So then, just as you have received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness. – Colossians 2:6,7

Last Friday high winds tore through our area, toppling large trees, which tore down power lines affecting nearly 400,000 people. We were without electricity for four days, although I was grateful we had water, some heat from a gas fireplace, and a functioning gas stove.

Thankfully, our daughter Joanna’s family did not lose power. I say, “Thankfully,” because Saturday night she was throwing a big party for my 70th birthday. That day, as she was busily cleaning the house and telling the kids to stay out of her way and not undo all her work, I sheepishly asked if I could shower there, as our water heater is electric. (I’m not a fan of cold showers.) She said, “Sure.”

Assuming I had the same instructions as my grandchildren, I tried to contain my presence to the bathroom. I say “tried,” because it didn’t quite work out that way…

Joanna has one of those versatile showerheads I love that’s on the end of a hose. I realized, though, that I should have at least glanced at it before turning on the shower, as water immediately came spewing out all over the bathroom floor. I reached for the showerhead to aim it back into the stall, at which point it popped off the holder and fell onto the tiles of the stall (The hose was, of course, just long enough to reach the floor.), where it bounced, landed in the middle of the bathroom, and separated itself from the hose. (Uh-oh…)

I was busy grabbing towels to soak up the puddle, fearing my darling daughter would start seeing water dripping from the ceiling. (That wouldn’t add to the stress, would it?) I didn’t notice until I tried to reconnect the showerhead to the hose, that said showerhead was broken.

My first instinct, as always, was to call for my husband Marty, handyman extraordinaire, to come to my rescue. My phone, however, was downstairs, where my busy daughter was preparing for my party. I didn’t want to stress her out by letting her know there was a problem until it was at least on its way to being fixed. I called (yelled) for my granddaughter and asked her to please bring me my purse. She complied immediately. (I love that kid.) I tried to text my husband but got a cheery “Text not sent. Tap to try again.” Realizing I had no cell connection, like the dignified 70-year-old, I checked to make sure no one was upstairs, then tiptoed from one room to another, wrapped in a bath towel, desperately trying to get a signal.

Marty finally got a couple of my frantic texts and realized I had a problem and needed him to come “Fix it!” I got two texts from him: “Do you need me to come over?” and, answering his own question, “Yes.”

“What Are the Chances?!”

It just so happened that my other daughter, Kelly, had come up from Tennessee for the occasion, and had already given me my birthday presents: A bottle of perfume … and a new shower head! She and Marty had already installed it, and that next morning as my hero flew to my rescue, he brough the old one with him, just in case.

All’s Well that Ends Well

The happy ending of this story is that (1.) the old showerhead was a standard size and fit perfectly, and (2.) when we came downstairs, far from being stressed out, Joanna was laughing.

It turned out she already knew something was going on. While I was tiptoeing around upstairs, stepping over toys and clothes in the kids’ rooms, trying to find a cell signal, Joanna’s husband, who knew I was (allegedly) showering, had asked her to go upstairs and get the car keys off the bathroom sink. She had tapped on the door and, not getting an answer, opened it to see water and towels on the floor with a broken showerhead in the middle of them. She had merely thought, I don’t wanna know, grabbed the keys, and gone back to work.

I look back on that series of “crises” and smile. I can see where I have grown, probably very gradually, as I have faced the unexpected events of my life, large and small. Twenty years ago, something like the shower crisis would have thrown me into a full-blown panic attack, extreme irritation (rage), and/or a bad mood affecting my attitude for the rest of what was supposed to be a very special day. As it was, besides the annoyance of not being able to reach Marty right away, I was aware even at the time that the whole thing resembled a sit-com; no one was going to die, and God was probably up to something I didn’t yet comprehend. Relieved to see Joanna laughing (far more mature than I was at her age), I felt free to laugh, too.

I enjoyed telling the crazy story to my friends at the party. It was fun seeing their expressions go from Oops, to Oh no! to OH NO! to amazement at the “coincidence,” to laughing with me at … was it “Murphy’s Law,” or “God’s got this!” ?

I am acutely aware that there are believers suffering in unimaginable ways, and as far as trials, tribulations, and persecutions, I know little or nothing. But in learning to trust the Lord in these smaller things, I truly hope I am being trained to trust Him in the bigger things later on. I should not expect to bravely die a martyr’s death someday, if I’m losing my temper at minor annoyances that come up on a daily basis.

(Baby steps.)

Prayer: Lord, we like to think our faith is strong. We trust You to sustain us through the great hardships that are ahead. Help us practice that faith in the smaller things that come up today and not be so set in our own agendas that we lose sight of You the moment something goes “wrong.” We want to trust You in those things, too! In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“Therefore keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.” – Matthew 25:13

Those of you who follow this blog are probably aware that I just turned seventy. Friends may joke about being “over the hill,” but being over the hill isn’t so bad. Consider this: When you come up over the hill, the view suddenly changes. You see things you’ve never never seen before. (“Divine perspective”?)

Seventy seemed so old when I was in my 20’s and 30’s. I remember the eve of my 40th birthday, lying awake with the sobering realization that I was getting older and there was nothing I could do to stop it! Before I knew it, it was my 50th, and I started understanding the saying, “Life is like a roll of toilet paper; the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.”

Sixty came, and I was encouraged by the news that according to a recent poll, the 60’s were the happiest decade of life, followed by the 70’s as the second happiest!

And here I am.

When I was younger, this thought of the relentless passing of time frightened me, but as I’ve matured and my faith has been strengthened, I am comforted to know that I am ten years closer to heaven than I was on my 60th birthday, and way closer than I was on my 40th! This is all simple math, I know, but as I give my attitude over to the Lord, He changes fear into serenity, and a crabby old lady into a contented soul.

On days when I see the world careening toward destruction, I start thinking I don’t want to be here when the “bovine poo” (as fellow blogger “Insanity Bytes” would say) hits the fan. That cowardly attitude is totally selfish, of course. The darker it gets, the more we’re needed to be the “light of the world.” As the “salt of the earth,” we’re needed to slow down the decay of civilization long enough to share the Truth with whoever will receive it. (Matthew 5:13-16) And I plan to do that until I take my last breath.

Still, the thought that I was in the home stretch (Psalm 90:10) was exhilarating at times. It was, that is, until Greg, a young man at our church, announced that his grandmother had passed at the age of 104. My first selfish thought was, Good grief, you mean I could be here another 34 years?! Greg shared that she had been faithfully serving the Lord to the very end, turning my mind back to a recent theme of my prayers:

Finishing well.

I have witnessed people close to me and people in the public eye running with God with enviable zeal for a period of time, only to fizzle out or crash in flames. Some have publicly proclaimed that they no longer believe in Jesus, while others merely show by the way they live their lives that He’s no longer important to them. One reason I find myself wanting to “go home” soon is that I do not want to be one of those people! I don’t want my flame to burn out or be snuffed out before its time. Lord, help me to finish well!

Sunday night Greg gave the devotional message at our church, and it proved very timely for me. It was about the parable of the wise and foolish virgins (bridesmaids) waiting for the arrival of the bridegroom.

In those days the bridegroom went to prepare a home for his bride, and when it was ready, he would return for her. The bridesmaids were to greet the returning bridegroom with their lamps, lighting the way to the wedding feast.

In this parable, five of the bridesmaids were wise, and five were foolish. The bridegroom was delayed, and as they were waiting, the lamps of the foolish ones burned out. Panicked, they begged for more oil from the wise ones, who had brought extra, but were told there may not be enough for all of them. While the foolish bridesmaids were out buying more oil, the bridegroom came. And by the time they returned, the banquet had started, and they were locked out.

This parable illustrates the importance of being ready when Jesus, the Bridegroom, returns for His bride (the Church); no one knows the day or the hour.

In most messages on this topic we are admonished, “Be prepared! He may come today!” But rarely do we hear, “Be prepared! It could be a long time.”

In other words, Be ready and stay ready.

Being a Christ-follower isn’t a walk down the aisle, a baptism, and you’re all set. Jesus’s admonition to “count the cost,” as well as this parable of the wise and foolish maidens, is telling us we’re in it for the long haul. Following Him isn’t a sprint followed by coasting; there is no “coasting.” The current of this fallen world is flowing in the direction of evil. If we stop swimming against it, we won’t stand still, we will be swept away. Our relationship with Jesus should never be neglected or taken for granted. Staying connected with Him is the only thing that can get us through this life uncorrupted.

When Jesus returns, He will be met with two responses: Some will be overjoyed at His coming, but many will be appalled, ashamed, and terrified. There may be those who have served Him halfheartedly or not at all since placing their trust in Him as Savior, and it’s not up to me to judge their hearts or whether or not they’ll be locked out of heaven. But I know I don’t want to be one of them. Jesus gave everything for me, how could I give Him less than all of me?

So, whether I live the seventy years described in Scripture or I last as long as Greg’s grandmother, I want to keep the Lord’s light burning brightly in my heart every day.

I want to finish well.

Prayer: Lord Jesus, my life is in Your hands, and I trust You with it, whether it’s for another day or another thirty years. Take me and use me however You desire, until I see You face to face. In Jesus’ name, amen.

One of my first blog posts shared my thoughts “On Turning 65.” It’s hard to believe I am now staring down the barrel (JK) of my 70th birthday! In honor of the occasion, I have these additional thoughts and memories to share:

Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life. Proverbs 16:31

My high school class had their big reunion last May. It had originally been planned as our 50th in 2021, but because of world-wide “complications” (‘nough said), it turned into our 51st.

We gals are pushing 70 by now, so it should have been no surprise that the vast majority have long given up on the hair coloring thing. As I walked into a room full of silver and white, I realized I was one of the few holdouts. By the end of the weekend, I had decided to ditch the denial and, as another famous white-haired character has sung, “LET IT GO!” I had already tried using a lighter shade each time I colored my hair, but it had only succeeded in taking it from dark brunette to a dingy, mousy brown. So, while some of my friends refer to the graying transition as a “journey,” I decided I didn’t have the time or patience for a “journey,” I’d just leap into the time machine and “git ‘er done.” I had a friend who was skilled in this kind of transformation, and couple of radical highlighting sessions later, I look more my age.

Or less like someone my age desperately trying to look 20 again. (*eye roll*) This was a huge step in my quest for “divine perspective.”

I grew up with an older sister who excelled in sports and possessed a lot more confidence than I had. Many a conversation with peers began with the question, “So, how’s your sister?” (“Fine.” And I’m fine, too, thanks for asking.)

But when I turned fourteen and was on a trip to Europe with my parents (and no sister), out of my usual environment I began to notice male heads turning and giving approving looks in my direction. I realized then that I might have a certain asset that the world values highly, although even at that age I knew it was the shallowest of qualities.

Beauty has its disadvantages, especially if one is prone to laziness. It’s easy to persuade oneself that attraction equals respect. Although I married young, I found that being “cute” could still open doors and how much men would do for a smile. As for younger men, I found it adorable when one of my students had a “crush” on the teacher, even as I pretended not to notice.

I don’t remember if I was in my 40’s or 50’s, but there came a day when I looked in the mirror and realized some things had gradually changed over time. I thought, Dang. I’m going to have to come up with a personality….

All my life I had known, deep down, that looks don’t matter to God. (“Man looks on the outside, but God looks at the heart.”) I liked to think I was always kind to the less attractive, patient with the elderly, and compassionate towards the disabled. I had spent time in the hospitals and nursing homes, ministering with my music. But now the thought of actually being one of them … I was going to have to get used to this.

I had several epiphanies as I grew older. One was the classic experience shared by many moms – being out with my daughter, having the nostalgic experience of having heads turn, then realizing those smiles were directed at my beautiful daughter, not her mom.

A more encouraging epiphany was learning that I was a favorite teacher in the high school, because “she’s fun,” “she’s funny,” “she tells good stories,” and other reasons having nothing to do with “pretty.”

Probably the most edifying sign that I was changing in the right direction, was when one of my pastors quoted me in his sermon and elaborated on the (apparently) profound thing I had said. Later on in the same sermon, he alluded to something else I had said! With a thrill I realized the Lord was transforming me. While I had been someone worth looking at, now I was becoming someone worth listening to! And I know – I have always known – that this is a step up. How many times did I try as a baby Christian to “witness” to an attentive young man, and having shared the most profound truths with him, realized he hadn’t heard a word I’d said?

So, the “journey” of my first seventy years hasn’t been from one “look” to another, but from the immature embracing of the superficial and fleeting to the deeper, the eternal. I’ve known all my life that this body is going to die and decay. How much of my life has been a frantic race trying to postpone the inevitable, slowing down the process for as long as possible? But what has made my life worth something were the hours I’ve spent pursuing God – running after Him, seeking His wisdom, which the wise Solomon declared was more valuable than gold … or rubies … or some sparkly thing… You get the point.

I know the Lord promised us we would have new bodies someday – perfect bodies that would never wear out or die. The longer I live, the more I look forward to that day.

At the same time, I don’t believe there will be mirrors in heaven. Sure, if we look at one another, in our resurrected bodies, we might be dazzled by our beautiful, yet recognizable loved ones. But we won’t care what we look like. We’ll scarcely be conscious of ourselves at all.

Our focus will be on Jesus.

Prayer: Lord, we rejoice in the life You’ve given us, even as we realize its brevity. Our fragile bodies are wearing out even as we speak. And so, we thank You even more for the promise of new birth, new life, new bodies to live in as we share eternity with You, giving You all the glory. In Jesus’ name and by the power of His blood, amen.

So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor. For we are God’s fellow workers. – I Corinthians 3:7-9a

My friend “C” had been experiencing what began as a nightmare that threatened to kill her faith. Falsely accused and sentenced to four months in jail, C had seen every prayer answered with a resounding “NO.” But the Lord was holding onto her through the whole ordeal, and as she clung to Him, she began to see His hand working through her in the lives of the people around her. I was privileged to have a part in the plan, as C led a small group study on prayer, using my book BARRIERS (So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?).

In case you missed the beginning of her story, here are the first four episodes:

When God Says “No” … Again Part I: The Nightmare

When God Says “No” … Again Part 2: Eggs, Carrots, and Coffee Beans

When God Says “No” … Again Part 3: Tilling the Soil

When God Says “No” … Again Part 4: Sowing Seeds

C continued leading the small group study until her (early!) release, and happily, one of her “girls,” “D” was released soon after.

D had made a commitment Christ during her incarceration and was experiencing a brand-new life. Now drug-free, she was off the street and living with two other women, one a fellow believer. She landed a job – her best paying ever. She reconciled with her children after years of alienation. And she joined a church, which, due to a fire, was having services in a tent at the time. D faithfully came early to every service to help set up and stayed late to help take down.

And D wanted to be baptized. Since the town was located on one of the Great Lakes, it only made sense to have the late summer baptism on the beach. I was about four hours away, and there was talk of my coming for the baptism and meeting her. I thought it would be great fun to surprise D. But when it was said that as the author of BARRIERS I was somewhat “on a pedestal” in the eyes of the women in the jail, the notion raised a red flag for me. Meeting me was not what the coming event was about! Baptism is all about Jesus, period. C and I may have planted and watered, but the Lord was the One who had opened D’s heart, drawn her to Himself, and given her new life.

So, I suggested to C that maybe I could meet D sometime in the future. As I requested, C sent me pictures of the baptism, where it was easy to spot D; she was the one whose face was radiant!

I hope that someday I can go back to my old stomping ground and get together with C, my friend Kelly, who had introduced us, D, who was brought to faith through the circumstances the Lord brought about (or allowed), and maybe even C’s other friend, “R,” who has kept in touch with C and was just released at Christmastime. – Glory!

Maybe I’ll also pay a visit to the women’s section of the county jail, where there are still about a dozen copies of my guide to biblical prayer circulating. (Bible study, anyone?)

In closing, here’s a flashback that may give some encouragement to aspiring authors:

Years ago, I attended a writing and speaking conference, where part of the program was a sort of editorial “speed-dating.” Small tables were set up where writers had the opportunity to meet one-on-one with agents and editors from major publishing companies. We had fifteen minutes to make our pitch before moving on to the next publishing big shot. I had copies of my newly printed book, BARRIERS, to give to any rep who showed an interest.

As I proudly showed my “baby” to one editor, she took one look at the cover and rendered her judgment.

“We would never publish that.”

A bit taken aback, I asked why.

“The title. The cover. It’s too negative.” BARRIERS has the subtitle, “So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?” The background is a brick wall and barbed wire.

I turned the book over to show the woman the back cover design – the brick wall knocked down and Jesus’ nail-pierced hands reaching through the rubble.

“Doesn’t matter,” she informed me. “We don’t publish anything with ‘don’t,’ ‘can’t,’ or ‘won’t’ in the title.” Then she opened the book anyway and looked at the table of contents. Chapters had titles like “Barrier #3: Wrong Motives” and “Barrier #5: Wrong Priorities.” She made a sour face. “People don’t want to know what they’re doing wrong,” she said as she slid the book back across the table.

If you’re a writer, you’ve probably been there at one time or another. I was deflated.

Now I look back on that episode and smile. If I hadn’t been forced to be my own publisher, I couldn’t have sent so many (signed) books to the jail so quickly. And while it’s true that a book with a sunrise on the cover and a title like My Utmost for His Highest might be wildly successful with a much broader audience, would such a book on the book cart at a jail be snatched up by women who have hit rock bottom? I can imagine my reaction would be, That’s all I need, another book to remind me what a failure I am. But a book with a snarky title and a brick wall and barbed wire – that I could relate to! (I always told my speech students, “Consider your audience.”)

So, that’s the “divine perspective” I’ve arrived at while relating this story. The Lord not only has a plan for my writing, but He’s setting up scenarios long before they’re even on my radar.

So, whenever I’m disappointed, I just need to remind myself, God’s up to something. Just trust Him and wait.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for all you do for and through us – the times we’re exhilarated with the sense of Your moving in us, and the times we’re not at all happy with what’s happening, but You bring about good anyway. Help us to trust You always, in pleasant times and unpleasant. In Jesus’ name, amen.

.

[Jesus said] “Listen! A farmer went out to sow his seed. As he was scattering the seed, some fell along the path, and the birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky places, where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered, because they had no root. Other seed fell among thorns, which grew up and choked the plants, so they did not bear grain. Still other seed fell on good soil. It came up, grew and produced a crop, multiplying thirty, sixty, even a hundred times.” – Mark 4:3-8

After two tries, I had finally got copies of my book, BARRIERS (So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?), to my friend “C” and her cellmates. A “mix-up” with the first shipment had resulted in several other copies circulating through the jail.

If you missed the beginning of this saga, here are the links to catch you up:

When God Says “No” … Again Part I: The Nightmare

When God Says “No” … Again Part 2: Eggs, Carrots, and Coffee Beans

When God Says “No” … Again Part 3: Tilling the Soil

It was evident from her letters that C’s faith was making a comeback. Instead of continuing to ask why God had abandoned her, she was now focused on others. She was even looking at what appeared to be setbacks as “God’s-got-a-better-idea” scenarios, trusting that He was in control and can be trusted. She wrote in one letter:

“Girls began taking [the books] to “plant” them on other people to get them in trouble, so I figure maybe they will read them. Maybe they need them more right now.“

Instead of being frustrated at the mix-up with the books and the delay for her and her friends, C was reasoning that the questionable motives of the women who had snatched the books up weren’t anything God couldn’t work around. While inmates were trying to get their rivals caught with too many books in their possession, who would have stopped to consider that God could pick which books and use them for His purpose?

I continued to write to C, including questions from the BARRIERS study guide to use in her discussions with the others in her pod. However, things didn’t go exactly as I had envisioned, as C’s third letter told me.

We had a few of our girls moved out of our unit and new women moved in. They are NOT interested in learning or studying God’s Word. One actually keeps calling me and one other girl “Bible Thumpers.” She needs extra prayer. 🙂 (She also kills cats for a passtime, so maybe a lot of extra prayer.“)

I honestly was disappointed that some of the original “girls” who had wanted to study prayer had been moved out. I confess I saw that as a setback, but I was encouraged to see that C’s response to it was, Just pray more.

That same letter closed with something else that encouraged me, both as an author and someone who had been praying for the situation from the beginning.

“Thank you for being there for me as well as the rest of the women in our unit and pod. We are really enjoying your book and have heard others who are reading it on their own tell me that they really enjoyed it as well and it helped to put things in perspective.”

“Perspective”! – YYYESSSS!!! – Divine perspective!

Maybe the women who had “planted” the books had been planting more than they realized! And maybe the interested ones who had been moved out of C’s pod were reading it on their own and sharing some of the content and related Scriptures with others. (I smile as I envision seeds of God’s Word, being carried on the wind of the Holy Spirit to “whosoever.”)

I continued writing C and enclosing study questions, which she was using to teach anyone within reach and interested.

C’s next letter had more encouraging news! (Ironic, isn’t it, that I was at our beautiful family summer home by the lake, receiving encouragement from a woman falsely accused and jailed for the summer!)

“One of my fellow “podmates” has really gone so far these last few weeks. Her excitement over everything she reads has helped me to be excited again. I want to be just as excited as the first time I read it. (I hope you understand where I’m coming from with that.)

Yes, C, I do. There’s something uniquely inspiring about a “baby believer” discovering the grace of God, the power of prayer, the victory of light over darkness – the Abundant Life! – for the first time.

“Now on to my little secret … 🙂

“I’m going home! After I served 70% of my time I could apply for a timecut. My lawyer said I had a 5-10% chance of getting it but I got it! So instead of going home August 22 I am going home July 28! My mom, 1 sister, and [“T”] are the only ones who know so shh… 🙂 Praise God!“

I scrambled to send C one last batch of study questions for whatever lessons she had time to share. I felt so honored to be in on her “little secret,” which, of course, was huge for her. I also chuckled, thinking that, whatever the enemy had planned to do to C through all this, it had clearly backfired, and he was canceling the mission!

Prayer: Lord, whatever the enemy of our souls has planned, You always have a better plan that trumps his. Knowing this, how could we ever get discouraged? But we do, and yet You are patient with us and delight to draw us back to faith as we watch Your plans unfold and marvel at Your grace. Thanks for what You did last summer in that jail. May the ripples there continue, as You reach out for the lost through faithful people like C. In Jesus’ name, amen.

(Next Week, the final chapter: Part 5 – The Harvest and Perspective)

For, behold, I am for you, and I will turn to you, and you will be cultivated and sown. – Ezekiel 36:9

“C,” a young Christian mom, had been falsely accused of child abuse and sentenced to four months in the county jail. Although her plea of “No contest” was made to avoid a trial by jury, that would have risked up to 25 YEARS in prison, still four months away from her husband and very young children was a miserable way to spend a summer in Michigan, when other families were enjoying the beaches, parks, and pools.

If you missed the beginning of this story, here are the links to get caught up, if desired:

When God Says “No” … Again Part I: The Nightmare

When God Says “No” … Again Part 2: Eggs, Carrots, and Coffee Beans

When I received a response to the letter I had written C, it was obvious that she was struggling with her faith because of all the unanswered prayers. (Or rather, the “no” answers to everything we had all asked for.) Since the overwhelming emotion was that of having been abandoned by God, I offered to send her a copy of my book BARRIERS, with the subtitle “(So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?).” C accepted the offer and added that a few of the women in her pod (cell of eight people) were also interested.

I went to the jail website to read the rules for sending books. I learned that they couldn’t be hardbound (My books were all paperbacks, so no problem there.) and that they had to come directly from the publisher. I called and talked to the woman in charge, telling her that I was the publisher, and asking permission to send a book, or maybe a few books to the jail. I was told that I could.

Meanwhile, C’s husband, “T,” who was allowed frequent “face time” with her, got the names of the interested “girls” in C’s pod. I made one more phone call to the woman in charge and asked if I could sign the books, and she said that I could. I prayerfully wrote a little note to each lady and shipped seven books the next day.

The following Monday I got a text from T, saying he had “good news and bad news.”

I thought, Uh-oh, now what?

The good news was, the books had arrived. The “bad news” was that the woman I had talked to had been off that day, and her replacement had opened the box and put the books onto the book cart for the general population. All but two had been snatched up by other inmates.

(As an author not used to having my books “snatched up,” this did not seem like 100% “bad news” to me…)

I promptly sent another five books, and T gave C the heads-up so she and her friends could watch for the books and grab them. I also wrote her another letter that included the questions for the first few chapters from the BARRIERS study guide.

The next letter I received from C showed her being lifted from the initial feelings of total despair. Her focus had shifted from the misery of her situation and more toward others around her, as she could see she was beginning to have an influence on other inmates.

At first, the other women had made fun of her lack of “street smarts” (She knew nothing about the world of illegal drugs.). They had started calling her “Mom,” since she would occasionally reprimand them for being rude or behaving inappropriately. At first the nickname was a way to mock the newbie, but as they got to know her, it became more a term of endearment and even respect.

As for me, I had my own nickname for her: “God’s little coffee bean.”

And now C was about to start a Bible study on prayer, and why God sometimes doesn’t answer us the way we would like Him to.

TO BE CONTINUED …

I will praise you, O Lord, with all my heart; I will tell of all your wonders. – Psalm 9:1

As some of you know, I recently recorded my novel, Counselor – my first audiobook!

Another “First” from 2022 – Expanding My Reach

Today I got word that Counselor is now available on Amazon, Audible, and will be on iTunes within the next few days. If you are an audiobook “reader,” or if you know someone who is, especially someone who is a “young adult” – or used to be one (I’ve been told the college setting makes older readers nostalgic.) – please consider Counselor for your next listen.

Counselor is a love story and a mystery, with a touch of supernatural. Someone has compared it to the first book in the Twilight series, only instead of twilight fading into darkness, this story is more predawn light growing into daybreak…

Prayer: Lord, thank You for another milestone in my life. Please use this audiobook to introduce more people to You. May they fall in love with You, as I have. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good. – Romans 12:21

In America we don’t expect innocent people to go to jail, certainly not a good Christian mom living out her faith by loving her husband and raising six children, including two adopted. But my newest acquaintance, “C,” had been accused of child abuse and sentenced to four months in jail. It was summertime in Michigan, and instead of looking forward to taking her kids to the park or the beach, this mom was facing four months locked up and away from her family until fall. What made this outcome especially disappointing was that many, many people had been praying fervently about the situation.

When God Says “No” … Again Part I: The Nightmare

What happened? Was God taking a vacation?

Although I was as baffled as anyone, I wrote to C to try to encourage her. I shared with her a story that I had read that morning that had made me think of her:

A mother was teaching her little girl about responding to trials, using three pots of water to illustrate. In one pot the mother placed some eggs, in the second she placed some carrots, and in the last one she placed some coffee beans. Then she turned up the heat. After the pots had been boiling for a few minutes, the mom turned off the heat.

Fishing an egg out of the first pot, she showed her daughter that although on the outside it looked the same as it had before, inside it had become hardened, just as some people let troubles harden them. Next the mother took out the carrots and showed her daughter that they had become weak, soft, and mushy, like people who let hardships weaken them. Finally, the mom poured out some of the water that the coffee beans had been in and showed her daughter that the beans had actually affected the environment around them, just as in the heat of trials some Christians cause change in their world, rather than letting the world change them. These saints infuse the atmosphere around them with “the aroma of Christ.”

A few days later I got a long letter in response. C was struggling to keep her faith, as I’m sure any of us would have been in her situation. Everything we had asked for had been denied, and what we had prayed wouldn’t happen had happened, even details such as her family’s not having to see her in shackles after sentencing. But she had been led down the hall past her family and friends. Then, after another person was picked up, she was led past them a second time on her way to the jail.

C’s first five days in the jail had been spent in “quarantine” (a.k.a. solitary confinement), which I think would have had me fighting depression right from the start. C had then attended a “Bible study,” but said the leader didn’t seem to have a lesson plan, wasn’t sure what the “fruits of the Spirit” were, and didn’t know where in the Bible to find the Ten Commandments.

C had then looked for some encouragement by attending a “church service” in the jail, but the perspective was not biblical Christianity, so again she came up empty.

In spite of all these discouraging circumstances, C tried to be faithful, although a little nagging voice in her head kept asking, What’s the point? The “church service” and the Bible study, as discouraging as they had been, had offered some opportunity for discussion, and some of the other women were already asking questions of a spiritual nature that C responded to, although she felt her heart wasn’t in it. She told me she had even shared the parable of the egg, the carrot, and the coffee beans with the others in her unit.

Alluding to the parable, C expressed the desire to be a “coffee bean,” but confessed that she was more like either the hardened egg or the mushy carrot, feeling betrayed by God.

I wrote back to her, pointing out (reminding her) that what she was going through Jesus Himself had endured – falsely accused and condemned, the shame of public crucifixion, and His cry from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” I tried to encourage her not to be too dependent on emotions. As I have often written, faith and obedience can come with or without emotional confirmation – although feeling it sure does help! As bad as she was feeling, she had not lost her faith – the fact that she was struggling was a sign that she still had faith, a faith worth fighting for.

It then occurred to me that C might be interested in my book BARRIERS, especially since the subtitle is “So, if prayers are so powerful, how come mine don’t get answered?” It’s a question I think all Christians ask at one time or another, even non-Christians.

Then, thinking of the women who were already being drawn to C, I wondered if any of them might want to read the book, too. I offered to send her as many copies as needed and allowed. I told her I thought she would be a good Bible study leader – and yes, BARRIERS has a study guide!

I asked if there were Bibles in the jail and offered to send some along with the books. (Everything I assert in BARRIERS I back up with Scripture, and I want my readers to see first-hand that the Bible teaches the lessons they’re reading.)

As I waited for C’s response, I tried not to let my imagination run wild with the possibilities of what the Lord could do in four months …

Prayer: Father, thank You for Your Word that promises us that all things work together for the good of those who love You and are called according to Your purpose. Thank You for calling us. May we never lose faith in Your plan, even when we don’t know what that plan is. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not …” – Daniel 3:17,18a

Without a doubt, one of the times we need “divine perspective” the most is when the answer to a fervent prayer is “No.” It is especially troubling when that answer – or non-answer – comes with no explanation. We look around us and see others getting instant answers to requests for a parking spot or something equally trivial, while our desperate pleadings seem to drift off into space, unheard.

And yet, we can be like the “bug in the rug” I wrote about in another post, daily crawling through light and dark, pleasant, unpleasant, and downright miserable. Then one day, like the bug sprouting wings and looking down on the whole rug with its colorful patterns, we can look back at all we’ve been through and see that God, the Master Designer, has been in control all along, even on those days – or especially on those days – when He seemed most distant. There is a “Big Picture” – God’s plan – and whether we see it now or not, it’s beautiful.

This past summer I was privileged to have a ringside seat for one such journey, one that began as an absolute nightmare and, in the end, showed God had a plan that could only be appreciated in hindsight.

Last fall I was visiting my old Michigan stomping ground and staying with my friend Kelly for a few days. One of those days a young couple came by, and Kelly introduced me to them. “T” and his wife “C” were the kind of people I greatly admire but would never attempt to emulate. They had six children – four biological and two adopted. Their youngest child was an infant, and the rest were home schooled. (I got tired just thinking about what they did.) As I recall, for most of the visit Kelly, T and I talked, while C was in the yard keeping tabs on the lively kids and making sure they didn’t fall in the lake.

Not long after that day, I got a text from Kelly, asking me to pray for this family. She didn’t go into why, just that they were in a major crisis and really needed the Lord’s help.

I was later to learn that one of the adopted children had fallen down a flight of stairs. She had suffered a brain bleed and needed surgery. When she was questioned about what had happened, she had said, truthfully, that she had fallen when her mother was in the breezeway. Later, after CPS had taken her elsewhere to live, she had been questioned again and again told what had happened. But after repeated questioning she had changed her story to say C had pushed her, and so had begun for T and C a parent’s worst nightmare.

There were months of being investigated, waiting to see whether there would be charges, and the constant uncertainty of whether all of their children would be taken away from them. I prayed and enlisted the help of my church and other “prayer warriors” I knew, and we stormed heaven’s gates and waited for updates. Through Kelly I heard about the agonizing wait for court hearings, only to have them postponed time and again. When finally formal charges were filed in the spring, C learned that if she were to be found guilty by a jury, she could face up to twenty-five years in prison. For this reason, her lawyer advised her to avoid a trial by not pleading “not guilty.” If she were to plead “no contest,” she would be sentenced by a judge with a penalty anywhere from five years down to probation. As much as C knew she was not guilty, the thought of spending half of the rest of her life in prison, never seeing her children grow up, in the end she and T decided to take the lawyer’s advice; she pled “no contest.”

Next came the sentencing, and again it was an agonizing time of “wait and see.” The two adopted children had been taken and placed in another family, but the foster father soon concluded that the one child was “a habitual liar,” and was afraid to keep her, lest he end up in the same predicament as C. (As of this writing, the children are somewhere “in the system” and could no doubt use our prayers, too.)

Meanwhile, we were all praying for favor from the judge, that she would discern the truth, and that if there still had to be a sentence, it would be the minimum, so the four children who were left wouldn’t be deprived of their mother for any length of time.

When the sentencing finally came, C was given four months in jail. She and T were crushed. Although I knew it could have been much worse, that was easy for me to say, sitting in my comfortable house with loved ones within reach. One of my praying friends responded by commenting, “Paul did some of his best ministry in prison.” But I wasn’t sure how much encouragement that would be to C and T at this point.

TO BE CONTINUED …

Prayer: Lord Jesus, thank You for coming to earth and suffering for us. You understand when our own hearts cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” We know, of course, that You haven’t forsaken us. Help us to hang onto Your promises when times are dark and we see no light at the end of the tunnel. And when we have come out on the other side and can see what You had planned all along, help us to tell our stories and encourage those who are still seeking You in the darkness, in Jesus’ name. Amen.

[Jesus] said to them, “Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation.” – Mark 16:15

Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory!” – I Chronicles 4:10a

At my class reunion last May, I was visiting with a former classmate who had lost her vision a few years ago. We spent some time sharing our love for audiobooks, and she became very animated as she recommended some of her favorites. This conversation reawakened in me a dream that’s been on the “back burner” far too long.

I had discovered the wonderful world of audiobooks some years ago, when that form of book was relatively rare. But in recent years this method of “reading” has taken off, largely due to the lifestyles of people who have little time to sit and read. (I am one of them.) People today listen to books while walking, jogging, doing housework and yardwork, waiting in line, and falling asleep.

I had thought about making my own books into audiobooks for some time. Since one of the main characters in my first book, Counselor, is legally blind, it seemed only reasonable that the story should be made available to people who were blind themselves. But I had repeatedly procrastinated for one reason or another. Now, after meeting this old friend, and thinking of others not able to read my books, I decided to stop putting it off!

Back in Louisville, I did some calling around and found there were a number of recording studios in town. Most of the owners I talked to were nice enough, and having prayed about this new venture, I wondered how the Lord was going to let me know which studio was the one I should go to. This being a whole new experience, I needed someone to walk me through it.

I was also hoping that whoever I worked with would be a believer in Jesus, but I couldn’t bring myself to say, “Hello, I’m thinking of recording my book in your studio. Are you a born-again believer in Jesus Christ?” So, I just told Jesus and waited for Him to lead.

One studio owner named Jeff answered not only the questions I had, but also the ones I hadn’t thought to ask yet. As he explained the process of making an audiobook, I realized there was a lot more to it than just reading out loud and recording! And he was more than willing to explain it all to me.

Another thing that set this man apart from the others I had talked to was what seemed like genuine interest in my project. He was the first one to ask me what my book was about.

“It’s called Counselor, and it’s about a college student studying theater, whose ‘career’ is going nowhere. She meets a graduate student from the psychology department who befriends her and becomes a sort of unofficial counselor to her. He’s legally blind and has cerebral palsy …”

“I’m legally blind,” the man said. Jeff already sounded like someone who was easy to work with, so when he informed me of this coincidence, I saw it as confirmation and made my decision.

I soon learned Jeff is a Christian, too. I can’t say I was surprised. It was nice to begin recording sessions with prayer.

Jeff is also a director. He would stop and make me reread a portion if he thought it could be better. I got flashbacks of being back in school, dealing with reading too fast! I found I was especially prone to this bad habit with my own writings. Knowing that what was coming up was more exciting than what I was reading at the moment, I’d be rushing, and Jeff would stop me.

“You’re reading again,” he would admonish. (I was reading, but I was supposed to be storytelling.) So, we’d back up, and I would read that portion again, this time as if it were the most important part of the story.

It’s cringe-worthy enough for me to hear my own recorded voice, but I learned on the first day that the sensitive equipment also picked up every time I inhaled. But Jeff assured me he could go through the recording and meticulously remove every little breath when we were finished.

Even though I had been putting off this project for years, once it was started, I was very impatient to keep going! So, it frustrated me no end when I got sick and lost my voice for a week, right before a week off for Thanksgiving, and soon after that, another week off for Christmas!

But God has a way of making even the frustrations work for good, and we made the best of the situation. In one chapter the main character, Liz, catches a terrible cold/laryngitis a week before her theatrical debut, and she is in a panic. (Liz and I have a lot in common.) I came into the studio one day and read that chapter with my hoarse voice, and later recorded it again with my normal voice. Jeff then took all of sick Liz’s lines with the scratchy voice and patched them into the dialogue seamlessly.

When the whole book had been recorded, Jeff and I each listened to it separately to catch little spots where I didn’t enunciate clearly enough, said the wrong word, or where I wanted to say a line differently. (I majored in directing, so I can be picky, too.) We each made a list of “tweaks” and got back together to do the fine tuning.

Finally, Jeff walked me through the process of getting the (virtual) paperwork done to make sure everything was legit. This, more than any step, was where I know I would have dropped the ball – I’m terrible at those things.

Bottom line: The audio version of Counselor will soon be available on Audible, Amazon, and i-Tunes. I’ll keep y’all posted.

Prayer: Lord, thanks for expanding my reach and giving me ways to share the gospel that fit my personality. Thanks for using even the frustrating things to communicate Your grace. Whatever my ideas are, Yours are always better. (I love You!) Amen.