The Summer Files: Day 13

Posted on June 6, 2017 by sherryrossman

The valley days roll along as tumbleweeds and Arizona is working up to full summer boil as it does every year, but One thing has awakened us to the brilliance of seasons: Miracles haven’t stopped coming. They’re coming, friends.

During our third trip to the Healing Room, remembering God is the same God who healed all those people a few thousand years ago, Our Son kept tugging at me, trying to get my attention. After shushing him so as not to interrupt the prayer volunteers, he finally stood forward and announced that he felt this “hand” on the back of his neck. At first, he thought it was the Guy leading the prayer, but the Guy, standing a few feet in front of him thought it might have been a more celestial hand.

Over the next several days, including the few the Son endured with a long prep and a few tests at the children’s hospital, joy burst from his seams.

“I feel good, Mommy.”

I won’t go into detail on how no one would be feeling good after what he just experienced, but the joy kept rolling in like a protective halo.

Shortly after coming home, we found out his bowel disease is gone.

It was a twisty road, friends. We prayed, we doubted, and prayed again. Many people prayed for us. Thank you, to all who did. Somewhere in there, we believed. I often wonder why miracles don’t happen more often…maybe we’re too distracted by, “but will He?” thoughts. Maybe we put more faith in modern medicine than in God. He does say, “…because of your faith, you are healed.”

We are also a culture of intellectual pride. How can an educated, modern society believe in miracles? If we can’t see them, touch them, prove them, do they exist?

Modern medicine is a blessing. Thank the Lord for our Doctors and Nurses. I believe God uses them in many beautiful ways.

But that wind. It pushes in tumbleweeds with its invisible hands. It cools our sweat with its merciful breeze. We can’t see it, but we know it’s there. Why is it so much easier to count on the arrival of ugly, poky sticker bushes, than the breath of Heaven? Even fellow believers tried explaining the healing through logic and spiritual doubt (What kind of solutions come from spiritual doubt?).

But our Son just experienced an invisible hand, illogical joy and healing. Those weren’t tumbleweeds that blew our way.

They’re coming.

What if We Were Duct Tape?

Posted on August 15, 2016 by sherryrossman

Last year, when I wasn’t as close to 40, I bought a satchel for my writing travels. Gray as a morning dove, it offered pockets for my laptop, manuscript and cell phone. It was young, beautiful and perfect.

The first strap broke in the Philly airport after enduring 6 hours of being overstuffed with books and that extra outfit for “just in case.” My blue travel purse was also inside–the one that didn’t have to be big enough to fit wipes, snacks and a good sized collection of Minion bandaids.

Thankfully, I had packed duct tape in case my Leeloo Dallas suspenders had an accident (because a writers conference for speculative fiction writers must have cosplay).

By the time the strap on my blue purse broke, I was running on a lot of adrenaline and little sleep, so I don’t remember if it was during Tosca Lee’s or Thomas Locke’s class but I didn’t stress it too much–the purse was about a decade old.

It was when a second strap on my newer satchel broke that I began to look around me…was it during the paranormal panel?

What does this mean?

I laid the irreparable blue purse to rest back in the Villanova dorm room, then grabbed the bright orange duct tape and reinforced all four straps of my satchel. I figured I should be thankful for the duct tape than pout over the out-of-place patches of my dove-gray beauty.

Now that I’m home (a few breaths from 40) and shopping for a heavy duty yet attractive bag, I’m staring at Oksana Chusovitina on the TV screen. I see her solid form, her poise and most of all–the lack of fear in her eyes. She’s a 41-year-old Olympic Gymnast.

Wow. I smile and realize, of course–She’s duct tape.

She’s the sturdy bridge between the young and old, standing in front of the world and reminding us to quit underestimating ourselves. We may feel out of place, but like those of us who immerse ourselves in speculative thought, she simply asked, “What if?”

That In-Between Place

Posted on April 25, 2016 by sherryrossman

Many people lose their faith when they forget Lazarus. By human standards, it was far too late for him to receive his miracle. Four days in the grave doesn’t even take a lawyer to convince us of his demise. His sisters, Mary and Martha were devastated, both telling Jesus if only He had been there, their brother would have been saved.

For America, the last decade has been ripe with all kinds of Lazarus-loss. Everyone reading this probably knows someone, or have themselves lost a home or a job. A loved one or a marriage. No matter how advanced our culture becomes, hardship slips in on the breeze, impervious to financial status or healthy living. Parts of our lives crumble into the tomb where it’s dark, hopeless.

Trying to move forward can be full of bitterness; waking up to heartbreak every day, dragging our feet by that tomb holding our loss. Where is God when the good things start to slip away? Is His eye still on the sparrow?

Jesus didn’t scold the sisters for grieving or confronting Him about His absence when he showed up days late. He mourned with them.

Then He walked to the cave in which Lazarus was buried and raised him from the dead. Earlier, right before His journey to Bethany, He tells the disciples that He is going there to wake Lazarus, saying, “…and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.”

There’s this place in-between where God works, like the three days between Jesus’ death on the cross and His resurrection. The days between Lazarus’ death and his own restoration. In this place, we’re reminded that we don’t rule the world. We can’t control our circumstances, but if we do like the sisters and the disciples and keep our eyes focused on Jesus, He’s going to show us how our circumstances can bring hope to a struggling world. Hope beyond what we could ever have imagined.

I hope you have a blessed weeks, friends. Just a reminder, Wake is on sale until Wednesday…only .99! As of this moment, it’s #1 Amazon bestseller in Christian Science Fiction.

What we can learn from Batman

Posted on March 28, 2016 by sherryrossman

Our Easter began with a service by Watson Lake and ended with Batman vs. Superman. The first was beautiful and peaceful–the breeze and sun couldn’t have been more lovely. On a perfectly placed current soared a bald eagle which was a special treat for my son who had recently asked when he would see one again.

The second half of our day was exciting–a few hours of grown up time is a rare gift, especially when it’s a movie with an edge to it. Lecture me not, because I’m okay with a little violence and fantasy. It actually got me thinking about the whole spectrum of superhero fandom. Why do we get so excited about characters dripping in unreality? Why do we embrace these stories soaked in red capes and heroes that can fly? Our culture can’t get enough–we arrange babysitters for our kids so we can get away to watch grown-up movies which, in reality, are childlike stories.

So what really comes with Easter and Batman?

This is where Christians fail to be like kids (don’t laugh–it’s an order from God Himself: “And he said: Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Matthew 18:3)
It’s not good to be afraid of fantasy (what is it, really?). It’s not okay to put ideas of God in a box over here, away from the exciting stuff that happens over there. Do you remember what happened after the Resurrection?

“When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them. All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues[a] as the Spirit enabled them.” Acts 2:1-4

What else happened after the crucifixion?

“At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life. They came out of the tombs after Jesus’ resurrection and[a] went into the holy city and appeared to many people.” Matthew 27:51-53

This is the kind of stuff we put over there, in fantasy, but it’s not. It’s reality friends (okay, except Batman, but it’s a good movie). That supernatural world we crave is here!

Maybe God sent the eagle over our Easter celebration because a child approached life with the perspective God wants us to have. Who knows? Maybe we’d see more of God’s superpowers if we didn’t write things off as coincidence. Maybe we’ve forgotten who God is and who we are.

What do you think?

The Border of Courage

Posted on February 15, 2016 by sherryrossman

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 to 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

Posted on April 13, 2015 by sherryrossman

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.

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.

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?

Kingdom Armor

Posted on January 19, 2015 by sherryrossman

Sometimes, waking to a dark house is not just a dark house. Sometimes, in the deep of night when the stars have rocked our home to sleep, a foe slips in. Melding into our dreams, it shapes them into nightmares, shaking us awake.

One by one, we all search for sleep again. I tuck my little girl back in first, and being a discerning soul, she always requests an extra prayer on these nights.

Next, comes my son. I usually have to cuddle with him until he slips back into the land of nod or else he won’t find rest.

As I lay there, things drip. The house cracks and the scratching noises in the laundry room is not the cat for he sleeps deeply on the couch as twenty-year-old cats do. The dogs outside sense the foe and growl, announcing its presence to the neighborhood.

I can’t settle my legs. Despite my exhaustion, the foe thrusts his blade into the air, whipping up a battle that most people blame on the full moon.

It’s not.

I pray and put on my armor. I guard my son until I feel peace because he has not yet found his own armor.

Boys need a special kind of Knight Light, for their battleground is a fierce one.

My son slips into even breaths and I lift my request to the King.

“Please let my son take up his armor soon. And let his Knight Light never dim.

Let it shine bright when it’s time for him to take a stand.
Let it not wane when a damsel tries stand in front of it.
Let it shine fierce if he or his fellow Knights get lost in the battle.
Let him keep it securely in place, so it doesn’t get snuffed out.

And lastly, let him never try to replace it with a generic version.”

Rom 13:12 (NIV) The night is almost gone, and the day is near. Therefore let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light.

The Magical Kingdom

Posted on December 15, 2014 by sherryrossman

The wind moans through the park as I stare at the old tree. It cranes over, dry and brittle like a tired old man. Its back is arced from carrying heavy branches that creep across the expanse of it like withered spikes on a crown. It looks one moment away from crumbling back into the dust.

I hold on to a that picture two hours after my Grandpa walked through Heaven’s door, and for a wonderful minute I feel some of his joy as he left his failed body behind and walked into glory. His crown is new now, and I’m sure, full of splendor.

I sift through the memories like we all do when we lose someone. I can smell the downy fresh sleeping bags draped over dusty camper beds. I hear him and my Grandma singing on their front porch as we string beans, and the sounds of multiple trips to Disneyland play their faded tunes. My Grandpa never outgrew the magical kingdom.

I take another look at the tree, a heavy shadow tucked inside the Christmas lights strewn about. Life blooms and celebrates around it. It’s really a picture of all of us—those who can see the lights weaving among those who only see the shadows.

I step back and take it all in. If I take my glasses off it all whirls together. It’s no longer joy separated by pain, party here and sorrow there. It’s a true magical kingdom—a glimpse of heaven touching earth.

But that’s how it really is. Even though there are days when walking in the shadows of the fallen seems like the only thing to do—days when it feels like everything has fallen—seeing the magical Kingdom around us is just one choice away.

I would like to extend my gratitude to all of you who’ve joined or visited this blog. Thank you for becoming a part of this community and supporting my writing efforts. The digital version of Faith Seekers is now available for $2.99 here.

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