Quigley Discovers the Bear Rug

I think I mentioned that we have a bear rug on the wall of my office/son's former bedroom/storage room. One day, about a month or so ago, Quigley discovered it. He thought it was quite alarming and should NOT be on the wall. So he did what he always does when he discovers something that is not how he thinks it should be, or that he wants, or that is scary, or is weird or different or sometimes, just because: he started barking at it. I thought it was so funny I took a picture. (Again, you can see a bigger version if you click on the photo)

Of course from Quigley's position you can see the teeth in the bear's open mouth, so perhaps this accounted for his alarm.

Today I worked my way through the end of chapter 5. It was difficult, but I think it's close to being "right". Then I looked through chapter 6 and it's here where things are going to get really difficult. For one thing, I don't think there's much of anything in chapter 6 that amounts to anything. So I'm going to have to do some cutting and shifting and figuring. What I hope to do is move some elements forward from where they are currently in the story. Or if not that, I could develop my pov character and her friend a bit more than I have. I'll have to see where the Lord leads.

Oh, and in yesterday's post I tried to show how Pastor Rory Clark had personalized one of his concepts using these little arrows or whatever they are: <> Inside them was written "insert your problem here." Unfortunately, they're also part of the HTML code, so when I did that and published the blog post, the whole thing just disappeared. Which is why in yesterday's post my sentence said "God considers to be His responsibility."

What it should have said (and I've fixed it on the blog itself) is:

God considers [insert your problem here] to be His responsibility.

Just wanted to clarify that because the line has been one I've really enjoyed these last few days. And one I've used all the time.


~~~

Orb Spider Web

Here's a shot of an orb spider and his (her?) web. It was spun on the clothesline one night last week. I think these are the coolest things. I love when I find one. And I love that I could actually take a picture of it that turned out good enough you can tell what it is! (If you click on it, you'll get a bigger, slightly clearer picture)

The funny thing is that I was talking about burnout to one of my friends last week, likening it to a spider spinning his web out of his very guts. When the web is spun, the spider is literally empty. Then the next morning, I found this web. I know writing has been compared by others to web spinning, both in the complexity of the stories, and in the fact that you use something inside yourself to do it. And when you are done, you can be emotionally, mentally and even physically "empty."

Sometimes the web doesn't work out for whatever reason (eg, it was constructed in the wrong place) and has to be redone. To really bring home the point, right after I took this shot, Quigley ran under the web and tore free on of the lines that anchored it to the ground, effectively destroying the whole thing. It was a little bit shocking to me that it could have so easily and casually been destroyed.

But that is the world we live in. And it's cool to go from that to the fact that what we have in Christ is not going to be destroyed. The anchor line there is secure and nothing will ever be able to destroy it.

This has been a very cool day, literally (it's rained all day) and figuratively. I had a lot of good reminders that none of this is up to me. God is the one who does the promoting, He's the one who's going to do the tasks He's assigned me, and I should slamming all my cares, all of them, every-stinkin'-one ALL of them on Him. And then stop fretting about them, stop thinking about them.

1 Peter 5:6,7 Humble yourself therefore under the mighty hand of God that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting ALL your anxiety upon Him, because He cares for you.

In last Friday's lesson, guest pastor Rory Clark pointed out that the English "He cares for you" does not do justice to the real meaning in the Greek idiom. A better translation would be, "He considers all your problems to be His responsibility." Pastor Rory had us personalize it:

"God considers (insert your problem here) to be His responsibility. "

Thus...

God considers Quigley's dietary indiscretions to be His responsibility.

God considers the fate of my books to be His responsibility.

God considers the writing of Enclave to be His responsibility.

How cool is that? Speaking of Enclave, I did email my editor and she called me this morning. We had a great talk, and I am so blessed to be writing for Bethany House. Sometimes I can't believe what a great deal I've got going here! Anyway, I have a new deadline, Nov 30. And I have a fair degree of confidence now that this book is going to work out okay. Already I'm seeing great improvement, and more and more ideas are rolling in, more and more connections are being made. What I want now is to find the elements that are going to cause me to fall in love with this book. With Arena it didn't happen until one of the later drafts (maybe the next to last one), and really I've only just begun to work on Enclave, despite the fact I've been "working" on it for a year.

~~~~

Burnout or Creative Exhaustion?

Last week something happened that sent my writing attitude into a tailspin for a day or so. Afterward I woke up still not wanting to write and thinking about burnout, which was one of the things first mentioned in the conference lessons. (You get burned out when you don't see to your own vineyard enough, or as one pastor liked to say, "Put on your own air mask first, before trying to help others put on theirs!")

I don't think that was an accident. I remembered some of the things I'd read about it, and more than that I recalled the experience of another novelist, a woman who had been writing something like two books a year for ten years. One day she just could not go on. Could not write a word. No matter how she tried. So she took a year off.

It occurred to me that that was very much like what I'd experienced after I turned in the first draft of The Enclave last June. In fact, it wasn't just that I couldn't write anything, I couldn't much do anything else, either. There was all that sitting around, staring out of windows, and then it took me a long time before I could even bear to think about working on this book again. Even though I got the editor feedback in the early part of July, it wasn't for another two weeks or so that I could make myself get back to it.

Of course there were lots of other things going on around that time, but it seemed odd that I was literally unable to make myself get to it.

So recalling all of that, last week I decided to research burnout. What I learned was interesting. The Internet article, "Preventing Burnout," describes it as

"a state of emotional and physical exhaustion caused by excessive and prolonged stress. It can occur when you feel overwhelmed and unable to meet constant demands. As the stress continues, you begin to lose the interest or motivation that led you to take on a certain role in the first place. Burnout reduces your productivity and saps your energy, leaving you feeling increasingly hopeless, powerless, cynical and resentful."

"Burnout and stress are not the same. Stress, by and large, involves too much: too many pressures that demand too much of you physically and pyschologically. Stressrd people can still imagine though, that if they can just get everything under control they'll feel better.

"Burnout, on the other hand, is about not enough. Being burned out means feeling empty, devoid of motivation, and beyond caring. People experiencing burnout often don't see any hope of positive change in their situations. If excessive stress is like drowning in responsiblitites, burnout is being all dried up."

For a good part of the summer, that's how I felt: dried up, especially when it came to words.

The articles said that burnout is a gradual process, and that recovering from it takes almost as long as its development. Symptoms include cognitive and motor difficulties including lack of concentration and restlessness, and turning to escapist behaviors such as... shopping binges (hmm... like buying rubber stamps?? thinking about buying stamps? making cards?) to escape your feelings of reduced personal accomplishment. (resulting perhaps from your actual reduced accomplishment since you're spending all your time thinking about buying stamps. ) Because another of the symptoms is a definitely a reduction of productivity.

For awhile I thought maybe I was close to being burned out. But I don't feel hopeless, and I don't feel cynical, and my motivation is returning. I think creatively I was just exhausted and am probably still depleated.

Last Thursday, Friday and Saturday I got in some good work on Enclave. ...but it was slow, exacting, mentally taxing work. I revised chapter 4, paying special attention to motivations of the principle characters (not just the pov), and to the concepts of scene and sequel. What was the story goal? What was the scene goal? Does the conflict in the scene actually reflect these goals? What is his thought process in this sequel?

I ran into lots of inconsistencies and areas I'd not considered before. Things like having my hero assume things that, now that I thought it through he would never assume given everything he'd seen to that point. Which meant I had to change the thinking and the decisions and the conversation and the scene goal... But the changes resulted in definite improvements.

The next day I did the same for chapter 5, except that some of the changes that came out of that work sent me back to 4 for another pass. Then back to 5 for its second pass, more cutting (there's been lots of that) more focus, more thinking. Sometimes I'd get to the point where I just could not think anymore. I couldn't hold two thoughts together in my mind. Couldn't generate any thoughts at all relative to the issue, subject or problem. If I tried, everything snarled and ended in blankness. So I had to get up and do something else.

And I'm not getting on my case for not going back to it real fast, either, if I don't feel like it. (Or just get distracted -- I figure I need the distraction) I'm also trying to just focus on today's work and not hurry myself through it. In the past I've not wanted to do the kind of slow, close work I've been doing because "there wasn't time." Well, there still might not be time, but it's what the work needs. And I think it's what I need, too.

However, given the scope of what needs to be done and thought through and worked out on this manuscript, I seriously doubt I'll be able to do it all in the month I have remaining. Of course, God could always work a miracle... But I probably better let my editor know.

~~~

Notes from the NE Conference -- Burnout

The recent New England Conference was so full of rich concepts that really resonated with my life, that I thought I'd share a few of them, excerpts from my notes. I don't know how far I'll get, because they seem to be tying into things I'm dealing with right now, and I may want to write about those things as well, but I'll start with some snippets from my notes from the first morning, Tuesday Aug 5:

"God's been preparing all of us as a body of Believers to learn the importance of one word -- love. We all need to recognize and improve the love we have for one another. It begins with you taking care of your own soul first, your relationship with God,. Then you worry about your relationship with your family, church, ministry, nation...

"Do you have a problem loving others? It's because you don't really love yourself.

"People who recognize their own sins, their own flaws, faults and failures are those who make the best ambassadors for Jesus Christ. Those who're forgiven much recognize how much they have been forgiven. When you see all the ways you fail, you'll have the ability to love others.

"We must take care of those areas closest to us before we can take care of those who are at a distance.

Song of Solomon 1:6 says, "Do not stare at me becuase I am swarth, for the sun has burned me. My mother's sons were angry with me; they made me caretaker of the vineyards, but I have not taken care of my own vineyard."

"burned" here refers to a believer who is burnt out, who hasn't set aside enough time for himself -- for studying the word, prayer, time with God. If you're going to lay down your life for others, you must first take care of yourself.

~~~~

The AZ Group

Here is a smaller than I expected picture of the AZ group that attended the 2008 New England Bible Conference in Massachusetts last week. I'm second from the left. As you can see, most of us are wearing long pants, long-sleeved shirts/jackets, etc. I should note that the tallest person in the back is not from Arizona, so far as I know. Also, two of our group reside in Colorado in the summer, Tucson in the winter, so I guess they could count for Colorado and Arizona.

It already seems like an age ago. At church today people asked how my week was, and I could hardly remember. Well, there's been a continuing issue with Quigley. He is acting all fine and lively but his digestive tract has not been right for days, so I've been cooking a lot of rice and examining a lot of droppings.

Tomorrow (Monday) I take my mother for her third chemo session. This time we are bringing our lunches since I expect they will want to go very slowly with the infusion to avoid a repeat of the reaction she had last time.

Here is a snippet from my conference notes that I especiall liked:

Every day when I wake up, I should say, "What does God have planned for me today? What will happen in my life that I can learn of the Lord Jesus Christ and how He responded to life and to His father."

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Quigley Update

Well, once I gave the whole affair over to the Lord and stopped trying to take care of it myself, He took care of it.

Quigley came home from his walk with Stu last night just fine, and Stu had gotten another stool sample, similar to the one I had, but in more quantity. Quigley drank and we gave him a bit of Pepto-Bismol as per Internet advice. Then he ate a small bit of rice and chicken, and was much more alert and lively than he'd been all day, playing around and generally being a nice dog. Right before bed he ate another bit of rice and chicken and we decided we didn't need to bring him in this morning (Thursday).

I do think, however, based on the way he's acting today, that he really wasn't feeling well yesterday and was indeed more lethargic than normal. Today he's been very interested in food, hanging around the kitchen, pressing himself against me as he tries to get close to the counter, pouncing on bits of ice if they fall from the freezer, none of which he did yesterday. Today I've already had to lock him in his crate for chewing on the rug, and just now had to chase him out of the office for trying to chew the cardboard boxes of my bookmarks. Whereupon he went outside and wrestled with a large, plastic dog-biscuit can. Again, not how he had behaved yesterday. He's also eaten three times already, and ends by looking for more.

Yesterday, he literally just lay around, getting up only to change rooms. When I put him outside, he lay down where he was.

Also, I have to fill in a bit of back story regarding my experiences with dogs and diarrhea. Our first dog got colonitis one summer when we were staying in Flagstaff -- squirted puddles of bloody diarrhea and had to spend a couple days in the hospital. Our third dog had bloody diarrhea from parvo and had to spend a day in the hospital. Most recently, Bear had diarrhea and vomiting during an acute attack of kidney failure on a Saturday, and I was advised to withhold water and food and wait for the doctor on Monday, when it turned out what I should have done was bring him in immediately for sub-Q fluids. So I'm kinda prepped to get weird about diarrhea that's bloody and doesn't end.

Not that that's any excuse for freaking out, just that I can see I have a weakness there. Of course I have a bigger weakness in repeatedly thinking I have to solve the problems and head off the disasters I'm envisioning, when I should be bringing them to the Lord.


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A Warning from our Pastor

On Monday, as we were making our various ways home from the New England conference, our pastor sent us all an email warning which said, in part:

All of you are now going to face brand new challenges, especially from our best friend's enemy - BEWARE!

The conference has not ended; THE CONFERENCE HAS JUST BEGUN.

So I got home Monday night, we took Quigley on his walk and he had runny, watery diarrhea. Well, maybe it was stress, we thought. Or something he ate. No biggie. He seems to get diarrhea somewhat regularly, though not usually all watery.

But the next day, he still had it. Sometimes it was thicker than others and in late afternoon he left one that had blood in it. So we fed him a bland diet of rice and chicken. He loves rice and chicken and gets all excited just when I'm making the rice. He gobbled down a whole batch of it last night. Then we took him on his walk and though he stopped frequently, he never left enough to even pick up.

This morning when things were a little bit more formed in his first two droppings, with no blood n them, I thought he was getting better. Then he refused to eat. No rice, no chicken, no yogurt (which he loves) -- he wasn't even very interested in the treats during our (very brief) training session. And he seemed very lethargic. Finally I called the vet, and was told to withhold food for the rest of the day and bring in a stool sample this afternoon or tomorrow (Thursday) morning.

Well, when I went out around three o'clock and found he'd just had another squirt, and it was very runny with blood now mixed throughout, I collected as much of it with a spoon as I could (about a tsp) and put into a ziplock bag and took it to the clinic for sampling.

Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to do both parts of the test, though the part that was done didn't show any bacteria or parasites (the other part still could, which means we still don't know anything) (which seems to be the story of my life when it comes to medical tests, both for myself and for my dogs). When I was asked if Quigley was being normal in all respects except for this, I said no, and told about his lack of interest in eating, the lethargy, and the limited drinking. That wasn't good, and I was advised to bring him in tomorrow, along with another stool sample, because he might need to be watched or get fluids.

The additional complicating factor in all this is that it turns out my husband doesn't think Quigley's acting particularly lethargic. Apparently he's been acting like this for the whole week I was away. If he's still eager to take his walk, and able to do so, then he's behaving as he has been for the last 9 days. If that is so, then we don't need to bring him in tomorrow (Thursday) and have him watched and get fluids but can go ahead with our original plan to wait until Thursday night/Friday morning to see if he's going to get better before going in to the vet at all. Arg.

I can soooo see that this little affair has been orchestrated to produce maximum uncertainty and confusion and distraction. Why am I not surprised? (Our battle is not against blood and flesh...) If I'd not been gone a week before this happened, and Quigley had suddenly gotten the diarrhea and starting acting like this, then it would have been different, because the behavior is strikingly different from what it was before I left. If he'd not gotten the diarrhea and was acting all mellow and stodgy like he is, then it would be easy to believe that he is finally "maturing" into a typical adult hound. (Even the not eating wouldn't be all that alarming because sometimes in the morning he doesn't eat much) Instead... we have confusion, inconclusive tests, disagreement from different perspectives, the pressure to try to see into the future and from that predict the best course of action, tension, the huge temptation to worry... DISTRACTION!

Well, I was warned. And now have opportunity to apply all the doctrines I've learned, especially last week. And what I know is... I have no clue. I don't know what's wrong with him. I don't know what is going to happen. I don't know what he needs. I don't know what to do. I can't stand not knowing, and I can't stand all the waiting in uncertainty. Which is probably why this test is here. Again.

So I have to put it all into God's hands and not think about it. Even if I make wrong decisions, He can still take care of things. It's His plan that matters, not mine. One of the things we learned last week was the importance of really focusing on and believing and living in the fact that He loves us. That He loves me. Personally. Specifically.

When you know that you are loved with the kind of love He has for us, that would drive Him to send His Son to the cross, that would drive His Son to agree to GO to the cross -- and that this One who loves you is the creator and ruler of the Universe -- what can there possibly be to worry about? He will handle it. He wants you ... He wants ME to trust Him with all of this and forget about trying to work it out myself. He really and truly does not need me to help Him with all my attempts to peer into the future and make the "right" decisions so as to avoid a possible disaster, to demand we do things my way because "I am right." How do I know I'm right? Maybe I'm not. I have no clue.

What I do know is that while I definitely do not have all the facts, He does. What I know is that nothing happens in my life that He did not choose, down to the smallest detail, to be a part of His perfect and wonderful plan that provides ultimately only His highest and best for me. If I don't understand, well, that's part of it. Because more than anything He just wants that trust. He wants me to know who He is and then to trust Him in that, regardless of what sight says. And He wants me to bring to Him all my concerns by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving...

So right now I have no idea what is going to happen. Except that I think I'm going to go eat dinner now, and maybe I'll manage to get in a bit more work on Enclave this evening before it's time for bed. As for tomorrow? One day at a time.

~~~~

2008 New England Bible Conference

I'm back! A week ago Monday I left with several friends for Massachusetts by way of Albuquerque and Baltimore (though we never had to get off the plane) to attend a week long Bible Conference at our "home church," Grace Bible Church in Somerset, MASS.

It was amazing. First because the members of the local assembly there made incredible provisions for us, their guests (I don't know how many people came from other states and nations, but there were a lot of us -- a rough count of the folks I know of tallies at 97.) They provided us breakfast and lunch every day, the foods mostly prepared by members of the congregation, which meant we got to taste an array of the kind of food that the local people actually ate. It was all yummy, but I'm still blown away. There was also an abundance of drinks, and in the breaks, coffee, tea, and various other treats, snacks, hors d'oeuvres. The last night at a "Raptard Party" (that's a party for the Rapture retards -- those of us who believe the Rapture is coming in the next few years) they served lobster. I've never eaten lobster, so that was quite an experience. Very good. Very messy. Very fun.

There was also a lot of rain, which those of us from the desert appreciated. And it was cold. Which I also appreciated despite the fact I wasn't prepared for it. When I packed, I couldn't even conceive of what cold felt like. Should I bring more of the short sleeved tees or the sleeveless? It never occurred to me I might want something long sleeved. But despite the fact that I was able to wear only a portion of what I'd brought, I the cold was a welcome reprieve.

Of course we didn't travel all that way just to enjoy cool weather and rain, nor even to sample local foods. We came for a spiritual feast and a great reuinon of royal family. And boy did we have both!

If the physical food was fantastic, the spiritual food was even better. Amazing. Phenomenal.

The conference was on relationships and there were a number of speakers -- we had about five hours of teaching every day -- and all of them seemed to be on the same pages, teaching various aspects of the same message even though they hadn't in most cases talked to one another or coordinated what they were going to teach on. The Holy Spirit was thus very much in evidence, His hand seen in the almost eerie orchestration of all the messages and songs.

The central theme was relationships, but the one thought that seemed to me to have been most repeated was that you must get your relationship with God in order first, and only then can you get your relationships with people in order.

I'll have more to say on it all tomorrow, but right now I'm still getting unpacked and caught up on all the things that didn't get done while I was away. And trying to recuperate from all the excitement, late nights, three hour time zone shift, and five hours of sitting on a plane.

A Slave Mentality

Surprise! A Saturday post (that's because I'm going to be gone next week, and wanted to finish out this subject before I leave. And also because I have no doubt I will have other things to write about when I get back!!)

I wrote the other day about how accomplishment in life (even in a day) does bring pleasure and satisfaction. It's a blessing from God. The problem is in seeing it that way and not as something I can obtain if I strive enough, or am disciplined enough. (And isn't that funny, to think that all that discipline and hard work is actually motivated by a desire to feel good about oneself!).

Of course, it's not really something one can always obtain if you just "do things right," because sometimes things don't work out so you have the accomplishment. You work all day, and the card ends up a disaster. You scrub the kitchen floor and in minutes the dog and other arrivals trash it. You spend hours pouring over the manuscript and can't seem to change one word, though you are very aware that it is in dire need of changing. Or someone needs help. Or something breaks. Or, Heaven forbid, you have to do something new on the computer! (that's good for about six hours) Or you get sick... Or you just can't seem to get yourself to settle down and focus.

Then you have no accomplishment. If you think it's up to you, then you feel bad. But all it is, really, is a pleasure denied, not an indictment. Probably something God allows so we'll remember it's not up to us and not about us. He gives the accomplishment for our blessing, or He doesn't.

And really the other way of thinking is a form of legalism. In fact, it's a slave mentality. Here's a quote from one of my pastor's sermons of some time ago:

"When believers seek satisfaction about who they are and acceptance through accomplishment, it's legalism. We don't have to seek acceptance. We already are accepted. We don't have to seek satisfaction; God already is."

And if He is, shouldn't we be?

"Instead of life bringing forth service, we turn it around to make service the life. If you serve and hustle and accomplish and feel happy and accepted (and satisfied), then fail to do any of that and feel awful, you're in the trap. This is the relationship of the slave/servant to his master. We are to serve others, but we're not to have a servant mentality because according to Gal 4:7, we are no longer slaves. We are heirs."

So all this going through the day with my mental list of "what I have to do" or "what should be done" and the perpetual urgency, racing through each task to get to the next so I can accomplish things, get everything done (or thinking I should be doing B while I'm doing A, or A while I'm doing B -- which I also do) -- all that without enjoying any of it... it's just legalism. (And as I said before, Heaven forbid that anything should come up to hinder me in my pursuit of accomplishment). The Law in this case is that of my sin nature and my old human viewpoint thinking: You must get these things done or I'll make you feel rotten!"

When I should be focusing on each thing the Lord has chosen for me to do today. Every day is one He has made, for me to learn more of Him, see more of Him, enjoy whatever He has for me, no matter how mundane.


****

Accomplishment Addiction

Another outflow of the Sunday before last's Supermessage is that I've come to the conclusion that I've been in bondage to achievement. I'm a person who loves to cross things off her list. I'm almost at the point of making a list just so I can cross things off it. Sometimes in my journal at night, I list all the things I've donethat day, just so I can feel good. That doesn't seem right. That is, it doesn't seem that my motivation should spring from a desire to feel good just because I've gotten some things done today.

I've read tons of get organized and how to manage your time books and have come across statements such as, "It's accomplishment that really motivates... For a doer, one accomplishment just provides fuel for more." That was Don Aslett, in his book How to Accomplish 1000 Things at Once. He said, further, "Accomplishment is the sustaining reality. Once you build and produce, once youre work results in something that changes things, then it changes you, too, and feeds you like a tank of gas."

It's true, at least in that I think accomplishment is part of the pleasure God has put into life. We feel good when we get a bunch of things done. We take satisfaction in the work we have to do. But... we can also (I do, absolutely) feel bad when we don't get things done. When something happens and we don't get one thing on the list accomplished. or worse, when we just get sidetracked and distracted and end up not getting anything done, not because of someone else, but because of our own selves. Which I've always regarded as especially bad. You were a wastrel. A flake. A flibbitygibbit.

I've believed all this for years. Now I'm questioning it.

For one thing, I've become aware of the fact that I start each day with a plan in mind. I'm going to do A, B, C, D, and E in that order. Then I proceed. The whole time I'm doing A, I'm not concentrating on A, enjoying it, noticing the little pleasing details that are part of it -- no, I'm thinking about how fast I can get it done so I can go on to B. When I do B, I think about C. I'm always in a hurry, and should anything come up to interfere, well, that is a major distress factor. As I'm writing this I see so clearly how that method is all about my plan. My things. My order. Not about God's. When I didn't fulfill my plan, then I felt bad. I made myself feel bad. It wasn't God doing it. If I thought about God at all, I'd realize He saw me as accepted.

But somehow I couldn't get His eternal and overriding acceptance to link up with my temporal failure. I couldn't see that I was overriding God's acceptance with my own arrogant lack of acceptance.

There is now, no condemnation to those who are in Christ. God is perfectly pleased with me, as is. I don't have to do one thing to be "good." The things God has for me to do are for my blessing and benefit. It should be for pleasure and/or out of gratitude and desire to serve. Not the little stroke I get at the end of the day for having "accomplished" my plan. Not so I can feel good about myself because I've fulfilled "my" standards and "my" plans and that's what really counts. If God's said He's accepted us, period, how can I say, "That's fine. I know I'm acceptable to God but I'm not acceptable to myself." I'm actually saying I have to do a little more to please myself than I do to please God. And that's just nuts!

Reflections on the Abundant Life, part 2

Now I get to return to my reflections on my pastor's message two Sunday's ago about the Abundant life. How, as a child of the King, I should be reigning in my life, enjoying the many, many things God has given me. ONe part of learning to enjoy my life is to lose my subjectivity about myself. Worrying about what I look like, what I sound like, if I did the right thing. Was I bad? Should I have not said that? What did they think? Were they upset? Do they think I'm a doofus now?

Phooey on all that! The truth is, no one really cares. Just be who you are and enjoy being who you are. I am very different from most people I encounter and this is a familiar struggle -- the thought is constantly creeping in that I should be like this person or that person. That how I am is not like others and so, by that measure, I must be bad. That's baloney. I am what I am by the grace of God! (I Co 15:10)

I should be myself, and enjoy myself, and not apologize for who I am. Just relax in it. Furthermore, my focus should not even be on myself (which is, of course, subjectivity!). I shouldn't be thinking about my performance or my growth or whatever. I need to evaluate myself for sin so I can rebound, but beyond that, forget it. My focus should be on Him. And on others.

Life is not about us. It's about us laying down our lives for the Lord Jesus Christ and for our friends.

We're to enjoy that life more abundantly. The yoke is easy. The burden is light. Life is filled with enjoyment (if we look for it and concentrate on that). It's fun. We get pleasure out of living.

The food we eat can be a constant small pleasure. Our homes, humble or great, are still our homes, and have many comforts. Solitude, family, friends. The sky, the grass, our pets. The word of God, the wonderful things God has done for us. Who we are in Him: Winners already, not because of us, but because of Him. With the potential to win even more -- crowns which we can cast at His feet in the eternal state.

We're supposed to enjoy the life God has given us. Even the unbeliever is told to enjoy the life which God has given him under the sun -- his wife, his job... Philippians says to concentrate on the positive honorable things.
The world wants us to concentrate on the negative. Yes, there may be worldly voices urging us to "think positive" but overall the things you hear from the world are negative. All the bad news on the news, all the things we have to watch out for, beware of, not eat, not do ...

If you concentrate on all the negativity -- what the nation's going through, what you're going through ((what's wrong with you, what's wrong with all the people in your periphery))you'll have a negative attitude rather than a positive outlook.

Live one day at a time and enjoy yourself. Realize this is the day that the Lord has made. Enjoy your loved ones, your money. Prosperity, the blessings God has given you: family, children, relatives, church, friends.
Life is Fun!

He paid the price so we could LIVE, not run around in gloom and doom, condemnnation and guilt.

There is now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus. I don't have to do anything to please God. He is already completely pleased. So why say to myself that I'm bad and feel regrets that I didn't finish the tasks I'd hoped to finish today, and now I'll have to add them to tomorrow's routine and when will I have the time to work on the book, answer email, write a blog post? Stop! Deep breath...

There's always time to do the will of God. Getting all bothered about what I've not done, what I'll have to do is definitely not the will of God. I enjoyed what I did today, even if it didn't work out that I could finish. Oh well. It's one day at a time. I can't keep peering into the future and getting all weird about what I fear I'll have to do. God is there. He will handle it. I have only to enjoy today.

****

A Change in Plans

I had planned to post Reflections on the Abundant Life part 2, today, but instead, I'm going to talk about what happened today, which itself illustrates what seems to be the Concept of the Week... Month... Year? that God is drilling into my thinking. That concept is that my plans are not really all that important and can easily be demolished by all sorts of things outside my control. Thus it's better not to make too many plans or assume too much. It's likely things will turn out differently.

Today, for example. Today I went with my mother for her second chemotherapy treatment. The first time, as I mentioned, they told us it would take six hours and to bring our lunches, and things to do. Instead, it took only took two hours and we went back to her house to eat our lunches. That's because she had no reaction to the medication and everything went smoothly.

That experience under our belts, we assumed today (never assume!) that things would go likewise and didn't bring lunch. (Though I did bring two dark chocolate energy bars, of which I ate one; my mother held out for her potato salad, waiting at home.) This time she did have a reaction to one of the chemo drugs.

About five minutes after they started it (by intravenous infusion), she told me she was starting to have trouble breathing, one of the things we were told to be alert to. I immediately went around the corner of the section wall to the nurse's station, a trip of about ten feet, who threw down her pen when I told her, and hurried back to my mother to turn off the drip. In that short time it took me to go and come back, my mother had turned completely red in the face and neck, her breathing trouble was worse and she said she felt intense prickling in her face and head and was developing a painful cramp in her back.

The nurse gave her a shot of Benadryl right into the IV feed and it had almost immediate effect, easing the breathing first, then the flush and prickle and finally the back cramp. Within ten minutes she was almost back to normal. They gave her half an hour, though, to get really settled, then administered more Benadryl, some steroid and started the chemo drip again, very slowly. Everything went well after that, if slowly, but it was quite intense while it was happening. The nurse was very good.

But the point of this post is that instead of two hours it took five this time. You never know what a day will bring, and while I wouldn't say it's bad to plan, more and more I'm seeing the importance of being ready to change. To be flexible. The important thing isn't seeing your plans accomplished, or getting things done, it's to see the Lord in all that happens and adapt with grace and contentment. Enjoy the parts you can. Mostly we had a good time, and I was very happy I was there with my mother today, because it would have hard for her to summon help on her own. It's very difficult to call for help when you can't breathe... and there wasn't anyone else around in our little section. Plus the speed at which the reaction occurred was just mind boggling.

I also read through the remaining chapters of The Enclave and am pleased to report that I've finished the read through. Now I have to start the real work. But not today!

Tomorrow I'll go back to my reflections. Maybe. ;-)

****

Reflections on the Abundant Life, Part 1

As I've said, I've had a bunch of spiritual revelations (in the sense of concepts becoming clear to me in a way they haven't been before) in the last week or so, and I've been promising to write about them. Because I'm stopping myself with the roadblock of not being able to figure out how to order it all into a nice, contained essay, I'm just going to throw out the essay notion, and put stuff down as it comes. Including as I wrote it in my journal last week.

This particular eruption began with last Sunday's message by Pastor McLaughlin, which was awesome. I felt like I was being barraged by words from God -- not that Pastor is God, by any means, but he's sure my right pastor teacher, and God does speak to me through his words. And last Sunday I was deluged.

So what were some of things He said? "Enjoy your life... Live like the battle is finished and you've won -- you have... There is now no condemntion to those who are in Christ Jesus... Yes, I'm completely depraved. I can't do anything without help, including apply, but so what? I can do all things through Christ who keeps on pouring power into me... Don't walk around in negativity and gloom."

That's just a summary. All those thoughts have great implications for my life.

What was he teaching on? Dispensations. Why God gave the Law -- not as a series of rules to be followed, but to manifest His grace and mercy. The rules showed men that they were depraved, that they couldn't follow the rules. A portion of the rules, perhaps, but not all and perfect Righteousness demands we follow all of them, perfectly, and with the right attitude.

God put us here condemned from birth, depraved from birth, sinners through imputation not sinners through personal choice. (Though we certainly do commit sins through personal choice.) The Law was provided in part to show us who we really are, not who we'd like to be, or what the world says. It was provided to show the Jews that they needed a Savior. And also -- not to worry! -- that God would provide one.

The point wasn't to follow the Law to please God and get saved, and it isn't now. The point was to realize we don't have the power to satisfy God's perfect standards on our own. If that is so, then what does He expect of us? Or, more personally, what does he expect of me? To trust Him, the god of grace and mercy.

"My yoke is easy," says the Lord. "My burden is light."

If you think the Christian Way of life is hard, you're rejecting the fact that you have life more abundantly, that God said, "I will give you the power and ability to do all things."

If you have condemnation, guilt, regrets for what you didn't do, or should've done you are SINNING! (and need to rebound) When you recognize you're totally depraved, helpless to please God, all the pressure to do so vanishes. It sets you free. In God's sight I'm totally blameless already. Totally accepted.

Nothing I do will make me one ounce holier or accepted than I already am. Nothing I fail to do with change it either. It's over. I'm accepted by the God of the universe.

I know this. But what does it mean? Don't we have to apply? Capture thoughts? Obey commands?

Not to please God, no. Not even to receive blessing from God. He's already promised to bless me, beyond my ability to imagine. But I don't get those blessings because I obeyed the commands (like Quigley performing a trick for a treat). I obey the commands in order to live in the freedom He's won for me, which is in itself a blessing. I obey the commands to learn of Him, and be filled with His spirit, and think like Him, so that I can enjoy the inheritance He's promised me.

When you believe in Jesus, He gives you the perfect righteousness He earned by following the Law. And this +R requires blessing (there's a promise in the Law says that following it perfectly requires blessing). In God's sight you're totally perfect and blameless. There is no condemnation from God toward the believer. Blessing is therefore required, but God will not bless you until you reach maturity, where you won't be consumed by the blessing.

I can't bring myself to maturity. Only God can -- when I expose myself to the daily teaching of my pastor, perceive the word, believe it, make it part of my thinking, apply it. Part of that thinking is acknowledging the fact that God's thinking is that I live and experience the abundant life. That I enjoy the blessings He's given me. That I live like who I am in Him!

For if by the transgression of the one, death reigned through the one, much more those who receive the abundance of grace and of the GIFT of righteousness (+R) will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ. - Ro 5:17

Reign. It doesn't say they'll be losers in life. They'll suffer all the time because they're Christians and everyone's against them, they're the only ones who know the truth. No. It says they will reign.

Are you reigning? Taking power and control over your own life? Being an example of what it means to be a member of the Royal Family of God? Or are you walking around with a defeatist attitude: "Oh, everyone's against me, I'm going through suffering, no one understands me..."

You should be living like a CHILD OF THE KING! A member of the Royal Family of God. A future Bride of Christ. A member of the Body. You should be living with the power that you can do all things through Christ who strengthens you. With the attitude that I've overcome the world and greater is He who is in me, than he who's in the world.

You should be REIGNING and enjoying life.

Reading The Enclave

I really should write a blog post. Before another day passes. I don't know what's happened to me. Maybe I've just gotten out of the habit, or, more likely, it has to do with the problems of the evening, where we have to fix dinner, walk Quigley, fool with Quigley, stretch, clean up, shower before bed (because we have a swamp cooler and it's been terribly humid with dew points closing on the 7o's and I can't stand going to bed all sticky)...

Maybe I'm slipping into a fugue state (Fugue state: An altered state of consciousness in which a person may move about purposely and even speak but is not fully aware. A fugue state is usually a type of complex partial seizure...) during the day and that's why parts of my life just seem to wink out. (Actually I think it's just that I'm getting distracted yet again by whatever happens to be lying about on the flat surface of whatever room I happen to have gone into for whatever reason -- looking for a pen, need to check something on the computer, need to find something in a book, need to find the book, going to put something away -- and time just flies away with me.)

Anyway, I've finally started plowing through The Enclave. Oh, dear. It's very First Draft Wretched. The first twelve chapters are VERY SLOOOOOW. There are so many things wrong with it, that it can be overwhelming, would be overwhelming if I didn't just step back and put in completely in the Lord's hands. He's going to make it beautiful and meaningful in His time. I have no idea how He's going to do that, and in my view He has a huge problem... but it's HIS problem, not mine. All I have to do is read through it and make whatever notes occur to me.

I'm on ch 22. I have made 202 notes so far. Those are the numbered ones. I also have random notes jotted on the ms itself. The problem in those early chapters was keeping myself in the chair and reading. It was a worse slog than the slog I reported on a week or so ago when I was trying to read that other fantasy novel for endorsement.

But why would I expect otherwise? My assignment in the first draft was always to just write and let it be bad. Let it be boring, repetitive, stupid, inconsistent, without direction... Well. It is. But it's cool in one way to see all the stodginess in the beginning, because those are areas ripe for cutting. And cutting is good.

I also have to report on the ranula. Last Sunday, while eating dinner, it suddenly doubled in size. Here I'd been resting in the Lord to take care of it, trying to convince myself it was getting smaller, and suddenly it was very definitely NOT smaller. We went to the dog park and came home and it was if anything getting bigger. If I had to wait two weeks just to see that Ear, Nose and Throat guy, I'd surely have to wait two weeks to get a surgery scheduled if I called Monday. And in two weeks I'm going to a Bible conference.

So the Lord had another problem. Finally about 9 pm, when the ranula was hurting and now seemed to be extending up past my tongue almost to the top of my teeth, I couldn't stand it any more went to Him and asked him to make it smaller. "Could you please just make it smaller now? It's driving me nuts. If it comes back tomorrow, fine, but this is...not a fun time."

I went in to brush my teeth, looked at it, realized it looked a lot different than it had before, almost like a soap bubble now, and the skin on it seemed so thin, I figured I could break it with my fingernail. So I did.

Clear mucus came out. The whole thing deflated. Half an hour after the prayer was offered it was answered. And as the days have passed the whole thing has receded. I don't know if it's just not closed up again (recalling the issues of removing the roof by surgery and having it grow back) and that's why it seems to be gone, or if it's really gone, but whatever it is, I'm happy!

There have also been many spiritual discoveries and realizations going on, but so far I've been unable to articulate them for a blog. Soon though.

--

Dr. Horrible

I really enjoyed Joss Whedon's Firefly TV series and the movie it spawned, Serenity. So when I came across the link to his new project on Robin McKinley's blog, I went.

http://drhorrible.com/

It's weird. Funny. Off color. Odd. Interesting. Has Nathan Fillion in it. Has some decent singing in it... but it's very, very weird. Still, what would you expect?

It's part of a plan that you can read about here:
http://drhorrible.com/plan.html

But if you don't go by Sunday, midnight, it will vanish and then you'll have to pay. Later. Maybe. If it ever shows up again.

So go now and watch. Go.

---

Ranula

How weird. This is how The Enclave begins:

Cameron Reinhardt is an idiot!

Yes, he had a PhD from Stanford. Yes, he was widely acknowledged as a brilliant geneticist. Yes, Doctor Swain called him the field’s newest rising star, the Institute’s greatest asset, and a fabulous hiring coup. But this wasn’t the first time Lacey McHenry wondered how the man managed to get up in the morning and make it to his office fully clothed.

She stood in the open doorway of the frog room. A large, rectangular steel tank hulked against the bare, peach-colored wall across from her, one of its three, hinged covers propped back against that wall. Live frogs and toads scattered the concrete floor beneath it, watching her with bulging golden eyes; more of them had trailed slime onto the gleaming linoleum of the corridor behind her in their break for freedom.

Apparently Dr. Reinhardt had come in sometime this afternoon and forgotten to close not only the lid, but the door as well. Collecting his subjects, he’d hurried off to his lab, heedless as a teenaged boy, and never mind that all the remaining amphibians could and did escape; never mind that someone else would have to clean them up.

Surely he was living proof that a man could be a genius and a moron at the same time.

The frogs continue to have a place throughout the story, so for inspiration I have small plastic tree frogs scattered about my office.

Thus, it's somehow strangely appropriate that the cyst under my tongue is called a ranula, named after the belly of a frog. Euwww! Supposedly because it looks like one, though I fail to see the resemblance.

I learned all this from my visit to the Ear, Nose and Throat specialist yesterday, a visit that consumed two hours of my time but only about ten minutes of said specialist! Anyway, it's more common in females than males, and more common in children than adults. In fact, he's never seen one in an adult.

I'm honored. Not.

It's a salivary gland duct that has been occluded...er...stopped up (been reading too much medicalese). We can go to the hospital and he can cut the roof of it off and let it hopefully form a new roof without the saliva inside it. Of course it might not do that and they'd have to cut the roof off again. Maybe again. Maybe have to take the salivary gland with the roof... Or we can just wait and see if it will go away. Which it probably will.

Since it's not really even bothering me any more, I opted for wait and see. The same thing I've done with the trigger finger. I suppose if it suddenly grows as large as my thumb, as the doc said they sometimes do (usually in children), making it hard to talk (heaven forbid) or swallow, then we'll take the surgery route. But that's future and we're commanded to stay out of the future so for now, I'm waiting.

The cause? They don't know. Possibly some trauma to the gland, though how that would be accomplished, I have no idea. Quigley's given me a lot of cuts and bruises, but I really don't think he could have reached the salivary gland. Maybe it was a particularly ferocious tortilla chip... The internet says it's bad luck.

Ranula. Too weird.

Answering Email

Today I answered the reader letter I received awhile back that was completely in Dutch. I ran the letter through one of those online translating things, and got at least a general idea of what was being said, but didn't see how I was going to respond. Especially since, according to the translation the reader's question was, "What does Arena have to do with the Bible?" Hmmm. Would I write it out in English and then put it through the translator for the Dutch version, then send that off to the poor kid (he wanted to use my answer for a book report...) not even knowing what it actually said. If it was as bad as the translation to English that I got, it might not even make sense to him. Her. I don't know.

So I just wrote to tell him/her I didn't read or speak Dutch. Which seems hardly worthy of the time I held onto the email without answering...

I've also actually answered a couple of friends' emails. A couple. As in, two. In between dealing with Quigley, and watching the news. Hmm. Maybe Quigley has had a greater impact on my life than I give him blame for.

I was watching the news so I could see all the storm damage Tucson's eastside sustained today. We had a fun hard rain at our house, on the fringe of the eastside storm -- we had black clouds thundering to our east, and sunlight shining through blue sky to our west. The backlit rain looked like silver blades hurtling to the ground. I tried to take a picture but the rain was so bright it just turned all white and you can't see anything.

When it passed, we took our walk around the park where, as usual, numerous fellow walkers commented on what a pretty/beautiful/handsome dog Quigley is. Yes. He is certainly that. And they didn't even see him in the sunlight. We also got sprinkled on, but it hardly mattered, given how humid it was.

Okay, I need to go rescue him from the backyard and get to bed.

--

Thoughts on the Battle

Christian speculative fiction is often about the battle between good and evil. In fact, so is much secular speculative fiction. It's certainly a battle I write about in my own books.

It's also a battle I believe really exists. That being the case, it doesn't seem too likely the enemy would want such literature out in the marketplace, revealing their existence and tactics to whoever. Over the years there has been much lamenting over the fact that Christian fantasy doesn't sell, much talk of what to do to make it better, to get people to read it. But maybe the battle isn't against flesh and blood, but against "the spiritual forces of wickedness in the atmosphere." Maybe, if there really is a battle, books that illuminate it are automatically going to be a hard sell, ignored, overlooked, etc. If there really is a battle, maybe that hard sell should be the expectation, not a surprise.

After all, how do you reconcile the idea of great public popularity for a novel that puts forth Christian ideas with "If you were of the world, the world would love its own, but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you." ("Hates," here, meaning "loves less," or "prefers against.") How does wild and widespread acclaim mesh with Lk 6:26 "Woe to you when men think well of you"?

And what about I Co 2:14 "a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness to him, and he cannot understand them because they are spiritually appraised."

---

Blankness

It's been almost a month since I sent The Enclave in to Bethany House and I've been bemused by the persistent blankness I'm continuing to experience when it comes to the written word. I wasn't surprised I'd have that during the first week afterward. Or even the second, but I am surprised it's persisted all the way into the fourth. I can talk all right, but when it comes to writing -- answering emails, writing a newsletter, updating my website, writing blog posts, even writing in my personal journal -- I'm still mostly coming up dry.

Part of that has to do with the routine we've established with Quigley, where I bring him in after Bible Class around six and then we take him for a walk or to the dog park. I used to go into the office afterward and write a post, but this past almost month, I've been too tired. Or we've gotten back so late, that it's time to get ready for bed (on account of the heat and having to wait until it's cool enough to walk) (cool enough being 100 degrees, or mid 90s).

I check email, see I have a ton of reader letters to answer, but can't seem to muster any gumption to start answering. Not even personal emails to friends. I've been doing other things, as I mentioned, but I really thought that would come to an end before I got the editor feedback on Enclave. Obviously it hasn't.

My editor wants the final draft by Oct 1. Since I'd been thinking I'd have til Nov 1 (not because anyone said I would, just because I think that's when I was supposed to have turned in Return of the Guardian King) and also that I just might be able to pull that off, it was a bit of a shock to have the deadline be a month earlier. I'm pretty sure I could email her about that, and maybe I should. Maybe the whole psychological game of setting a deadline earlier than I think I can manage, is just a sham and has no effect at all on my actual rate of progress, and only sets up another opportunity to fail.

If I was doing something that involved a clear direction and continuous actual things to do, it would be easy. But when it comes to those sections that are wrong, and you have to come up with something else that actually works, but you have no idea what it is... those parts usually take days of working at, thinking about, staring out the windows and so forth. There's no way to predict how many of those there'll be or how long they will last.

I really don't like writing to a deadline. I don't think it helps me at all, and I have been thinking more and more that perhaps I'm just not suited to the whole hurry up and turn it out climate of current day publishing. It still takes me as long as it ever did to write a book, and while I might actually turn things in sooner than I otherwise would have, I have the sneaking suspicion that it's at a cost to the quality of the manuscript.

Well, I've used up my words. Time to go think about dinner. But hey, I did a post today!

---

Catching Up

Where does the time go? I knew I had missed a few posts but when I logged on and checked the last one, I was astonished to find it was a week ago. Well, there've been a series of smallish but annoying happenings that were momentarily distracting, but turned out not to be a big deal. Nuisances, time consuming ones, but no more.

Like the bizarre cyst I've developed under my tongue. I've actually had it for maybe two months, and thought it was a blister that I sometimes get from a food allergy. I had been pressing on it with my tongue, releasing the fluid in it, and flattening it. I kept thinking it would go away. Finally, last Wednesday, I couldn't release the fluid no matter how hard I pressed. That's when I realized that I'd had it too long, and probably should get it looked at. But who would I call to look at it? Thursday morning I talked to the nurseline through my husband's work, and was advised to see a doctor within three days, so I called my primary care physician and got in that afternoon.

Of course, it's distracting, especially with all the cancer talk that's been going on in our lives lately, and not just because of my mother. But I more or less refused to let myself go there and a good thing, since it's only a nuisance, the doctor said. Something that can be cut out on an outpatient basis (or might even go away on its own). He thought I'd get in with an ear, nose and throat guy within a week but they were booked up, so it won't be till next week that I can see anyone. Meanwhile I'm really thinking the thing is going away on its own.

On Tuesday (last week) I had replied -- finally -- to an email asking if I'd read a new fantasy novel for possible endorsement. Normally I don't do that sort of thing, but this time, being on "vacation" I thought I might give it a shot. The only problem was that the book in question is the second in a series of which I'd not yet read the first. But the publishers willingly offered to send me the first book to read in prepartion for the second. I told them that I'm a fast reader and if a book grabs me I'll finish it in a day or two, depending on the length. Both books arrived Wednesday evening, so I figured I'd have Thursday to read the first. And except for the intrusion of the matter of the cyst, I did. Except...

It didn't grab me. I kept stopping and thinking of other things I could do. Wanted to do. Eventually I stalled out at something like page 31. The next day I read about three more pages and stalled out again. I haven't been able to pick it up since. I have read that for some readers it's slow going in the beginning, but picks up later, so maybe that will be my experience as well. But I also don't think it's my cup of tea to begin with. And there's almost an aversion in me now toward reading it...

On Friday, Quigley tore up one of the cushions on one of our couches while we were away at dinner. We returned to a happy-to-see- us, tail-wagging dog at the back door, walked through the kitchen and dining room to the living room and stood there with our mouths hanging open. He had shredded the fabric and the batting, and tore out chunks of the foam base of the cushion, further reduced some of the chunks to bits and pieces, added in the shredding of several paper items and spread it all across the living room floor. He was having a jolly, old time. We were not.

None of our dogs has ever done such a thing, so we were completely shocked that he had. The only good thing about it is that that couch was old and on its last leg. We planned to replace it with a new one and were only waiting until we were sure Quigley was reliable. Well. We're sure now that he is not. Just in case we doubted, tonight he chewed a hole in his bed.

And yesterday he tore a hole in the orca chew toy I'd just bought him that was supposed to be for Rottweiler-type power chewers and designed to provide "long-lasting chewing enjoyment." Try five minues.

Friday he swiped the Fels Naptha soap off the kitchen counter that I was using to scrub barbeque grease out of my shorts... which gave him diarrhea for the next four days (the Fels Naptha, not the shorts). Sunday he was mugged at the dog park by a huge German Shepherd, a husky or malamute type dog and a pack of followers...

But tonight he and I took a walk around the park in perfect weather, with very few people, storm winds cooling us off and storm clouds providing great sunset views.

And yesterday my mother had her first session of chemotherapy where everything went splendidly. Instead of the six hours they told us it might take, it only took two. She had no allergic reactions, little discomfort, did not get sick and had a generally normal day. Today she had to return for a post-treatment shot designed to keep her blood count from dropping, one that she was warned might make her feel bad and achy. So far, though, that's not bothered her either. I grateful for the Lord's answers to prayer, and His gentleness with her in this situation.

And finally, rounding out the end of the missing week, today I talked with my editor for 2 hours about The Enclave as she gave me her feedback on it. Almost none of it was surprising (except maybe the part about it actually hanging together and not being boring). I'm not sure I'm ready to work on it yet, but I'm thinking I might start reading it tomorrow or the next day. Just read it through, nothing more. See what's there, but not make myself have to figure anything out. But first I have a couple of birthday cards to finish.

Well, that's it for this post. Hopefully I'll be back tomorrow rather than next week! That's my intent, anyway.

--

Royal Family Weekend and Enclave

The monsoon is officially underway and once again we are watching the thunderheads build during the afternoon. This was taken through the front window, early in the process.

Last weekend our Pastor from Massachusetts, whom we listen to online, either live or recorded from a video stream and played three hours later (since 7 am is too early for everyone to get to church) came out to visit us, giving us some face to face teaching and some time of encouragement and fellowship. Friends from adjoining states came in for the occasion (as did our son, from San Diego), and we had a great three days. One of those nonstop talking things, that always leaves me with a sore throat, since I'm not that used to talking.

All in all it was a fantastic time. The things that were taught and said were amazingly right on target for the issues that we've been dealing with -- and the only way he could have known was through the leading of the Holy Spirit because we hadn't told him. Some of the things I hadn't told anyone about, so that was very cool.

I also got a chance to ask a question about the Nephilim (specifically how there could be some "afterward" as mentioned in Genesis 6, when they'd all been destroyed in the flood) which prompted a great deal of discussion. It's made me a little more comfortable about the theory I came up with for The Enclave, which I had begun wondering about lately.

Speaking of The Enclave, my editor has finished reading it, but will be out of the office for the next week until Monday the 7th when she'll be ready to talk to me about it. It seems weirdly appropriate that that should be the same day my mother begins her chemotherapy. I'm going with her and we expect to be there about 6 hours, so I probably won't be doing any book talk that day. We saw the doctor today, after the completion of all the tests, and it's become clear this will not be an easy process. But God chose it for our benefit and has His hand on it all. The important thing, I'm finding, is to stay in the moment and keep my mind out of the future.

Karen

Where is Matt?

I got this off one of the Hero Arts Blogger's sites (Jennifer McGuire, Ink). It's good for a smile, she says, and I believe it is. At least it got a smile (or two) out of me. Silly, but fun. Make sure your speakers and sound are on. And if it doesn't come through on the Feedblitz, check the website itself.



Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

Enjoy!

----

The Thief Strikes Again

[It's raining! As I write this. A thunderstorm blew into town today. Lots of lightning, not much thunder. We took Quigley to the dogpark and got sort of rained on while he played with a Rottweiler.]

So yesterday amidst the whole cut-up paper clip incident described in the last post, I had informed Quigley quite clearly that I was very unhappy with him for getting something and running away and eating it before I could see what it was... very unhappy. Not going to have anything to do with him unhappy. Banish him to the backyard without even doing tricks unhappy.

Okay, yes, when I found the clip and realized he wasn't going to die, after all, and we weren't going to have to spend $2000 after all I put all that behind me and let him back in, so it only lasted the morning.

But still, it didn't do very much good. At the end of the day, I was in the dining room and things got very quiet. I realized I didn't know where he was so I went into the living room and found him coming in from the bathroom -- actually I think he was looking for me. So I could see what he had: the roll of toilet paper in his mouth and the funniest look on his face. Kind of "I know I'm bad/Are we going to play?" He was too funny, so I took a picture, then got the treat and traded it for the toilet paper and he didn't run away but gave it up easily...

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Cut-Off Paper Clips

This morning I was supposed to take my mother to the outpatient services at the hospital to have an MRI. Yesterday in planning our timing, I said I would aim to pick her up at 7:40 barring any more crises (like the matter of the baby bird last week). But that, of course, having a dog, a crisis was not wholly unexpected.

And I'd just posted yesterday some of Sun Tzu's principles of strategic keys to victory.

So of course, there was a crisis. Yesterday I tried to fix my broken purse shoulder strap clasp with a cut off paper clip, a cockamamie idea whose efficacy and wisdom I even wondered about at the time. The spring had come out, you see, so the little latch had nothing to hold it in place and the strap came off the D-ring every time I set the purse down. So I cut off the end of a paper clip, squeezed the "U" end into a "V" and stuck it into the spring hole, holding the latch in place. That seemed to do the trick and I hung my purse on the back of the dining room table chair where I always do.

Later, Quigley had some sort of weird fit there, chasing his tail, biting it, tugging on it, going round and round as he caroomed off the walls, the dog crate and maybe the purse, though it was on the opposite side of the chair. Then this morning, as I was getting ready to go and all was progressing smoothly, Quigley suddenly romped from the dining room into the living room with something. He was tossing it about, falling down, rolling around, having a good old time as he often does with stolen things like socks, pens, a hair clip, a hair scrunchie and just as often, a piece of his chew. Since his reaction to me trying to see what he has is now to run away (grumble, steam) I decided to head him off by getting some sausage to offer him as a bribe. But as soon as he saw me coming he ran, chewing on the mystery object, and when I tried to get him, he scrambled under the coffee table, chewing even more. I had to haul him out by his hips. By the time I looked in his mouth, I found nothing but a few slimy bits of food. Whatever he'd gotten, it was gone.

"Fine!" I told him. "Eat whatever you find lying about and if it kills you, at least I won't have to deal with you any more!"

I put him outside, and about eight minutes before time to leave I picked up my purse, set it on the table, the strap fell off and I realized the cut-off paper clip "stay" was gone. I was immediately absolutely sure that was the mystery item he'd found earlier. And eaten. The three quarter-inch long metal V with two points on the end was now making its way through his digestive tract where it would surely penetrate delicate intestinal walls and kill him! I searched frantically in the dining room but found nothing. And I had to go.

So I went. While waiting at the hospital for my mother's hour long procedure to be completed, I called the vet. They'd see him on an emergency basis ($70 fee for that) and I set up an appointment. Then I went back to my chair and started thinking and talking with the Lord.
It just seemed like a set-up. I didn't know for sure Quigley had eaten the paper clip. It only seemed as if he had. And to have it all happen right before I left is so typical of events designed to test, whether from the Kingdom of darkness or from God Himself, making things look like they're one way, not giving me any way to be sure and forcing me to trust Him for some pre-ordained period of time. It also played in that I had to sit there in that waiting room alone for an hour, helpless to act, free to brood. I did not. I had brought a book and read it, determined not to spend any time imagining something that might turn out not to be true.

When I got home I prayed the Lord would show me where the paper clip V was, if not in Quigley's gullett. I looked thoroughly through the dining room now. Nothing. I cleaned the table, I moved the chairs and dog bed... nothing. I finally got the counter brush and began to sweep around the table legs and in the corners closest to where the purse had been. I swept up small wads of dog hair, two staples, some bits of gravel and dirt... no clip. So I moved to the other side, which seemed quite unlikely, swept at the crack between two cabinets, and all along the front. Then I pushed all the dirt into the dustpan and examined it. Still nothing. So I went back to the cabinets and there was the clip. As if it had fallen from the ceiling. Hallelujah! Thank you Lord!

I canceled the emergency vet appointment, and re-affirmed the concept that torturing yourself with what-ifs is always a bad idea. So is cutting up paper clips for any reason when you have a dog like Quigley. My purse clasp is now held together with duct tape, that wonderful all purpose adhesive/fastener! And the cut up paper clip V has been glued into my journal as a reminder not to be so stupid again. Though maybe I should fasten it with duct tape as well! In fact... I think I'll go do that right now.

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The Art of War

Principles from The Art of War by Sun Tzu

All warfare is based on deception, therefore:

When capable, feign incapacity;
When active, feign inactivity

When near, make it appear that you are far away
When far away, that you are near

Offer the enemy a bait to lure him in;
Feign disorder and strike him

When he concentrates, prepare against him;
When he is strong, avoid him

Anger his general and confuse him;
Pretend inferiority and encourage his arrogance

Keep him under a strain and wear him down.

When he is united, divide him

Attack where he is unprepared;
Sally out (erupt or bust out) when he does not suspect you.

These are the strategic keys to victory.

And these keys will be used by the Enemy against all those who are moving forward in the Plan of God for their lives. It's important to remember these things, so we can be aware of them when they are used against us .

2Co 2:11 ... so that no advantage would be taken of us by Satan, for we are not ignorant of his schemes.

Recover and Recharge

Today I read an article online about creativity fatigue. This is from Alexia Petrakos's post, "How to Recover and Recharge from Creative Burnout" on Collective Creatives - a cooperative artisan blog:

"Creativity comes in cycles. One month you’re churning out piece after piece, everything you put your hand to comes out fabulous. It seems like it’ll go on forever. You are the Productivity Queen! Next month you crash and burn. You can’t even bear to look at your studio, let alone make something. This is when you need to recognize the signs your body is sending. After a time of great creative work, your brain, spirit and body need a break. You’ve spent your creative energies and your well is dry. It’s time to recharge."

I think that I could paraphrase that second to last sentence to "after a lengthy period of sustained and concentrated creative work, your brain, emotions and body need a break." Now it applies to me. Some of the things she suggests are write in a journal, take a vacation, read a book, take a walk and sleep -- as in take more naps. She left out sit and stare out the window.

I have never experienced myself like this, being so without motivation. There are tons of things I should be doing... I should be catching up on all the cleaning that has been put off while I took care of the dog, nursed my trigger finger and wrote Enclave. (Instead, I'm just doing the bare minimum and one or two extra tasks a week). I should be answering my emails, but for some reason, can't seem to make myself do it. No words. I should be writing a newsletter but, again... can't seem to make myself do it. I should be cleaning out my files, backing them up, and reworking my website. I should be tackling all the house projects that have been put on hold while I was writing Enclave. But I can't seem to make myself do any of it.

Of course, I have been taking my mother round to her tests and doctor's appointments -- we have two more scheduled for the upcoming week, which isn't exactly a vacation, but sort of. It does seem to consume much of my energy for the day. And the heat doesn't help, either, since that always sucks the life out of you.

And we've been walking Quigley -- he and I went together around the park Saturday night and it was exquisite. After day of 107 degree temps, a sort of thunderstorm developed over the mountains and then dumped rain which sent a semi-sustained wind through the city. The temps dropped to the mid eighties during our walk (plus I love the wind) and it was downright comfortable. Quigley was as good on the walk as Bear ever was. It was wonderful.

My son returned from San Diego this weekend and we celebrated Father's Day on Saturday morning with breakfast at our favorite breakfast place, Millie's Pancake Haus. Those were all wonderful, fun things, but they take up time. And energy.

But beyond those things and the day to day requirements, I've mostly continued to spend my time making cards, playing with my stamps, ordering new ones and just sitting. I enjoy doing mindless things, like cutting out stamped images with small scissors. It's easy, and you make measurable progress. Plus I love looking at the shapes and colors and putting them together into pleasing designs.

It dawned on me today that I'm still tired. And that I'm tired in a way I've not been before -- not just physically but mentally and emotionally and ... willfully (?) That is, my capacity to make myself do things seems to be very weak. A friend in college told me today that she feels this way after a semester ends and it doesn't go away in a week (which I was expecting). More like a month.

I doubt I have a month, but I think I'm going to give myself grace here. It's been a difficult, confusing, chaotic year. I can continue to go gently and while I might not be napping, the sitting and staring, or playing with the cards, is a form of resting. A weird one, for me, but resting, nevertheless.

Baby Mockingbird

Here's our baby mockingbird. I wanted to take more pictures, but he didn't like the flash, which I'd never intended to use anyway, but by the time I figured out how to turn it off, he ran away every time I got out the camera. He has a little cubby in the fence that he can run to if something big and scary comes by. I feel better, knowing that. He seems like way-too-obvious dinner in his current, flightless state. In fact, I saw one of the parents fighting off a female grackle that was showing a bit too much interest in him. So I went out and scared it off!

Needless to say, Quigley had to stay mostly in the house again today. In fact, while I went with my mother to see the radiation oncologist, I left him in alone for the first time. He did great.

I washed windows, set up my new flatscreen, vacuumed and worked on a card with a cow on it. So again, I was mostly wordless.

Okay, my eyes are crossing. Time for bed!

Still Wordless

This is quite weird. I ended up looking through a rubber stamp catalog with my mother while we waited for the CAT scan on Monday. (Which, contrary to what I'd read on the Internet, took only 20 minutes, not the predicted hour.) After we had exhausted the rather skimpy catalog and she went away to be scanned, I still didn't read any of the stuff I'd brought, but looked through a Sunset magazine. As in, looked at the pictures...

Today I caught up on some chores and spent the rest of the day working on cards, figuring out layouts, playing with new stamps and papers, experimenting with different techniques and creating an "inspiration journal" that is really more like a "bungling..." er... "exploration and problem-solving" journal.

Oh, and we've had a baby mockingbird that has just jumped out of the nest in our back yard today. Quigley started barking up a storm this morning and I went out to see what he had. The bird ran away as soon as Quig was distracted and I managed to intercede before he really pounced. Whenever he finds something new, his first reaction is to bark frantically and keep his distance. Then as he gets braver it crescendos into The Pounce. Which is very energetic and would probably crush a baby bird. If not, The Pounce is followed by The Bite-And-Shread.

Later, I thought the bird was gone, so we went out again. (He looks like he's right at the edge of actually flying, but so far all I've seen him do is run) Quigley found him right away. He was standing in the grapefruit tree treewell, staring at Quig who was not barking but sniffing very cautiously and with great interest. His nose got maybe 10 inches from the bird, when the baby opened its beak, flapped its wings and chirped, where upon Quigley backpedaled frantically and got out of there. When he recovered his courage and came back for more, I told him to leave it alone. (More like, "No, no, no! Leave the baby bird alone! No!"). He actually listened and obeyed, though, and we went back inside.

He's spent most of the day inside, which was fine since it was 109 outside, and he finds that too hot. He's been unusually lethargic ever since this heat wave got going. We took him on the three mile walk around the park last night and he was really dragging at the end. Even though the humidity's at about 10 percent , so the evaporative cooler's been working really well. Of course there wasn't a cooler on the walk, and it was still something like 99 when we were out there. But Quigley's still something of a puppy at 8 months and this is his first Arizona summer. Plus he gets to lie around in the house all day, so he's not really getting acccustomed to 100+ temps.

If the bird's still out there tomorrow, I think I'm going to try to take a picture.

Quote of Note: Fraternity of Solitaries

"We belong to the same club: a secret fraternity of solitaries, shut-ins, and cranks, men and women who spend the better part of our time locked up in little rooms struggling to put words on a page. It is a strange way to live one's life, and only a person who had no choice would choose it as a calling. It is too arduous, too underpaid, too full of disappointments to be fit for anyone else. Talents vary, ambitions vary, but any writer worth his salt will tell you the same thing: To write a work of fiction, one must be free to say what one has to say." – Paul Auster in A Prayer for Salman Rushdie, 1995

Mostly Wordless

These are a pair of metal dog sculptures I saw on this year's garden tour. I thought they were fun!

Since I turned in The Enclave on Thursday, I've been mostly wordless and generally still decision-challenged. I've done a lot of napping and staring out of windows. I went to a stamping party Thursday night, made a couple of cards on Friday and Saturday, and played with my new stamps, two orders of which I bought while trying to finish Enclave, then refused to let myself use (or in one case even open the package) until I was done with the book.

I've done very little that has to do with words. I've hardly even gotten on the computer, and have had no words to answer emails. I've played a lot with Quigley and we've walked him or taken him to the dog park every day. (He's finally beginning to understand that when we say "no," we really do mean we don't want him to do whatever he's doing. My! What a concept!)

Oh and how about this for a "coincidence?" Now that the first draft is done, my trigger fingers are almost completely gone...

This week I hope to get back to my Flylady cleaning routines, which have mostly been dumped for some time now (at least the weekly ones; I've kept to the morning and evening ones). And also answer my backlog of emails, though I'm going to keep that to a minimum. I'm actually trying to not do things involving words. Tomorrow I'm going to go with my mother as she gets her CT scan, and probably will spend some time waiting. I'm so used to reading when I wait, I'm not sure what else I'd do. Maybe sketch.

I'll let you know.

Karen

Finally!

The first draft of The Enclave is DONE and turned in! Hooray!

I have no brain. I have been turned into a mannequin, spending a lot of time just sitting and staring out the window. (Though I did go to lunch with a friend today, and was actually able to carry on a conversation). Don't ask me to make a decision, though. It will produce more motionless staring.

But I'm done! I don't have to work on it for at least a week! I'll probably take more than that, though. And now I can take up the blog again, which was let go because I just didn't have the words to do it.

More later....

Karen

Quote of Note: Deadlines

I love deadlines. I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by.

-- Douglas Adams

This and That

Here is a picture of a pond with two heron sculptures that was in one of the gardens we toured last spring. The garden sits on the top of a hill but is surrounded by house and trees so it's very private. I just thought it was really cool. A lovely oasis in the hot desert (101 today)

My son left for San Diego today, after communion. In some ways it's weirdly disconcerting to have him gone and planning a life in another city. In others, the way our lives are these days, where technology and travel have closed the distance gaps that once would have meant you wouldn't even have contact for months or years, it doesn't seem so bad. He says he'll be back in three weeks. And three weeks is nothing. (Alas, when it comes to book progress)

I did email my editor last week, and she graciously gave me a few more days, so sometime this next week I plan to be done. Of course I've planned a lot of things that never happened, or happened differently, and I've written about the seeming futility of planning ("The mind of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps). I am currently working on drafting chapter 30. Chapters 1 - 25 and 27 are ready to go. Chs 26, 28, 29 await a final run through to fill the pot holes and put barricades up where the reader is likely to fall off a cliff. It dawned on me last week that I could put in something that wasn't so good, or even not right, and that would be better for someone reading it than the sudden drop off to an asterisk and then taking new things up with no warning.

At least I am now working on the ending. I've got a lot of material that I want to try and put together in the most economical way. I don't want to run on and on here. Unfortunately (for me) trying to be economical is a lot harder than running on and on. So today I didn't get much done. Well, mostly because of communion where some friends from northern Arizona were able to join us for the first time since January, and my son was leaving (neither of which inclined me to rush away immediately after service) and the shooting... Oh. I don't think I mentioned that, yet.

The road that many of us take to the home where we meet for church was the site of a town-spanning shooting spree which involved a police officer shot and not expected to live. The timing was such that as close as I can figure, the shooter in his red Mustang came barrelling down the road not long after I (and several others) had turned off into the gated community where we meet, and not long before the arrival of still others traveling the same path. The officer was shot maybe four or five hundred yards up the road from where we turned off. Talk about being reminded of God's protective hand and timing upon one's life!

Our hearts go out to the police officer and his family though. One of the things that struck me was that though there were several officers wounded in this spree, no civilians were. They did their jobs of protecting us, even though it may well cost one of them his life. Reminds you of the fact that they really do stand in the gap and do an awful lot to give us the peaceful and secure lives we mostly take for granted.

Gratefully,
Karen

General Hospital

Well, the obstacles and distractions continue right up to the end, it would seem. I really intended to start posting more after the Sunday May 18 post, but circumstances have prevented it. I can't remember what happened that next Monday, but something did and I do remember only being able to work for half a day.

About two weeks ago we learned my mother has breast cancer, and last Thursday we spent the day at the hospital with her while she had her surgery. The operation went splendidly, no blood loss, no problems whatsoever, which is pretty remarkable for an 80 year old woman. Of course many people were praying. We are waiting now to see if chemotherapy will be needed.

Friday, the next day, she was discharged from the hospital, and after driving her home, I come home and literally crashed. I was SO tired I just lay around all day and napped. Meanwhile, during all of that my husband was suffering from a very intense stomach flu. Saturday I got some good work in, but Sunday was church and also the day we were going to celebrate our son's birthday. We were to meet at 5pm.

About 4pm I went from feeling fine to feeling bad. By 6:30 I was in the bathroom losing my lunch (literally). It was the most intense bout of stomach flu/diarrhea I've ever had, which admittedly isn't saying a lot since I've rarely had the stomach flu. I think the last time was when I was a kid.

The second day, Monday, I couldn't sit up for any longer than it took to take a few sips of water. I slept on and off pretty much all day. And visited the bathroom in between. So obviously I didn't get much work done then either.

It's so bizarre the way these things keep coming up, but I am getting used to it. In some ways I just want to get this book finished before something else happens! If only I had the energy. I'm not feeling too bad today, even went for a walk, though I still haven't been able to eat much more than dry toast in the way of solid food. Maybe tomorrow.

Believe it or not, though, things are progressing with The Enclave. I have 23 chapters ready to go, and six more drafted. Only one of those is really, really sketchy at this point (that would be ch 29, the one I started today). I think the book is going to go to 33 or maybe 35 chapters. But these are shorter chapters than were in Guardian-King, especially some of them. So it doesn't look utterly hopeless. I doubt I'll get it in by next Monday, but I'm now shooting for sometime that week for sure. Probably should let my editor know.

On the home stretch now!
Karen