Another Story

I've written another story for the Faithwriters' competition - you can check out "Calming the Butterflies" and let me know what you think. I've stuffed a rather big theme into 750 words this time...

Faith and Zeal

Lately I’ve been participating in various blog discussions between Catholics and Protestants over a variety of differences between our faiths. I usually come away from these discussions feeling frustrated that, when we are all Christians, we can’t agree more. One challenge that has come up over and over again on these blogs is how do we know what is right. Several bloggers have attacked the Catholic Church, asking how I can believe what it claims and know that those claims are the truth.

The other morning when I was reading my Bible, one verse from Romans jumped out at me. Paul was talking about the Pharisees and commented, “I can testify about them that they are zealous for God, but their zeal is not based on knowledge” (10:2). I have met many zealous people online (I am probably one myself), so that verse comforted me with the thought that zeal does not mean a person is right. At the same time, it comes as a challenge, that zeal alone is not enough. We must know what we believe – our beliefs must be based on knowledge. So I must continue to read, to learn, to seek to understand, all that God wants to teach me, through His Word, His Church, His people.

Another topic that came up during these discussions was who will be saved. One blogger quoted a church council in the 1400s that said that anyone who was outside the Church would not be saved. I pointed out to him that in the 1400s, there was only one Church, so if you were outside the Church then you were not a believer and could not be saved. But today, we have many denominations, each claiming to be the “right” one and each claiming that the other (whether Catholic or Protestant) is wrong and won’t go to heaven. But Paul says, “If you confess with your mouth ‘Jesus is Lord’ and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved” (Romans 10:9). As far as I know, every Christian denomination confesses that.

Paul goes on to say, “For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile – the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on Him” (Romans 10:10, 12). I thought about how that would read if we put “Catholic and Protestant” in the place of “Jew and Gentile.” For the clashes that we go through today are similar to those Paul faced in his day. We believe slightly different things, yet we all serve the same God.

Retreat Reflections

Retreat.

Depending on the context that word is used in, it can be either negative or positive. Retreat is something that you do not want to do in a battle; you want to win, to advance, to conquer, not to withdraw in defeat or disarray. It means that somebody has given up on something; the first definition Webster gives for retreat is “an act or process of withdrawing especially from what is difficult, dangerous, or disagreeable.” That implies weakness, fear, inability to do something.

And yet more often that word is used in a positive sense. We speak of the places that we go to get away. Webster lists “refuge” as a synonym for retreat, “a place of privacy or safety.” It means almost the same as the above, I suppose, because we go there to get away from something difficult, dangerous, or disagreeable. But to use the word this way suggests that we have chosen the retreat, that we know we need it, and that when we return we will be able to face whatever it was that had battered us down before.

My husband and I spent last weekend on retreat with the other youth group leaders from our church. We didn’t go far – only to a camp about an hour out of the city, but what a difference that hour made. There we found a cozy bunkhouse and kitchen surrounded by trees and bushes, with a sports field and playground. From the porch, we could glimpse past all the trees the blue waters of the lake.

The parish priest came out Friday night to say Mass. After playing some games to get to know each other, we spent time praying together. The next day, we played, learned, prayed, listened. We got to know the other members of our group – the people we’ll be working with over the next year as we reach out to the youth of our church and community. We spent time with the One Who has called us to this, deepening our relationship with Him and thinking about how we can live our faith for the youth.

It was restful and relaxing, refreshing and fun. I needed that withdrawal, that chance to get away from the busyness of life and the little things that I too often let intrude on the more important things. I knew that I had unconsciously been too busy for God, that I had let myself grow far from Him and that was affecting the other relationships in my life. I was, in a way, in retreat from God, slowly getting pushed away from Him. The time away on the weekend gave me time to renew my relationship with Him and to once again seek refuge in Him so that I can face whatever difficult or disagreeable things life may throw at me.

"The LORD is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer;
my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield and the horn of my salvation.

He is my stronghold, my refuge and my saviour."

~2 Samuel 22:2-3

Meet Miralee Ferrell

One of the things I’ve enjoyed about blogging is discovering other bloggers who share similar interests – particularly, the large number of Christian writers out there. Miralee Ferrell’s blog caught my eye because her first book is about to go to print. She’s achieved something most writers only dream of – a publishing contract. Yet the journey isn’t over for her. Over the years, as I look toward the day when I’ll be pursuing publication for my own novels, I’ve learned a great deal about the publishing process. Selling a book to the publisher is only the start, because it is also usually up to the writer to “sell” the book to the reader. So check out Miralee’s blog or visit her website to read the first chapter of her novel. Below are some interview questions Miralee graciously allowed me to post here.

When did you first discover that you were a writer?
I thoroughly enjoyed composition in high school and excelled at it, and have always been an avid letter writer, but didn’t pursue writing as I got married after one year of college and started having kids a couple of years later, so had no time. Two years ago (with the kids long grown), I got a strong nudge from the Lord that I needed to return to writing and see what I could do with it. I had three magazine articles published the first few months after I started, then decided to write a Christian novel. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but had some excellent mentors who helped me in the process, and 15 months and a lot of work later, I had a contract for The Other Daughter.

Tell us about the kinds of books you enjoy reading.
I enjoy a wide range of genres. As a kid I loved reading Zane Grey, the old Nancy Drew books, Sue Barton nurse books, and as an older teen really got into the Gene Stratton Porter books (Freckles and Girl of the Limberlost, etc), as well as Harold Bell Wright, an amazing author. I still enjoy his work, and have added many Christian fiction writers to the list. I can’t begin to list them all, but to name just a few, Jan Karon, Francine Rivers, Linda Chaikin, Brandilynn Collins, Robin Lee Hatcher, and Alton Gansky. As you can see, there’s historical, mystery, suspense, and women’s fiction all mixed in there.

What other books have you written, whether published or not?
The first book I completed was a book about the journey the Lord brought my husband and I through, in our 35 years of marriage. I wrote it more for myself than anyone else, although it may be something my family will enjoy someday. It’s not just a book of memoirs, but one that contains teaching… it’s a mix of Christian living and true life stories. I’m currently finishing up the second book in the Homecoming Series, the sequel to The Other Daughter. It centers on Jeena, one of the secondary characters in the first book, and follows her through some very difficult times. I’m also working on a historical romance, with the heroine living on a horse ranch in the late 1880’s. Then I have a very rough outline of another women’s contemporary book that will be a stand alone, rather than a series. I’m probably the most excited about it, of everything I’m working on, as it’s a unique story idea that I’ve not seen done in fiction before. At least, nothing I’ve personally read….but that’s all I can tell you right now!

What is the problem with writing that was your greatest roadblock, and how did you overcome it?
When I first started, I had a hard time with point of view. I had two very faithful people who kept pointing it out to me and gave me examples of what I was doing wrong. I bought several great books on writing and began to study…but not until after I’d written my first book. I wanted my voice to come through, without worrying too much about ‘rules’… after reading and learning, I went back and began to edit and make necessary changes, while still keeping my voice intact. I also struggle with getting ideas for new books, but am slowly getting my ‘over 50’ brain turned on and tuned in to being creative again. I think it’s just taken time to get it out of the mothballs it’s been smothered in for so many years.

What advice would you give to an author just starting out?
Join a good writer’s group, and if at all possible an online or local critique group. I’ve learned so much from both in the past two years. My current book has been helped and gently corrected by my crit group and we four gals have a wonderful working relationship. Each has our own set of strengths that we bring to the group, and each has things that need to be strengthened, that we gain from the others. Never be too proud to ask for help, and by all means, don’t take a critique as personal criticism. You can only grow when you’re willing to hear the suggestions of others.

What would you like to tell us about The Other Daughter?
I’m tremendously excited about this book and the notice it’s gotten since the summary was posted online by my agent. As a result of her post, The Other Daughter was picked by a major motion picture studio to be reviewed as a potential family movie. At the time of this writing, the agent from the studio has read it, stated she really likes it, and is very interested in the possibility of obtaining an option. It remains to be seen if they make an offer, as there is some concern about the faith elements in the book, and whether the studio can accept them. With my publishers approval, I made changes that softened the faith elements, but didn’t do away with them altogether. It’s in the Lord’s hands, as He’s the one who brought the opportunity about in the first place.

I believe that the underlying message this book contains is one that most wives and mothers will relate to….the need to be in control of our family and circumstances, and the struggle to allow the Lord to be in charge, as well as the frustrations and dynamics that take place between Susanne and her husband David. I’d say that the most common response from my advance readers has been that they loved the characters. While it has a very strong plot, it’s almost equally character driven. I think the characters will come alive for the reader, and they’ll feel as though they’ve visited the little corner of the NW where the Carson family lives, by the time they’ve finished the book.

Any advice for those of us who are still dreaming of that first sale?
I know what I wish I would’ve had, when I started out. Critique partners… they are invaluable. I didn’t belong to a group until well into the writing of the second book in my series.

Don’t be too shy to ask for help and don’t be too proud to take constructive criticism of your work, when it’s offered. You don’t have to change everything that’s suggested, but if more than one person points out something that’s wrong, take it seriously and be willing to learn. And most of all, don’t give up. If you believe that God has given you the gift or desire to write, then be obedient, even if it’s never published. When I started out, I thought the best I’d attain would be publication in magazines….having a book published didn’t seem possible. I knew the Lord gave me this story and it needed to be written, and the rest would be up to Him. My responsibility was to write it, then keep moving forward in whatever direction He pointed out.

Marking the Milestones

My co-worker’s eyes darted from my face to my belly and back again as she said the usual “hello” and “how are you” of the morning. I knew what she was thinking, but I just returned her greeting. I was almost past her when she blurted out, “You aren’t even showing!” I laughed. She’s not the only one to complain about the fact that I don’t look pregnant yet. My girlfriends were vastly disappointed that I didn’t have even the slightest bulge to get in the way of my jeans, and my husband’s best friend called up to demand that we send him a picture as soon as there’s the smallest “bump.”

“Showing” is the next in the milestones of my pregnancy. When we started telling people we were pregnant, their first question was about morning sickness. Had I had any yet? At the time, the answer was no. I awaited it myself, as some sort of confirmation that I really did have a baby growing inside me. It came, not as bad as some women’s, and yet enough to keep me home from work on a couple mornings or to send me dashing for the bathroom occasionally. More unexpected was the exhaustion. My sister-in-law warned me about it, saying that on some days I’d have no energy at all because the baby was growing eyelashes or toenails.

I felt like I was eating like a horse – I was hungry, and if I wasn’t hungry, then a full stomach helped me feel better, so I’d eat anyways. I imagined myself putting on pounds that weren’t baby at all, until I weighed myself and realized I hadn’t gained a single pound for being so many weeks pregnant and eating so much. I guess all the food was required for growing eyelashes and toenails.

The came the waiting for the end of the first trimester, with its promise that the morning sickness would end and I’d have a “boost of energy.” My sister-in-law told me that was the best part of pregnancy, between the “I’m so sick” stage and “I feel like a house” stage. And then it happened… I got through a day feeling wonderful. Or rather, feeling normal, I suppose, but I’d forgotten what that felt like. I had energy. I could smile and chat with people at work. I wasn’t dragging through the day to take a nap at noon. And I’m still eating regular snacks, but the morning uckiness is gone. Hurrah!

And yet with each milestone accomplished, there’s still more to come. I haven’t bought any maternity clothes yet – I’m waiting to see when my clothes stop fitting before I go shopping. I did check some pattern books at Fabricland, to become vastly disappointed by the lack of style one can sew for oneself when pregnant. We heard the baby’s heartbeat at our last doctor’s appointment, but I’m still waiting for that first flutter of movement. And I realize that six months stretch ahead, with new developments all the way, until finally I hold this growing life in my arms.

Skoki Valley

My legs screamed at me as I took the first few steps away from the car. I adjusted my purse over my shoulder, pressed the button on the car lock, and hobbled around to meet my husband. He was limping, favoring his foot with the broken toe, and together we started across the crosswalk. The flashing hand seemed to keep time to each slow step we took and I wondered if we’d make it on time. Then we were on the sidewalk, wandering down the street, until we decided upon a restaurant and settled ourselves carefully into the cushioned chairs.

Legs stiffen up remarkably quickly when being confined to a car for an hour after four days of hiking. My husband had spent the drive between Lake Louise and Banff figuring out exactly how many kilometers we’d covered in those four days. Somewhere around 50 was the final number, I think. Not bad, as we’d been trying to take it easy.

The day before we left we finally decided on the trail to hike. He had spent a morning reading over the trail guide book and found several possibilities, which I managed to glance at quickly. The Skoki Valley seemed to fit our schedule and fitness level. Arriving in Banff , we announced we wanted to hike it. The lady at the desk was a bit dubious – it was, after all, the September long weekend and we’d chosen a fairly popular hike. We might not be able to stay in the campgrounds we wanted, she warned us as she called to check. She came off the phone smiling at our good luck. A family of Goofs (their real last name, apparently) had made reservations and then at the last minute cancelled one tent site – so we could go.

That evening we found ourselves dozing on the edge of Baker Lake after hiking there and setting up our tent. A few white clouds floated in the blue sky above, mosquitoes buzzed around us, and somewhere beyond the trees we could hear the occasional sound of the other campers. The wind lightly rippled the surface of the lake and the sun picked out every craggy crevice in the mountains towering over us.

The next day, as we moved from that campground to another, we made a dayhike to the Natural Bridge. My husband had liked the description in the book and I’d looked at it quickly enough to see how scenic it sounded and to miss the part of the “messy trail” getting there. We appeared to be in a group of a hardy few who ventured over the muddy, rooty, rocky, horse-trod trail that crossed the river three times (on logs) to finally reach the cataract that came pouring over a cliff, dropping down through a hole that formed a natural bridge over the river. Having gotten there, we admired the thing we had come to view, filled our water bottles, and then returned the 5 km to pick up our packs and go on to our camp for the night.

The third day found us clambering over a rockslide and then along a narrow trail that, if it weren’t so well-trod and well-marked, would have been called a goat trail, in search of Merlin Lake. A gorgeous blue mountain lake far below us seemed to answer that description, and we happily hiked around it, ate lunch on a rocky ledge halfway up the mountain, looked up the steep, rocky trail that continued, and decided to go back. On arriving at the Skoki Lodge for afternoon tea (chocolate chip cookies, banana bread, and hot tea – a rare treat on the trail!) we found out that we’d only actually seen a smaller lake that lay just below Merlin Lake . We studied the maps, half kicking ourselves for not pushing up over the last bit of the trail, and yet knowing that we’d both been tired and ready to turn back and, yes, we still had a few kilometers to hike over a pass to our next campground.

The day after that we packed up our camp for the last time and hiked out of the Skoki Valley. Our four days back there had been relaxing and fun and a good end to the summer. And if my legs were still sore the next day at work… well, I could just remember where they took me, and that made me smile.