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Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

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When we forget that victims aren't the only ones who suffer: Review of Refuse to Drown by Tim Kreider and Shawn Smucker

February 5, 2014

In the summer of 2007, a quiet community in Lancaster County, PA was shocked by a triple murder: three family members brutally stabbed in their home. Their college-age daughter survived because she was home earlier than expected.

In the summer of 2007, I was on my honeymoon, starting married life in Illinois. If I heard anything about this tragedy, I don’t remember, nor did I ever think I’d live in the same county where it took place.

I learned about these events through a book, written by a man with connections to the crime. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the authors in exchange for my review.)

Refuse to Drown front onlyRefuse to Drown by Tim Kreider and Shawn Smucker is the story of a father who lost his son. Because his son committed the crime.

Kreider’s son Alec was 16 when the murders occurred. He was best friends with the teenage son who died. For a month the murders went unsolved, and the Kreider family worried about the effect on Alec’s emotional and mental health. Then one day, the unthinkable happened: Alec confessed to the crime while receiving psychological treatment at a nearby mental health center.

Refuse to Drown is Kreider’s account of the month before the confession and the year that followed. In it he recounts his inner turmoil of making the unimaginable decision to turn in his son to the police, knowing that it would change all of their lives forever.

While much attention and sympathy is directed toward the families of crime victims–and rightly so–much less is given to the families of those who commit the crimes. Refuse to Drown is a powerful reminder that suffering occurs on both sides of a tragedy.

Kreider is courageous to go public with his story, even after six years have passed, because he opens himself to criticism for sharing it all. I’ve already seen comments to that effect. I don’t know the man, but his words on the pages don’t sound like a man out to hurt or cause pain. He’s deeply troubled by his son’s actions and has wrestled with his own actions as a father, wondering if he could have somehow prevented the act.

He speaks, and writes, his story today in an effort to draw other troubled teens out of their darkness and into the light. Kreider founded a non-profit aimed at helping people discover that they are not alone in their trials and struggles.

Refuse to Drown isn’t an easy book to read. The first few chapters read like a crime drama, full of suspense as you realize the killer is living in the house with the Kreider family but isn’t showing any clues that he did it. Then, when Alec confesses, the agony of his father’s decision is heartbreakingly honest. He doesn’t deny the temptation to protect his child and cover up the truth. Nor does he sugarcoat the emotional, physical and spiritual toll the tragedy took on his family.

He makes some poignant observations. Here are a few that stick with me.

Before the confession, these words:

“I am your father,” I told Alec many times in those days. “I love you and will always be here for you, no matter what.”

No matter what.

Have you ever thought about those words, what they actually mean? Sometimes we say those words and have no idea what the “what” might someday be. (42)

Later, after his son’s sentencing, Kreider describes what it’s like to visit him in prison. And he says this:

Sometimes I think, When I’m an old man, coming here to visit Alec, this is going to be a long walk. … I wonder who will visit Alec when his mother and I are gone. (185)

And a closing thought:

We shouldn’t be so hard on ourselves when we experience difficult moments, even if those moments turn into months or years. But what do we do with those moments? Do we give up and let them win, or do we refuse to drown and fight back to the surface?

Tim Kreider is a man who knows difficult moments and has come through them. His story is encouraging and full of hope for those in the midst of troubling times.

The book is available here and you can find updates on the story, as well as interviews with the author, on the Refuse to Drown Facebook page.

Filed Under: Non-fiction, The Weekly Read Tagged With: also-me, manheim township triple murder, mental illness, refuse to drown, shawn smucker, tim kreider, true crime stories

When it's hard to love winter

February 4, 2014

I’m trying to remember this today.winter beautiful bible

I’m trying to look for the beauty instead of worry about the snow that has fallen and the snow and ice that is to come.

I’m not always succeeding.

I’m ready for spring.

But I suspect that somehow this winter is preparation. That without the cold and snow and ice and disrupted schedules, life would be missing something. Maybe not life today. Maybe life tomorrow. Or springtime.

How glorious spring will be after a winter like this.

Today, I seek the beauty, even if I want to grumble.

Filed Under: faith & spirituality Tagged With: beauty, ecclesiastes, seasons, spring, winter

When it's all holy ground

February 3, 2014

Some of my holiest moments happen at the grocery store.

But before you dub me some supermarket saint, let me tell you this: I rarely go grocery shopping alone. Usually I’m accompanied by at least one child, sometimes two, and anxiety hits before we even pull into the parking lot.

I love to cook. I like to plan meals. Even the list-making is fun.

The actual walking into the store and navigating the aisles? Well, let’s just say there are days when being trapped in a preschool would be more comfortable.

I can’t pinpoint when it started. Sometime after we had kids. Maybe when we had to get government assistance and every transaction brought imagined judgment. Or maybe it was the loss of those benefits and the food budget being less than $100 a month. Or maybe it was none of those things.

All I know is that grocery shopping brings me to my knees.

Not literally, although that might help.

On a recent trip to the store for just a few things, I had both kids in tow. Our daughter was out of school early, and we needed to pick up a few things. And with cold and snow keeping us indoors, the kids were a little rowdy before we’d even gotten out of the car.

I gripped both their hands as we walked through the parking lot and breathed a prayer. Out loud. Which if anyone had seen me would make me look crazy, I’m sure.

Jesus, get us through this.

See, I’m the mom mumbling to herself about how much she just wants to get in and get out of the store without everything being touched. I just want to work through the list without chasing a 4-year-old halfway down an aisle or waiting for him to catch up while he hops on only the blue squares. I want to keep to ourselves and not have to pull my kids out of the path of other people’s carts. Inevitably, we’re the ones clogging the aisle for shoppers who are in as much of a hurry, or more, as we are.

Sometimes we choose the longer line so we’re forced to practice patience. To slow down. To deny the urge to rush.

Sometimes we choose to let other people go ahead of us because we know we’re going to take longer.

An older gentleman at Costco once invited himself to go ahead of us in line because all he had was a roasted chicken for his dinner that night. We gladly let him, and he thanked us over and over again.

It was nothing. And it was everything.

—

I’m at my worst on Sundays, the supposed holy day of the week.

I’m annoyed when I have to wake up earlier than I wanted because the kids have an internal alarm set to 6 a.m. I’m frustrated when I have to serve them breakfast before I’ve made my coffee. I’m irritated by what is inevitably a last-minute rush to get dressed and get out the door.

Actually, this is most mornings, not just Sundays.

snow holy

But because Sundays are supposed to be “holy,” I think that means they’re supposed to be perfect.

Everyone wakes up cheerful and kind. Everyone obeys in a timely manner. We calmly leave the house in plenty of time to arrive at church unhurried. After church we enjoy family time and all take a nap or at least a rest, and we start the week rejuvenated.

As I write this on a Sunday afternoon, there is one person napping in the house, and it’s not me. The kids’ idea of napping is reading books loudly in bed next to me or dragging everything out of their room into my newly cleaned kitchen so they can imagine an elaborate schoolroom.

The dishes overflow the sink; the laundry overflows the hamper. We have no plan for dinner except to survive it and put the kids to bed so we can finally, finally relax.

Maybe I feel guiltier on Sundays because I think I’m supposed to react differently, be different than all the other days of the week.

Or am I?

—

I was a new Christian, discovering my faith, when my best friend and I trekked across our college campus to pray in the chapel’s prayer room. I don’t remember if there was a specific need or if we were just meeting regularly to pray about our lives. We ran into a friend who had been raised Catholic and was walking away from religion. He asked us where we were going and we told him.

“But you don’t need to be in a church to pray,” he said.

I think we knew that but we needed a sacred space. Someplace where we could talk privately and pray confidently without interruption.

But his words stick with me, profound when I consider them years later.

I remember driving to a place in Wisconsin called Holy Hill, a national shrine, when I was young and knew almost nothing about God. (I still don’t know much.) We were on a visit to my grandmother, I think, and it was sort of in the area. We drove up the hill and never left the car, but we agreed that we felt something, even sitting in the parking lot.

A presence. Something special.

It was more than 20 years ago, and I still remember how I felt.

—

Jesus could have spent all his time in the temple. But He didn’t.

He walked all over Israel. He met people. He taught on the banks of lakes, while journeying from place to place, in people’s homes, and in the temple.

We call it The Holy Land. (I always imagine it in all caps.) I once mentioned to my brother that I wanted to visit Israel someday.

“Why? What’s there?” he asked. (I think he was testing me.)

“The Holy Land,” I said, as if it should be obvious.

He reminded me that it wasn’t just a holy land for Christians but for Jews and Muslims, too.

Annie Dillard wrote in For the Time Being of her experience visiting the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. She describes the place and how you descend and descend again until you’re able to reach into the spot where tradition says Jesus was born. For some it is a deeply significant visit.

Her reaction is this:

Any patch of ground anywhere smacks more of God’s presence on earth, to me, than did this marble grotto.

Part of me wants to disagree, but I can’t shake the truth in her statement.

sunset holy

—

Do I need to visit Israel to experience the holy?

Do I need to wait for Sunday to encounter God’s presence?

Do I need to be in church to worship or pray or confess or be forgiven?

Or do I carry it with me?

Can anywhere I walk be holy? Not because I have mastered holiness but precisely because I haven’t.

The holy person can hasten redemption and help mend heaven and earth.

Another quote from Dillard. Words that are still sinking deep into my soul.

Most days I feel far from holy.

But if those days drive me closer to the Holy One, then it’s not all bad.

When God meets me in my most unholy of moments, I find myself on holy ground.

When He meets me in my most holy moments, I find myself on holy ground.

When I’m in church or the grocery store or limping through the day waiting for bedtime.

When I’m grumbling or praising.

When I’m getting it right. When I’m getting it wrong.

It can all be holy ground.

A place where heaven meets earth.

Filed Under: Children & motherhood, faith & spirituality Tagged With: annie dillard, for the time being, grocery shopping, heaven meets earth, holiness, holy ground, holy hill, Sunday mornings

5 on Friday: Amish fiction redeeming the genre

January 31, 2014

The first Amish fiction I ever read was written by Beverly Lewis. I consumed every book I could find in the months after we moved to Amish country in Pennsylvania. Then the novelty wore off and I found myself bored by the premise.

In the past year, though, I’ve found some authors of Amish fiction who write some really good stories in unique settings and viewpoints. So, if you’re a fan of Amish fiction, here are five more authors and/or books to check out. If you’re not a fan, or you’re bored with what you’ve been reading, you might find something here to pique your interest.

1. Promise to Return by Elizabeth Byler Younts. promise to return

I don’t generally seek out Amish fiction but this one hooked me because of its unique time period: World War II. (Disclaimer: I received a free copy of the book from the publisher in exchange for my review.) “Amish” and “military” aren’t two words I’d think to put together, and author Elizabeth Byler Younts offers a sweet and heartbreaking look at how one Amish couple endured the war. She also writes with family knowledge and background of the Amish people lending an authority to her writing that I wouldn’t question. At times, though, I forgot the book was set in the 1940s because the Amish customs and lifestyle seem not to have changed much since then. It was only in the interactions with the non-Amish characters in the book that I remembered the time period. I enjoyed this debut novel and look forward to the next one in the series.

2. Leslie Gould’s The Courtships of Lancaster County series, which are based on Shakespere’s plays and set among the Amish. I’ve read the first two, Courting Cate, Gould’s take on The Taming of the Shrew and Adoring Addie, which is inspired by Romeo and Juliet. I’m a fan of retellings because I think they’re clever and take just as much (if not more) work than a completely original story. Both of these books are entertaining, and as a fan of Shakespeare, I can’t resist.

3. The Outcast by Jolina Petersheim. Another retelling of a classic, this time The Scarlet Letter. Technicially not Amish fiction, I count it in the same category because the setting is among Old Order Mennonites. For better or worse, the average reader of this genre (I am one of them) won’t see a lot of difference in setting. Unique points-of-view in the story and plenty of mystery as to who is the father of the out-of-wedlock baby. Again, points for creativity.

4. Mindy Starns Clark is a fabulous all-around writer, and while I’ve yet to read any of her co-authored Amish fiction, I’ve read some of her mysteries, two of which are set in Lancaster County. Secrets of Harmony Grove and Shadows of Lancaster County are thrilling and suspenseful. They give me just enough reason to try another set of Amish fiction books. Plus, I know she’s done her research. Clark is a semi-local to Amish country. She knows her stuff.

TheHiddenLife-cvr5. Shelley Adina writes two kinds of fiction: steampunk (which I’m dying to try now) and Amish. The latter she writes under the name Adina Senft. She also has family history with the Plain community. I recently read The Hidden Life, the second book in her Amish Quilt series, and I have to be honest, this one was my favorite of any I’ve mentioned here. (Oh, how I hate to play favorites with books. That’s like picking a favorite child!) The characters had such depth and a realness about them that I felt like I could stop by and visit. And I laughed. Like out loud. These characters were fun and had personality, something that is often lacking among Amish characters I’ve read. Yes, they live a different lifestyle than us, but they’re people after all. I appreciated the lightness of their conversations, as well as the seriousness of the situations they faced. I also found the pace of the dialogue and writing mimicked the natural speech patterns of Lancaster County. It felt like what I hear almost daily around here. I would read more Amish fiction if it was all written like this.

What about you: Do you tend toward the bonnet books? Why or why not?

Filed Under: 5 on Friday, Fiction Tagged With: adina senft, Amish fiction, elizabeth byler younts, jolina petersheim, leslie gould, mindy starns clark

How a book series made me long for a home I've never known: Review of Songs of the Shenandoah by Michael K. Reynolds

January 29, 2014

It’s been more than 15 years since I saw Ireland in the flesh. I was 20, a college student, spending an unforgettable semester studying in England, and some friends and I took a long weekend to explore the Emerald Isle. Even before our plane landed, I knew, in a way, I was home. The land spoke to me. Weird, right? I felt it in my soul.

And author Michael K. Reynolds put that into words with his Heirs of Ireland trilogy.

reynoldsquote

I just finished the final book in the series, Songs of the Shenandoah, and I’m sad to leave these characters and settings behind. This story takes place during the American Civil War, with brothers serving on opposite sides of the conflict, and older sister Clare covering the war for her husband’s newspaper in New York. Siblings Clare, Seamus, and Davin have traveled across oceans, into the American West, fought external and internal wars, and they’re desperate to be reunited. SongsoftheShenandoah_med-sm

Nothing is easy for this family. At times, their stories are heartbreaking, and you wish they’d catch a break. But in the end, the pain, the suffering, was always worth it. That’s a risk for a writer–to ruin your characters’ lives–because we readers want the characters to be happy. (I’m not the only one, right?) But the payoff is always better because of the hard times.

Reynolds writes poetically, almost lyrically, and each book is a work of art in its own right. Together, they are a masterpiece of fiction. I will read them again.

The series starts with Flight of the Earls and continues with In Golden Splendor, covering some significant periods of 1800s American history.

A bit of Irish blood runs through my veins, which may be why this series touches me so. And it leaves me longing for a land I’ve only seen briefly and remember mostly in pictures.

One of the best historical fiction family sagas I’ve read.

 

Filed Under: Fiction, The Weekly Read Tagged With: american civil war, heirs of ireland, historical fiction, irish ancestry, irish fiction, irish immigrants, michael k. reynolds, songs of the shenandoah, visiting ireland

When the picture isn't complete (and that's okay)

January 27, 2014

I started cross-stitching again. It’s this hobby I sort of start and stop and then start again. This time, it was part of my plan to enjoy life more. Because January brought with it the return of two of our favorite TV shows–Downton Abbey and Sherlock–in addition to all the Doctor Who we’ve been watching on Netflix. So, cross-stitching is my justification for spending hours watching TV at the end of a day. At least I’ll have something to show for it, besides having enjoyed a good visual story. I picked up this pattern I’d started years ago because I like to finish what I start, and it’s big enough that it will occupy me for months, probably, and I’ll be saved from having to make a decision about what to stitch  next.

cross stitch finished picThat’s what it will look like finished, Lord willing, someday.

In the meantime, this is where I’m at.

cross stitch frontI can catch glimpses of the final picture, but for the most part, I’m stitching green, green and more green. I finally switched to brown because I needed some variety.

Such is life.

Maybe you’ve been there. Everything feels the same, looks the same and you wonder if you’re getting anywhere with anything. Will your life ever look like you’ve envisioned?

Maybe. Maybe not.

But I believe all those green threads and brown ones, the drab and colorful, will all come together to make something beautiful.

It might just take time.

I’m not particularly good at cross-stitch. Inevitably I end up counting wrong and have to tear out some threads and start again or improvise so it still looks somewhat the same as the pattern.

cross stitch back knots

More often, I find myself in knots. A long thread will wrap around itself in the back and suddenly I’m unable to pull it through and continue.

The back of my cross-stitch creations are full of knots.

Such is life.

My past, my present, they’re full of knots too. Times when I’ve been careless or hurried or thoughtless or selfish. Some of the knots I don’t have a reason for. But they all keep me from moving ahead.

Sometimes I try to untangle them to save as much thread as possible. Other times, I have to cut them and start over.

Such is life.

But in the end, it’s not the knots and the stray threads and the mess-ups that matter.

It’s where I’m headed.

cross stitch plan picture

And how I’m getting there.

I can see how this cross-stitch picture will end. But I have a lot of work to do to get there. And it won’t finish itself.

In a way, such is life.

I believe God is making all things new. That the Creator, who created, has not finished creating, restoring and renewing. He hasn’t given up on this world or His people.

I can’t see what it will look, but I catch glimpses every now and then.

I see enough to believe that we–earth, humanity– are headed somewhere. But we have a lot of work to do. And God could finish it Himself. But what if He asked us to be part of it?

What if we’re creating, restoring, renewing the world in partnership with Him?

What if each of us all has one color of thread and we need to work together to complete the picture?

And what if we tie ourselves in knots trying to get it right?

Will we give up? Or will we untangle the webs, cut the strings and start over when necessary?

Will we keep moving forward until the picture is finished?

I don’t know about you but I’m overwhelmed by long-term projects. I like quick and easy.

But ours is not a quick and easy calling, is it?

What’s more, we might not see the picture completed. At least, not in our days on earth.

I think of the faithful ones listed in Hebrews 11, the heroes whose stories we teach in Sunday School. Yet this is said of them:

All these people were still living by faith when they died.

I said it before: I like to finish what I start. Although my track record with that dwindles daily.

So it’s hard to imagine that anything I’ve started or been a part of in my lifetime might not come to completion or be finished in my lifetime.

Just a chapter later in Hebrews, Jesus is called the “author and finisher” of our faith (King James version).

So, maybe it’s not my job to finish, but just to do my part.

I will finish the cross-stitch picture. I hope to complete my novel this year.

My faith, this journey, may never be finished.

And I think I can be okay with that.

Filed Under: arts and crafts, faith & spirituality Tagged With: arts and crafts, cross-stitching, doctor who, Downton Abbey, Hebrews 11, hobbies, living by faith, sherlock, unfinished work

5 on Friday: What to do for Human Trafficking Awareness Month

January 24, 2014

For Christmas, our family received matching bracelets, on which are written “It Matters To This One.” They were part of an adoption fundraiser, and though we have no connection to the family, we are 100-percent behind the sentiment.

Because we can’t change everything for everyone, but we can change one thing, or maybe some things, for a few.

ER-little good

January is Human Trafficking Awareness Month. And while human trafficking is an overwhelming issue–an estimated 27 million people enslaved around the world today–it doesn’t have to be a paralyzing one.

ER-human-trafficking-awareness

What will you do?

What can we do?

I don’t have a lot of answers, and frankly, I always want to do more than I’m currently doing.

ER-light

But here are five options.

1. Learn all you can about human trafficking. Maybe you don’t know what it is or why it’s a problem or how it affects your life. Maybe you have a basic understanding but you want to do something. Some good places to start online are Love146, IJM and The Exodus Road.

2. Get connected. I wouldn’t know what I do about human trafficking if I hadn’t connected with The Exodus Road more than a year ago to join their blogging partnership. Now that I’m aware of what they do, I’m more aware of what’s available in my city. A goal this year is to connect in person with one of the many organizations where I live that are working in anti-trafficking. Social media can only take you so far, but it’s a good place to start.

3. Shop better. We spend a lot of money on stuff. Wouldn’t it be great if some of that money helped people have a better life? My friends at Imagine Goods create jobs for women by commissioning dresses, tablecloths, bags, napkins, skirts and aprons, among other things. And they aren’t the only ones working to provide jobs, especially for women, that pay a fair and living wage in impoverished countries. When we pay a little more for the things we love–coffee, tea, clothing–we’re helping keep fellow human beings out of unsafe working conditions and overwhelming poverty. 

4. Tell others. I’ve learned the most about trafficking through people who are willing to speak up. I, in turn, am doing what I can to spread the word. You can start by sharing quotes on Facebook, retweeting Twitter statuses and pinning images on Pinterest. You have a network, and you can use it for good. We rarely are affected by something the first time we see it. But if we see it over and over again, from different circles of influence, we’re more likely to learn more and check it out.

5. Pray. You don’t have to believe in God to be involved in abolition, but if you do believe in God, I wonder why you wouldn’t want to be involved in abolition? Historically, the abolitionist movement has involved people of faith, and I believe prayer aids the work of freedom.

Let this benediction also be your prayer.

ER-blessing

Filed Under: faith & spirituality, missions, the exodus road Tagged With: abolition, human trafficking, human trafficking awareness month, international justice mission, love146, modern-day slavery, the exodus road

A guide to myself: Review of Quiet by Susan Cain

January 22, 2014

Ad: I use Grammarly’s plagiarism checker because crime doesn’t pay (but Grammarly does!).

It’s one thing to know you’re an introvert. It’s another thing entirely to know why and how it affects your behavior.

QUIET_paperback_High-Res_JacketThis is what Susan Cain’s book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World that Can’t Stop Talking has done for me. Part psychology study, part story, Quiet is a book I could not put down. And for non-fiction and me, that’s rare. Nearly every time I opened the book, I was hit with a new revelation about myself and my behavior. Meticulously researched, Cain writes in a way that is engaging and entertaining, not at all dry.

I don’t know at what age I started identifying myself as an introvert, but at least in my adult life, it’s something I’ve pretty much always accepted. And  it’s sometimes felt limiting. Like I couldn’t speak or lead or teach or make a real difference in the world because of my personality.

Cain’s book is an encouraging and empowering look at how introverts can make a difference because of, not in spite of, how they’re wired. We don’t have to be more like extroverts to be heard. For me, that is good news.

Quiet does not elevate introverts at the expense of extroverts, either. Cain emphasizes the need for both types to work together and not for one to become more like the other. Being an introvert is often seen as a weakness or defect in some professions, and Cain proposes that introverts can be an asset, even in those arenas that seem to favor extroverts. She also encourages introverts to find balance. If they have a job that requires more extroverted behavior, then they need to find balance by staying home at night more often or finding quiet time in the midst of the day. Even the floor plan and layout of desks in an office can affect an introvert’s mood and productivity.

When I worked as a newspaper reporter, I found myself playing extrovert daily. Phone calls. Interviews. Four-desk pods instead of cubicles. I see now that I would have been more effective, confident and satisfied in my job if I’d found these areas of balance Cain suggested.

Quiet is an invaluable resource for introverts and extroverts. For introverts, it’s encouraging and empowering. For extroverts, it’s eye-opening. I’d recommend it for either group, especially if you’re an extrovert leading an organization or are in a marriage between an introvert and extrovert. I learned some new things about my husband, an extrovert, and how we can better navigate our relationship. Cain includes insights and tips for parenting, too, which I found helpful. I believe we’re raising one of each–an extroverted daughter and an introverted son–and how we parent them will be different based on how we, the parents, are wired, too.

Overall, I call it a must-read. Period.

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A note about Grammarly: I first encountered Grammarly because of its clever writing-, word- and grammar-related posts on Facebook. I was offered a free trial and compensation in exchange for the text ad at the top of this post. I used the service on this post to check for grammar and plagiarism issues. The first time, I chose the wrong style of writing for review. There are six types to choose from; I picked “business” first which gave me a horrible rating. The second time around, I chose “casual,” which much more suits the style of this post. Better. I haven’t yet used Grammarly extensively, but I like the idea of it, especially if you’re writing a lot of papers. Check it out. It certainly won’t substitute for a human set of proofreading eyes, but it seems like a good second set of eyes. I’ve got a degree in communication and Grammarly is something I’d seriously consider as part of my writing toolbox.

Filed Under: Non-fiction, The Weekly Read Tagged With: book review, grammarly, introverts, non-fiction, quiet, susan cain

Where joy and pleasure meet

January 20, 2014

At my husband’s workplace, “my pleasure” is the standard response to “thank you.” Not “yep” or “no problem” or “you’re welcome” but “my pleasure.”

I never noticed it before he worked there, but it makes a huge difference in my attitude while dining out. And over time, I believe the team member when they say it.

I know that everyone has a bad day, but I also know that a bad day doesn’t have to ruin everything. Even if I started the day grumpy and didn’t want to serve people, if I HAD to say “my pleasure” throughout my day, eventually, I think it would be true. It would be my pleasure to serve.

Generally, it is not my pleasure to serve, especially when it comes to my family. I get tired of the endless laundry, the sticky juice spills in the kitchen, the clutter, the daily decisions of what to feed them and when. Some days, it’s more my pleasure than others, but most days, I’d rather serve myself.

Our son, whose ability to absorb the words and behaviors of those around him is like a superpower, has picked up on this phrase, my pleasure. If you say “thank you” to him, his four-year-old exuberance will reply “my pleasure!” He also says this when he sneezes, coughs and farts, and I won’t pretend to understand this boy humor.

—

Pleasure.

It’s a tricky word. One we might want to avoid because it sounds so worldly. I mean, can a Christian really experience pleasure without it sounding dirty? Instead we talk about joy and delight and occasionally happiness.

But those don’t quite capture the same emotion as pleasure. Merriam-Webster even uses “enjoyment” and “happiness” in its definition of pleasure. It adds “satisfaction,” and that’s part of it. There’s a sense of contentment in pleasure.

I’m not sure why, but I still bristle a bit when using this word.

I’m much more comfortable with practical. And purposeful. And functional.

Which is part of the reason my OneWord for this year is enjoy.

OW_enjoy

Because practical, purposeful, functional, I can do. Enjoy, not so much. This, then, is my challenge.

—

When we moved to this house, our landlord said we could plant flowers if we wanted to. I’m no gardener. I have more of a black thumb than a green one, but I’m increasingly interested in growing our own food and herbs.

Functional stuff.

Flowers, though? I don’t know. What’s the point?

Then this week I was reading in Genesis, about the garden God planted in the first days of creation. “Out of the ground the Lord God caused to grow every tree that is pleasing to the sight and good for food.” (Genesis 2:9, emphasis mine)

Say, what? God planted trees that were pretty and ones that produced food? I’m no Bible scholar so I can’t tell you if these are descriptors of two kinds of trees or if the trees that bear fruit are also pretty, but it made me pause.

Because beauty is its own purpose.

How gray and drab and dismal would the world be without the variety of flowers that grow. Can I really say that they serve no purpose because we can’t eat them or make medicine out of them? And maybe it’s just that we’ve forgotten their uses. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Because we need beauty, especially in a world that is increasingly ugly. Beautiful, pleasing things are subversive. A quiet revolt.

I think we might plant flowers. And grow herbs.

—

My focus this year is to “enjoy.” To say “yes” to fun when all I want to do is work. To rest in this place of bounty compared to the wilderness we just left. To trust in the goodness of God.

God knows it won’t be easy for me, and already, He is refreshing the dry land, drenching me with joy drops.

Words like these from Isaiah 62

As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so your God will rejoice over you. (verse 5)

Me? He will rejoice over me like a groom with his bride?

And

It will no longer be said to you, “Forsaken,”

Nor to your land will it any longer be said, “Desolate”;

But you will be called, “My delight is in her” (verse 4)

I know He speaks of Israel here, but that God is capable of delight and rejoicing over people is astonishing to me. God enjoys His people, whether they behave themselves or not. As He created trees that were both beautiful and nourishing, so He creates people who are both a delight and useful. But even if we weren’t “useful” to Him, is it wrong to think we might still be a delight to Him? If my children do nothing for me, don’t I still delight in them?

And this from Psalm 18

He brought me out into an open place; he rescued me because he delighted in me. (verse 19)

Life in the last few years has felt closed. Confined. Dark and cold. The last six months have been an emerging from that darkness. I feel as though I’m now standing in an open field with sunlight streaming down. Life is open. And I am free. I want to run and twirl and leap without looking over my shoulder for trouble.

—

This, then, is where joy begins. With God’s delight. His pleasure. His joy. In this He says, “Follow me. Let me show you how to enjoy life.”

And this will be the verse that leads me:

You will make known to me the path of life; In your presence is fullness of joy; In your right hand there are pleasures forever. (Psalm 16:11)

Filed Under: faith & spirituality, One Word 365 Tagged With: beauty, enjoy, gardening, happiness, joy, my pleasure, one word 365, planting flowers, pleasure, psalms

'School' Your Desk Kindle Giveaway | The Headmistress of Rosemere

January 18, 2014

Don’t miss Sarah Ladd’s latest Regency novel, The Headmistress of Rosemere. She is celebrating the release of book two in her Whispers on the Moors series with a fun “School” Your Desk Kindle Fire Giveaway and an Author Chat Facebook Party!

rosemere-400

Between January 17–28, visit Sarah Ladd’s Facebook Page to enter to win a new giveaway each day and be entered to win a Kindle Fire grand prize. Winners will be announced at the Facebook Author Chat party on January 28th! (Don’t have a Facebook account? Enter here.)



RSVP today for Sarah’s The Headmistress of Rosemere Author Chat Party on Facebook. During the party Sarah will be hosting a book chat, testing your Regency trivia skills, announcing the winner of the “School” Your Desk Giveaway, and giving away books, gift certificates, and more. Oh, and she’ll also be giving partygoers an exclusive look at the next book in the Whispers on the Moors series!

So grab your copy of The Headmistress of Rosemere and hope to see you on the evening of January 28th! (If you haven’t read the book, don’t let that stop you from coming!)

DON’T MISS A MOMENT OF THE FUN; RSVP TODAY. HOPE TO SEE YOU ON THE 28th!

Filed Under: giveaways, The Weekly Read Tagged With: headmistress of rosemere, kindle giveaway, litfuse publicity, regency fiction, sarah ladd

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Hi. I’m Lisa, and I’m glad you’re here. If we were meeting in real life, I’d offer you something to eat or drink while we sat on the porch letting the conversation wander as it does. That’s a little bit what this space is like. We talk about books and family and travel and food and running, whatever I might encounter in world. I’m looking for the beauty in the midst of it all, even the tough stuff. (You’ll find a lot of that here, too.) Thanks for stopping by. Stay as long as you like.

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