Raindrops on Roses

Last week, it rained almost all week. 
When I was living in Seattle, the rain frustrated me. It was constant. All I could think about were wet socks, frizzy hair, cold fingers, dirty puddles, indoor mold. 
Now that I’m back in California, where showers are balanced with sunshine, it’s easier for me to be thankful for the rain. Now I go out in my rain boots with my camera, enjoying the beauty that the rain brings, especially to the rose garden. I’ve always loved taking close-ups of dew-studded roses. I hope you enjoy the results!

They’re little miracles, reminders of the beauty brought even by hardship, signs of joy even in the rain. They remind me of the song from The Sound of Music:

“Raindrops on roses, and whiskers on kittens…

 “bright copper kettles, and warm woolen mittens…

“brown paper packages, tied up with string…

“these are a few of my favorite things!”

Happy Monday! What’s beautiful in your world today?

Iona Day

April 11, last Wednesday, was Iona Day.

Never heard of it, you say? That’s because it’s my own private holiday. It’s the day that, two years ago, I visited the island of Iona, Scotland, and it became part of me.

Known as the Sacred Isle, this is the remote place where a community of Irish monks settled in 563 A.D. to fully devote themselves to the contemplation of God. Under the leadership of St. Colum Cille, they built a monastic community that drew saints and scholars from across Europe to worship and learn. (If you want to learn more, the delightful animated film The Secret of Kells gives a condensed glimpse at Iona’s history.)

This tiny island just three miles by one, isn’t on any of the lists of tourist destinations in Scotland: Edinburgh Castle, Isle of Skye, Loch Ness. And it requires an arduous journey, requiring six legs of travel just to get from the mainland to the island and back. Yet, of the two and a half months I spent studying abroad in the British Isles, that weekend side trip is the one that still nestles most closely to my heart.

On April 11, I was looking at the framed Iona postcard on my wall, at the Celtic cross hanging on my desk, and remembering. The day has become an anniversary for me. So I thought I’d invite you to share a vision of the place through an excerpt from the blog I kept while traveling. May it give you a glimpse of why I remember this place:

The water is unbelievably clear–it’s a stunning, Bahamas turquoise blue, with powdery white sand on the Iona shore. It made me feel like I was in a little Mediterranean, in the wrong hemisphere. Stepping off the boat, it was like entering a dream. The island has very limited cars, so the air is serene, and often silent, in a way you can’t get in a city, or even a regular town. This is a sacred city, an island wholly devoted to worship and prayer. It is like a cloud away from earth–a place of solace, a haven and sanctuary from the world. There was an ineffable grace about it that I can’t even describe. It made me want to weep and sing and stay forever. It is not just a city, but an island of God.


It was simply magical, and yet more than that–a stairway to heaven? My companions and I had only 2 1/2 precious hours to spend on shore, but they were beautiful. We had a picnic in the garden of the ruined nunnery, with butterflies on the hyacinths and daffodils in the sun. We walked through the ancient graveyard, where it is said Macbeth is buried (though I tried in vain to find his headstone), and I had the privilege of praying in a 900-year-old chapel. I just about died with delight. The abbey has ancient Celtic crosses in front of it, and peaked windows that let in shifting patterns of light. Sheep graze all about, and it makes sense that the Lord is our shepherd. Candles burn in the windows, and I saw prayers rising like incense. It is truly a place of peace, an island so practiced in worship that it is almost a scent you can breathe in on the air. And to see gardens blooming beside ancient stones–there’s something here that is out of my reach to express, but that touched me deeply. It’s not even worth asking if it was worth it to take six forms of public transportation to get here.

(you can read more about my Britain experiences here if you’d like.)

Iona Day is a time to remember this beautiful and healing place. Someday I’d love to go back.

What places have become a part of you? (home counts too!)

A Piece of Cake

This Monday takes the cake.

Literally.

I planned to start this week out by meeting my friend Ashley at Starbucks. Little did I expect her and her parents to step out of the car and hand me a big white box with a beautiful leather-bound book inside.

An edible book.

Yes, folks, that is a Les Miserables CAKE. I devoured Victor Hugo’s famous work my senior year of high school, and it’s been one of my favorite books ever since, but I never expected to literally be able to EAT it. 
Ashley and her mom Angie are amazing cake artisans (you can check out some of their other jaw-dropping creations here). Look at the incredible details!
Doesn’t the icing really look like leather? How cool is that? 

 And possibly my favorite detail: a big-eyed bookworm creeping around the corner 🙂

It even has my name on the spine! Thank you, Ashley and Angie, for kicking my week off to a great start. 
So, did anybody else find a surprise planted in their Monday? Or want to come over for some cake? 

Dancing

Last Friday I tried something new: ballroom dancing!
A small studio in town offers lessons during the day and an open dance floor at night. Teenagers in jeans, older men in spats, graceful Asian women in butterfly-twirling skirts toe-tapped and spun on the shiny wooden floor under the colorful shifting lights. The music alternated from Latin to pop as the quickstep, the two-step, the tango, the waltz were called. Far from the hormonal gyrating demonstrated on most dance floors, this was an art form–as structured as a fencing match, as regulated as a bicycle built for two, yet as flowing as the strains of music playing over the loudspeakers. 
 Graceful yet rigid, moving abruptly from fast-paced to legato, it was as fun to watch as to do. The best part was watching the couples who were equally matched in skill–not just executing the sequence of steps correctly, but playing it up with fun and flair. The experts ad-libbed their way through and made it look effortless. I myself have a long way to go before I attain that level of ease. For me, it was a victory to navigate a salsa spin without falling over.
File:Tango ballroom standard.png
Photo credit: Porfirio Landeros
 I discovered something interesting, though. Several experienced dancers invited me to try the cha-cha, the two-step, East Coast swing–dances I’ve never tried before. In spite of my protests, they insisted I could do it. And to my shock, they were right. 
Why? Because in the rigorous art form of pair dancing, there’s the amazing experience of being led. I thought successful dancing was about remembering all the right steps and individually keeping perfect time with the music. Not so. If your partner knows the steps and knows how to lead, you hardly need to think at all–just respond to the the subtle pressure of hands and wrists, follow the gentle pull of feet and shoulders.  
For me, that was a total image of following God.  When you’re a lone ballerina or hip-hop dancer, it’s fully up to you to remember the routine, execute all the steps perfectly. But when you’re with Someone who knows the dance better than you do, Someone strong yet filled with grace and control,  your job is just to listen to Him–to feel for His movements and just respond, just follow. It’s perichoresis: a Greek word one of my theology professors defined as the divine dance. It makes life more than just a challenging routine, a performance: it makes it a beautiful, intricate dance for two. 
I can imagine God singing the words in this lovely clip from the 2006 film Miss Potter, starring Renee Zellweger and Ewan McGregor. In just 50 seconds, it’s everything I wanted to say: 
What are your thoughts? How is life with God like dancing? Are there other parts of life where the same parallel shows up?  

Middle Earth, Dr. Seuss, and Shakespeare?

Hello, Monday! It’s time for a book-themed interview game, courtesy of Angela Wallace and her tag party
Rules:
1. Post the rules.
2. Answer the questions.
3. Pass the questions on to eleven people by tagging and linking to them.
4. Let them know you’ve tagged them.
If you could live in a fictional world, where would that be?
Somebody else’s fictional world? Middle Earth. But of course I’d love to visit my own if that were allowed 🙂 


Fiction or Nonfiction?
Definitely fiction (although nonfiction has its uses).


Do you read in noisy or quiet places?
Quiet places, with peppermint tea and scented candle preferred. But reading in noisy places is also something I’ve learned to do, thanks largely to my brother’s early influence 🙂

Do reviews influence your choice of reads?
Probably only if they’re by someone I know. Or if a large number of reviews are unanimous. The trouble with reviews is that people have all sorts of motives to say things, true or not. 

Audio books or Paperbacks?
Paperbacks. I have a horrible audio retention rate. Plus I like to write in my books 🙂 

What was the first book you ever read?
By myself? The first one I can remember is One Fish, Two Fish by Dr. Seuss. My preschool teacher informed my parents, “Um…did you know your daughter is reading?” 


Favorite author?
J.R.R. Tolkien…we fell in love when I was 8. Check out my Good Reads page for a list of my top 10. 

Classic or Modern Novels?Oh, definitely classics. Though there are a few moderns I like rather a lot. 

Have you ever met your favorite author?
I wish. The trouble with loving classics is that almost all of my favorite authors are dead (some for 200+ years)…

Book Groups or Solitary Reading?
Hm, both? I relax by reading alone, but after 4 years of college English classes, I find a good book discussion very stimulating. 
If you could only read one book for the rest of your life, what would it be?
Ack! What a horrible question! Definitely the Bible. But if we’re talking other literature…probably the Collected Works of Shakespeare (that’s not cheating, right?) 


Tag, You’re It! Have fun!
11. Carrie Daws 


Feel free to jump in: how would you answer these questions? What’s your weirdest book factoid?

Island-Building

When I was twelve, my family and I watched an island being formed.

The lava field on Hawaii’s Big Island looked like the surface of the moon. The black rock, brittle as glass, clawed at our shoes in a landscape where nothing lived. We stopped where the rock turned to a river: a slow ooze of hot lava, glowing dull red beneath its dark crust, hot enough to catch the tips of our walking sticks on fire. We watched it wriggle past our feet to the edge of a cliff, where it plunged into the sea in a waterfall of fire. There, beneath the waves, it was hardening, invisibly adding to the foundations of the Big Island.

Seven months into this freelancing adventure, I’m beginning to think about the cumulative effects of choices. The choices I make today don’t stand alone: they’re built on the choices I made yesterday and last month and last year. To move home after graduation. To pass up jumping for an immediate 9-to-5 job. To take seriously the gift of writing God has given me. All together, these choices start to form something: the new piece of land I am becoming.

Aristotle said, “We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit.” It is our cumulative, grace-guided choices that determine the people we will become. Making the right choices is easier when you have a precedent on which to build. It’s less difficult to see where you’re going next time you take a leap of faith.

But building a new island is difficult when you don’t know what you’re aiming for. When setting out in a new direction, the first choice (do I trust? Do I risk? Do I sacrifice?) is the scariest. Even the best of role models can’t project what results our choices will have. So when we decide to follow God’s call, to writing, knitting, homeschooling, ministry, or something else off the beaten path, it can feel like shooting off a cliff in a stream of hot lava, wondering if we’re actually going to build something new or just get swept away in the tide.

But, once again, when the first layer is laid, the next is easier–you’ve set yourself a standard to live up to.

A friend of mine demonstrated this a few weeks ago. She interviewed for two positions, the first less desirable than the second. After the first interview went well, she accepted a job offer there. Then, suddenly, she was offered a job at the second company. Instead of bailing out on her commitment to  #1, she turned down a desirable position in order to stick to her word.

Career-builders might scoff at her brave choice. But success is more than a ladder. In choosing to demonstrate integrity, my friend sacrificed immediate gain–but set a precedent for future choices and added another layer onto her island of character. When jobs vaporize and companies fail, that rock still stands.

Of course, there’s also a second way. It’s so natural that many people, especially those in my age group, opt for this one. It’s the easy way out. When faced with a tough choice to land a great job or keep your word, to indulge yourself or honor your family, to beat the established path or trust God to lead you in His way–many people just “go with their gut” and push the long-term implications out of mind. Like Scarlett O’Hara in the wonderful Gone with the Wind, we say “I’ll think about that later.”

But Rhett (always wise) comes back to her and says, “It’s hard to salvage jettisoned cargo and, if it is retrieved, it’s usually irreparably damaged. And I fear that when you can afford to fish up the honor and virtue and kindness you’ve thrown overboard, you’ll find they have suffered.” (ch. 43). It’s hard to go back once you’ve set a precedent of taking the easy way.

So what kind of an island are you building? If the choices we make today set a precedent, do you dare to take the leap, making choices based on vision, hope, faith? Will you start building from a blueprint you can’t see?

The Lucky 7 Meme

Welcome to the Lucky 7 Meme! This is a bit of Monday fun where writers get to read and share bits of their unpublished work. This game was passed on to me by my witty friend Laird Sapir. Thanks, Laird! 

Lucky 7 Meme



The rules:
1. Go to page 77 of your current manuscript/work-in-progress (or page 7 if you don’t have 77)
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines, sentences, or paragraphs, and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 authors, and let them know.

So here’s a sneak peek at my work-in-progress, a middle grades (ages 9-12) fantasy novel. It’s definitely still under construction…

Captain Daevin looked at them all and sighed. “I suppose we’ll start from the beginning.” He straightened his shoulders and raised his voice.

“All right! When I say salute, this is what I want to see!” He snapped his booted heels together. Then he tapped two fingers of his right hand to his left shoulder and flicked them crisply to his forehead. “I want two straight lines! Salute!”

In confusion, the children shuffled into two lines. Jude gently scooted Ellie a bit to the left. She tried to imitate the gesture Captain Daevin had performed.

“Not good enough!” barked the captain. “This is a military ship now! We must have discipline!”

They tried the salute nearly fifteen times before the captain would accept it as “good enough.” Then he brought out a crate and thunked it down on the floor before them.

“You are soldiers now! Our Enemy will not spare you because you are children. You must learn to fight back.” His eyes gleamed. “It is time to choose your weapons.”

The crate was only half-full and many of the things inside looked old and rusty. Broken pieces were scattered on the bottom. But Connor instantly dove in and pulled up a shiny metal object; a series of four rings with sharp points on them. He slipped them on his hand, where they gleamed like tiger claws. 

And now to choose the next Lucky 7! 

Compass Living

Are you a whole person?

I’ve been feeling tired a lot lately. Not just I-didn’t-get-enough-sleep kind of tired. The kind of tired that sets in the moment you wake up and see another sunrise–knowing it’s another day of the hamster wheel, running as fast as you can before you drop.

It’s called burnout. This kind of tiredness dulls my mind, numbs my creativity, and makes me feel excited about nothing. It feels like growing old before my time.

Why? I’m young and healthy; I’ve got a family who loves me and some great friends. I’m doing work I’m passionate about. Furthermore, I know God loves me–I have purpose and significance in that. But I’m still tired.

A tough conversation with my ever-wise friend Audry shed some light on the matter. (She also just posted a great blog about fighting off creative distractions here.) Whether your work is knitting, writing, painting, composing, or delivering sermons, you know that being creative takes a great deal of mental energy. It’s a God-like endeavor: creating ex nihilo, allowing us to be little singers of the Song of God.

But it’s draining.

And more than that–it’s crookedly draining. Creating involves a lot of sitting around and thinking, squeezing those little gray cells to imagine things that no one has ever seen before. Sometimes to put in those long stretches of intellectual labor on our Works In Progress, we shut everything else out.

But we humans are like four-pointed compasses. Rene Descartes only had part of the picture when he said, “I think, therefore I am.” Thinking is part of our being, but we’re also more. Being human means we’re not only brains, but also feelings, bodies, and souls. And if we only exercise our brains, we start to wear down all on one side like lopsided erasers, while simultaneously feeling unfulfilled in those other parts of being.

Maybe this was why I was tired. So this week I set out to experiment with my routine. I decided to give myself permission to stretch and exert the other three points of my compass, in hopes of restoring my mental freshness and creative vitality–and enjoying my life.

There are some things you know by studying about them. And there are other things you know only by doing them. One of these things is physical exertion. No amount of doctor-talk about the health benefits of exercise can describe how flushed and vital you feel after coming home from a 30-minute traipse in sprinkling rain, your head full of ideas and your blood pumping to write. Better still–a hike in the hills, overwhelmed with the beauty of emerald grass and shifting sunlight, brilliant poppies and clouds traveling overhead.

Another such thing of such indescribable value is time with people, and with God. E-mails and Facebook simply are not a substitute for time with friends, family, and the Holy One. You’ve got to have face-to-face time, quantity time, especially if you spend much of your work time in relatively isolated conditions. I’m a schedule-bent efficiency junkie, but I’m realizing that not taking time to be with people will kill my energy and desire to meet the day–so I’m actually more productive when I spend time with people, away from work. More time than just exchanging “good mornings” in the kitchen. Likewise, hasty prayers are like IOUs with God that stack up–they don’t bring the soul-healing peace of extended times of contemplation and praise.

Trying these things this week has brought the life rushing back into me–joy, energy, creativity, and a desire to live the life I have. It’s easier to be thankful when you take time to notice what’s around you: the beauty of the world in spring, the humor and kindness of the people around you, the way your lungs fill with air and your eyelashes sparkle in the sunlight. It brings back the wholeness of being human–the way life was intended to be.

What do you do in your schedule to nurture wholeness in your life? What are your habits for fostering mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual well-being? 

“Smile, Beautiful”

Well, spring doesn’t officially start until tomorrow. But the plum tree in my backyard doesn’t know the difference. Every year, it bursts into a puffy cloud of fragile pink blossoms. 
And every spring, it draws me irresistibly outside, camera in hand. 
Macro (close-up) photography has been one of my interests for a long time. In this world, it’s often the biggest, flashiest, noisiest things that attract the most notice. But macro photography focuses in on the tiny, the delicate, the overlooked, perfectly-formed, miniature miracles hiding in plain view. 
Like plum blossoms.
And to make things even more fun, this year my good friend Audry showed me some techniques with camera apertures. Oh boy. 

Turns out smaller F-stops (lens apertures) focus on smaller depths of field. They draw your eye to just one tiny part of the image.

Instead of getting overwhelmed by the whole, you can focus the intricate beauty of one part–and maybe see something there you never noticed before. Look at the different textures of the pink petals and the red encasement–smooth and bumpy, frilled and veined. So much detail in such a small space!

Isn’t God amazing? All this beauty, like getting a card in the mail for no reason. It’s just God saying, “Smile, beautiful. I made this for you.” 

 Happy spring! What tiny miracles can you find in your world today?

Why Work?

I spent yesterday morning in a tax accountant’s office, summing up the last year of my life in terms of dollars and cents. A rather dismal prospect, I must say.

Not only did I realize that I am living on a starving-artist budget, but I also realized that I can only keep about 70% of it, because the U.S. government is automatically entitled to the rest. Depressing.

On the bright side, it’s a blessing to have taxes to pay this year. It means I actually have work! After earning a degree in English and entering an extremely tight job market, work is a huge gift. And it means that dividing my time between writing, editing, tutoring, and blogging is more than a pipe dream. This is my job!

Which leads me to the lesson I learned from taxes yesterday.

Work is not, cannot be, just about making money. Many times I’ve thought of abandoning the writing and going to work in something more lucrative, just to have a good, steady salary. But what then? The more you make, the more the government takes (the joy of income tax). If you work hard and work is only for the purpose of making money, then poof! You lose 30% of your year’s labor every April. It just vaporizes, gone.

All that was left when I departed the tax accountant’s office were the other reasons I work–so I was glad I had some. Why work, other than for money? I think things like job satisfaction, knowledge that you’re helping people, pride in the quality of your work, good relationships with colleagues, and belief that what you’re doing matters to God and the world are what really matter in a job. No government can tax this income.

And when I started evaluating my jobs this way, I was encouraged. So I’m making peanuts? So what? I’m working with what I love (words), spending time in an environment I like, and believing that what I do with my time each day is making a difference. I’m following the vocation to which God has called me and sharing the words He’s given me with other people. I was made to do this work, and I’m doing it! Praise God!

And to top it off, I read this verse, Deuteronomy 12:7 last night, reminding me of the joy of good, God-blessed work: “You and your families shall eat and shall rejoice in everything you have put your hand to, because the LORD your God has blessed you.”

So is there really more to work than making money? What do you think makes a good job?