Reader acclaim for Very Truly Yours

Here's what readers are saying about Very Truly Yours:

"... Nicholas Sparks with a Christian twist..."

"The faith that binds."

"Very well written...hooked from the first chapter."

"It frustrated me as a romantic and challenged me

as a Christian, but in the end

I couldn't put it down."

Available in hard cover, paperback, Nook and Kindle e-books through Amazon or Barnes and Noble bookstores. Email me for autographed copies - Maxit1@juno.com.

Heartfelt thanks

To my husband who faithfully served in the U.S. Air Force for more than 20 years;

To my eldest son who continues to defend our freedom by serving in the U.S. Air Force;

To my daughter-in-law who keeps the home fires burning while her husband honors his commitment to God, this country and his family;

To the many others who serve at home or on foreign shores to ensure our many privileges and freedoms... and to their families who allowed them to go; and,

To the many who made the ultimate sacrifice - the gift of their lives,

THIS CITIZEN SALUTES YOU AND THANKS YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE.

It's Here: Very Truly Yours is published.

I am pleased to announce the release of my first full-length novel,

Very Truly Yours

Very Truly Yours is a story of two people who plan to build a life together
 ...until they discover that one of them is already married.

Perhaps Buddy Madsen set her “husband goals” too high. The man who wins her heart must gain her family’s approval, be a good provider, love her unconditionally, and, most of all, share her strong faith. David Willoughby, the handsome New York architect who guest lectures her class does not meet those goals. But Buddy is attracted to him. She petitions God to guard her heart, and they go their separate ways – she to the security of family, he in search of a marriage that offers social prominence and career advancement.    

At their next meeting several years later, Buddy recognizes positive changes in David. He has given up his philandering ways. She is delighted with the changes she sees in him. Perhaps they can develop a forever relationship after all? Perhaps David can avoid the devastating consequences of his previous philandering lifestyle. Or perhaps, for them, it’s just too late.

Through every phase of their relationship, Buddy and David must choose between what is right and what is acceptable, what is honorable and what is selfish. But they are not perfect, and their desire to be together often drives them to take paths that could sideline their future, and their faith.

Very Truly Yours is available for purchase at your favorite booksellers: 

Amazon www.amazon.com

Barnes and Noble www.bn.com

and the publisher,

Westbow Press, a division of Thomas Nelson

www.westbowpress.com

Autographed copies also available. Email your request to:

Maxinethomas360@yahoo.com

or send your request through the comment window on this blog.

Happy Reading!

In the eye of the storm

Hurricane Sandy is fast approaching. The winds howl as torrential rains whip sideways before landing on soggy earth. And yet, I am not panicked. The words of this old hymn remind me I don't go through this exprience alone.

"In the lightning flash across the sky

His mighty power I see,

And I know if He can reign on high

His light can shine on me.

When the thunder shakes the mighty hills

And trembles every tree

Then I know a God so great and strong

Can surely harbor me

I’ve seen Him in the lightning,

Heard Him in the thunder,

And felt Him in the rain;

May Lord is near me all the time

My Lord is near me all the time."

Be safe.

Max

My Lord is Near me all the Time; Barbara Fowler Gaultney; © Baptist Hymnal 1975, Hymn No. 209.

This writing life

Sometimes the muse fades. Sometimes there isn’t a single thought that the writer thinks is worth developing and there’s nothing left to do but walk away from the keyboard.

So it was with me this week, and regrettably I haven’t blogged. My frustration has been so great that, had I been using a typewriter, I would have yanked the sheets of paper from the platen, crumpled them in disgust and tossed them into the trash. Or onto the floor. Or at the head of whoever happened to be passing by at that moment. But I use a computer and computers are not well suited to tossing.

But here’s what I have done:

-          Raked and bagged leaves fallen from the giant maple in the front yard

-          Pulled some weeds

-          Watched too many presidential debates

-          Argued pro and con too many political issues

-          Played Word with Friends with friends

-          Gone to lunch with friends

-          Skyped with friends

-          Read several books to a grandchild

-          Prayed some, sang some, read some, ate some, laughed some

-          And sometimes I just sat.

Maybe inspiration will return tomorrow.

Max

It's about the craftsman, not the tools

Phil is a first-class handyman. There is no task too menial, too large, too cumbersome or too complex for him to tackle. With his home-made, canvas tool belt tied around his middle, he tackles any aspect of home or vehicle or appliance repair, from plumbing, carpentry, and repairing broken windows to tuning lawn mower engines and changing the oil in the family car. There’s only one problem, a problem that only he sees: He never has the right tools. Whatever the project, he stops half way through and walks away in disgust muttering, I can’t do this; I don’t have the right tools. Inevitably he returns, attacks the project with renewed fervor using something he contrived in his workshop, and completes the job.

                Ill-equipped, incompetent, unprepared, and inadequate, are words the enemy uses to instill fear, discomfort and a sense of defeat in all of us. We question our ability, our knowledge and strength to do the job. We wonder if we really are called to serve in a specific place, or if our passion for a particular project is misplaced. We hesitate when opportunities face us and we question the appropriateness of our actions when we move ahead.

God doesn’t ask us to provide the right tools, or the best education, or depth of knowledge or worldly know-how before sending us out to do his work. What he asks is that we make ourselves available to him. [Romans 12:1] He is able to do more with our availability than with our ability. We are the tool he wants to use to accomplish his work.

This childhood song confirms the truth of scripture,  - that God uses committed people regardless of what they have to offer, to accomplish his mighty works.      

Shamgar had an oxgoad (1)

David had a sling (2)

Dorcas had a needle (3)

Rahab had some string (4)

Samson had a jawbone (5)

Aaron had a rod (6)

Mary had some ointment (7)

And they all were used by God.

For further study:

(1)     Judges 3:31; (2) I. Sam. 17:49; (3) Acts 9:36; (4) Joshua 2:15;

(5) Judges 15:15; (6) Ex. 7:9-12; (7) John 12:3       

Re-programming Grammie

Grandson Sonic (he’d be mortified if I mentioned him by name) scooted across the couch and snuggled close. It was nearly bedtime and he was stalling as young boys are likely to do. But it was Friday, and with no school or early appointments scheduled for Saturday, his mother was being lenient with the normally inflexible schedule. It was a tender moment, just he and me, uninterrupted by noises from the television or those annoying electronic games. After a few moments, I leaned over to him and whispered, “It’s almost time to go night-night.”

How could I have known that this simple phrase, used since he was a babe in arms would open the way to his asserting his transition into young-manhood.  

“Grammie, can I talk to you about something?”

I had heard these words before. Sometimes the request was followed by “can we talk in private?” and led to disclosure of an uncomfortable experience in school or on the playground, or for guidance on how to make a request to mom. He didn’t move from his seat and it soon became evident that I would be the subject of this discussion.

“Grammie, will you stop treating me like a baby?”

“Sweetie, how do I treat you like a baby?” I was certain any baby-ing moments were initiated by him.

“You say things like ‘night-night’. That’s baby talk. You could just tell me it’s time to go to bed.

                “Okay,” I agreed, “I won’t say that any more. Anything else?”

                “Don’t call me ‘sweetie’ when my friends are here. It’s embarrassing.”

Thinking back over the events of the afternoon, I recalled he shouted “hi Grammie” to me as I walked past the group earlier, and I called back, ‘hey sweetie’. The truth is, I use words like sweetie, honey, sweetheart, buddy, darling, guys and kids, because I sometimes can’t remember the child’s name in the moment. It’s convenient and quicker than reciting a litany of names in search of the right one.

                “Okay, I won’t,” I agreed. I wondered if other endearments were off limits. “Can I call you ‘buddy’?” He assured me buddy was tolerable. But there was one much more important thing he needed me to understand: I didn't have to shout for Grampa every time I saw a stink bug inside the house. He could take care of stink bugs just as well as Grampa.

             I applauded his willingness to make his wishes known to me. It may take a while, but I shall work on reprogramming my language. I'll miss the special warmth of honey and sweetie tags, but Sonic, as far as I am concerned, you can be the official stink bug killer of every stink bug ever created. 

Sunday Serendipity - Blessed

The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;

 indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.

Psalm 16:6 ESV

Thank you Father. I am eternally grateful.

Lion taming

I participated in a personality quiz the other day. Typically I steer clear of personality quizzes. They all seem to ask the same questions yet arrive at dissimilar conclusions, and the most popular questionnaires compare personality traits to animals, foods, colors, super heroes and cartoon characters. Anyway, I took the quiz. I blame my acquiescence on my tired but mellow state of mind, and the fact that the inventory had been given to me by my Pastor, a man for whom I have great admiration and respect. 

This quiz revealed that I have personality traits similar to that of a LION with secondary traits of an OTTER.  (I’m still trying to figure out that combination).

            This “diagnosis” started me on a trek down memory lane to identify those occasions when my lion-like persona overshadowed my otter side. I recall one occasion when I went out to dinner with several women friends. We were chaperones at a youth convention. (I don’t remember how we lost the youth but I do know the youth were not with us at dinner). The server told us to seat ourselves and pointed out three separate tables. None of the women moved forward, but I remember hearing one woman whisper from behind me, “Let's wait and see how Max handles this.” Challenge! So after a quick survey of the room, I rearranged a few tables and had the ladies seated before the server returned with menus. Lion-like? Maybe, but wouldn’t you do the same?

            Then there was the time I heard a mom screaming in frustration at her 6-ish year old daughter in the toy aisle at Target. I had to intervene. Even as I moved boldly forward I could hear my daughter urging me to “stay out of it, Mom.” I ignored her, of course. It took maybe three minutes to calm Mom and avert what could certainly have escalated into a horribly abusive situation. How many times have parents become frustrated and taken out their anger on poor helpless kids?

I think I like the lion title. Lions take charge. “Lions” make decisions quickly and follow up with action. They speak up; they get things done; they are producers. That’s a good thing, right?

But there are negative aspects of this lion personality too. When a lion is in the vicinity of other animals, the others instinctively run for cover. It is sometimes the same with people. When the take-charge person moves forward, others often retreat. They make no attempt to take on leadership roles assuming there is no need for another leader.  A “lion” in their midst obviates the need to make decisions, to takes chances and, ultimately, to grow. That’s not good.

So for the next month or so, this particular lion aims to try out the personality of a pussy cat (or otter). It means backing off and allowing others the opportunity to take the lead. It means allowing others to float their ideas and follow through, especially when I am convinced that I can get the job done quicker and more efficiently. It means encouraging others to take risk. It means allowing others the opportunity to grow. It's certainly worth trying.

Max

When silence is not golden

Two police officers left some pretty scary information at our house recently: A convicted, sexual predator was being housed at a location within a mile of our home. The officers left a handout with the offender’s name, location and a photograph, and by doing so, fulfilled their responsibility to the law-abiding neighbors.   

What is frightening, and the issue with which I take umbrage, is that community residents are forbidden to [quoting from the flier] “share the flier or information in the flier with anyone outside the immediate household.” The officer explained in further detail: If my friend’s kids come to visit in my home, I can disclose the information to them, but if I see the offender chatting up a child on the street, I may not intervene. My response: “Wanna bet?”

I believe the offender lost his right to anonymity when he committed a crime, was convicted in a court of law, and deemed likely to reoffend. Talk to me about protecting his rights after he has gone through years of rehabilitative therapy. Talk to me after he has been monitored for an extensive period of time and not reoffended, thereby proving his rehabilitation. Talk to me after he has held a job, paid his taxes, volunteered in the community, and earned the public trust.   

If I am truly my brother’s keeper, I have no option but to warn my friends and neighbors about this predator’s presence. I will immediately intervene if he is hanging around a child, or a school, or the neighborhood swimming pool, or lurking outside the karate studio. Time and again, the long arm of the law has proven to be too short and too slow to enforce imposed restrictions. Let’s not forget that Megan Kanka’s murderer had two previous convictions but was allowed to continue living in her community without adequate supervision. I say it’s time we start considering the rights of law-abiding citizens and remember that law-breakers have abdicated theirs.     

Remain silent? I think not.

Max

10 things to do before winter sets in

It’s fall. I know this because the leaves in the large maple in the front yard are turning yellow, the garden stores have received their first shipment of mums, the last three tomatoes on the vine are refusing to ripen, and the crickets are looking for a warm corner inside my house. So I am making a list of the top 10 things I need to accomplish before winter sets in.

1.    Winterize the vegetable garden. What that really means is, make a list of chores for husband to winterize the garden.   

2.    Close the pool. Translation - call the pool people and have them close the pool. 

3.    Visit Mom in Florida. Haven’t seen her in several months and she no longer wants to deal with the hassles of flying. (I think I’ll wait a few more weeks until the weather here turns cooler, then I’ll really enjoy Florida). 

4.     Prepare the house for fall. Pack away summer dishes, beach towels, deck umbrella, insect repellent and sun block; put out fall-themed pillows, wreaths, and spice-scented candles. 

5.    Update the Christmas card mailing list. (Surely I’m not the only one who hasn’t resorted to online greeting cards?)   

6.     Prepare first draft of the family Christmas letter. I like to receive them, so I have to send them.

7.     Plan a long weekend trip to see the grandkids. It’s been too long since their summer visit.  

8.     Mow the grass one last time. 

9.     Begin drafting my 2013 bucket list. 

10.    

  

What have I missed? Please share your suggestions for number 10.

Max

A Benefit? To whom

Friend was recently downsized from her government job. Friend followed procedures and registered for unemployment benefits - an entitlement, having worked for a substantial period of time. Said benefits, she discovered, do not include health insurance coverage.

            So tell me, why should this person or any other hard-working, land-of-the-free-and-home-of-the-brave American citizen begin the process of seeking further employment when unemployed, non-citizens are being awarded insurance benefits at no cost to themselves?

            I'd like to hear what you think.

Another commentary on race

Yesterday (September 24^th) while flipping through TV channels I came across The Jeff Probst Show. The discussion topic was, Things you can’t say on TV. I was hooked when a member of the studio audience, a youngish, white male, said he didn’t know if he was being offensive when he used the terms black or African-American or people of color and he wasn’t sure if either was correct. I don’t think he received a complete answer; this is how I would have responded:   

Anthropologists historically categorize people as belonging to five main races. Described by color (note: I refrained from saying skin color), these races are Red, referring to North American Indians; Yellow, people of Asian ancestry; Black, people of African ancestry; White, those of European and Scandinavian ancestry; and Brown, people of Latin ancestry including South Americans, and some Caribbean countries. The 21^st century politically correct racial terms are Native American, Asian, Black, Caucasian and Latino or Hispanic. So it is not offensive to speak of a “black” person when discussing race.

The problem arises when we assume race and culture are interchangeable. What I call a “hyphenated-American” descriptor speaks of culture, not race. African-American, Italian-American, Cuban-American, German-American are cultural terms. Culture speaks of a person’s lifestyle, religious beliefs, dress, food, activities, music, speech patterns, and more. Cultures evolve as people move from country to country and within various societies, bring their own cultural practices to that new environment, and assume that society’s practices and norms as their own. So a black Frenchman who moves to America cannot rightly be described as African-American based solely on his skin color. The cultural practices he brings with him from France which he continues to identify with in America make him French-American.

Cultural identification is primarily a choice. It is an indicator of how one chooses to live, and is related to the social practices, morals, traditions and mores with which one identifies. Since culture groups include people of various ethnicities, the “hyphenated-American” as a cultural descriptor may be applied to people of different skin colors. A biracial person of Korean and African ancestry who lives in America might consider himself African-American or Korean-American. It is his choice. Most people from the English-speaking Caribbean countries identify themselves as Caribbean-American (or Jamaican-American, or Trinidadian-American), in spite of varying degrees of skin color and wide diversity of ethnic origins.  So black and African-American are not interchangeable.

                The term people of color is correctly used to describe groups of people who are not Caucasian (white). Colored person is inappropriate and considered an insult.

                One final point: The Bible teaches that all people descended from one man, Adam. [See Genesis 1 through Genesis 5 for the creation account]. In fact, every time race is mentioned in the Bible, it refers to the human race, never a sub-set of people. One common ancestor, then, means there is only one race. There is no racial divide.

Contrary to conclusions drawn through ignorance and still held in some places today, scientific research confirms that there is no biological difference between the races. It is the reason why blood, organs, and bone marrow can be successfully transplanted between people of different ethnic origins. In recognition of this, anthropologists around the world are modifying their verbal and written language, replacing the word “race” with “people groups.

I am eager to hear your comments.

Max

Sunday Serendipity- We win.

But you belong to God, my dear children. You have already won a victory over those people, because the Spirit who lives in you is greater than the spirit who lives in the world. I John 4:4 NLT

Where everybody knows your name?

It used to be that security meant having a dead bolt lock on the front door. Not anymore. Today, nobody can conduct business at a courthouse, a state or federal office, a museum or board an aircraft without being screened by armed security officers. Even churches now conduct a criminal background check of their volunteer members before allowing them to serve in certain ministries.

In light of the horror stories of security breaches in many corporation, I have taken extraordinary precautions to protect my identity. Working from the premise that reducing opportunities for strangers to handle my personal documents reduces opportunities for identity theft, I made three simple but far-reaching lifestyle changes: first, I rented a post office box and re-directed all my mail to that address. The rental cost is minimal and a simple reorganization of my schedule allows me to collect my mail once a day; second, I switched to paperless billing.  I was probably the last holdout, but I am now convinced that businesses are implementing the newest technologies to protect their records; third, I no longer contract with a curbside garbage collection company. Instead, husband takes our trash to the township dump for secure, monitored disposal. And we shred important, traceable documents.

The changes have worked well – too well I discovered when I attempted to renew my driver’s license. I found that while I can still prove who I am, I can no longer prove where I live. The measures I took to prevent identity theft now work against me.  

            I handed the DMV receptionist my picture ID along with my expiring driver’s license. She asked for additional government-issued identification; I had nothing more. She suggested I return with my passport. Three days later I handed over my expiring driver’s license, picture ID, completed paperwork and (reluctantly) my passport. So it was with great surprise that I heard her say that she needed still more identification, something that confirmed my street address, not the post office box. Rummaging through the vast wasteland that is my handbag, I pulled out one slightly tattered checkbook, a pay statement, two letter envelopes, a business card, a graduation invitation, all of which bore my name and my post office box address. She suggested I bring in my car insurance certificate. Aha!

            I trudged back to the parking lot. From the glove compartment I retrieved the plastic sleeve containing important car stuff. I handed it over, but not before noticing that the top document in the packet was a motor vehicle registration card with my street address. Back in the office, the woman set aside the top item and went for the insurance certificate which bore (you guessed it) my post office box. With some consternation I asked why she discarded the vehicle registration card.

            “It’s issued by the DMV,” she said, (and this part really confused me,) “and we can’t use our own documents as verification.” 

            By that time I was fuming. “What about a bill? she asked.

            “I pay them online,” I said.

            “Electric bill?”

            “It’s in my husband’s name. How about a magazine subscription?”

            “That’s not first class mail,” she replied.

            “I guess I’ll have to get a notarized letter from the President” I said, tongue in cheek. (Of the company where I worked, not the President President. I was getting desperate.)

            “Wouldn't do you any good, but we’ll take your income tax return."

            “Heck, no,” I said.  (After all, a tax return is private information and definitely not government issue.) 

            She shrugged and returned my documents. The testaments to my existence were no good at the DMV. I bid her a steely “good evening.” (I know “steely”. I’d perfected that look when my kids were teenagers.)

           

How do I insulate myself against identity theft without robbing myself of an identity? Can I no longer prove who I am or where I live without resorting to trickery? Does my good name mean nothing? Is my community standing without value? 

           

Back at home, I rummaged through the day’s mail. Every label was addressed to my post office box. So I did what I should have done in the first place. I wrote myself a letter and mailed it to my street address. It arrived in the mail today. Tomorrow I shall take it to the DMV and, hopefully, qualify for a driver’s license.

            Now if I can just remember to shred that envelope…

Max

Sunday Serendipity - Be alert!

Jesus said:
"I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and innocent as doves." Matt. 10:16 [NIV]

Father, you called us to go out into a world that is bent on devouring us. Help us to be constantly alert to the dangers that surround us, and ever aware of opportunities to share your message. We want to be effective ambassadors of Christ. In Jesus Name.

Gone

We took one last trip with the grandkids this summer to Liberty State Park, spending most of our time at the Liberty Science museum, picnicking in the shade trees, ferrying across the Hudson River to Liberty Island and the Statue of Liberty, and ending with a hushed walk through Empty Sky. Empty Sky, New Jersey’s memorial to the victims of the 9-11 massacre, consists of two parallel walls, about thirty feet high, with the names of the more than 700 New Jersey residents etched forever in its stone. The parallel walls are situated so that the visitors’ view is directed across the river toward Ground Zero. We strolled through those walls, touched the names, and tried to remember or imagine the events of that fateful day (the oldest kids were not born until later that year). The activity proved to be a solemn ending to what had been a really fun excursion. 

Eleven years after the 9-11 attack, the event has joined others that are forever engraved in my memory – the assassinations of President John F. Kennedy and Martin Luther King; the explosion of the Challenger space shuttle; the Columbine High School massacre - events that left me diminished because of our collective loss.

But the loss was more than a "collective" one to many people. It was personal, and frightening, and lonely, and empty. In her memoir, Where You Left Me, Jennifer Gardner Trulson writes of the vacuum left by the 9-11 attack: 

“Gone. That simple word can be so benign...when someone leaves a room, he’s gone; when

your toddler eats her carrots, they’re all gone. Doug [her husband] went to work and was

gone in the usual way. Until he wasn’t. Until that gone became something else entirely, just 

a few hours later. Gone became ‘vanished’, ‘lost’, ‘evaporated’. It was the worst gone that

I’d ever known...”*

To survivors, family members, first responders, members of the military, cab drivers, medical personnel, police officers... Thank you for your service and your sacrifice. We will NEVER forget.

Max

                                                                                                                                               

*Where You Left Me © 2011 by Jennifer Gardner Trulson.,

pub. Gallery Books, Div. of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Sunday Serendipity - Go boldly. You are not alone.

Be strong and very courageous. Be careful to obey all the law my servant Moses gave you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, that you may be successful wherever you go. Keep this Book of the Law always on your lips; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.

JOSHUA 1: 7-9 NIV.

My dream of writing for ministry has been fraught with bumps and potholes. And yet, I remain confident that this is the path God has chosen for me. When rejection letters abound, this passage of Scripture reminds me that my role is to keep my priorities in order and be courageous. I don't do this alone. HE goes before me.

What are your goals? How do you maintain your focus? 

It's not a book and yet...

As a writer I am also an avid reader. I read pretty much anything. In fact, one of my earliest memories is of my father declaring a certain tabloid off limits at home after he caught me, his 10 year old, engrossed in a particularly graphic account of a hometown murder. (I’m pretty certain he continued to purchase that paper although it never crossed our doors again). But I digress.

I enjoy fiction. My favorites are stories that begin with impossible scenarios and culminate in happy-ever-after endings. I like the feel of a book’s pages and have been known to ignore the dreaded paper cut until after the final chapter. Before starting the story, I read the back cover, from synopsis to author’s bio, the reviews, publisher info, copyright date, acknowledgements, and, in inspirational fiction, the scripture verse. When I get to the end of the story, (usually lying in bed with the blanket shielding the reading light from my sleeping spouse), I mentally relive the final scenes before setting the book aside. I love books.

So it was with a great deal of frustration that I recently tossed aside my last three selections without reading them. Why? Because these “eyes of a certain age” could not decipher the words well enough to allow me to lose myself in the story. Has anyone noticed that today’s printed material have a smaller font, paler inks, and flimsier, grayer papers compared with, say, a decade ago? I checked with a friend at the newspaper who confirmed the trend as a money-saving measure brought about by escalating sales of electronic books and the decrease in print material, a trend not likely to change. So, resigned to the change, I purchased an e-reader (mine rhymes with Cook) and downloaded a selection of novels.

I'm finding that e-books have their shortcomings. I can’t lend or borrow them at will, they don’t promote sensory satisfaction and I can’t stack them for a pedestal or arrange them by the color of the jacket. But I can increase the font and adjust the backlight to relieve the stress on these tired, aging eyes. Also, no paper cuts. I am satisfied.

Max

Treading water

The six year old thought we had left him to drown. From the middle of the lake he cried out for help as he watched the boat with his family speed away.  

Our families had gathered at Smith Mountain Lake for the annual summer reunion. The young cousins developed a love for tubing and had gone from being hesitant, to comfortable, to being daredevils in the water. They rode the tubes holding on with only one hand or letting go completely. They tubed standing up, flat on their backs, and doing handstands. It was while performing a stunt that the six year old lost his grip and ended up bobbing alone in the huge expanse. His cries carried over the hum of the engine. His arms flailed as he called us back. He was in full panic mode, but until we turned the boat around, there was nothing we could do to comfort him.

His uncle, the skipper, slowed the pontoon boat and began the long, slow turn to rescue his nephew. He silenced the engine as we drew near to the little one. We shouted at him to swim towards us, but the child kept sobbing. Finally the boat drew close; we threw him a line and pulled him to safety. In a saner moment he would have calmly tread water supported by his life vest. In his heart of hearts he knew we would not abandon him, but in the middle of the lake doubt and fear rendered him powerless.

Our Lord reminds us that we need not be fearful in difficult circumstances because we don’t go through those challenges on our own. “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” [Hebrews 13:5]. The promise is repeated many times from Genesis to Revelation, and yet when trials come our way, our first response is to panic. Like the six year old, we question God’s ability or willingness to rescue us. He wants us to rely on him completely, all the time, in every situation. He said he would never leave, and never is a long, long time.



Sunday Serendipity - People Pleaser?

Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ.

-Galatians 1:10 (NIV)

What motivates me? Why do I do what I do? Do I take on tasks only because of the rewards offered? Would I carry out this mission if there were no reward involved?  

Ch-ch-ch-changes

I recently read a magazine article featuring people who walked away from lucrative careers to venture into some totally unrelated past-time. The impetus for the switch had to do with being stressed or bored, struggling with a moral dilemma, or just overall dissatisfaction with their quality of life. Often the career change resulted in selling the family home and moving to a new living environment, maybe out of state, or just away from the hustle of a big city to a sedate country lifestyle. Spouses surrendered their own jobs, kids changed schools, and the entire family faced making new social connections. According to the article, all the people interviewed reported being happy with the change.

Three months ago, I made a similar change. I walked away from a successful grant-writing career to pursue my dream of writing for the ministry. It was not an easy decision. I struggled with resigning a job that provided a steady paycheck in favor of fulfilling my passion for writing stories of faith. Could I work from home without distraction? Was I sufficiently disciplined to write regularly without the prospect of immediate financial reward?  Was I allowing my passion to cloud my thinking?

In spite of the uncertainties, I made the change. The impetus to do so is the God-given mandate to take his message to the world. The vehicle I choose is story. It’s a valid vehicle - it’s the method Jesus used to teach his disciples. The Bible calls his stories parables, earthly stories with a heavenly (spiritual) message.  

My first full length story is scheduled for publication in October/November this year. More later.

Max

Sunday Serendipity - Choose Life

I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your god, listen to his voice, and hold fast to him. For the Lord is your life, and he will give you many years in the land he swore to give to your fathers, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.

Deuteronomy 30: 19, 20 (NIV)

Procrastinator is not one of the words I would use to describe myself. And yet, I have delayed submitting this first post for more than a year. Why? Well, it wasn’t because I had nothing to say. Rather, it is because I care so deeply about what you might think of my writing and my opinions, and, by extension, what you think about me. For the last year I have I written, edited, and filed away without submitting, waiting for the opportune time to upload. I’ve decided that now is the time for this new beginning.

So please join me on this new venture. I plan to write about my greatest passions (faith, family, grandchildren, the pleasures of country living, good reads, friends) and any other subject that stirs me in the moment. I pledge to write honestly.

I hope you will read my posts and share your thoughts with me.

Max