Sacrificing Your Darlin's

I have a book.  Of course, I have a book.  This ones name is "A Change Of Heart".  That is far better than its original working title: "Sister Mountain".  The story really wasn't about the sister mountain at all; the mountain was just something that the travelers went over.  The sister mountain was about my family; the female side, at any rate.  I liked that part.  It was fun.  It was poetic and beautiful.

But I realized it didn't have to be there.  So I chopped it.  I wouldn't even have considered chopping it if it hadn't been for something my mother said.  She told me that sometimes you have to sacrifice your darlin's.

It's not easy.  In fact, it's downright hard.  You get attached to these parts.  They become so much a part of your story, that to think about your story without them is difficult.  Or maybe they are just little lines that are so witty, yet so unnecessary.  Those parts that you just love to pieces, just as themselves, those are your darlin's.

Not all darlin's have to be sacrificed.  I have heard a definition of sacrifice that I find rather accurate.  To sacrifice is to give up something good for something better.  If disposing of a darlin will make the book better, you know what to do.  If it aids the book, by all means: keep it in.

Looking Through Another's Eyes

It has been proven that when you see something, you feel like you're doing it.  When you're rooting for a guy that has just made a touch-down, you just made that touch-down.  When Cinderella marries the prince, you just married that prince.  That's why I can get drunk from too many or too much emotion or tension scenes.

  

That can be great at times.  But, like anything but serving God, you can get too much of it.  God recently opened my eyes to the fact that I sometimes like to live through someone else; usually a character either of mine or of someone elses.  I feel alive through them, and when I feel I need to be thinking about God, I'll even serve God through them!  After all, surely there can be nothing wrong with thinking about a "God Story".  Actually there can be.  Love God and do what you want.  Love God first; then do what you want.

God has made us to live a wonderful life, full of ups and downs and brimming with love.  God has not made us to simply feel another's experience, He's made us to have our own.  Now, you're going to feel other peoples feats when you watch and when you read; I don't see how you can change that, nor do I see why you would want too.  But don't let it stop there.  Live your own life, love your own friends, and accomplish your own feats.  Be inspired; don't be satisfied.

The Living Water

I haven't read my Bible for nearly a week.  I have done supplement Bible studies, but not Bible.  Yesterday was Sunday, and I missed both the sermon and the Sunday School.  I was starving this morning.  I set my alarm clock to 5:30 and then read the Bible 'till 6:30, usually.  I haven't gotten up the past week.  This morning, I slept through an hour and a half of raucous harpy shrieks (I hate that alarm clock) and woke up at 7:02.  If I had followed the pattern I had been following, I wouldn't have done my Bible studies.  But I was starving, and I was desperate.

  Mom gave me the analogy of water.  When you drink water, you crave more water; when you don't drink water, you don't feel like you want it.  But then come the repercussions: your fingers become raisins and your lips become cracked.  If you go without it long enough, your lips will split and you will be in pain.  It is then that the flavorless water becomes sweet, cool, flowing, delicious.  And maybe you have to choke down the first glass, as your throat rebels.  But it is wonderful.

  I started reading John today; John 13, where Jesus washes the disciples feet.  I love John, especially the end of it.  But once when I was starving, I landed on Jeremiah and it was comforting.  Jeremiah!  Jeremiah: the weeping prophet.  Really, when you're starving, anyplace in the Bible will do, and it's then that you remember what you loved it about it and what you were missing.  It's beautiful; but it's a rhythm that I can't say that I love, just yet.  One day I'd like to like it, but I hate the emptiness I feel of starving.  It is Gods gift to me, though, and I thank Him for it.

Sacrificing Your Isaac

Books are wonderful.  I love them; I find delight in them; they give me joy.  I love pretending to be another person; to live a different life and see things a different way.  I love to see the rhythm of words.  The poetry, the creation, the power of a skillfully arranged set of words.  Such power words hold.

But words belong to you; you can't belong to them.  It's not how it was designed to be.  At any and every point in the process, are you willing to say to God, "If You ask it of me, I will give up my books"?  Be cautioned: He might say, "I ask it of you; lay them at my feet, and let them be."  Are you willing to sacrifice your Isaac?

Last night, I told Him that: "If you ask it of me, I will give up my books."  He replied, "No.  I have given you words, you must use them."

And God has given me words.  There are consumers and creators, and I am both.  He has given me a way with words, to craft them and mold them.  Now, I'm hardly Charles Dickens, but I will not hide my gift because it is not as grand as anothers.  God has shown me how to use words as great encouragement, and that is one of my favorite things to do.  I have not always used His words as I ought, but I strive to.

Ask yourself this: has God given you words?  There is no pride there, for pride lurks in your strength; hiding your gift is denying God his credit.  It's hiding your talent in the ground

If the answer to the question above was 'yes', ask of yourself another question: how can I use this to the fullness that God may receive twofold or fivefold or tenfold His investment?

Your gift of words may be with your mouth; that you know exactly what to say and when to say it.  If so, encourage others to be more like Him.

You might fear to speak, but you love to encourage.  I write anonymous letters of encouragement to people, five or six lines long, and I illustrate the borders.  That is one of my favorite things to do; and I will never receive any thanks, but that is part of the point.

Perhaps you don't know how to encourage people you know, but you can craft a beautiful picture that is not real.  Perhaps you can encourage someone you have never met by a book that was simply glorifying to God, whether it held His name or not.

Maybe your gift is not with words.  The Word promises you have one; and it will be your adventure to find what it is.

If I have blessed you with this post or any other, please tell me, for I love to be encouraged.

If I have distressed you with this post or any other, please tell me, for I love to learn.

If I have troubled you with this post or any other, please tell me, for I love to sort things out.

You can comment or Email me at Sarah@BadgerEMail.NET

Ships and Shores; Chapter Two

I know it took a while, but here it is.

Chapter Two

Daryn swung in his hammock, lazily. He was done with his chores for the morning. He took out his pendant that his mother had given him. He swung it before his eyes, staring steadfastly, and remembering her. Joel opened the door suddenly, and it startled Daryn. He dropped the chain, quickly grabbing it, but catching only one end of it. The pendant rolled away on the floor.

“Have you seen Hosea,” Joel asked.

“I think he's on the second deck.”

“'Kay. Thanks.”

Daryn sighed and dropped to the floor to look for it. He saw it a ways away, still rolling. He scrambled for it, all the faster when he saw it go through a hole in the floor. He got to the hole and saw with regret that it was too dark to see the charm. He stretched two of his fingers through the hole, for that was all that would fit, but alas! it did not reach. He withdrew his fingers, or tried to. But they were stuck.

He pulled and pulled but they would not budge. He sighed and backed up as far as he could for extra strength. He braced himself and pulled with all his might. It gave no resistance whatsoever this time and he found himself set painfully on his backside, a part of the floor still attached to his fingers.

“Good heavens,” he cried. “I've broken it!”

He looked in the hole again, a nice square hole, and looked for his pendant. And he saw it; it laid upon a pile of crates, which were of two sizes: tall and wide, and short and wide. There was a whole hold in the hole. He reached for his lost article, but it was too far down.

“Oh great,” he said as he clambered down into the little room. It turned out to be a big room, spanning the length and depth of the boat. There were no crates directly underneath him and he hung from his fingers as he accidentally fitted the hatch back in its place.

“Ahhh,” he cried as his fingers finally gave way and he fell to the ground. He heard foot steps above him and he hid behind a stack of the tall and wide crates. He felt anger at himself for being frightened, as if he had done something wrong. He was at the point of coming out when a great shaft of light came as the door opened and he felt a fear that drowned out all the reasonable thoughts.

“Come on, Corey; we ain't got all day,” Daryn heard.

“Ya quiet yerself. Some un'll 'ear you.” There were quiet footsteps to the shorter crates.

The door closed and the light disappeared. A moment later, a different light filled it's place; someone had lit a lamp.

“An' that 'some un' wouldn' 'appen to be Douglas, would 'e?” Douglas? The first mate? What was going on? Daryn heard wood sliding against wood. It sounded like a crate was being opened that had been un-nailed earlier.

“It's bad enough we 'ave to work fer 'im, but stealing from 'im quite another thing.” Glass rattled against itself.

“'E'd sure tan our 'ides if 'e knew.” A cork was popped from a bottle.

“'Tan our 'ides'! We'd be lucky if 'e didn't split our skulls! 'E'd most likely pin this 'ole lot on us en take off wi' it when they isn't lookin'!” Douglas?! He worked men hard but that seemed a little excessive.

There were great sloshings of liquid.

Daryn felt angry. These men had no right to steal and talk about a man in authority like that. He moved to the side to be able to stand up and confront them. But he happened to look to the side and into one of the crates. He found himself looking straight into the barrel of a gun. He gasped; guns were illegal in this region.

“'Old on a minute,” one of the men said. Daryn held his breath. Had they heard him? “What's this?”

“Give it me. . . It looks like a medallion.” His pendant! “'Arry must'a left it. 'E always has knicks about 'is knacks about 'im.”

“I'll have to 'emember to give it to 'im” Daryn looked through the slats in the crate and saw one of the men put it in the breast pocket of his jacket. The other man laughed and there was more sloshing sounds.

“You're likely as not to ferget you even put it in your pocket.”

There were footsteps on the ceiling above them. The men fell silent. “Mark? Corey? Dan? Any yous here?” There was silence for a moment before the footsteps went up the stairs again. The men corked the bottle and hastily put it away. They were silent as they extinguished the light and left. When their footsteps could no longer be heard, Daryn came out of hiding.

Smugglers? In this ship? The first mate involved? What was going on? Daryn grimaced. He was not going to like what he had to do.

A Time For All Things

When you start writing a book, you are enthused by all the wonderful aspects of it that you have brimming in your mind.  When you start reading a book, you have a cautious delight or a whole-hearted expectation of joy.  God loves to see you happy; to see you enjoy a beautiful pleasure.
But sometimes, thoughts go stale.  It doesn't happen as easily with reading, but just it's as possible.  I hate stale thoughts.  I hate them as much as I hate bad thoughts, even though I shouldn't, and need to work on that.  But stale thoughts are from the Lord.
When you've tasted the ever-steady, yet ever-new wonders of the Lord, no stagnant thought will do.  Only His goodness will suffice; and beyond sufficing, it fills, overflows, increases.  Stagnant thoughts will tell you where your focus is.  If you're growing weary of your boring thoughts, turn to God and let Him fill you with new delight.
A great part of writing and reading, is knowing when to back away and take an objective look at it.
If you're not satisfied with old thoughts, that's because God created you to be delighted with new and beautiful things, yet still love the steady things.  Look around!  God created something really special in you.  He loves you.  Look to Him.

Sorry if the post wasn't very focused.  Hope you get something out it.

Good to Great in God's Eyes

Today is Sunday and I heard an incredible sermon and I want to share the highlights of it.  It was entitled Good to Great in God's Eyes and it had two headings besides the introduction and the conclusion.  The two headings were as follows:
THINK GREAT THOUGHTS
READ GREAT BOOKS
The first thing you need to do is to define your definition of great.  The preacher put it this way: When you're seventy years old and you think "I have lived a successful life" what would you have done to get to that point?
The next thing you need to do is find out why you want to be great.
There are three kinds of Christians:
Nominal
-I say I'm a Christian
Good
-Others can tell I'm a Christian
Great
-They go beyond themselves
That was the introduction.  After that was the great thoughts, and that is by no means a light matter.  You can train yourself to think positively, and you need to.  The media is constantly bombarding you with negative, and your books do that too, if especially if you are not aware.
The last was reading great books.  Those who read the truth are likely to live it out.  Great Christians read great books, historically.  Great books impact your life, sharpen you mind, inflame your heart, and develop your skills.
The conclusion is this: Those who dream of the internal impact in the Kingdom of God, who envision crossing the finish line as one of God's great saints, are motivated to do whatever it takes to be used powerfully by God.
In the end, the very end, don't you want to be one to whom God says, "Well done, good and faithful servant."?  Wouldn't it be awful to hear Him ask, "Why didn't you do what I asked?"
This mostly came from the notes of the sermon today; it's not my own, and it's a little stilted.  But I enjoyed it and I hope you learned something.
God Be With Thee 'Till We Meet Again