Tag Archives: courage

YEP

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Last year, I attempted to assign one word each month to explore for the entirety of 2023. It was a fascinating experiment that alerted me to things I wouldn’t normally have seen. But somewhere around late summer, family and work life got so demanding that instead of picking the words myself, the words picked me: too busy, more day job, less sleep, less writing, and so on until I didn’t even have time or energy to type I need a vacation into my laptop.

I should have known better. I’m not made for formula. Organization was not written into my DNA in neat little rows, but splattered in various shades of color. In fact, while trying to make writing into a more prolific career, I’ve found that if the experts say to do something a certain way, I should instead turn around and draw from my well of creative splatter because if everyone else is doing “it” it’s darn well not going to work for me. I’ve wasted so many years not being true to my design. Which brings me to 2024.

–Alexas_Fotos



I’m going to be true to myself. I will not wear fake nails. I will only lend an ear to influencers who are excellent in their craft, not because they’re excellent at selling it. I will wear whatever weird clothes I want to. I will NOT join the PTA and will hold my head high (please quit asking, it’s not going to happen), I will do what I believe is right even if it gets me fired/laughed at/cancelled, and I will not write stories to appease political/cultural bullies. I will not apologize for following Jesus.

I will expect interruptions. I will pay attention to what’s true to the best of my ability.

The last several years have not only proven that powers beyond our control may throw our world upside down, but that we have been pressured to forgo critical thinking. Fear leads us. Money leads us. In truth, we have not progressed. I realize that statement is controversial, but we’re not exactly making head-scratchingly brilliantly-crafted pyramids with our bare hands anymore, are we? We quit picking on one ethnic group to pick on a different one. And every time, the accusing party thinks they’re in the right. Ladies…do you feel confused about certain issues that are labeled as progress? Why do we keep going around in circles?

So, I’m going to cut down on all the noise I can so I can think. Most importantly, I’m not going be a soggy follower. There is always room to rise. It takes a certain amount of courage to go against the flow, and courage can’t come from charisma or good sales records—it comes from being true to your calling. Think of Deborah and Jael (The Bible, Judges 4 and 5) who were risen up by God when the leadership of the day were afraid to do their job. In a male dominated culture, these ladies were true warriors.

Hello 2024. This is the way.

P.S. I’ve been mulling over the idea of whether or not to create a newsletter again. In the meantime, you can keep up with my latest updates on facebook and Instagram.

My book release was pushed from September to February of this year. Eternal, Everywhere, With You is a time travel, contemporary fantasy romance (with the most beautiful cover in all the land). Description as follows:

High School grads Dovie and Silas begin their summer with a shortcut and a wish. But what happens before they arrive home turns their world upside down. That same night, a stranger shows up at Dovie’s summer home, adding more questions to the mix. Supplied with a few peculiar clues to piece together, they quickly learn one very important thing:

Never wish upon a falling star.

Travel through time, suspicion and romance, as Dovie and Silas discover what lies beneath their own identities, and in the very dust of the earth.

Cover reveal is on the way.

Blessings for a noble and purposeful New Year!









Reach

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I went to elementary school in the 80’s when bullying was thought of as an elective. That meant if someone elected to pick on you and you complained to the teacher about it, you would be promptly reminded how close you were to the end of the day, and with that, the teacher turned away as if that small nugget of counseling was all they had to offer. I suppose it was.
Wuzzle was the nickname of the girl who tried to strong-arm me on the bus. She was stocky to my slight, bronzed to my pale, and thought I’d be an easy target on which to display her superiority.
But this was the country where cowboys could speak the language of artists, and ballerinas could be both feminine and beasts. There are fewer limits where there are fewer assumptions.


So as she tried to pin my arms down, I remembered how my ballet teacher told us that dancers were some of the strongest people in the world because we weren’t reliant on machines and steps to sculpt our muscles—we used what we had—our own bodies. Sometimes we forget the value of what we already have.
In ballet, you not only hold your arms up for the majority of the class, but you reach farther than you came in reaching, and use them to frame a story for the audience. What’s not obvious is the effort it takes just to hold your arms up for an hour, and the strength it takes to rise to your toes time and again.
With all the stretching, ballerinas’ muscles don’t bulk up as they would if built in the gym, so this way, they not only reach beyond their limits, but the work that goes into the dance doesn’t get lost to the story.
Wuzzle gave up after a good ten minutes. My arms couldn’t be pinned by an amateur elective-taker. Reality for those who judge without looking a little deeper. But our struggle wasn’t for nothing—we became friends after that, and chose to sit by each other on the bus from that day forward.
I try to remember that as I face struggles—what do I already have in me? Will I let myself reach a little farther…because with the spirit in me, I can. So can you.

Blessings for your Tuesday.

I’m offering a few of my books free for a few days–The first two in The City of Light series, YA dystopian fiction.

Go here for Wake

Go here for Wild

The Border of Courage

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There was a girl in my high school who attended parties in the name of guard duty. She would watch over her bestie in case a guy tried to take advantage of her after consuming too much alcohol, or something.

She was ever glossed in cherry pink lips, charming, flirtatious. Churched.

At the time, I thought those girls were weak. Stupid. The one girl for knowingly (continuously) putting herself in dangerous situations—the other for trying to fit in with the crowd in the name of protection.

What a bad example, I thought, discussing life with my friends under shade of tree and good reputation. She’s certainly crossed the line from Christian to20160214_132506 compromise.

My own faith walk looked a lot different—for different reasons—but now that I’ve walked a little farther and read and re-read about Jesus’ life, I get it. Living in comfort is safe, but that’s all.

Jesus crossed the boundaries all the time. He never joined people in their sin, but he still joined the people. The religious of the day had set up boundaries—cross a certain line and your reputation will be ruined. Jesus didn’t even glance at those lines. He dined with tax collectors and sinners. On their own turf, Jesus shared His love knowing it would ruin his reputation with the religious elite.

When Jesus reached the spot, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.” So he came down at once and welcomed him gladly.
All the people saw this and began to mutter, “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner.” Luke 19:5-7.

Did they ever once consider Zacchaeus?

Now, I don’t know what went on at those parties with the two friends—I didn’t bother to cross that line—but now I know better than to assume the watchdog of the two had bad intentions. And as for the girl who drank too much and somethinged—she’s exactly the kind of people Jesus would have made his friend. Or perhaps she just needed a reminder of her worth.

Anyway, I guess I write this because I recognize a dangerous trend. Not everyone will be called to cross the boundary lines, but the ones that do don’t need fellow believers (of all people) to assume the worst. We all know how that went down for Jesus. He succeeded in His mission, but not without enduring extreme pain from those who should have known better.

Consider what God calls you to do. You don’t need to be safe if He’s with you. You don’t need the opinion’s of the crowd. You just need a brave set of feet.

Dreaming

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I hate today. I’m on the couch as I write this, sipping out of a water glass my sweet four-year-old can’t fill quick enough. This is the first time I’ve had a fever since I can remember, and I’m unproductive. What a waste. A big, fat, ugly day filled with piles getting bigger, research not getting done and muscles getting flabby. I consider my weights in the closet—the ones I haven’t used nearly enough because the past few months of busyness have leached a good portion of my time. I curl up under my tea-sloshed blanket and scowl.

I don’t have time for this.

I sift through my email and social media. Everyone seems to be thinking about success today. What is it, really, and how do you know you’ve found it? Am I supposed to consider this as I camp out on my couch, not getting success done? I click on another blog and there it is again.

I just finished reading a book on the meticulous ways to map out a novel before beginning writing—“this is where you find success”, the author said. I think I yawned 2.5 million times before I was half-way through. I couldn’t give that book away fast enough. And extreme organization is a great way to suck the life out of a story if that’s not how you’re wired. I’ve tried it. Success is not found in changing the way God wired you.

Several years ago, someone insinuated that I needed to go back to school. My job didn’t pay enough, it wasn’t prestigious enough, and they insisted I would find success in getting a degree like theirs. They said my idea of advancing in the arts was unrealistic.

Says no one who dreams big.100_3848

Thankfully, I ignored them—otherwise I would never have completed and published my novel (and since then, that person’s priorities of prestige and $$$ ended up landing them in a world of hurt). Success is not found in a bank account or in the opinions of others.

My daughter keeps a notebook everywhere she goes—in the car, on her bed—being a sensitive soul, she needs all kinds of creative outlets to express herself. When her glass is half-empty a little too long, I encourage her to write about the things she’s thankful for. Somewhere along her words, she finds her answer—and I find mine. I pick up the paper she handed me before school this morning and delight in her wisdom on the art of ballet. Here is a condensed version of Chloe’s rules for being a successful ballerina:
Be good.
Keep your back straight.
Don’t bend your knees unless your teacher tells you to.
Keep your balance.
Have strength, courage and Faith.
Never give up.

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There it is—in the word she capitalized—Faith. That’s where success is. I think many of us feel like a good portion of our time is spent in between Good Friday and Resurrection Day. It’s dark, confusing, and feels like all we have invested our time and energy into has been sealed inside a dark tomb—going nowhere fast.

When success comes, it looks nothing like we thought it would. There are scars. The steps we take from now on require strength, courage and a whole lot of Faith. But someone carries those scars for us, and He’s not the product of human realism. He’s supernatural.

So there’s the answer. Our only option is to dream big.

What is your dream?