Category Archives: Uncategorized

5

Forever grateful to Shirley Jones for this likeness.

 

It’s been a sobering day for me. A day for remembering. A day for grieving. A day for gratefulness. A day for tears. 

Five years ago. I remember it well. Most days I don’t … remember it. Most days I live beyond it. But today I take time to remember the impact and the forecast of those words spoken over my life on that day:

Mrs. Olsen, you have breast cancer.

One doesn’t forget a day like that. This is my “I remember where I was” moment that folks often speak about when recalling a turning point in their history.

A two-hour trip home from Dr. Habal’s office in Greenville. A phone call to family. A phone call to Judith. A detour to Campbell University to find my first born and a detour to Methodist University to find my second. And then home to loving arms – to a mom and dad and children not quite ready to absorb the news. And then, that trip to Arby’s with the living tree growing next to our table. If you’ve read my story, then you know about that tree and those surreal moments surrounding that hallowed meal.

And here I am, five years out—a benchmark for cancer patients I’m told. Survival rates for us are measured in five year increments. By the grace of God I’ve made it to this milestone. Soberly, I await the next one, whatever that might be.

This is my one life, from start to finish, this is it. And while I’d like to say that I’ve masterfully handled the five-year journey toward this milestone, I won’t because I haven’t. Truthfully, I haven’t understood most of it. It’s been mostly a limp toward the finish line.

But there is something – a pretty important one thing that has emerged in these past five years:

My obedience to the day in front of me.

Not tomorrow’s obedience. Not next week’s. Not next year’s. Simply (and I think rather profoundly) an obedience to the unfolding of life in a single day and my participation therein. It’s an obedience that offers more personal yeses and fewer nos; more open hands than clinched fists. Just an obedience to the day – to live it, come what may, knowing that I am deeply loved and sincerely safe.

If we know this, friends, truly understand in the marrow of our bones that we are loved and that we are safe, then we can remain obedient to the day we’ve been given. Five years ago, I didn’t know this kind of security. I didn’t recognize the depth of God’s love for me, and I didn’t always feel safe in his arms. And so he gave me the love and the arms of others, and through their touch, God got bigger for me. In his bigness, I understood (maybe for the first time) that I was covered, completely and certainly safe in the shadow of the Almighty Father who calls me his child.      

And that’s something – a pretty important one thing that has trumped the scars required to get here.

Today is the day that the Lord has made. He has given it to me. In return, I yield my obedience therein. Come what may – a tomorrow, a next week, a next year, or maybe even five.

Today I raise my glass and offer a toast to August 23, 2015. I am loved, and I am safe. It is good to be here and to be sharing this day with you. As always …

Peace for the journey,

“Beyond the Scars: daring to live forward” Book Release

$12.99 (includes shipping)
$12.99 (includes shipping)

 

On January 11, 2014, I wrote this post. My heart was in a terrible place of discomfort. The publisher of my two books had disappeared off the radar, leaving nearly 2000 authors scratching their heads and wondering about the future of their previously published works. It was a mess, an awful confusion, and time has proffered very few answers to our mounting frustrations.

What to do?

Well, after I spent an appropriate amount of time licking my wounds and ample time on my knees pouring out my heart to the Father regarding (what I believe to be) this criminal injustice, I dusted off my knees as well as my original manuscript for Beyond Cancer’s Scars and edited it for a second edition. The book title was changed to Beyond the Scars: Daring to Live Forward to more accurately reflect the content of the book. My next step?

Enter Kennisha Hill, CEO of NyreePress Literary Group and my long-time, blogging friend. Through her encouragement and because of my implicit trust in her, I forged ahead with re-publishing my second book. Today, I’m pleased to present it to you . . . again. The cover has changed, as has the interior formatting. The introduction and conclusion have been re-written. Overall, it feels better to me, and I am grateful to have Beyond the Scars back in print. It remains the witness of God’s faithfulness to me before, during, and after a long season of suffering. It is my Ebenezer, my 1 Samuel 7:12—my Thus far, the Lord has helped me!

The Lord has helped me, and by his grace, I want to help others through the spreading of this book. Would you like to help as well? If so, then I have a special offer for you—a way for you to link arms with me in this season of ministry.

Currently, there are approximately eighty copies of the first edition (Beyond Cancer’s Scars) sitting in my mudroom. I want them to find their way to good homes, to others who are experiencing the scourge of cancer in this season. Accordingly, with the release of this second edition, I am offering a free copy of Beyond Cancer’s Scars to accompany every purchase of this new book made through me personally at this website via paypal or a check (while supplies last). A two-for-one deal! Because of rising shipping costs, both books will need to be shipped to the same address (USA orders only). My only request of you is that the 2nd copy wouldn’t become a dust collector in your home but that you would find a practical outlet for its release.

If you don’t have anyone in mind to receive the extra copy, I’ll donate one to my local cancer center each time a purchase of the new book is made until the old books are gone. You’ll see a section on the paypal link to indicate whether or not you’d like me to SEND the extra copy to you or for me to DONATE it locally. If no indication is made, then I will donate the book locally.

The cost of the new book is $12.99 which includes shipping (*all books shipped at media mail rates). Beyond the Scars is also now available through these online retailers (Kindle and Nook versions coming soon):

If you’d like to take advantage of the two-for-one deal I’m offering, please use the paypal link below (credit card orders are accepted with OR without a paypal account), or you can email me your interest by following this link. Also, if you’d like to read more about the new book, peruse the press release, see what others are saying, or download the first chapter of Beyond the Scars, please follow this link.

And a final thought – I would greatly appreciate your sharing this post with others on your facebook, twitter, and other social media pages. If you’re so inclined, I would also welcome your review of the book at Amazon and other on-line retailers.

I need your help, friends, and so I’m asking. I cannot do this on my own. Thank you in advance for moving the kingdom forward by linking arms with me in this season. It means more to me than you can possibly know.

Peace for the journey,

**This offer is no longer valid. To secure a copy of Beyond the Scars – click here!

Christmas Special 2012

 

For those of you who are interested in purchasing copies of my books, Peace for the Journey and Beyond Cancer’s Scars, I’m offering FREE SHIPPING on all U.S.A. orders now through December 2012.

In addition, if you order three copies of any combination of books, you’ll receive a fourth one FREE! When ordering with Paypal, order your choice of three books via the Paypal shopping cart. To receive a fourth book free, indicate your selection in the “instructions to merchant” box or send me a private message. DO NOT add your free book to the shopping cart; in doing so, you’ll be paying for the 4th book, and I won’t be able to refund your money. If you’d like to order using a check for payment, please send me a private message by clicking here.

Please keep in mind that all merchandise will be shipped at media-mail rates and may take up to two weeks to receive, although books usually arrive within a week. Therefore, plan accordingly if you’d like your books before Christmas!

Thank you so very much for supporting my work and for allowing me the opportunity to bring God’s peace and comfort into the hearts and homes of those who are searching for the light and witness of Jesus. These are good days to be walking alongside you, friends, as we, once again, make our Bethlehem pilgrimage. I pray for many manger moments to fill your days as you move forward to behold the Christ-child. These are his revelation days. Would you open up your heart so that you might receive his?

I’ll meet you on the road. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

This special is no longer available. To see our 2013 special, click here.

choosing when to walk . . .

Rain.

I’m growing weary of it. Not of its existence; rain is needful. It cleanses the earth, grows the seed, and cools the summer scorch. No, I’m not knocking the benefits and beauty of the rain. I am, however, a bit disgruntled by its timing.

Let me explain.

I’m an evening walker. I used to walk in the mornings, started my day off fresh with a hearty three or four mile jog in the brilliance of the sun’s light. Somewhere along the way, things changed. Life changed. My jogs turned into walks, my schedule obliterated by the urgent and necessary. My schedule, these days, not so necessary, less urgent than my previous one, yet new habits have taken over where old ones once reigned. And so, I now walk in the evenings. There’s nothing profound or deep buried in this reality. It’s just how it is.

For the last several weeks, the rain has accompanied me on my walks. I may start out dry with blue skies and a smattering of gray-bottomed, cloudy pillows as my companions, but I usually return to the house with a few drops of heavenly dispensation on my clothing. In all my years of living on the East Coast, I’ve never experienced such predictability. And so tonight (with my son’s promised forecast for sunny skies and lower temps), I began my customary stroll around the neighborhood. This time I took my umbrella . . . just in case. Good thing. My “just in case” rolled in about the time my feet rounded the corner on Fordham Drive.

Buckets of rain, absorbing through my cheap umbrella, making sure I knew it meant business. I wasn’t going to escape the wetness. Instead, I was forced to endure it . . . again, all the while praying that anyone in my household might look out the blinds to notice my predicament and run to my rescue. They didn’t. Instead, they stayed dry in the comfort of our home while I willfully pushed through puddles and streams and soggy socks, all the while hating the rain and wondering why it seems to prefer my walking hour rather than the other twenty-three that fill up a day.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m thinking about it too. Why not change the time of your walk, Elaine? Why risk the rain at night, when the morning promises more dryness? Why not the certainty of the day rather than this new predictability of the evening?

Why, indeed?

I don’t have a good answer for you. I won’t even tell you that “into every life a little rain must fall.” You get it. You know about the rainy season—those times when we cannot choose the climate surrounding our hearts and we must press through the rain because there’s no other option. That’s not what I’m talking about here. What I am wondering about are those times when you and I have a choice . . . to walk in the rain or to walk in the sunshine. What about those times in our lives when we stubbornly choose the rain over the sunshine? When we refuse a change of habit and heart and cling tightly to our way over a better way? Why walk with the clouds when the sun is available?

I’ve had a lot of rainy days as of late; I cannot predict all of the clouds that will move in and out of my life, nor the precipitation they’ll bring with them. I can, however, predict a few of them—those evening showers. Accordingly, I can make a choice to avoid them . . . to move my walking to daytime hours. In doing so, I’ll avoid some wetness, some heartache as well.

I don’t always have to get wet. You don’t either. Sometimes we get to choose when we walk. Sometimes we have an option . . .

The sunshine or the rain.

Seems to me a better choice to enjoy the sun while it is shining brightly overhead rather than to be caught in the rain with regret. And therein lies a thought or two worth considering. As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

My friend, Melanie Dorsey, has also written about “choosing” today. Join her in worship by clicking here.

when Genesis falls to the floor…

Genesis went flying to the floor . . . literally. It came unglued, unhinged from its binding and cascaded to the ground a few weeks ago while I was walking down the hallway. I knew it was loose, knew it wouldn’t be long before I would have to give attention to its permanency. The cover holding it all together—the entirety of God’s Word—had long since lost its luster. My Bible desperately needed a make-over, but I kept hoping for “later” rather than “sooner.” It kept telling me “sooner” rather than “later,” and when Genesis fell to the floor, I made the decision to fix the problem.

 

After all, what good is the story—my story—when the beginning is omitted? When Genesis goes missing, so goes understanding. Life, faith, and truth must be worked out within the framework of Genesis—our beginning days when the Word hovered over the dark and the deep and spoke words of gracious and good creation. We need the witness of our beginning. No life story is complete without it. With this in mind, I carefully packed my “Genesis,” along with the remaining balance of Scripture, and sent my beloved Bible to Burrows, IN. Apparently, the Word is alive and active in Burrows, and there are some wonderful folks at Leonard’s Books more than willing to make sure that my beginning stays intact.

 

I am grateful for their handiwork. Yes, I could have purchased another Bible, perhaps a couple for the price that I paid to have it restored, but they wouldn’t be able to replace this one. Why? Because it is this Bible, the one I purchased eight years ago, that has literally transformed my heart. This Bible and I have some longevity with one another; I plan on it walking with me the rest of the journey home. Having my beginning in hand makes my ending that much sweeter.

 

So, a question or two. What do you do when your beginning—your “Genesis”—falls to the ground, separates itself from the rest of the pages of your story? Do you leave it there unattended? Do you tuck it away in a drawer with good intentions to graft it back in at a later date? Do you cast it aside, deem it unnecessary and discard it along with yesterday’s trash? Do you stuff it back inside the covers of your story with hopes that it will stay . . . all on its own, without glue, without hinge?

 

Sometimes, our stories take a hit or two. Sometimes our “Genesis” falls to the ground. We lose our compass and stray far from God’s intended path. We foolishly make assumptions regarding the “fix” thereby postponing understanding. We patch, paste, and carelessly cram God’s Word together, hoping it will be enough to carry us through to the finish. But patching, pasting, and cramming leave the door open for neglect—for misplaced pages, fallen chapters, and lost beginnings. When we forsake the entirety of God’s Word, when we pick and choose what stays and what gets left behind, we’ve lost some of our story. And to lose our story, friends, is to lose the purpose of our lives.

 

How much better would it be if we carefully and willingly picked up the missing pages of our stories and sent them to God for the rebinding? He is the glue who holds our pages together, who scripts our lives from beginning to end, and who promises to make them all count . . . every last word of this great adventure called life.

 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning (John 1:1-2).

 

He is with us still—our “sooner” rather than “later.” I don’t know about you, but I could certainly use some soul-rebinding right now . . . there’s something missing in my life, a few pages that have been lost along the way. Even as I am willing to send off my Bible for repair, I pray for a heart that is willing to do the same. Maybe you understand; maybe this post is for you.

 

May the tender, gracious hands of the Father rest upon you and lovingly rebind your story to his this day. May the truth that you hold in your heart be the same truth that he holds in his, and may his covering be the strength that binds all the pages of your story together and that carries you safely home to heaven. As always . . .

 

Peace for the journey,

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