Archive for July, 2006

July 12, 2006 @ 3:04 pm | Filed under: Current Affairs

"An aim in life is the only fortune worth the finding; and it is not to be found in foreign lands, but in the heart itself." — Robert Louis Stevenson

In 1986 I read a book that moved me. The kind of book that inspires from page one, that grabs hold of you, heart and soul and, when the last paragraph is read, you reluctantly close the book, breathe deeply, and investigate the emotions it created inside of you.

Peter Jenkins, author of A Walk Across America and The Walk West, did that for me. As a high school senior, I was on the cusp of something intangible, yet exciting, and felt like the world was mine for the taking. Reading Peter’s journals about his trek across America and the kaleidoscope of people and cultures he not only encountered, but immersed himself in, made my heart beat just a tad bit faster.

People who take big bites out of life and then relish the flavors of their discoveries continue to inspire me. I love the fact that there are still folks in the world who truly care about humanity and its condition and aren’t afraid to step outside the box of what is normal or expected and dare to leave an imprint that will be read about and marveled over for weeks or months or years to come.

Which brings me to the one red paperclip. On July 12, 2005, Kyle MacDonald wrote the following post on a brand new blog:

This might not surprise you, but below is a picture of a paperclip. It is red. This red paperclip is currently sitting on my desk next to my computer. I want to trade this paperclip with you for something bigger or better, maybe a pen, a spoon, or perhaps a boot.

If you promise to make the trade I will come and visit you, wherever you are, to trade. So, if you have something bigger or better than a red paperclip to trade, email me with the details at oneredpaperclip@gmail.com Hope to trade with you soon!

PS I’m going to make a continuous chain of ‘up trades’ until I get a house. Or an Island. Or a house on an island. You get the idea.

Well, today - July 12, 2006 - exactly one year later, Kyle MacDonald will trade with the town of Kipling Saskatchewan for a recently renovated, historic, 1100 square foot house on Main St.

Remember, he started with one red paperclip. And now he has a house.

But the real tale, and the part that inspires me, is the journey of the past 365 days. His quest led him to people he’d ordinarily never come across, it gave him entry into segments of society and culture that traditionally house walls of protection, and it illuminated the very spirit of what I love about humanity - the capacity to reach out and make connections.

To extend yourself to others without fear - or maybe in spite of the fear - and begin to generate a current of good faith and generosity that, in turn, creates a trickle-down effect, must be rewarding. Life-changing even.

Just think. If one man can take one red paperclip and the zany notion that he could begin a bartering process that would ultimately reap him a house, then how much more can one Christian do?

One Christian, one Truth, and the not-so-zany notion that we can, indeed, take the whole gospel to the whole world.

July 10, 2006 @ 6:12 pm | Filed under: Family

Mike thinks vanilla ice cream is medicinal.

Really.

Whenever he’s feeling poorly, or his allergies kick in, or he develops a cold, it’s always the same request.

"All I need is a bowl of vanilla ice cream, please."

Come to think of it, he says the same thing whenever he’s feeling healthy, or happy, or…you’re getting the idea, right?

So imagine my surprise (not!) this past Saturday morning when he broke his self-imposed ice cream ban. We walked the aisles of Tom Thumb, discussing our food needs for the upcoming week since my mother-in-law would be coming to spend a few days with us.

"I’d better get a gallon of vanilla. Mother likes a bowl of ice cream at night."

Uh-huh. Whatever you need to tell yourself, mister.

But you know what? His mom has been here for three days and I think she really does enjoy vanilla ice cream every bit as much as Mike does. Maybe it’s a genetic thing, I’m not quite sure.

It’s entertaining though.

We’d just pulled out of a neighborhood restaurant parking lot on Saturday night, where we’d taken her to get some good ol’ home cooked vegetables. I think I can safely say that we were all very full, very content, after hefty portions of grilled fish (me), meatloaf (Mike), and chicken fried steak (my mom-in-law). But scarcely two minutes after leaving Georgie’s Chow House parking lot, Mike suddenly made a sharp left-hand turn…into McDonald’s.

We pulled through the drive-thru and I just shook my head in amusement as Mike ordered two orders (after all, they are two for a dollar!) of apple pies. I twisted around, glancing back at my mother-in-law in the back seat.

"Your son is crazy, you know that?"

Her eyes lit up and a wide smile creased her face. "Yeah, but they’ll be real good with that vanilla ice cream back home."

If you’re looking for the moral of this story, then I guess it’s this:

Ice cream. It’s good for what ails ya.

(And apparently for everything else too.)

July 9, 2006 @ 4:10 pm | Filed under: Family

My cell phone rang last night at five ’till ten. I saw my son-in-law’s mobile number on caller ID and answered the phone, expecting to hear either his or Amy’s voice on the other end of the line.

Instead I hear excited toddler chatter, complete with enthusiastic voice inflection, laughs, and a full three minutes of non-stop one-sided, totally unintelligible conversation.

"Hi, Kendall," I tried to get in a word edgewise, "What are you doing up at ten o’clock, baby girl?"

In response, she launches into another excited conversation and I walk through the house to find Mike and my mother-in-law, pointing to the phone and mouthing, it’s Kendall. Mike stands close and we both listen with mile-wide grins as Kendall goes from one sentence to the next with scarcely a breath in between.

If only we had the smallest clue what she was saying…

Finally she seems to be coming to the end of her story and there is the briefest of pauses and then she says, as clear as a bell, "Okay, Nana…?  Okay."

We still had no clue what she’d been describing to us. Or asking us. Or even complaining about.

But, in her mind, it was settled.

Okay…? Okay.

And my response?

Well, sure, I did what any self-respecting, card-carrying Nana would do in this circumstance.

"Okay, honey. Okay."

What did I agree to? I’m still not sure. But when your two-year-old granddaughter has just thrilled you with an out-of-the-blue phone call, excitedly filling you in on her little personal parcel of the world, ending with, "Okay, Nana? Okay," you’ll say whatever you think her sweet heart wants or needs to hear.

I wonder if that is how God feels sometimes when I come to Him, excitedly relaying in great detail my thoughts, my ideas, my plans. With definite, if not infinite, patience, He listens, gently allowing me to pour my heart and soul out to Him.

And then He says, as only He can, "Okay, my child, okay."

It will be a couple more years before Kendall can truly express to us all the wonderful things that play across her mind and intersect her life. Right now we smile and laugh and are thrilled to hear the excitement in her voice. We don’t know what her plans are. We don’t know the thoughts that run across the playground of her mind.

But we encourage her to dream big.

Sometimes it takes me a while to truly express to God the wonderful things that bubble inside of me. But I can sense Him smiling and I think He’s probably thrilled to hear excitement in my voice.

It’s yet to be discovered if my plans or thoughts or dreams will ever see fruition.

But He encourages me to dream big.

July 6, 2006 @ 7:49 pm | Filed under: Thursday Thirteen

"Make no little plans; they have no magic to stir people’s blood and probably will not themselves be realized. Make big plans; aim high in hope and work. Remember that your children and grandchildren are going to do things that would stagger us. Let your watchword be order and your beacon beauty."  —Daniel H. Burnham, 1910

Remember that expression, "I’ve got too many balls up in the air"?

Some days I feel like I’m keeping the Post-it company in business with all the little reminders and notes I have plastered around. But even as I added yet another "to-do" to my list today, I couldn’t help but think, balls are rubber, right?

If I do drop one (or two or three…or more) they’ll merely bounce and I can catch them on the rebound (or the bounce after that or the bounce after that.)

The important thing is to live life fully. Do your best. Love deeply. Play fairly. Pray hard.

Dates are just numbers on a calendar. It’s the moments that fill our days that really count.

1. July 9th. Our first Open House. Hopefully we’ll have several interested buyers.
2. July 9th - 13th. Wendy (my agent) is in Denver this week for ICRS. She’ll be pitching Melrose Miracle and just say no! to various editors. Really, I especially covet your prayers during these days, and I know Wendy does as well.
3. July 14th. Mike’s birthday! (Is my husband looking young, or what? Honest-to-goodness, I think the man has tapped into the fountain of youth, or something!)
4. July 29th & 30th. Carter and Kendall are staying the weekend with us. We haven’t done this in a while so Pops and Nana are looking forward to it! We get to bring them to church with us on that Sunday and that’s always fun and adventurous!
5. August 2nd. Nate’s tuition payment to SHSU is due. Yowsa! Writing the big checks kind of makes his college career very real!
6. August 6th. Saving Grace goes to press!
7. August 9th - 11th. I’ll be in Louisville, Kentucky, for NALC (North American Ladies Conference). Saving Grace will be making its public debut here. Very exciting! But you know me, my knees are already knocking!
8. August 16th. We move Nate into his dorm at SHSU. (Send tissues, please, I’ll need them.)
9. August 21st. Nate’s first ever day of college classes. Jordan also starts his senior year at Rockwall today. I’m so proud!
10. August 30th. My first day of <big gulp> college classes. I’m so…scared.
11. September 8th - 10th. Fredericksburg with friends!
12. September 15th. This is my target date for completing the first draft of The Revival. This is the first book in The Closer Walk series and it’s very important to me. Very close to my heart.
13. September 21st - 24th. ACFW’s fifth annual conference will be in Dallas this year! Normally I look forward Denver or Nashville each fall for this writer’s get-away but, since I’ll have just returned from Louisville, it works out well all the way around. Plus I get to share the sights and sounds of Dallas with my out-of-town friends.

July 5, 2006 @ 6:17 am | Filed under: Uncategorized

I’ve been privileged to meet many wonderful people through my writing groups. One of these is Tricia Goyer, a fellow ACFW member.

I first became acquainted with Tricia several years ago when her debut novel, From Dust and Ashes, was about to be released. It was immediately apparent to me that Tricia was allowing God to direct her writing career and I felt a kindred spirit with her.

The fourth and final installment in this dynamic World War II series, Arms of Deliverance, is being released. One of you will win a free copy. Just leave a comment for Tricia or me and you’ll automatically be entered. The drawing will take place on July 31st.

Now…meet Tricia and hear all the "behind the scenes" facts on this fascinating story.. You’ll soon want to add this novel to your "must read" stack! And click here for the first riveting chapter of Arms of Deliverance.

_____________________

The fourth and final novel in this exhilarating series capturing the tales of men and women swept into World War II. Two friends, Mary and Lee, land similar reporting jobs at the New York Tribune on the eve of the war’s outbreak and soon they become competitors. Mary’s coverage of a bombing raid over Germany leads to a plane wreck and an adventurous escape attempt from across enemy lines. And when Lee hears of Mary’s plight, she bravely heads to war-torn Europe in an effort to help rescue her friend. Will there be enough time for diplomacy or will war get the best of everyone?

Arms of Deliverance: The Story Behind the Novel

The Idea:

The idea for Arms of Deliverance came one day as I was researching for my novel Night Song. I was watching a video that talked about Lebensborn homes in Nazi Europe. These were homes where young women birthed children for the Reich. After all, to have a "Thousand Year Reich" the Germans needed future Aryans. That was the first layer of the story.

The second layer came when I was researching my novel, Dawn of a Thousand Nights. First, I was studying these amazing women who risked their lives during WWII. (Dawn of a Thousand Nights involved female pilots who ferried US planes around the country.) Other brave women who risked their lives were female war reporters, and I knew I wanted to write a story about them. This sparked my interest too.

Throw in my intrigue of B-17 bomber crews over Europe, and you have the first three elements of Arms of Deliverance. The fourth is a Nazi officer in search for…well, you’ll have to read the novel to find out!

The Research:

The first thing I did when I started researching was to check to see if I could find any veterans who were there. I got a hold of an amazing group of men with the 91st Bomb Group. I couldn’t have asked for a better group of guys. You can check out their website at www.91stbombgroup.com . Be sure to take time to look at the photos and read the TRUE stories from the 91st!

The men gave me all types of information. They gave me details of exact flights, actual photographs from that time, and they shared their personal experiences and stories.

Of course, God always surprises me with "abundantly more than I ask for or imagine" when it comes to research for these stories. Here’s one of those God-gifts:

One thing you may remember from photos of old bombers is the nose art, which highlighted the bomber’s name. During my writing, I kept praying for the perfect name for my bomber–something to tie into the book.

During my research I met a veteran from the 91st Bomb Group named Jack Gaffney. Out of the blue, Jack suggested I use the name "Destiny’s Child." (This came years before the music group!) You see, Jack was a ground crew member and a nose-art artist. He painted the nose art "Destiny’s Child" and other B-17 Bombers.

At the time, Jack had no idea that the premise of my novel included the Lebensborn homes and a special child. Is that cool, or what?!

To see Jack’s nose art, go here: http://www.91stbombgroup.com/destinyc.html

The Writer:

I have to say that I am changed in some way by every novel I write, and this one moved me deeply. You see, as I wrote about the rescue of a special child, I had no idea what God had in store for me and my family.

One month after the novel was written, my husband and I sat down to discuss something that had been on my heart for a while - the adoption of another child. I won’t give the story behind the novel away, but as I reread it I could clearly see through my written words what God had already been placing on my heart.

I will keep news of our adoption of a baby girl from China updated on my blog www.genxparents.blogspot.com .

What’s Next from Tricia Goyer:

Currently, I’m working on my fifth novel, A Valley of Betrayal. It is the first novel in a three-book series on The Spanish Civil War, which took place in Spain, pre-World War II.

Of course, there is more to my life than fiction. I’m also a wife, mom, mentor, and a children’s church leader, and I also write about these aspects of my life. Generation NeXt Parenting will hit store shelves in September 2006.

If you’re a parent, like me, check it out!

July 4, 2006 @ 2:59 pm | Filed under: Uncategorized

"The strongest principle of growth lies in human choice." — George Eliot

Riley boarded the plane with a heavy heart.

It was almost as though a part of herself wasn’t making the journey home willingly. Instead, a noose had wrapped itself around her heart, and now she was once again prisoner to emotions she thought sure she had laid to rest years before.

Even as the massive 747 left the runway and took to the sky, Riley sat with forehead pressed to the window, eyes closed, wondering if there was anything she could have said or done that brought on the change in Ethan. Her mind replayed the past few days, over and over again, in a desperate attempt to dissect where things might have gone wrong.

Even though they’d walked away from one another years ago, the love hadn’t gone away. It never would, of that much Riley was certain.

The man made her a better person - even if he did live on the opposite side of the country. He was the boy who knew the little girl inside of her, and catered to the dreams in her heart that refused to die. He got her, pure and simple, and she got him.

She’d come back home to Maine for her sister’s wedding but, deep in her heart, she’d only looked forward to this past week because it meant she’d get to see Ethan again. But Ethan had spent the better part of the past three days trying his best to avoid her. She’d seen more of the back of his crisply starched white shirts than she’d seen of his face.

At first she’d been confused. But then she’d remembered his words to her from years before.

Why put ourselves through this agony, Riles? He had shrugged then and her heart had twisted at the mixture of longing and regret she’d seen in his eyes. It’s like loving candy and going to the candy store every day, but never being able to buy anything. Torture, that’s what it is.

Riley understood this. It didn’t change anything, and yet it changed everytbing. She got it, just like she always got him. She knew that his place was here in Maine, just as strongly as she recognized that her own place was on the opposite coast.

Now the wedding was behind her, she’d said her good-byes to her family, and she was on her way home.

Home. San Francisco. Three-thousand, three-hundred and sixteen miles from the spot she’d called home for most of her life. Completely cross-country from Ethan.

But, if Riley had learned one thing in the past decade - and she’d learned plenty - it was that she never felt closer to Ethan than when she was on her knees.

Prayer was the one place where it all made sense. Where confirmation flowed again and again that she was in the perfect willl of God, as was Ethan.

The younger Riley would have fought to have it all, and did, for quite a long while. But the more mature Riley had found that great peace comes with great acceptance.

Acceptance of God’s will.

Nothing else mattered.

She remembered the day her aging grandmother had pulled out a beautiful piece of tapestry, and pointed to the ornate flowers and trees that formed an oasis around a rambling white farmhouse.

"See how perfectly these threads form this picture, Riley?" She had searched Riley’s face, making sure she had her full attention. Then she had turned the tapestry over and lovingly fingered the delicate strands of brightly colored threads that ran like little rivers in all directions, with no apparent purpose or direction.

"This is the real beauty, Riley. This side is where the story is." Bony fingers had pointed to the various knots and bits of thread that seemed to start and stop and then start again.

"Life is like the backside of this tapestry, Riley. We have starts and stops. We encounter snags and bumps and even breaks. But if the person who created this beautiful tapestry had given up in defeat, then look at the beauty that would have been missed."

Grandmother had looked at Riley then and, though she didn’t fully understand it that day so many years ago, Riley had sat spell-bound by the wonder in her grandmother’s voice.

"We won’t necessarily see all the beauty life is gifting us with right away. Maybe never, this side of heaven. But we have to trust that with every dropped stitch, with every start and stop, that something magnificent is being created on the tapestry of our life."

Now, as the plane leveled off somewhere high above the place she’d called home for so many years, Riley finally understood.

She had no idea what the eventual picture of her life would look like. But with God as the master artist, she trusted that all the pieces of thread that seemed to often not make any sense to her were, instead, forming a most marvelous tapestry.

"Go live your life, Ethan." She whispered the words as the cinch around her heart seemed to loosen, allowing her to once again breathe deep and free. "Be the man God called you to be."

Riley wanted it no other way.

_________________________

an excerpt from Raising Riley