Catching Up

Here I am once again, back after a long leave of absence.  I've missed my blogging and writing, but up till now I haven't had much of a chance to pursue this blog any further.  Of course, I've had time, but boosting up my energy levels has been pretty hard throughout my entire pregnancy, and especially of late.

I've almost reached the end of my pregnancy. Things are pretty different (and not to mention difficult). Ordinary, once-normal things like bending over to pick up something from the floor have become a major workout- and practically impossible.  A grocery trip is no longer a grocery trip.  Instead, it feels like a marathon.  And as for feet go (feet? what feet?! I don't remember what those are!), well...I've said enough about that.  I'm lucky just to get the dishes done and bed made in the morning before I doze off.  The activity of the feisty little girl inside me is enough to make all my energy fly out the window.

 

At lease, until a week or two ago. Now I'm practically bouncing off the walls in my anticipation.  At 37 weeks she was considered 'full-term,' and believe me, ever since then I've been going crazy, wondering each day if today was the day.  Unfortunately, here I am, a week and a half away from my due date, and still no baby.  I've scrubbed floors and the bathroom, did lots of laundry and all various aspects of housecleaning, and still no baby.  I've even ventured to climb a stairwell a...uh...few times (I was careful!).  Apparently she just isn't ready.

 

But, on a side note, that sweet baby girl, although she wakes me up in the middle of the night from movement or uncomfortable pain, is already the joy of my life.  Each day as I feel her move, it is the most amazing and humbling feeling in the world.  I have a baby growing inside me.

 

*whipsers in awe* I have a baby growing inside me.

 

Truly, each little (and not-so-little) kick, punch, stretch, roll, hiccup, kickpunchstretchrollhiccup, is definitely a little miracle of God, reminding me how blessed I am.  True, the not-so-fun side of pregnancy, including the morning sickness, stretchmarks, back pain, heartburn, weight gain, constant fatigue, uncomfortable nights of sleep (and no sleep), aching feet, and so forth, are a lot to deal with, but just the fact that I am the mother of a little girl soon-to-be-born, is so joyous, so unbelievabley amazing- the positive definitely outweighs the negative.

 

 

 

Even a baby who thinks that Mommy's bladder is her punching bag.  Forgive me if I have to run a few times as I write...I'll be right back.

 

Needless to say, life is a gift.  As I sit here and write, my laptop resting on my stomach and smiling as each baby-kick seems ready to pop right through my belly, I can't help but stop in wonder that soon, one day very soon (okay, okay, honestly, right now it doesn't feel like very soon!) my little girl will be resting in my arms, and I can hold her, snuggle with her, kiss her sweet cheeks, and love on her to my heart's content.  Sounds pretty good to me.

 

There is so much to accomplish in the next week and a half.  I can't wait until my life is jammed full of changing diapers, feedings, cuddling, baby baths, burpings, outfit changes five times a day, and all those fun baby moments, on top of all other homemaker duties there are.  There will be so much to do and I won't know what to do with myself.  Right now there is so much to do as well, but each new day that begins with good intentions usually ends up being just that- good intentions.  Over the past few weeks of my third trimester I felt like the only thing I got accomplished was eating and sleeping.  Imagine that.  So many women have told me that's just natural, and that I would get a boost of energy soon enough to get everything done before baby comes. I guess I've hit that stage now (not that the house is immaculate, but I feel like I've accomplished a lot).  The hospital bags have been packed for simply ages, the baby room is all prepared and waiting for the little one's arrival, and now thanks to the past few days, the house is in [almost] perfect order.  I've even added baked goods and a few meals to the freezer for good measure.  Yep, I am so ready.

 

 

 

So, for the time being, I'm just going to enjoy getting all this rest (from what I'm told, there won't be much time for it later).  Although the waiting is excruciating, I'm just going to enjoy feeling my baby kick and move around inside me, for it won't be long until I'll be missing that feeling.  For now, Little One, although Mommy and Daddy are eagerly awaiting your arrival, we will [try] to wait patiently for God's timing.  We know you are going to brighten our lives with your "ooh's" and "ahh's" and baby gurgles soon enough...but it isn't soon enough for us.  We're going to shower you with so much love you won't know what to do with it all.  You've been long awaited, and long expected.  Darling wee baby, you're going to fill our lives with so much joy!

I really can't wait to hold my baby.

God is Good...All the Time?

Scene 1: A happy-go-lucky Irishman sitting in his fields of ripe, golden wheat with a huge smile on his face.  The sun is shining brightly, the sky is blue with white, puffy clouds lazing around, and birds are chirping gaily.  It is the perfect day.  "God, You are just absolutely amazing!  This day is perfect, my fields are ready to be harvested, and I feel so happy to be alive!  Life is grand, and God, You are so good to me!  Yep, God is good."  He nods his head in affirmation of what he just said as he looks about his beautiful wheat once again.  "Yes, God is good, all the time!"

Scene 2:  The puffy white clouds have tuned black and menacing, while the sun no longer shines.  The wind begins to pick up dangerously as storm clouds threaten to unleash their fury.  The happy-go-lucky Irishman now has a furrow between his brow as he gazes up into the sky and then back at his wheat.  Harvesting was to begin tomorrow. Thunder roars, startling the Irishman.  He runs for cover as the clouds suddenly open up and let loose torrents of pouring, gushing rain.  He ducks into his barn, soaked to the skin.  Worry lines increase on his forehead.  What had happened to his perfect day?  Stark fear springs into his eyes as he hears an unwelcome sound.  He prays his ears deceive him.  But no, his eyes confirm it.  It was hail.  "No, oh no, my wheat.  God, why are You doing this?!  What happened to doing what is best for me?  Don't You understand, that wheat is my livelihood!  What will I feed my family with if I haven't any money?  God, You're supposed to be good all the time!  No, please no.  God, if You truly do what is best for me, stop this hail before it completely destroys my crop!  God?  God!"



Just what is a fair-weather friend?  Someone who is not steadfast; able to be relied upon only when things are going well, much like the Irishman in the story.  When everything was going according to his plan, he trusted and relied upon God.  Yes, God was good then.  But as soon as things didn't go according to the man's plan, he lashed out at God.

"And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." -Romans 8:28

To read the rest of this post, click here.

Hosted at Covenant Devotion.

When Dreams Come True

"Whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing, 

and obtaineth favor of the LORD." ~Proverbs 18:22

"To be a mother and homemaker and an environmental expert in designing a place for the particular blend of people which will be your family—to grow and develop—is an amazing possibility. To be at the same time a wife and a companion, an interesting, growing, changing, developing person in the eyes of the man you married—not for just two years nor twelve nor twenty nor thirty, but forty and fifty years—is an added portion of this career." ~Edith Schaeffer

Right now I'd say that my foremost wish (besides wanting to glorify God in all that I do) is to get married.  Yeah, that little-girl-dream all girls have.  Not because I want to escape the evil clutches of a tyrannical life at home, not because I want my woman's independence, not because I dislike being a daughter at home, but because I want to have a husband to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, to do his laundry, clean his house, make his meals, cook him scrumptious desserts, run to him and jump into his arms every day when he gets home from work, read a good book with him in bed, sneak chocolate and ice cream under the covers and giggle like secretive ten-year-olds, go walking in the park while holding hands and maybe even stop at the swing set, fall asleep on his shoulder under the stars on our front porch and have him carry me to bed, have him look deeply in my eyes and tell me how much he adores me as he whispers of my beauty (big imagination here), go on adventurous, romantic escapades, have our own candlelight dinners at home, give birth to his children, and on and on my simple list goes.

 

Okay.  I admit I have too many stars in my eyes.

 

Guess I forget to mention the countless times he will track muddy boots into the just-sparkling-clean house, the disagreements and arguments (hopefully those will be few and far in-between!), the time he will go to pick me up and drops me of all things (slow down on the chocolate, Rachel!), his grumpy mood after a long and tedious day at work, the nights he doesn't want to snuggle but goes right to sleep (bummer), the food I scorch, the times he is late coming home, my irritable moods, my impatience with the children when they are being too noisy in their play, the squalling baby who keeps me up every hour of the night, the day the washing and drying machine breaks down, the time I eat onions and he doesn't want to kiss me ("what's up with that, Honey?!"), the tears of frustration, the times when nothing in the house seems to stay clean,  and on and on this list can go.

 

It's a crazy world.  One moment we are living on the high of new love, and the next we are back to reality.  No worries.  That doesn't damper my desire to get married.  The good definitely far outweighs the bad.  Sometimes the cost is great, but the reward is just so much greater!

But because my aspiration to get married is greatly elevated, discontentment tends to seep into my life in paramount abundance.  Especially the older I grow.  God, my longing is too much to bear!  Marry me off soon...please?

 

Oh yes, I absolutely want to get married (and God, as a side note, soon...ahem...whenever You think best would be preferable!), but many times I approach my desire for marriage with the wrong attitude.  I'm telling God I know better concerning when I should get married, instead of submitting to His will.  Marriage is viewed with my two hungry eyes, regarding it as some earthly heavenly state more privileged than the one I'm in.  Not so.

 

Of course, as many married women can attest I'm sure, there is nothing compared to living with the love of your life, taking care of him, and all the benefits of marriage, but we unmarried gals still have a lot to learn that they already know.  Those married women already know that marriage isn't a bed of roses every day, every minute of the day (as wonderful as a bed of roses sounds).  There are problems to deal with, just as there are problems to deal with before we get married.

Oh well.  Life is life.  Life always have problems.  I for one am willing to take the problems with my dreams.  Dreams do come true, if you can recall Cinderella's story from back when you were five.  Maybe not in the fanciful fairytale Hollywood version of love, but dreams can become reality.  I know my dream to get married will come true one day, but in God's timing.  I simply have to trust Him with that epoch in my life.  I can feel the bliss just thinking about it...

 

If you think about it, dreams really do come true—the right kind of dreams that is.  Our dreams, hopes, desires, and expectations for the future must become God's desires (Psalm 37:4-5).  Only then will they come to pass.  We must give up ourselves completely to the will of God.  But guess what?  We will have a much more wonderful life because of it!  He will give us the desires of our hearts, because we will desire what God has in store for us—what He deems best.

When dreams come true.  It sounds like a fairytale.  Life is a fairytale of sorts sometimes, mixed with a heavy dose of realism and life (i.e. sin, fallen man, and the chore of daily living).  After all, life can't be all bliss and pleasure; life always has thorns with its roses.  Nevertheless, God is working all things for our good (Romans 8:28), and we should always remember that God's good is much better than our best.

 

 So I'll keep dreaming.  While living in the here and now.   One day my dreams will come true and I'll get to wear a fancy white dress and a veil with flowers in my hair and walk down the aisle on Daddy's arm to the man of my dreams who will be waiting at the alter. 

 

And I can hardly wait.

A Conversation-Monopolizing Bore

Or, How to [not] Become a Fanatical Conversationalist

The Story of a Cowardly Conversationalist

I laugh at myself when I think about this subject topic.  I am not a good conversationalist, and I never have been.  I always like to say that my speaking ability lies in the power of my pen.  I used to think that I would rather write a letter to a friend or family member so that I could say exactly what I wanted to say, than to speak to them in person as I trip over words and barely cover a third of what I wanted to say in the first place.  It’s a terrible weakness really.  I ought to push myself and exceed the minimal limits that I have placed upon myself, but I don’t know if I am that brave yet (although reading Stonewall Jackson’s Book of Maxims is greatly encouraging me).  However, I can say that I have come a long way since I was thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, and maybe even sixteen.  I feel a little bit more confident than I did then, but still not confident enough.  Self-confidence is just not my forte.

Between my fifteenth and sixteenth year I found out how much I exceedingly enjoyed to write (that is also when I really began to write poetry on a constant basis, and consequently I now have around 120 poems).  From some of my early years as a young girl I can still remember how much I loved to read, and even write short stories and poems, but it really kicked in as I grew older.  Although, there is one thing that I regret about my avid reading and writing: because I found a weak spot in my conversational skills, I retreated back into myself so that I would not have to face as much embarrassment.  Now I find out what a bad mistake that was.  Sometimes I think I’m going insane because I have all sorts of conversations—profound ones and trivial ones—with myself in my head because of my conversational cowardice.  I could give you an example to corroborate my story, but I don’t want my head psychoanalyzed.

I prefer the usage of majestic gargantuan words when I write.  You cannot conjecture the arduous quantity of time I exhaust exploring the reference publication listing of alphabetically arranged definitions for dexterous and zestful phrases and expressions to exhibit my cosmopolitan yearning of sophistication.   Okay, perhaps that last sentence was a bit ambiguous.  I definitely cannot do that in my regular everyday speech (my siblings would think I had lost it).  On the other hand, I think I tend to be more extreme when it comes to the words I use in writing because I would rather find the biggest and most delicious words in the dictionary to get my point across and not everybody know what I mean, than to use everyday proper language that I know people will understand.  I am not a big word type of person in my conversation though, no matter my aspirations to be one.  My writing is a different story, as you can see. 

So what exactly is a conversation-monopolizing bore?  Someone who dominates the tête-à-tête so that the other person can’t even get a word in edgewise?  I’d say that pretty much sums it up, including someone who is so lax in their conversation skills that the lagging conversation is downright b-o-r-i-n-g (guilty).  I know best what it is not, mostly because I am not the kind to greatly monopolize conversations...with strangers and friends anyway.  Then again, I, well, I’m afraid that I can be a wee bit overbearing with my siblings...oops.  But for the most part, I am apt to shy away into the background as a very backward, reserved, quiet little girl (I said for the most part).

I once heard the word cosmopolitan in a story a few years back and loved it.  Just say it aloud and you will know what I mean: cos-mo-pol-i-tan.  I love the sound of it!  Then I proceeded to look up its meaning because I had never heard the word before.  I found that it basically meant “from or knowing many parts of the world; sophisticated.”  Definitely me, in a wishful kind of sense.  Not that I am cultured or refined or traveled.  I used to hope that a dashing Christian millionaire would fall for me and we would travel the world (thus earning the cosmopolitan title), but now I think I was deceiving myself (Gal.6:3).  Besides, I don’t even know any dashing Christian millionaires, specifically who fit my ideal!  Okay, I’m getting a little off course here.

“Wherefore, my beloved brethren,
let every man be swift to hear,
slow to speak, slow to wrath.”
-James 1:19

Real meaningful conversation that doesn’t lag and isn’t boring consists of two parts: speaking and listening.  Awkward conversation is lopsided when one person does most of the talking, or when two people twiddle their thumbs not knowing what to say, but real conversation is what we want.  In real conversation (and when I say real I mean meaningful) there are two people communicating responsibly and maturely, both equally listening to what the other person has to say, and both equally participating in the talking aspect.

I am sure we all know that the most important person in conversation is the other person.  The way we can show this is by keeping eye contact, for as my dad says, this shows the other person that we are genuinely interested in what they have to say, and that we respect them enough to actually listen to them.  Most times we are too engrossed by what we want to say (our “wisdom,” or perhaps a favorite topic we are passionate about) that we often forget about the other person as we rattle off nonsense or even a legitimate subject matter.  What we don’t realize is that we damage relationships when we control conversation.  Plus, people then decide we are boring and don’t want to engage us in conversation again.   Look out—Rachel is coming—hide!

“Let the words of my mouth,
and the meditation of my heart,
be acceptable in Thy sight, O LORD,
my strength and my redeemer.”
-Psalm 19:14

While being a good listener is absolutely vital, the words that we speak are also just as important, for they reflect upon our characteristics and nature in general.  If all we do is prattle off whatever comes to our brain, we will likely be proven a fool.  Then again, if we use the hip and trendy language of the modern youth that really doesn’t make any sense (yaknow, like using, yaknow, like, words that, like, make no sense whatever man), we will still look (and sound) a fool.  The only way to exercise proper verbal communication is to think about what we are going to say before we say it.  This also eliminates any hurtful words that might pop out.  We are accountable to the Lord for everything we do, including the words of our mouth (Matt.12:36).  The easiest way to make a fool of oneself is to insert-foot-into-mouth.  How ever we do it, I can’t even comprehend, but we do it nevertheless.  Even reserved people such as myself.  But I have found out that the more jovial, open, and talkative one is, the easier it is to insert foot.  No offense, jovial, open, and talkative people.

I have always envied those who always know what to say, whether it be something witty and humorous, or a philosophical intelligent reply.  I am never anything of the kind.  I’m more the type who will think of that certain witty or intelligent remark hours later while lying in bed unable to sleep.  I’ll jerk straight up as if a lightning bold hit me: “Aha! I know just what too say!”  But by then it is far too late.  I’m afraid my intelligence comes none too quick.  Bummer.

Fortunately for me I don’t tend to monopolize conversations.  No, I’m more inclined to be just plain reserved and boring.  How humdrum.  On the contrary, I can remember being eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen even and terrible indecisive on what to say to a friend.  I remember one specific friend with whom I would sit on the couch at my grandparents’ house and barely say five words to when I was eleven.  How she ever put up with backward little me, I’ll never know.  The good news is that I have changed a little bit—not so shy, not so backward, not such a non-conversationalist, not such a freak—but I still don’t monopolize conversations. 

Who knows, I may get there yet.  But I doubt it.

Seventeen and Counting...

There's something about growing older that gives one nostalgic feeling.  Rapidly approaching my seventeenth year, I'm finding this more and more to be true.  I spent my entire little girlhood wanting to be sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and now that I'm what I used to want to be, I sometimes find myself wishing I had taken advantage of my little girl years.  Playing mommy with a baby doll just doesn't have the appeal it once did.

Three days until my seventeenth birthday.  Our school year has just ended and, thank heaven, I have basically finished my formal education, the academic part anyway.  Of course, the learning doesn't stop.  In the TV show Little House On The Prairie Laura asked Ma how long learning would take.  Ma wisely replied that all of life is learning, and it doesn't start or stop with going to or finishing school.  We learn all life long and never stop if we're wise.

I have mixed feelings about turning seventeen.  Given my little sister Clara's opinion, finishing school and being really close to eighteen equals marriage.  Where she gets that idea, I've no idea.  It's cute, though, the way she thinks once a girl hits the eighteen mark she should get married.  Does that mean that Mama was "underage" when she got married at seventeen?  A little girl's mind is funny sometimes.  But cute.  I ought to know—I was once one of them.

That's another thing about turning seventeen.  Mama got married in her seventeenth year, but I don't even have any prospects!  Is that a dismal outlook for a young woman or what?  I'll sheepishly admit that I recently watched a video of Joshua Harris talking about...gulp...contentment and waiting on God's timing.  Given the fact that I don't have any suitors lining up at my door (no, not even one suitor), I'd say I have another five or ten years at home, give or take (hopefully take).  Of course, that's just a guess.  I'd be more than pleasantly surprised if I'm proven wrong.  I'd better dig in for a long waiting period.  Or should I say preparing period? 

Not that I'm in a hurry to get married.  Sometimes I find myself actually not wanting to...just yet.  Well, it depends on my mood.  Getting on Facebook and seeing all the courtships and marriages, I'm more inclined to be a little bit capricious.

One more tactic complaint about turning seventeen. We were just told matter-of-factly that we have to move [again].  I've decided I don't like banks, even if they do keep people's money safe (personally, I believe even that is a myth).  An un-renewed lease is not fun, and sixty days is not long.  Please pray that God opens up a door that meets all of our needs.  Thankfully this move isn't going to affect us like other times because we will be in the same general vicinity.  Just in time for my birthday.  Just what every seventeen-year-old girl wants.  (That was said in sarcastic jest of course.)

This move is going to greatly affect my book writing mood.  What I had hoped would be six months of writing may turn into twelve.  Unless I can somehow fit my story's plot into packing.  Which I doubt.  I'll just have to put it on the back-burner for a while and trust God's timing.  Besides, this book is a fallback.  Priority comes first, no matter what I would rather be doing.

My posts will be few and sporadic, but I'll try to write occasionally.  Feel free to browse my blog, and maybe you'll find something interesting.  Okay, slim chance.

Adieu, my dear friends and blog readers! Until next time, God bless!

Living The Impossible

2010 has closed its door; 2011 has opened another.  This means God has not forsaken us, but has given us another chance at life, and another chance to live wholly for His glory.  Let's look at "living for God's glory" a moment.  1 Corinthians 10:31 says, "Whether therefore ye eat, or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." We may smile and nod our heads in righteous piety, but do we take this verse at its fullest context?  "I pray before I eat," we may say triumphantly.  Apparently we forgot to read the remainder of the verse.  You've heard that the Bible applies to every area of life?  This verse could sum it up.  Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever, exactly what this verse is reminding us.   "Whatsoever ye do" doesn't mean whatever we feel like doing or whatever we want to do - it is everything.  That means how we treat our siblings, honor our parents, the music we listen to, the movies we watch, the books we read, the words we say, our attitudes, our thoughts, even the simplest chores around the house.  We want to do something big, however.  Some of us may be willing to face the jungles of Africa or the communist hostility in China, but no one wants to wield a toilet scrubber and face a dirty bathroom.  Or, we may want to work in a big company for fame, recognition, money, or even just to make a difference, but who wants to help their father in his vision and business, especially if it is small and unnoticed?  We would gloriously die on the mission field, but we don't want to live contentedly at home. We take Paul's words in Philippians 1:21 a little too far.  Sure, to die is gain for Christ.

Daughters at home can get a little discouraged sometimes.  Okay, maybe very discouraged (more than sometimes).  This is dangerous- very dangerous - because the world begins to look inviting.  We must not fall into that trap!  Daily routine becomes monotonous. Because of our restlessness and discontentment, we are grumpy, moody, and liable to be snappish.  The truth of the matter is that we are not happy with our position, and we don't want to glorify God in everything.

I'm not one for making New Year's resolutions.  I never have been.  Anything I might have "promised" myself in the past always ended in disaster, such as waking up every morning with a smile on my lips and a song in my heart.  It's always the impossible with me.  I might want to be completely loving, always honoring my parents, never quarreling [much] with my siblings, always having the right attitude in every situation, being a servant, daily displaying the Fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22,23), and on and on and on the list goes.  Call me crazy, but I'm a perfectionist.

Mark 10:27 and Luke 1:37; 18: 27 say the same thing: with God nothing is impossible.  So we think that, while glorifying God in the home, everything should be practically unproblematic.  We want the easy life.  Yet, if everything was easy and breezy, where would satisfaction come in?  Our character would never be strengthened, our patience would never be tried, and we would never receive a "well done" from our Master.  Life wouldn't be life without difficulty.  There would be no triumph over trials and no ultimate glory in the end.  We would be lazy good-for-nothings.

Again we take a verse out of context (many times we do this to fit our preferences, ironically).  We as infallible human beings cannot be perfect!   Everything is impossible with us because we cannot do good. (Romans 3:10; 3:23; 7:15; Isaiah 64:6)   Therefore we shouldn't expect a miracle every morning (especially at 7:00 a.m.).  However, this also doesn't mean we have the right to be a snappy grump.  Titus 2:3-5 exhorts women of all ages to be holy, temperate, loving, discreet, good, and obedient - showing us a pattern of good works.   I know from experience how hard it is to be kind and patient.  But that doesn't give us the license to be mean, cross, and irritable.  To develop a good relationship with family and friends we have to be considerate, helpful, understanding, and attentive.  If not, bitterness and strife will cause pain because of rejection.   Again, speaking from experience, people will want to completely ignore you if you haven't the right attitude.  Everyone finds irksome people a chore to get along with.  True love will find a way, however, even amongst faults. (1 Corinthians 13)

With a whole new year ahead of us, just waiting for us to taste the delicious delights pending over the horizon, we shouldn't expect the impossible.  Instead, cultivate joy and contentment even in the smallest of things.  People will be happier, and the atmosphere so much more pleasant.  Because God in His mercy and grace has given us another chance, we ought to look forward with bright eyes and a rapidly beating heart.  Only God knows what lies ahead, but we can be sure it will be something grand as long as we walk in His footsteps.

Living the impossible...
For the Crown Rights of Jesus Christ
Soli Deo Gloria!
For Christ's Crown and Covenant

When you're grinding your teeth, stomping the floor, and pulling your hair.

Days like this are common for me.  Whether I am writing, playing my violin, getting impatient with my siblings, something always happens that makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs. (Ok, I know the title sounds more like a tantrum, but really, I don't mean that.)

I said this once before: I have always wanted to be a writer, even when I was little.

There is one problem.

I get too frustrated with myself.

Ugh. I throw down my pencil, my brain all jumbled.  What seemed like great ideas suddenly lost their grandeur.   I turn up my nose in disgust.  I'll never make a writer!  My story suddenly seems lame, poorly written, even ludicrous.  I read and reread the story and can't seem to be satisfied.  I do know I'm not being overly particular because my writing does seem...what's the word? Juvenile.  I haven't had much experience, well, hardly any at all, so I shouldn't expect to write an elegant-sounding novel right off the bat.   But, if you could just read my writing...

Tears would probably be running down your cheeks in rivulets and laughter choking your words.  Ha.Ha. Very funny.

I guess I shouldn't become so discouraged.  God made me according to every detail He had set down from the very beginning.  If I ever write a book or publish a story, that is totally up to Him.  He has given us all different gifts according to the grace He has granted us. (Romans 12:6-8)   Therefore, we are to use those gifts to the best of our ability "with cheerfulness."  

Remember, we are human and cannot do anything perfect.  What is impossible with us is completely possible with God. (Luke 1:37; 18:27)

Isn't is awesome that we have such an almighty and majestic God who is in control of all things?

Whether I ever publish a book or not, all the glory and praise belongs to God alone.  On  my own I could do nothing.  It is only by His Holy Spirit working in me that I "can do all things." (Philippians 4:13)

I give everything that I am, and everything I have ever done or will do, to Christ alone.

Haven't I said before that writing helps me work out my own problems?  After I put down my thoughts down, things don't seem to be so bleak.

Now, where did that pencil go...