Marlo's Book Blog

Thankfulness from my World of Writing

Sun, 23 Nov 2008 03:50:32 GMT

Hi Friends,

I thought I’d post early this week since we’ll all be busy getting ready for Thanksgiving later in the week (and I have my next doc appt on Wednesday anyway).

So, in honor of Thanksgiving, I wanted to share a bit about what I’m most thankful for as a writer:

First, I’m thankful for the chance to partner with God in the creative process. Sometimes it feels like I’m listening in on his musings. And I’m finding that there’s a moment in every book when I see something, when I write something, that I never planned, didn’t, and didn’t realize the story had been leading up to. That’s when I feel the touch of God, I sense His pleasure, and it’s like getting a glimpse of heaven. I love those moments . . . those flashes when I know that this is what God has been doing, and the story impacts my heart and life in some new and wondrous way.

Of course, don’t ask me about those other times – when I’m staring at the blank screen, the clock is ticking, and I can’t think of a single thing to write that doesn’t sound like the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. There are plenty of those times too.

But I gotta say, those moments when I glimpse God’s vision for a story are worth all the others when I don’t.

I’m also so thankful for the chance to touch readers’ lives and hearts. What a wonderful privilege to have an opportunity to reveal God’s wonder in the written word.

And I’m so thankful to those of you who have written to me to tell me how my stories have impacted you, or how you’ve enjoyed them. Your encouragement and kindness mean so much to me!

So, now, may I wish you Happy Thanksgiving filled with moments of wonder, glimpses of His beauty, and breath-taking whispers of God’s love for you!

(P.S. Hopefully my next post will have some baby news! Check back next week!)

On Waiting ... And Trusting

Wed, 19 Nov 2008 23:57:36 GMT

Hi Friends!

Well, just a week and a half until baby boy's due date. I just got back from my weekly doc appointment, and so far so good! Baby's head is down and his heartbeat sounds strong. My blood pressure, weight, etc. all look good too. No problems detected. So, now we wait!

So, on the final countdown of days, I've been thinking about God's timing, how often He doesn't tell me what's going to happen when, but asks me just to trust Him. To wait on Him, knowing He's got the plan under control.

It reminds me of this story that happened a few years ago when I was teaching preschool kids at church:

It was just like every other Sunday morning at church. I waited in the preschool classroom with my box of supplies sitting at my side, eager to present the day’s lesson on how Jesus can make us fishers of men. I’d worked especially hard on the lesson, praying and arranging all the parts to fit together in the best way to communicate the message to the kids. Now, everything was ready.

Before me, brightly colored yarn and construction paper peeked over bins of broken crayons. Sticks that would later become fishing poles poked from the box at my side, and my Bible story book rested, open and ready, on the table in front of me. Even the dry erase board shone clean and white, with colored pens lined up in preparation for the day’s teaching. I said a quick prayer that the lesson I’d prepared would impact the hearts and minds of my young students.
In minutes, they arrived – a jumble of small, flowery dresses, clip-on ties, shiny shoes, and children’s Bibles clenched in restless hands. As soon as they sat down, it began – the barrage of “what” questions.

“What story are we reading today?”

“What are those sticks for?”

“What are we going to make with those?”

“What’s in your box?”

“What song are we going to sing?”

“What are you gonna write on the board?”

What, what, what . . .every question they could think of except “What do we need to do to get started?” Of course, I should have been used to it. The questions were nearly the same every Sunday. And just like last Sunday, and the Sunday before that, I answered them all with an assortment of “You’ll see’s,” “You’ll have to wait’s,” and “Trust me’s.”

But, this morning I wished it would have been different. I had hoped the kids would want to experience the lesson one step at a time, discovering each part as an ongoing adventure, rather than needing to know it all, all at once. Maybe it was because I’d prepared the lesson with particular care, and the order of events was essential to what I wanted to teach them. Or perhaps it was because today, especially, I didn’t want the surprise of what would come later to be spoiled by too many questions now. Or perhaps the real reason was because their questions echoed too closely the ones I’d been asking God just last night.

“What are you asking me to do this for?”

“What am I going to do if it doesn’t work out?”

“What is the purpose of these problems in my life?”

“What are you doing to me?”

What, what, what . . . every question I could think of except “What do I need to do to follow your will right now, right away?”

Like my Sunday School kids, I always want to know the end before the beginning, I want to know what everything’s for and how it will all turn out. I’m not content to take God’s well-planned lessons one step at a time, being obedient at the moment without having to know what comes next.

And just like when I’m the teacher, God answers my questions not with explanations, but with “trust me” – trust Him that He has a plan for my life, trust that He knows what He’s doing in the timing and order of it, trust that the lesson is a good one. “’Therefore do not worry about tomorrow,’” He says, “’for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.’” (Matthew 5:34 NIV)

He asks that I first learn what He’s teaching me today, right now, before I worry about what’s to come tomorrow. And, just like my Sunday School kids, I have trouble with that, especially when doubts and questions arise, or when the plan seems to be going askew. Yet, even when life is the most confusing, even when I see strange sticks poking from God’s supply box, still, the best answer to all my “what’s” is a simple “trust me…you’ll see.”

Trusting God One Bit At a Time

Wed, 12 Nov 2008 22:03:36 GMT

Hi Friends!

Well, it's been quite a week here. I'm now about 2 1/2 weeks from baby's due date, and so far everything seems to be going fine. A new niece was born last Thursday - congratulations to Jill & Christian on the birth of little Audrey! And my husband's Grandma Eileen passed away with congestive heart failure. We'll miss her.

Here's a picture of Gradma Eileen with Bethany & Joelle at Christmas a couple years ago.

Grandma Eileen's passing reminded me that in life we don't often don't get a full map, from beginning to end, telling us where to go, when to turn, what to do. So often, we only know the next thing - what God wants of us today, right now. The rest is a mystery. We don't know when the end will come, we can only know where we're going when it does. And still, God calls us to faithfully follow Him, one step at a time, one turn at a time, one day at a time. That's was faithfulness is. Doing what's right one step, one turn, one day at a time.

Because only He knows the whole path, from beginning to end. All we get are glimpses. Yet God is in those glimpses.

It reminds me of something that happened a few years ago, when I was first introduced to one of those in-car map/direction systems that tell you where to turn and how to get to whatever address you plug in.

It happened like this:

It would’ve been different if it weren’t nearly midnight, if I’d ever been in Baltimore before, or if we didn’t have a two-hour drive before us. But it was, and we hadn’t, and we did. So when my husband, Bryan, and I climbed into our Hertz rent-a-car we knew it wouldn’t be easy to get to Lewisburg, Pennsylvania over 140 miles away.

But when I unfolded the Hertz map, I realized it would be even harder than I’d thought. “This only shows downtown Baltimore and Washington DC.” I turned to Bryan and frowned.

“Well, um.” Bryan cleared his throat. "Looks like we’ll just have to figure it out on our own.” He gave me a sheepish grin, started the car, and pulled from the parking space.

We hadn’t driven ten feet when a strange voice spoke from a box attached to the dash. “What is your destination?”

“What’s that?” I pointed.

“I think it’s an onboard navigator." Bryan motioned toward the keypad. "Punch in where we’re going and see what happens.”

After a minute of pushing buttons, a map appeared on the screen, and a smooth woman’s voice emanated from the box. “Approaching right turn.”

“Look!” I sat up straighter. “It’s showing us where to go.”

Bryan made the right turn and continued to follow the box’s instructions until we reached a freeway and headed north. What a great machine!

After about 45 minutes, I wasn’t so sure. The problem was, the machine only showed us up to the next turn. It didn’t reveal the entire map, and I was starting to have my doubts.

Bryan was too. “Are we sure that box knows where we’re going?”

I squirmed in my seat. “How do we know it’s giving us the right directions?”

“That doesn’t seem like the right turn, does it?”

“Why are we going west when Lewisburg’s supposed to be north?”

Finally, Bryan had enough. “I’m pulling over and getting a map." Soon, he spotted a gas station and pulled off the road. Ten minutes later he returned with map in hand. “This is the right road,” he murmured in a very small voice. “I guess we should trust the voice in the box.”

For the rest of the trip, we decided to “trust the voice,” and sure enough, before long, we pulled up, safe and sound, in front of our hotel in Lewisburg.

Since then, I’ve realized that our Lewisburg trip is much like life. Sometimes I’m tempted to navigate by poor maps of worldly wisdom. Or, I think I can “wing it” by doing what seems easiest at the moment. But those methods will only get me lost. Christ offers me another way. When I gave my life to him, he became my onboard navigator, saying to me “This is the way, walk in it.” (Isaiah 31:21)

The problem is trusting. Sometimes it’s hard when God is telling me to be kind to someone who’s hurt me, to forgive, to go the extra mile when there seems to be no benefit for me. But what’s the hardest of all is to trust when I don’t see the whole map in front of me. I want to see all the turns and curves of my life right now. But that’s not how God works. Instead, he asks me to trust him one step at a time. And sometimes I feel like pulling off the road to check if he’s leading me the right way. But, then I tell myself to “trust the voice" – trust the One who knows more than any map I could ever buy. He knows where I am, where I’ve been, where I’m going.

And so I’m learning to believe and obey God for the “now” – to do the right thing, to do what he asks today, in this moment, and trust that He will be with me in the turns and curves to come. I remind myself that I have an onboard navigator; God knows the whole map of my life. All I need to do is trust and obey ... one turn at a time.

Finances, New Presidents - A Thought on Facing Fear

Wed, 05 Nov 2008 05:26:29 GMT

Hi Friends,

With the financial mess the nation's been facing, and the election of a new President, I've been thinking about how we often allow fear to make decisions for us. We let fear drive us to things that are unwise and unhelpful. And as I thought, I was reminded of this story that happened not too long ago. To me, it was a lesson in facing fear and choosing to trust - choosing to act wisely.

It was such a normal morning. Quiet. Boring, as I walked out to feed our two horses. The air was crisp, the sun just peeking over the pines, the grass still sparkling with dew. A regular morning. Calm, uneventful . . . until I turned a corner and saw the horses’ pens.

I stopped. There, one of the heavy-gauge metal panels lay twisted and on its side. The metal bars were bent and torn. I ran forward.

The horse was gone.

A moment later, I reached the smashed up mess that had been part of the horse pen. Chunks of palomino fur lay on the dirt, the only remnants of the 1,300 pound gelding who had somehow crumbled the thick metal and escaped.

I glanced at our other horse. She stood inside her pen trembling, her nostrils flared with fierce snorts.

“What’s wrong, girl? Where’s Biscuit?” I strove to keep the panic from my voice.

She snorted some more, then raced around her pen and stared up into the hills.
I jogged around the pen to the far side. I looked up into the hills. And saw nothing. I peered into the trees to the left. Nothing. Down the road. Nothing.

Then I looked down.

And understood.

There, clearly pressed in the mud, were two huge paw prints. Cat paws. And next to them were two sets of smaller prints. I shivered. Mountain lions. No wonder the horses were scared.

I bent lower and tracked the prints. The cats, a mama and a couple cubs, had come down the hill and stopped fifteen feet outside the mare’s pen. Then, according to the prints, they turned around and ran back into the brush. They didn’t enter the pens or harm the horses. They just stood there, then ran away.

But that was enough for Biscuit. Enough to drive him wild with fear. To cause him to climb out of his pen and smash up the metal panel as he went. Enough to make him run away from food, from shelter, from the ones who cared for him.

We spent the rest of the day searching for our missing horse (and replacing the broken panel). Hours later, we found Biscuit. In the middle of the night, he had run off in a direction he’d never been before. He’d traveled almost a mile down dangerous two-lane road, crossed it, then found his way to a barbed wire pasture. He could have been hit, gotten cut, or been killed. He hadn’t drunk any water, eaten anything but some snatches of grass, and had long tears where his back legs scraped against the metal fence.

As I led him back to his pen, to water, to food, to shelter, to safety, I thought about what drove him to escape. Fear did that. Simple, primitive, instinctual fear. The mountain lion and her cubs hadn’t endangered him at all. It was the escape that put him in real danger.

And I wondered if fear does the same thing to me. Something scary appears on the horizon of my life. Maybe it doesn’t actually threaten me, or come into my space. I just catch a whiff of it in the air, see a bit of tawny fur on the outskirts of my vision. I see the possibilities, sense what could happen if the lion attacks.

How easy it is in those circumstances to run, to panic, to do things that don’t make sense. Fear is like that. It can tempt me to hurt myself, put myself in danger, leave the place where I am fed and cared for. Instead of trusting God’s care, I, too, want to scrape and scrabble, fend for myself, throw myself into desperate acts to get away from the thing that scares me. And in doing so, I put myself in the worst danger of all.

Maybe that’s why the command to not be afraid appears more than three hundred times in the Bible. Hebrews 13:6 (NIV) tells how to respond when fear comes out of the hills and stares at us with yellow eyes. It says, “So we say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid.’"

So, instead scrambling out of the fences in our lives and running down dangerous roads to unknown pastures, God calls us to stay calm, trust Him, and remain in his will. He calls us not to fear the mountain lions, but to trust in the boundaries he places around us.

What's Pumpkin Carving Got To Do With The Cross?

Wed, 29 Oct 2008 23:11:47 GMT

Hi Friends!

What do you think of carving pumpkins? Some say jack-o-lanterns invite evil spirits, others believe they're harmless fun. So what should we do? What should we believe? And what does pumpkin carving have to do with the Cross??

This week, I've discovered that my theology of pumpkin carving (bet you never thought you'd read those words together in a sentence! ;-)) reflects much of my theology in the rest of life.

This Monday some friends (and here they are in the pictures -- Bill & Patti Risinger) came over and helped our girls carve pumpkins. What fun!

And I found as we cut and scooped and laughed and enjoyed that I don't care about the pagan history of jack-o-lanterns not because it doesn't matter but because there's nothing I like better than redeeming an activity in God's light. There's something so like our God in the idea of taking what was once meant for evil and turning it into a good and beautiful thing. That's what God specializes in. And that's what I love specializing in too.

After all, it was our God who made a instrument of execution (the cross) into a symbol of redemption, freedom, and love. That's just what God does - he takes what was meant for bad and transforms it. (See I told you pumpkin carving and the cross would have something in common!)

So, for me, there's something extra good about making pumpkin carving a time of fun and enjoyment with friends in the Lord. A time of strengthening friendships and family relationships, a time of laughter and good fun -- the kind of time that delights God and reflects His Kingdom.

The Bible tells us that every good and perfect gift is from above, given to us by God. Every good gift.

So, I've decided to not live life in fear of evil, but to always be looking for ways to redeem situations, events, traditions, etc. for the glory of God. I want to fill life with Godly joy and make all beauty, all fun -- every good thing -- into something that reflects God's glory.

So, when you're thinking about pumpkins, Halloween, and candy corn this week, think about how those things can be part of the wonder of God's love for you!

Trivia & Thoughts on the Book of Job

Wed, 22 Oct 2008 21:38:46 GMT

Hi Friends,

I had a fun baby shower this past weekend (thanks to all who came!), and one of the games was titled "Who Knows Mommy Best" - you know, one of those games where you try to guess trivia facts about a person. So, I thought it would be fun to post some of the questions and answers here, and then talk a bit about Job - you'll see why. So, here ya go:

Marlo’s favorite M&M’s: Peanut Butter

Marlo’s favorite color: Purple

Marlo’s favorite actor: Russell Crowe

Name of Marlo’s first book: Cry Freedom

Marlo’s First Car: Toyota Celica

Marlo’s favorite class in seminary: Greek Exegesis

Marlo’s favorite book of the Bible: Job

JOB - ah ha! I don't know anyone else who lists Job as their favorite book in the Bible (see, you knew I was a little crazy ;-)), but well, there you have it. And you know why? Because at its heart, Job is about witnessing the wonder of God. It's like this:

Here's a bit of a summary:

You've got a guy who God’s so pleased with that he brags about his righteousness. Job is the shining example of what a person ought to be. But Satan doesn’t like that one bit, so he wants to test Job, saying Job will curse God if things go wrong.

God believes in Job. And so, Job’s children are killed, his crops fail, he loses everything except his wife who is not at all helpful. Then he gets sores all over his body, sits in an ash heap, and scratches his sores with a broken piece of pottery. Lovely, isn’t it? The ash heap -- a great place to witness the wonder of God.

Then his friends show up. They mourn silently with him for seven days. They should have stayed silent. But they didn’t. Instead, they’re going to tell Job why he deserves all this. Problem is, Job knows he didn’t do any of those things they’re accusing him of. He knows he didn’t do anything to deserve all this.

The friends, of course, aren’t convinced, so you get thirty-some chapters of “Did-too/Did-not” in poetry. (This is where the book of Job gets its bad rap.) And Job crying out to God, “I don’t get it. Why is this happening to me??”

We've all been there, haven't we? That place where life doesn’t make sense, doesn’t seem fair, and is just hard. The “good grief, what did I ever do to deserve this??” places.

And then, it happens. After all those chapters. God shows up in the whirlwind. God Himself comes with the answer. Now, we have to assume that God’s answer is an answer, that He’s been listening in all along and knows what’s been going on. And if it’s Job’s answer, it’s also ours …

But what an answer! It's not, "Well, let me explain to you, Job, you see, you’re such a great guy I knew you could do it. You could stand up to Satan. All right, buddy" with a pat on the back. Nope, God doesn’t give a clue as to anything that went on in the heavens in the first two chapters of the book. Job remains forever ignorant of that.

And here's the key:

God doesn’t answer “WHY” at all. He answers “WHO.” And what a WHO! A glimpse of grand and intimate God. A God who made the stars to sing and also let the wild donkey go free. A God who cuts the path for a thunderstorm and is also there when the mountain goat gives birth. A God who holds the constellations together and also feeds the ravens. That is a God of wonder.

The point is: Job shows us that the answer to “Why” is no good to us. It’s what we cry out to know, and yet there’s so little value in it. It doesn’t change anything. We don’t find the God's wonder in the answer to “why.”

But “who” is a whole different thing. Seeing God for who He is, glimpsing Him in new, wondrous ways, having our eyes opened to the reality of HIM. That’s a gift. And that changes everything.

That’s why I don’t think God is being mean in chapters 38-39. He's not saying “you peon you, get out of my way” (besides, we know how highly God values Job from the book’s beginning). Rather, God is coming to Job to say, “My friend, you have no idea … let me give you a glimpse of the wonder you’ve never seen. That’s the gift Job is given in chapter 38-39.

It’s the answer to things like when life isn’t fair, when health is bad, when we grieve, when loss happens, when the life we lead has lost its luster … day to day, day after day, all our lives. The answer is the wonder of God, the reality of who He is.

So, you see, that's why I love Job ... because we glimpse God and find the answer to life's questions is not found in "why" but in "who." And somehow that makes all the difference.

It's All About Love ... Notes on Women's Retreat

Wed, 15 Oct 2008 18:26:46 GMT

Hi Friends,

Well, I'm back from speaking at the SVCC Women's Retreat this past weekend. What a fun, enriching time! My favorite parts were watching women interact and grow deeper through the activities we did for each talk. What a great group of women! Thanks so much to all of you who had been praying for me (I'm happy to report that I did fine, despite being so pregnant!) and for the time at retreat. God was there and moving in lives and hearts. It was sooo neat to see and be a part of all that.

Some main points:
-- You can't unwrap the wonder of God with white-knuckled fists clutching your own dreams and plans.
-- The God who made the stars to sing also let the wild donkey go free . . . Our God is both grand and intimate.
-- That grand and intimate God is the One who loves you enough to give everything for you, to make you His own. God's main focus for everything that happens in your life is to draw you closer to Him.

For part of the third point, I told the following story from Mark 5. I thought I'd include it here for all you wonderful blog readers:

(MARK 5:25)

Once upon a time, there was a woman who was having that time of month. Except for her, it didn’t stop after a week, or two weeks, a month, a year. She’d been bleeding for twelve long years. And where she lived, that bleeding wasn’t only unpleasant and exhausting, it made her dirty, untouchable. She used to have friends, but they’re all married now, with children. She has no husband, no kids. Others have a nice home, family. She’s spent all her money on doctors and treatments that didn’t help. Everything she once hoped for seems impossible now. And she’s so tired from the loss of blood, the loss of hope, the loss of everything.

But then, something happens. She hears about a man who can heal with a touch. It seems crazy. But maybe, just maybe . . . there’s a commotion on the street. A crowd. A name. Jesus. The one from Nazareth. He’s the one she heard about! She sneaks out the door, follows behind the crowd. Far enough back so she won’t touch anyone, won’t make them unclean too.

But she’s got to get to the one called Jesus. Maybe he won’t touch someone dirty like her. But maybe she can touch him. Just a little, on the edge of his cloak. Maybe that’s all it would take. She winds through the crowd, inching forward. Bit by bit. There he is! Closer. Closer. All she wants in the world is to be healed. For the bleeding to stop. For life to have some hope again. If only she could be healed.

She reaches out. Her fingers brush the edge of his cloak. And… it happens. She feels it, senses it, in every part of her. The bleeding stops. The anemia is gone. She’s whole, healthy, clean. She sinks back into the crowd. She has everything she wanted.

But wait.

Jesus stops. Turns. Seeks her out. He looks at her, talks to her, calls her “daughter.”

Why? She already has everything she came for. She’s healed.

--For her, healing is enough.
--But for him, he wants more.

Because for her, and for you, FIXING you isn’t enough. God wants relationship. Connection, interaction…that’s love.

That’s what’s valuable to God (when we see Jesus, we see God … whoever has seen me has seen the Father.)

That’s the lens through which we need to see everything in our lives. What happens in your life isn’t about getting you to do the right thing, choose the right path, get your problems fixed. It’s about God and relationship. It’s about Him wanting to be close to you because He loves you.