Into the Wild

Last Friday we rented the movie, Into the Wild, a Sean Penn production (that's almost an automatic strike against it in my book) based on the 1996 book of the same name by Jon Krakauer based on the life and unfortunate death of Chris McCandless at the age of 24. Some people, including Penn, regard McCandless as a hero, a pilgrim and a seeker of great... um... well.... I'm not sure. But you can go to some websites and read the burblings and ravings of people who view him (as portrayed in the movie) as an angel, a courageous and daring young man, an amazing individual who, had he lived, would have changed our world... Like this one HERE.

Well, I don't know too much about the real Chris McCandless, but the one as portrayed in the film was a completely self-absorbed twit who thought way more highly of himself than he ought to have and died because of it. But not before torturing his parents and his beloved sister with his wrong-headed... seeking. Or, to put it a bit more gently, he was a poor lost soul, with a hole in his heart only God could fill, but since he wasn't interested in God filling it, he could only wander about trying to fill it with other things.

The story begins with young McCandless entering the Alaskan wilderness in early spring, afoot, with a backpack, sleeping bag, and plastic water bottle tied to the outside. The man who drives him to his "launch site" hands him a pair of rubber boots as he is about to set off, telling him he'll need a good sturdy pair of rubber boots to keep his feet dry. This is a Clue.

Then the movie switches to the past where we see him graduating from college, apparently with flying colors, but with a real grudge/resentment problem toward his parents. They are horrible in his view and the cause of all his discontent, which is considerable, despite the fact he has everything -- a college degree, money, a family who actually cares about him, health, youth, good looks, etc. Of course, it's true none of those things are a true source of happiness, and his parents, like all parents, are people with old sin natures who've made their share of mistakes, but it was the utter ingratitude and judgmental spirit he had that I didn't like.

Once graduated, he endured a painful graduation celebration dinner with his despised and disrespected parents, then set off on his journey of whackiness ... er... self-discovery. First he donated all the money his parents had given him in a trust fund to charity, destroyed his credit cards, social security card, driver's license etc, and took off on a road trip.

When he parked in a dry wash in the desert during the rainy season (another Clue) and awoke as flash flood waters inundated it, driving it into the side of an arroyo and rendering it useless for driving, he, for some inexplicable reason took out all his cash and burned it. Then he began hitchhiking, wanting to be free, to have no rules, no restraints, no responsibilities, no ties... just floating along as he willed. Who needs money? He'd just hike along and live off the land.

Except he took rides from people who did need money, and spent it on the car he was riding in and the gas that powered it. He ate their food. He slept in their houses or travel trailers. So it was kind of... inconsistent.

And a little later, after he had burned the money, he went to work on a farming combine, because... I guess he needed money. Maybe we were supposed to see how foolish he was, and that he did eventually realize that money might be needed.

Anyway, the whole thing was all about him, his needs, his wants, his refusal to submit to any kind of rule he didn't like. No one was going to tell him what to do. No one was going to impinge on his freedom.

He moved through various people's lives, all of whom became enamored with him for some reason, only to be left heartbroken. Most of all he crushed his parents, disappearing without a word or hint of his intent, then never calling, writing, or making any attempt to contact them. He even changed his name, and did everything he could not to be found. Meanwhile, through his sister's eyes (she narrated the film) we see the agony he brought to his parents, which she seemed to think was justified (as did he).

I got the feeling throughout the movie that I was supposed to be admiring the guy, liking him, applauding him, but I just thought he was... well, what I said. Twit. Lost soul. Blind. Arrogant. Self-absorbed. None of those lead anywhere good. In this case, he was determined to go to Alaska and find himself. Find his answers. What is life about? What is happiness? Who am I?

My husband has relatives who live in Alaska, and we've been up there as a family a couple of times. We've also read a lot about the place, particularly about those who hunt there or go out there and try to survive. So we have a frame of reference for the kinds of things you need to do there. And everything McCandless did was just stupid and naive. He walked in with a ten pound bag of rice, lived there for about three months and starved to death in the height of summer. (Or maybe he died of eating poison leaves, as the film depicts. Or moldy seeds. Or bad water. Investigators still aren't sure.) He shot a moose, but had no idea how to butcher it, had made no preparation for doing so, and worse, no preparation for smoking the meat, which was his only means of preservation at the time. So he lost the entire carcass.

The weirdest thing to me was that after all that talk and drive about getting away from society and civilization, he finds an abandoned bus out there in the middle of nowhere, with everything provided -- heat, light, warmth, a bed, shelter -- and that's where he stayed. It seemed like such a contradiction. The guy goes out to the wilderness to get away from civilization and ends up staying in the only sign of civilization for miles.

If you want to read an interesting and balanced account of this odd tale, including quotes from various Alaskans about how easily McCandless could have gotten out rather than dying, go HERE.

The movie itself is beautifully done, and shot entirely on location, so you get to see Virginia, South Dakota, Arizona, California, Alaska. It has a sound track full of songs by Eddie Vedder and it was nominated for two academy awards. Sean Penn wrote the screenplay and won a best writer award from the Broadcast Film Critics Association Awards 2008. Emile Hirsche stars as McCandless and the cast includes Marcia Gay Hardin, William Hurt, Hal Holbrook, and Vince Vaughn.

It has actually sparked a lot of thought and conversation in our house. I think what it does best of all is illustrate the foolishness of the sin of independence, which has at its base the arrogance of being so completely focused on self and self's desires, that you lose all objectivity about life. Most particularly that we are all fools, and miserable and blundering around apart from God.

It did however give me a nightmare...

SPOILER!!!


At the film's end, McCandless, in a desperate search for something -- ANYTHING! -- to eat, is dining on the surrounding plants. When one of them makes him sick, he is shown discovering in his Edible plants guide the fact that he had mistaken an inedible plant for a good one and poisoned himself. The results were an inability to absorb nutrients, nausea, vomiting, paralysis and without treatment, death. Since he was trapped there, he thought, by the spring-swollen waters of a nearby river, he knew he was going to die. And eventually he did.

Right after watching the movie, I decided I didn't really like it, that it had bothered me in some way that made me think of Quigley, though I couldn't figure out what. Then, that night I dreamed that Quigley had eaten something he shouldn't eat and we all knew that he was going to die. I was very upset. In the dream. Awakened, I thought it was somewhat funny, especially since Quigley is like McCandless in more ways than just eating the wrong things...

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Monsoonal Return

It rained over the weekend, pretty hard, and they're forecasting a return of storms, which gives me an excuse to share this photo from a couple of months ago, when the sun was shining in the west and the rain was moving in from the east. I wasn't sure the rain would actually show up, but I think it does pretty well.

The chainlink in the foreground is part of a little "atrium" we have at the backyard gate so we can have two gates into the yard, sort of a safety/containment feature for Quigley. It's worked out pretty well for us, especially with him.

Also in the picture is Adam's old gym set, and to the right, behind the grapefruit tree, our no longer used pigeon loft. Originally it was a chicken coop, then we got rid of the chickens and a few years later, started raising homing pigeons. Here's an old picture of some of them:


Today I took my mother for her fourth and final chemotherapy treatment, and this time everything went smoothly again. She's still having sensitivity problems with the drugs, particularly in the days following the treatments so they are giving her prednisone to counteract that. The doctor tried to get her to go for two more weeks, but since the data supporting this treatment came from studies that used four treatments he didn't have hard facts to support his advice, only a "gut feeling." She'd had enough of it all, though, tired of feeling bad, which this time was for over two weeks, and came in there ready to quit.

Next up will be radiation treatments, which seem like they'll be much less troublesome, but one never knows.


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Sarah Palin

Wow! I am so impressed, so jazzed. I didn't hear her speech last night, but I read it online today and heard parts of it delivered in a video montage. It made me cry. I think from the pleasure of hearing so much common sense and of having so many of my values echoed. She is very cool. I loved the line about McCain being the only one of the men on the ticket who has actually fought for us. The only one who has ever really fought for us "in places where winning means survival and defeat means death."

I love that she has taken part in butchering a moose, that she rides snowmobiles... but mostly that she is so direct, and hits the issues straight on and clearly and also that she isn't afraid to take it to her opponents. The community organizer bit was hilarious. And so was the part about the Styrofoam Greek columns.

I love that she doesn't whine or complain, just jumps in to get the job done. Actually I had heard of her before last week, because we have a subscription to Alaska Magazine and there was an article on her a few months back. They mentioned the birth of baby Trig and his Downs Syndrome then; and also that she might be considered for the VP position.

She's dealt with a lot of difficulties, and is now going to be dealing with...the media. Though she may over match them, actually. Today I read somewhere that the media has finally found someone it's own size to pick on: a 17 year old girl.

As always though, I find these media frenzies to be fascinating. Its power much as I disdain it, is still very real. The photos, the videos, the words of supercilious commentators, the magazine covers, the endless criticisms and condescension coming through the air at us (well, except for the magazines). The lies, the distortions, the half truths, the omitted truths, the incredible overblown claims some of the candidates make when they have nothing to claim... it blows me away. I just cannot conceive of baldly lying like that, when the truth is so obvious or so easily proven. But I think I'm beginning to see that truth isn't always obvious to everyone, and bias can serve as very effective blinders. People really do tend to believe what they wish to believe.

And I find it interesting that today I should be looking at all of this and tonight the lesson began with reading from Eph 6:10-14.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of darkness against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places... all of those categories of demons of varying ranks.

"We have a strong, organized, intelligent enemy..."

And I thought about the nature of the attacks on Sarah Palin, and how we as Christians would do well to examine and take note of them, for it is a very open, overt illustration of how our enemy attacks us. Indeed, I believe the same source is responsible for both attacks. Not that the individual people who make the statements are demon possessed, though some may be. No, it's the whole system of thinking out there. A system that people suck up, partly from being continually barraged with it until they come to believe it, partly, as I said, because they want to believe it.

It's amazing to see the media machine go on the attack. Don't line up with what they believe to be true and right and they fling the actual issues out the window and go for their victim's jugular. Ad hominem attacks are the order of the day. And it doesn't even matter if the attacks are true. The only objective is to destroy.

I'm not saying Republicans are exempt from this behavior. I think it's one common to humans in general, one that has its origins in the thinking of the ruler of this world, Satan, the legal Adversary, the accuser of the brethren. The whole system that is attacking Sarah Palin stands as a small example of the much larger system that attacks God. Assaults and denigrates His character, impugns His motives, says He's something He's not, ignores His good works, looks for any excuse to blame and vilify. This larger system is across the board, varied, complex, subtle, and all around us. Its proponents work tirelessly to accomplish their goals, not just with non Christians but Christians too...

Which is one of the reasons we need to have our minds renewed with His thinking through Bible study on a daily basis.


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Enclave's Projected Cover

Well, I wasn't sure if this was going to be the final cover or not, and I'm still not sure, but since it's now showing up on Amazon, I figured I better give the readers of my blog a peek at it:

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Slamming Every Care On Him

Well, I've been more or less continuing to apply the principle of slamming every little care upon the Lord. But I keep questioning. There's been a lot of little cares, so I keep having to do it, over and over, and the thing that's hard is the not thinking about it part.

The latest was Enclave. Not just what am I going to do in it next, but what am I going to do, period? Should I listen to the part of me that's not wanting to work and do other things? Or should I force myself to do something? If so, what do I force myself to do?

On Sunday morning, I wrote in my journal: "Is it really that you slam every little thing on Him and don't think about it any more?" (Yes, I've been over this and over this. I'm a slow learner. I can't believe, I think, that it could be so easy. That I really DON'T have to figure it all out, come up with a plan and execute it.) As I said, it's the "don't think about it" part I'm struggling with. Though I'm not sure what I think "slam the cares on Him and leave them there" means except don't think about them, since it's the thinking about them that's the worry part...

Anyway, after writing that question, I took a shower, did my morning routine with Quigley then, as I got ready to eat breakfast, I opened one of my little books full of excerpted notes from Bible class. It was completely random, when you just open the book and expect to page through it to the place you're looking for. Only this time the page I opened to said:

God has given us instruction on how to walk and please Him. He has taken care of the trip. He knows where we're going and what we need and He's provided everything we need. DO WE BELIEVE THAT???

We've received advanced doctrines and motivation to continue to spiritual maturity and on into No-Man's Land, and we can excel still more. Going ahead will blow you away. But there'll be times YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT.

That's the whole point: believing more and more just how great God is, despite what eyes say or friends or your body, your bank account, the world. THAT'S ALL HE'S AFTER -- that in spite of all the chaos and nonsense and distraction and silliness, we stick. We continue to believe Him and trust Him.

Anyone who heard the lesson taught in Basics class tonight at Grace Bible Church in Massachusetts will recognize that the same concepts were communicated. I especially liked the part about how, just as God did everything for us concerning salvation while we were still his enemies, much more will He do even more everything for us concerning all that comes after now that we're His children. He has a plan and He's provided everything in it that I'll need to carry it out. And primary in that plan/provision is that I learn to think like He does, which means I learn who He is, more and more, and what His grace -- what His plan for me -- is really about.

Grace upon grace. Living grace upon salvation grace. As we came to Christ, so we are to walk. Not depending on ourselves and our ability to solve our problems or come up with a solution, but believing Him and waiting for Him.

So yesterday I did that. I told Him I was going to trust Him to move me to write, if that's what He wanted me to do. And if not, I would just enjoy my time in Him and not worry about it or guilt myself because of it. And it turns out, He didn't want me to write, because I didn't do a lick of it.

Today however, what was a blank field, an empty room, a solid, featureless wall, turned into a field of possibilities. Chapter 7 has begun to take shape and I did it today. Because I wasn't supposed to do it yesterday.

~~~

Lots of Rain

We stayed home for our four day Labor Day weekend, and endured a lot of rain at the wrong time. That is, rain that suddenly deluged right about the time we were getting ready to take Quigley for his walk (on two separate nights) so that we couldn't. Worse, we couldn't put him outside for shrieking either (I can't believe I worried we'd have a hound that made no noise!). Shrieking is what he's taken to doing at night when he wants you to do something (usually you have no idea what) or he wants you to stop doing something he doesn't like (for who knows what reason) -- thinks like cutting out a picture from a piece of paper, shaking water in an empty barbecue sauce bottle, trying to watch the news or working at the computer.

His shrieking is so loud it makes my ears ring. I can't stand it, and Stu doesn't like it much either. So eventually we put him out despite the rain. Then brought him back in... which meant lots of in and out and drying off and washing off of feet.

My son and his girlfriend were also here from San Diego. He stayed with us and she stayed with her grandparents who live here in Tucson. We spent some time with the two of them on Friday night. It was good to see them.

Honestly, I don't know what happened to the last four days, except that today I was really, really tired. That is no doubt partly due to the late hours we were keeping. I guess I did do a lot of stuff, even though it doesn't seem like I did because it was routine stuff or things like fixing breakfast and cleaning it up and washing sheets and cleaning out the office so someone could stay there... the kinds of activities one tends to disregard as anything worth noting or recalling.

I did try to get in some work on Enclave, Ch 7, but beyond noting that the entire existing chapter is totally lame and needs to be completely redone, I made no progress. I did try, but the blankness is upon me again. So I cast that care on the Lord and tried not to think about it, even though part of me is still insisting that it's irresponsible not to think about it and just trust Him to move me to do whatever needs doing at the right time. But since that's the only application that seems reasonable to me right now, I'm going to stick with it. He can surely straighten me out or make up for my misapplication, and that's what I'm going to rest in.

And now I'm going to go stretch and maybe take a bath. I did get most of my Monday chores done, so I won't have to worry about that tomorrow. Whether that means I'll push forward on Enclave remains to be seen.

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A Typical Day in August

So here's the way my days have gone lately.

I get up between 6:30 and 7, and go through my morning routine, which involves taking the dog out, dressing, making the bed, feeding the dog, training the dog, sweeping the floor, and putting a load of laundry in the washing machine.

Then it's time to eat, during which I enter my first dink around period. I intend to get right to work on the book, but instead, keep getting pulled off into other directions. For example, I go into the bedroom to get a pen, see the rubber stamp on the desk and decide to finish stamping my three new Hero Arts DesignBlock stamps into my catalog. Done with the first stamp, I discover the stamp cleaning pad is dirty and I have to clean it before I can go on. In the process of that, I discover something else and somehow... two hours disappear. Then I go in and start working. And may get sidetracked again by reading email and blogs.

Maybe another hour disappears. Then, annoyed with myself for all the dinking around I finally Get To Work. I concentrate for awhile, do some heavy thinking, tinkering, analysis. Figure out what exactly is happening, what exactly is bad, and maybe what I need to do about it. Or more often, just that I do need to do something, but not what I actually need to do. Then there might be more sidetracking. Walking about. Lying on the couch watching penguins.

At some point I hang out the clothes, brush Quigley and bring him in and this is always good for at least a half hour of distraction. I usually put him on an 8 minute stay sometime in there (we're working our way to half an hour) And I eat lunch.

Then more work interspersed with who knows what. Finally, Quigley hits his active stage and has to be put back outside because he's too annoying inside. Then it's time for Bible Class.

After that I start dinner and we go off to walk Quigley or visit the dog park. Then it's home, eat dinner and do the dishes amidst much moving of Quigley from the house to the back yard, to the house, to the yard, etc. (depending on his behavior, which is often bad in the evening). During this time I try to get a blog post in. Which maybe makes it obvious why sometimes I just can't get it together to do one.

Have a great Labor Day Weekend. We're in for lots of rain. (We're having a big thunderstorm right now, in fact.) I still love the rain, but I am very ready for all this humidity to GO AWAY.

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Kate Elliott's Take on Burnout

Well, I'm pretty tired tonight. I probably should do blogs in the morning when I'm not tired, except that's when I'm supposed to be writing novels.

Anyway, here's another view on burnout/creative exhaustion by SF/F writer Kate Elliott who, according to the bio on the site, "is the author of Spirit Gate, coming in October 2006. She has also written Crown of Stars, a seven volume fantasy novel starting with King’s Dragon, and The Novels of the Jaran, and has co-authored The Golden Key with Melanie Rawn and Jennifer Roberson. In her real life as Alis Rasmussen, she is particularly interested in history, archaeology, religion, exercise, and the joy of twins and schnauzers. Or you could talk to her about leyning. She lives in Hawaii."

I've read Jaran, years and years ago, the first in her Novels of the Jaran. I remember scenes from it, but no context and recall it in a favorable light, but after that, memory fails me.

Anyway, she has some interesting things to say about Burnout and Creative Exhaustion, which I found both encouraging and supportive of my own situation -- in that I need to be careful and not get on that "I'm going to FORCE myself to write no matter what." (And I could have today, but given that I'm simmering a new version of Chapter 6, I didn't)

I like what she has to say about writing versus creating: "An experienced writer possesses the skill set to produce words, but the ability to CREATE is not always present."

I also liked her connection between real world exhaustion and creative exhaustion, particularly in the realm of real world responsibilities eating up creative energy.

Much food for thought, for me anyway.

Here's the link: http://www.deepgenre.com/wordpress/kateelliott/craft/burnout

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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.


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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.

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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."

~~~~

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.


~~~~

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