The Influencer

Not to be confused with the Exterminator or Silencer or whatever the name of that show was--the rogue good-guy who always got his man. This is simply a shameless promotion for a fun summer read.

The blurb: Hillary Manton Lodge's Plain Jayne is the story of newspaper reporter Jayne Tate, who escapes to Oregon Amish Country, seeking solace and maybe a big story. But what's a latte-drinking, laptop-using, motorcycle-riding reporter to do when this life starts to change her?

I say read the book and find out!

I love this story for its fast pace, tight dialogue, and new twist on a much-used subject in Christian fiction. Hillary does a great job crafting characters with quirks and conflicts. She opens a window into the modern life of the Amish and gives us a glimpse of the tension between their world and our own. Her writing is all sprinkled through with personality--clever humor and catchy voice and not an adverb in sight! :-) Well, maybe one or two. My point, though, is that her sentences sing with action verbs.

A great debut novel for a lovely young writer. (Emphasis on young, but we won't hate her for it.)

And there's more! Her second novel in the Plain and Simple series, Simply Sara, comes out in September. (Thanks for the alliteration there, Hillary.) I'm looking forward to spending another evening or three with a familiar cast. Yes, I did say evening or three. Don't be surprised. I told you her writing is fast-paced.

Check out her funny and engaging blog. http://hillaryonwriting.blogspot.com/

He Da Man

No, not John Wayne. I'm referring to my brother. Have you seen the Two Weeks in Hell series on the Discovery Channel? It's a peek into the Green Beret Training Camp. My older brother ... been there, done that.

(I use him and my other two older brothers as my excuse for why I've never been naturally athletic. They stole it all before I was ever even a twinkle in my parents' eyes.)

At the time my bro went through that training, he was in his mid-twenties and in the best shape, he says, he's ever been in. And yet, twenty years later, he believes that if his younger self met his older self in a fight, the elder would win. (Why they would fight I have no idea. My focus is on age, here.) "Something to be said for experience and mental toughness."

As I inch a little farther into my forties, I find myself gazing longingly at those still noodling around in the decade just previous to mine. Deep down, I know what I'm doing ... Placing the knowledge and growth of me-now- on that 30-something self and wishing I could have been just a little bit wiser.

But it doesn't work that way, does it? We learn as we add the years to our lives, and there's a process and timing for all our seasons in the Lord.

Moses was eighty years old when God called him to deliver the Israelites. Zacharias and Elizabeth were well past the baby-having stage, for their culture, when they had John. David was an old man when he wrote some of his most poignant and powerful Psalms.

I love this from C.S. Lewis' Screwtape Letters: "He [God--from the demon Wormwood's persepective, the Enemy] would have them continually concerned either with eternity ... or with the Present--either meditating on their eternal union with, or separation from, Himself, or else obeying the present voice of conscience, bearing the present cross, receiving the present grace, giving thanks for the present pleasure. ... [T]he Present is all lit up with eternal rays."

"The Present is all lit up with eternal rays."

The Present. Eternity. That's a good place to rest in as I walk toward the future.

Crazy faith

Everywhere I look it seems I meet a person in need. Last night on the news, I heard that in the state of Oregon, one in five households have applied for food stamps. Many who have never used state services are now unable to meet their monthly bills without them. It's crazy times.


And crazy times call for crazy faith. Here's my highly theological understanding of crazy faith: It simply receives. Receives the calling one has been given, without worrying about the outcome. Receives his Word as Truth, resting in (and often clinging to) the promises he gives as we ask for direction. Receives provision for our daily needs, with thankfulness and without guilt that we can't give anything back.


I was blown away the other day by the power of like. Consider this verse: Psalm 37:23--"The steps of a man are established by the Lord, and He delights in his way." The lexical definition for 'delights' from Strong's Key Word Study Bible: "to find pleasure, to take delight in, to be pleased with. Either man or God may have this feeling. It means to like someone or something very, very much."

How many of us have ever said of our children (or, ahem!) another family member, "I love _________, but I don't really like him/her right now"? In our Christian walk, we are well-schooled in the love of God. We know "God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son" so well we could recite it in our sleep. And that is an awesome, beautiful, all-encompassing love. But do we ever think about how he delights in us? Delight in a relationship speaks of the intimacy of it.

So back to this crazy faith idea. If our steps are established by the Lord, and he likes what he has established very, very much, then we can rest assured that he will see us down our path, however dark it may seem.

Just Do It

Without excuse or further ado, I'll just jump back into the blogging stratosphere after a nearly four month hiatus. Whew! Good thing I don't have a huge fan base yet. I might have lost everyone and had to start over.

My mom is staying with us this month, recovering from a broken hip. With her surprising decline over the past two years (the woman has been running at break-neck pace for almost eighty years) and my dad's death at the end of December, I have been thinking about that story in scripture when Mary pours expensive perfume all over Jesus's feet. Judas rebukes her, but Jesus receives her gift--"Leave her alone. It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial." (John 12:7) I love that image of a rich gift poured out on a life that is drawing to a close. Not wasted, but purposeful and intimate and, Jesus knew, motivated by love.

We had a week with my dad before he died. A week for my siblings and me to pour out on him the perfume of our love. Though he was unresponsive, I know he heard us and knew we were there. I know it prepared him for his burial. And us, for his passing.

I recognize it is not always easy. That week with Dad was as wrenching as it was beautiful. Mom has been diagnosed with Multiple System Atrophy, a type of Parkinson's in which the body is in a constant state of degeneration. She's plugging along pretty well right now, but her needs are many and varied, and well, let's just say she's the type who is not shy about voicing said needs. (wink) Still, that image returns ... the woman with the jar of costly nard, pouring out what she had to bless the one she loved.

It seems meet and right to go and do likewise.