Sunday Devotion-What God Wants

Janet Rubin

He drew his arm back. Rage tore through his muscles, propelling his fist forward with violent force. A frustrated growl erupted from his mouth as he released the piece of fruit clutched in his hand. He hurled it, sending it arcing over the earth until it descended, exploding on impact. The red skin of the fruit burst, bloody-looking pulp sprayed through the air.

He grabbed another from the basket and sent it flying to the same fate. Then another, and another. Screams of fury accompanied his throws. Nearly blinded by his angry tears, he continued until every piece of fruit in the basket lay in a useless, broken mess against the rocks. His very best—wasted. With a final burst of anger he kicked the empty basket, sending it bouncing down the stony hill, then stood, chest heaving, hands shaking.

In the distance sheep bleated. His hands clenched into fists as he scanned the wooly valley below, finding the figure of the one he so despised. His brother’s silhouette shone dark against the setting sun. The favored one. Accepted by God. Bitterness swelled and tightened his throat. It wasn’t fair. Why were Abel’s dead animals better than Cain’s first fruits? He’d tilled the landed, planted, watered, weeded…

"You didn’t bring what I asked, Cain," a gentle voice whispered.

He’d brought his best, but it wasn’t good enough. Through narrowed eyes he watched Abel moving through the flock, bending now and then to touch the heads of the animals, probably feeling superior…laughing at him. All at once, Cain knew what he would do. Abel would pay…

Last night in bible study, we read the account of Cain and Abel. Both brothers brought sacrifices. Abel’s was acceptable to God. Cain’s was not. Cain became angry, his face downcast, and despite God’s warnings that sin crouched at his door, he went on to murder his brother.

Why was Cain so angry? And why didn’t God accept his offering? Obviously, in Cain’s eyes, his offering was good, and he thought God should have been thankful. But, either because he was not obedient in making the offering God required, or because his heart’s motivation was not right, God did not accept the offering.

I wonder how often my offerings are more like Cain’s than Abel’s. So often we give God what we want to give Him, as opposed to giving what He asks, and in our arrogance we think He ought to be happy that we gave Him anything at all. Of course—and thank God—we are living in New Testament times; Jesus has made the ultimate sacrifice. We don’t need to offer blood sacrifice to atone for our sins. So what does God ask of us now?

Romans 12:1 says, “Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship.”

According to this verse, we are the sacrifice. We are. How easy it is to get consumed with our writing, telling those around we are writing for God. We say we are telling stories for His glory. Using our gift and doing our best for Him. It sounds good. And the writing might be excellent, even award-winning. Yet God cares more about the giver than the gift. If you become a New York Times best-selling author, the entire world may want your stories… but God will still want you. He doesn’t love you because you can tell a story. He loves you because you are his child. He wants time with you, a relationship. He wants to be involved in your writing, to be your inspiration, your encourager, your guide. Offer yourself up to Him today?

Lord, if we could just give you whatever we felt like giving, then it wouldn’t be a sacrifice. Help us to give you our bodies, our hearts, our minds, our hopes, plans, and dreams. We want to be pleasing and acceptable to you. Amen.

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Sunday Devotion- The Ten Commandments for Writers, #3

Janet Rubin

Deut. 5:11 "You shall not misuse the name of the LORD your God, for the LORD will not hold anyone guiltless who misuses his name."

I'll admit it. I've been worried about writing on this one and how it relates to writing. Mostly because I'm not sure I have the answer. But I'll give it a whirl and you can meditate on it for yourself.

The first thing that comes to mind is using the Lord's name in a bad way, like a curse or a meaningless expression. Certainly, we should not do this. Not when rejections come in the mail, not when we get a harsh critique, not even if our computers crash. As writers, what we need to contemplate is, should our characters do it? What if we're writing about a character who would take the Lord's name in vain? Does our "art" give us license? (I'm not answering that one- just throwing it out there.)

Another way I've heard this command explained, is that we ought not to flippantly attach God's name to things. Christians do a lot of, "God told me such and such," "God called me to do such and such," "God wants this or that..." Considering this third commandment, I think it is very important for us to be sure God is saying or doing or calling before we attribute things to Him. Be careful about saying, "God called me to write this book," or even, "God is the one who wrote this book," or, "God told me to go to the conference in Dallas," or, "God wants my book published." It's easy for us sheep-minded people to get our desires and plans mixed up with what we think God wants.

I'm not implying that God doesn't speak to us or lead us to do things. If we walk closely to Him and listen, He'll do just that. We just need to remember that His name is holy and not to be used lightly, and never for the purposes of making us look better or making our work seem more valid. If God has called us to write something and we do, people will be blessed. If He wants something published it will be. His ways are above our ways and His thoughts above our thoughts. Blessed be His name.

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Sunday Devotion- The Ten Commandments for Writers, #1

Janet Rubin

I've been thinking for some time about going through the ten commandments and seeing how each one relates to the writing life. So over the next few weeks, I'll be doing that here on Novel Journey. You're most likely familiar with the first commandment God scribbled on Moses's stone tablet:

Duet. 5:7 I am the Lord your God. You shall have no other gods before me.

On my initial self-examination I seemed innocent regarding this one. No golden cows in my house. I've never prayed to Baal or built an altar to Molech. But what is a god? God says, "I am the Lord your God." Lord means master. Your master is someone you listen to and obey. Of course, one's god is who one worships as well. So if I am obeying this command, I am listening to, obeying and worshipping God rather than anyone or anything else. Is this always the case where my writing is concerned?

It's easy to want to compartmentalize God, to try and stick Him into the places we think He belongs- like the church sanctuary or our ten minute morning devotional time- and to keep him out of the places we think have nothing to do with Him. To be honest, I don't consult God very often about what I should write, where I should send my manuscripts, what my writing goals should be, etc. But I should. If God is really my Lord, my Master, then I should be continually looking to Him and asking, "what should I do next?" I should be seeking His will, asking for wisdom and direction.

If I am not listening to God, who am I listening to? I might be following the advice of other writers, reading how-to books, writing for the market, or looking after my own interests. While all of these things can be beneficial, they must not be put before God. Perhaps God has a story for me to tell that isn't the "what's hot now" genre. Maybe He wants to help me weed through the endless helpful hints I get and find just the right ones to focus on. And maybe the story I'm wanting to write is born out of wrong motives and He wants to work on my heart.

After writing this devotion, I'm hoping to make it my habit to intentionally remember that God is right with me in my computer chair. I want to run every idea by him. What do you think of this plot line, Lord? That was an interesting article, Jesus. Was there something in there I ought to implement? Father, is there anything You want to show me? It occurred to me that if I only listen to men on the topic of writing, it seems to indicate that I think men know more about the subject than God does. But who better to consult on matters of writing than the One who made words and language, the One who made men and put a desire to write in their hearts, the One who wrote the greatest story every told and is the very Author of life and salvation? In shame, I admit that I've held the opinion of best-selling authors, agents, and publishers in higher esteem than I have God's.

Lord,

I don't want to have any gods before You. You are my Lord and my God. Forgive me for underestimating the value of Your direction and insight where my writing is concerned. I know that You will use men to teach me and guide me, that you will help me to learn from the experience and criticism of others, and I thank You for that. But let me now and always look to You first and formost to be my Master; I want to write for You.

Amen

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Sunday Devotion- MInd Control

Janet Rubin

We've got an infestation at my house. Mainly in my daughters' bedrooms. Hundreds of little critters that seem to just keep multiplying. You can't cross the room without stepping on a few...

Okay, don't email me the web site for a good exterminator. I'm talking about stuffed animals. My girls love their furry little friends and take great pleasure in accumulating more. They count their animals like Scrooge counted his money. Last I knew, they were reporting a collective total of 200. Wow. I'd object, but the girls save up for most of these and buy them themselves. And the animals don't sit around gathering dust. They all have names, little animal families, and endless adventures.

The other day, Cassidy interrupted my writing to share the interesting fact that all of her animals have the same favorite color she does-- blue.

"That's amazing," I said. "What a coincidence that they would all have the same favorite color as you do!"

Cassidy replied with a duh tone of voice, "Well, they all have my mind."

Of course.

Well naturally that got your Sunday devotion writer thinking. The animals do all have Cassidy's mind. Until she adopted them, they were nothing but fluff-filled toys on store shelves. But adopt them she did, and with her love and imagination, breathed life into them, giving them names, personalities, and things to do. And, I assure you, none of those animals does a thing without her direction.

The whole thing is an imperfect metaphor for God, the creator, and us, his children. Imperfect for a couple of reasons: For one thing, Cassidy didn't create the animals. For another, the animals have no free will. They must do what Cassidy wants them to do. Like little robots, they must have a parade if told to have a parade, or go to sleep if instructed to go to sleep...or marry whatever other furry animal Cassidy considers a suitable match.

In these ways, we are different. God did make us:

Genesis 2:7And the LORD God formed man of the dust of the ground, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being.

God created us in His image. That phrase- "in His image"- intrigues me. I often think that this is why we are creative; because we are god-like. This is why we are relational, why we value beauty. But He meant for us to also have His mind. Which I think means having his attitude. Or liking what the One who bought us ("You are not your own; you were bought at a price." 1 Cor6:19) likes. For Cassidy's elephants, bears, and unicorns, that means liking the color blue. For us it means things far more significant. God even sent Jesus to show us what that looks like:

Philippians 2:5-8 Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus, who, being in the form of God, did not consider it robbery to be equal with God, but made Himself of no reputation, taking the form of a bondservant, and coming in the likeness of men. And being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross.

Yet, He doesn't force us to have His mind. Based on the verses above, I'd say having Christ's mind has a lot to do with being focused on humility and obedience, not being caught up in our own image, and not being superior to anyone, but serving, and taking up a cross. As for liking what God likes? Here's a good list of stuff He digs:

Philippians 4:8 Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.

Lord, thank You for breathing life into me and for giving me a choice. I chose to be a part of your family, accepting the gift of soul-cleaning, life-giving blood of your Son. Now, I want to choose to have Your mind, and that part is proving more difficult. Please help me Lord. Put Your mind in me. Strip away my pride. Help me to think of others before thinking of myself. Give me the courage to be obedient and to carry whatever cross You have for me. Fill my mind with good and lovely things. Renew my mind. Amen.

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Just Say Thank You
Janet Rubin

Sitting in my usual pew—right-hand side of the sanctuary, two rows back—I watched with interest as Christine climbed the steps of the stage. According to the bulletin, she would sing a solo. I’d never known she could sing.

Christine’s hand trembled as she reached for the microphone. She closed her eyes for a moment, then swallowed and licked her lips before raising her eyes to the sound booth and giving a nod. After a pause, the accompanying music swelled from the speakers mounted on the sanctuary’s old columns and she began to sing.

Soft and shaky the first few measures, but as she closed her eyes and lifted a hand towards the ceiling, Christine’s voice increased in volume and rang out in a lovely, smooth alto.

I closed my eyes and let the song wash over me. Chill bumps prickled up and down my arms as I listened to the lyrics. I’d been troubled and praying about a particular issue and the words of Christine’s song were exactly what I needed to hear. God was doing what He so often does—ministering to me through the gifts of another believer. Tears streamed down my face as I breathed a prayer of thanks and a pew-neighbor passed me a tissue.

After the service, I swam against the tide of exiting church-goers to get to the front of the sanctuary and tell Christine how much I appreciated her solo.

Still sitting in her pew, Christine zipped up her Bible cover and I sat next to her. “I wanted to tell you how much your song blessed me. It was lovely.”

Christine shook her head. “Oh, I did terrible. I was so nervous.”

“No, Christine, you did a really good job and God ministered to me through the song. He really did.”

Christine’s cheeks reddened. “Well thanks,” she said in a voice that indicated she didn’t believe me at all.

I could relate. How often had someone complimented my writing and rather than accepting his or her sincere praise graciously, I had rejected it as flattery?

Why is it so hard for us to take compliments? Why do we find it so hard to believe that God can work through us, using the gifts He gave us to bless others?

As a writer, I have had a very hard time taking compliments—partly because I don’t feel worthy and partly because accepting praise seems sinful. Much of the time I simply don’t believe that the compliment is sincere. I’ll think, “He (or she) is just being nice.” Other times, I think the compliment is sincere, but the moment I think, “Yeah that story was pretty good,” I feel guilty of pride.

Can we accept compliments without being proud? Remembering three things will help us accept compliments in a way that honors God.

First, admitting that you have a gift is okay. God gives people gifts. Romans 12:6 says, “We have different gifts, according to the grace given us.

Second, the Bible says we should be humble, but that doesn’t mean thinking badly of ourselves. God wants us to be honest about who we are. Interestingly, He also addresses this issue in Romans 12, knowing we’d struggle with having gifts and having a proper opinion of ourselves .

Verse three Says, “Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.” Paul says, “By the grace of God I am what I am.” (1 Corinthians 15:10)

By the grace of God, I’m a writer. Maybe even a pretty good writer, learning and growing every day.

Third, regardless of your level of talent, God can use your work. Do you really think God needs you to attain writing perfection before He can use your writing to touch people’s lives? He is God! He used a stuttering Moses to lead the Israelites and a little shepherd boy to bring down Goliath. If someone says, “Your story really blessed me,” rather than being skeptical, praise God!

The next time someone compliments your work,

take a deep breath and say, “Thank you.”

God, Thank you for giving me the gift of writing. You are my source of inspiration, ideas and talent. Please help me to have a proper estimation of myself and keep me from pride. I acknowledge that You have the power to use my work to bless those who read it and I pray that You would do so.
Amen

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Sunday Devotion: When You're a Blessing, Beware!

Janet Rubin



God gave you a gift. He wants to use it to bring you fulfillment and joy, and to bless others. If you’ve found your way to Novel Journey, you are probably using that writing gift. Perhaps you are a novelist or someone pursuing that dream. Maybe you write articles or devotionals, in magazines or online. I’m doing some of that.

One of the coolest things we can experience is the joy of hearing from a reader who says, “Wow, what you wrote really blessed me. God used it to encourage/convict/teach me…” How humbling. It is at those moments that we begin to remember that it isn’t about us, or getting shelf space at Borders. It isn’t about getting awards or doing book signings. And it certainly isn’t about the money. We are a part of something bigger. Kingdom business.

But watch out! Just as you begin to savor that feeling—that exciting idea that God is using our writing in a big way—the attacks begin. Satan might not bother a closet writer too much, someone who is too insecure to show their writing to anyone. But someone who is prayerfully writing and putting their stuff out there? Someone whose work is making a difference to someone else (even just a few people)? He wants to take those people out.

How he goes about it varies. He may whack you with fear or temptation or sickness or depression. He may try to suck you into feeling prideful, taking all the credit instead of giving glory to the One who gave the gift. He may try to convince you that your writing isn’t going anywhere, and that you ought to quit and take up fly-fishing or origami instead.

One of the reasons the enemy is often able to trip us up is that, in general, us writers are an insecure lot. We have a hard time believing that anything we are doing is important enough to warrant an attack. Despite our active imaginations, we have difficulty believing a real battle is going on around us, and that our writing matters so much. As long as Satan can keep us thinking that there isn’t a threat, he has the upper hand. But we need to find the truth in Scripture:

Ephesians 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

The threat is real. Fortunately, we are not powerless against the attacks, and we are not alone:

1 John 4:4 You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world.

And God has given us resources, like armor. Ephesians 6:14 “Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand”.

He sends angels to fight on our behalf. Psalm 91:11 “For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways”

God himself protects us. Psalm 5:11 “But let all who take refuge in you be glad; let them ever sing for joy. Spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may rejoice in you.”

We also have intercessors, Jesus and the Holy Spirit, rooting for us. Romans 8:26 “the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” How cool is that?

So be aware. God wants to use you, and Satan wants to eliminate you. Your work does matter. So put on your armor, stick close to the Shepherd, and be strong in the Lord.

Father,
Thank you for making us writers and giving us the honor of being involved in Your kingdom work. Please keep us safe from the enemy’s attacks and help us to seek You continually. Amen

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Sunday Devotion- Mo and Bro

Janet Rubin

By now, you novel journeymen and women know a great deal about me. I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet that besides being a writer, home school mom, college student and general nutcase, I am also a leader in our church’s youth group. This is a new adventure for me this year, but something I’ve felt called to for some time. My main function at youth group has been “snack lady.” A pretty good gig really. I mean the kids might get annoyed with the youth pastor when he tells them to “Quiet down!”, or roll their eyes at the other "uncool" parent/leaders when they try to talk to them… but what teenager doesn’t like the lady who hands them a cupcake and a cup of iced tea? Snacks? No problem. I'm your woman!

There is another part of youth group. After the worship, announcements, Bible lesson, and such, comes “small group time,” a time for discussion questions and prayer. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I was just assisting another woman leader who lead our small group of junior high girls, but for some reason, things got switched around and I found myself ALONE with a group of junior high girls. How can I describe this horrible experience? I felt like George Bush leading a meeting full of Hillary Clinton supporters. Well, sort of. The girls weren’t hostile or anything. There were more like comatose. I kept reading my lame discussion questions, and they kept silently gawking at me, like an audience of Vulcans watching a comedian. I rambled. I tried to be funny. I tried to be deep. The looks on their faces said it all. I could hear Sean’s group nearby, laughing as they all animatedly traded stories. I could see Karla’s group bent over their Bibles, searching for the answer to some question. And Tony’s group, huddled in prayer. With 15 minutes to go and no hope of recovery, I skipped prayer and said, “Soooo, who wants to help me set up the snacks?”

Once the kids left I approached Rachel, the youth pastor’s wife, and confessed to her what a dismal failure I was as a small group leader. I assured her that I wasn’t dropping out of youth group and would continue being the lemonade-mixer, and keeper of the chips and salsa, and helping in any other way. But that I couldn’t- simply couldn’t- lead a small group. She assured me that was totally fine, and I appreciated her gracious understanding, but went home feeling useless. I felt inferior to Tony, Sean, and Karla. What they were doing was the stuff that mattered- connecting with the kids, teaching them, praying with them.

At home, I retreated to my comfort zone, snuggled on the couch with my laptop. Before I left church, Rachel had reminded me of my idea about having the kids do skits. I though about what we’d read during bible time that night from Exodus and started typing. By the next morning, I had two weeks worth of skits about "Mo and Bro." I had a ridiculous amount of fun writing them and was delighted with the end result. Here’s an excerpt:

Aaron: I can’t believe you got me involved. This was supposed to be your gig. Couldn’t you just do what God said and leave me out of it, Mo?

Mo: Dude, you know I can’t do public speaking. Remember that play in high school?

Aaron: (laughing) Oh yeah, your big role in Pirates of the Nile?

Mo: Remember how I was always fine in practice, but then on opening night I couldn’t say my lines? I was shaking, sweating. I felt like I was going to hurl, and I couldn’t say anything!

Aaron: Yeah, you looked like an idiot.

Mo: Oh, thanks a lot bro.

Aaron: Well, you did.

Mo: I know it, okay?! That’s why I need you to talk to Pharaoh. Getting a king to set a million slaves free is just a tad bit scarier than playing Captain Jack in a play…

Aaron: you really did look like an idiot.

Mo: All right, already. At least I wasn’t the one who had to be the water boy for the Cairo Camels football team.

Aaron: (sheepishly mumbling) I could have played if I wanted; I liked getting the water.

Mo: Whatever. (lowering voice) Okay, we’re here. You’re doing the talking, so you go first. (Aaron rolls eyes.) We’ll do it just like God said. We’ll go in there, and you tell Pharaoh to let our people go. God said he won’t listen to us, and that he’ll ask for a miracle…and then I’ll do that thing God said to do with the staff.

Aaron: Okay, let’s do it. (Mo and Bro do cool brother handshake and enter throneroom...)


So, throughout the week, I emailed teens and leaders, and was pleasantly surprised to find all enthusiastic about performing. Last night was our premiere performance. The actors were marvelous, the kids laughed in all the right spots, and more of them expressed an interest in drama. I went home feeling much better than I had the week before, having been reminded again that God made us all different, each with different gifts and functions. There is a place for me and a place for all.

Today I stopped by church for something and saw our groundskeeper, Jerry, in our huge gravel parking lot. He was quietly serving as he always does, carrying heavy shovelfuls of dirt and rocks and filling in the gouges and potholes left by the last snow-plowing. He smiled broadly and waved at me, then went back to work, looking contented. I thought how grateful I am for Jerry, and how unhappy I’d be doing his job, and how smart God was to design His church in such a way that there are people to do everything that needs to be done.

Are you feeling badly about some gift you don’t have? Feeling envious of others who do have those gifts? God has a purpose for you. Ask Him what it is. When you serve using the gifts He gave you, it will fill you with pleasure and bless others.

1 Corinthians 12:18-20 But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be. If they were all one part, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, but one body.

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Sailing into the Great Unknown

By Janet Rubin

Spending his life weaving in a stuffy little shop like his dad wasn’t Christopher Columbus’ idea of fun. No, his life, his love, and his lady was the sea. Little Chris hung out at the docks, learning all he could from the sea men, and dreaming of the day he’d go on his own voyage.

My daughters and I have been learning about Christopher Columbus in our home school. We are reading several books on his life simultaneously. It’s interesting that different authors put different slants on his motives. Some paint him as a greedy man who mainly headed west to gain fame and fortune. Others insist his journey was more of a missionary trip, his main aim being to spread the gospel. Still others maintain that Chris was a strong Christian with a sincere desire to spread the gospel, but struggled with greed along the way. But all agree on the fact that he was a young man who longed to sail.

One of my favorite accounts is given by Peter Marshall in his book, The Light and the Glory, a book that emphasizes the hand of God in history. Marshall ’s first point is that Columbus had a God-given love of the sea. How simple! Of course, if God wanted Columbus to discover the New World , that He would give Columbus a love of the sea and an adventurous spirit! While the other men sailing with Columbus grew fearful and begged him to turn back, he determined to move forward, on into what Europeans called “The Sea of Darkness.”

God designed each of us with particular desires and interests. Some grow up with a love of people or animals or music or acting or tinkering with machines or cooking. Me, I grew up loving books and wanting to write my own. If you traveled to Connecticut and dug around in my mom’s basement, you’d find little construction paper books held together with staples, telling all kinds of tales. When I made those, I wrote about a girl named Jessie who flew off to New York to be a dancer. Twenty years later I’m writing suspense.

It’s easy while plodding along the road to publication, to experience all kinds of doubts and fears. What am I doing? Am I supposed to write? Will I ever be good enough? It is good to be reminded that God is the One who put that insatiable desire to write in us in the first place. The desire wasn’t a mistake—some evolutionary quirk—but a God-given love for words and story-telling.

What He wants us to do with that desire is a different matter—one we need to discuss with Him. Columbus didn’t know that the plan for him was discovering America . In fact, he went to his grave thinking he’d landed in India ! Yet, his discovery led to a whole New World . Where is your journey taking you? Only God knows. But he put a longing to write in your heart, so write. You may not land where you expected to, but you won’t fall off the end of the earth.

Ephesians 2:10 For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

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Sunday Devotion- Special Delivery

Janet Rubin


Sometimes I’m doing dishes when I hear it. Other times I’m reading or sweeping the floor. I'm talking about the distinct hum the mail truck makes as it moves from the next door neighbor’s mailbox to ours. During most of the year, the sound doesn’t elicit much excitement. I’ll peel off my dish gloves, slip on some shoes and amble down to the box, knowing that most of what I retrieve there—credit card offers and such—I’ll simply transfer from the mailbox to the blue trash can on the opposite side of the driveway, and that the mail I keep will be bothersome stuff like bills.

But in December, postal deliveries excite me. This is the season for Christmas cards and letters from friends not heard from lately, or even better…packages! Today, when I grabbed my pile of mail from the box, I found a square package about double the size of a CD, sent by someone in Ohio. I couldn’t for the life of me guess who the package was from or what it contained, and I practically skipped back to the front door as I relished the mystery. The lyrics, “brown paper packages tied up with string, these are a few of my favorite things,” came to mind, and I hummed the tune, not with Julie Andrews' vocal talent, but with just as much enthusiasm.

Inside, I tore into my package the way my teenager does a bag of Doritos. And found… two slices of fruit cake. Yes, fruit cake! From my friend and on-line critique partner Yvonne who lives in Ohio. I couldn’t have been more delighted. Several days ago, our group members took a brief respite from their grueling writing schedules (ha ha) to chat about what they were up to in their “normal” lives. Yvonne had been busy making her “famous” fruitcake. I mentioned that I had never actually tried fruit cake. So my dear friend sent me some. Two fruity slabs of friendship.

And again I marveled at how God uses so many things—even the internet—to bless us. Satan uses the internet for so much that is evil and vile. Pornography, filth, and all variety of sin. There are forums where people discuss their hatred of Christians or gay people or just about any kind of people. Chat rooms where people work themselves into such a frenzy that their bitterness morphs into malice that isn’t content to simply “chat,” but insists on acting out in violence against someone. I could go on and on with examples of the way the enemy uses this marvel of technology called the Internet.

But I’d rather point out how God is here too, helping the members of the body of Christ connect around the world. Helping writers—those who mirror the creative image of God—get together and encourage one another, pray together, help one another become better writers, have blogs and sites that are also ministries… or make a friend with someone hundreds of miles away who will care enough to share fruitcake at Christmas.

Yvonne is just one of the many special sisters I’ve met on-line. How comforting to know that God is omni-present—in Heaven, on earth, and yes, in cyber-space too. He’s got the whole world, Internet included, in His hands. It’s been a tough year for my crit group. Two dear sisters lost husbands to cancer, one is facing surgery, one struggled with depression (okay, that was me), one worries over her child’s worsening disability, and there’s been more too. But how lovely it has been to lift one another up in prayer, to offer cyber-hugs and continue on with our writing, which is sometimes a healing activity. How good of God to bring us together for just that purpose!

Some imagine God up in Heaven frowning down at us from far off, or hanging around in church buildings just waiting for company to show up. But He is everywhere. The Psalmist says, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” (Psalm 139) He is everywhere. And I’m so glad that I can know His hand will guide me even here in cyber-space--making divine appointments with people He wants me to meet, leading me to write things someone out there somewhere needs to read, leading others to write things I need to read!

How has God used the internet to bless you?

Lord, You taught us to pray that You will be done on earth as it is in Heaven. Today we pray that Your will be done is cyber-space as well. Thank You that You use all things—even technology—for the good of those who love You. Amen.

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Sunday Devotion- The Ten Commandments for Writers, #4

Janet Rubin

Deut. 5:12 "Observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy, as the LORD your God has commanded you."

Isn't it like people to take a gift from God and turn it around to look like a curse? So often discussions regarding this command involve all the things you "can't do" on the Sabbath. Really, it's about what you don't have to do. Jesus said, "The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath." (Mark 2:27)

God designed us to work. Even before the fall, Adam and Eve had a job; they were to take care of the garden. Adam had a fun job naming the animals. Work was meant to be fulfilling. But our heavenly Father didn't create us just to work. He wanted us to rest, to take a break, to stop and enjoy life. To pause and remember Him.

Writing is a gift, one that many of us have made into a career or are working on turning into a career. An important part of reaching our goals of publication is incorporating writing into our daily schedule. But like with anything, we need a break. Our fingers and wrists need a break after hours of typing. Our minds need a rest. So God has given us the gift of a sabbath- a day to shut off the computer, take a walk with a husband, play Monopoly with our children, have tea with a friend, take a nap, sing to God, watch a movie...

In the creation week God showed us by example; on the seventh day He rested (Genesis 2:2). He knows us so much better than we know ourselves. He knows what we need- mentally, physically, spiritually. His commands are given out of love for us, because He wants the very best for us. Obeying this one will make us more productive, happier people.

Lord, Thank You for giving us permission to take a break. We acknowledge that You know what's best for us, and that all Your commands our good. Help us to get the rest we need.

Amen

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Sunday Devotion- The Gang's All Here

Janet Rubin

This photo, taken by photographer Tim Cook, is from our local newspaper, The New London Day. Big doin's in Waterford yesterday. My husband Dave isn't in this photo, but he was somewhere nearby on the scene, dressed just like these firemen and doing what they were doing-- helping to evacuate one hundred residents from a local nursing home after someone called police threatening to bomb the home. While police with bomb-sniffing dogs searched the nursing home, firemen and other volunteers used every available ambulance, some vans, and even school buses to move the elderly people, along with their walkers, wheelchairs, and oxygen tanks to nearby St. Paul's church.

It was hours before the displaced people were allowed to return. In the meantime, Day staff writer Julie Wernau says they, "crowded around cafeteria-style tables, singing “Hail, hail, the gang's all here” while they waited for the pizza to arrive."

When my husband came home, he said the people were wonderful-- appreciative of the workers' efforts, in good spirits, more or less enjoying the "adventure." When the residents were finally allowed to return home, Dave loaded his pick-up truck with walkers and helped get everything back.

So why would someone threaten to bomb a nursing home of all places? The list of truly safe places is shrinking fast. Work, school, home... shootings, bombings, tornadoes. Life on earth is dangerous. As I look for a lesson in yesterday's incident, I see some lessons we can learn from three things the threatened people did: 1.They ran away to church, 2.they sang together, and 3.they waited.

Just as the world isn't physically safe, it isn't spiritually safe. There is an enemy who threatens us, and his bomb of choice is often temptation. Like a ticking bomb, Satan plops temptation in front of us and waits to see what we'll do. If we stay where we are, that bomb may go off in an explosion of sin that will hurt us and those around us.

Fortunatly, God has an evacuation plan all laid out for us in the Bible. Interesting that the elderly people took refuge at St. Paul's; Paul wrote the verse I'm thinking of:

1 Corinthians 10:13 No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.

"He will provide a way out." The reason that the nursing home staff and town workers were able to deal so well with the bomb scare was that they had a plan. They knew they were going to St. Paul's, they knew how to get there, they'd practiced with drills on many occasions. So what's our plan?

We too can run away to church. Maybe literally to a church building where we can hear the Word and pray, or perhaps to brothers or sisters in Christ who are the church and who can pray with and encourage us, or better yet, to Jesus who is the Head of the church. And we can sing, reminding ourselves that joy comes in having intimacy with God, confessing that He is our strength when we are weak, and lifting our hands so He can deliver us. And we can wait. Our Savior will come to our rescue. James 4:7 says, "Resist the devil, and he will flee from you."

The main point is that we need to evacuate when temptation threatens to draw us into sin. If we cry out to Jesus, He'll show up, like a strong fireman leading us to safety.

Lord, When your disciples asked you to teach them to pray, the prayer you taught them included these lines: "and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." We acknowledge that there is an enemy who wants to destroy us. But we also proclaim that You are far more powerful than that enemy. Help us to listen to you when temptation comes, to follow you when You come to show us the way out and bring us somewhere safe. Thank You that one day we will arrive at an eternally safe home where we will sing something like "The gang's all here," and dine on something even better than pizza. Amen.

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Sunday Devotion- The Ten Commandments for Writers, #6

Janet Rubin

Deuteronomy 5:17 "You shall not murder."

You shall not murder? This might be a tough command for our suspense and mystery writers! How can people like western writer Stephen Bly, who lives by the words, "If the plot drags, shoot someone," possibly obey ole number six? What about suspence novelist Brandilyn Collins? She's always dreaming up new ways to off people.

Is it okay to kill people in your stories? I sure hope so; Jesus did it. Remember the one about the wicked vinedressers who decided to kill the vinyard owner's son and take his inheritance? "So they took him and cast him out of the vineyard and killed him." The story about the Good Samaritan contained violence. Jesus told stories that would touch people's hearts and reveal truth. I suppose for us today it's more a matter of motivation. Whether we are writing the "right" story is a very personal and difficult question. We are responsible for the words we send out into the world. When we manipulate people's emotions with our stories, when we scare them or disturb them, we need to be prayerful about the purpose. What is the truth being revealed?

Of greater concern to God- I think- is what we feel in our hearts toward other people. Jesus said, "You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, 'Do not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.' But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment." And 1 John 3:15 says, "Anyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life in him."

Uh oh.

You mean the violent, angry thoughts I had the last time my crit partner tore apart my chapter were equivalent to murder? The way I fantasize about making a dart board out of a picture of that editor who so rudely rejected me? The hateful reaction you had to a critical review or nasty reader letter? The anger toward the family member who thinks this whole writing thing is a waste of time? Or the friend who just got a contract before you did (and she/he isn't even as good as you!) We'll always have opportunities to let our anger lead to hate, which Jesus says is just as good as murder. He wants us to make a better choice.

When asked what the greatest commandment was, Jesus said this: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments." (Matt. 22:37-40)

Lord, We are emotional people. And perhaps, being writers, we are an especially sensitive and insecure lot. We get hurt easily, offended, discouraged, and jealous. Please be the God of our emotions. Fill us with your Holy Spirit and enable us to love and forgive. We want to love others because You first loved us. Amen.

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Sunday Devotion- Sister Love

Janet Rubin

Two mornings ago, my 8-year-old Cassidy (a normally mellow and happy child) stumbled downstairs in her pajamas with tears streaming. Said her throat hurt “real bad.” She was shaking and feverish and utterly beside herself. About the most upset I’d ever seen her. One peek at her blazing red throat and bulging tonsils dotted with white splotches, and I knew the poor child had Strep. Before calling the doctor’s office, I gave her Tylenol and ushered her back up to bed. Propped her on pillows. Put in a DVD. And she cried and cried.

Meanwhile, her little sister Chloe had been looking on, utterly dismayed to see Cassidy in such a state. She disappeared from the room and returned moments later bearing an envelope, which she tentatively held out to Cass. Her interest piqued, Cassidy’s cries halted in a sniffle, and she opened the envelope. She pulled out a folded piece of light blue construction paper. Unbeknownst to me, Chloe had made a card. In the center was a big Christmas tree drawn with markers, and the words, “I love you Cassidy,” were written beside it, half the letters written backwards.

As Cassidy looked at the card, a smile dawned on her wet, blotchy face. She displayed the card by her bed where she could see it, and then held out her arms. Chloe scooted across the bed, and the sisters had a prolonged hug. Finally Chloe eased back, looked at me and said, “Can I please have my waffles up here so I can stay with Cassidy?”

Of course by now, moved both by compassion for my suffering child and overwhelmed by the blessing of girls who love each other, my mother-emotions had me practically sobbing. I rushed off to make those waffles and call the pediatrician, sending up prayers of intercession and thanksgiving all the while.

I’ve been telling the story of Chloe and the card she gave her sister to every poor shmuck who crosses my path, and today as I considered what to write my Novel Journey devotional about, the story came to mind again. I suppose what made the offering so lovely to me was the motivation. It was love and compassion that prompted Chloe to create and share what she’d created. Those are the emotions that caused a Father to give His Son to a sick and suffering world. The same emotions that caused that Son to stand on a hill overlooking Jerusalem and cry, “Oh Jerusalem, Jerusalem you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.” (Matthew 23:37)

What was lovely about Chloe’s offering was the purity, the absence of self. So rarely are our creative endeavors pure, or even close to pure. I’m a writer, so I know well how the longing for praise or money or fame often overshadow such good motives as pleasing and glorifying God, or encouraging and blessing others. In Romans 7, Paul laments his never-ending struggle with sin—how the things he wants to do he doesn’t do, and the things he doesn’t want to do, he does—then concludes saying, “Oh wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” I quote that scripture saying, “Oh wretched writer that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” Paul has the answer; in the next verse he says, “But thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

The only One who ever created and gave with perfect pure motives came to help all of us who are incapable of doing so, and in rare, shining moments, enables us to imitate him and operate out of love. For even Chloe, sweet as she was in the incident I related above, displays her very human nature on a daily basis as she interacts with her sister. One can often hear her saying, "I wanna go first!" or "I get the bigger brownie!" But I believe the Holy Spirit indwells her too, and I saw Him working through her when she gave that card. He'll do the same in us if we ask for His help.

Lord, how we long to have our creative offerings be pure offerings for You and for others, not tainted by pride and selfishness. Thank You, God, for your gift of love, which we celebrate this month—Jesus leaving glory for a stable so He could grow to be the sacrificial Lamb and save us. Fill us with Your Holy Spirit, Lord. Help us give as You gave. Let our writing bring smiles to others as Chloe’s card brought a smile to her sister. Amen

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Sunday Devotion- A God-moment at the Grocery

Janet Rubin


Ecclesiastes 2:24-25 A man can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in his work. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?


The man whose job it is to gather shopping carts from the parking lot exited the grocery store just as I did. As we squeezed side-by-side through the automatic doors, he remarked, “Next week’s the big two-two for me.”

For a moment he caught me by surprise, speaking to me as if he knew me. But I glanced up and remembered that this familiar-looking man had spoken to me before. We had passed in the parking lot a couple of weeks before Super bowl Sunday, and he’d said, “Greenbay’s goin to the Superbowl. No doubt about it.” He’d been wrong on that count. I frowned, trying to figure out what his current declaration meant. He couldn’t be turning twenty-two; he had to be in his forties or more likely fifties.

Soon enough he cleared up my confusion. “I’ll have been working here for twenty-two years!”

“Wow,” I exclaimed as I shoved my cart through the two-inch deep snow toward my mini-van. “Congratulations. That’s a lot of work you’ve done.” (No wonder the fellow looked familiar; I’d shopped there all my life, which meant I must have been seeing him since I was fourteen!)

I reached my van and opened the hatch, while the man began collecting carts, gathering them together like a cowboy rounding up cattle. “I come here and work hard every day,” he said proudly, “then I go home to a beautiful wife.”

Something stirred inside of me. The man was beaming. “God has blessed you,” I said, meaning it. “You have a good life.”

I piled my Fruit Loops and dog bones and Tide detergent into my van.

“We have a cockatiel named Spike, too. He’s little. Only about this big.” He took his hands off the cart he pushed to indicate the bird’s size.

“That’s cool,” I said. “I have two dogs, named Hunter and Murphy.”

Soon, my groceries were loaded. The man happily took my cart off my hands, and I headed for the driver’s side door, congratulating him again on his twenty-second anniversary. Just before I slammed my door, he hollered, “My name’s Bob, by the way. You’re welcome to visit this store anytime.”

It almost feels like I don’t need to spell out the spiritual lessons here. Does Bob know about Jesus? Maybe I’ll ask him next time I go shopping. Whether he does or not, he’s doing some things the Bible recommends far better than I am.

Bob is content with the life he has been given. He is thankful for his job, his wife and his cockatiel. He’s kind, reaching out to his fellow human beings. He is hard-working and joyful. “I come here and work hard every day,” he said. Can we say that?

I think about how goal-oriented we pre-published writers are. Sometimes it seems that everything is somewhere in the future, the contract-signing day we are living to see. And our happiness somehow hinges on that day coming to pass. My conversations are so often about the books I hope to publish, the degree I hope to earn, the career I hope to have. But God doesn’t want us to store up our treasures in barns or worry about tomorrow. He wants us to be content in every situation, to find pleasure in having worked hard today, and if we are blessed with a family, to treasure them. He doesn’t want us complaining, but rather giving thanks.

I confess that without really thinking about it, I’ve probably always looked down a bit on people like Bob, felt sorry for them. People whose mental capacity relegates them to jobs like grocery-bagging or cart-collecting, without hope of advancement. But as I drove away in my mini-van, I envied Bob. His attitude was so obviously superior to mine. He has acheived a level of contentment that few of us will see this side of heaven. God bless Bob.

Lord, I thank You for putting Bob in my path today. Make me content and thankful like him. Help me to be pleasant and cheerful and helpful. Help me to appreciate the job and family You’ve given me. Thanks for reminding me that it isn’t so much what you do as how you do it. Help me to do my work to the best of my ability, as unto you, and to find pleasure in doing so. Amen

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Sunday Devotion- The Ten Commandments for Writers, #5

Janet Rubin

Deut. 5:16 "Honor your father and your mother, as the LORD your God has commanded you, so that you may live long and that it may go well with you in the land the LORD your God is giving you."


Writers. We have different styles, different genres. Some of us plot everything out, some just write by the seat of the pants. We get our inspiration in different places and none of our stories are exactly alike. But we do have a few things in common. We were all created by the same God, all of us made in His image. And we all have parents.


The first four commandments had to do with how we relate to and honor God. This week, with number Five, He tells us how He wants us to relate to other people, starting with the ones responsible for bringing us into the world- our parents. It's interesting that this post falls on Father's Day, a day when many of us have our minds on dad.


I'm not sure what impacts us more than our upbringing. Whether our parents were strict or lenient, caring or cold, present or absent... these are things we carry for life. We remember the trouble we got in, the words that hurt us, the mistakes we think mom and dad made. The temptation to memorialize those parts of our past by including them in our writing can be strong. Who we are tends to spill onto paper whether we intend it or not, and our parents are indeed part of who we are.



Sometimes it is appropriate to include our parents- literally or disguised as other characters- in our writing, but we must keep this command in mind and prayerfully consider whether our writing is honoring or dishonoring our parents.



God, Your commands are good. Honoring parents can be hard. Please help us to allow You to be the One to heal our hurts and listen to our complaints. Help us not to dishonor our parents before the world. Amen

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Sunday Devotion- Crawl-ins Welcome

Janet Rubin


Maybe it's because I'm a writer, but I love reading signs and bumper stickers. Being a bit "wordy" myself, I'm often amazed how much can be packed into so few words- humor, cynicism, a powerful message. One of my recent favorites is the fishermens' twist on the "Got Milk?" slogan. They've got a bumper sticker that says, "Gut Fish?" Another all-time favorite of mine is the one that says, "What if the Hoky Poky is what it's all about?" (Thank God, it isn't!)


But it was a sign that got me thinking recently. I pass a chiropractor's office in my daily travels. They just put up a new sign by the road. On it is a picture of a stick figure person on all fours, and instead of "walk-ins welcome," it reads, "crawl-ins welcome." Isn't that great?


I thought it would be a great sign to put up in front of a church. People shouldn't have to have it all together to come to church. They come to be healed, touched, restored. Walk-ins welcome, Crawl-ins welcome, drag-ins welcome. Even the ones we have to carry in. Amen?


My pastor says church is like a hospital. You don't come because you are healthy. You come because you are sick and need healing. So we shouldn't be surprised when the people around us are bleeding and vomiting and crying. We should be glad they are in a place where there is help.


I have a terrible habit of shying away from the throne when I'm messed up, feeling that I need to fix myself before I can be with God. But Jesus wants to meet us right where we are. And without an encounter with Him, there is no healing. Are you hurting today? Get yourself to Jesus. Walk, crawl, or just cry out. You are welcome.

Lord, Thank You for welcoming us, whatever shape we're in. You are the Healer. May you sprinkle this message into our stories: "All are welcome." Amen.


Matthew 9:12 " Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick."

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Sunday Devotion: Waiting for "The End"

Janet Rubin



I pulled my daughters’ door shut and heaved a sigh of relief. It had been one of those non-stop days—driving three kids in separate directions, shopping, banking, meetings. Far too much for one 24-hour period, but somehow I’d gotten it all done. I gave myself a mental pat on the back, promising myself that The Reward (collapsing into bed with a great book) was only moments away. All that was left to do was let the dogs out…

Moments later, the putrid stench of skunk permeated the house. I tried telling myself that the odor was from somewhere nearby. And had nothing to do with my dogs. Unfortunately, my optimistic thinking didn’t match the ugly reality: they’d been sprayed. It looked like my book would have to wait.

My husband was conveniently at work (good for him), so it was up to me to restore breathable air to our home. Getting two large Labradors to stand still outside while I hosed them down in the dark seemed unlikely. Persuading them to leap over the lip of my tall claw foot tub proved hopeless; hoisting them over impossible. I went with the only remaining choice—taking them into my walk-in shower (which I’d scrubbed earlier that day.)

I took them in one at a time, me in my clothes and them fighting to get away. I had to straddle each beast and hang on for dear life, squirting with Palmolive, then working his stinking fur into a lather. Great gobs of black fur piled in the drain, so much that I had to toss the wads out onto the bathroom floor every other minute. By the time I’d finished scrubbing them down and toweling them off, my white bathroom was covered in black hair. It would take a writer with far greater talent than I possess to adequately describe to you the amount of hair we’re talking about. If I’d had the forethought, I’d have taken a picture; I should have known I’d write about it!

My white tile floor had grown a black shag rug. The walls and floor of my shower, plus the curtain were also black. Even me—my arms, legs, palms, and clothes were so coated in fur that I looked like something that hadn’t quite evolved all the way.

It was midnight before my dogs, my bathroom, and I were clean and dry. Surely now I deserved to flop with a book? One look at my naked mattress and I almost cried. How could I have forgotten that I’d stripped the bed down that morning? I made up the bed and crawled in. With no energy left for reading, I flipped off the light. I slipped off to sleep thinking, with amazement, that the dogs—laying on the floor by my bed—did not actually smell bad anymore. Most of the skunk spray must have been on the hair that had come out in the washing!

When I tucked my girls in that night, I had thought my work was done. I was tired of that day and ready for it to end. Sometimes we feel that way when we finish writing a novel. We’ve spent months, maybe even years writing the story. We’ve edited and re-written. We want to type, “The End,” and move on. It certainly feels like we’ve worked hard enough. But sometimes we have to do more. Edit one more time, cut things away, scrub it even more so it will shine. And even if we feel we don’t have the energy, we have to do it before we can rest. With our last bit of strength, we go over it again. The wordiness, misspellings, and commas fall away like shedding dog hair, until our stories smell sweeter.

As we walk with God, He promises to conform us to the image of His Son (Romans 8:29). And yes, that takes some major editing! We, His creation, were defiled by an entity far nastier than a skunk. But God loves us still and wants to restore us to the way we were intended to be. We are His story, and we will be made perfect in Him. In order for us to be like Jesus, we must decrease and He must increase. Our sinful self needs to be cut away and His spirit infused. We must be washed in the blood until the stench of sin ceases. Praise God that He is the One who does the work and not we ourselves! And He will not grow weary in His task. He promises to finish the job: Philippians 1:6 “being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

Lord, Thank You that You don’t give up on us or grow too tired of us to finish Your work in our lives. We need Your cleansing, perfecting touch in our lives. Cut what You will. Purge our sin, renew our minds, conform our will to Yours. Please give us strength to persevere and strive for excellence in our lives and in our writing. Amen

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Sunday Devotion: Fresh From the Womb

Janet Rubin

There’s a bit of a baby boom happening in my neck of the woods. Two new ones in the last week at my church and more on the way. You guessed it—I’m sticking to bottled water until the epidemic passes.

As usual, the new arrivals have the women I know reminiscing about their own labor stories. Please don’t stop reading. I’m not about to launch into a retelling of my three joyous deliveries. I’m only leading up to a point.

Of all the labor accounts I’ve heard—long and hard, happily numbed or drug-free, early or late, etc.—all have one thing in common. The people present in the room during the event were carefully selected. A trusted doctor or midwife, a husband or close friend to coach, and the necessary number of nurses. No one I know called for a public viewing (okay, there was that one woman who actually had a live web cast of her giving birth, but really, that’s NOT the norm).

We are particular about who will see us at our worst- spread eagle, naked, at moments seemingly demon-possessed. We’re choosy about who gets to be the first to meet our babies too, when they’re fresh from the womb, not yet wiped clean of the cheesy, white coating they come packaged in. Most of us like to get our precious little bundles cleaned and dressed in the cutest of tiny outfits, with their minuscule bits of hair carefully combed before presenting them to the world.

Authors are like that with their stories too. Many of us have one or maybe two people we’ll let see our “babies” in their messy just-born states—smeared with wordiness, screaming with grammatical errors. The rest of the world sees our cleaned up work. The stuff that’s been rewritten numerous times, and edited until it (hopefully) shines.

Of course this is wise and good. After all, who really wants to witness a birth unless the person is someone close or related to the new life or someone whose career involves helping in the process? And wouldn’t you rather visit your friend’s new baby and hold it in your arms after its smooth pink skin and pearly little toes have been wiped clean? Aren’t you glad novels are edited before they hit the shelves at Borders, and you don’t have to read things in their first messy, confusing drafts?

With labor and first drafts, we can choose to whom we’ll expose ourselves. We select those who love us, those we trust not to reject us having seen our imperfections.

But there is One who sees us at our best and at our worst, whether we invite Him or not. Our Maker sees not only what we choose to show Him, but everything we think, say, and do. All is laid bare before Him. And wonder of wonders, He loves us. Like a good friend who critiques our work and can see mistakes we miss, He points out the things that need fixing in our lives and guides us through the editing process. David understood his need for a spiritual critique and requested one in Psalm 139:23-24:

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."

God, Thank You for putting people in my life who love me for better or worse. And Thank You for Your amazing, unconditional love that doesn’t depend on me being good enough. Help me be open to Your loving critiques and to follow Your guidance. Amen

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