Reminders

Guess what I got in the mail yesterday? A big box of books! My books! How crazy is that? I've been dreaming about this day for twenty-four years, and it was so cool to finally rip that cardboard box open on my living room floor and see the cover of my book peering back at me. It's like a dream, except for that all fifteen of the blue-bound copies were stacked on my dresser when I woke up this morning. I'm not dreaming!

What a fun thing to experience... When the UPS guy drove up, Aaron gave me this look that said, "This is it." It seemed almost providential that Aaron was home at the time and the boys were sleeping. We sat on the floor together and took them all out, reading the back cover and flipping through the pages. Wow. I can't even begin to describe how incredible it was. And I can't tell you how happy I am with the way everything turned out. Tyndale did an excellent job on the cover, the layout, the chapter breaks... Everything looks so great.

And God gave us about ten minutes to revel in it all. Then the phone rang.

I think I've alluded to our relationship with a pastor named Robert in Liberia, but I'll fill you in on a few more details... When Aaron and I went to Ethiopia to pick up our son, Judah, we stayed in a missionary guest house. At the time, there was a Life Water conference going on and there were a number of pastors from all over Africa in attendance. One of those pastors, a man named Robert Bimba, quickly found his way into our hearts. Aaron and Robert struck up a great friendship and we left Ethiopia promising to do all that we could to help support Robert in his ministry. Robert is the pastor of a church called Abide in the Vine Fellowship in the capital city, Monrovia. Abide in the Vine also supports two orphanages both named Christ Is Our Hope.

Anyway, now that we are settled back in our comfortable, North American lives, God is doing a very good job of reminding us of what he expects from us... We have indeed kept our promise to Robert and we have struck up a church partnership between the church that Aaron pastors (Bridge of Hope) and Abide in the Vine. We are also in the process of setting up a child sponsorship program for the kids in the orphanages. But just when we think we can take a break and pat ourselves on the back, God gently reminds us that we are nowhere near done.

Yesterday, as I sat in my glory surrounded by all these beautiful books, Robert called. We are blessed to be able to speak with Robert once or twice a week, and we always look forward to hearing his voice. But yesterday, Robert called with bad news.

It's the rainy season in Liberia and the people are, quite literally, struggling to survive. Last week Robert gathered his entire congregation and brought them to the church where they stayed for five days together, praying and fasting. The orphanages have run out of food, many of the children are sick, and Satan seems to be mustering armies against these already besieged people. And then, the morning after these beautiful children of God break their time of fasting and prayer, thieves enter the church and steal everything they can lay their hands on.

I was grinning over the books when Robert called, and all I could hear was Aaron's side of the conversation: "No. Oh no. No, you've got to be kidding me. Oh Robert, I am so sorry..." I thought we had lost one of the kids in the orphanage. And though I'm thankful that the only thing lost is a bunch of furniture, I still can't get my mind around how devastating this must be for the people of Abide in the Vine. And I absolutely can't understand how half a world away, my brothers and sisters in Christ have to plead with God for every meal they eat while I throw my extra away. While I get the joy of holding my books in my hands.

It's so wrong. And we will be held accountable for what we have done, and for what we haven't done. Every gift I receive is not my own--it is freely given from my God for his people, I am nothing more than the distributor. I better never, ever forget that.

Praise you, God, for continuing to remind me.

Hi!

So my sweet friend, Laurel, posted a link to my website in her blog and suddenly I have cyber-friends! Thanks so much for stopping by! I had so much fun reading your comments, seeing your photos, and checking out your blogs and websites. What beautiful women of God you are. I look forward to getting to know you better...

May you be blessed,
Nicole

Next?

I finished Harry and bawled like a baby. How lame is that? I attribute it to the fact that I'm not much of a crier so when I do let go, it's gonna be monumental. Or at least tidal. My poor husband thought I was insane...

Anyway, back to life as normal. Time to really get my head in the so-called game and decide what I want to do now. I have six potential books cluttering up precious space in my brain, and it's time to let one out... Question is, which one? Since I'm such a rookie in the whole publishing world, I have no idea what my next best move would be. Here's the scoop:

-Out of the six potential books, I have a good portion of three of them already written. The three I have begun include:

• A crime/drama. Sort of. The POV switches between a small town doctor (present day) and a teenage girl (1968). Their stories weave together as Lucas (the doctor) gets thrown into a situation way over his head and finds himself inexplicably drawn to a young woman he never knew.
• An adventure/drama about a woman on the brink of 30 who is chasing down an obsession that threatens to ruin her. This book is a real mind game--I'm still trying to get my head around it.
• A young adult fantasy. Really? Did I really start writing a fantasy? Yup, I think so. It revolves around a childhood dream of mine...

-The three books that are still dormant (but very much alive) in my mind include:

• A historical drama. I have wanted to write this book since I was a little girl and someday, no matter what, I will. It is my Grandmother's story, and it's proof that truth is just as magical as fiction. It will be a book about love, family, and World War II.
• An adventure/drama about a town that experiences a catastrophe of devastating proportions. Although the POV would follow the life of one young woman, the story would lie in the tapestry of lives that are woven together through such deep suffering.
• A third book about Julia (the main character in my first two novels). This book would not so much be a part of a series as the continuation of characters that I love deeply and am having a hard time letting go of! I'd hop 10 years in the future and pick things up there...

There you have it, my dilemma. Writing is obsessive for me, complusive, but I write so much better when I have a definite place to channel my energies. All this back and forth, a chapter here, a scene there, is killing me! Any words of wisdom? Bits of advice? What sounds interesting to you?

What is it about Harry?

Confession: I'm a Harry Potter maniac. And this little love affair I have with a book series that nearly takes up an entire row on my book shelf is getting a bit out of hand with the final installment. Okay, I've always been out of hand when it comes to Harry. Aaron came to bed last night, saw me curled up around the orange volume and sighed: "I can't believe I found you in bed with Harry again." His disappointment might have something to do with the fact that I reread the entire series in preparation for the final book. Did I just admit to that? I can't believe I'm telling you this stuff!

Anyway, as much as I'd love to ramble on about Harry, I do have a reason to bring this up. What is it about Harry that has me (and most of the rest of the literate world) so enthralled? J.K. Rowling's writing is simple, straightforward, and easy to read. I guess I'm not drawn to her books because she is a lyrical mastermind. The plot is cumbersome and winding, filled with so many angles, twists, and turns that I can't be sure she's still weaving them together artfully. So my interest is not about a razor-sharp edge of truth and clarity. Could it be the characters? They are definitely well-drawn and fascinating--they are as real to me as distant friends. Or maybe the page-turning excitement? It almost takes a catastrophic natural disaster to tear me from the pages. And yet, I don't think that's it...

Could Harry's allure have something to do with the fact that he embodies our deepest desire? I don't mean the fact that he's a wizard (though it would be ridiculously cool to wash my dishes with a flick of a wand). I mean the fact that he is one-in-a-million, singular, extraordinary, unique. He is necessary, desperately needed and irreplacable. Even though he is a reluctant hero, he is (or at least, seems to be) the salvation of his people. God-complex? Christ figure? I'm sure much has been written on this and I have no desire to philosophize Harry Potter. He's my escape and it is not my intention to exegete Rowling's creation. But all the same, I can't help noticing that I respond to Harry's character on a very elemental level.

Remember when you were a kid and you played imaginary games? My brother and I role-played with the kids in our neighborhood all the time. We were royalty, knights, cops, explorers in far-flung lands... We were heros. And the very world depended on us. We never once played a game or imagined a scenario where we were anything less than the very crown of creation.

I think we still long for that, whatever our age. We want affirmation at work--we want to be an irreplacable asset to our coworkers, our company. We want our spouse (or significant other, or conquest) to be thrilled by our very presence, in awe of who we are. We want to be recognized, respected, adored maybe. We want our books to sell and our reviews to be glowing. We want the world to think: This life is no life without Nicole in it. Or whoever you are. Fill in the blank.

Maybe it sounds trite (it does a bit to me, but then, I think I'm still working on grasping it completely), but there is someone who thinks all those things about us. We ARE the crown jewel of creation. We are unique, matchless, one-of-a-kind. We are each the hero of our own story. We get to be Harry. Every day.

Like I said, I don't quite get it. But I'm trying. And as I read about Harry the Hero, the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, I try very hard to understand that as far as my God is concerned, I am his extraordinary creation. I think it takes a lot of grace to grasp such a concept. I'll work on it. In the meantime, back to The Deathly Hallows. I'm almost done--don't you dare ruin it for me!

Home

Fifteen days after leaving for Vancouver, we are finally home again! BC was gorgeous, as always, and we had so much fun playing the part of eager tourists. Between the aquarium, the zoo, the beach, the pool in Auntie Danielle's backyard, the pier at Steveston, and all the other exciting things we did, our boys certainly had their fill of thrills. Vancouver still feels like home, and we fell into a wonderfully comfortable routine that I'm still missing days after we've left. And yet, it's GREAT to be back in Iowa. It feels so good to fall asleep in my own bed as I listen to the familiar groans and creaks of our sweet old house. It's nice to see family and friends again. I even like the heat and humidity. There is truly no place like home.

And I'm appreciating home now more than ever before because we almost didn't have a place to come home to.

The afternoon we were on our way home, a tanker of ethanol exploded on the train tracks near our house. We were en route, but apparently every home and business within a 1/2 mile radius was evacuated as the tanker melted into a twisted mass of molten metal. The fear: more explosions. One truck on fire is enough, but the inferno in question raged between two trains pulling 13 tanker cars full of ethanol and another 9 cars of gasoline. And, standing just behind the train tracks, there was a field of holding bins filled with anhydrous ammonia. In retrospect, a 1/2 mile blast radius was not enough. Had the tankers ignited, it would have gouged a hole in the earth where our lovely little town used to be.

I don't think I can really even grasp how dangerous the whole situation was. It's unfathomable, almost Armaggedon-like somehow. I keep imagining what it would have been like to roll into town at 3 am and find the mall, the city offices, Fareway... all gone. Terrifying.

I am so grateful for our local fire department and the 6 others that continually pumped water on the remaining tankers to keep them from igniting. (Apparently the fuel in the closest tankers was actually boiling.) I feel indebted to our rescue teams for their quick response and determination. I'm overwhelmed by the compassion of the men and women who fought to save the life of the truck driver. And I am so thankful that the Lord saw fit to spare our town a tragedy of epic proportions.

It all makes a great story, but praise the Lord that a different outcome exists only in my imagination and not in reality. Hmmm... do I see a book in all this?

Just for fun...

Just for the fun of it, my favorite vacation quotes so far:


Me to Isaac: "Stop licking your brother."

Aaron to Isaac: "Take that garbage out of your mouth and eat your french fries."

Isaac to me: "I want to be your mommy now. Go to bed! Your driving me crazy!"

Isaac to Judah: "I love you bippy baby."

Judah: "Da-da." "Wow!" "Ma-ma." (His first words!)

At the zoo. Isaac to me: "Did someone bite that tiger's tail off?" Me to Isaac: "Of course not." Zookeeper, a moment later: "A few years ago the tiger got too close to the panther cage and the panther bit off his tail and ate it." Oops.

Grandpa to Isaac: "What are the mountains made of?" Isaac to Grandpa: "Mountains are made of mountains. Duh."


Vacation rocks. What else is there to say?

Vacation

It's not like I blog daily, but just so you know, I am officially in vacation mode. We leave for British Columbia tomorrow morning and we won't be back for TWO WEEKS. Hooray! That's two weeks of hanging with family and friends, fishing, hiking, bumming it at the beach... Ooohhh, I get tingles just thinking about it. No computer, no writing, and, consequently, no blogging.

Adios. Have a wonderful two weeks.