I miss sleep.

Oh, how I miss it.

I miss going to bed and having every expectation that I will not be disturbed until my alarm blares. Or the neighbor’s rooster gets cranked up. Whichever comes first.

I miss waking up refreshed.

These days, when I wake up—never of my own accord—every cell in my body joins in a protest march.

I picture them with tiny picket signs as they work to put my sleep deprived body in motion.

“More sleep!” “Two more hours.” “Stop the madness!” “Are you crazy, woman?”

Their threats are simple. They want more sleep, but if I refuse, they demand an immediate caffeine infusion or—and they’ve made good on this threat—they will shut me down.

To make matters worse, I’m not a morning person. If I had my way, I’d go to bed around midnight and sleep until eight.

And all would be right with the world.

Instead, I go to bed sometime before midnight if I’m lucky, get up at least once or twice to soothe the baby, sometimes once or twice to feed the baby, and then somewhere around 6AM, I hear tiny feet approach.

“You still sleep mommy?”
“Yes.”
“I want Mickey Mouse Clubhouse in mommy’s bed.”
“Of course you do.”

Somehow, my two-year old misses the sarcasm and climbs in the bed chattering at full volume about rocket ships and jet packs and requests for milk and a banana.

Once I’m awake, the demands of the day invade my mind and while a permeating exhaustion remains, sleep flees.

In an unexpected and stunning development, I’ve discovered that, once properly “coffeinated” (I made that up—do you like it?), I enjoy watching the day begin, especially if I can be outside as the sky fades from gray to blue.

And there’s an intangible delight in spending time with the Lord before the insanity that is my daily life begins.

So much so, that I find on the rare day when I get to sleep in and start my day a couple of hours later, while my body appreciates the sleep, my spirit misses the atmosphere of the earlier hours.

I’ve always dismissed those “morning” verses. You know the ones I’m talking about. Psalms is full of them. Not to mention the example we have from Jesus (and no one’s “busy” life can compare to His). So much talk about “early in the morning” and “rising before dawn” — it’s enough to give any self-respecting night owl nightmares.

But I’m starting to wonder if they were on to something. 

If maybe getting up early and spending some time with the Lord as the day is dawning has advantages I’ve never fully appreciated.

It means sacrificing some sleep (I can feel the picket line forming), but the benefits are worth it.

Give it a try . . . you just might like it. And if you do, tell us about it in the comments.

Psalm 5:3 ~ O LORD, in the morning you hear my voice; in the morning I prepare a sacrifice for you and watch. (ESV)

Prayer is not my specialty.

I believe in it.

I’m a big fan of it.

At least, I think I am.

The harsh reality is that while I have good intentions, my follow through leaves a little, something, a lot to be desired.

I find myself wondering if it really makes any difference? If God is sovereign (and He is) and He’s in control (and He is) then what exactly is the point of spending hours in prayer? Or minutes?

If you’ve ever asked the same questions (or would have if you weren’t afraid of being struck down for your heresy) then please read on.

This summer, I read A Praying Life: Connecting with God in a Distracting World by Paul E. Miller and it is reshaping the way I think about prayer—the why, the how, the where, and the results or lack thereof.

Paul Miller asks the same kinds of questions I’ve asked. He has some great answers. And they might not be what you’re expecting.

This isn’t a book about how you need to get your act together, develop some self-discipline, wear holes in the carpet and rub callouses on your knees.

In fact, Miller argues that instead of trying to get it together, we need to come to God as we are. To “come messy” and see what God does with our mess. As he puts it, “We look at the inadequacy of our praying and give up, thinking something is wrong with us. God looks at the adequacy of his Son and delights in our sloppy, meandering prayers.”

He tackles tough questions about prayer using examples from his family and personal life and then he gives practical, real-world examples of what a praying life looks like in our frenzied society.

Whether your prayer life is robust, scattered, or on life-support, A Praying Life will open your eyes afresh to the wonder, the mystery, the gift, the joy of prayer.

Prayer is hard.

But prayer is worth the effort.

“Regardless of how or when you pray, if you give God the space, he will touch your soul. God knows you are exhausted, but at the same time he longs to be part of your life. A feast awaits.” (A Praying Life, page 51)

This book has been in my “being read” stack for a couple of years. (I started it. Just never finished it.) I wish I’d read it sooner. If you’ve read it, or choose to read it in the months ahead, please let me know. I’d love to hear from you.

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Slow slowImage by ant.photos via FlickrAs I ran a few errands last week, a car pulled out in front of me.

He could have waited, but it wasn’t close enough to warrant laying down on the horn, so I let it go. (As if I could do anything about it in the first place).

But then things got a little . . . disturbing.

First, the driver didn’t seem to feel the need to pick up the pace. He meandered to the next road and turned right.

Too bad for me, I had to follow.

For the next mile, the driver developed close relationships with both the middle and right lines. His speed alternated between negative – ok, so that’s not possible – we’ll say really, really, really, really slow (happy now?) and very slow.

It didn’t take long for me to decide to maintain a healthy distance from this moron, idiot, individual. Especially since his head would, for several seconds at at time, disappear from view as he reached for some lost object which seemed to be in the floorboard of the passenger seat.

In dismay, I watched as he turned onto the interstate, and once again, I followed.

We survived a dicey merge into traffic and then the debate began. Should I stay back or should I take the first opportunity to weld his doors shut in my 2001 minivan?

After observing his driving prowess, I knew there was a chance he would choose to use the left lane while I was in it, but decided it was safer to get around him than risk being involved in the multi-car pileup this guy was prepping for.

As I pressed my flipflop to the floor and zipped (yes, you can zip in a mini-van) by, I couldn’t resist taking a peak at the object of my derision.

I can’t tell you much about him.

I sorta panicked when I realized the guy was cleaning his glasses.

Sweet mercy!

After I’d put a few miles between us, I started wondering about him. If he’d taken a few more minutes to prepare, he would have been ready for the drive. He could have retrieved the lost object from the floorboard, cleaned his glasses, waited for me to drive past before pulling out, and still arrived at his destination with time to spare. And without putting everyone in his path in danger while he was at it.

It made me wonder about myself and my journey.

Am I rushing into things I’m not ready for? If I took a little bit longer to prepare, would the way be smoother, for me and for those who are with me on this road?

Is it possible that what I see as a closed door, God sees as a speed bump?

A little hindrance, not to stop me from reaching my goals, but to slow me down so I have time to learn and prepare for what He has in store for me?

Instead of fighting the limitations inherent in my current stage of life, I’m trying to embrace them. (Hey, I said trying.) Instead of wasting energy plotting ways to escape, I’m trying to enjoy where I am. Instead of moping over each rejection, I’m trying to rest in His timing.

How about you? Do you feel like you’re spinning your wheels?

Maybe God’s holding on to your bumper.

Maybe He’s planning to let you go, just not yet.

Maybe it’s just a little too soon.

Psalm 25:1-5 ~ To you, O LORD, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust; let me not be put to shame; let not my enemies exult over me. Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame; they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Make me to know your ways, O LORD; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long. (ESV)

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I am a total Martha.

Not Martha Stewart. Trust me. The decorating gene chuckled, laughed, snorted hysterically as it skipped by me.

I’m talking about Martha. From the Bible.

I am often “anxious and troubled about many things” and I am not above pointing out to God that “Hey, I’m busting my tail here and some people aren’t pulling their weight. Why don’t you make them step up?”

(That last part comes from the LSV—Lynn’s Satirical Version—I think Luke may have been a friend of Martha’s and was cutting her a little slack).

I’m a total Martha.

But I long to be a Mary.

I want to sit at His feet.

I want Jesus to say about me “She has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

If you can relate, then you need to read Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World by Joanna Weaver.

I read this book six or seven years ago. It stomped my toes then. I re-read it this summer and once again, found it both convicting and encouraging.

In fact, it was while reading this book that my “quiet time” took on a consistency and meaning that I have never experienced before. (I put quiet time in quotes because with three children, quiet isn’t necessarily the most accurate word…I’ve blogged about this here).

Joanna Weaver writes from the position of a fellow “Martha” and she asserts that God doesn’t expect all of the Marthas of the world to change into Marys. On the contrary, we Marthas are key servants in the Kingdom.

But we need to learn when to serve and when to sit. When to work and when to worship.

We need to have a Mary heart in a Martha world.

Luke 10:38-42 ~ Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (ESV)

Port-42Image via Wikipedia

Deuteronomy 31:8 ~ It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. (ESV)

Some people wish they could know the future.

Not me.

If I spent too much time thinking about my future, I’d lose my mind.

For one thing, there’s so much cancer in my family, I’m a statistic waiting to happen.

Then there’s the fact that my husband is a financial advisor. Yes, you read that right. So don’t even get me started on the stock market.

And while you may fret over your empty nest—either current or future—I don’t expect my nest to ever be empty. Instead, I prepare to care and provide for a child for many years after my own passing.

And those are just a couple of my “biggies”. You have your own.

I try not to dwell on what my life will look like twenty years from now, but I recently heard about a situation that terrified me. It’s one of those things where the consequences of other’s actions could have a significant impact on my life.

My stomach clenched into a knot that I couldn’t shake. I spent an embarrassing amount of time allowing my mind to wander into the future. I imagined one wretched scenario after another. (This is a problem with being a writer—I spend a lot of time making things worse and worse for my characters. When I start doing it to myself, it’s scary).

I eventually gave up and started praying about it. (Yes, I realize I should have started there. And yes, I should know better by now).

As I prayed, these words flew through my mind.

“It is the LORD who goes before you.”

I clung to this truth and as I focused on Him, anxiety lost its grip. The potential calamity didn’t change but my fear of it lessened.

In Deuteronomy, God didn’t say the conquering of Canaan would be easy. He didn’t say the Israelites would never face difficulty. He said He would go before them and never leave them. And after He said that, He said, “Do not fear or be dismayed.”

I don’t know what’s looming in your life.

It may be scary. You may be terrified.

But you are not alone.

It is the LORD who goes before you. He will be with you; He will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed.

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image courtesy of photobucket.com

I recently lost my fiction mojo.

It wasn’t pretty.

Read about how I got it back over at The Write Conversation.

Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now!Image via Wikipedia

I love my children.
I do.

But some days, by the time Brian gets home, I need to get out. And by out, I mean out of the house, by myself.

Brian learned this long ago, when Emma was still a baby. Sometimes the best thing he can say to me is “Go”.
So a few weeks ago, he said “Go” and “Go” I went (Marvin K. Mooney anyone?).

It was already after 8PM so I made two necessary stops for groceries and then decided to hit Kohl’s for a little retail therapy before they closed.

Now, admittedly, this was a dangerous move. I’ve just had my third child and I wasn’t skinny to begin with. Who knew what size I’d have to buy? But sometimes, a new outfit can put a spring in my step and I decided to risk it.

I meandered through the limited petite section—I’m not skinny but I am short—and picked up a few shirts and a couple of capris that looked promising.

Just as I started for the fitting rooms, my phone rang.

When I answered, I didn’t need to ask why Brian was calling.

I could hear Drew.

Brian’s no wimp and he’s more than capable of taking care of our children. I knew he wouldn’t have called unless Drew was inconsolable.

But I was still ticked.

All I wanted was an hour to myself. Maybe a new outfit. Instead, I stopped where I was, put the clothes on the nearest rack, race-walked out of the store and sped home.

By the time I walked in the door, Drew was asleep.

I felt cheated.

The next morning, after getting up three times during the night to feed Drew, sending Emma off on the bus and dropping James at preschool, I decided to try again. Maybe, since I’d already looked the night before, I could find the clothes quickly, try them on, and get out of there before Drew needed to eat again.

I pushed the stroller to the Petite department and as I turned the corner, I couldn’t believe my eyes. All the clothes I had picked out the night before were still together, hanging right where I had left them.

Now, you might think it was a coincidence. But you didn’t hear the little voice that whispered “I know, honey” as I stared at my selections, waiting on me to come back for them.

Sometimes, motherhood means sacrifice. Big things and small things. And it’s easy to think no one notices or cares.

But God is always paying attention.

I thought I’d been robbed of my “me” time. But God used it to remind me that He’s always watching. He always sees.

It was His version of retail therapy.

And then—and really, I think He was showing off with this one—the clothes fit.

I bought them all.

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Some of the first “grown up” books I can remember reading were in the historical fiction genre. “Prairie romances” I think they’re called now. These days, I still love reading books set in a different time, where the plot and characterizations are influenced by the mores of the day and both time and place are used to add dimension to a fantastic story.

And I recently read a great one. Under A Desert Sky counts as historical fiction because it’s set in pre-World War II New Mexico. It counts as a romance because, well, there’s love in the air. And, it counts as suspense because it opens with a murder and ends with . . . well, you’ll have to read it to find out. Trust me. It has a twist.

So we’ll call it historical romantic suspense. In my opinion, the best of three worlds!

DiAnn Mills set Under A Desert Sky at Ghost Ranch after she spent some time there a few years ago. Eva Fortier, our heroine, is on the run after witnessing a grisly murder. She hopes to find safety. What she finds is a whole new way of life . . . and love.

But nothing is as it seems. And nothing is easy. With a compelling setting, fiery characters, racial tension, challenged faith and blossoming romance, Under A Desert Sky will keep you turning pages long after you should have gone to bed.

Well, maybe you have more self-control, but that’s what happened to me.

****
Extra! Extra! Anyone who’d like to hear from DiAnn about how she got the idea for Under A Desert Sky can check out this interview with Alton Gansky from the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference website.

Disclaimer: DiAnn Mills sent me this book, and included me in the acknowledgements, neither of which she needed to do. I didn’t actually “do” anything – just put her in touch with someone who could help. She in no way expected a review on this blog.

You’ve seen the commercials.

Need to find a restaurant that serves sushi at 3AM? There’s an app for that.

Need to find a store that sells minnows and hair gel? There’s an app for that.

Need to know where the cheapest gas, tastiest fajitas or creepiest movies are? There’s an app for that, too.

With a touch, a swipe, a download, we can get our hands on just about anything we need.

But sometimes, life calls for something stronger than an app.

And as current as tomorrow’s headlines, the Bible comes through … with a Psalm. No matter what life has thrown at you, you can browse through the Psalms and find one that fits.

Feeling happy? There’s a Psalm for that. (Psalm 100)

Feeling blue? There’s a Psalm for that. (Psalm 88)

Floating on a cloud without a care? Suffering pain, persecution, problems with friends and family? There’s a Psalm for all of that, too. (Psalm 57)

But what if you don’t know what you feel?

What if you know you should trust, but feel defeated and alone? Or what if you know God’s supposed to have everything under control, but you’re starting to wonder if maybe He’s dropped the ball?

You guessed it, there’s a Psalm for that. (Quite a few actually. Psalm 22, 42 & 69 come to mind but there are a bunch more.)

In the past few weeks, I’ve needed help in all these areas…I’ve cried out for grace, I’ve interceded for mercy, I’ve asked God “why” and “how long” and “are you sure you know what you’re doing?” and I’ve been blown away by how awesome, powerful, faithful and loving God is.

Some people think the Bible is archaic and obsolete.

But it seems to me God is on the cutting edge.

Because no matter where you are and no matter what you need . . .
He’s got a Psalm for that.

What about you? Do you have a favorite Psalm? Share it with us in the comments.

I love to read fiction. I love to be transported to places I’ve never been and experience thrills that set my heart racing—as I sit snug on the sofa in my pajamas, sipping coffee and eating some form of chocolate.

I also enjoy non-fiction. My spirit responds to challenging words that inspire me to experience more of the abundant life God designed for me.

It’s a rare thing to find non-fiction that reads like fiction. To know that the events that have you biting your nails as you flip page after page, that have you marveling at the way God works—really did happen to a real person.

When you find a modern story that didn’t develop in the mind of man but grew out of the heart of God—well, you’ve found a treasure.

Call of a Coward by Marcia Moston is just such a rare jewel. It begins with this line…

”The problem with promising God you’ll follow Him wherever He leads is that you just might have to go.”

And you know from that moment – you’re in for an adventure.

If you believe that following God is easy and predictable, then Call of a Coward will shatter your preconceived notions of what answering God’s call entails.

In vivid language, Marcia Moston takes us on an intimate journey of faith. We feel her shock in the moment her husband informs her he feels God calling them to a remote Guatemalan village. We sympathize as she negotiates with God for her daughter’s safety. We ache with her when fear and exhaustion overwhelm her.

With humor and honesty, Call of a Coward gives us a glimpse into how God is working today. And there’s nothing predictable about it. Even when things don’t go as expected, we see how nothing done for Him is ever wasted.
~~~~~~~~~~
In the next few weeks, I’ll be participating in a blog tour for Call of a Coward and plan to have an interview with Marcia. But there’s no need to wait to learn more! Call of a Coward is available from WestBow Press, Amazon and Barnes & Noble and is available in e-book formats for your Nook or Kindle.

In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that Marcia and I are both active in the Upstate Fellowship of Christian Writers, as well as an on-line group, The Light Brigade. I’ve had the joy of celebrating her publication with her and I can say with confidence that her heart’s desire is for those who read Call of a Coward to be drawn into a deeper and more radical walk with their Savior.

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