In Which I Find Some Courage and Talk to You About My Book

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Right off the bat, friends, I need to tell you how much I’ve written, deleted, and rewritten this post, all while chewing the heck out of my nails.

I am the world’s biggest dork, just so you know.

It all started last Sunday when I stood next to our Sunday school’s coffee and tea table, my hand loosely holding a plastic spoon that swirled a peppermint teabag inside my styrofoam cup. As I added a spoonful of sugar to the amber liquid, another member of the class came over and asked how my book was going. With kind eyes and an interested expression, she followed up that question with now what is it about again? I stared at her for a few seconds, feeling like she’d asked me to explain quantum physics rather than my own book. I became overly-invested in my cup of tea as I both stammered out a bit of words on the subject and paused to gather my thoughts. Understanding once again that multitasking is not my friend, I sat the cup down and then managed a coherent (albeit awkward) verbal summary. When I finished, she warmly replied, “Hmmm, sounds like a book I need to read.”

I left that conversation shaking my head at myself, knowing I needed to lose the marbles-in-my-mouth feeling I get everytime I talk about my book. (And I hear the smart marketing folks from my publisher Revell saying ummm, yes.) Why does it make me feel awkward to talk about it? Because this book is rather personal as parts of my story dot the pages from beginning to end. Talking about it is a bit like showing you my journal, even handing it over to you so you can flip its pages. There is a risk you might roll your eyes at what’s inside. But there’s also the risk you might look at it and say, “Great day, this sounds like it might be right up my alley.”

What I’m saying is it feels scary to share.

But I need to get un-scared and share anyway, and that’s where y’all come in.

If I need to get more comfortable talking about my book, I feel there’s no better place to do that than here with you friends. After all, you are kind and warm people who love me well, even on the days I’m chock-full of crazy.

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So in a nutshell, friends, here’s what my book is about:

Change.

(Phew! That wasn’t so hard!)

Specifically, it’s about how to see change that isn’t our idea as a good thing and not the mean girl who aims to spread her ugly all over us.

It’s about how to see change that isn’t our idea (because who minds change that is our idea?) as a tool God uses for us, not against us. And it’s written for folks (like me) who have lived life seeing change as more foe than friend. It’s written for those who resent change and just plain don’t like it. It includes my own story of change as well as stories of other people who have lived difficult change in all its big, small, and in-between sizes yet are thriving because of it, not in spite of it.

It is a hope-filled book, and I’m very happy with how it’s shaping up.

I know I haven’t really said much here, but you know…baby steps and all. There’s also the fact the book doesn’t release ’til next fall, and that’s quite a while from now. Plus I’m a bit worried I’ve already come across as presumptuous here, arrogantly assuming you’re all interested in this project at this stage as much as I. Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. But the truth is this book is an important part of my life right now, and it feels good (even if a bit scary) to share this part with you, too.

Thanks for giving me the courage to do so–and for smiling back at me rather than rolling your eyes. Y’all are the best.

That’s one thing I’m thankful doesn’t change.

XO

How to Remodel Your Home By Thanksgiving

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In 2004, a tornado hit our house and nearly knocked it down.

Okay, not a literal tornado with swirling, wind-fueled debris brought on by adverse weather conditions. Rather, it was one of my own wind-fueled words brought on by the dangerous combination of too little sleep and too much frustration.

And maybe too much caffeine.

When I cup my hands onto the windows of our families’ life at that time, I see more specific things fueling my storm, things such as:

The stress of caring for three little ones largely by myself while my husband worked crazy long hours. 

Loneliness because I had not yet been able to make friends in our new place of residence. (This was during the “desperate woman seeks friends” era). 

And the clincher: a strong inability to be thankful.

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And so the storm within me simmered and brewed until that fateful Sunday afternoon when a surprise rainstorm blew through town and doused our plans to visit an outdoor festival. My husband, always having more work to do than time to get it done, announced he would use some of our extra time at home to wrap up a project. And that’s when my disappointment at not getting to enjoy family time outside and my frustration over facing another afternoon like all the others rotated tighter and tighter ’til I threw a fit of epic proportions.

Continue here to read more about that no good very bad day and share some helpful words of your own?

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