2007 January | Staci Wilder

Archive for January, 2007

January 31, 2007 @ 6:15 am | Filed under: Uniquely Me,Wordless Wednesday

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January 30, 2007 @ 2:52 pm | Filed under: Uniquely Me

And Samuel said unto Jesse, Are here all thy children? And he said, There remaineth yet the youngest, and, behold, he keepeth the sheep. And Samuel said unto Jesse, Send and fetch him: for we will not sit down till he come hither.

And he sent, and brought him in. Now he was ruddy, and withal of a beautiful countenance, and goodly to look to. And the Lord said, Arise, anoint him: for this is he.

I Samuel 16:11-12
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Quite a while back my pastor preached a sermon from this text. I’m thinking about it again this afternoon. Even though I’ve heard these scriptures preached from many angles before, this one focused on an area I don’t think I’ve ever really stopped to consider before. And, as the sermon continued, it spoke directly to an issue I’ve struggled with from time to time.

Both Samuel and Jesse went into this process with a certain set of expectations, or ways they thought God would move. Samuel thought it would be an older son of Jesse’s, maybe Eliab or, if not him, quite surely Abinadab, right? These sons possessed the "qualifications" Samuel felt were required to be the next King of Israel. And Jesse, of course, had gathered together those of his sons he felt bore those same "qualifications."

They had all the markings of a great leader.

All but one.

They weren’t God’s chosen.

Instead, He wanted David, a little shepherd boy, not yet grown, and certainly not what folks thought of as "King material." But God wasn’t looking for perfection, he was looking for someone to accept His anointing.

Someone not afraid to embrace that anointing. Someone with a desire for God. Someone with courage enough to walk by faith into the fight of his life, slaying giants in the process.

Someone like David, who’d long ago learned the blessing of what true worship was all about.

How does this relate to the issue in my own life?

Sometimes I’m held prisoner by my own feelings of inadequacy as a writer. Scared silly by the "restrictions" and "rules" that seem to govern the lives of writers these days. Knowing I’m meant to write, but still holding out for the day when "I’m a real writer." When others see and acknowledge the writer within, therefore validating this calling, this anointing. But it’s a vicious cycle because what happens is a form of paralyzation, of being caught in that perpetual state of "when this happens" or "if only" and – in the end – days and weeks and sometimes even months pass without any real productivity.

Yes, the anointing is still there.

But it can’t work until I find the courage to move forward into the fight of my life. Only then will I be able to slay giants and become the woman God anointed years ago.

David was anointed King and then continued to live the life of a shepherd boy, patiently waiting for God’s timing. For that one "right" moment when he would step forward and rule the kingdom of Israel. But it wasn’t a barren time – just the opposite. Every battle, every challenge, every obstacle that David encountered only served to strengthen him. These struggles prepared him for the life he was destined to live. The life of a King.

But, first and foremost, the life of a soul dedicated to the purpose God bestowed on him.

I’m destined to write stories that will minister to the souls that absorb them. I’m not the perfect writer. I don’t necessarily have the qualifications to make me that perfect writer. When folks look at me, I may not be what they envision as a prolific writer.

But God’s not looking for perfection in me any more than He did in David.

He wants me to accept my anointing.

Then wait on His timing.

I’m trying, Lord. Trying to accept your timing.

And waiting.

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January 26, 2007 @ 11:51 am | Filed under: Books

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January 25, 2007 @ 9:06 pm | Filed under: Uniquely Me

"I think that, somehow, we learn who we really are and then live with that decision." – Eleanor Roosevelt

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Okay, so turnabout is definitely fair play. So I’ll tell you something about me that you don’t already know. Or – if your name is Rochelle – you do already know this and have tried to use this piece of info to mess with my psyche. (And you thought I didn’t notice…!)

I was brushing my teeth one morning and heard Mike come into the bedroom. While I rinsed and spit and brushed again, I could tell by the rustling sounds in the next room that he was…making the bed! This was good, very good, right?

You’d think so.

I walked into the bedroom, with clean, shiny teeth, fresh breath, and big ‘ol thank you on my lips for my husband who had so selflessly, so sweetly—–

WHAT IN THE WORLD?

Here is where I probably need to insert a disclaimer. "Hi, my name is Staci and I’m a throwpill-aholic." The proper definition would go something like this: n. a person (usually a Type A) who cannot go about her day if throw pillows on bed are out of place or skewed.

Simply. must. fix.

My dear, sweet husband had not only made the bed, but had also thrown down a gauntlet. He stood in wait, a silly grin of glee crawling across his face as I walked in and witnessed his "gift."

"Leave them."

Just the thought of leaving those pillows tossed every which way but the right way was enough to start the twitching. So there I am, with clean teeth, fresh breath, twitches, and a smiling husband who thinks the whole episode is a total riot.

"I bet you can’t go the whole day without rearranging them."

See, the man loves a challenge. But didn’t the Diet Coke challenge teach him a thing or two about my will power? Don’t tell me I can’t do something because, by George, I’m going. to. do. it. Twitches, or no.

Just so you know, I did go the entire day without once touching the throw pillows on the bed. Sometimes the key to winning a challenge is to simply walk away. After all, you can’t touch something you can’t see.

So now you know something about me that you probably didn’t already know.

I’m a throwpill-aholic.

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January 23, 2007 @ 8:51 pm | Filed under: Soul Food

"Tell me something about you that I don’t already know."

Every now and then Mike will still ask me this question – the same question he asked on a regular basis when we were dating and first married. That question alone was the catalyst for me opening up and admitting to him that I loved to write. That I wanted to be a writer.

Since then, I’ve tried using that mechanism in some of my other surroundings and with friends and family. At Bonnie’s surprise birthday party this past year, we learned 50 (yikes, just gave away which birthday it was) new facts about Bonnie that we didn’t already know.

At our WOW (Women of Worth) meeting at church last month, we opened up with an ice-breaker. The mission was to find two people that you didn’t talk to on a regular basis and discover five new things about them, and them share them with the entire audience.

The response is always the same. People are elated at what they discover. I think it is somehow liberating to have someone look at you and say, "I want to know more. I already know you’re married. Or that you have 2.5 children. And that you drive a Black Ford SUV. But I want to know about you."

I think if we were to take the time to delve deeper and care a little more, we would be amazed at the conversations that would unfold and the relationships that would be strengthened. This applies to husband/wife relationships, parent/child relationships, friendships, and family ties.

I was so moved when I read this earlier today over at Sarah’s. This is a brother and sister talking. He is an associate pastor at a local metroplex church and she and her husband live in Australia. This is yet another example of how much "soul food" we can receive from just from the words that come from the lips of those around us…when we take the time to delve deeper. To care more.

So now I have a question for YOU.

Tell me something about you that I don’t already know.

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January 22, 2007 @ 10:09 pm | Filed under: It's a Girl Thing

"I am a woman above everything else."

I’m borrowing these words from Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, as a way to justify this totally girl-thang post. So for the men in my life who occasionally pop in here to see what’s new or inspirational, well…I hope you’ll allow me to explore these thoughts that have been rolling around in my head today. (Yeah, I know…scary!)

Here’s how it started.

About four or five months ago I found a purse that I’m thinking I. must. have.

For those of you who really know me, you’re aware that I am SO not a purse/shoe/accessory freak. I love nice things and have some nice things. But I am a bargain-hunter-downer and part of the thrill for me is thinking that "I’ve beaten the system", so to speak, when I find a really great deal. I conveniently ignore the fact that the store is not losing money on me as I’d prefer to think, but that my "great deal" only serves as evidence that the retail markup on clothes/shoes/purses/accessories is just astronomical.

Criminal, really.

All that said, I did find this bag that…well, quite honestly, it was all but calling my name. Seriously.

No, really.

This very seldom happens to me. And particularly not in this way. See, it’s not just a purse. It’s a Coach bag.

To be absolutely specific, it’s the Coach Signature Stripe Reversible Tote…a sporty, reversible Coach tote of signature jacquard fabric with a bold denim stripe. Dogleash-clip closure opens to a lined interior with a keyring clip, zip pocket, and matching luggage tag.

Yeah, I’ve looked at it just a few times, haven’t I?

I think I’ve surprised several of my friends. I dragged Cheryl through Macy’s back in November to *look* at it, and then I talked Dawn into going into the Coach store just last month in search of it. My friends have never seen me really want a purse. Not like this.

I’m practical to a fault. Many years of living on a shoestring taught me to save my pennies and think twice before committing to a major purchase. And now, when I could purchase it, I suppose, I’m just having a difficult time wrapping my mind around the impracticality of it.

Ordinarily, I would never think of a purse as a major purchase. I’ve never spent more than $36 on a purse before. Really. And that was the bag I carried all last summer that my friend – Rochelle – affectionately dubbed my "carry-on luggage."

To me, spending much more than that on a purse is huge. I mean, shoes I’ll keep and wear for ages. But purses? In my experience, I guess I’ve been a commitment phobe. I’m fickle with my purses. I tire of them. Or I think I love them and then I’ll turn on them. You know what I mean?

Purchasing a Coach bag would mean finally commiting to…a purse. I mean, friends, really now. When we spend that much money on a person, that’s means there’s a relationship involved, am I right? So am I ready to settle down with one purse? And how do I know for sure that I am ready? Is there Coach counseling available for women like me?

I’m thinking that since this attraction to this one bag is not going away, and I have introduced my friends to it, that maybe – just maybe – I. am. ready.

Last night at church, my friend, Holly, suggested I try eBay. I promptly logged on right after getting home and you know what? I found it! The sad thing is that it is relatively new on the scene and, after paying shipping charges, I’d still be basically in the same price range. Which leads me to my next moral challenge. If it really is THE purse for me, shouldn’t I be able to wait until next season when I can get it for a discount? Or is real infatuation worth full price?

These are my questions for you. Help me decide, please! When is a commitment to a frivolity just too much? When is a whim acceptable? And can something in the triple digits actually qualify as a whim?

I can’t wait to hear the advice you all have for me. Until then, I remain soulfully…unattached to any bag…!

18 comments

January 19, 2007 @ 5:13 pm | Filed under: Books

I swallowed a healthy dose of self-discipline each and every morning this week. Between that and the super-glue that I applied to both my backside and my desk chair, I somehow managed to write my daily word count, even on days when I had classes. I’m thinking a party’s in order, what do you all think?

Here’s the kicker. Now that I *know* it can be done, I’m having to deposit all my really great-sounding excuses right where they belong – in the proverbial trash can. No more blaming homework, or laundry, or projects, or grocery shopping, or… (Are you getting the picture yet?)

Beginning a story for me is like trying to decide how best to eat an elephant. It’s overwhelming, and feels nigh near impossible. You’d think the fact that I have six more completed novels behind me that I would have figured out by now that the new story is, not only possible, but very probable.

But there is just something about a big ‘ol blank page that sends me reeling every. single. time. This week was no different. So I did the only thing I knew to do. I talked to God and told Him how I felt about it all. I know I’m supposed to write. I know I’m supposed to write THIS story. And in the way that only He can, He gently nudged me forward.

I began to type. I allowed the story to form in my mind and then did my best to capture it on my keyboard. Soon that blank page was filled and a new blank page scrolled in. By the time I had hit page five or six I no longer viewed or thought of the pages as empty. My God truly amazes me.

Today is Day Five of Finding Faith and the word count for this week is 5252. While this is still the very beginning, my heart is rejoicing tonight. I’m also feeling a little sheepish. ‘Cause it’s official, folks – I’ve been a slacker!

It turns out that I CAN do a couple loads of laundry, write, attend a few classes, write a couple of papers, and be a loving wife, mother, daughter, and friend.

I think my guys are in the other room right now wondering if I can add COOK to this list. Who do they think I am? Wonderwoman?

Oh, all right. I’ll see what I can whip up…

13 comments

January 18, 2007 @ 3:07 pm | Filed under: Books

As you know, I started Finding Faith this week. For those of you who read Saving Grace, you might remember Marshall, Grace’s childhood friend from her days at Sycamore Manor. This is the story of Marshall and Faith.

Faith Chandler, thirty-two, wakes up one morning to one of the greatest fears known to women. An illness she feels ill equipped to handle. Immediately, her mind and emotions begin a tug-of-war, one invoking rationalization, the other – sheer panic. An enthusiastic junior high school English teacher, Faith’s future – the one she thought she had forever to plan – seems suddenly overcast. Desperate to create some kind of logic out of the myriad of emotional chaos, Faith begins the journey to find answers to her past. This journey leads her to the front door of Sycamore Manor.

Thirty-six year old Marshall Morgan finds fulfillment in his work. The CEO and director of the teen pregnancy home founded by his late grandmother, he takes pride in what he’s come to view as a ministry of sorts. Still, there’s a vacancy in his heart, a place for a special woman that the Lord has yet to reveal to him. And then…there is his secret, the one he intends to share with no one, except the woman who will one day become his wife. When petite, dark-haired Faith Chandler walks through his door, searching for answers to her past, he wonders if – at last – he is meeting the woman who will make his life complete.

As always seems to happen, I become very emotionally involved in my characters’ lives. I can’t really explain how this happens. Believe me, on Monday when I started this story, I was still clueless to a lot of bits and pieces that were still missing from this story. I always begin a story with faith of my own. Faith that somehow, sometime, the story will come together and will ultimately be the book it was intended to be.

Today is the fourth day of writing and already Marshall and Faith are speaking to me. I’m feeling their issues: her fear, his lonliness, and the sparks of hope that alight whenever God places someone in our life to help illuminate the path of uncertainty.

The song, I Will Praise You in This Storm, by Casting Crowns, has been on my mind since Monday. I can’t seem to get it out of my head so, quite simply, it has become the "theme song" for Marshall and Faith’s story.

I hope it speaks to you as much as it speaks to me…