Monthly Archives: June 2012

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06/29/2012

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A Princess Broken

I’ve already told you that I believe in other people’s dreams. I want this blog to be the kind of place where those dreams can be shared. So today I’m making room for Misty Gatlin to share about a literal dream that turned into something so much bigger than she ever imagined. That’s what dreams do.

So here’s where I ask Misty to share a little bit of her dream with you:

Tell us a little bit about yourself.
I’m a wife, mom, high school teacher and youth leader. I’m from a tiny little town in Northeast Texas where I graduated from the only high school in the district and in a class of 78 students. I now teach in a school district which has 4 high school campuses and graduates several thousand each year. I love hanging out with my kids, and I’m truly blessed with the life God has given me.

Can you give us a synopsis of the book?
Sarah defines herself as many things; broken, damaged, addicted, and hopeless. Hurt at an early age by someone dear to her, she retaliates by living a life filled with destruction. Her past has finally caught up with her, and she’s ready to call it quits. Her story unfolds when she meets a compassionate stranger who helps her realize past decisions don’t define who she is, and what she thought was the end of her story is only the beginning. A life-changing decision is placed in front of her, and she’s forced to face it head on. What will she choose, and where will that path lead her?

Can you tell us where you got the idea for A Princess Broken?
This book came to me in a dream one Sunday afternoon. I woke up and knew I was supposed to write a blog series, and I knew 3 things about it: The title, the reason for the title, and that the main character would have crown necklace she always carried with her. I knew nothing else about it, but I started writing anyway, and it just continued to grow.

I kept wanting to change the title to A Broken Princess, but I knew it wasn’t right. The entire storyline is based off this title. This is a story of brokenness AND redemption. The princess in her was never gone simply because she made mistakes and saw herself as broken. She just had to be shown that she was still a princess in God’s eyes.

I find it ironic that I’m a writer of fiction who published a non-fiction book and you’re a non-fiction writer who felt called to tell this story. In what ways did God stretch and grow you as you delved into this new aspect of writing?
God made these characters come alive in my head. He showed me that I could write something so real that the characters could easily come alive in the minds of the readers as well. I had to learn how to write everything I saw, felt, smelled, and experienced with the characters living in my mind. That was completely new to me and took me a while to get used to. I believe this book helped me become a better writer.

……………………………………………………………..

Knowing how much God shaped my writing through the process of Beyond Waiting, I have no doubts that Misty is a better writer now that she’s completed this work of fiction. I’m so excited for the places God is taking this dream and can’t wait to hear of how A Princess Broken has impacted the lives of its readers.

Thanks for sharing your dream, Misty!

 

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06/28/2012

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Becoming Approachable {A Guest Post}

I may have made a comment that got me in trouble. Or I may have made a comment that got me out of trouble. I’m still trying to decide.

All I know is that when Renee Johnson Fisher asked me to write a guest post about being approachable, I kind of freaked out. See, I don’t consider myself an authority on the subject.

At.

All.

So I thought of all the reasons I was unqualified to write this post, but then I thought maybe… just maybe… my disqualifications are actually qualifications in disguise.

Because maybe the person who is naturally approachable can’t write a post that resonates with the rest of us.

And maybe my story will encourage you on your journey of becoming approachable.

Read the story on Devotional Diva.

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06/26/2012

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Stand With Them

I’m not sure how much you know about the plight of Christians around the world. If you’re the typical American, it’s probably not much. After all, we’ve lived pretty sheltered lives here in the States. And it’s easy to get caught up in the here and now. Unless we are looking for something else, we only see what is happening around us. I don’t fault you for that. I’m often the same way. And I spent two years of my life working at a missions organization.

There are so many things I could have written today. My journals are littered with scattered thoughts of a hundred blog posts. I could have picked any one of them. But yesterday I learned that Christians in Nigeria are being murdered for their faith. Today I read that Egypt’s new president is pushing Shari’a law. And now, I can’t focus on anything other than my brothers and sisters around the world who are suffering in the midst of these circumstances… and other circumstances that have yet to reach my ears.

These people aren’t just an idea to me. Not a general, “Someone around the world is suffering.” They have names and faces. I’ve met them. Carried on conversations with them long into the night. And though they live in different countries and speak different languages and lead different lives, they are no different than you and me. Some of these people suffering are my friends. And even if they weren’t, they are fellow Christians. My brothers and sisters in the family of God.

It is my job, my honor, my pleasure to stand with them. To hurt because they hurt and to fear because they fear. But also to hope when they find it hard to hope and to pray with their same desperate cries as if I were suffering alongside them. Because I am suffering alongside them. And if you had the privilege of calling these precious people your friends, you’d be suffering too.

And I don’t usually do this, but since it is the singular cry of my heart this morning, I’m going to ask you to take a moment and pray. Pray for Egypt. Pray for Nigeria. Pray for every country in which someone is being persecuted today. Stand with your brothers and sisters around the world who are suffering for the sake of the Gospel. Cry their tears, taste their fears, and join your voices with theirs in a glorious song of hope and deliverance.

“Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.” ~Hebrews 13:3

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06/22/2012

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Learning to Thrive {A Guest Post}

I write about dreams. A lot. You might even say I’m obsessed with them. Which is good, I think, because, in a world that has forgotten how to experience the wonder of a fairytale, someone has to believe in dreams coming true. But I think I tend to focus on the pretty parts. I talk mostly about the wonder of the actual dreams rather than the tiresome details of making the dream happen. As a friend of mine once so eloquently phrased it, “It’s not glamorous.”

So today I’m sharing my story on The Girl That Sings. Today I’m giving you a glimpse into the not-so-glamorous side of dreams. But of course I’m going to tell you that it’s still worth it. Because…

“God doesn’t call us to stand on our own; He calls us to stand with Him. He won’t put a dream in our hearts and leave us to figure it out on our own.”

So be encouraged by the girl who survived and learned to thrive. Read the story here.

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06/18/2012

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Someone Else’s Dream

I got a phone call on Friday morning asking if I could bail a friend out and watch his kids on Saturday. In my mind I knew that there were twenty other things I should probably be doing. The rest of my weekend was completely booked and the only time I had to do all those things that needed to be done was Saturday morning. I probably should have spared myself the chaos and said no, but I didn’t.

And as I was making a dessert for another commitment and writing an article until eleven o’clock at night, I started to wonder why I had over-committed myself. Why was I putting off (or rushing through) all these need-to-do, have-to-do, want-to-do things so I could watch a couple of kids instead? The answer was pretty simple:

I believe in Isaiah’s dream.

You know how you can watch a ballerina dance or a musician play and get the feeling that the person was made for this? That’s how I felt the first time I saw Isaiah do a Wild Earth Encounters presentation.

And here my friend had been handed an amazing opportunity that he could only be part of if someone would watch his kids for a day. I couldn’t say no. Because the only thing more wonderful than chasing after your dreams is giving someone else an opportunity to chase theirs.

So believe in your dreams and pursue them with everything that is within you, but never become so focused on your dreams that you neglect someone else’s. Let your friends know that you believe in their dreams and always be willing to come alongside them and show your support.

Trust me, even on the craziest days you won’t regret it.

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06/15/2012

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You Are Worth It

Today, I’m at a loss for words. It happens from time to time. I keep typing letters onto the page only to delete them and try again. Still I find that my words are insufficient as everything within my heart tries to rush out all at once. The phrases jumble together. Trip over the next. And somehow I can’t seem to say how important it is that you know you are beautiful. That you understand that God doesn’t make mistakes. That you grasp the depth of His love for you.

But the words are missing and and those kinds of words have conditions, anyway. Not that I’m going to change my mind and take them back the next time you make a mistake, but because you will want me to take them back. Because you will argue that if I only knew who you are… What you’ve done…

I could say it all day in a thousand words or more, but until you believe them for yourself, my words are meaningless. Empty. I may be talking to someone in the world, but I’m certainly not talking to you.

Oh, but I am talking to you. You and you only. You’re the one who needs to hear it. And how I wish I could take your face in my hands like the preschoolers I spend time with every weekday afternoon. “Hey you,” I’d say, “you’re worth it. You are one incredible human being.” And I would mean it from the bottom of my heart. “Hey you,” I’d say, “you’re beautiful. You are one breathtaking masterpiece.” And I would pray those words wouldn’t bounce off of the carefully crafted wall you’ve built to protect yourself – the one that is actually harming you instead.

You’re the only one who can penetrate that wall. You’re the only one whose words are loud enough to force truth into the darkened corners of your wounded spirit. So please, take it from someone who sees what you are somehow missing, and tell yourself that you’re worth it.

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06/11/2012

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Unfinished Stories

Once upon a time there was a girl who weaved stories in her spare time ~ a girl who dreamed of touching the world in a way that was deep and true, poetic and magical. But this girl was told that she would never touch the world in such a way, that such dreams were made for the fairytales, and that “real life” as we call it doesn’t work that way. “Impossible,” they told her.

And sometimes she believed them.

But then there was Hope ~ a flimsy, fragile creature that alighted on her shoulder and whispered endless possibilities in her ear. And the heroine of this story had to choose between the cold reality the skeptics screamed and the joyous promise Hope offered.

The end.

Because, as Laini Taylor wrote in her book Daughter of Smoke and Bone, “The story is unfinished. The world is still waiting.”

The world still waits for hope and dreams and magical things that flutter around on fairy-like wings. The world still waits for promises kept and tears of compassion that haven’t been wept. The world still waits for someone who will step right over What Hasn’t Been Done and embrace All That They Should Do.

The world is waiting for you.

And while the unfinished story that started this post is entirely mine, you are an unfinished story, too. You’re an unfinished story with intricate details of a plot and a purpose that hasn’t been fully formed. You can write whatever you want on the pages of your life. You can choose to listen to what the skeptics scream or step up and embrace your impossible dream. And while what you should choose sounds so easy in writing, it’s hard to silence the skeptics. It’s hard to hold onto Hope.

That’s why I determined to let God finish my story. Because while I so often lose sight of the things that are important, God never does. So I promised Him that I would hold the pen if only He would guide my hand. And in light of my dangerous promise, God asked me to do something I had decided I never wanted to do again ~ at least not for a long time.

I’m working up a proposal for another non-fiction book. It’s about hopes and dreams and how God turns nobodies into somebodies, but that’s all I’m going to share for now.

After all, the story is unfinished, so I’ll have to leave you waiting.

In the meantime, go write a story of your own.

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06/08/2012

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“Hope Makes Its Own Magic.”

I’ve admitted before that it’s often hard for me to live the journey. It’s hard for me to find joy in the midst of the mundane. Day after day, I find myself whispering reminders to take back today. But the more I venture into the vulnerability of others’ writings, I’ve come to the conclusion that the fairytale spirit does come somewhat naturally to me.

Because I do believe in happy endings.
I do sing random songs as I’m cleaning the house.
I do let myself get caught in daydreams.
And I do dance with the fireflies on Midsummer’s Eve.

I don’t do all of that because it’s what I think I should do. I do it because it’s who I am.

Some of the stuff I’ve been reading here of late has been really dark. The subject matter is heavy and some of the quotes are capable of ripping my heart out of my chest. I could deal with all of that if it weren’t for the obvious lack of hope. When I read things like, “There’s no going back. It’s too late. What’s done is done,” I experience a range of emotions. First, I hurt for the person who wrote such disparaging words, then I get a little angry. I get angry because I can’t help but think, “How do you know it’s too late to bring beauty from these ashes? Who are you to say that you’re beyond Redemption’s reach?”

I get angry because there are people who try to limit God and destroy Hope.

And I know that some many people have lived far worse lives than I have. And I know there are situations beyond our control that are capable of knocking our feet out from under us. But I can’t comprehend the lack of Hope.

Because even on my darkest days, Hope lingers. And though I’ve written some pretty desperate journal entries and a couple dark poems, one thing differentiates them from the stuff I’ve been reading lately. It always ends with me waiting for rescue and believing that help is on the way. I always leave room for Hope.

Which takes me back to the story of Pandora’s Box.

Pandora. The young woman who released evil into the world and dared to let Hope in along with it. I think that the reason her story resonates with me is because I’m just like Pandora. I would open the box twice. Even after I’ve been burned by all that is evil, I would dare to take a chance on Hope. Maybe that makes me stupid. But at least it gives me Hope…

Today, I’m taking that gift I’ve been given and releasing it to the world. Embrace Hope, my friend, because life is such a cold, lonely place without it.

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06/05/2012

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Light Bulbs, Airplanes, and Impossible Dreams

“Fear wants to stop our stories,” Anne Jackson writes. And I think I’m going to have to read the chapter over again because all I saw was that simple sentence. So at the risk of writing something that might already be written let me tell you why that sentence stopped me in my tracks.

I think most of us are more aware of our dreams than we care to admit. When someone asks you what you want to do when you grow up and you reply, “I don’t know,” I’m inclined to wonder whether you honestly don’t know or whether you’re afraid of what you do know. Because Fear has a way of killing our dreams.

The thing about dreams is that they’re larger than life. Impossible, even. And maybe in your heart you know what you would really love to do if there were no possible way you could fail. So what do you want to do with your life?

And you’re still saying that you don’t know because the big question I just posed was “if.” I said “if” there was no possible way you could fail, but that’s just the thing. There are countless ways you could fail, says Fear. And if you fail, people are going to laugh. If you fail, you will have wasted your life. If you fail, you’ll have nothing to show for yourself but a pile of shattered dreams.

But listen closely before you close the door on your dreams, because Fear says the same thing I did. “If,” Fear whispers. “If.” And maybe all those things Fear says are true. People may laugh and your dreams may shatter if you fail. But there’s no guarantee that you will fail. And what’s the harder life to live – the life of someone who dared to pursue their dreams regardless of what the critics said or the life of someone who died having never attempted to do that one thing that beat in their heart?

One day your heart will stop beating and your dream will die with it. Unless… Unless you dared to give it life before you encountered death. Because some dreams outlive the dreamer. In fact, I would imagine that most dreams do.

Don’t believe me? Hit the nearest light switch and see what happens. What happens is all because Thomas Edison dared to dream that there was a better source of light than candles. And he burned a few candles in the process of making that dream a reality. A new friend of mine is boarding a plane back to Barcelona tonight, but I never would have even met her if the Wright brothers hadn’t quit their day job and decided to invent a flying machine.

Light bulbs and airplanes… Impossible dreams. You can bet that there were critics. You can bet that Fear screamed that it couldn’t be done. And history shows there were failures. The dream didn’t fall together in a day. There were setbacks and frustrations and things that didn’t work.

And you can bet that these dreamers got discouraged. But they didn’t let their temporary failures destroy their dreams. Because they knew in their hearts that lights were made for shining and men were made for flying and that, one day, in the not-so-distant future their dreams wouldn’t seem so impossible after all.