I’ve had a horrible day.

It started out fine. Brian took Emma to school so I had a bit more time this morning. I got the car washed and pulled into the church parking lot at 8:55AM. And then my phone rang. It was the school nurse.

Emma has a cough. Yeah. I know. She’ll be coughing from now until June. So will I. She inherited my allergic cough. Nothing I can do about it. She’s fine.

I went on to Bible study, but was distracted by maternal guilt. What kind of mother tells the school nurse she is NOT going to pick up her child from school? But I was at Bible study. And we missed last week because of “snow”. And I really, really, really needed to be at Bible study. I needed to talk to adults. I needed to hear whatever Beth Moore had to say. I’ve spent the last week taking care of everyone in the house with various illnesses, while not feeling well myself and not having anyone interested in taking care of me. I needed to be refreshed and renewed.

My phone rang again at 9:45. This time, it was the teacher. And this time, I could hear Emma coughing in the background. A LOT of coughing. Every 30 seconds or so.

I managed to get her an appointment with her allergist for 11AM. The problem with an 11AM appointment? Nothing. For Emma. EVERYTHING for James. He fell asleep 30 seconds before we got there. He did not wake up happy.

I’ll spare you the details of the next hour, but they included a lot of crying (mostly by James, maybe a little by me), Emma’s ADHD meds wearing off, me being clawed on the neck by James’ fingernails I meant to trim yesterday, etc.

Somewhere in the middle of it, I thought “This is NOT what I had planned for today.”

And then I remembered yesterday’s post and that Voice asked me if I was, perhaps, throwing a fit because things weren’t going my way.

Now, in all fairness, my thoughts about throwing a fit when things don’t go as planned were more along the lines of the big things. You know, having a child with a rare genetic syndrome or losing three family members to cancer in the space of six months. BIG THINGS.

But, apparently, God meant it for the little things, too. I wish I could tell you this insight made a huge difference in my morning, but I’m still struggling with it. I still don’t see the point in my entire week going down the toilet (as I told the nurse).

So, the moral of this story is simple. If you have the nerve to blog about some sort of spirtual insight, you should expect to get to test it out in the real world. Probably the very next day. You have been warned!

(I have to go now. Emma is trying to remove my hands from the keyboard. She wants to play Starfall.)

My son has reached a fun age. Most of the time. He is teaching himself how to jump – hilarious. He is already exhibiting a tenacious independent streak – like mother like son. OK. Like his entire genetic line, but I digress.

But at 18 months, he’s reached a place where his receptive language far surpasses his expressive language. In other words, he totally gets it when I say no, but he has no words to express his outrage.

So, he falls out in the floor and cries.

This drives me insane. He needs to learn that being told no is not justification for a tantrum. He needs to learn to obey in spirit as well as in action. He needs to learn that if he falls out in the floor and throws a fit, he’ll be spending some time in “time out” because mommy is NOT going to tolerate this behavior.

So, on a recent morning when he fell out in the floor, I scooped him up in my arms as I commented to my husband that “I will not have a child who behaves this way”. As I carried him into his room, I said to him, quite sternly and parent-like, “James, you are going to have to learn that when Mommy says no, she has a reason for doing so. Just because you don’t understand the reason doesn’t mean you can throw a fit about it.”

And then, as so often happens when I’m having a self-righteous moment, I heard it . . . the Voice.

And I’m telling you, He was laughing as He gently, but firmly, put me in my place.

“Really? You aren’t going to have a child who behaves this way? You think it is inappropriate for a child to throw a fit when he has been told no. You think your son should obey you willingly and without complaint, even when you have made a decision he doesn’t understand? That is very interesting.”

Gulp.

I kissed my son and put him in time out. Then I went and put myself in time out.

How often do I behave like a spiritual 18 month old? How often does God look at me and shake His head and wonder when I will outgrow this infantile behavior. Because I can tell you right now, I’m all for doing God’s will, I just have a tendency . . . OK, a general predisposition . . . OK, I pretty much throw a fit when His will takes me down an unpleasant path. Because I want to know WHY!

     “I’ll obey Lord, just, please, explain it to me.”

     “Father, I want your will for my life, but could you give me a glimpse into the plan, here?

     “This would be so much easier if I understood the logic.”

But just as there is no way for my 18 month old to fully understand my logic, there is no way for me to fully understand the infinite wisdom of God.

But my son can learn to obey even when he doesn’t understand. He can learn to obey without falling out. And he will. Have you ever seen an 18 year old fall down in the floor and cry when his parents tell him no? I hope not.

So what do I do now? I can learn more and more about my Savior. Because the more I know Him, the more I’ll trust Him and the easier the obedience will be.

I guess I need to grow up!

2 Peter 3:18 – Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be the glory both now and to the day of eternity. Amen.

It’s official. I am registered to attend the Blue Ridge Christian Writer’s Conference in May.

What have I done?

Do I belong at a writer’s conference? Is this going to be a colossal waste of resources – both time and money?

Maybe.

But, maybe it will be a fantastic opportunity. It will definitely take me out of my comfort zone. And force me to tell people what I’m up to. It would be rather tricky to pull off a 5 day disappearance without some explanation. And I’m certainly not going to lie about it.

And I’ll have an opportunity to have my work critiqued.

Hmm. Critiques . . .

I’d better get busy!

I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel lost. Unsettled. Deeply unsatisfied.

I have nothing to do.

Don’t misunderstand. I have plenty to do. The ever-present laundry. The dust bunnies throwing a fiesta on every flat surface. The bathrooms – ugh, the bathrooms.

Plenty to do. But no deadline. If the dust bunnies party another few days, no one will mind. We won’t be running around naked if I don’t do laundry. And the bathrooms will continue to serve their purpose regardless.

I’ve been on a deadline for 4 ½ months. Different deadlines, but always something looming. Always a writing assignment due or a Bible study lesson to finish or a committee meeting to prepare for. And let’s just not even talk about the entire month of December. I’m trying to block the horror!

But today, January 11, 2010, I am without a deadline. I submitted my final writing assignment last week. My scrapbooks, while not up-to-date, are much further along thanks to the scrapbooking retreat I returned from last night. My new Bible study doesn’t begin until February. I don’t have to complete anything for my committee meeting on Friday.

Nothing to do. But so many things to think about.

This whole writing thing – where am I going with it? What do I do next? Do I start editing my first novel or should I focus on writing my second novel? Should I take another class or read a few highly recommended books? Should I scrap the whole thing? (Given that I needed to write all this out, the answer to the last question is probably no!)

And my family – what do I want 2010 to look like for them? After months of perpetual frenzy, how do I slow things down? What do I put on the calendar and what should I say no to? How does the writing fit in?

“Be Still and Know that I AM GOD!” is the answer my Abba gives me.

But how on earth am I supposed to do it? How do you just “be still”? I haven’t been still in so long, I’m not sure where to begin.

I do know this . . . the answers to my questions lie in the stillness. The satisfaction I crave lies – not in a café mocha – but in the fountain of living water. So when James goes down for his nap, I’m not going to do be doing anything much.

I am going to be still.

As 2009 draws to a close, I’ve been thinking of all the things I have to be thankful for . . .

For my Heavenly Father – I’m so thankful that even when I am faithless, He remains faithful. That He is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in Spirit. That His grace is sufficient and that He is the only place where I find rest for my soul

For Brian – I’m so thankful I married
– a man who isn’t afraid of hard work and proves it every day
– a man who loves me and his family and proves it every day
– a man who has suffered much but still worships
– a man with a sense of humor – even if it is slightly nuts
– a man who can put up with me – because I doubt anyone else could

For Emma – I’m so thankful for a little girl who
– can tell me she wants cookies for breakfast
– finds joy in french fries
– has memorized every DVD she owns and quotes from them at random moments – I just realized the other day that this is a hereditary trait – her daddy does that too!
– is always happy to see me
– sees the world differently than anybody else and helps me see it that way, too

For James – I am so thankful for a little boy who
– is healthy and smart and blessedly normal
– thinks no one can fix things the way mommy can
– has the sweetest little feet – especially because I know someday those same precious toes I love to kiss will be long and smelly and gross!
– has a favorite word – “Mama”
– finds joy in discovering the world around him – and helps me find that joy, too

I’m thankful for so many random things –

For parents who think I’m doing a good job even when I think I’m blowing it
For parents who think I can do things I’ve never even thought of trying

For a sister who would do anything for me and frequently does

For extended friends and family who love and pray for me

For chocolate

For a mother-in-law who loves me and thinks I’m doing a good job

For friends who invested hours of time they didn’t have to help me pursue some crazy dreams

Right now, my 15 month old son’s favorite word is “mama”. This thrills me in a way I find difficult to describe. My daughter was born with a rare genetic syndrome and speech has been an elusive and hard-fought skill. I didn’t hear “mama” from her until she was 3. While other mothers bemoan the frequency with which they hear “mama” during the day, I marvel at intricacies, the thousands of brain functions that all have to happen just right in my son’s brain, in order for me to hear those sounds. I revel in the miracle of speech.

So, when my little man says mama . . . mama . . . mama . . . mama . . . mama, I answer “yes” every time. We are hardly to the point of having a conversation, but I want him to know, even now, that when he calls to me, I will answer him. Most of the time, he doesn’t need anything. He’s just checking in. He simply wants to be reassured of my presence, of my nearness. Of my readiness to step in when life get overwhelming.

And just now, as I said yes . . . yes . . . yes . . . in response, I wondered. I wondered about my Abba, Father. I wondered if maybe He was wishing I would call out to him more frequently. If, just maybe, He also revels in the miracle of speech. Particularly when one of His creation calls to Him. And I wondered if He longs to hear me call to Him, not only when I need something, but just to check in. Just to say Hi. Just for the reassurance of His presence, His nearness. Of His Everlasting Arms, eternally ready to hold me when life gets overwhelming.

Abba . . . Abba . . . Abba . . .

And in my spirit, I hear Him answer – Yes!

Am I a writer?

I’m not sure!

I’ve written a book. I think most people would consider this simple fact adequate justification for calling myself a writer. Except for the teensy little fact that most people (fewer than 10 at last count) have no idea I’ve written a book.

And, I’m 35 and just now diving in to this strange world. Prior to this year, I’ve rarely felt the compulsion to pull the words from my head and put them onto the page. Aren’t I a little old to suddenly feel the need to write? Doesn’t this insanity usually afflict people at a much younger age?

But, as I started thinking about it, I remembered that there have been times when I simply had to write. And, the desire to write is beginning to feel more and more like a compulsion, maybe – yikes – even a calling. I’m not sure what to make of it. I’m not sure what’s happening. But it is happening.

In March, I sat down and started writing a book. I finished the initial draft in August. I submitted it to a contest at the end of September. I started taking a writing class. I’ve started another book. Just last week, I felt the need to write a non-fiction piece about a very difficult time in my life. I came in, put my sweet son down for his nap, and totally ignored the laundry and housework until the words were staring back at me from the screen. It was compulsory. And I loved it.

But, what I particularly love is what happened today. A dear friend is hurting. And the words I wrote a week ago were the exact words I wanted to say to her. So I sent them her way. And I’m loving the idea that the Lord may have had me write them last week so she can read them this week.

Is the reason I shy away from calling myself a writer embarrassment? Fear of rejection? Fear of failure? Fear of commitment?

Yes – to all.

But, whether I’m prepared to call myself a writer or not, I’m still writing. And I’m just wondering where it is all going to lead.

Stay up to date

Get Lynn’s Newsletter

Special treat! Sign up and get a free novella

Subscribe