in Alaska. I’m excited to read this one by a fellow Redbud writer.

the year of smallthings: radical faith for the rest of us by Sarah Arthur and Erin F. Wasinger


Speaking of fellow Redbud writers . . . meet Sarah and Erin. I’m helping with their book launch in January, and am excited to read this book about living lives of radical faith. I’m sure you’ll hear more from me about this one soon. (Note: this comes out at the end of January, but you can preorder it now.)

Silence by Shusaku Endo


This book was required reading for my college freshman, and as she was reading it she kept telling me, “Mom, you have GOT to read this book. It’s amazing.” Since Martin Scorsese’s movie version of the book is just out, I feel like I need to read it soon. Bonus: it’s fiction!

So there you go—my year in books. Now I’d like to know . . . what were some of YOUR favorite reads from 2016? Go ahead and leave me a comment!

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Monday, October 31, 2016

I'm Guest Posting for Jen Michele this week!

Hi there! This week I'm guest posting over at Jen Michele's blog. If you haven't yet read Jen's book, Teach Us to Want, you really need to get it, read it, and soak it in. It was selected as the Christianity Today Book of the Year for 2015--need I say more?

Jen has a new book coming out next spring titled, Keeping Place: Reflections on the Meaning of Home. I'm honored to be sharing some thoughts on home with Jen's readers this week. Here's the beginning of my post, but click here to read the whole thing.

*****

2355 N. Higgins Road, Morris, IL
Tiny pink tulips arranged in rows, wound through with green ribbon. Repeat. And repeat. And repeat.
This was the pattern of the wallpaper in my bedroom of our hundred-year-old farmhouse. I memorized the pattern of that wallpaper, stared at it for countless hours as I tried to fall asleep to the sounds of crickets chirping and the breeze rustling through the tall tassels on the cornstalks just outside my window.
Growing up on a farm was a lonely experience for me. Even though I was an introverted bookworm, I always wanted neighbors. People whom I could greet on the street and who would keep watch over my house at night. I wanted to know what life was like beyond those cornfields for people who were different from me.
Besides the wallpaper, I often stared at the back of my bedroom door, which I had plastered with the names of places I had cut from the headlines of the Travel section in each Sunday’sChicago Tribune. There, in bold letters, I read and re-read the names of places I longed to see.
“ROME!”
“LONDON”
“The Swiss Alps”
“L.A.”
“Copenhagen is for Lovers!”
“BAVARIA”
The back of my door was covered with place names, dreams that would carry me through turbulent high school years.
*****
Read the rest of the post here at Jen Michele's place.

Thursday, October 13, 2016

When Your Post Goes Unexpectedly Viral

So it’s been an interesting week.

Earlier this week I noticed an uptick in subscribers to my blog. (Hi new followers! I’m happy you’re here!) I was thrilled, but I couldn’t figure out where these new subscribers were coming from, so I did a little bit of investigating.

If you could just picture me on a random Thursday morning, sitting at my kitchen table in my yoga pants and Cubs t-shirt, coffee cup in hand, opening my blog for the first time in, oh, a while. (Sorry, I’ve been writing a book so the blog has taken a back seat for this season.)

Imagine the little hiccup of surprise and then the groan that came from me as I realized that a long-forgotten blog post from 2011, a controversial one at that, had generated 174 new comments and well over a million (yes, with six zeroes!) views in the past couple of days.

(Let me just say right here that I am SO BUMMED that I never monetized my blog!)

Anyway, that post. If you’ve been around here since 2011, you may remember it. It was a post about modesty titled, “How Your DaughterDresses Matters.” Apparently the modesty issue is still around and still triggers a fair bit of emotion. To say the least.

So just this week, over a million people have read this five-year-old post and a few thought it necessary to get involved in the discussion. Except it wasn’t much of a discussion. It was a lot of name-calling and opinion-shouting directed at me and others.

Thankfully I have the power to turn off comments, which I did, and I also decided to pull the post for a while. I needed time to think and pray about this issue and decide what God would have me do next. And I needed to figure out how to respond.

As I’ve been pondering, two problems come to mind that I feel I should address.

First, let’s talk about modesty . . . again. Specifically, let’s talk about my post.

To those who called my misogynistic and who told me that I’m contributing to the rape culture in this country, I’d ask you to please read the post again, slowly this time. Because nothing in that post speaks of hating girls or women. Nothing. In fact, I am the most pro-women mother on the planet—I’ve raised three of the most intelligent, strong, independent women I know.

Furthermore, there is nothing in that post that calls out a certain style of clothing—that’s not a discussion I care to have. I’m not here to tell you WHAT your daughter should or should not wear—that’s a discussion parents and children need to have together. I also don’t believe you’re going to hell if you wear a bikini—I have no interest in that discussion either. I simply want you to think about what you wear or choose to let your daughter wear and WHY.

[Side note and gratuitous plug here: my book that is comingout next year is based on asking WHY. Any Christian parents who want to think deeply about instilling important spiritual values in your kids might want to keep your eye out for it next fall. *wink wink*]

But the second issue I want to address, and one that is much more troubling to me, is how the discourse in our country has denigrated. The comments I read this week were far worse than the comments of those from five years ago. People today seem to get upset so much more easily, blaming others and pointing fingers.

There’s not much room for conversation anymore.

For instance, many of the comments I received were along these lines: “Oh yeah? Well, when is someone going to start telling the boys how to act?” or “I should be able to dress however I want; boys just need to be taught to respect women.” Finger pointing and blaming.

The problem is, that’s not what this post was about! I could write a hundred posts on the problem with the way boys are not being taught to respect women in this country, but that’s not what THIS post was about.

See, here’s the problem that I see over and over again in our country and it’s why I want to get off of social media altogether some days. People default to knee-jerk reactions, immediately taking offence without regard to the writer’s intended audience, purpose, or context.

What results is what looks like the current political situation in our country. It’s not pretty.

Seems like everyone wants someone else to be responsible, to pay, to be culpable for their offenses. Our sense of justice is high, but our sense of responsibility is quite low. We want to blame, but we don’t want to take a good, hard look at how we are actually living our life that may contribute to a problem.

In my original post, I was not trying to place blame on anyone. I was simply writing as a mother of daughters to other mothers of daughters to challenge us to think deeply about being a little counter-cultural in this one area. That is all. I was not trying to address mothers of sons. I was not trying to point fingers. I just want us to think.

Culpability? When it comes to culpability I think we are ALL responsible for keeping girls safe, and this is one way, as a mom, I am simply trying to do that.

*****

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Friday, September 30, 2016

When You Need to Remember: Seasons Change, God Does Not



I’m sitting on my back porch as I write this, curled up in a blanket, listening to the sound of pouring rain. Why am I sitting on the porch in the rain, you ask? I’m actually trying to keep my sweet 11-year-old dog from freaking out because we’ve had workers in and out of our house all week, and she’s a little upset by all the sawing and hammering and banging and drilling.

The poor dog is just about at her wit’s end with all the noise! So today we’re trying to stay out of the house, and even though it’s chilly and rainy, the porch seems to be the best place to stay out of the way.

Fall is here, finally, ushered in this week with clouds and rain and chilly temps.

We actually saw fall make its appearance last Sunday night. B and I were driving over to our friends’ house for Bible study. It had been a hot, muggy day, as most of the days of August and September had been this year, yet as we drove west toward our friends’ house, we looked up and saw a great big, black cloud dividing the sky almost in half. It was the strangest sight.

But that line of solid black cloud brought a cold front that ushered in our MUCH cooler fall weather. As usual, fall arrived with a bang—hot one day, cold the next.

Seasons change quickly around here.

I don’t know about you, but the sudden onset of fall temperatures usually has me scrambling for jackets and jeans after a summer of shorts and t-shirts. And I was NEVER ready with my kids’ wardrobes! I remember many a fall day when my girls went to school completely underdressed because I hadn’t pulled out the sweaters or jackets yet.

I remember feeling like a total mom-failure on those days. “My child is going to freeze!” “How could I have been so unprepared?” “Where even IS that bin of winter clothes?”

All of these feelings of failure are, I think, completely normal for us as moms, yet, I want to tell you something: those feelings of failure are lies. God has perfectly equipped you to be your child’s mom. Oh sure, we make mistakes, we forget things—hey, we’re busy! But YOU are just what your child needs.

We may not be ready for the changes, but they sure don't take God by surprise.

So maybe pull out those fall clothes now—it’s getting chilly—but put away those feelings of failure because that’s not who you are. You were crafted and chosen by God to do this job in just this moment, and he will equip you to do it.

Seasons may change, but God does not.

It’s a lesson I’m trying to remind myself of right now. With small house changes and big weather changes and HUGE life changes, I’m reminding myself that God is right here, walking beside me, equipping me to do exactly what he’s called me to do.

In every season.

Thursday, September 8, 2016

I'm assembling a group of warriors


Can I just be vulnerable for a minute?

As thankful as I am to even be saying this, writing a book is probably one of the hardest things I’ve ever done in my life.

In fact, as much as I love doing it, writing just about anything is really hard for me.

This week I decided to skip ahead and write the chapter of my book that makes me feel the most vulnerable because it’s kind of what’s on my heart right now. I tried to get around it, but I found that I just had to share a part of my story that I’m hesitant to share. It’s difficult and sad, and I would never want anyone to feel sorry for me or misconstrue why I’m telling this story now.

I think Satan just plain doesn’t want us to share our most vulnerable stories.

Earlier this week I sent a guest post to a writer-friend whom I admire so much, pinching myself that she even asked me to write something for her. I liked my post well enough, so I sent it off to her, but later that day I went back to read it again (“What did I send her??”) and found several sentences that I would have polished, changed, improved, if I hadn’t sent it quite yet.

I think Satan loves to have us second-guess ourselves.

This week I had a dream that has haunted me. This doesn’t happen often—I’m generally a sound sleeper—so when I remember a dream I have to take stock because it probably means something. In my dream I had gone back to teaching, and it was the first week of classes. I was excited to get to know my new students and to dive into the reading. The problem was, I hadn’t prepared and the first week was HORRIBLE.

I knew it, too. I hadn’t given my students any homework and, worse yet, I hadn’t had them write anything. Duh! It was a writing class!

In my dream (and even after I woke up), I felt like a failure. I felt like I wasn’t good enough, smart enough, prepared enough to teach a class I’d taught fifteen times before. I HATE not feeling good enough, smart enough, or prepared enough. It’s a pride thing I have, I know, but it eats at my very core.

And I’m pretty sure it doesn’t take a psychologist to tell me that I’m having some anxiety about writing this book. I’m worried that someone will read it and hate it or not think I’m smart or will tell me my theology is weak.

I think Satan loves to attack our weaknesses and make us think we’re not enough.

Yesterday I sat down to write and ended up staring at the screen for the better part of an hour, resulting in less than 100 words. (My goal was 1,000.) So I decided that the best thing I could do was simply put the writing aside for a while and work on changing sheets on all the beds in my house and sorting the mountain of the laundry that had collected in my bathroom. Those simple tasks sometimes clear my head, but I found myself angry and frustrated at my lack of discipline.

I think Satan likes to distract us.

You know what I think? I think I must be on to something if I’m feeling attacked in this way. I think I must keep listening to and following the Lord’s call, the job he’s given me to do, just to prove the enemy wrong.

And here’s what I know. I know that God never calls us to something without equipping us to do the job. Sometimes, though, he provides friends to come alongside to help encourage us in the work.

Joshua had Caleb.

David had Jonathan.

Mary had Elizabeth.

Paul had Timothy.

There’s a little story that I love in the book of Judges that perfectly illustrates this. Gideon was a leader and a warrior whom God had called to defeat the Midianites, but God did not want the army to defeat them in their own strength, so he whittled down Gideon’s army from 32,000 warriors to a mere 300. There was no way this measly bunch of fighters could defeat a cruel and powerful enemy.

But God.

So this rag-tag group set up camp and was ready to go in and defeat the Midianites, but the night before the attack, God visits Gideon and tells him this:

“Get up! God down into the Midianite camp, for I have given you victory over them! But if you are afraid to attack, go down to the camp with your servant Purah. Listen to what the Midianites are saying, and you will be greatly encouraged. Then you will be eager to attack.” (Judges 7:9-10)

Do you see what’s happening? God is giving Gideon an impossible task, to fight the enemy, and then tells him to go spy on their army the night before the attack.

But in the kind and gracious way that only God could do, he recognizes Gideon’s fear and tells him to take his servant with him. “But if you are afraid to attack, go down to the camp with your servant Purah.”

Throughout the Bible, God provides people to come alongside those he has called to serve him. He always equips, and sometimes he uses others to help.

I feel like I need to assemble a team of prayer warriors to come alongside me in this writing journey. If you are one who would commit to praying for me over the course of the next few weeks while I write this book, would you leave a comment with your email address today? I will then email you every Friday to let you know how my writing week went and what you can be praying for in the week ahead.

This is so humbling for me to even ask, and please do not respond if you’re not sure you can pray me through this. I won’t hold it against you! I just need a few people to sneak into the enemy camp with me and defeat him.

“The LORD is a warrior; Yahweh is his name!” (Ex. 15:3)

Monday, September 5, 2016

End of Summer Wrap-Up

Hi Friends!

I've written here exactly five times this summer. Five! That must be some kind of worst-ever record for me. But it isn't because I haven't been writing--I have. Just not here.

I thought I'd take a few minutes to catch up today since I haven't been around much lately. Our summer was great, and even though I haven't documented much of it, I've enjoyed every minute. We started out with a fun celebration of Julia's graduation from high school (lots of family came--the best!) and took a fabulous vacation to Kiawah Island, SC as a family. Both took place early in the summer, and for the rest of it, we were mostly home except for a quick trip to Dallas for the Declare Conference and a very special wedding of a very special couple whom B and I have mentored for the past six years.

The rest of the summer was spent getting ready. For what? For change. My heart doesn't do well with change, yet I knew that August would be a month full of it, so I needed some space this summer to process all that would be happening over past few weeks.

First, Julia officially left for college in early August. School didn't start until much later, but she took part in a wilderness program that her school offered prior to orientation. Poor girl (I say this entirely tongue in cheek) spent 10 days sea kayaking around the Apostle Islands in Lake Superior, which is supposed to be one of the best adventure trips in the United States. Who knew?! Anyway, she had an amazing time getting to know a small group of girls from her freshman class.


And now she's all settled in at college, loving life in her dorm, and trying new experiences like playing ultimate frisbee. Again, who knew?!


Two days after Parents' Orientation, I loaded up my car and helped Caroline move 800 miles from home for a graduate program in physical therapy. I spent about four days helping her get settled, exploring her new part of the country, and dreading the moment I would have to pull away from her apartment. But I did it. I actually managed to turn my car in the right direction, head down the highway, and drive home . . . without my middle daughter.


But you know what? I'm thrilled for her. She is in the absolutely right place for her--God has confirmed it over and over again--so how can I be sad? It's just that nagging old change thing.

In the midst of all of this, we helped Kate move into a new apartment in a new part of the city. She's so happy with her new digs, and soon I'm sure I'll be called upon for painting duty. All good.

We've had a fair amount of company this summer, too, which I love. Hopefully in this new season we'll have more opportunities to open our doors to those who need a place to rest. God has given us this home for a purpose, we believe, and its up to us to use it for His glory. Come visit us!

So now things have settled down a bit. In fact, this is the first weekend that B and I have spent alone in our home. To be honest, it's crazy-quiet -- much too quiet for our liking -- but we're trying to figure it out. Going for long walks, enjoying meals out, and taking bike rides seem to help pass the time. And our fall is looking so busy that we won't have time to be bored. It's just that the transition is . . . well . . . strange.


Yesterday at church we sat down and realized that everyone around us was an empty nester. A couple of people asked us how things were going so far, and I had to fight back tears for the fourth Sunday in a row. For years now I've had at least one child sitting next to me in church, and now, for the first time, I'm faced with the reality that this won't happen for a while. All of these changes are good and necessary, and I wouldn't have life played out any other way, but that doesn't make it any easier.

Everyone says it gets better, this empty nest thing. I'm going to take them at their word and start living life as if it already is better. I'm going to take a couple of trips this fall. I'm going to tell myself that this isn't forever--at least one child may be home next summer, and there are always breaks. I'm going to remember God's faithfulness to our family.

In the meantime, I'm already starting to plan my Thanksgiving menu. The girls will be home!


Tuesday, July 19, 2016

Letter to My Daughters :: About the –isms



Dear Daughters,

Racism.

Feminism.

Terrorism.

The –isms. Words that have become part of our everyday language. Issues that scream for our attention, our compassion, our consideration. Issues different from one another, but important just the same.

And that’s not to mention so many others we talk about.

Atheism.

Capitalism.

Socialism.

Ageism. (I’m kinda sensitive to this one.)

A quick online search for a “list of isms” will produce over 200 words that have become their own distinct belief systems. But, more than that, they are ways of categorizing people or keeping them apart from one another. Worse yet, they become ways of discriminating against people who aren’t like us.

Today’s –isms have created an “us against them” world, and these ways of defining people confront us every day, pointing out differences, promoting hate.

In just the past two weeks we have seen racial violence of the highest order and a terrorist attack like none other. Not to mention that the country of Turkey (and how many others?) is in upheaval.

It leaves us wondering, “How much more can we take?”

I mean that quite literally. When we are bombarded every single day by news of one terrible occurrence after another, all of which we are told to care deeply about, I think we start to wonder how to do that.

How do we stay emotionally engaged with our world when there is so much violence and destruction calling for our attention? How do we love in a world so divided by -isms? We just want a little peace already!

Girls, I want you to know something in order to both guard against it and to deal with it when it happens to you. Compassion fatigue is a real thing.

Sometimes, in response to all of the tragedy around us, we lose our capacity to care. We act indifferent. We may even shut down.

It’s not that we don’t care, it’s that we simply cannot.

So let’s say you have a family—you will probably spend the bulk of your emotional energy caring for the people under your roof. That’s as it should be. And then, say, a family member gets sick or you have some big decisions to make about work. More emotional energy used up.

But that’s not all. You have close friends with needs that you should also rightly care about. And a church family full of hurting people who need your attention. The circle of care widens, stretching its boundaries until you think it may burst.

Maybe your community is affected by racial violence, like many in our country did last week. You hurt some more. And then you look around and see that the world is falling apart and protests occur loud and strong, and you realize that there is just so much to care about until your emotional energy is spent.

Our bodies and our minds weren’t made to handle this much sadness. We may even watch the news and feel despair or fear about the days ahead.

My darling daughters, here’s what I want say: Do not give in to despair. Do not fear. (How many times does Jesus tell us not to fear? A LOT!) And do not give in to compassion fatigue.

God, in his wisdom, has given us just what we need to combat the fears and stresses of the world we live in. That’s the great thing about the Bible—it’s timeless. It always speaks to where we are today.

Just last week I read this verse: “In this world you will have trouble; but take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

Do you know how comforting that is to me? When I worry about your futures or the futures of the grandchildren I may someday have, when I think about the tragic occurrences of the past two weeks, I can remember that Jesus has it covered. He came to overcome the world and all its trials and tribulations.

He knew there would be terrorism. He knew about racism. He knew that hard days would come, but he’s got it covered already because of his death on the cross.

Here’s what I also want you to know: God does not want us to give up on compassion, but he understands compassion fatigue. Even Jesus had to pull away for a while, to get away from the crowds to pray.

So how should we handle the –isms calling for our attention these days? How do we handle compassion fatigue? I have a few ideas (you knew I would!).

Michah 6:8 says, “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God.”

1. Pray. We cannot know God’s will for us if we’re not talking to him about it, so pray that God would show you the –isms that he has placed on your heart. We can’t do everything, but we can do something right where we are, so pray for compassion for the issues God has equipped you to care for. And don’t worry about the rest—that’s why there is a huge world with people who care for different things.

2. Continue to seek justice in your everyday life. Again, we cannot solve every problem or fix every person, but we can be people of integrity who watch out for others. This doesn’t mean that you have to stand in on a protest. It simply means that whatever you can do to seek justice, do it. Refuse to overlook injustice when you see it.

3. Be kind. Oh, how our world needs a little more kindness. And it can start with you. Forget cynicism (another –ism!). Forget backstabbing gossip. Forget lying. And just be nice.

4. Walk humbly. Learn from others as you learn from God. Listen well. Love well. Take your eyes off of yourself and make those around you feel like they are the most important people in the room. Pray for humility.

These are the things God requires of us. Nothing more; nothing less.

Girls, as you go out into the world each day, don’t be overwhelmed by the trials. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, seeking God’s will for your life, following his call, and the rest will take care of itself.

He is with you always. Even until the end of the age.

I love you so.


Mom

Thursday, July 14, 2016

But God . . . {A fun, exciting, crazy announcement!}



Sometimes you wait for something for such a long time that you think it may never happen.

Sometimes you hope and dream for so long that you almost decide to give up.

Sometimes you wonder if your dreams are just crazy or that you’re not up to the dream after all or that you’re getting too old to actually accomplish it.

Sometimes you doubt. A lot.

But then God does something so entirely unexpected that you just have to believe He was in it all along, just waiting to gift you with your dream when the timing was just right.

That’s my story these days.

After years of trying, discouragement, rejection, discouragement, hope, and more discouragement, I was ready to quit my dream. I regularly told myself, “I’m not really a writer” or “I’m too old for this” or “Nobody wants to hear what I have to say anyway.”

(Lies! All lies, by the way.)

But God.

He planted the dream many years ago, and he had a crazy plan all along. How he chose to unfold that plan is crazy in itself!

Last spring I went to a writer’s conference—one I had attended several times in the past—where I taught a class on writing prompts. But this year I decided to get a little bit brave and submit my book proposal to editors before I left. There’s a service for this kind of thing at this conference. If an editor sees your proposal and likes it, they can contact you to set up an appointment during the conference.

And that’s what happened. Two editors contacted me and wanted to talk about my idea.

Turns out that they both liked my proposal and wanted to take it further on down the publishing road. Now, what you have to know is that this road is very long and winding and sometimes comes with road blocks and detours, often with no communication at all. You just have to wait until the traffic clears and more people see your proposal and give you a green light.

Or reject you. Which is what happened to me on the Wednesday of our beach vacation back in June.

There I was, sitting on the beach, enjoying some precious time away with my family, when I stupidly checked email to find a rejection letter from one of the publishers I had spoken to back in April. (There’s a lesson here: don’t check email from the beach!)

Tears ran down my face from behind my sunglasses, and I broke the news to my family later that evening.

I was pretty sad. Not necessarily surprised (I have had plenty of rejections in the past), but sad. And questioning whether I should keep writing or just hang it up.

I’m not sure what I did the next day—I think I took a long bike ride or something—but I know I had a heavy heart hangover that morning. I couldn’t face social media, so I just stayed away from my computer until around lunchtime when I quickly checked email.

Remember how I said I had talked to two editors? I hadn’t heard much of anything from the second one, and I had kind of written them off too. I figured I’d get in touch with them after vacation, but again, I didn’t have much hope.

But on Thursday of vacation, the day after my rejection, there was an email from the editor of the second publisher telling me that they were going to be looking at my proposal THAT DAY and he’d be in touch the following day to let me know the outcome. I kind of laughed at the timing, then prayed hard and asked my family to pray as well.

And then we went to the beach.

Later that night I checked email again to find a note from the publisher telling me that they liked my proposal and, get this, THEY WANTED TO PUBLISH MY BOOK!

You guys, that was 24 hours after the rejection. Twenty-four hours!!!

To say my head was spinning would be an utter downplay of how I was feeling. How on earth could I go from such a low point the day before to finding out that I was going to receive a contract? It still feels surreal to me.

But God.

Here’s what I know. There is no way any of this was a coincidence. God knew all along that I was going to get rejected, but He arranged it so that I was on vacation with my family. No better people to get rejected with!

Not only that, but he also arranged for the second publisher to look at my proposal the very next day. How crazy is that?! VERY CRAZY!

And that is how I know that God has said, “OK, Shelly, the timing is just right for you to pursue this dream.”

You see, for so many years the dream of writing a book has been stirring in my heart, but the timing hasn’t been just right. I loved being a mom to my kids (I still do!) and wanted to be here for them while they were here at home. I also loved being a professor and a mentor to students.

But my youngest is off to college soon (!) and my nest will be empty in the fall. I stopped teaching a year ago, so I have time to write now (as long as I can discipline myself to actually do it!).  The timing, for me, is just right.

And the book? I’m excited to tell you that it’s a book about parenting with purpose and intentionality. It’s about asking why we do what we do to instill spiritual and family values into our kids instead of asking how.

Because I firmly believe that if we start by asking why, the how will follow. 

I hope you’ll join me on this journey by praying for me as you think of it. I’m sure I’ll be sharing more as time goes on, but today, I just want you to laugh along with me at the timing and the goodness of God.

*****

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