Purity on the Line
Where there is no vision, the people are unrestrained, but happy is he who keeps the law.
Proverbs 29:18 NASB
A dear friend, Pat Orton, who once worked closely with me at FamilyLife, wrote me a letter several years ago to tell me about a line her parents had drawn in the sand for her as a teenager.
The waistline.
Pat's mom and dad told her that whenever she was out with a young man, the only place he was allowed to touch her was on her back, from her shoulder to her waist. Anywhere else on her body was totally off-limits. And never--never ever--was he to put his hand on her knee. It was a way for her to know--immediately--that if a boy's hands ever strayed out of bounds, watch out! This was leading to trouble!
Funny what boundaries can do once they are clearly established. Crossing them is still quite possible, of course, but not without knowing you're breaking trust. And for Pat and her boyfriend-turned-fiancé, this simple, clearly defined expectation remained in force throughout their four-year courtship.
Back only. Shoulder to waistline. Nothing further . . . until their wedding day. As they pulled away from the church on their way to their honeymoon, he tenderly reached over and placed his hand on her knee. "I've been waiting four years to do that!" he said with a grin so big it made her smile, too.
Isn't that just delightful? What purity! What innocence! What a testimony to the joy we help our children preserve for themselves when we draw the right boundaries, enforce the right restrictions and keep an eye out for their obedience.
That's how to start a marriage. And Mom and Dad, that's what you're here to help happen.
Discuss
What kind of boundaries are you challenging your children to keep with the opposite sex?
Pray
Pray that God will keep you cautious, even when the last thing in the world you want to do is lay down the law.
Buy Moments with You
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Sunday, February 8, 2009
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
Harvest House Publishers (January 1, 2009)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Kathi Lipp is a busy conference and retreat speaker, currently speaking more than 45 times each year to thousands of women. Lipp is also a contributing author to two bestselling books: Humor for a Woman’s Heart 2 and Lists to Live By: The Christian Collection. She also has had articles published in several magazines, including Today’s Christian Woman and Discipleship Journal. Kathi and her husband, Roger, are the parents of four teenagers and live in California.Visit the author's website.
Product Details:
List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 208 pages
Publisher: Harvest House Publishers (January 1, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0736925228
ISBN-13: 978-0736925228
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Why the Husband Project?
“Kathi, a couple of us need to quit the project.”
I couldn’t believe what Angela was saying. Quit the Husband Project? We’d just started that weekend.
“Ang, are you kidding me? Why do you want to quit already?” There was no way things could be going downhill so quickly.
“I was talking to some of the other girls, and because we’re being so nice, our husbands are becoming suspicious. They think we’re all having affairs!”
Apparently, there’s a bigger need for the Husband Project than even I could have expected.
The Beginning of the Husband Project
At my busy church in San Jose, California, I serve in a variety of roles. Some of the roles I have played have been on the programming team with my husband, Roger, who is the director of the Worship Arts Ministry, leading Bible studies and small groups and taking meals to people who are sick or having babies. But my favorite role by far is mentoring women.
The girls I mentor are smart, funny, and committed to serving God. They really are amazing. However, like most wives I know, they have a tendency to “share” about their husbands.
“He’s never home. I feel like I’m single – but with an extra person to clean up after.”
“Why is it when he’s watching our kids it’s babysitting?”
“We used to be romantic, but now our idea of romance is reading take-out menus together.”
The “sharing” started to concern me. I wasn’t judging these girls; trust me. I found myself slipping every once in a while – saying something “endearing” about my husband while rolling my eyes.
A Change in Perspective
I know the importance of loving and honoring my husband, and like every other lesson in my life, I learned it the hard way. (Why can’t I ever learn things while eating chocolates and shopping…?)
I married in my early twenties’ with two babies came along shortly after the marriage vows. In retrospect, I can see that as soon as discovered the wonders of a Diaper Genie, my concentration shifted from my husband to the day-to-day care of my kids. With a full-time job thrown in, the goal of making my husband feel special dropped way down on my priority list.
After a very painful marriage and divorce, I am now remarried to an amazing guy. When new friends meet him they say, “Oh, so this is Prince Charming!” He’s a great father and step dad, and loves me and his God and indulges my passion for fat-free coconut yogurt on a regular basis. I really couldn’t ask for a better guy.
And, yet, like a great pair of comfortable flip flops, he’s sometimes easy to take him for granted. He’s always there - not demanding anything of me. He can fix his own frozen pizza when I am too busy to cook and can even wash his own socks in a pinch. When work deadlines loom and kids have dozens of activities, I sometimes let my relationship with Rog fall to sixth or seventh on my “Hey, pay attention to me!” list.
Have you noticed our culture has a one-way expectation that men should give women what they “need” (sending flowers to work, doing his share of the dirty work around the house, being a great dad, remembering and celebrating anniversaries) without asking for anything in return? But, as we know, this fantasy man isn’t real a husband, it’s a character in a dime store romance novel.
The kind of marriage I want is one in which we’re both doing all we can to honor and love each other, putting each other’s needs above our own.
Philippians 2:3-4 says it best: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
I want this for both of us. The reality is, however, I only have control over my own actions.
Enter the Husband Project
I tried different ideas with some of my friends at church – a variety of “husband encouragement programs.” Most seemed like a lot of work and not much fun. You see, I have the attention span of a third-grader who’s just spent six straight hours on X-Box. So I needed something short, doable and exciting. We, as stressed-out and over-worked wives and moms, don’t need to feel burdened by another line on our to-do lists.
So I started thinking and praying about what would truly make my husband feel loved (and maybe even lucky to be married to me.) I made up a list and began practicing on Roger. Some of the ideas (buying him a gift card to his favorite restaurant and surprising him with an impromptu date) were big hits. Others (like opening mystery clues for an all day adventure) were, let’s say, less than successful.
After several flops (hey, I thought the guys at his work would think that his lunch sack covered in hearts was adorable…) I finally got desperate. I asked him, “Okay, what would make you feel loved?” (And yes, I felt pretty pathetic to be asking.) After showing him the list, he gave me thumbs up or down on several of the items. I now had a much clearer plan in place. No, cookies in the shapes of bunnies were not necessary. Homemade raw cookie dough, however, was a big thumbs up. Yes, I asked the questions. I have gone where women fear to tread. I am in possession of the knowledge of what men (or at least my man) like.
This is how The Husband Project was born.
The premise is simple:
You, and two other friends (your accountability partners) commit to bless your husbands everyday for three weeks, in secret.
That’s it. Pretty simple, granted. But not always easy.
No Cookie-Cutter Marriages
While working on the Projects, I talked with friends of all ages, in very different marital situations.
Some of my friends were in the oh-so-romantic stage of marriage. You’re just done in by how beautifully he shaves. As you pick up his clothes from the bedroom floor, you just can’t help but giggle at how adorable it is that he never puts anything away.
On the other side of the spectrum, I have girlfriends who cannot stand to be in the same room with their husbands while they’re breathing. The “inhale, exhale” is enough to make them want to take up residence at a nice studio apartment in town.
And then, there are the other 94% of us.
We’re the ones who love our husbands but have fallen into a comfortable routine. (Comfortable often meaning, you don’t bug me and I won’t bug you.) We’re partners in parenting and contributors to financial matters. We’ve negotiated the household chores (I’ll do the dishes if you keep the car from making funny noises,) and keep each other on schedule for the dentist and the occasional oil change.
We like our husbands, for the most part. And they like us, for the most part. While this is okay, it’s definitely not what we were anticipating as we planned our weddings and dreamed about our happily-ever-after lives.
I have to admit, I’m writing this book for me and my friends – the 94% who want better relationships with our men and are willing to be creative, thoughtful, and possibly daring enough to break out some lingerie to get it.
“But He Doesn’t Even Notice”
Some women who have tried the Projects for a few days wondered if it’s even worth it. After doing several of the Projects, they complained that their husbands have barely noticed.
So, if you’re wearing your cute jeans to meet your husband in the evenings, leaving bags of gummi bears for him in his car, and wearing shorter and shorter lingerie to bed each night without comment from your man, don’t be discouraged.
Working The Husband Project is a lot like working on your prayer life. For example, I recently committed to setting aside a chunk of time daily to pray. As I devote more time to prayer and meditation, I’m realizing that my requests are less about asking God to make things go my way, and more about asking God to change my heart to follow Him and His plans for me.
This project is as much about changing our attitudes as it is about blessing our husbands. It’s great to get positive reinforcement, and when you do, write it down so you can remember it and tailor the way that you show your love in the future.
But even when your husband says nothing, you have the knowledge that you have actively shown him love and support. That’s the true gift of The Husband Project.
If you still need some affirmation (and who doesn’t?) look for it in other healthy places. In my case I have a friend, Lynn, who sends me a small gift whenever I complete a goal for writing. Even if I don’t sell an article, I still have the hope of some great Snoopy stickers in the mail.
Ask your accountability partners to celebrate your successes with you. Perhaps, if each of you does your daily project for seven days, you give each other a $5 Starbucks card, or if you do all 21 days, you all spend an afternoon together at the spa. Be creative, as it says in Hebrews 10:24, “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” A grande latte could be an excellent way to start.
“Kathi, a couple of us need to quit the project.”
I couldn’t believe what Angela was saying. Quit the Husband Project? We’d just started that weekend.
“Ang, are you kidding me? Why do you want to quit already?” There was no way things could be going downhill so quickly.
“I was talking to some of the other girls, and because we’re being so nice, our husbands are becoming suspicious. They think we’re all having affairs!”
Apparently, there’s a bigger need for the Husband Project than even I could have expected.
The Beginning of the Husband Project
At my busy church in San Jose, California, I serve in a variety of roles. Some of the roles I have played have been on the programming team with my husband, Roger, who is the director of the Worship Arts Ministry, leading Bible studies and small groups and taking meals to people who are sick or having babies. But my favorite role by far is mentoring women.
The girls I mentor are smart, funny, and committed to serving God. They really are amazing. However, like most wives I know, they have a tendency to “share” about their husbands.
“He’s never home. I feel like I’m single – but with an extra person to clean up after.”
“Why is it when he’s watching our kids it’s babysitting?”
“We used to be romantic, but now our idea of romance is reading take-out menus together.”
The “sharing” started to concern me. I wasn’t judging these girls; trust me. I found myself slipping every once in a while – saying something “endearing” about my husband while rolling my eyes.
A Change in Perspective
I know the importance of loving and honoring my husband, and like every other lesson in my life, I learned it the hard way. (Why can’t I ever learn things while eating chocolates and shopping…?)
I married in my early twenties’ with two babies came along shortly after the marriage vows. In retrospect, I can see that as soon as discovered the wonders of a Diaper Genie, my concentration shifted from my husband to the day-to-day care of my kids. With a full-time job thrown in, the goal of making my husband feel special dropped way down on my priority list.
After a very painful marriage and divorce, I am now remarried to an amazing guy. When new friends meet him they say, “Oh, so this is Prince Charming!” He’s a great father and step dad, and loves me and his God and indulges my passion for fat-free coconut yogurt on a regular basis. I really couldn’t ask for a better guy.
And, yet, like a great pair of comfortable flip flops, he’s sometimes easy to take him for granted. He’s always there - not demanding anything of me. He can fix his own frozen pizza when I am too busy to cook and can even wash his own socks in a pinch. When work deadlines loom and kids have dozens of activities, I sometimes let my relationship with Rog fall to sixth or seventh on my “Hey, pay attention to me!” list.
Have you noticed our culture has a one-way expectation that men should give women what they “need” (sending flowers to work, doing his share of the dirty work around the house, being a great dad, remembering and celebrating anniversaries) without asking for anything in return? But, as we know, this fantasy man isn’t real a husband, it’s a character in a dime store romance novel.
The kind of marriage I want is one in which we’re both doing all we can to honor and love each other, putting each other’s needs above our own.
Philippians 2:3-4 says it best: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
I want this for both of us. The reality is, however, I only have control over my own actions.
Enter the Husband Project
I tried different ideas with some of my friends at church – a variety of “husband encouragement programs.” Most seemed like a lot of work and not much fun. You see, I have the attention span of a third-grader who’s just spent six straight hours on X-Box. So I needed something short, doable and exciting. We, as stressed-out and over-worked wives and moms, don’t need to feel burdened by another line on our to-do lists.
So I started thinking and praying about what would truly make my husband feel loved (and maybe even lucky to be married to me.) I made up a list and began practicing on Roger. Some of the ideas (buying him a gift card to his favorite restaurant and surprising him with an impromptu date) were big hits. Others (like opening mystery clues for an all day adventure) were, let’s say, less than successful.
After several flops (hey, I thought the guys at his work would think that his lunch sack covered in hearts was adorable…) I finally got desperate. I asked him, “Okay, what would make you feel loved?” (And yes, I felt pretty pathetic to be asking.) After showing him the list, he gave me thumbs up or down on several of the items. I now had a much clearer plan in place. No, cookies in the shapes of bunnies were not necessary. Homemade raw cookie dough, however, was a big thumbs up. Yes, I asked the questions. I have gone where women fear to tread. I am in possession of the knowledge of what men (or at least my man) like.
This is how The Husband Project was born.
The premise is simple:
You, and two other friends (your accountability partners) commit to bless your husbands everyday for three weeks, in secret.
That’s it. Pretty simple, granted. But not always easy.
No Cookie-Cutter Marriages
While working on the Projects, I talked with friends of all ages, in very different marital situations.
Some of my friends were in the oh-so-romantic stage of marriage. You’re just done in by how beautifully he shaves. As you pick up his clothes from the bedroom floor, you just can’t help but giggle at how adorable it is that he never puts anything away.
On the other side of the spectrum, I have girlfriends who cannot stand to be in the same room with their husbands while they’re breathing. The “inhale, exhale” is enough to make them want to take up residence at a nice studio apartment in town.
And then, there are the other 94% of us.
We’re the ones who love our husbands but have fallen into a comfortable routine. (Comfortable often meaning, you don’t bug me and I won’t bug you.) We’re partners in parenting and contributors to financial matters. We’ve negotiated the household chores (I’ll do the dishes if you keep the car from making funny noises,) and keep each other on schedule for the dentist and the occasional oil change.
We like our husbands, for the most part. And they like us, for the most part. While this is okay, it’s definitely not what we were anticipating as we planned our weddings and dreamed about our happily-ever-after lives.
I have to admit, I’m writing this book for me and my friends – the 94% who want better relationships with our men and are willing to be creative, thoughtful, and possibly daring enough to break out some lingerie to get it.
“But He Doesn’t Even Notice”
Some women who have tried the Projects for a few days wondered if it’s even worth it. After doing several of the Projects, they complained that their husbands have barely noticed.
So, if you’re wearing your cute jeans to meet your husband in the evenings, leaving bags of gummi bears for him in his car, and wearing shorter and shorter lingerie to bed each night without comment from your man, don’t be discouraged.
Working The Husband Project is a lot like working on your prayer life. For example, I recently committed to setting aside a chunk of time daily to pray. As I devote more time to prayer and meditation, I’m realizing that my requests are less about asking God to make things go my way, and more about asking God to change my heart to follow Him and His plans for me.
This project is as much about changing our attitudes as it is about blessing our husbands. It’s great to get positive reinforcement, and when you do, write it down so you can remember it and tailor the way that you show your love in the future.
But even when your husband says nothing, you have the knowledge that you have actively shown him love and support. That’s the true gift of The Husband Project.
If you still need some affirmation (and who doesn’t?) look for it in other healthy places. In my case I have a friend, Lynn, who sends me a small gift whenever I complete a goal for writing. Even if I don’t sell an article, I still have the hope of some great Snoopy stickers in the mail.
Ask your accountability partners to celebrate your successes with you. Perhaps, if each of you does your daily project for seven days, you give each other a $5 Starbucks card, or if you do all 21 days, you all spend an afternoon together at the spa. Be creative, as it says in Hebrews 10:24, “And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds.” A grande latte could be an excellent way to start.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
The Wild Rose Press (January 16, 2009)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
In Robin's words:I am the Special Education Coordinator for Denton County Juvenile Justice Alternative Program. I work with at risk teens from fifth grade through high school. My husband and I have been married for thirty-one years and we have two grown children. The first two years of marriage, Rick and I traveled overseas as missionaries. Afterwards we served as pastors of a church in Illinois. Presently we live near Dallas, Texas. He is in business and I work for the school system. (My husband still makes yearly mission trips to India.)
To date, my literary works include approximately two hundred articles in magazines such as: Guideposts, Live, Lookout, Mennonite, Christian Reader, Decision, Breakthrough and Christianity Today. Other short stories appear in the books: A Match Made in Heaven, Stories from the Heart, The Evolving Woman, and the New York Times bestseller, In The Arms of Angels by Joan Wester-Anderson. Ann Spangler also used one of my stories in her book, Help! I Can’t Stop Laughing. Another two-dozen stories have been published in the Chicken Soup books. One story, Mom’s Last Laugh, was re-enacted for a PAX-TV program: It’s a Miracle. I co-authored a thriller, The Chase, for Revell. My second book, The Replacement, was released in June 2006. The Candidate was released July, 2007. I continue to publish short stories in magazines. Wildcard, a mystery, will be a spring 2009 release. The Christmas Edition released Nov. 20. The Valentine Edition released in January 2009.
Visit the author's shoutlife and website.
Product Details:
List Price: $12.99
Paperback: 248 pages
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press (January 16, 2009)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1601544847
ISBN-13: 978-1601544841
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
January 2
Jodi Williams sighed for the hundredth time as she waved goodbye to the Chicago skyline, catching the last of the city in her car’s rearview mirror. Dreams of working at The Tribune were dead right along with drinking green tea latte’s at Starbucks anytime she wanted.
Hope behind her.
The unknown ahead.
She steered toward Wisconsin. An hour later, Jodi looked out the window at the open fields of frozen ground and cows standing along snowy fences. The comparison between her two lives—the previous and the present—were startling.
Jodi attempted to shift her body in the seat but was pretty well anchored into the one position with her belongings crammed into the compact car from the trunk to the front. The turn-by-turn directions she had printed out were hard to follow since not all the roads were actually marked in this neck of the country. She decided to refer to them as mystery turns. Finally, Jodi pulled over to the shoulder and unfolded the road map to try to figure it out one more time. According to her calculations, she was almost there.
She looked around again and there it was, the Welcome to Turtle Creek sign, less than five feet ahead. Snickering at herself, she put her car back in drive, turned on her signal and pulled back onto the road. Soon she passed Ma’s Diner on the left and zoomed past one block of storefronts realizing that was all there was of town. “It’s worse than I imagined.”
Watching for the turn that would take her directly to the newspaper, she nearly missed seeing the small-bedraggled dog that darted out right in front of her. Startled, Jodi swerved and hit her brakes as her heart palpitated hard in her chest. It was a foolhardy maneuver that nearly landed her in the ditch but she felt it was worth the risk since she didn’t feel or hear a thud against the tires. After she came to a complete stop, Jodi peered over her steering wheel. She frantically looked to her left and right. The dog wasn’t in sight. She had to find the little thing. It was unsafe for it to be running around loose like this. What kind of people let a little dog roam free anyway? Jodi caught her negative thought and softened. Maybe the dog was lost and the family was searching at this very moment.
Jodi checked both lanes of traffic. Then she pulled up hard on the door handle, swiveled in her seat and set both feet on the ice. Gingerly stepping out to search for the animal, she was thankful no vehicle appeared from either direction. She walked around the car feeling the snow and ice seep into her leather shoes.
She finally found what she was looking for; the dog sat shivering under a bush. Fearful-looking eyes studied her approach. With matted hair and sad eyes, it looked unloved and unwanted, pulling at her heart.
“Hey there little one,” Jodi bent down. “Don’t be afraid. Let me help you.” When she held out her hand, the dog took off like a rocket, past her and right for the road. From a blanket of snowy air, a car appeared. It careened down the road traveling much too fast for the conditions. Jodi frantically called to the dog, “Come to me, come to me!” But instead of obeying, it sat down. “Now is no time to be stubborn!”
Jodi couldn’t watch. She shut her eyes and turned away from the awful sound of squealing brakes, the thump of the dog and the whimper. When she opened her eyes, she saw the poor thing lying still on its side. Jodi ran to it as the angry driver rolled down his window and yelled, “Watch your dog!”
“Watch where you’re going!” Jodi shot back and ignored him as he drove off. Without thinking about the cold or the possibility of being bitten, Jodi yanked off her coat and carefully placed it around the injured animal. “It’s all right; I’m just trying to help you. It’s okay.”
Gingerly, she held the dog just as a pickup truck came rolling toward them. Oh, no, not again. The road was too icy for her to get out of its way in time. She gripped the dog to her chest, said a prayer and hoped for the best. The tires splashed icy muck on her skirt. To her surprise, the driver was able to slow and come to a complete stop within inches of her frame. On the side of the truck was written Veterinarian Clinic Turtle Creek, Wisconsin—Josh Thomas.
“Is everything okay?” The man inside rolled down his window.
“No, everything is just terrible. The dog was hit.” Jodi started to cry.
“I’ll help.” He checked his side mirrors before parking on the shoulder of the road and then got out of the truck. Jodi noticed the man was her extreme opposite. He stood at least six foot two, weighed about two-fifty, where she was only a couple of inches over five feet and half his weight. His hair was the kind a woman longed to run her fingers through—thick, black and straight.
Wind blew snow into Jodi’s face. She rubbed her eyes and then brushed her curly auburn hair from
her face, making sure the kind stranger wasn’t an illusion.
After grabbing a mid-sized crate from the back of his truck, he walked over to where Jodi stood shivering in the cold wind holding her bundle. “Let’s get the dog to my clinic. Do you want to put it in the crate, or should I?”
“I’ll do it.” Feeling protective now, Jodi put the dog inside, leaving it wrapped in her coat. Doing a double take, he asked, “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Josh Thomas. Are you all right?”
He touched her shoulder. It felt reassuring and made her cry harder knowing someone was here to handle the situation. All she managed was a nod. He patted her again. “Follow me.” Josh opened the passenger side and placed the crate on the truck seat. “Hopefully your little pal will be just fine. I’ll do my best so he’ll be home with you in no time.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not my dog. I only stopped to help,” she explained, walking toward the truck.
Josh turned toward Jodi and gave her an appreciative smile. “So you’re the one? It’s nice to finally meet you. I heard about you in church on Sunday.”
“Me? On Sunday?” Her eyes widened.
“Yea you. We learned about the Good Samaritan. Let me shake your hand.”
Josh was totally disarming and made Jodi smile for the first time that day. When she took his hand, it felt strong and capable. She looked into his eyes where a collection of amber colors seemed to swirl together. “I’m Jodi Williams. I was trying to get the dog out of the road when he was hit. The driver didn’t stop to help.”
“I was on my way back from a farm call and in my daydreaming missed my turn to the clinic. Guess it was a good thing.” Josh explained as he climbed into his truck. “Don’t worry I’ll take it from here. Thanks again, Miss Good Samaritan.”
“Wait. Let me come with you.” Jodi looked at her car and again at Josh.
“Sure, just follow me. Back your car around and pull in behind me. I’ll wait for you.”
“Okay.” Jodi nodded to him as she opened her car door. Just as she scooted onto the driver’s seat a blast of wind slammed the door on her. Freezing to the bone, she cranked up the heater full blast. Then she turned on her wipers to move the snow off her windshield. Jodi found a safe place to turn around, and in no time, she was following Josh’s truck. A few turns later, they arrived at the veterinary clinic. The large sign read Thomas Veterinary Clinic and Animal Rescue. It seemed like an appropriate name since she and the dog had both been on the receiving end of that rescue. Jodi followed Josh into the building.
A pretty blonde-headed woman wearing brightly colored scrubs printed with playful dogs and cats, sat at the desk. “What do you have in there?” She looked at the small crate.
“An injured dog, hit on County O.” Josh turned to Jodi. “This is my secretary, Della Wheat. Della, this is Ms. Williams.”
“Jodi,” she corrected, hardly noticing Della. Her eyes remained fixed on the dog.
“Just fill out a card for me.” Della placed it on the counter along with a pen.
“She was trying to rescue the stray when it was hit,” Josh explained. “We don’t need the information.”
“I’d still like to fill out the card.” Jodi picked up the pen. Not knowing where she’d be staying yet, she only wrote her name and cell phone number. She put the pen back down and asked Josh, “Would it be all
right for me to go into the examination room with you?”
Josh shrugged. “Sure enough. Keep following me.”
They entered a brightly lit and predictably spotless small room. An aroma from the cleaning disinfectant was evident. They faced each other on opposite sides of the stainless steel examination table. Josh placed the crate on the table and slowly pulled out the dog on Jodi’s bloody coat.
“Hi, there, little guy. Will you let me see how you are doing?” Josh parted the folds of the coat and then lifted the dog out. It whimpered but didn’t try to snap.
Jodi removed her coat from the table. Josh kept looking up at her and down at the dog again. “You seem pretty shook up. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“That’s good to know. I thought you might need a doctor yourself, for a minute there.” Josh chuckled.
She took her first long look at him. Great smile that was burned into her memory from their first encounter on the road, but now she saw he was also quite handsome. What attracted her was his obvious tender spirit reflected in his soft eyes. She didn’t even know him but he suddenly made an imprint on her heart. The way he looked at her made Jodi wonder if he felt it, too.
The door to the examination room popped open. “Do you need my help, Doctor?” Della stood in the doorway.
“Sure, come on in.”
Della entered and began her work while lightly humming. She seemed like the kind of gal who was always humming even when she did things that should be done in silence, like calming animal nerves or cleaning up messes. At least that was how Jodi imagined her to be.
Jodi watched as Josh gently turned the dog on its side and stroked its head, talking low and soft, trying to bring comfort to it. Della quickly stepped in to hold the dog, making Jodi move back out of their way. The room was cramped with all them in it, so she moved to the corner to watch.
“The dog has some pretty bad abrasions, but I don’t see anything that would require sutures. It looks like he’s a little neutered male, so someone once cared for him.” Josh tilted back the dog’s head and parted his jaws to have a good look inside. “And he’s no older than two years.”
The animal held his left hind leg tight up against his body. When Josh gently tried to straighten it, the dog yelped in pain and then licked Josh’s hand. Josh responded immediately by stroking its head. “Ah, I guess the leg is probably broken. We won’t know how badly until I get an x-ray of it.” Josh felt along the side of the animal and examined each leg. “In fact, I want to get several x-rays on him to see what else we’re dealing with here.”
“I’ll get everything ready,” Della hummed. Jodi glanced discreetly at the wall clock. She was late for her first day at her new job. “I have to leave, but my cell number is at the front desk. Will you call me later? I’d like to know how he does.”
“Of course I will.” Josh smiled again. It was enough to make her want to stay right here with the dog and with Josh, but then Della opened the door for her and took the dog to the back.
Jodi walked from the room as she took a good look at her coat. It was stained with blood and her clothes had muck on them.
“There’s a dry cleaner about five miles from here.”
“No good. I’m starting my job at The Turtle Creek Newspaper today, and I can’t go in like this. I’m not sure what to do since I’m already pretty late.” Jodi fretted as she folded her coat over one arm.
Josh took a jacket from one of the wall hooks.
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but at least it’s clean. Here.” He held out the dark green jacket. Jodi managed with much self-restraint not to roll her eyes. The truth was she didn’t want to wear it, but under the circumstances, in near-zero-degree temperature, she didn’t have much choice. Besides it was clean and Josh was sweet to offer it. When she slipped into it, the coat nearly swallowed up her small frame. She pulled the right side over the left and laughed when it nearly went all the way around her back. The way Josh looked at her made her blush.
“It’ll keep you warm,” he said.
Della walked back into the room. She frowned. The humming came to a stop. “Why is she wearing that?”
Jodi noticed the young woman’s displeasure. It made her feel silly. “She’s right, I can’t take this.”
“Wear it. It’ll do in a blizzard.”
Jodi looked out the window at the snow coming heavier now. The wind seemed stronger. “The weather is getting worse. If I take this, what’ll you wear?”
“There’s another jacket in my truck.”
“Please be sure to call and let me know how that sweet little guy is doing, okay?”
“Will do,” Josh promised. “He sure is a little cherub.”
Jodi reluctantly put on the jacket, hesitating before heading out to her car.
****
Twenty-year-old Della Wheat held up her hand and sweetly waved goodbye to Jodi. Then she turned to Josh. “She seems nice.”
“Yep, that she is.” He walked to the windows and watched as she got into her car and drove off. He was quiet a minute and then turned to Della.
“While I get those x-rays taken, I need you to start on the invoices. They’re on your desk. I’d like them in the mail by the end of the work day.” Josh started toward the back.
“Sure thing, as soon as I organize the waiting room. You know how I am about messiness,” Della answered as she began her daily routine with military preciseness. She fanned out the magazines into attractive sections, then swept the floor and finished off her housekeeping with a bit of dusting.
Once the fish were fed, she straightened her desk. It was then she noticed something on the counter of her well-ordered room. Calmly, Della picked up the white card and read Jodi Williams’ contact information. Cute, she was the kind who marked a line through each of her sevens and wrote her name in fancy, curly script. Della smiled and hummed happily as she walked over to the shredder and buzzed the piece of paper right through it. Jodi Williams disappeared.
“All gone.” Della wiped her hands together.
Now that this new woman was out of Josh’s life, Della was ready to get to work. She went around her desk and sat down. From the top drawer, she took out the container of paper clips, the small bag of rubber bands, the handful of pens and removed a folder. Underneath all of that was a picture of Josh and her at last year’s Christmas party at the church. She caressed his face with her finger. Then she picked up a black marker with a thin point and used it to carefully write across the bottom, You’re the only woman for me. All my love, Josh. It made Della smile. Then she shut the folder and returned it to the desk, placing the office supplies back on top. Within the hour, a CLOSED sign was placed in the door of the clinic. Della assisted Josh in surgery.
She watched every move he made. Della had a hard time keeping her mind on what they were doing. She kept looking over at Josh, hoping he’d see her and give her one of those great big smiles of his. He didn’t smile, didn’t even give her a look. All his concern went to the animal he was working on. He was devoted. He would smile at her later. That was her affirmation.
“Isn’t he a sweet little thing?” Della commented on the dog, needing attention from Josh.
“He sure was lucky to come out of it with just one fracture and a few abrasions. I think the good Lord was smiling down on you today,” he told the sedated mutt. “Della, while I pin the leg, steady it for me by holding the bones together just so.” Josh demonstrated.
Della followed his instructions.
“Once surgery is over, I’ll attach the rigid bar on the cast. Within a day or two, he should be using that leg just fine,” Josh murmured.
“You inspire me.” Della’s hand brushed his as she took over positioning the leg. It made her heart race.
“Just doing my job.” Perspiration gathered along Josh’s brow. In a few minutes, he had accomplished stabilizing the leg. “Good. You did well. You both did.” He looked at Della and gave her a smile.
There it was! Her affirmation! It came true, washing over her heart; she nearly fainted from happiness, but remained vertical and stared down at the dog’s leg that Josh was closing.
“That should do it.” Josh laid his instruments to the side and looked at the dog one more time. “I’ll give Jodi a call. She’ll want to know how the dog is doing.”
“I’ll do that for you,” Della insisted.
“No, I’ll do it myself as soon as the dog is fully awake and eats something.” Josh carried the animal to a prepared kennel and laid him on a heating pad. Della’s heart palpitated with fear and self-doubt. Deep breaths, she told herself. It was time to listen to her affirmation tapes. Della returned to the waiting room, unlocked the door and put the Open sign back in the window. At her desk, she slid her earphones on and popped the next CD in her player. She pressed play. She moved her lips along with the words on the tape, “I am focused on finding love. I have found love. That is all that matters. I am having fun.”
Her headphones were suddenly lifted off her head as her hair caught in the earpiece. “Ouch!” She turned around. It was her love. “Josh, what are you doing?”
“Are you listening to those silly tapes again? There are messages that need to be answered. Don’t you see the blinking light?”
“Sorry.” Della’s face blushed.
“Also get Jodi’s number for me, please.”
“Uhm….” Della watched her love leave the room.
If there was ever a time she needed to listen to her tapes, it was now. However, she would do as Josh asked and put them away. She’d write out her affirmation instead. With a pen in hand, she began; I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I believe Josh will ask me to marry him. I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I will make it happen. I believe in the power of me.
Jodi Williams sighed for the hundredth time as she waved goodbye to the Chicago skyline, catching the last of the city in her car’s rearview mirror. Dreams of working at The Tribune were dead right along with drinking green tea latte’s at Starbucks anytime she wanted.
Hope behind her.
The unknown ahead.
She steered toward Wisconsin. An hour later, Jodi looked out the window at the open fields of frozen ground and cows standing along snowy fences. The comparison between her two lives—the previous and the present—were startling.
Jodi attempted to shift her body in the seat but was pretty well anchored into the one position with her belongings crammed into the compact car from the trunk to the front. The turn-by-turn directions she had printed out were hard to follow since not all the roads were actually marked in this neck of the country. She decided to refer to them as mystery turns. Finally, Jodi pulled over to the shoulder and unfolded the road map to try to figure it out one more time. According to her calculations, she was almost there.
She looked around again and there it was, the Welcome to Turtle Creek sign, less than five feet ahead. Snickering at herself, she put her car back in drive, turned on her signal and pulled back onto the road. Soon she passed Ma’s Diner on the left and zoomed past one block of storefronts realizing that was all there was of town. “It’s worse than I imagined.”
Watching for the turn that would take her directly to the newspaper, she nearly missed seeing the small-bedraggled dog that darted out right in front of her. Startled, Jodi swerved and hit her brakes as her heart palpitated hard in her chest. It was a foolhardy maneuver that nearly landed her in the ditch but she felt it was worth the risk since she didn’t feel or hear a thud against the tires. After she came to a complete stop, Jodi peered over her steering wheel. She frantically looked to her left and right. The dog wasn’t in sight. She had to find the little thing. It was unsafe for it to be running around loose like this. What kind of people let a little dog roam free anyway? Jodi caught her negative thought and softened. Maybe the dog was lost and the family was searching at this very moment.
Jodi checked both lanes of traffic. Then she pulled up hard on the door handle, swiveled in her seat and set both feet on the ice. Gingerly stepping out to search for the animal, she was thankful no vehicle appeared from either direction. She walked around the car feeling the snow and ice seep into her leather shoes.
She finally found what she was looking for; the dog sat shivering under a bush. Fearful-looking eyes studied her approach. With matted hair and sad eyes, it looked unloved and unwanted, pulling at her heart.
“Hey there little one,” Jodi bent down. “Don’t be afraid. Let me help you.” When she held out her hand, the dog took off like a rocket, past her and right for the road. From a blanket of snowy air, a car appeared. It careened down the road traveling much too fast for the conditions. Jodi frantically called to the dog, “Come to me, come to me!” But instead of obeying, it sat down. “Now is no time to be stubborn!”
Jodi couldn’t watch. She shut her eyes and turned away from the awful sound of squealing brakes, the thump of the dog and the whimper. When she opened her eyes, she saw the poor thing lying still on its side. Jodi ran to it as the angry driver rolled down his window and yelled, “Watch your dog!”
“Watch where you’re going!” Jodi shot back and ignored him as he drove off. Without thinking about the cold or the possibility of being bitten, Jodi yanked off her coat and carefully placed it around the injured animal. “It’s all right; I’m just trying to help you. It’s okay.”
Gingerly, she held the dog just as a pickup truck came rolling toward them. Oh, no, not again. The road was too icy for her to get out of its way in time. She gripped the dog to her chest, said a prayer and hoped for the best. The tires splashed icy muck on her skirt. To her surprise, the driver was able to slow and come to a complete stop within inches of her frame. On the side of the truck was written Veterinarian Clinic Turtle Creek, Wisconsin—Josh Thomas.
“Is everything okay?” The man inside rolled down his window.
“No, everything is just terrible. The dog was hit.” Jodi started to cry.
“I’ll help.” He checked his side mirrors before parking on the shoulder of the road and then got out of the truck. Jodi noticed the man was her extreme opposite. He stood at least six foot two, weighed about two-fifty, where she was only a couple of inches over five feet and half his weight. His hair was the kind a woman longed to run her fingers through—thick, black and straight.
Wind blew snow into Jodi’s face. She rubbed her eyes and then brushed her curly auburn hair from
her face, making sure the kind stranger wasn’t an illusion.
After grabbing a mid-sized crate from the back of his truck, he walked over to where Jodi stood shivering in the cold wind holding her bundle. “Let’s get the dog to my clinic. Do you want to put it in the crate, or should I?”
“I’ll do it.” Feeling protective now, Jodi put the dog inside, leaving it wrapped in her coat. Doing a double take, he asked, “I guess I should introduce myself. I’m Josh Thomas. Are you all right?”
He touched her shoulder. It felt reassuring and made her cry harder knowing someone was here to handle the situation. All she managed was a nod. He patted her again. “Follow me.” Josh opened the passenger side and placed the crate on the truck seat. “Hopefully your little pal will be just fine. I’ll do my best so he’ll be home with you in no time.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s not my dog. I only stopped to help,” she explained, walking toward the truck.
Josh turned toward Jodi and gave her an appreciative smile. “So you’re the one? It’s nice to finally meet you. I heard about you in church on Sunday.”
“Me? On Sunday?” Her eyes widened.
“Yea you. We learned about the Good Samaritan. Let me shake your hand.”
Josh was totally disarming and made Jodi smile for the first time that day. When she took his hand, it felt strong and capable. She looked into his eyes where a collection of amber colors seemed to swirl together. “I’m Jodi Williams. I was trying to get the dog out of the road when he was hit. The driver didn’t stop to help.”
“I was on my way back from a farm call and in my daydreaming missed my turn to the clinic. Guess it was a good thing.” Josh explained as he climbed into his truck. “Don’t worry I’ll take it from here. Thanks again, Miss Good Samaritan.”
“Wait. Let me come with you.” Jodi looked at her car and again at Josh.
“Sure, just follow me. Back your car around and pull in behind me. I’ll wait for you.”
“Okay.” Jodi nodded to him as she opened her car door. Just as she scooted onto the driver’s seat a blast of wind slammed the door on her. Freezing to the bone, she cranked up the heater full blast. Then she turned on her wipers to move the snow off her windshield. Jodi found a safe place to turn around, and in no time, she was following Josh’s truck. A few turns later, they arrived at the veterinary clinic. The large sign read Thomas Veterinary Clinic and Animal Rescue. It seemed like an appropriate name since she and the dog had both been on the receiving end of that rescue. Jodi followed Josh into the building.
A pretty blonde-headed woman wearing brightly colored scrubs printed with playful dogs and cats, sat at the desk. “What do you have in there?” She looked at the small crate.
“An injured dog, hit on County O.” Josh turned to Jodi. “This is my secretary, Della Wheat. Della, this is Ms. Williams.”
“Jodi,” she corrected, hardly noticing Della. Her eyes remained fixed on the dog.
“Just fill out a card for me.” Della placed it on the counter along with a pen.
“She was trying to rescue the stray when it was hit,” Josh explained. “We don’t need the information.”
“I’d still like to fill out the card.” Jodi picked up the pen. Not knowing where she’d be staying yet, she only wrote her name and cell phone number. She put the pen back down and asked Josh, “Would it be all
right for me to go into the examination room with you?”
Josh shrugged. “Sure enough. Keep following me.”
They entered a brightly lit and predictably spotless small room. An aroma from the cleaning disinfectant was evident. They faced each other on opposite sides of the stainless steel examination table. Josh placed the crate on the table and slowly pulled out the dog on Jodi’s bloody coat.
“Hi, there, little guy. Will you let me see how you are doing?” Josh parted the folds of the coat and then lifted the dog out. It whimpered but didn’t try to snap.
Jodi removed her coat from the table. Josh kept looking up at her and down at the dog again. “You seem pretty shook up. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“That’s good to know. I thought you might need a doctor yourself, for a minute there.” Josh chuckled.
She took her first long look at him. Great smile that was burned into her memory from their first encounter on the road, but now she saw he was also quite handsome. What attracted her was his obvious tender spirit reflected in his soft eyes. She didn’t even know him but he suddenly made an imprint on her heart. The way he looked at her made Jodi wonder if he felt it, too.
The door to the examination room popped open. “Do you need my help, Doctor?” Della stood in the doorway.
“Sure, come on in.”
Della entered and began her work while lightly humming. She seemed like the kind of gal who was always humming even when she did things that should be done in silence, like calming animal nerves or cleaning up messes. At least that was how Jodi imagined her to be.
Jodi watched as Josh gently turned the dog on its side and stroked its head, talking low and soft, trying to bring comfort to it. Della quickly stepped in to hold the dog, making Jodi move back out of their way. The room was cramped with all them in it, so she moved to the corner to watch.
“The dog has some pretty bad abrasions, but I don’t see anything that would require sutures. It looks like he’s a little neutered male, so someone once cared for him.” Josh tilted back the dog’s head and parted his jaws to have a good look inside. “And he’s no older than two years.”
The animal held his left hind leg tight up against his body. When Josh gently tried to straighten it, the dog yelped in pain and then licked Josh’s hand. Josh responded immediately by stroking its head. “Ah, I guess the leg is probably broken. We won’t know how badly until I get an x-ray of it.” Josh felt along the side of the animal and examined each leg. “In fact, I want to get several x-rays on him to see what else we’re dealing with here.”
“I’ll get everything ready,” Della hummed. Jodi glanced discreetly at the wall clock. She was late for her first day at her new job. “I have to leave, but my cell number is at the front desk. Will you call me later? I’d like to know how he does.”
“Of course I will.” Josh smiled again. It was enough to make her want to stay right here with the dog and with Josh, but then Della opened the door for her and took the dog to the back.
Jodi walked from the room as she took a good look at her coat. It was stained with blood and her clothes had muck on them.
“There’s a dry cleaner about five miles from here.”
“No good. I’m starting my job at The Turtle Creek Newspaper today, and I can’t go in like this. I’m not sure what to do since I’m already pretty late.” Jodi fretted as she folded her coat over one arm.
Josh took a jacket from one of the wall hooks.
“I know it doesn’t look like much, but at least it’s clean. Here.” He held out the dark green jacket. Jodi managed with much self-restraint not to roll her eyes. The truth was she didn’t want to wear it, but under the circumstances, in near-zero-degree temperature, she didn’t have much choice. Besides it was clean and Josh was sweet to offer it. When she slipped into it, the coat nearly swallowed up her small frame. She pulled the right side over the left and laughed when it nearly went all the way around her back. The way Josh looked at her made her blush.
“It’ll keep you warm,” he said.
Della walked back into the room. She frowned. The humming came to a stop. “Why is she wearing that?”
Jodi noticed the young woman’s displeasure. It made her feel silly. “She’s right, I can’t take this.”
“Wear it. It’ll do in a blizzard.”
Jodi looked out the window at the snow coming heavier now. The wind seemed stronger. “The weather is getting worse. If I take this, what’ll you wear?”
“There’s another jacket in my truck.”
“Please be sure to call and let me know how that sweet little guy is doing, okay?”
“Will do,” Josh promised. “He sure is a little cherub.”
Jodi reluctantly put on the jacket, hesitating before heading out to her car.
****
Twenty-year-old Della Wheat held up her hand and sweetly waved goodbye to Jodi. Then she turned to Josh. “She seems nice.”
“Yep, that she is.” He walked to the windows and watched as she got into her car and drove off. He was quiet a minute and then turned to Della.
“While I get those x-rays taken, I need you to start on the invoices. They’re on your desk. I’d like them in the mail by the end of the work day.” Josh started toward the back.
“Sure thing, as soon as I organize the waiting room. You know how I am about messiness,” Della answered as she began her daily routine with military preciseness. She fanned out the magazines into attractive sections, then swept the floor and finished off her housekeeping with a bit of dusting.
Once the fish were fed, she straightened her desk. It was then she noticed something on the counter of her well-ordered room. Calmly, Della picked up the white card and read Jodi Williams’ contact information. Cute, she was the kind who marked a line through each of her sevens and wrote her name in fancy, curly script. Della smiled and hummed happily as she walked over to the shredder and buzzed the piece of paper right through it. Jodi Williams disappeared.
“All gone.” Della wiped her hands together.
Now that this new woman was out of Josh’s life, Della was ready to get to work. She went around her desk and sat down. From the top drawer, she took out the container of paper clips, the small bag of rubber bands, the handful of pens and removed a folder. Underneath all of that was a picture of Josh and her at last year’s Christmas party at the church. She caressed his face with her finger. Then she picked up a black marker with a thin point and used it to carefully write across the bottom, You’re the only woman for me. All my love, Josh. It made Della smile. Then she shut the folder and returned it to the desk, placing the office supplies back on top. Within the hour, a CLOSED sign was placed in the door of the clinic. Della assisted Josh in surgery.
She watched every move he made. Della had a hard time keeping her mind on what they were doing. She kept looking over at Josh, hoping he’d see her and give her one of those great big smiles of his. He didn’t smile, didn’t even give her a look. All his concern went to the animal he was working on. He was devoted. He would smile at her later. That was her affirmation.
“Isn’t he a sweet little thing?” Della commented on the dog, needing attention from Josh.
“He sure was lucky to come out of it with just one fracture and a few abrasions. I think the good Lord was smiling down on you today,” he told the sedated mutt. “Della, while I pin the leg, steady it for me by holding the bones together just so.” Josh demonstrated.
Della followed his instructions.
“Once surgery is over, I’ll attach the rigid bar on the cast. Within a day or two, he should be using that leg just fine,” Josh murmured.
“You inspire me.” Della’s hand brushed his as she took over positioning the leg. It made her heart race.
“Just doing my job.” Perspiration gathered along Josh’s brow. In a few minutes, he had accomplished stabilizing the leg. “Good. You did well. You both did.” He looked at Della and gave her a smile.
There it was! Her affirmation! It came true, washing over her heart; she nearly fainted from happiness, but remained vertical and stared down at the dog’s leg that Josh was closing.
“That should do it.” Josh laid his instruments to the side and looked at the dog one more time. “I’ll give Jodi a call. She’ll want to know how the dog is doing.”
“I’ll do that for you,” Della insisted.
“No, I’ll do it myself as soon as the dog is fully awake and eats something.” Josh carried the animal to a prepared kennel and laid him on a heating pad. Della’s heart palpitated with fear and self-doubt. Deep breaths, she told herself. It was time to listen to her affirmation tapes. Della returned to the waiting room, unlocked the door and put the Open sign back in the window. At her desk, she slid her earphones on and popped the next CD in her player. She pressed play. She moved her lips along with the words on the tape, “I am focused on finding love. I have found love. That is all that matters. I am having fun.”
Her headphones were suddenly lifted off her head as her hair caught in the earpiece. “Ouch!” She turned around. It was her love. “Josh, what are you doing?”
“Are you listening to those silly tapes again? There are messages that need to be answered. Don’t you see the blinking light?”
“Sorry.” Della’s face blushed.
“Also get Jodi’s number for me, please.”
“Uhm….” Della watched her love leave the room.
If there was ever a time she needed to listen to her tapes, it was now. However, she would do as Josh asked and put them away. She’d write out her affirmation instead. With a pen in hand, she began; I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I believe Josh will ask me to marry him. I believe in myself. I believe in the power of love. I believe Josh loves me. I believe Josh and I are destined to be together. I will make it happen. I believe in the power of me.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Let Someone Else Praise You
...and not you yourself.
This is what we learn from scripture, and today I am thanking Caroline, a writer, for posting about my book, BEFORE THE SEASON ENDS, on her blog, by copying her post here.
Just remember, these are not my words!! (It isn't my style to thumb my nose at anything. I don't think. lol)
Here's the post, from Sunnybank Meanderings earlier today: Caroline says,
"I Promised You . . ."
"Did you read the interview with Linore Rose Burkard I posted? Did you get her book?
Well, here are some reasons I like her writing:
* She thumbs her nose (my wording) at the rules. What I mean is, she uses omniscient viewpoint liberally in her book and does it well. That is a no-no in the CBA writing world. At least for most people. You've got to be "big" to get away with it. You've got to know what you're doing.
* Her characters are real. When you read her book, you can see Charles and Julie Forsythe--the parents--and their concern for their still unmarried (and her "fanciful notions") daughter. You can see Ariana in all her youthful escapades and Mr. Mornay in his delightful (to the readers) boredom with society and his disdain of all the fawning mothers with eligble daughters. Aunt Bentley and her determination to do the "right" thing even when its a bother, adds flavor to the whole book.
* Too, Linore uses authentic descriptions and words that carry you straight back to the regency period.
A new author, look for "Before the Season Ends" from Harvest House. You'll not be sorry if you like good historicals."
Thank you, Caroline!
This is what we learn from scripture, and today I am thanking Caroline, a writer, for posting about my book, BEFORE THE SEASON ENDS, on her blog, by copying her post here.
Just remember, these are not my words!! (It isn't my style to thumb my nose at anything. I don't think. lol)
Here's the post, from Sunnybank Meanderings earlier today: Caroline says,
"I Promised You . . ."
"Did you read the interview with Linore Rose Burkard I posted? Did you get her book?
Well, here are some reasons I like her writing:
* She thumbs her nose (my wording) at the rules. What I mean is, she uses omniscient viewpoint liberally in her book and does it well. That is a no-no in the CBA writing world. At least for most people. You've got to be "big" to get away with it. You've got to know what you're doing.
* Her characters are real. When you read her book, you can see Charles and Julie Forsythe--the parents--and their concern for their still unmarried (and her "fanciful notions") daughter. You can see Ariana in all her youthful escapades and Mr. Mornay in his delightful (to the readers) boredom with society and his disdain of all the fawning mothers with eligble daughters. Aunt Bentley and her determination to do the "right" thing even when its a bother, adds flavor to the whole book.
* Too, Linore uses authentic descriptions and words that carry you straight back to the regency period.
A new author, look for "Before the Season Ends" from Harvest House. You'll not be sorry if you like good historicals."
Thank you, Caroline!
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Today's Non-Fiction Post is because every Feisty Female Character is Concerned with Weight!
It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour book review! We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! Enjoy your free peek into the book!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Chantel Hobbs is a personal trainer, certified spinning instructor, and motivational speaker whose no-excuses approach to fitness has won her a grateful following across the country. The author of Never Say Diet, Chantel hosts a weekly fitness program on Reach FM radio and is a regular guest on Way FM. Her “Ditch the Diet, Do the Weekend” bootcamp takes place several times a year in a variety of locations. She has presented her unique approach to lasting fitness in People magazine and on Oprah, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Fox News, The 700 Club, Living the Life, and Paula White Today. Chantel enjoys life with her husband and their four children in South Florida.
Visit the author's website.
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTERs:
Never Say Diet Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press; Reprint edition (December 16, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307444937
ISBN-13: 978-0307444936
Never Say Diet Personal Trainer Product Details:
List Price: $10.99
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (December 16, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307446425
ISBN-13: 978-0307446428
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the books:
WaterBrook Press; Reprint edition (December 16, 2008)
and
The Never Say Diet Personal Fitness Trainer
WaterBrook Press (December 16, 2008)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Chantel Hobbs is a personal trainer, certified spinning instructor, and motivational speaker whose no-excuses approach to fitness has won her a grateful following across the country. The author of Never Say Diet, Chantel hosts a weekly fitness program on Reach FM radio and is a regular guest on Way FM. Her “Ditch the Diet, Do the Weekend” bootcamp takes place several times a year in a variety of locations. She has presented her unique approach to lasting fitness in People magazine and on Oprah, The Today Show, Good Morning America, Fox News, The 700 Club, Living the Life, and Paula White Today. Chantel enjoys life with her husband and their four children in South Florida.Visit the author's website.
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTERs:
Never Say Diet Product Details:
List Price: $13.99
Paperback: 240 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press; Reprint edition (December 16, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307444937
ISBN-13: 978-0307444936
The Night That
Changed My Life
How to Choose
to Do the Best
Job of Living
It should have been a scene of American family bliss. A Sunday afternoon in our home on a beautiful fall day in South Florida. My husband, Keith, was watching the Dolphins game in the living room with some friends. He’d waited all week for this. Our girls, six-year-old Ashley and four-year-old Kayla, were helping me in the kitchen. Well, kind of. Our six month-old, Jake, was jumping and laughing in his Jolly Jumper. I was baking Vanishing Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, our favorite, and everybody could smell the cinnamon and butter and couldn’t wait for the cookies to come out of the oven. Especially me. As I worked in the kitchen, I could hear the football game coming from the living room. The announcers were talking about a player who had arrived at training camp completely out of shape. He was six foot four and weighed 320 pounds. “That is a big boy,” they said. “Wow! He is huge.” “Would you look at that guy,” I heard my husband say with disgust. “I can’t believe he got so fat! What a lazy bum.” Those words cut me to the heart. I had created a happy home, with a
happy husband and happy kids. But at that moment I wanted to die, because I outweighed that player by at least 10 pounds. I was bigger than anyone playing for the Miami Dolphins. And I knew I was anything but lazy. I pulled the cookies out of the oven and felt nauseous. I was pathetic. I’d been overweight my entire adult life, but I was bigger than I had ever been. I was miserable but doing an excellent job of faking out everyone who knew me. I was five foot nine and weighed 330 pounds, maybe more. I didn’t know for sure because it had been months since I’d dared to step on a scale. Besides, the only one in the house was a conveniently inaccurate discount-store model with a wheel underneath that calibrated the scale. I had adjusted it to register the lowest weight possible. I was in denial, but I was also without hope. It was the autumn of 2000. I was twenty-eight years old and was starting to believe I would never live a long and fulfilled life. Not this way. If an angel had landed on my shoulder and whispered in my ear that, in less than two years, Oprah Winfrey would have me on her show to tell a feel good weight-loss story, I’d have sent that angel packing and gone back to my cookies. I wasn’t Oprah material. And there was absolutely nothing feel-good about my life. Call me when you want a feel-bad story. That was me. If that angel had whispered that I would one day run a marathon, I’d have checked him in to an insane asylum. I couldn’t run around the block. Even in high school I hadn’t been able to run the required twenty-minute mile. My knees hurt all the time. I was morbidly obese—a term that I knew meant an early death. If one thing was clear about my life in the fall of 2000, it was that
I could never, ever run a marathon. But I did. I finished my first one in 2005 and after that ran four more— in less than a year. I went from weighing nearly 350 pounds to less than 150 pounds. And I have appeared on Oprah and Good Morning America and the cover of People magazine as one of America’s great weight-loss successes. Getting fit wasn’t easy—there was plenty of pain, deprivation, tears, and hungeralong the way. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I won’t try to sugarcoat any of that. But, honestly, I didn’t give myself a choice. Once I made the unconditional decision that I was going to lose weight and get healthy, nothing could stop me. And nothing will stop you if you make the Five Decisions to break the fat habit for good. That’s a guarantee. Here is the secret I learned—the same secret I want to share with you. I realized I had to change my mind before I could change my body, my health, and my life. I discovered the Five Decisions, which brought about an unconditional commitment to getting healthy and fit. Once I started, I treated it like a job so that no matter what else was going on in my life, I did what I had to do to achieve daily goals, weekly goals, monthly goals, and eventually the target weight and fitness that I desired. After making the Five Decisions, getting fit was a matter of showing up for work each day. The process developed from the inside out, which was a new concept for me.
FIRST, YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND
People constantly ask me how I lost 200 pounds and started running marathons. When I explain that it took several years to achieve those goals, they wonder how I was able to stick to the plan when so many others can’t. I ask myself the same question. I had failed plenty of times before. I’d tried a few diets and failed, including a bit of foolishness called the chocolate-wafer diet, which I’ll tell you about later. I’d resolved so many times not to eat the entire package of Oreos, without success. So how did I lose all that weight and keep it off reclaiming my health and gaining a new life in the process? Here’s the simple answer: my brain changed. I decided to first become a different person in my mind and then learned patience as my body followed. My success wasn’t measured only by a declining number on a scale; it was much deeper. I had to change on the inside. I needed to change my mind before I could change my body. It will work the same way for you. First you must get to the right place in your head, and then you can create the lifestyle to go along with that. Your body reflects your daily choices, so stop confusing it by the way you think. The mistake so many people make is to focus on weight loss and how long it will take. In fact, the multibillion-dollar diet industry banks on people thinking this way. Don’t get stuck in the weight loss weight gain cycle. What you should focus on is the person you want to be. Set your sights very high, and keep your commitment level even higher. In this book I’ll explain how I did that. I went from being someone who weighed more than a Miami Dolphins lineman to someone who is strong and trim and can run twenty-six miles. I went from a state of hopelessness to a life of incredible confidence. And I want to help you achieve something great in your life. If you change your mind before attempting to change your body, you can do this.
HITTING ROCK BOTTOM
While I was learning how to lose weight and regain my health, I faced setback after setback. My husband lost his job, and my mother was diagnosed with cancer—and those were only two of the crises that came along. Changing your life will never be easy, and that’s why in order to succeed, you first need to be ready to succeed. It’s a choice you make. In the fall of 2000, when I was baking cookies and overhearing my husband’s criticism of an overweight NFL lineman, I fell into despair. I realized my life was out of control and I was headed for an early grave if I didn’t change. But even then, I wasn’t yet ready to make the commitment that was necessary to change my life. The truth is, on that dark day I still wasn’t miserable enough to change. I hit rock bottom about six months later. I was at my heaviest ever—349 pounds, I think. Though I was still mostly in denial, I was starting to see myself clearly, and I hated what I saw. I’d look in the mirror and say, “You are pitiful! How could you have let this happen?” My appearance started to affect my family life. We live in South Florida, where every weekend is a pool party. My daughters were young, but they were being invited to a few parties, and I was horribly uncomfortable in a bathing suit. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my girls would be embarrassed by their mother, and that made me want to cry. It did make me cry. But that was the least of it. I was more worried that their mom would die young. I’d seen fat people, and I’d seen old people, but rarely had I seen fat, old people. If I couldn’t change for myself, maybe I could do it for my kids. One night I was driving home alone from an event at church. I felt trapped in despair. At age twenty-nine, my body felt old. I had recently had an emergency gallbladder operation, and the doctor had told me he was afraid to cut through all my layers of fat because of the risk of infection. Imagine being worried about your diseased gallbladder and experiencing anxiety about surgery. And then you learn that your weight problem makes you more prone to infection. That night in the car I felt like the most pathetic person who had ever lived. I believed that God had made me and put me on earth for a purpose, and I was not living the life He intended for me. I knew I had to change. As I drove, drowning in self-pity, I began to envision what my life would be if I weren’t fat. I thought of all the things I could do—even simple things, such as walking down an airplane aisle without having to turn sideways. I’d be able to board a flight without getting fearful stares from people hoping I wouldn’t sit next to them. And there were deeper things, such as being able to go down a slide at a playground with my kids. And I wanted never again to feel as if I was embarrassing my husband when he introduced me to business associates. I was tired of feeling prejudged by every server in every restaurant for what I ordered. I wanted to be able to shop in the same clothing stores as all my friends. I wanted a normal life. As I drove home from church, I came to the realization that I absolutely could not go on with my life as it was. I pulled over, sobbing. In total despair I cried out to God. I remember every word. “This is it!” I said. “I can’t live like this anymore. I’m done. I give all this pain to You. I surrender this battle. I need You to take over and give me a plan. Otherwise, I don’t want to live anymore.” Almost immediately a sense of inner peace filled me, and I calmed down. I had gone to church all my life and had a relationship with God, but I had certainly never felt anything like that before. The peace was real, and in my mind I heard from God. I clearly heard these words: You are not being the best you can be. It wasn’t a booming voice like in a movie, but it also wasn’t a voice coming from me. The words were a jolt to my soul. And that moment would change my life forever. Again, with crystal clarity, I “heard” a whisper: You are not being the best you can be. And for the first time in my life, I understood that this was a choice. I could choose to be the best I could be or not. We all have the same choice. We can’t choose our natural talents or what opportunities life is going to throw our way, but we can choose to do this one thing: we can do the best job of living that we are capable of. After praying alone in my car, I knew I could do better.
THE CHOICE IS YOURS
No matter how overweight and out of shape we are, our bodies and minds are capable of much more than we think. No matter what battles we face in life, we can have victory. The amazing thing is that so many of us choose not to. I know this is true because I was as guilty as anyone. For years I’d made poor choices and come up with excuses for why I really didn’t have a choice at all. I was big boned. I let myself overeat because I was pregnant. I skipped exercise because I didn’t have the time. I was too far gone to ever recover. I told myself whatever it took to hide the truth that I was not doing the best job of living. I was also being scammed by the diet industry. We all have been taken in by the hype. “We’ll give you your eating points,” the industry tells us, “and let you spend them on any food you want. And we’ll love you when you get on that scale, whether you’ve lost weight or not. We’ll keep hugging you for the next twenty-three years if need be.” Counting my points was not going to save me. Choosing the right frozen entrée and having it delivered to my home for the next two years was not going to save me. I didn’t need the unconditional love of strangers; I needed unconditional commitment from myself. I was also scammed by the “fat gene” scientists who insisted that my weight problem was out of my hands. They were wrong; it was in my hands. Chantel, I told myself, this is not cancer. I knew, because my mother had leukemia, and I had spent more tearful nights than I could count praying for her recovery something I couldn’t do anything about. I prayed that chemotherapy would work and that God would heal her. But I realized that I’d been thinking of my obesity in the same way, as an illness. I’d even been told by experts that drastic surgery might be my only option. But that was another lie. The way I lived my life and how I contributed to my health were completely in my hands. Every one of us knows what we should do, but we don’t always do it. Instead, we pretend it’s out of our control. We take the easy way out and let ourselves down. Gaining weight doesn’t come about by accident, and it’s not forced on us. We gain weight through a series of poor choices made on a regular basis over a long period of time.
We gain weight
through a series of poor choices
made on a regular basis
over a long period of time.
The same process holds true for achieving a goal related to your health and fitness. Whether it’s weight loss, athletic accomplishment, or any other personal or business goal, you achieve what you seek by learning to make the right choices and not being scared of self-sacrifice. I began wondering what my life would be like and what I would be capable of if I simply started being the best me I could. It was time to find out. After hearing God tell me, You are not being the best you can be, I made my decision, and I said it out loud: “I can do this. I will do this.” I repeated it, and I meant it. At that moment by the side of Cypress Creek Road, my life turned around.
DO IT, THEN TALK
Having made the commitment, I knew I was going to change my life, but I didn’t have a specific plan. I knew I’d have to start exercising, no matter how much I dreaded it. I knew I would have to change the way I ate, and I would need to learn more about nutrition. And to become a different person, I knew I would have to start thinking like the person I wanted to be and not the person I had allowed myself to become. I didn’t know how I was going to do all this, but I knew I would have God by my side. He might not make it easy, but He’d give me the strength to do everything that was needed. When I got home that night, Keith was already in bed. He had never criticized my weight, for which I was incredibly grateful, but I knew how he must have felt. I looked into my husband’s eyes, told him that God had spoken to me in the car, and announced that the next morning I would begin losing weight and getting healthy. (I even mentioned that one day I would write a book to reach others in my situation.) I made it clear that I was totally committed to being the best I could be. Keith smiled at me and quoted one of his favorite sources of inspiration, the self-made billionaire Art Williams: “Do it, then talk.” He was right. I shut up. Keith fell asleep, but I had a burning passion that kept me awake that night and has kept me up many nights since. Making the unconditional decision to change—the complete commitment with no turning back—had to be followed by action. First you change your mind. But to change your body and your life, you have to get moving. You have to do things and do them differently from the past. Do it. How incredibly simple—yet how long it had taken me to get to a place where I could see that clearly. Getting fit and accomplishing my dreams was simply a matter of choosing to do it, following through every single day, and understanding that failure was not an option. I could do it. I would do it. And I did.
w
Keep reading, and you’ll find out how to change your life through five crucial decisions. The Five Decisions change your brain, giving you a new way of thinking about yourself, your life, your health, and your future. As long as you keep thinking the same way you always have, you will keep doing the things you have always done—including the unhealthy habits you have developed. Join me in the next chapter as we explore the past—including all the influences that worked together to bring us to where we are today. Understanding the messages that influence our self-perception and the way we respond to obstacles enables us to make the new decisions that are necessary for permanent change.
What Do You Want to Change, and Why?
As you prepare to make the mental changes that will lead to permanent life change, think through the reasons you want to change. What is motivating your desire to lose weight and reclaim your health? Use the questions that follow to think in detail about your life, your goals for the future, and what you’re willing to do to make this happen finally and forever.
1. Beyond losing weight, what do you most want to change about your life?
2. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to see certain areas of your life undergo radical change? If you’re not yet willing, what is holding you back?
3. When in your life have you felt the most hopeless? Are you now ready to move past those scars and never look back?
4. When you gained weight in the past, what factors caused you to lose your focus on health?
5. Identify three reasons or influences from the past that convinced you that you couldn’t achieve permanent life change. After considering these reasons, can you now admit they were merely excuses?
6. Think about the necessity of changing your mind before you attempt to change your body. Do you agree that lasting change begins on the inside? As you consider being the best you can be, are you ready to work from the inside out?
7. A total life change involves your mind, body, and spirit. Think about the spiritual aspect for a moment. Do you accept the role that faith plays in the process of changing your life for good?
8. When have you been held back by a fear of failure? Write down your biggest fears in this regard. As you face your fears, can you decide to let them go and give your all to permanent life change?
Changed My Life
How to Choose
to Do the Best
Job of Living
It should have been a scene of American family bliss. A Sunday afternoon in our home on a beautiful fall day in South Florida. My husband, Keith, was watching the Dolphins game in the living room with some friends. He’d waited all week for this. Our girls, six-year-old Ashley and four-year-old Kayla, were helping me in the kitchen. Well, kind of. Our six month-old, Jake, was jumping and laughing in his Jolly Jumper. I was baking Vanishing Oatmeal Raisin Cookies, our favorite, and everybody could smell the cinnamon and butter and couldn’t wait for the cookies to come out of the oven. Especially me. As I worked in the kitchen, I could hear the football game coming from the living room. The announcers were talking about a player who had arrived at training camp completely out of shape. He was six foot four and weighed 320 pounds. “That is a big boy,” they said. “Wow! He is huge.” “Would you look at that guy,” I heard my husband say with disgust. “I can’t believe he got so fat! What a lazy bum.” Those words cut me to the heart. I had created a happy home, with a
happy husband and happy kids. But at that moment I wanted to die, because I outweighed that player by at least 10 pounds. I was bigger than anyone playing for the Miami Dolphins. And I knew I was anything but lazy. I pulled the cookies out of the oven and felt nauseous. I was pathetic. I’d been overweight my entire adult life, but I was bigger than I had ever been. I was miserable but doing an excellent job of faking out everyone who knew me. I was five foot nine and weighed 330 pounds, maybe more. I didn’t know for sure because it had been months since I’d dared to step on a scale. Besides, the only one in the house was a conveniently inaccurate discount-store model with a wheel underneath that calibrated the scale. I had adjusted it to register the lowest weight possible. I was in denial, but I was also without hope. It was the autumn of 2000. I was twenty-eight years old and was starting to believe I would never live a long and fulfilled life. Not this way. If an angel had landed on my shoulder and whispered in my ear that, in less than two years, Oprah Winfrey would have me on her show to tell a feel good weight-loss story, I’d have sent that angel packing and gone back to my cookies. I wasn’t Oprah material. And there was absolutely nothing feel-good about my life. Call me when you want a feel-bad story. That was me. If that angel had whispered that I would one day run a marathon, I’d have checked him in to an insane asylum. I couldn’t run around the block. Even in high school I hadn’t been able to run the required twenty-minute mile. My knees hurt all the time. I was morbidly obese—a term that I knew meant an early death. If one thing was clear about my life in the fall of 2000, it was that
I could never, ever run a marathon. But I did. I finished my first one in 2005 and after that ran four more— in less than a year. I went from weighing nearly 350 pounds to less than 150 pounds. And I have appeared on Oprah and Good Morning America and the cover of People magazine as one of America’s great weight-loss successes. Getting fit wasn’t easy—there was plenty of pain, deprivation, tears, and hungeralong the way. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I won’t try to sugarcoat any of that. But, honestly, I didn’t give myself a choice. Once I made the unconditional decision that I was going to lose weight and get healthy, nothing could stop me. And nothing will stop you if you make the Five Decisions to break the fat habit for good. That’s a guarantee. Here is the secret I learned—the same secret I want to share with you. I realized I had to change my mind before I could change my body, my health, and my life. I discovered the Five Decisions, which brought about an unconditional commitment to getting healthy and fit. Once I started, I treated it like a job so that no matter what else was going on in my life, I did what I had to do to achieve daily goals, weekly goals, monthly goals, and eventually the target weight and fitness that I desired. After making the Five Decisions, getting fit was a matter of showing up for work each day. The process developed from the inside out, which was a new concept for me.
FIRST, YOU CHANGE YOUR MIND
People constantly ask me how I lost 200 pounds and started running marathons. When I explain that it took several years to achieve those goals, they wonder how I was able to stick to the plan when so many others can’t. I ask myself the same question. I had failed plenty of times before. I’d tried a few diets and failed, including a bit of foolishness called the chocolate-wafer diet, which I’ll tell you about later. I’d resolved so many times not to eat the entire package of Oreos, without success. So how did I lose all that weight and keep it off reclaiming my health and gaining a new life in the process? Here’s the simple answer: my brain changed. I decided to first become a different person in my mind and then learned patience as my body followed. My success wasn’t measured only by a declining number on a scale; it was much deeper. I had to change on the inside. I needed to change my mind before I could change my body. It will work the same way for you. First you must get to the right place in your head, and then you can create the lifestyle to go along with that. Your body reflects your daily choices, so stop confusing it by the way you think. The mistake so many people make is to focus on weight loss and how long it will take. In fact, the multibillion-dollar diet industry banks on people thinking this way. Don’t get stuck in the weight loss weight gain cycle. What you should focus on is the person you want to be. Set your sights very high, and keep your commitment level even higher. In this book I’ll explain how I did that. I went from being someone who weighed more than a Miami Dolphins lineman to someone who is strong and trim and can run twenty-six miles. I went from a state of hopelessness to a life of incredible confidence. And I want to help you achieve something great in your life. If you change your mind before attempting to change your body, you can do this.
HITTING ROCK BOTTOM
While I was learning how to lose weight and regain my health, I faced setback after setback. My husband lost his job, and my mother was diagnosed with cancer—and those were only two of the crises that came along. Changing your life will never be easy, and that’s why in order to succeed, you first need to be ready to succeed. It’s a choice you make. In the fall of 2000, when I was baking cookies and overhearing my husband’s criticism of an overweight NFL lineman, I fell into despair. I realized my life was out of control and I was headed for an early grave if I didn’t change. But even then, I wasn’t yet ready to make the commitment that was necessary to change my life. The truth is, on that dark day I still wasn’t miserable enough to change. I hit rock bottom about six months later. I was at my heaviest ever—349 pounds, I think. Though I was still mostly in denial, I was starting to see myself clearly, and I hated what I saw. I’d look in the mirror and say, “You are pitiful! How could you have let this happen?” My appearance started to affect my family life. We live in South Florida, where every weekend is a pool party. My daughters were young, but they were being invited to a few parties, and I was horribly uncomfortable in a bathing suit. I knew it wouldn’t be long before my girls would be embarrassed by their mother, and that made me want to cry. It did make me cry. But that was the least of it. I was more worried that their mom would die young. I’d seen fat people, and I’d seen old people, but rarely had I seen fat, old people. If I couldn’t change for myself, maybe I could do it for my kids. One night I was driving home alone from an event at church. I felt trapped in despair. At age twenty-nine, my body felt old. I had recently had an emergency gallbladder operation, and the doctor had told me he was afraid to cut through all my layers of fat because of the risk of infection. Imagine being worried about your diseased gallbladder and experiencing anxiety about surgery. And then you learn that your weight problem makes you more prone to infection. That night in the car I felt like the most pathetic person who had ever lived. I believed that God had made me and put me on earth for a purpose, and I was not living the life He intended for me. I knew I had to change. As I drove, drowning in self-pity, I began to envision what my life would be if I weren’t fat. I thought of all the things I could do—even simple things, such as walking down an airplane aisle without having to turn sideways. I’d be able to board a flight without getting fearful stares from people hoping I wouldn’t sit next to them. And there were deeper things, such as being able to go down a slide at a playground with my kids. And I wanted never again to feel as if I was embarrassing my husband when he introduced me to business associates. I was tired of feeling prejudged by every server in every restaurant for what I ordered. I wanted to be able to shop in the same clothing stores as all my friends. I wanted a normal life. As I drove home from church, I came to the realization that I absolutely could not go on with my life as it was. I pulled over, sobbing. In total despair I cried out to God. I remember every word. “This is it!” I said. “I can’t live like this anymore. I’m done. I give all this pain to You. I surrender this battle. I need You to take over and give me a plan. Otherwise, I don’t want to live anymore.” Almost immediately a sense of inner peace filled me, and I calmed down. I had gone to church all my life and had a relationship with God, but I had certainly never felt anything like that before. The peace was real, and in my mind I heard from God. I clearly heard these words: You are not being the best you can be. It wasn’t a booming voice like in a movie, but it also wasn’t a voice coming from me. The words were a jolt to my soul. And that moment would change my life forever. Again, with crystal clarity, I “heard” a whisper: You are not being the best you can be. And for the first time in my life, I understood that this was a choice. I could choose to be the best I could be or not. We all have the same choice. We can’t choose our natural talents or what opportunities life is going to throw our way, but we can choose to do this one thing: we can do the best job of living that we are capable of. After praying alone in my car, I knew I could do better.
THE CHOICE IS YOURS
No matter how overweight and out of shape we are, our bodies and minds are capable of much more than we think. No matter what battles we face in life, we can have victory. The amazing thing is that so many of us choose not to. I know this is true because I was as guilty as anyone. For years I’d made poor choices and come up with excuses for why I really didn’t have a choice at all. I was big boned. I let myself overeat because I was pregnant. I skipped exercise because I didn’t have the time. I was too far gone to ever recover. I told myself whatever it took to hide the truth that I was not doing the best job of living. I was also being scammed by the diet industry. We all have been taken in by the hype. “We’ll give you your eating points,” the industry tells us, “and let you spend them on any food you want. And we’ll love you when you get on that scale, whether you’ve lost weight or not. We’ll keep hugging you for the next twenty-three years if need be.” Counting my points was not going to save me. Choosing the right frozen entrée and having it delivered to my home for the next two years was not going to save me. I didn’t need the unconditional love of strangers; I needed unconditional commitment from myself. I was also scammed by the “fat gene” scientists who insisted that my weight problem was out of my hands. They were wrong; it was in my hands. Chantel, I told myself, this is not cancer. I knew, because my mother had leukemia, and I had spent more tearful nights than I could count praying for her recovery something I couldn’t do anything about. I prayed that chemotherapy would work and that God would heal her. But I realized that I’d been thinking of my obesity in the same way, as an illness. I’d even been told by experts that drastic surgery might be my only option. But that was another lie. The way I lived my life and how I contributed to my health were completely in my hands. Every one of us knows what we should do, but we don’t always do it. Instead, we pretend it’s out of our control. We take the easy way out and let ourselves down. Gaining weight doesn’t come about by accident, and it’s not forced on us. We gain weight through a series of poor choices made on a regular basis over a long period of time.
We gain weight
through a series of poor choices
made on a regular basis
over a long period of time.
The same process holds true for achieving a goal related to your health and fitness. Whether it’s weight loss, athletic accomplishment, or any other personal or business goal, you achieve what you seek by learning to make the right choices and not being scared of self-sacrifice. I began wondering what my life would be like and what I would be capable of if I simply started being the best me I could. It was time to find out. After hearing God tell me, You are not being the best you can be, I made my decision, and I said it out loud: “I can do this. I will do this.” I repeated it, and I meant it. At that moment by the side of Cypress Creek Road, my life turned around.
DO IT, THEN TALK
Having made the commitment, I knew I was going to change my life, but I didn’t have a specific plan. I knew I’d have to start exercising, no matter how much I dreaded it. I knew I would have to change the way I ate, and I would need to learn more about nutrition. And to become a different person, I knew I would have to start thinking like the person I wanted to be and not the person I had allowed myself to become. I didn’t know how I was going to do all this, but I knew I would have God by my side. He might not make it easy, but He’d give me the strength to do everything that was needed. When I got home that night, Keith was already in bed. He had never criticized my weight, for which I was incredibly grateful, but I knew how he must have felt. I looked into my husband’s eyes, told him that God had spoken to me in the car, and announced that the next morning I would begin losing weight and getting healthy. (I even mentioned that one day I would write a book to reach others in my situation.) I made it clear that I was totally committed to being the best I could be. Keith smiled at me and quoted one of his favorite sources of inspiration, the self-made billionaire Art Williams: “Do it, then talk.” He was right. I shut up. Keith fell asleep, but I had a burning passion that kept me awake that night and has kept me up many nights since. Making the unconditional decision to change—the complete commitment with no turning back—had to be followed by action. First you change your mind. But to change your body and your life, you have to get moving. You have to do things and do them differently from the past. Do it. How incredibly simple—yet how long it had taken me to get to a place where I could see that clearly. Getting fit and accomplishing my dreams was simply a matter of choosing to do it, following through every single day, and understanding that failure was not an option. I could do it. I would do it. And I did.
w
Keep reading, and you’ll find out how to change your life through five crucial decisions. The Five Decisions change your brain, giving you a new way of thinking about yourself, your life, your health, and your future. As long as you keep thinking the same way you always have, you will keep doing the things you have always done—including the unhealthy habits you have developed. Join me in the next chapter as we explore the past—including all the influences that worked together to bring us to where we are today. Understanding the messages that influence our self-perception and the way we respond to obstacles enables us to make the new decisions that are necessary for permanent change.
What Do You Want to Change, and Why?
As you prepare to make the mental changes that will lead to permanent life change, think through the reasons you want to change. What is motivating your desire to lose weight and reclaim your health? Use the questions that follow to think in detail about your life, your goals for the future, and what you’re willing to do to make this happen finally and forever.
1. Beyond losing weight, what do you most want to change about your life?
2. Are you willing to do whatever it takes to see certain areas of your life undergo radical change? If you’re not yet willing, what is holding you back?
3. When in your life have you felt the most hopeless? Are you now ready to move past those scars and never look back?
4. When you gained weight in the past, what factors caused you to lose your focus on health?
5. Identify three reasons or influences from the past that convinced you that you couldn’t achieve permanent life change. After considering these reasons, can you now admit they were merely excuses?
6. Think about the necessity of changing your mind before you attempt to change your body. Do you agree that lasting change begins on the inside? As you consider being the best you can be, are you ready to work from the inside out?
7. A total life change involves your mind, body, and spirit. Think about the spiritual aspect for a moment. Do you accept the role that faith plays in the process of changing your life for good?
8. When have you been held back by a fear of failure? Write down your biggest fears in this regard. As you face your fears, can you decide to let them go and give your all to permanent life change?
Never Say Diet Personal Trainer Product Details:
List Price: $10.99
Paperback: 176 pages
Publisher: WaterBrook Press (December 16, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0307446425
ISBN-13: 978-0307446428
Week 1 Training Plan
The Perfect Body Type: Yours!
You Are Lovely Today
Scripture for the week: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.… When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.”
—PSALM 139:14–16
Quote for the week: “Faith, as Paul saw it, was a living, flaming thing leading to surrender and obedience to the commandments of Christ.”
—A. W. TOZER
As you begin the journey to never say diet, remember that your value is based on who you are in Christ, not what the number on the scale says. God created everything about you, and He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows which foods are your weaknesses, and He is there whenever the temptation to overeat or consume unhealthy food seems overwhelming. The Lord knows the tears you have shed out of desperation. He was there to comfort you when it seemed like no one understood your pain. Trust me, on days when I feel the most flawed, I need the verses from Psalm 139 to remind me of what is true. The living God formed every part of my body, even the parts I would like to change. Although I used to struggle and fail in caring for my body, God always knew it best. When I finally cried out to my Creator and invited Him to help with the repair, I knew I could succeed. He wants you to succeed too. Start this week by thanking the Lord for the gifts of your life and your body. By focusing on making some improvements, you will ultimately be honoring Him more and more each day. Find a recent photo of yourself, or take one, and tape it in the space that follows. This picture will be a powerful reference for you in the coming weeks as you begin your transformation.
THE MIND FACTOR: CHANGE YOUR BRAIN
In Never Say Diet, I make a big deal about the Five Decisions—and for good reason. You will fail in this new attempt to change your life unless you first change your brain. To succeed, you need to be willing to do whatever it takes—unconditionally. I want to be your cheerleader and your friend. And for us to get going, you need to commit to the five Brain Change decisions found on pages 76–82 of Never Say Diet. Think about how each of the Five Decisions applies to your life. Also, try to memorize them. They will form the backbone you need to stand up to and overcome every area of weakness in your life. Create your personal surrender statement.
THE EXERCISE EQUATION: ARE YOU WILLING?
This week your first assignment is to start building a foundation of discipline. You will be successful over the next month if you show up for exercise thirty minutes a day, five days in a row, every week—no matter what. There are many choices for your cardiovascular exercise. Below is a list of suggestions. Even if your week gets hectic, finding the time to make this happen is imperative.
Cardio Exercise Suggestions
Basketball
Bike riding
Cross-country skiing machine
Dancing
Elliptical machine
Jogging/running
Kick boxing
Racquetball
Spinning class
Stair climber
Stair stepper
Stationary bike/recumbent bike
Step aerobics
Swimming
Tennis
Walking
How to Take Your Measurements
Taking your measurements at the beginning of each month is an important part of the process of losing weight. You will begin to see precisely where you are losing fat. As you start building more muscle, there will be months where your progress is more evident in your measurements than on the scale, because muscle is denser than fat. You will begin by taking six measurements. You should be able to do them by yourself, with the exception of your upper arm. (Ask a friend or your spouse to help you.) For instructions on taking accurate measurements, see pages 97–98 of Never Say Diet. Record your measurements below.
Bust: ______________
Chest: ______________
Waist: ______________
Hips: ______________
Thighs: ______________
Arms: ______________
Be sure that you consistently measure in the same spots each month. I also recommend taking your measurements before your workouts.
Weigh Yourself
Weigh yourself, and record your weight at the beginning of each week.
Week 1 starting weight: ________
WEEK 1 CARDIO TRAINING
Complete your cardio exercise five days in a row, for at least thirty minutes per day. In the space provided, write down the day, the date, the exercise you completed, and the duration of each exercise period. This serves as a reminder that you always found a way to get the exercise done, whether you felt like it or not.
Day 1 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 2 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 3 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 4 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 5 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
THE FOOD FACTOR: BREAKFAST IS
WHERE IT’S AT
This week you must place your nutritional focus on the most important meal of the day: breakfast. Plan to eat every day within two hours of waking up. Listed below are some fresh food ideas. Each one is about three hundred calories, which is perfect!
• Quaker Weight Control oatmeal, 1 tablespoon of raisins, cinnamon to taste, 2 slices of turkey bacon.
• One slice of whole-wheat toast, light spread of peanut butter (natural is best), and ½ grapefruit.
• Chocolate strawberry shake. Blend the following: 1 scoop chocolate protein powder, 10 small frozen strawberries, 1 packet sugar substitute, ½ cup low-fat milk, a few ice cubes.
• Egg white omelet. In a skillet with nonstick spray, cook veggies you like, 3 lightly beaten egg whites, and 1 tablespoon fat-free cheese. Accompany with half an English muffin with a dab of peanut butter.
Each of these breakfast meals provides a good balance of protein, carbs, and fat. This ensures your day gets off to a good start; it is igniting your source of energy. Find a few meals that you enjoy, and keep repeating them. This way you won’t stress out over deciding what to have.
Week 1 Breakfast Log
Using the space provided, record each day’s breakfast menu and the portions.
Day 1 date/time: ___________________________________ ________________________________________________
Day 2 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 3 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 4 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 5 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 6 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 7 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
The Perfect Body Type: Yours!
You Are Lovely Today
Scripture for the week: “I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.… When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body.”
—PSALM 139:14–16
Quote for the week: “Faith, as Paul saw it, was a living, flaming thing leading to surrender and obedience to the commandments of Christ.”
—A. W. TOZER
As you begin the journey to never say diet, remember that your value is based on who you are in Christ, not what the number on the scale says. God created everything about you, and He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows which foods are your weaknesses, and He is there whenever the temptation to overeat or consume unhealthy food seems overwhelming. The Lord knows the tears you have shed out of desperation. He was there to comfort you when it seemed like no one understood your pain. Trust me, on days when I feel the most flawed, I need the verses from Psalm 139 to remind me of what is true. The living God formed every part of my body, even the parts I would like to change. Although I used to struggle and fail in caring for my body, God always knew it best. When I finally cried out to my Creator and invited Him to help with the repair, I knew I could succeed. He wants you to succeed too. Start this week by thanking the Lord for the gifts of your life and your body. By focusing on making some improvements, you will ultimately be honoring Him more and more each day. Find a recent photo of yourself, or take one, and tape it in the space that follows. This picture will be a powerful reference for you in the coming weeks as you begin your transformation.
THE MIND FACTOR: CHANGE YOUR BRAIN
In Never Say Diet, I make a big deal about the Five Decisions—and for good reason. You will fail in this new attempt to change your life unless you first change your brain. To succeed, you need to be willing to do whatever it takes—unconditionally. I want to be your cheerleader and your friend. And for us to get going, you need to commit to the five Brain Change decisions found on pages 76–82 of Never Say Diet. Think about how each of the Five Decisions applies to your life. Also, try to memorize them. They will form the backbone you need to stand up to and overcome every area of weakness in your life. Create your personal surrender statement.
THE EXERCISE EQUATION: ARE YOU WILLING?
This week your first assignment is to start building a foundation of discipline. You will be successful over the next month if you show up for exercise thirty minutes a day, five days in a row, every week—no matter what. There are many choices for your cardiovascular exercise. Below is a list of suggestions. Even if your week gets hectic, finding the time to make this happen is imperative.
Cardio Exercise Suggestions
Basketball
Bike riding
Cross-country skiing machine
Dancing
Elliptical machine
Jogging/running
Kick boxing
Racquetball
Spinning class
Stair climber
Stair stepper
Stationary bike/recumbent bike
Step aerobics
Swimming
Tennis
Walking
How to Take Your Measurements
Taking your measurements at the beginning of each month is an important part of the process of losing weight. You will begin to see precisely where you are losing fat. As you start building more muscle, there will be months where your progress is more evident in your measurements than on the scale, because muscle is denser than fat. You will begin by taking six measurements. You should be able to do them by yourself, with the exception of your upper arm. (Ask a friend or your spouse to help you.) For instructions on taking accurate measurements, see pages 97–98 of Never Say Diet. Record your measurements below.
Bust: ______________
Chest: ______________
Waist: ______________
Hips: ______________
Thighs: ______________
Arms: ______________
Be sure that you consistently measure in the same spots each month. I also recommend taking your measurements before your workouts.
Weigh Yourself
Weigh yourself, and record your weight at the beginning of each week.
Week 1 starting weight: ________
WEEK 1 CARDIO TRAINING
Complete your cardio exercise five days in a row, for at least thirty minutes per day. In the space provided, write down the day, the date, the exercise you completed, and the duration of each exercise period. This serves as a reminder that you always found a way to get the exercise done, whether you felt like it or not.
Day 1 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 2 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 3 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 4 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
Day 5 date/exercise/duration:
________________________________________________
How did it go?
________________________________________________
THE FOOD FACTOR: BREAKFAST IS
WHERE IT’S AT
This week you must place your nutritional focus on the most important meal of the day: breakfast. Plan to eat every day within two hours of waking up. Listed below are some fresh food ideas. Each one is about three hundred calories, which is perfect!
• Quaker Weight Control oatmeal, 1 tablespoon of raisins, cinnamon to taste, 2 slices of turkey bacon.
• One slice of whole-wheat toast, light spread of peanut butter (natural is best), and ½ grapefruit.
• Chocolate strawberry shake. Blend the following: 1 scoop chocolate protein powder, 10 small frozen strawberries, 1 packet sugar substitute, ½ cup low-fat milk, a few ice cubes.
• Egg white omelet. In a skillet with nonstick spray, cook veggies you like, 3 lightly beaten egg whites, and 1 tablespoon fat-free cheese. Accompany with half an English muffin with a dab of peanut butter.
Each of these breakfast meals provides a good balance of protein, carbs, and fat. This ensures your day gets off to a good start; it is igniting your source of energy. Find a few meals that you enjoy, and keep repeating them. This way you won’t stress out over deciding what to have.
Week 1 Breakfast Log
Using the space provided, record each day’s breakfast menu and the portions.
Day 1 date/time: ___________________________________ ________________________________________________
Day 2 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 3 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 4 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 5 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 6 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Day 7 date/time: ___________________________________
________________________________________________
Saturday, January 3, 2009
It is time to play a Wild Card! Every now and then, a book that I have chosen to read is going to pop up as a FIRST Wild Card Tour. Get dealt into the game! (Just click the button!) Wild Card Tours feature an author and his/her book's FIRST chapter!
You never know when I might play a wild card on you!
Today's Wild Card author is:
and the book:
NavPress Publishing Group (October 10, 2008)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Tosca Lee is the author of the critically acclaimed Demon: A Memoir (2007), a ForeWord Magazine Book of the Year Silver Award winner, American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year nominee, and Christy award finalist. Her eagerly-awaited second novel, Havah: The Story of Eve, released October 2008 to high praise, including a starred review from Publishers Weekly.A sought-after speaker and first runner-up to Mrs. United States 1998, Tosca works as a Senior Consultant for the Gallup Organization. She received her B.A. in English and International Relations from Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts. She also studied at Oxford University.
In her spare time, Tosca enjoys travel, cooking, history and theology. She currently resides in Nebraska.
Visit the author's website and blog.
Product Details:
List Price: $ 14.99
Paperback: 368 pages
Publisher: NavPress Publishing Group (October 10, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1600061249
ISBN-13: 978-1600061240
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
Prologue
I have seen paradise and ruin. I have known bliss and terror.
I have walked with God.
And I know that God made the heart the most fragile and resilient of organs, that a lifetime of joy and pain might be encased in one mortal chamber.
I still recall my first moment of consciousness—an awareness I’ve never seen in the eyes of any of my own children at birth: the sheer ignorance and genius of consciousness, when we know nothing and accept everything.
Of course, the memory of that waking moment is fainter now, like the smell of the soil of that garden, like the leaves of the fig tree in Eden after dawn—dew and leaf green. It fades with that sense of something once tasted on the tip of the tongue, savored now in memory, replaced by the taste of something similar but never quite the same.
His breath a lost sough, the scent of earth and leaf mold that was his sweaty skin has faded too quickly. So like an Eden dawn—dew on fig leaves.
His eyes were blue, my Adam’s.
How I celebrated that color, shrouded now in shriveled eyelids—he who was never intended to have even a wrinkle! But even as I bend to smooth his cheek, my hair has become a white waterfall upon his Eden—flesh and loins that gave life to so many.
I think for a moment that I hear the One and that he is weeping. It is the first time I have heard him in so long, and my heart cries out: He is dead! My father, my brother, my love!
I envy the earth that envelopes him. I envy the dust that comes of him and my children who sow and eat of it.
This language of Adam’s—the word that meant merely “man” before it was his name—given him by God himself, is now mine. And this is my love song. I will craft these words into the likeness of the man before I, too, return to the earth of Adam’s bosom.
My story has been told in only the barest of terms. It is time you heard it all. It is my testament to the strength of the heart, which has such capacity for joy, such space for sorrow, like a vessel that fills and fills without bursting.
My seasons are nearly as many as a thousand. So now listen, sons, and hear me, daughters. I, Havah, fashioned by God of Adam say this:
In the beginning, there was God . . .
But for me, there was Adam.
The Garden
Chapter 1
A whisper in my ear: Wake!
Blue. A sea awash with nothing but a drifting bit of down, flotsam on an invisible current. I closed my eyes. Light illuminated the thin tissues of my eyelids.
A bird trilled. Near my ear: the percussive buzz of an insect. Overhead, tree boughs stirred in the warming air.
I lay on a soft bed of herbs and grass that tickled my cheek, my shoulders, and the arch of my foot, whispering sibilant secrets up to the trees.
From here, I felt the thrum of the sap in the stem; the pulsing veins of the vine; the beat of my heart in euphony with hundreds more around me; the movement of the earth a thousand miles beneath.
I sighed as one returning to sleep, to retreat to the place I had been before, the realm of silence and bliss—wherever that is.
Wake!
I opened my eyes again upon the milling blue, saw it spliced by the flight of a bird, chevron in the sky.
This time, the voice came not to my ear, but directly to my stirring mind: Wake!
There was amusement in it.
I knew nothing of where or what I was, did not understand the polyphony around me or the wide expanse like a blue eternity before me.
But I woke and knew I was alive.
A rustle, a groan practically in my ear. I twitched at a stirring against my hip. A moment later, a touch drifted across a belly I did not yet know I owned, soft as a leaf skittering along the ground.
A face obscured my vision. I screamed. Not with fear—I was no acquaintance of fear—nor with startlement, because I had been aware of the presence already, but because it was the only statement that came to lips as artless as mine.
The face disappeared and returned, blinking into my own, the blue above captured in twin pools . Then, like a gush of water from a rock, gladness thrilled my heart. But its source was not me.
At last! It came, unspoken—a different source than the voice before—the words thrust jubilantly to the sky: “At last!”
He was up on legs like the trunks of sturdy saplings, beating at the earth with his feet. He thumped his chest and shouted to the sun and clapped his hands. “At last!” he cried, his laughter like warm clay between the toes. He shook his shoulders and stomped the grass, slapping his chest as he shouted again and again. Though I did not understand the utterance, I knew its meaning at once: joy and exultation at something longed for suddenly found.
I tried to mimic his sound; it came out as a squawk and then a panting laugh. Overhead, a lark chattered an extravagant address. I squeaked a shrill reply. The face lowered to mine, and the man’s arms wrapped, womb-tight, around me.
“Flesh of my flesh,” he whispered, hot against my ear. His fingers drifted from my hair to my body, roaming like the goat on the hills of the Sacred Mount. I sighed, expelling the last remnants of that first air from my lungs—the last of the breath in them not drawn by me alone.
He was high-cheeked, this adam, his lower lip dipping down like a folded leaf that drips sweet water to thirsty mouths. His brow was a hawk, soaring above the high cliffs, his eyes blue lusters beneath the fan of his lashes. But it was his mouth that I always came back to, where my eyes liked best to fasten after taking in the shock of those eyes. Shadow ran along his jaw, obsidian dust clinging to the curve of it, drawing my eye to the plush flesh of his lips, again, again, again.
He touched my face and traced my mouth. I bit his finger. He gathered my hands and studied them, turning them over and back. He smelled my hair and lingered at my breasts and gazed curiously at the rest of me. When he was finished, he began all over again, tasting my cheek and the salt of my neck, tracing the instep of my foot with a fingertip.
Finally, he gathered me up, and my vision tilted to involve an altogether new realm: the earth and my brown legs upon it. I clutched at him. I seemed a giant, towering above the earth—a giant as tall as he. My first steps stuttered across the ground as the deer in the hour of its birth, but then I pushed his hands away. My legs, coltish and lean, found their vigor as he urged me, walking far too fast, to keep up. He made for the orchard, and I bolted after him with a surge of strength and another of my squawking sounds. Then we were running—through grasses and over fledgling sloes, the dark wool of my hair flying behind me.
We raced across the valley floor, and my new world blurred around me: hyssop and poppy, anemone, narcissus, and lily. Roses grew on the foothills amidst the caper and myrtle.
A blur beside me: the long-bodied great cat. I slowed, distracted by her fluidity, the smooth curve of her head as she tilted it to my outstretched hand. I fell to the ground, twining my arms around her, fingers sliding along her pelt. Her tongue was rough—unlike the adam’s—and she rumbled as she rolled against me.
Far ahead, the adam called. Overhead, a hawk circled for a closer look. The fallow deer at a nearby stream lifted her head.
The adam called again, wordlessly: longing and exuberance. I got up and began to run, the lioness at my heels. I was fast—nearly as fast as she. Exhilaration rose from my lungs in quick pants—in laughter. Then, with a burst, she was beyond me.
She was gone by the time the adam caught me up in his arms. His hands stroked my back, his lips, my shoulder. I marveled at his skin—how smooth, how very warm it was.
“You are magnificent,” he said, burying his face against me. “Ah, Isha—woman, taken from man!”
I said nothing; although I understood his meaning, I did not know his words. I knew with certainty and no notion of conceit, though, that he was right.
At the river he showed me how he cupped his hands to drink, and then cupped them again for me. I lowered my head and drank as a carp peered baldy from the shallows up at me.
We entered the water. I gasped as it tickled the backs of my knees and hot hairs under my arms, swirling about my waist as though around a staunch rock as our toes skimmed a multitude of pebbles. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
“All of this: water,” he said, grunting a little bit as he swam toward the middle of the river where it widened into a broad swath across the valley floor. “Here—the current.”
“Water,” I said, understanding in the moment I spoke it the element in all its forms—from the lake fed by the river to the high springs that flow from the abyss of the Mount. I felt the pull of it as though it had a gravity all its own—as though it could sweep me out to the cold depths of the lake and lull me by the tides of the moon.
From the river I could see the high walls of our cradle: the great southern Mount rising to heaven, and to the north, the foothills that became the long spine of a range that arched toward the great lake to the west.
I knew even then that this was a place set apart from the unseen lands to the north, the alluvial plain to the south, the great waters to the east and far to the west.
It was set apart solely because we dwelt in it.
But we were not alone. I could see them, after a time, even as we left the river and lay upon its banks. I saw them in sidelong glances when I looked at something else: a sunspot caught in the eye, a ripple in the air, a shock of light where there should be only shadow. And so I knew there were other beings, too.
The adam, who studied me, said nothing. We did not know their names.
The first voice I heard urging me to wake had not been the man’s. Now I felt the presence of it near me, closer than the air, than even the adam’s arms around me.
I returned the man’s strange amazement, taken by his smooth, dark skin, the narrowness of his hips, his strange sex. He was warmer than I, as though he had absorbed the heat of the sun, and I laid my cheek against his flat breasts and listened to the changeling beat of his heart. My limbs, so fresh to me, grew heavy. As languor overtook me, I retreated from the sight of my lovely, alien world.
Perhaps in closing my eyes, I would return to the place I had been before.
For the first time since waking, I hoped not.
I slept to the familiar thrum of his heart as insects made sounds like sleepy twitches through the waning day.
When I woke, his cheek was resting against the top of my head. Emotion streamed from his heart, though his lips were silent.
Gratitude.
I am the treasure mined from the rock, the gem prized from the mount.
He stirred only when I did and released me with great reluctance. By then the sun had moved along the length of our valley. My stomach murmured.
He led me to the orchard and fed me the firm flesh of plums, biting carefully around the pits and feeding the pieces to me until juice ran down our chins and bees came to sample it. He kissed my fingers and hands and laid his cheek against my palms.
That evening we lay in a bower of hyssop and rushes—a bower, I realized, that he must have made it on a day before this one.
A day before I existed.
We observed together the changing sky as it cooled gold and russet and purple, finally anointing the clay earth red.
Taken from me. Flesh of my flesh. At last. I heard the timbre of his voice in my head in my last waking moment. Marvel and wonder were upon his lips as he kissed my closing eyes.
I knew then he would do anything for me.
That night I dreamed of blackness. Black, greater than the depths of the river or the great abyss beneath the lake.
From within that nothingness there came a voice that was not a voice, that was neither sound nor word but volition and command and genesis. And from the voice, a word that was no word but the language of power and genesis and fruition.
There! A mote spark—a light first so small as the tip of a pine needle. It exploded past the periphery of my dreaming vision, obliterating the dark. The heavens were vast in an instant, stretching without cease to the edges of eternity.
I careened past new bodies that tugged me in every direction; even the tiniest particles possessed their own gravity. From each of them came the same concert, that symphony of energy and light.
I came to stand upon the earth. It was a great welter of water, the surface of it ablaze with the refracted light of heavens upon heavens. It shook my every fiber, like a string that is plucked and allowed to resonate forever.
I was galvanized, made anew, thrumming that inaugural sound: the yawning of eternity.
Amidst it all came the unmistakable command:
Wake!
I have seen paradise and ruin. I have known bliss and terror.
I have walked with God.
And I know that God made the heart the most fragile and resilient of organs, that a lifetime of joy and pain might be encased in one mortal chamber.
I still recall my first moment of consciousness—an awareness I’ve never seen in the eyes of any of my own children at birth: the sheer ignorance and genius of consciousness, when we know nothing and accept everything.
Of course, the memory of that waking moment is fainter now, like the smell of the soil of that garden, like the leaves of the fig tree in Eden after dawn—dew and leaf green. It fades with that sense of something once tasted on the tip of the tongue, savored now in memory, replaced by the taste of something similar but never quite the same.
His breath a lost sough, the scent of earth and leaf mold that was his sweaty skin has faded too quickly. So like an Eden dawn—dew on fig leaves.
His eyes were blue, my Adam’s.
How I celebrated that color, shrouded now in shriveled eyelids—he who was never intended to have even a wrinkle! But even as I bend to smooth his cheek, my hair has become a white waterfall upon his Eden—flesh and loins that gave life to so many.
I think for a moment that I hear the One and that he is weeping. It is the first time I have heard him in so long, and my heart cries out: He is dead! My father, my brother, my love!
I envy the earth that envelopes him. I envy the dust that comes of him and my children who sow and eat of it.
This language of Adam’s—the word that meant merely “man” before it was his name—given him by God himself, is now mine. And this is my love song. I will craft these words into the likeness of the man before I, too, return to the earth of Adam’s bosom.
My story has been told in only the barest of terms. It is time you heard it all. It is my testament to the strength of the heart, which has such capacity for joy, such space for sorrow, like a vessel that fills and fills without bursting.
My seasons are nearly as many as a thousand. So now listen, sons, and hear me, daughters. I, Havah, fashioned by God of Adam say this:
In the beginning, there was God . . .
But for me, there was Adam.
The Garden
Chapter 1
A whisper in my ear: Wake!
Blue. A sea awash with nothing but a drifting bit of down, flotsam on an invisible current. I closed my eyes. Light illuminated the thin tissues of my eyelids.
A bird trilled. Near my ear: the percussive buzz of an insect. Overhead, tree boughs stirred in the warming air.
I lay on a soft bed of herbs and grass that tickled my cheek, my shoulders, and the arch of my foot, whispering sibilant secrets up to the trees.
From here, I felt the thrum of the sap in the stem; the pulsing veins of the vine; the beat of my heart in euphony with hundreds more around me; the movement of the earth a thousand miles beneath.
I sighed as one returning to sleep, to retreat to the place I had been before, the realm of silence and bliss—wherever that is.
Wake!
I opened my eyes again upon the milling blue, saw it spliced by the flight of a bird, chevron in the sky.
This time, the voice came not to my ear, but directly to my stirring mind: Wake!
There was amusement in it.
I knew nothing of where or what I was, did not understand the polyphony around me or the wide expanse like a blue eternity before me.
But I woke and knew I was alive.
A rustle, a groan practically in my ear. I twitched at a stirring against my hip. A moment later, a touch drifted across a belly I did not yet know I owned, soft as a leaf skittering along the ground.
A face obscured my vision. I screamed. Not with fear—I was no acquaintance of fear—nor with startlement, because I had been aware of the presence already, but because it was the only statement that came to lips as artless as mine.
The face disappeared and returned, blinking into my own, the blue above captured in twin pools . Then, like a gush of water from a rock, gladness thrilled my heart. But its source was not me.
At last! It came, unspoken—a different source than the voice before—the words thrust jubilantly to the sky: “At last!”
He was up on legs like the trunks of sturdy saplings, beating at the earth with his feet. He thumped his chest and shouted to the sun and clapped his hands. “At last!” he cried, his laughter like warm clay between the toes. He shook his shoulders and stomped the grass, slapping his chest as he shouted again and again. Though I did not understand the utterance, I knew its meaning at once: joy and exultation at something longed for suddenly found.
I tried to mimic his sound; it came out as a squawk and then a panting laugh. Overhead, a lark chattered an extravagant address. I squeaked a shrill reply. The face lowered to mine, and the man’s arms wrapped, womb-tight, around me.
“Flesh of my flesh,” he whispered, hot against my ear. His fingers drifted from my hair to my body, roaming like the goat on the hills of the Sacred Mount. I sighed, expelling the last remnants of that first air from my lungs—the last of the breath in them not drawn by me alone.
He was high-cheeked, this adam, his lower lip dipping down like a folded leaf that drips sweet water to thirsty mouths. His brow was a hawk, soaring above the high cliffs, his eyes blue lusters beneath the fan of his lashes. But it was his mouth that I always came back to, where my eyes liked best to fasten after taking in the shock of those eyes. Shadow ran along his jaw, obsidian dust clinging to the curve of it, drawing my eye to the plush flesh of his lips, again, again, again.
He touched my face and traced my mouth. I bit his finger. He gathered my hands and studied them, turning them over and back. He smelled my hair and lingered at my breasts and gazed curiously at the rest of me. When he was finished, he began all over again, tasting my cheek and the salt of my neck, tracing the instep of my foot with a fingertip.
Finally, he gathered me up, and my vision tilted to involve an altogether new realm: the earth and my brown legs upon it. I clutched at him. I seemed a giant, towering above the earth—a giant as tall as he. My first steps stuttered across the ground as the deer in the hour of its birth, but then I pushed his hands away. My legs, coltish and lean, found their vigor as he urged me, walking far too fast, to keep up. He made for the orchard, and I bolted after him with a surge of strength and another of my squawking sounds. Then we were running—through grasses and over fledgling sloes, the dark wool of my hair flying behind me.
We raced across the valley floor, and my new world blurred around me: hyssop and poppy, anemone, narcissus, and lily. Roses grew on the foothills amidst the caper and myrtle.
A blur beside me: the long-bodied great cat. I slowed, distracted by her fluidity, the smooth curve of her head as she tilted it to my outstretched hand. I fell to the ground, twining my arms around her, fingers sliding along her pelt. Her tongue was rough—unlike the adam’s—and she rumbled as she rolled against me.
Far ahead, the adam called. Overhead, a hawk circled for a closer look. The fallow deer at a nearby stream lifted her head.
The adam called again, wordlessly: longing and exuberance. I got up and began to run, the lioness at my heels. I was fast—nearly as fast as she. Exhilaration rose from my lungs in quick pants—in laughter. Then, with a burst, she was beyond me.
She was gone by the time the adam caught me up in his arms. His hands stroked my back, his lips, my shoulder. I marveled at his skin—how smooth, how very warm it was.
“You are magnificent,” he said, burying his face against me. “Ah, Isha—woman, taken from man!”
I said nothing; although I understood his meaning, I did not know his words. I knew with certainty and no notion of conceit, though, that he was right.
At the river he showed me how he cupped his hands to drink, and then cupped them again for me. I lowered my head and drank as a carp peered baldy from the shallows up at me.
We entered the water. I gasped as it tickled the backs of my knees and hot hairs under my arms, swirling about my waist as though around a staunch rock as our toes skimmed a multitude of pebbles. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
“All of this: water,” he said, grunting a little bit as he swam toward the middle of the river where it widened into a broad swath across the valley floor. “Here—the current.”
“Water,” I said, understanding in the moment I spoke it the element in all its forms—from the lake fed by the river to the high springs that flow from the abyss of the Mount. I felt the pull of it as though it had a gravity all its own—as though it could sweep me out to the cold depths of the lake and lull me by the tides of the moon.
From the river I could see the high walls of our cradle: the great southern Mount rising to heaven, and to the north, the foothills that became the long spine of a range that arched toward the great lake to the west.
I knew even then that this was a place set apart from the unseen lands to the north, the alluvial plain to the south, the great waters to the east and far to the west.
It was set apart solely because we dwelt in it.
But we were not alone. I could see them, after a time, even as we left the river and lay upon its banks. I saw them in sidelong glances when I looked at something else: a sunspot caught in the eye, a ripple in the air, a shock of light where there should be only shadow. And so I knew there were other beings, too.
The adam, who studied me, said nothing. We did not know their names.
The first voice I heard urging me to wake had not been the man’s. Now I felt the presence of it near me, closer than the air, than even the adam’s arms around me.
I returned the man’s strange amazement, taken by his smooth, dark skin, the narrowness of his hips, his strange sex. He was warmer than I, as though he had absorbed the heat of the sun, and I laid my cheek against his flat breasts and listened to the changeling beat of his heart. My limbs, so fresh to me, grew heavy. As languor overtook me, I retreated from the sight of my lovely, alien world.
Perhaps in closing my eyes, I would return to the place I had been before.
For the first time since waking, I hoped not.
I slept to the familiar thrum of his heart as insects made sounds like sleepy twitches through the waning day.
When I woke, his cheek was resting against the top of my head. Emotion streamed from his heart, though his lips were silent.
Gratitude.
I am the treasure mined from the rock, the gem prized from the mount.
He stirred only when I did and released me with great reluctance. By then the sun had moved along the length of our valley. My stomach murmured.
He led me to the orchard and fed me the firm flesh of plums, biting carefully around the pits and feeding the pieces to me until juice ran down our chins and bees came to sample it. He kissed my fingers and hands and laid his cheek against my palms.
That evening we lay in a bower of hyssop and rushes—a bower, I realized, that he must have made it on a day before this one.
A day before I existed.
We observed together the changing sky as it cooled gold and russet and purple, finally anointing the clay earth red.
Taken from me. Flesh of my flesh. At last. I heard the timbre of his voice in my head in my last waking moment. Marvel and wonder were upon his lips as he kissed my closing eyes.
I knew then he would do anything for me.
That night I dreamed of blackness. Black, greater than the depths of the river or the great abyss beneath the lake.
From within that nothingness there came a voice that was not a voice, that was neither sound nor word but volition and command and genesis. And from the voice, a word that was no word but the language of power and genesis and fruition.
There! A mote spark—a light first so small as the tip of a pine needle. It exploded past the periphery of my dreaming vision, obliterating the dark. The heavens were vast in an instant, stretching without cease to the edges of eternity.
I careened past new bodies that tugged me in every direction; even the tiniest particles possessed their own gravity. From each of them came the same concert, that symphony of energy and light.
I came to stand upon the earth. It was a great welter of water, the surface of it ablaze with the refracted light of heavens upon heavens. It shook my every fiber, like a string that is plucked and allowed to resonate forever.
I was galvanized, made anew, thrumming that inaugural sound: the yawning of eternity.
Amidst it all came the unmistakable command:
Wake!
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