Life

Treasures

What is one of your treasured possessions? An interviewer recently asked me that question, and at first I wondered if it was a trick. We’re not supposed to “store up for ourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal,” are we? I pondered the question for a while and came to the conclusion that I was overanalyzing it. Interviewers are probably just as tired of asking the same old questions as authors are of answering them—so they asked me a new one. And when I think about it, the answer provides a pretty good glimpse into someone’s heart, “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

I’ve never been a “jewels and furs” kind of woman (to my husband’s great relief) nor do I treasure a closet full of expensive shoes or name-brand clothing. (Where would I ever wear them?) Yet most of us have things that we treasure for a variety of reasons—letters from a loved one, an heirloom trinket, family photographs, or our child’s plaster handprints—things that we would rescue if our house stood in the path of a forest fire. Their value doesn’t come from any monetary worth, but from what they mean to us. So here are three of my treasures:

This is my great-great-grandmother’s “crying cup” from Germany. I remember drinking from it at my grandmother’s house when I was a child, and she told me she remembered drinking from it at her grandmother’s house. I featured it in my novel Eve’s Daughters, and my publisher even included a picture of it on the book cover. Grandma would let me drink from it whenever I was crying or upset, and my tears would “magically” go away. It worked every time. The cup reminds me that our sorrow is easier to bear when it’s shared with someone we love.

This is my great grandmother’s clock. I’ve seen enough of these clocks in antiques stores to know that it wouldn’t bring $Big Buck$ on “Antiques Roadshow.” When my great-grandfather bought it in 1896, it cost $5 in the Sears Roebuck catalogue. I treasure the clock because it was his gift to my great-grandmother on the day my grandmother was born. I picture great-grandma lying in bed, exhausted after giving birth, holding her new baby in her arms, and in walks her proud husband with a gift for her—a clock! (Doesn’t every new mother long for a clock?) At least she would know what time it was when she woke up in the middle of the night to feed the baby. And maybe he wanted to remind her—and me—how fleeting time is, and that we need to treasure the hours we spend with loved ones.

This is an ancient oil lamp more than 2,700 years old. The little clay bowl doesn’t look like much, but it sits on display in a place of prominence in my office. I bought it when I traveled to Israel and worked as a volunteer on an archaeological dig for a month to research my first book, Gods and Kings. The novel retells the biblical story of King Hezekiah, and I wanted a souvenir from his time period— 700 BC. I bought it in an antiquities shop in Jerusalem that is licensed to authenticate and sell artifacts. What amazes me is that the lamp has remained intact for so many centuries. Jerusalem was completely destroyed twice during those centuries—once by the Babylonians in 586 BC and again by the Romans in 70 AD. Yet this simple clay oil lamp managed to survive. It also survived my three active children, numerous curious pets, and at least three long-distance moves. The lamp sits where I can see it every day to remind myself of Jesus’ words: “You are the light of the world . . . let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”

So . . . what is one of your treasured possessions? (It’s not a “trick” question.)

Recharging

Don’t you hate it when the batteries go dead on devices you rely on like cell phones and laptops and tablets? But when we use them incessantly without taking time to plug them in, they eventually run down and stop working. After a year of hard work, I just completed another novel, and I have to admit that my creative batteries are dead. Totally dry. Used up. It’s time to take a break from writing (even if it’s a
very short one) and recharge my batteries. How will I do it? I think everyone has to discover the best way they personally recharge, but here’s what works for me.

Reading – Of course I’m always reading. But as I race toward the finish line on my manuscript, I put in such
long days at the computer that I don’t have time to read for pleasure. I feel like I’m all out of words! I’ve used them all up! It’s time to fill my head and heart with lots of new ones. I’m heading to the library and the bookstore for piles and piles of books so I can gorge myself on them. I’ll know I’ve reached my fill when words of my own start playing in my head again.

Beauty – God’s creation is all around me if I take time to look, but when I’m under deadline, stopping to smell the roses just doesn’t happen. My world shrinks to two rooms—office and bedroom. I need to expand my world again and take time to notice the beautiful things all around me. Thankfully, I was blessed to enjoy my recharging session on gorgeous Sanibel Island in Florida last week. I enjoyed daily walks on shell-strewn beaches and bike rides through the island’s wildlife sanctuary. It doesn’t get much better than that! Now that I’m home, I’m noticing the snow-covered beauty of Michigan, and I’m ready to describe the beauty of God’s creation in my writing again.

Friends – Writing is a very solitary job. Sometimes it seems like the only people I talk to are my imaginary characters. To recharge, I need to spend quality time relaxing with real people—especially my friends and family. My husband and I were fortunate to have two of our dearest friends joining us on Sanibel. With plenty of feasting and laughter and bike rides, I came home filled to overflowing, and ready to write about the relationships that are so important in all our lives.

Quiet Time With God – Even though I have a regular morning devotional time, it often feels rushed when I’m under deadline. When I’m recharging, it’s wonderful to be able to spend time just relaxing and reading the Bible, along with devotional books from my favorite Christian authors. It’s wonderful to take time to enjoy fellowship with God the way I’ve enjoyed being with my friends in Florida. And I know that the spiritual wisdom from my fellow Christian writers will give me new thoughts and ideas to write about when I’m ready to return to the computer.

Unlike the Energizer bunny, we can’t keep going . . . and going . . . and going . . . What recharges your batteries? How about scheduling a break, even a small one, to power-up for the work God has given each of us to do?

Parade of Lights

For our first Christmas in our new community, my husband and I decided to get involved by volunteering to be marshals for the annual Parade of Lights. Our job, we were told during orientation, was to make sure everyone remained behind the orange safety cones that lined the street so no one would get run-over by the parade floats and fire engines or trampled by the marching bands. It was especially important to watch over the small children and keep them out of the road. Sound easy enough?

I thought so, too. What I didn’t realize was that the organizations sponsoring the floats would be tossing candy into the audience. And that dozens of foolish children would risk getting run over in order to get that candy. My simple job turned out to be not so simple.

I started by smiling sweetly and asking the dear little cherubs to please step back. “We wouldn’t want to get squished now, would we?” By the time the last float rolled past it took every ounce of willpower to keep from screaming, “GET OUT OF THE ROAD! Do you want to die for a lousy piece of candy?”

I confess that when my kids were small I was a helicopter mom, always hovering over them, worrying about all the terrible things that might happen if I didn’t remain vigilant. I realize now that it was because my writer’s imagination was always working overtime. I could easily visualize a multitude of plotlines for my children’s lives, and it was my job to make sure their stories ended happily-ever-after instead of in tragedy. It was exhausting. I envy mothers who lack this kind of imagination, never picturing their daughter’s prom date as a serial killer or their son’s class trip to the museum ending up on the evening news. My mothering—like my imagination—never went off-duty.

So here I was at the Parade of Lights, dressed in a glowing green safety vest, responsible for keeping the citizens of my town safe behind the orange cones—for an entire city block. In the dark. With candy showering down from heaven on the giddy, over-excited children. I’m sure the floats were beautiful. I didn’t see them. I’m sure the twinkling lights seemed magical. I was too busy trying to remember what I’d learned during orientation about emergencies. Because I could see potential emergencies everywhere!

Thankfully, none of the little darlings on “my” block got squished or trampled—although I may have come close to strangling one or two of them. Especially the kid who kept moving the safety cone into the street and insisting, “I am behind it!” But I was still imagining disasters as I lay in bed that night, trying to sleep, and I came to the conclusion that what I do for a living—writing novels—is a lot like being a safety marshal for the Parade of Lights. Here’s why.

There are things in life that are very beautiful—like the parade floats. And things that can harm us—like the parade floats. The trick is in knowing where to stand. As I used to tell my children, the safest place to be is in the will of God. Temptation, like candy, promises something sweet, but reaching for it may cost us our lives. It’s my hope, my prayer, that the stories I write will not only entertain readers, but will help them see that the choices we make have consequences. When we fail to stay behind the “orange safety cones” that God has given us in His Word—or when we foolishly try to move them—we are in danger. And to do so for something that won’t bring long-lasting satisfaction is foolish indeed. As I dream up characters and plotlines for my novels, what I’m really doing is showing readers where to stand, and what might happen if we yield to temptation. And also how blessed our lives can be when we choose to walk with Christ, the Light of the World.

As this New Year begins, please remember to stay behind the safety cones. “We wouldn’t want to get squished now, would we?” Don’t make me have to shout: “GET OUT OF THE ROAD! Do you want to die for a lousy piece of candy?” God has much better things planned for those who love Him. Enjoy the parade.

A Christmas Tradition

When I was growing up, my mother gave me the same, wonderful book for a Christmas gift every year. Mom was the librarian in the small village where we lived, and books were a fixture in our household for as long as I can remember. Mom loved to read aloud to my sisters and me, and classics such as Charlotte’s Web and Peter Pan were favorite bedtime stories. But the book Mom gave me every year for Christmas was Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. She didn’t wrap it up and place it beneath the tree with the other gifts, but instead, read it aloud to us on Christmas Eve. As we grew older, my sisters and I would choose parts to read aloud along with Mom’s narration—Marley’s ghost or Tiny Tim or maybe Scrooge himself.

This annual tradition of reading together as a family helped me understand the true meaning of Christmas. The holiday has little to do with shopping or stressing or consuming, and everything to do with spending time together, sharing our love for each other and, in my family’s case, sharing our love for stories and words.

Dickens’ timeless book is a much-needed reminder in our busy days that we need to pause and reflect on our lives from time to time, as Ebenezer Scrooge was forced to do. We need to make sure we have our priorities straight; that the love of money isn’t consuming us; that we’ve made time for our families, and time to express our faith and love for God. And if we’ve gotten off track, change is possible even for the most hard-hearted of Scrooges. As the characters in A Christmas Carol taught me year after year, love is at the heart of Christmas. “God bless us, everyone!”

Seasons of Change

Change is on the way. I see signs of it all around me as I go for my morning walks with my husband. The trees show it first, of course, their green leaves morphing to flaming shades of yellow, orange, gold and rust.

The park that overflowed with activity all summer is closed and shuttered for the season.

Nearly all of the boats have been hauled inland for the winter, leaving the docks deserted.

The boats look out of place standing forlornly on shore, sheathed in plastic blankets to weather the coming storms.

Even the beach is braced for what’s coming with snow-fences lined up against the winter snowdrifts.

As beautiful as fall is, there’s something in me that panics a little at all these signs, longing for everything to stay the same. In my book Pilgrimage I wrote:

“Change is such a huge part of life that we should be used to it by now. Instead, we resist. We’re tearful on the first day of kindergarten, fearful on the first day of high school, overwhelmed as we start college. A new job, a new spouse, a new baby—all of these changes are regular parts of a normal life, yet each of these milestones inaugurates enormous changes.”

Is it part of my human nature to resist, longing for everything to stay the same? I know it can’t. Pilgrimage tells about a season in my life when I experienced too many upheavals. But after traveling to Israel and walking in the footsteps of the heroes of my faith—Abraham, Sarah, Moses, David, and Jesus and His disciples—I realized that change is God’s template for our lives, not an anomaly. It’s how we grow in our spiritual walk, and how our faith grows. I returned home from my pilgrimage with these thoughts:

“Change will be good for me, not something to fear. It will strip away my self-sufficiency and self-reliance and force me to lean on God, to pray more, to trust Him, and to walk in faith with the One who invented change.”

The world around me is bracing for change, and I know that I must, too. Maybe God created the vivid changes of fall so we won’t be so surprised when it comes into our own lives but we’ll embrace it with joy, knowing that we serve an unchanging God.