Wealth: The Blessing and The Curse

Whenever my husband and I hear someone say, "It's not about the money," we always look at each other and say, "It's always about the money."

Writing. Maybe, just maybe, I thought I would actually make money from writing. Okay, truth time. I kind of imagined I might actually make lots of money from writing. Isn't that a common dream? To get rich from your efforts?

Now, I simply wish my writing income would be greater than my expense. Okay, more truth. I don't do marketing. I mean, I really stink at it. So, what does that mean? In today's writing world, to make money you must market. *sigh* Does that mean I have no one to blame but myself?

Then I ask myself how would I handle wealth. Could I handle wealth? Fame? Would it change me? What kind of "rich" person would I be? Nice? Generous? Stingy? Prideful? Aloof? Do any of us truly know our hearts and how we would behave in certain circumstances?  Maybe, but maybe not.

We have dear friends of almost 30 years who own several fast food chains. By several, it might be close to 20. Good people who love Jesus and others. Great example of Christianity. They are generous, but not foolish, with their money. Encouragers. Prayer warriors. Money has helped them live a comfortable life, but having money has cost dearly.

Their sons have been/are business partners. The oldest, a family man, went through a divorce and married again. Per his request, he was bought out of the family business. Then he sued his parents for more. And won. Big, big money. Months later the current wife shot him in the head while he sat on a sofa, waited 23 minutes and called police. All caught on surveillance cameras. He died and the money the wife inherited paid for lawyers. She's in prison. This is taken from a news report, I x'd the wife's name out:
XXXXX entered the living room of her central Phoenix home armed with a handgun. Her husband was sitting on the couch, talking on the phone. She raised the gun, drew a bead and fired. She sat down on the couch as he lay dying and lit a cigarette. Finally, 23 minutes later, XXXXX called 911 and reported the shooting.

And now another business partner son is going through a divorce and his wife is suing his parents, our friends, for money. The heartache and trauma has cost these dear friends immensely. Other family members have taken advantage of them because they have money. Yet -- and this is important -- they are still loving, a great source of encouragement to others, and generous. Never blaming God. Their steadfast kindness has been a blessing to me, my husband, and family. Many times. And I don't mean with money. In fact, they have been gracious to us the past couple of weeks.

I weep for these good people. Would I, if I had wealth, behave as admirably in the face of adversity as our friends have? They have a beautiful home and lovely possessions. They can take a trip whenever they want. These are blessings and benefits of money.

Money can be a blessing. Sometimes it is a cursed thing to have. If I wrote of the above in a novel as a work of fiction, I'm sure some might scratch their heads and say so much tragedy could not happen to one couple who are such a good people.

It happened. The stress and grief have shown the true character of these dear friends. When I, or you, suffer from tragedy, what comes out of us?

Happy "Back to the Future" Day - October 21, 2015

Happy “Back to the Future” day. Today is the day, October 21, 2015, that took place in the future of the movie Back To The Future. The future – now – doesn’t look like it was portrayed in the movie. Hoverboards? Time travel? It didn’t happen that way. And some of the clothing….well, I’m glad it didn’t make a fashion statement for today.

As a child or a teenager, did you have expectations of what the future held? Goals? Dreams? I’m sure most of us did. Even at my age, I still have hopes and dreams for my future. Hoverboards….naw, I don’t think I care, or I’d even be interested in a hoverboard. When I was younger, maybe. Imagine a great-grandmother with a look of sheer terror on her face, riding a hoverboard and praying out loud, interspersed with squeals of fear, while she tries to remain an upright position. Yeah, that would be me.

What makes our dreams and goals a reality? Well, hard work and perseverance, for sure. It would be interesting to see into the future. Or not. It might be frightening.

I don’t know what my future holds – it won’t include hoverboards for me – but I know who holds my future. I don’t just who it is, I know him personally. It has been the single, most defining event in my life, when I, as a fourteen-year-old girl, knelt at an altar and asked Jesus to be Lord of my life. He has never failed me or let me down.

When I was younger and more immature in my relationship with Jesus, I thought he let me down plenty of times. But looking back, Jesus always had what was best for me in mind, although I didn’t always do what was best for me.

Marty McFly and Doc, you can have your hoverboards and DeLoreans. I have Jesus, and he is more than enough. 

Words That Paint A Picture

From words that we read, we form a visual image. Boy. An image of a boy pops into our mind. Ocean. We instantly see an ocean. Tree. We see a tree, although we'll all see a different tree unless the author calls it a pine or mesquite.

John 1:1 says, "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." We know that the Word here refers to Jesus. When you hear or see the word Jesus, what image comes to mind? A baby in a manger? A suffering Jesus on the cross?  The blue-eyed, long-haired, fair-skinned, smiling Jesus depicted in many portraits? 

Revelation 1: 14-16 (ESV) describes Jesus like this. "The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire,  his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters.  In his right hand he held seven stars, from his mouth came a sharp two-edged sword, and his face was like the sun shining in full strength."

That image is vastly different than a baby Jesus or a beaten, suffering, dying Jesus. This is a victorious, powerful warrior Jesus. John the Revelator made it very clear by his words who this resurrected Jesus is. He's not a helpless baby or a dying man. He is strong and powerful. 

As writers, we should give people a clear, precise image with our words. When an author describes a love scene, we should be able to feel the beating hearts and the passion of the kiss. When an author describes a walk on the beach, we should not only picture the water, but the waves, the sand, the sound. 

Truth and Super Bowl XLIX

Yesterday was Super Bowl Sunday. I live just a few miles from the University of Phoenix stadium where the Seattle Seahawks and New England Patriots faced each other to see who would be Super Bowl XLIX champions. Regardless of what team you were pulling for, or if you didn’t really care, it was a great game. The Patriots won, but, hey, GO SEAHAWKS!

My friend Kathy’s husband, Randy, although retired, works the events at the stadium for extra income. Since they’re from Seattle, it’s obvious who they wanted to win. Randy loved being in the middle of all the hype of Super Bowl, especially with the Seahawks.

Kathy and Randy attend the same church we do, and she was telling me a story yesterday at church. Randy was already at the stadium working. Kathy took her young granddaughter, Emily, to visit the NFL experience at the stadium on Saturday. While there they encountered a man passing out gospel cards saying Repent or You’re Going to Hell. The man was screaming at those passing by, “You’re all going to hell!”

When does truth become obnoxious? Counter-productive? Not everyone in that crowd was destined for hell, so it’s erroneous to scream such a statement. It was only a partial truth. As Christians, our desire should always be to only speak truth, especially when we set ourselves to be His representatives.

Remember the popularity of paraphernalia that had WWJD – What Would Jesus Do? Well, what would Jesus do if he had walked among the crowds at Super Bowl? Truth as I see it is this: Jesus would ooze love and compassion. His message would be, “I love you. Come to me all who are weary and heavy-laden. The joy I give is far greater than anything you receive from Super Bowl.”

Jesus would NOT be screaming, “You’re all going to hell,” in a voice that says he’s happy to send you to hell. He weeps over a lost, hurting, and misguided humanity. Jesus has no problem confronting sin or evil, but the man Kathy encountered does not represent the Jesus I know and serve.  

Have people failed you – those claiming to be Christians? Even the most sincere, compassionate, loving Christian is still fallible, imperfect, and full of human flaws and error. Set your eyes on Jesus. He never fails. He is Truth. He is Love. He is God. 

My Love/Hate Relationship With Christmas: Confessions of a Christmas-holic

It is two days after Christmas and I have been reduced to a drooling, mumbling, pajama-clad couch potato. In December a few years ago, I made a trip to the dermatologist where my daughter, Stephanie, works. I had burning, itching hives covering my neck and chest that felt like a hundred stinging ants.  “Well, looks like you were here last December for the same thing,” said the doctor.  “That’s it! It has been confirmed. I’m allergic to Christmas,” I replied.

I love Jesus. I serve Him as closely and faithfully as I can, but I have a love/hate relationship with Christmas. I love everything about it. I hate the amount of work that it entails. I confess, I am responsible for much of my Christmas to-do list. All those cookies I bake – dozens and dozens – to give to neighbors, family and friends. And my family reproduces like sex-starved rabbits, so my gift list is a continually growing, demanding parasite.

Thank God gift giving is my love language. Otherwise, I would eradicate that leech-list – set fire to it and cackle like the Wicked Witch of the West. Even though I purchase sale items all year long, I find myself scrambling and searching in a psychotic frenzy at the last minute every December. This year I had tons of little boy gifts, but many more little girls than boys in the family. Seriously, though, why can’t a three-month-old baby girl get a set of Hot Wheels as a gift? Who makes these rules anyway? I have a confession: little boys are easier to buy for than little girls, but men are harder to buy for than women. That is my truth, so there!

Then all the meals! Somehow I manage to keep up my usual “everyone-comes-to-my-house-for-lunch-after-church-every-Sunday” ritual. I had not fully recovered from all that cooking/baking I did for Thanksgiving when the kitchen fairy – that cursed, wretched, slave-driving creature – reminded me I have much to do in December.

And don’t ask me why I drive myself to be the Queen of Christmas Decorating. I even do the front yard décor with lights and everything. But I have learned a valuable, sanity-saving secret. Let there be no item set out at Christmas – or any other time – that is more precious to you than the tiny hands that may break it. My younger self was not so gracious about this. But now I let my grandkids and great-grandkids rearrange my village, take baby Jesus out of the nativity, touch Santas with not-so-clean fingers….you get the idea. And every year, something gets broken. And I always ask the tearful offender, “What do I love more? You or (that thing) you broke? Of course, I love you more.”

To make this December worse, I started off the first week with some coughing, achy, sneezing, fatigued virus from hell. It lasted a week. Then the Sunday night before Christmas – after having thirty plus people here that day for lunch and to play that steal-the-gift game – I got a horrid bug that kept me up most of the night with some demonic minion twisting a burning knife in my stomach.

I had to babysit a grandson Monday and Tuesday before Christmas. To top that off, my youngest daughter, Heather’s, husband ended up in ICU, so I had those three grandkids too. I was facing a Christmas Eve meal and festivities for 20-30 family, plus preparing a complete meal to take to the in-laws in another city on Christmas day.

Heaving a heavy sigh while every bone and muscle in my sixty-six year old body groans in protest, I am forever grateful for Jesus Christ, Incarnate God, who chose to be born as a helpless newborn with a destiny to sacrifice His mortal, human body because of His profound love for mankind. Words are inadequate to express the depth of my love for my Lord and savior.

This Christmas, I am especially grateful that my son-in-law, Bobby, got released from the hospital to be with his family for Christmas. Also, my sweet grandson, Nathanael, and his wife, Jessica, handed me a box of Cerrata’s Chocolates, and said, “Our other Christmas gift is that we’re going to have a baby.”  A miracle I have been praying about for almost two years. Only a handful know the significance of that announcement. 

And because I love my family and friends, I will always look forward to Christmas. 

Hope

How many times have you read a book or watched a movie where the villain is described by co-workers or neighbors as, “Quiet, but so likeable, a nice person” – everyone was surprised that hidden inside the person lurked someone completely different.

It hit home this week with the suicide of actor/comedian Robin Williams. I’m not going to discuss the moral issues surrounding what he did. Only God can judge. Often those who laugh the most do so to hide or help cope with the pain within. No one truly knows what goes on inside someone except that person and God.

I love television crime series that deal with profiling people. The upbringing, culture, environment, and care a person receives throughout their lifetime certainly determine much of their behavior.

We all have secrets. We hide wounds. We put on a façade. In my book Like A Cedar In Lebanon the reader starts out disliking, maybe even hating, Jack. He definitely isn’t a likeable person. The second half of the book takes you inside the heart and mind of Jack. The readers finds they now care about him.

What wound are you covering up? Does your spouse do things that hurt you, yet you keep silent about it? Communication is key to success in any relationship.

I suffered for years with deep depression brought on by my circumstances. I was plagued with thoughts of “ending it all.” I just wanted free from the torment. I overcame by my faith in God and surrounded myself with loving, caring people.

Writers, portray the story behind your characters’ behavior. Then, as a Christian writer, point your readers to the hope that is found in Jesus. With all honesty, I wouldn’t be here today if not for Him. 

Celebrating Easter

As Easter Sunday approaches I am reminded of the greatest love story ever told. I consider myself a writer of romance – with a twist – but no story will ever compare to that of Jesus. Such love! I am often dropped to my knees with the gratitude and humbleness by this love. Sadly, more often I take this love, and Jesus, for granted.

Two weeks ago our pastor preached a sermon about Jesus cleansing the temple from John 2:13-22. If you’re not familiar, it’s where Jesus turns over the moneychangers tables in the temple. It wasn’t so much what they were doing but their motives behind it – the condition of their hearts.

It brought tears to my eyes and an ache to my heart. I examined my heart and asked myself, how do I treat being in God’s house and His presence? I imagined being invited to a benevolent king’s or master’s house. He has made available a feast, and all the comforts and luxuries that are his are offered to me. What do I do with it? How do I treat Him for his kindness, grace, mercy, and love?

I am ashamed to admit that I whine and complain about so many things. I am often more ungrateful than grateful. The only one who has never failed me is Him. Truthfully, I would be dead if not for Jesus. He literally and figuratively saved me.

So, I write. I write to glorify Him. Or, at least I strive to. I want to show readers the Jesus I know through my fiction writing. I want my writing to be a blessing, to be anointed.  God, let it be, may it be so! And making some money at writing would be nice, too. Just keeping it real, folks.

God bless you and may His spirit and presence be vibrantly alive in your heart this Easter.  

Is Suicide Cowardly?

Last night my husband told me that Rick Warren and his wife were going to be on the Piers Morgan program tonight talking about the death of his son through suicide. I don’t like Piers Morgan, but I do like Rick Warren and prayed for the heartache he and his wife suffered over the tragic loss of their son. Any parent can imagine the horror and anguish of such an ordeal.

 

Everyone has their opinion on suicide and most have been touched or known someone whose life ended that way, or who have contemplated ending their life through suicide.  I’ve heard some people say suicide is the coward’s way out – that it’s selfish because of the tremendous hurt it causes those left behind.

 

My question is: Have you ever been suicidal? Felt despair so deep you didn’t want to live? If you answer no, then you have no idea what drives a person to this. I’m not talking about a trendy gesture some have who think suicide is noble, grand or romantic. It’s not!

 

I was a twenty-three-year-old, young mother of four – yes, you read that right – when on
a summer, mid-afternoon day, a ten-year-old neighbor girl, surrounded by six of her younger siblings, was pounding on my door, screaming hysterically, “Please, help my mom!”

 

I took off sprinting behind this passel of kids, raising my hand to wave to my elderly neighbor, Sarah, whose house was between mine and the one I was running to. Fully expecting to see a woman who had fainted, or fallen, I stopped, numb with shock, at what I saw. I first took in the crying baby standing at the foot of the bed in a pool of blood, then my eyes traveled to the woman lying on the bed and the gun laying next to her head.

 

That was 1971. I seldom think about it, and I wonder why. Sometimes I do think of those eight young children, and wonder if they were able to in some extent, overcome – you never completely overcome – the sight of their mother that day. I have often wondered what led up to that horrible day for this sweet mother of many. To some degree, I understand the deep despair that leads to such an excruciating, hopeless decision. I have scars on my wrist to prove it.

 

Only Jesus can give hope to elevate us from that kind of consuming despair. My prayer for you is that you know that hope Jesus offers, AND that you are sensitive to someone you are close to who may be feeling that despair and hopelessness.  

Sharing Truth As a Writer

As a Christian writer, I am first and foremost a Christian. As long as my Christianity is as it should be, all areas of my life will be affected – my life as a wife, mother, brother, sister, daughter, friend, neighbor, co-worker, and as a writer.

God wants truth to be told, and truth can be told as we write fiction. As writers, whether we write fiction or non-fiction, what message do we want to convey? What do we want readers to see and feel from our writing? More importantly, how does our writing portray God, Jesus, Christians, and faith?

Everyone has a different message God has laid on their heart as a writer. I deal with tough issues as I write: abuse, divorce, adultery, molestation, abortion, gossip, unfaithfulness, to name a few. And these things all happen within the church! Yikes, you may exclaim – you mean Christians aren’t perfect? If you find that hard to believe, you haven’t been in church long enough.

I have good news! In the midst of all that, GOD REIGNS! That is my message! That is what God has called me to do as a writer. Bad things happen to good people, to Christians. Good people, Christians, do bad things! Does God stop being God because of that? Absolutely not!

Most television, movies, and writings – unless faith-based – portray Christians as psycho-babbling, bible-thumping, scripture-screaming, judgmental, bigoted morons.

God wants truth told! Let me repeat that: God wants truth told. He is the originator of truth. In His Word, He lays it all out there: the good, the bad, and the ugly! I want to show God’s heart in the midst of suffering and failure. He is compassionate, and He does grieve over the tragedies and suffering of His children, even when it is of their own doing.

God is calling writers to share the truth of His nature, the truth of how He wants Christians to behave, the truth of how He can restore, the truth of His love for mankind!

Share that truth!

2013 As A Writer

“T’was the night before Christmas…” And then Christmas was over and done.  I hope everyone enjoyed the season--that it was filled with love, laughter, loved ones, and remembering the Reason for the Season is Jesus.

Now that the New year, 2013, is upon us and then all those pesky resolutions start appearing.  I always make resolutions---that get broken.  So my resolutions for 2013 are:

**Lose weight (my all-time most used one). **Eat healthier. **Exercise more. **Read the Bible more. **Pray more. ** Finish all the novels I’ve started (4 of them). **Get published by a traditional publisher. **Write, write, write, write (you get the idea).  **Push the sales on my book Like A Cedar In Lebanon (I haven’t really done much with that other than creating a Facebook Author Page)

But the most important thing I am determined to do in 2013 as a writer, or otherwise, is to press into God like never before, to lay my head on His chest and hear His heartbeat, to be enveloped in His presence. I want to see people through His eyes.

God bless you one and all! May 2013 bring all your hopes and dreams to fruition.