A Deadline Come and Gone

by Mare Ball  Adventures in the Ballpark

Wow.  I haven't done any work on my WIP for almost three weeks.  This is the longest amount of time I've not looked at it in a year.   Here are my excuses:

Christmas celebrations ate a good week.
I got a cold/sinus/flu-type bug that knocked me flat for another week  (I'm STILL hacking.)
I went to see Frozen and Catching  Fire.
I ate too many Christmas cookies.
I lost my motivation.

I beat myself up about it for a couple days....and then, today, I sat down at the computer and opened my book proposal file.  That led me to check some other files, which led me to my blog, and then this blog.  I read in a former post that my goal was to finish my book by November 30.

That bummed me out.  My book is 75% done, not 100% done.  How did I end up at January 10 with a still incomplete book? 

I paused a long time before I wrote this sentence.  Because, I don't have an answer.  I don't know what happened.  Life happened.  Stuff that was not writing stuff.  Good things, and frustrating things, and time-consuming things.  I don't know.

However - I do know this: every day, before I'm out of bed, I talk to Jesus in my head and thank him for my cozy bed and the rest I just gained.  I reflect on the day before me, running through what I need to do - and I ask for His guidance and His blessings.  I invite Him into my day.  I relish that quiet time to connect with my Creator and just be still and be grateful.  I don't get up until I feel closure on that time.

Then I groan my way out from under the covers and face the day, whatever it's going to be.  I always have somewhat of a plan, but God likes to throw a wrench in that often, so I've learned to be flexible.

And here's what I've concluded:  In God's view of my life, whatever my day entails, He is pleased if I'm honoring Him.  If I'm doing my best to be patient and sacrificial and grateful, if I'm using my gifts to help others....He's smiling.  Whether I'm writing, or not.  Sometimes I'm writing, sometimes I'm cleaning toilets.  Sometimes I'm taking Dad to the doctor, or trying to make leftover hamburger and goat cheese into something suitable for dinner. In God's eyes, what I'm doing is secondary to how I'm doing it.

I might be bummed about not meeting a writing deadline - a personal goal of mine - but God looks at everything I do.  And to Him, the writing tasks and the non-writing tasks are equal.  So whatever else I spent time on that kept me from meeting my November deadline....it was important too.  Time with family, movies with my girl, even sleeping for a week to knock out a nasty virus.  They were not insignificant events.  They were just not writing events.

I want to keep my writing in perspective.   I want to do my best, of course, to complete my book and get it published.  I pray for God's blessing on that.  But, I don't want to feel guilty or beat myself up if I fail to meet to a self-imposed deadline.  I simply want to do the best I can every day, at whatever I'm doing.  Writing is important, but it's not more important than everything else.

Now....my next deadline to complete my book is February 28.  We'll see how that plays out.

How do you feel about failing to meet a deadline?

Finding Your Write Calling in Life

by: Lacey Gunter

I used to hate writing. I would always put it off until the last possible moment. It wasn't that I was particularly bad at it. I just would have preferred to have dental work done over writing an essay.

For so long I have been known as one of those math geeks. You know, the kind of person who claims numbers are a universal language (which they are, by the way). Moreover, I am a statistics instructor. So you can imagine how baffled I was when I got hit with the writer's bug last year.

Why in the world would I want to write books?!? I'm supposed to be analyzing data somewhere in a windowless basement, off by myself.  And, anyway, who would want to read a book written by a stats instructor? We don't even enjoy reading our own kind of books, most of the time.

Yet there it was, somewhere deep down inside, pestering me. "You should try writing. Just one little, teeny, tiny book. What's the big deal? You can do it!" And none of my logic and reasoning could make it go away.

So, I finally decided to give in, but only on the condition that it actually be a teeny, tiny book. That way my pain would be over quick and I could get back to what I knew I liked and was good at.

So a picture book it was. Luckily I had already done a lot of research in this area, reading countless numbers of picture books to my kiddos, over and over and over. And really, how hard could be, a few words here, a picture there, cute little story, slap it all together, done!

Well, not quite.

Turns out, picture book writing is rather difficult. How many really great stories have you told that can be written in only about 500 words? Every word counts.  Not to mention it's got to have a solid beginning, middle and end, should contain a conflict and a resolution, and needs to be able to keep the interest of a fidgety, easily distracted child. Yikes, it's starting to sounds like an impossible college final exam paper! Where's the door?

So, it should have been a big flop, right? One of those crazy ideas that pops in you head, you try it out and later think "where did that come from?"

Wrong again! Turns out the idea was just write. I loved it!!! And now I can't stop.  My only plausible explanation is someone up there knows more about us than we think we know about ourselves.  Good thing he loves us enough to show us. And maybe tomorrow you'll wake up a math genius. You never know, stranger things have happened.

Accidental Blessings

Sometimes life intervenes, and the plans you had...well, they just don't matter anymore.

My plan to write a post for MMW this week changed when our daughter was in a car accident last week.  In another state.

I needed to write about it, but it took me a week to process it.  I posted that piece on my blog HERE, and I invite you to join me there to see how good God is even amidst damaging events.

I can only bow before Him and say, thank you, thank you, thank you.

Hurry Up and Wait

Ever have one of those weeks where you just think - what are you doing, God?

Sometimes I feel like I'm in the wrong life.  Or on the wrong train.  Or just in the way.  I can't figure out what I'm suppose to be doing.

Our daughter is buying her first house.  It needs some work.  I called a carpenter, a builder, and an aluminum company for estimates on some roof work.  One called me back, two did not.   The one who returned my call referred me to the one who has not called me back.  Waiting....

We discovered a leak in our upstairs bathtub a few weeks ago.  Called a plumber, who recommended a new tub, along with repairing the pipes that drip water into the garage every time the shower runs.   We ordered a new tub and hired a tile guy to tear out the tub and attached tile.  (The toilet had to come out too, and now sits in my office.)

The plumber returned and announced the new tub is too big.  Apparently, new tubs aren't standard sizes for older homes.  Back online we go...will Home Depot take back the big tub?  Do they even make the size tub we need?  There are a few.  Not really what I want, but at this point, I just need something that fits.

Last week, I deposited in the bank a check from some stocks we had cashed in.  Six days later, I paid some bills online, and next day, we had not one cent in our account.  WHAT?

My husband contacted our bank, and we were given the rigmarole about the sizable amount of the check, how long it takes to clear, yadda, yadda.   We've cashed in stock before with nary a problem.  We'll check on it, we were told.  Waiting...

On Friday, my dad had some stroke symptoms and, upon admission to the hospital, it was discovered he had a small brain bleed.  He will be 90 in about two weeks.  They admitted him to ICU and scheduled surgery (burr holes in the skull to clean out the debris) for Sunday.  Everything stopped for about 48 hours.  Waiting...

Dad did fine with the surgery and was moved out of ICU on Monday.  Great relief.  For a day.  He now has a bladder problem and a lung issue that might keep him in the hospital longer.  Waiting...

Yesterday, I tried to catch Dad's doctor.  Sat with Dad, roamed the halls, got tea from the coffee shop, roamed some more.  No doctor.  I finally left.  He showed up shortly after that.  

I felt like I just keep missing the boat.  Or the peg hole.  No contractors, no tub, no money, no updates on Dad. 

Last night, I was thinking, I'll just hide out today and try to accomplish nothing.  Then maybe something will get done.  I didn't even go to the gym.  I stayed in my jammies until my husband announced he'd found a tub, here locally, that we could have delivered today.  Then, the bank called and said the stock money was fully available and they pulled all the fees we'd been charged due to a slow-clearing check from Merrill Lynch.  The aluminum company called and will assess our daughter's roof next week.  

Wow, I thought.  Sit around, and stuff happens.

Dad is still in waiting mode, but apparently I can't have everything. 

I don't really know the moral of this story, except this:  "Be still and know that I am God" has new meaning.    

 

THE BIBLE Miniseries

Has anybody been watching The Bible series the past few weeks?

I got into it a bit late, but I kept hearing about it, so I finally tuned in.  I was immediately drawn in by the intensity of it.   It's brutal and powerful....and sad.  There are moments of beauty and uplift, but mostly, for me, the stories are agonizing.

Daniel in the lion's den, Herod's order to kill babies under two, John the Baptist beheaded, various crucifixions, wars, and invasions.  I keep shaking my head at the brutality of the human race.   Greed and lust and power drive everything.

It's crossed my mind several times, I'm so glad we don't throw people to the lions anymore, or thank God the days of crucifixion are over.   But, I remember that at one point in this country, slavery was accepted.  I watch the news and see horrific stories of school shootings and children sold into sex trafficking.  All I can think is, how God must grieve.  Methods of torture, abuse, and killing change over the centuries, but we're just as capable today of hatred and evil as we were in biblical times.

It would seem over the decades, we would learn how to get along.   Why don't we learn from one civilization/generation to the next?  We've certainly seen enough of the same atrocities repeated.  Our memory is clearly shallow.   And scripture tell us, the human heart is easily corrupted.

We are really fairly weak creatures, easily seduced by greed, lust, and power.   We also tend to live in the moment, which further fuels our fleshly tendencies.  On the face of it, it seems we're doomed.

Thank God for God.  In The Bible, He pursues His people and repeatedly proves He is trustworthy.

God still does that today.  His work hasn't changed since the beginning of time.  Poet Francis Thompson calls Him "the Hound of Heaven," because God's grace is relentless in trying to transform our hearts.  He pursues us always.

It is so reassuring to know this.  Otherwise, watching The Bible - and living - would be unbearable. 

p.s.  Are you watching The Bible?  What is your take on it?

Me Again

by Cheri Chesley

Last week, my son hijacked my weekly post with a short story of his own. Imaginative, isn't he? Today, you're stuck with me.

Sunday is Fathers' Day. For years, I had a really hard time with this holiday. My own father divorced my mother when I was four, then died when I was 7. Each year as I grew older, I lamented what I was missing. But how could I miss what I'd never known? It's easier than you might think.

As I married and had children of my own, I wanted to focus the day on their father (my hubby), but often my own resentment toward the day would make it difficult. We went through the motions, but it didn't have the right feel to it. It frustrated me to think, in this at least, I was letting my kids down.

Then, about 5 years ago, I was at the cemetery with my dad for Fathers' Day talking things out. As I sat there in the grass, I had a revelation. (a series of them, actually) I stopped thinking about how awful it had been for my family that my dad died, and started thinking about his quality of life had he lived. My whole understanding shifted that day. My dad's death stopped being about *me* and started being about *him*. Obviously, I can't know for sure how things would have been, but I have a pretty good imagination and a fair understanding of human nature.

I'm really grateful for that day. I'm also grateful for the Gospel, and with it the understanding of what happens after this life. It doesn't hurt that many of my priesthood blessings mention my dad, how proud he is, and how he longs to be a part of my life. No, that doesn't hurt at all.

Fathers' Day has a new meaning for me, now. And I love helping the kids plan and do something special for their dad. This year--strawberry cake!

HAPPY FATHERS' DAY!

Unfolding A Rose

It is only a tiny rosebud, A flower of God's design;

But I cannot unfold the petals, With these hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers Is not known to you and I.

GOD opens these flowers so sweetly,

While in my hands they fade and die.

IF I can not unfold a rosebud,

This flower of God's design,

Then how can I think I have wisdom

To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in Him for leading, Each moment of every day.

I will look to Him for His guidance, Each step of the way.

The pathway that lies before me,

Only my Heavenly Father knows.

I'll trust Him to unfold the moments, Just as his He unfolds the rose.

--author unknown



This was a beautiful poem given to my daughter in YW. How do you think it applies to us as writers?