Friends,
It's been nearly three months since I've posted--not because life has been dull, but because it has been very full, blessed, and trying all at once.
There is time to write on other matters later, but now I'm coming with two very special requests.
Please pray for my father who suffers a rare cancer and faces surgery next Tuesday, July 1. The procedure is complicated and my father is in a weakened condition. Simultaneously, we've learned that my mother suffers from advanced Alzheimer's and vascular dementia. She knows my father, but is often confused about the rest of us.
My siblings and I are spread across the USA and Europe, but we are taking turns going home to help care for them during these crises. It is a joy and a privilege to serve our parents in this way, though heartbreaking all the same.
I also ask that you please join me in signing a petition to the leaders of several southern African countries to intervene in the travesty taking place in Zimbabwe. You may sign online at
http://www.avaaz.org/en/save_zimbabwe/98.php?cl_tf_sign=1
Most of you know that I have personally traveled to Zimbabwe twice in the past two years to witness first-hand the suffering of men, women, and children under the dictatorship of Robert Mugabe. In recent weeks, a number of my Zimbabwean friends have confirmed the fear, danger, and turmoil that they live with daily as reported in the news coming out of their land. They are hungry, without medical resources, intimidated, harassed, and oppressed.
If you are unfamiliar with the situation in Zimbabwe, you will find good coverage at www.cnn.com. Check out this particular story:
http://edition.cnn.com/2008/WORLD/africa/06/25/zimbabwe.voices/index.html
Please consider signing the petition. It only takes a moment.
And thank you in advance for your prayers.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Friday, April 04, 2008
Let The People Pray
Please join me in praying for the people of Zimbabwe. Not for some nameless mass of humanity, but for my friends. My loved ones. For Washington, Alice, Keith, Bryan, Si, Kennedy, Godwin, Kuda, Peter, Dorcas, Penelope, Tendai, Emilee, Witness, Chipo, Chris, Pauline, Philip, Assan, Richard, Campion, Freddie, Joyce, and many others.
I've been closely following whatever news manages to trickle out of Zimbabwe prior to and since the presidential elections last Saturday, March 29. Mugabe, who twenty-eight years ago led a revolution and has remained in power with an ever-tightening, slowly-crushing grip, seems to have encountered an upset.
However, forbidding most foreign journalists (arresting some yesterday), delaying election results for nearly a week, and sending paramilitary to ransack opposition headquarters gives evidence to the rumors that Mugabe is once again up to his dirty tricks, trying to stay in power by whatever means he thinks will work. He's used violence and intimidation many times before.
That inflation is at 100,000 percent, unemployment is officially at 80 percent (much higher by more realistic estimates), life expectancy has dropped to 35 years, people are starving, nearly a third of the population has fled, and hope has nearly faded, he's convinced he's been good for the country. Or maybe being good for the country is the least of his goals.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,346068,00.html
I've been closely following whatever news manages to trickle out of Zimbabwe prior to and since the presidential elections last Saturday, March 29. Mugabe, who twenty-eight years ago led a revolution and has remained in power with an ever-tightening, slowly-crushing grip, seems to have encountered an upset.
However, forbidding most foreign journalists (arresting some yesterday), delaying election results for nearly a week, and sending paramilitary to ransack opposition headquarters gives evidence to the rumors that Mugabe is once again up to his dirty tricks, trying to stay in power by whatever means he thinks will work. He's used violence and intimidation many times before.
That inflation is at 100,000 percent, unemployment is officially at 80 percent (much higher by more realistic estimates), life expectancy has dropped to 35 years, people are starving, nearly a third of the population has fled, and hope has nearly faded, he's convinced he's been good for the country. Or maybe being good for the country is the least of his goals.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,346068,00.html
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Breakable
(*Song lyrics by Indie-pop artist Ingrid Michaelson)
Sometimes I’m astonished by how very fragile I am. How fragile we all are. How easily a word wounds, a look hurts, a cold shoulder upsets.
Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
I’ve vowed not to be overly sensitive, and for good reason. Hyper-sensitivity is the curse of self-centeredness. But still . . . we’re each so fragile.
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.
I have the power to build up and the power to tear down. And sometimes I wield that power carelessly. Thoughtlessly. Selfishly.
And we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys.
Is it any wonder Jesus tells us to love one another? To put one another’s interests above our own? To bear with each other, forgive one another, strengthen one another. To be devoted to one another, honor one another, accept one another. To be kind and compassionate to one another. Encourage one another. Love one another deeply.
Did I mention “love one another” more than once? Yes. So did He. Why? Because . . .
. . . we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys.
(To listen to “Breakable,” go to http://cdbaby.com/cd/michaelson3/from/ingridmichaelson)
Sometimes I’m astonished by how very fragile I am. How fragile we all are. How easily a word wounds, a look hurts, a cold shoulder upsets.
Have you ever thought about what protects our hearts?
Just a cage of rib bones and other various parts.
I’ve vowed not to be overly sensitive, and for good reason. Hyper-sensitivity is the curse of self-centeredness. But still . . . we’re each so fragile.
So it's fairly simple to cut right through the mess,
And to stop the muscle that makes us confess.
I have the power to build up and the power to tear down. And sometimes I wield that power carelessly. Thoughtlessly. Selfishly.
And we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys.
Is it any wonder Jesus tells us to love one another? To put one another’s interests above our own? To bear with each other, forgive one another, strengthen one another. To be devoted to one another, honor one another, accept one another. To be kind and compassionate to one another. Encourage one another. Love one another deeply.
Did I mention “love one another” more than once? Yes. So did He. Why? Because . . .
. . . we are so fragile,
And our cracking bones make noise,
And we are just
Breakable, breakable, breakable girls and boys.
(To listen to “Breakable,” go to http://cdbaby.com/cd/michaelson3/from/ingridmichaelson)
Saturday, March 08, 2008
A Work in Progress
A WORK IN PROGRESS is not only the name of my new writing blog, but the title of the novel I'm currently working on, and an accurate description of my writing journey.
You can find my writing blog at: http://caronguilloswriting.blogspot.com/
I hope you'll check in often for updates, excerpts, behind-the-scenes glimpses into my stories and characters, thoughts on writing, and "First line I wrote today" posts.
There's also a survey on the new blog (below the "About Me" section on the right sidebar), so let me know what you think. You can leave comments on my posts over there, too, so I'd love to hear from you whether you're an established writer, a beginner, an avid reader, one of my faithful cheerleaders, or simply a curious bystander.
Of course, I'll still be sharing my heart here at On This Journey, so don't go away!
You can find my writing blog at: http://caronguilloswriting.blogspot.com/
I hope you'll check in often for updates, excerpts, behind-the-scenes glimpses into my stories and characters, thoughts on writing, and "First line I wrote today" posts.
There's also a survey on the new blog (below the "About Me" section on the right sidebar), so let me know what you think. You can leave comments on my posts over there, too, so I'd love to hear from you whether you're an established writer, a beginner, an avid reader, one of my faithful cheerleaders, or simply a curious bystander.
Of course, I'll still be sharing my heart here at On This Journey, so don't go away!
Monday, March 03, 2008
I'm Out
Well, I didn't make the Top 10 Finalist cut in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award competition, but I'm thrilled for the ones who did and eager to see what happens next.
To see the finalist entries, go to http://www.amazon.com/b/ref=gw_cto_abna?ie=UTF8&node=332264011&pf_rd_p=369140101&pf_rd_s=left-nav-2&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_i=507846&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0JX82YDT4R39TR7FEZKC
I can't wait to read and review their excerpts!
By the way, you can view an extended excerpt of my entry at the independent ABNAbooks.com site.
http://abnabooks.com/page6/page11/page11.html
You can also rate and review it. No awards in the offing, but I'd love to hear what you think.
To see the finalist entries, go to http://www.amazon.com/b/ref=gw_cto_abna?ie=UTF8&node=332264011&pf_rd_p=369140101&pf_rd_s=left-nav-2&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_i=507846&pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_r=0JX82YDT4R39TR7FEZKC
I can't wait to read and review their excerpts!
By the way, you can view an extended excerpt of my entry at the independent ABNAbooks.com site.
http://abnabooks.com/page6/page11/page11.html
You can also rate and review it. No awards in the offing, but I'd love to hear what you think.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Our Privilege
Several days ago I passed one of my 117 students as I drove home from school. We both pulled to a stop light—I in my Toyota, he on his bicycle—and waited our turn to cross the busy intersection. I guessed from the dashboard clock that he’d gone to tutorials or served detention or stopped over at a friend’s house before heading home. The student didn’t realize it was me, or at least pretended not to, but I couldn’t help watching him while we waited.
This particular boy is the sort of freckle-faced kid who’s pretty good in math, but more interested in being a clown in the classroom. From time to time, I grind my teeth over him, but we get on all right for despite his efforts, he’s not a very successful comedian.
Seeing him there cast him in a different light. Daylight, actually, for I teach in a windowless, basement classroom. But more than that. I’d forgotten how small he is until I saw him in contrast to the cars rushing by, buildings and trees and lampposts dwarfing him, wide blue sky curving overhead. I thought about how hard he tries to gain attention and acceptance from his peers—not unusual in middle school—and about how often I raise one eyebrow at him.
My heart was overwhelmed by compassion for this kid trying to find himself and his way in the world. I regretted the times I’ve felt frustrated by him; felt anything less than the love of Jesus for him.
I said out loud, “He deserves to be loved. Everyone deserves to be loved.”
Just then, two men with backpacks and dirty clothes crossed the street in front of us, and as clearly as if He’d spoken out loud, God reminded me, “Everyone is.”
Now I have no way of judging whether the three people in my line of vision know the love of man or God, but tears gathered in my eyes because for a split second, I felt the crushing grief of all the people in this world who feel unloved. Had it lasted longer than a heartbeat, the pain would have been unbearable. At the same time, my heart was pierced deeply by how many men, women, and children have yet to experience the overwhelming and unconditional love of their Father.
It’s our job, you know, to tell them. To show them. To live the love of God in Christ Jesus among them. To experience it fully in our own lives.
It’s our privilege, but we forget that. We forget to see people the way Jesus sees them. Forget that our loving relationship with the Creator of heaven and earth is something most people can't fathom. That it comes with a responsibility to every living person.
But I'm glad He reminded me.
This particular boy is the sort of freckle-faced kid who’s pretty good in math, but more interested in being a clown in the classroom. From time to time, I grind my teeth over him, but we get on all right for despite his efforts, he’s not a very successful comedian.
Seeing him there cast him in a different light. Daylight, actually, for I teach in a windowless, basement classroom. But more than that. I’d forgotten how small he is until I saw him in contrast to the cars rushing by, buildings and trees and lampposts dwarfing him, wide blue sky curving overhead. I thought about how hard he tries to gain attention and acceptance from his peers—not unusual in middle school—and about how often I raise one eyebrow at him.
My heart was overwhelmed by compassion for this kid trying to find himself and his way in the world. I regretted the times I’ve felt frustrated by him; felt anything less than the love of Jesus for him.
I said out loud, “He deserves to be loved. Everyone deserves to be loved.”
Just then, two men with backpacks and dirty clothes crossed the street in front of us, and as clearly as if He’d spoken out loud, God reminded me, “Everyone is.”
Now I have no way of judging whether the three people in my line of vision know the love of man or God, but tears gathered in my eyes because for a split second, I felt the crushing grief of all the people in this world who feel unloved. Had it lasted longer than a heartbeat, the pain would have been unbearable. At the same time, my heart was pierced deeply by how many men, women, and children have yet to experience the overwhelming and unconditional love of their Father.
It’s our job, you know, to tell them. To show them. To live the love of God in Christ Jesus among them. To experience it fully in our own lives.
It’s our privilege, but we forget that. We forget to see people the way Jesus sees them. Forget that our loving relationship with the Creator of heaven and earth is something most people can't fathom. That it comes with a responsibility to every living person.
But I'm glad He reminded me.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Press Release
Some of you might be interested in today's press release about the ABNA contest on Forbes.com
http://www.forbes.com/prnewswire/feeds/prnewswire/2008/02/19/prnewswire200802191514PR_NEWS_USPR_____NYTU122.html
. . . or that might be just me. :)
http://www.forbes.com/prnewswire/feeds/prnewswire/2008/02/19/prnewswire200802191514PR_NEWS_USPR_____NYTU122.html
. . . or that might be just me. :)
I MADE TOP 100!!!
Just discovered my novel "Children of Light" made the top 100 cut in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest (out of 5,000 world wide entries)! If you could possibly help me out by posting a review (or commenting on someone else's review), I'd appreciate it. You must be an Amazon customer to review or comment, but anyone can visit my profile and download an excerpt (for free) at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00124COPM
Thanks friends!
Thanks friends!
Saturday, February 16, 2008
An Invitation
Hey friends,
Want to know why I wrote "Children of Light," an Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award semifinalist? Go to http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00124COPM and scroll down to my latest blog post.
Want to know why I wrote "Children of Light," an Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award semifinalist? Go to http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00124COPM and scroll down to my latest blog post.
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Haggling Over the Cost
I was reading about the cost of discipleship in the gospel of Luke this morning, and I feel foolish.
Just the other day I felt a bit sorry for myself, enumerating in my mind what this mission of ours has cost in terms of relationships, primarily. I actually said to God, "I had no idea it would cost this much." The financial aspect I can live with, money being such a fickle part of life anyway. But by calling and choice we’ve stepped outside the comfort of our established relationships and started over.
Yet even as I whined, I couldn’t help seeing God’s wisdom in putting us through this specific training module. What in the world did I think would happen when we move to a large metropolitan area in another eighteen months and instead of joining an established church with a ready-made family, we start living the life of Christ in the midst of those who don’t yet know him?
Jesus said, "Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple." That particular cross is not simply some trial or tribulation—we all have plenty of those forced on us by the nature of things—it’s the cross on which we voluntarily crucify our own plans, desires, and self-will for that of God’s.
In a reading last week, Oswald Chambers questioned, " . . .do you say, 'I am not willing to be poured out right now, and I don’t want God to tell me how to serve Him. I want to choose the place of my own sacrifice. And I want to have certain people watching me and saying, Well done.'"
Well, yes. Sometimes I do.
But here’s another truth: there is nothing I must give up that compares to knowing Jesus and being transformed into his likeness. Nothing so sweet as volunteering to be sent and having Jesus push me out of the nest and into the hearts of people who need him.
I’m stronger now for my wrestling with discipleship self-pity. Wrestling with it and winning by the power of the Spirit at work in me. If this is what it costs, so be it. I’m not haggling anymore, for I’ve gotten the better end of the deal no matter how you slice it.
Just the other day I felt a bit sorry for myself, enumerating in my mind what this mission of ours has cost in terms of relationships, primarily. I actually said to God, "I had no idea it would cost this much." The financial aspect I can live with, money being such a fickle part of life anyway. But by calling and choice we’ve stepped outside the comfort of our established relationships and started over.
Yet even as I whined, I couldn’t help seeing God’s wisdom in putting us through this specific training module. What in the world did I think would happen when we move to a large metropolitan area in another eighteen months and instead of joining an established church with a ready-made family, we start living the life of Christ in the midst of those who don’t yet know him?
Jesus said, "Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple." That particular cross is not simply some trial or tribulation—we all have plenty of those forced on us by the nature of things—it’s the cross on which we voluntarily crucify our own plans, desires, and self-will for that of God’s.
In a reading last week, Oswald Chambers questioned, " . . .do you say, 'I am not willing to be poured out right now, and I don’t want God to tell me how to serve Him. I want to choose the place of my own sacrifice. And I want to have certain people watching me and saying, Well done.'"
Well, yes. Sometimes I do.
But here’s another truth: there is nothing I must give up that compares to knowing Jesus and being transformed into his likeness. Nothing so sweet as volunteering to be sent and having Jesus push me out of the nest and into the hearts of people who need him.
I’m stronger now for my wrestling with discipleship self-pity. Wrestling with it and winning by the power of the Spirit at work in me. If this is what it costs, so be it. I’m not haggling anymore, for I’ve gotten the better end of the deal no matter how you slice it.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Self-Esteem, Schmelf-esteem
I’ve decided that self-esteem isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I mean, seriously, look at how fragile it is. How quickly it dissolves into an insecure mess, giving up its strength at the smallest hint of criticism. Felled like the giant-above-the-beanstalk by the absence of just one hoped-for affirmation. One phone call that never comes. One ignored email. One day of obscurity.
Or maybe that’s just my self-esteem.
I recently entered a novel of mine in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest and made it to the semi-finals. Okay, so did 846 other people, but it’s a move in the right direction. Anyway, I received very nice reviews by Publisher’s Weekly and two of Amazon’s top reviewers as well as some others. But two or three mediocre reviews really got under my skin. I went to bed early after reading one of them, convinced I’m a terrible writer with no business letting anybody read my stuff. Good-bye self-esteem; you’ve been edited.
I have a friend that was twice supposed to let me know when we could meet for lunch. I never heard from her again. Ciao self-esteem; you’ve been dropped.
I shared some exciting news with someone. They replied with a lukewarm “how nice.” Au revoir, self-esteem; you’ve been boring.
I had something important to say in a conversation in which it was impossible to get a word in edgewise. Adios, self-esteem; you’ve been silenced.
I know better. I really do. I spent a couple of years wrestling with adolescent-style insecurity and finally realized the only ticket out of that mud pit was to put my confidence not in myself or in the favor of others, but in God alone. Call it God-esteem. But every now and then I forget.
So, I’ve decided I want to get rid of my self-esteem entirely. It’s a fickle, demanding, mean-hearted lover with serious control issues. Enough navel-gazing. Enough hurt feelings. Enough measuring myself against people who appear to be more successful, more beautiful, more interesting.
Sayonara self-esteem. You’ve been kamikaze-ed.
Or maybe that’s just my self-esteem.
I recently entered a novel of mine in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest and made it to the semi-finals. Okay, so did 846 other people, but it’s a move in the right direction. Anyway, I received very nice reviews by Publisher’s Weekly and two of Amazon’s top reviewers as well as some others. But two or three mediocre reviews really got under my skin. I went to bed early after reading one of them, convinced I’m a terrible writer with no business letting anybody read my stuff. Good-bye self-esteem; you’ve been edited.
I have a friend that was twice supposed to let me know when we could meet for lunch. I never heard from her again. Ciao self-esteem; you’ve been dropped.
I shared some exciting news with someone. They replied with a lukewarm “how nice.” Au revoir, self-esteem; you’ve been boring.
I had something important to say in a conversation in which it was impossible to get a word in edgewise. Adios, self-esteem; you’ve been silenced.
I know better. I really do. I spent a couple of years wrestling with adolescent-style insecurity and finally realized the only ticket out of that mud pit was to put my confidence not in myself or in the favor of others, but in God alone. Call it God-esteem. But every now and then I forget.
So, I’ve decided I want to get rid of my self-esteem entirely. It’s a fickle, demanding, mean-hearted lover with serious control issues. Enough navel-gazing. Enough hurt feelings. Enough measuring myself against people who appear to be more successful, more beautiful, more interesting.
Sayonara self-esteem. You’ve been kamikaze-ed.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Semi-Finalist!
Out of 5,000 world-wide entrants, my historical novel "Children of Light" is among fewer than 1,000 semi-finalists as judged by Publisher's Weekly! The farther along I move in the contest, the more professional feedback I get. Of course, if I actually win first place, my novel will be published by Penguin Books. But the exposure and feedback will be very valuable for me. You can help me by reading and reviewing a 5,000 word excerpt of my novel at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00124COPM.
PLEASE HELP ME BY PASSING THIS ALONG TO YOUR FRIENDS!
You'll need an Amazon account (free) before you download the excerpt (for free).
Here are a few points to remember:
* When you read excerpts from the semifinalists and post reviews, you’ll be in the running to win a prize package (including an Amazon Kindle, a $2,000 Amazon.com gift certificate, and an HP photo printer) for providing the most--and the most high-quality--reviews.
* Read and review by mid-February so I can make it to the next round.
* On the link above, my novel is listed as "Romance" but can be found elsewhere as "Historical." I'm not going to squabble over the mixed labeling issue. :)
(Tips for reviewers from Amazon:)
• Be persuasive. Experts at Penguin will be relying on customer reviews as they prepare to select the finalists, so don't hesitate to tell us what you really think. The reviews that provide the most thorough, thoughtful feedback are the ones that will help Penguin choose the Top Ten.
• Quantity and quality help. The more reviews you write, and the more helpful each review is, the more likely you are to win one of our three prize packages.
• Discuss. As with customer reviews for all our products, you can comment on others' excerpt reviews and rate them. Any discussion and activity we see around specific titles will only keep us coming back for more, so feel free to speak up and banter with your peers.
• One quick heads-up: Per the contest rules, every excerpt is a maximum of 5,000 words in length. As a result, you may find that excerpts vary in length or end unexpectedly. Consider yourself warned--and happy reading!
Thanks friends! Caron
PLEASE HELP ME BY PASSING THIS ALONG TO YOUR FRIENDS!
You'll need an Amazon account (free) before you download the excerpt (for free).
Here are a few points to remember:
* When you read excerpts from the semifinalists and post reviews, you’ll be in the running to win a prize package (including an Amazon Kindle, a $2,000 Amazon.com gift certificate, and an HP photo printer) for providing the most--and the most high-quality--reviews.
* Read and review by mid-February so I can make it to the next round.
* On the link above, my novel is listed as "Romance" but can be found elsewhere as "Historical." I'm not going to squabble over the mixed labeling issue. :)
(Tips for reviewers from Amazon:)
• Be persuasive. Experts at Penguin will be relying on customer reviews as they prepare to select the finalists, so don't hesitate to tell us what you really think. The reviews that provide the most thorough, thoughtful feedback are the ones that will help Penguin choose the Top Ten.
• Quantity and quality help. The more reviews you write, and the more helpful each review is, the more likely you are to win one of our three prize packages.
• Discuss. As with customer reviews for all our products, you can comment on others' excerpt reviews and rate them. Any discussion and activity we see around specific titles will only keep us coming back for more, so feel free to speak up and banter with your peers.
• One quick heads-up: Per the contest rules, every excerpt is a maximum of 5,000 words in length. As a result, you may find that excerpts vary in length or end unexpectedly. Consider yourself warned--and happy reading!
Thanks friends! Caron
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Charlie Brown Christmas
Our family follows my husband's tradition of decorating our Christmas tree on Christmas eve. We usually purchase a live tree just a day or two before Christmas. In recent years, we've managed to find great buys on full, gorgeous, 10-11 foot trees that would normally be far out of our price range earlier in the season.
But this year we sold our home with its spacious and vaulted living room and moved into a small duplex while my husband's back in school full time. We knew we would have to go with a much smaller tree this holiday.
As timing would have it, our first-born son was married in a city ten hours away ten days ago, and the past week was hectic with end of semester demands on my time as a teacher, and we still had most of our Christmas shopping to do, and then we had a bitterly cold and snowy Saturday, and well . . . we forgot to shop for the tree until Christmas eve day. Our local nurseries were closed. By the time we found a dead tree at WalMart and another pitiful casualty at Lowes Hardware, we had decided to finish our other shopping and just pull out the old artificial standby from the garage later.
Of course, that would be the single-car-garage-turned-storage-unit that holds everything we didn't sell or give away during the down-sizing last August. Turns out the Christmas tree box is THE foundation upon which sits every other box, mattress, or piece of furniture in our garage. If we could somehow manage to pull it out--most likely a physical impossibility--the whole Jenga tower would come crashing down.
We discovered this at 6 pm. My husband and youngest son made a mad dash to the stores for another artificial tree. They were all closed except for a grocery store with a small floral department--and they were pulling the gates shut on even that. Bob grabbed a holiday decoration that most closely resembles a two-by-four with green fuzzies on it, but--for the uneducated--is really a four-foot-tall Charlie Brown Christmas tree.
Our college-aged daughter laughed/cried when she got home from her job at the mall. 
Then she and our sulking thirteen-year-old Caleb strung it with a very short strand of lights. We apologized profusely to the kids--the tree playing such a key role in our Christmas eve tradition. Then we turned on the Christmas music, poured up the non-alcoholic eggnog, began to laugh together, decked the thing out with this year's ornaments and Caleb's keepsakes, loaded it with tinsel, and realized it didn't matter too much after all. Took us two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, total.
Then she and our sulking thirteen-year-old Caleb strung it with a very short strand of lights. We apologized profusely to the kids--the tree playing such a key role in our Christmas eve tradition. Then we turned on the Christmas music, poured up the non-alcoholic eggnog, began to laugh together, decked the thing out with this year's ornaments and Caleb's keepsakes, loaded it with tinsel, and realized it didn't matter too much after all. Took us two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, total. 
Family, love, laughter, and forgiveness triumphed. And, therefore, so did the spirit of this holiday season.
God bless you, loved ones!
Monday, December 24, 2007
The Unlearning Curve
For those of you who don’t know it, Bob and I have moved. We’re living in a foreign country, learning a new language, immersing ourselves in an unfamiliar culture, dealing with culture-shock at times, starting from scratch as we build relationships with the strangers that surround us, trying to find our way among a people whose mores and unwritten rules are confusing and awkward for us at best.
Oh, we’re still in Amarillo. We’ve simply stepped out of traditional Christian culture and fulltime ministry, and into the realm of the unreached. At the very least, it’s been mindboggling. In fact, one of my friends who’s experiencing something similar calls it the “unlearning curve.”
In essence, God has stripped away what I thought I knew about ministry, my own heart, those outside of Christ, Christian culture and its place in the world, missions, and church. Just yesterday I told our small home fellowship that I feel like I have nothing to hold onto anymore except God.
I suspect that’s where He wants me.
And to be sure, one of the only things He hasn’t “undone” has been the truths I know about Him.
Yes, the weak, human side of me would love to tell my family and friends about the wild success the Lord has given us in reaching the lost for Christ. But the truth of the matter is that while we still feel confident we’ve been called to serve as missionaries in our own culture, we’re realizing that the Father has some serious work to do in our own hearts and minds first. Honestly, we had no idea what He was calling us to and the depth to which He would ask us to invest in His mission. We just knew there was a fire in our bones, and that we had to answer the call.
Don’t get me wrong--we’re not miserable or even unhappy. We’re certainly humbled. Impatient. Stretched. Oddly experiencing a level of peace in the midst of all this. Constantly asking the Lord, “Well, okay. If not this or that, then what? If not yet, when? If not them, who? If not here, where?” We probably just need to shut up and listen.
Please pray we’ll keep our hearts and minds open to what God wants to tear down and build up in us. Pray that we’ll not grow weary or discouraged before His work is finished. That we’ll pursue Him single-mindedly, not worrying about what people think of us or “where we should be by now.” That we’ll trust Him whether He moves us forward or back; whether we’re in the process of learning or unlearning.
Oh, we’re still in Amarillo. We’ve simply stepped out of traditional Christian culture and fulltime ministry, and into the realm of the unreached. At the very least, it’s been mindboggling. In fact, one of my friends who’s experiencing something similar calls it the “unlearning curve.”
In essence, God has stripped away what I thought I knew about ministry, my own heart, those outside of Christ, Christian culture and its place in the world, missions, and church. Just yesterday I told our small home fellowship that I feel like I have nothing to hold onto anymore except God.
I suspect that’s where He wants me.
And to be sure, one of the only things He hasn’t “undone” has been the truths I know about Him.
Yes, the weak, human side of me would love to tell my family and friends about the wild success the Lord has given us in reaching the lost for Christ. But the truth of the matter is that while we still feel confident we’ve been called to serve as missionaries in our own culture, we’re realizing that the Father has some serious work to do in our own hearts and minds first. Honestly, we had no idea what He was calling us to and the depth to which He would ask us to invest in His mission. We just knew there was a fire in our bones, and that we had to answer the call.
Don’t get me wrong--we’re not miserable or even unhappy. We’re certainly humbled. Impatient. Stretched. Oddly experiencing a level of peace in the midst of all this. Constantly asking the Lord, “Well, okay. If not this or that, then what? If not yet, when? If not them, who? If not here, where?” We probably just need to shut up and listen.
Please pray we’ll keep our hearts and minds open to what God wants to tear down and build up in us. Pray that we’ll not grow weary or discouraged before His work is finished. That we’ll pursue Him single-mindedly, not worrying about what people think of us or “where we should be by now.” That we’ll trust Him whether He moves us forward or back; whether we’re in the process of learning or unlearning.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Seeking the Heart of Jesus
I’ve been blessed to be in fellowship with some Christian brothers who’ve taught me a lot about reading Scripture to find Christ, rather than reading Scripture to find rules or church structure. While we can certainly discern how to live and organize our corporate gatherings by reading the Bible, we don’t find eternal life in those things. We find life in Christ alone. I’m learning to read Scripture to discover who Jesus is, who I’m to become, and what God wants to do in me. And somehow—as I’m shaped more and more into the image of Christ—a lot of those other questions are answered as well.
So this morning when I was reading Luke’s version about Jesus sending out the Twelve and afterward feeding the five thousand, I was struck by Jesus’ heart. He sent the Twelve out to preach the kingdom of God and heal the sick. When they came back, he took them and withdrew to Bethsaida. Word got out and they were overrun by the crowds. So Jesus welcomed the masses, likewise speaking to them about the kingdom of God and healing the sick. When the Twelve told him to send the people away to get something to eat, he told them to feed the people themselves. You know what happens next.
Here’s what hit me: To Jesus, healing the sick and feeding the hungry was an integral part of preaching the kingdom of God. No big surprise there, but I wondered if the apostles were more interested in preaching than in ministering. I wondered why there seemed to be a disconnect between their ability to cure diseases (and drive out demons) and their willingness to feed the people. Maybe they were tired. Maybe they never considered that they could—through Jesus—multiply food. I wondered if after preaching from village to village they were ready for a break and a bit resentful that they didn’t get one.
All those questions, but I really couldn’t find strong evidence in this passage to support my line of thinking.
And then it occurred to me that my questions had revealed the weakness of my own heart. That maybe sometimes I’m more interested in “preaching” than in ministering. That there’s a disconnect between what God has empowered me to do and what I’m willing to do. That sometimes I let my energy level dictate my ministry. Or that I can't even imagine what God wants to do through me. That sometimes I’m ready for a break and a bit resentful when I don’t get one.
I confessed all this to God, and now I’m confessing it to you. I want to have a heart that can’t separate the message from the ministry. A heart that always welcomes the people around me. A heart that isn't too timid to entertain the possibilities of God's redemptive power. I want to have the heart of Jesus.
So this morning when I was reading Luke’s version about Jesus sending out the Twelve and afterward feeding the five thousand, I was struck by Jesus’ heart. He sent the Twelve out to preach the kingdom of God and heal the sick. When they came back, he took them and withdrew to Bethsaida. Word got out and they were overrun by the crowds. So Jesus welcomed the masses, likewise speaking to them about the kingdom of God and healing the sick. When the Twelve told him to send the people away to get something to eat, he told them to feed the people themselves. You know what happens next.
Here’s what hit me: To Jesus, healing the sick and feeding the hungry was an integral part of preaching the kingdom of God. No big surprise there, but I wondered if the apostles were more interested in preaching than in ministering. I wondered why there seemed to be a disconnect between their ability to cure diseases (and drive out demons) and their willingness to feed the people. Maybe they were tired. Maybe they never considered that they could—through Jesus—multiply food. I wondered if after preaching from village to village they were ready for a break and a bit resentful that they didn’t get one.
All those questions, but I really couldn’t find strong evidence in this passage to support my line of thinking.
And then it occurred to me that my questions had revealed the weakness of my own heart. That maybe sometimes I’m more interested in “preaching” than in ministering. That there’s a disconnect between what God has empowered me to do and what I’m willing to do. That sometimes I let my energy level dictate my ministry. Or that I can't even imagine what God wants to do through me. That sometimes I’m ready for a break and a bit resentful when I don’t get one.
I confessed all this to God, and now I’m confessing it to you. I want to have a heart that can’t separate the message from the ministry. A heart that always welcomes the people around me. A heart that isn't too timid to entertain the possibilities of God's redemptive power. I want to have the heart of Jesus.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture
You might be interested in a radio interview with my new Shoutlife.com friend, author Mary DeMuth, on the subject of parenting in a postmodern culture. The interview and her recent book are largely based on her church planting experiences in southern France--a generally secular and atheistic culture. You can tune in online at Moody Midday Connection (http://www.mbn.org/GenMoody/default.asp?SectionID=BF789E22FCAE4F7EBEFACD2AC725BDA2). Click the link for Nov. 13, Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture.
You can also order Mary's book at:
http://www.amazon.com/Authentic-Parenting-Postmodern-Culture-Practical/dp/0736918620/ref=sr_1_1/103-7898786-1018205?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176385630&sr=8-1
You can also order Mary's book at:
http://www.amazon.com/Authentic-Parenting-Postmodern-Culture-Practical/dp/0736918620/ref=sr_1_1/103-7898786-1018205?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1176385630&sr=8-1
Some Days
Some days what we are doing feels so slow-going . . . even insignificant. —church planter Jared Looney of the Bronx Fellowship, from an email I received this morning
I needed to read that today. Needed to discern a little bit of the melancholy in Jared’s full email. Not because I want this friend and mentor of ours to ever be the least bit discouraged, but because I find myself a wee bit discouraged this week.
Of course my discouragement is not quite so noble as the feeling I might get because we're not seeing rapid progress in the network of home churches we’ve planted . . . because we haven’t planted a network of home churches, though God-willing we’ll do so in his timing.
I suppose what I’m feeling is rooted in loneliness. Right now, we’re between two worlds: not fully enjoying the familiar comforts of our Christian culture, and not yet established enough in the kinds of relationships that make the sacrifice seem worthwhile. In Jared’s words, we’re intent on being the kind of missionaries that move “into the high rise in Tokyo or into the village in Kenya, that [live] among the people and incarnate the Gospel there through relationships. But in this case . . . [we’re] simply moving out into relationship in a lost world right here among the broken and the blind in the U.S.A.”
I can live with that. In fact, we’ve chosen to obey God’s call to do this very thing. Some days I’m giddy with the possibilities of what God’s asked of us. And some days I’m lonely in this calling.
Some days, I need emails like Jared’s. Emails that remind me that no matter how I feel . . .
. . . We are following a missionary Lord and participating with Him in the work of redemption.
. . . Mission and incarnation is certainly not a place of comfort or safety, but the impact of a missionary people is immeasurable.
. . . Generations will be set free as we persist in serving the cause of Christ in our city.
Some days I need more prayers than other days.
I needed to read that today. Needed to discern a little bit of the melancholy in Jared’s full email. Not because I want this friend and mentor of ours to ever be the least bit discouraged, but because I find myself a wee bit discouraged this week.
Of course my discouragement is not quite so noble as the feeling I might get because we're not seeing rapid progress in the network of home churches we’ve planted . . . because we haven’t planted a network of home churches, though God-willing we’ll do so in his timing.
I suppose what I’m feeling is rooted in loneliness. Right now, we’re between two worlds: not fully enjoying the familiar comforts of our Christian culture, and not yet established enough in the kinds of relationships that make the sacrifice seem worthwhile. In Jared’s words, we’re intent on being the kind of missionaries that move “into the high rise in Tokyo or into the village in Kenya, that [live] among the people and incarnate the Gospel there through relationships. But in this case . . . [we’re] simply moving out into relationship in a lost world right here among the broken and the blind in the U.S.A.”
I can live with that. In fact, we’ve chosen to obey God’s call to do this very thing. Some days I’m giddy with the possibilities of what God’s asked of us. And some days I’m lonely in this calling.
Some days, I need emails like Jared’s. Emails that remind me that no matter how I feel . . .
. . . We are following a missionary Lord and participating with Him in the work of redemption.
. . . Mission and incarnation is certainly not a place of comfort or safety, but the impact of a missionary people is immeasurable.
. . . Generations will be set free as we persist in serving the cause of Christ in our city.
Some days I need more prayers than other days.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
www.shoutlife.com/caronguillo
Hey, loved ones . . . It's not exactly a website, but I'd love for you to visit my profile on Shoutlife. Shoutlife is a networking site that anyone can join, however, it caters to Christian authors, musicians, comedians, etc. I stumbled upon it through my agent, Terry Burns. You have to sign up if you want to view my photos or make comments, but if you do, be sure to leave a message in my guestbook. I'd love to hear from you there!
Loving Much
Lately I've been pondering the story in Luke of the woman who washed Jesus' feet with her tears. In my heart of hearts, I both admire and am shocked by her humility. Seriously, can you picture anyone doing such a thing today? I want to have that kind of attitude toward Jesus, but I'm more like the Pharisee than I want to admit.
You see, I was probably in my mid-thirties before I really believed I had all that much to be forgiven of. I knew I wasn’t perfect, but I was pretty sure I must have been one of God’s favorites. After all, I was a compliant kid. I’d never lived a wild life. I was nice.
But then I started asking God to reveal my sin to me. Ouch.
To be honest, though, I can’t thank him enough for humbling me by doing so. When I finally began to realize the extent of my hopelessness without him, I began to truly belong to him. I mean, right there in that same passage in Luke, Jesus said, “He who has been forgiven little, loves little. He who has been forgiven much, loves much.”
Of course the truth is that we are all hopelessly sinful without Christ. We just don’t always realize it. And until we realize it, we love little.
It’s that simple.
You see, I was probably in my mid-thirties before I really believed I had all that much to be forgiven of. I knew I wasn’t perfect, but I was pretty sure I must have been one of God’s favorites. After all, I was a compliant kid. I’d never lived a wild life. I was nice.
But then I started asking God to reveal my sin to me. Ouch.
To be honest, though, I can’t thank him enough for humbling me by doing so. When I finally began to realize the extent of my hopelessness without him, I began to truly belong to him. I mean, right there in that same passage in Luke, Jesus said, “He who has been forgiven little, loves little. He who has been forgiven much, loves much.”
Of course the truth is that we are all hopelessly sinful without Christ. We just don’t always realize it. And until we realize it, we love little.
It’s that simple.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Spirituality
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness. —Eph. 4:22-24
In the context of our conversation yesterday, my husband asked me a question that really started me thinking. He asked, “Who is the most spiritual person you know?”
After some deliberation, I offered two names. Then he told me who he considered the most spiritual. To be honest, at first I was a bit taken back with his choice.
You see, my husband and I were using different criteria to answer the question. My response was based on two people who, by their language and demeanor, communicate a deep spirituality. Whether or not their lives truly measure up—and they really seem to—is another matter and one only our perfect and grace-giving God can judge. Despite the direction of our conversation, I really don’t want to try to discern that.
But my husband’s answer was based on who he knows that most exhibits transformation.
I was still thinking about that conversation as I got ready for work this morning. And as I put my plate in the dishwasher after the great dinner my husband made tonight. No, I didn’t continue to ponder who, indeed, is the most spiritual person I know. Those kinds of questions are really rather dangerous if dwelled on too long, leading to all sorts of judgments and comparisons and other foolishness.
What really stirred my thoughts and chastised my heart was the fact that I didn’t link transformation to spirituality. Maybe I would have gotten there eventually, but the point is that I didn’t get there immediately.
And me, with all my talk about transformation.
I love that my husband quite confidently and simply boiled spirituality down to a transformed life. There’s something to be argued about that. I mean, what’s the difference if I read all the right books or know how to pray good prayers or can teach publically or visit orphan feeding centers or manage to win people to Christ if I’m not putting off my old self and becoming like Jesus?
How much more spiritual can you be than to become like God in true righteousness and holiness?
Using that criteria alone, I pray that someday I’ll be able to answer my husband’s question: “Who’s the most spiritual person you know?” with one short, truthful answer and in absolute humility: “Me.”
In the context of our conversation yesterday, my husband asked me a question that really started me thinking. He asked, “Who is the most spiritual person you know?”
After some deliberation, I offered two names. Then he told me who he considered the most spiritual. To be honest, at first I was a bit taken back with his choice.
You see, my husband and I were using different criteria to answer the question. My response was based on two people who, by their language and demeanor, communicate a deep spirituality. Whether or not their lives truly measure up—and they really seem to—is another matter and one only our perfect and grace-giving God can judge. Despite the direction of our conversation, I really don’t want to try to discern that.
But my husband’s answer was based on who he knows that most exhibits transformation.
I was still thinking about that conversation as I got ready for work this morning. And as I put my plate in the dishwasher after the great dinner my husband made tonight. No, I didn’t continue to ponder who, indeed, is the most spiritual person I know. Those kinds of questions are really rather dangerous if dwelled on too long, leading to all sorts of judgments and comparisons and other foolishness.
What really stirred my thoughts and chastised my heart was the fact that I didn’t link transformation to spirituality. Maybe I would have gotten there eventually, but the point is that I didn’t get there immediately.
And me, with all my talk about transformation.
I love that my husband quite confidently and simply boiled spirituality down to a transformed life. There’s something to be argued about that. I mean, what’s the difference if I read all the right books or know how to pray good prayers or can teach publically or visit orphan feeding centers or manage to win people to Christ if I’m not putting off my old self and becoming like Jesus?
How much more spiritual can you be than to become like God in true righteousness and holiness?
Using that criteria alone, I pray that someday I’ll be able to answer my husband’s question: “Who’s the most spiritual person you know?” with one short, truthful answer and in absolute humility: “Me.”
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