Jennifer Rodewald's Blog, page 4

Guilt

Thinking about…

guilt.

I once asked a friend how to weed through the feelings of guilt that I was wresting with. Balancing being a wife, motherhood, writing, and volunteering in ministry is an ever-present concern in my world. At that moment (when I talked to  my friend) I couldn’t shake the guilt I felt every time my kids found me working on something not-them related.

She told me two things that really stuck.

First, our culture, especially the church sub-culture, tends to bombard us with the idea that our kids need our undying attention every second of every day, no matter what age they are (mine are 9-15. They don’t need my undivided attention ALL THE TIME. Seriously.). 

Second, when God brings conviction into our lives, He makes it loud and clear. Sometimes we’re super good at shoving that clear conviction to a back corner of our minds, but it doesn’t make the conviction less clear. Maybe just less loud. Nagging, ambiguous guilt, though? That’s not from God. Especially when, through prayer, there’s not any clear confirmation of conviction. It’s just nagging, discouraging guilt. You know things like,

You’re not enough.

You failed again.

You’re not what your kids need.

Still not good enough.

It’s a tool of our enemy to keep us on the ground. Distracted. Defeated.

Doesn’t sound like God-work, does it?

Honestly, I still wrestle with this kind of guilt. Often. But I’m learning to come to Jesus, to ask Him to either make the conviction clear, or give me the courage to step under the shield of faith and believe Him when He says that voice of defeat is not His.

What about you? Do you wrestle with hazy, debilitating guilt? Do you think it’s God, or is there something else at work? How can you tell the difference?

The Snowflake Hunt

I find myself in search of snowflake ornaments now.

This is the first year I’ve experienced this obsession. Honestly, I don’t think I currently own even one of said decorations. But this woman—her name is Kale Brennan—has put into my heart a need to collect these things. Her story, which involves snowflakes, and hot cocoa, and sledding, and all sorts of other wonderful wintry things, also points to the amazing uniqueness of an ordinary snowflake. And how much we can see the extraordinary love of our great God in everyday, ordinary ways.

In the words of her daughter Sydney, “There is no such thing as an ordinary snowflake… And we’re like that. God makes us each special and loves us especially.”

Uniquely made. Loved especially. I like that. So, now I’m hunting for snowflakes. And, more importantly, for the everyday graces I’m now more aware of.

How about you? Is there something you look for, something symbolic, that reminds you of how extraordinary our God is, how wonderfully He loves you, or how special ordinary, everyday grace really is? I’d love to hear about it.

In the meantime, as Christmas is fast approaching, if you see a snowflake ornament, I hope it makes you smile. More, I pray it makes you reflect on the extraordinary God who has crafted them.

Because, after all, there are no ordinary snowflakes.

 

Ordinary Snowflakes is available in paperback, or for Kindle or Nook

***Will the one pursuing her with his secret gift and kind gestures be the one her heart longs for in the end?***

“This beautiful story not only captures the miracle of the manger, but exemplifies the magnificence of unconditional love.” ~Rebecca Maney, Goodreads Review

“As well as a heart-melting romance, this novel was a lovely reminder that sometimes we forget to look for God in the ordinary things.” ~Fiction Aficionado

“Ordinary Snowflakes has definitely landed solidly in the hit category.” ~Amazon Reviewer

“…everything you would want in a holiday read and more.” ~Amazon Reviewer

 

#RedRoseBouquet

Snowflakes, Hot Cocoa, and Hope

I love autumn, and I don’t mean to rush it away, so bear with me as I jump into winter for a moment. I’m only doing so out of sheer delight. My first novella is releasing November 21, and I just can’t wait for another second to tell y’all about it. So without more fluffy intro that you probably don’t care about ;)…

Come back with  me to Rock Creek (the setting of Reclaimed) and meet Kale, Sydney, Joe, and Craig.

Someone has noticed me. A secret admirer? A man with a good heart, who sees how much I actually need help, even though I never admit it? Maybe this is the beginning of a beautiful story—a romance full of hope and second chances and love.  

Maybe…

A secret Santa gift left on Kale Brennan’s front porch opens up a fresh view of her ordinary life, and perhaps of God. Maybe she does matter. Maybe God sees her—as does a new-to-town music teacher who has her seven-year-old daughter gushing and her own knees buckling with his killer smile. But as Kale embraces new possibilities, a staple in her life—a man who is kind and steady, not to mention necessary for her injured daughter’s recovery—also snatches her attention in an unexpected way. Will the one pursuing her with his secret gift and kind gestures be the one her heart longs for in the end?

I had so much fun writing this little story (although, I confess, and my writing/critique partners will testify, somewhere in the middle of it I decided it was the dumbest thing I’d ever written. I was wrong. This book really grabbed my heart in an unexpected, joyful way). Going back to Rock Creek, meeting some new friends in that lovely little town, and catching a glimpse of Suzanna Rustin was as refreshing as a brisk day blanketed with new snow. My prayer as I wrote was, “God, show me joy again. Whisper new life…”

And He absolutely did. He is so good.

Ordinary Snowflakes is available for pre-order on Amazon. And…I’m thrilled to announce that it will be available on audio by the release date. If you’re part of my email list, please hold off until my November newsletter. You’ll just have to trust me for a good reason.

Help For the Wednesday Hurdle: Author Interview with Tammy Gray

So, it’s been a while. I know. Sorry. But I found a great reason to do another Wednesday giveaway. Her name is Tammy Gray, and she’s one of my writing heroes. I absolutely love her stories, and my favorite contemporary transformational fiction book came from her imagination. (It’s called Mercy’s Fight, and it’s sooooo good. Maybe you picked up that vibe already?

Pre-Order is Live for Red Rose Bouquet

The Blurb….

The dark places in life have taught her this much—some things simply cannot be forgiven.

Pre-order is live here

Cheryl Thompson learned over a decade ago to guard her shattered heart with a veil of cold indifference. Life since that day has been an endless cycle of detachment and loneliness, followed by superficial relationships. Break up, rinse, and repeat. Until something in her snaps. This life…she can’t do it anymore. She returns to her childhood home in the Colorado Rockies to help her Nana, only to discover a man capable of thawing her iced-over emotions—a man she knows she doesn’t deserve, so she pushes him away. But he keeps coming back.

Brock Kelly lived high as King of the Slopes in the world of snowboard cross racing. Medals. Money. Fame. But after a visit to an orphanage in Mexico, he gave up his adrenaline-packed lifestyle to follow a calling from God he didn’t know he had—helping kids who’d been damaged emotionally. When his best friend’s baby sister returns to town, he recognizes the hollow look in her eyes and sees the pain beneath her icy armor. It seems God has issued new call on his life. One he is not prepared for.

Falling in love with a woman who keeps secrets is dangerous all on its own. But when Cheryl finally tells Brock what she’s never told anyone else…no wonder she is the way she is. It would take a miracle to heal that wound, and a love bigger than Brock had ever imagined to walk with her through the process.

 

I didn’t see this one coming. Honest.

As I was going through the final editing stages for Blue Columbine, I got to the scene where Cheryl leaves Andrew in his downtown loft—livid, frozen, and completely unlikable. Something whispered to me, “She has a story.” Probably that “something” was Someone.

Great, I thought. Series sell, so let’s do it. What’s Cheryl the Ice Princess’s story?

I fiddled with some ideas, sketched out some plot possibilities.

Nothing stuck. That was okay. I was in the middle of completing The Carpenter’s Daughter, so it could keep.

A few months down the road, my hubby and I somehow managed to snag a night on our own, and we decided to watch a movie. I’d purchased October Baby over a year before, but honestly, I knew the story, and on the rare nights that we could choose our movies, that hadn’t made it to the top of the list. But my hubby doesn’t do reruns that well, and it was one of the only movies we had in the house that we hadn’t seen. And so we began…

There is a scene where we see the birth mother. Most remember her as cold, stiff, and indifferent. That wasn’t what grabbed me. Truly, of that whole movie, what I remember most vividly was the ten-second sequence of seeing that woman shatter.

Her, the Whisper said. That’s Cheryl, and you need to tell her story.

Truth? God couldn’t have laid this story on a more unqualified woman. So I argued. I don’t know anything about this. I don’t want to do this. I will completely mess this up.

But Cheryl…she wouldn’t leave my mind.

There was nothing easy about this story. I found myself shredded through the process of research—something I usually love to do. Sitting down to write her story came with a sense of heaviness and a strong dose of fear. Still, her story would not let me surrender.

I am so thankful. I loved when Brock said that his life was shifting. My paradigm has shifted too. I don’t write so that I can preach. I write so that I may be changed.

I am definitely not the same. (We) cannot escape the demands of deep compassion. Truth. And it has opened my eyes.

Sometimes, as we saw with both Brock and Cheryl, you have to be willing to look at the brokenness and to allow another’s pain to break your heart before you can truly learn compassion.

Thanks to Cheryl, my heart has been shattered. I am better for it. Because of that, I am so thankful for the things that I hadn’t seen coming.

 

 

No Escape

Fiction… that imaginary place of escape.

True. Sometimes. Not always.

I live an ordinary life. We juggle the norm…joys, fears, tears, and the expected struggle to figure out this living thing so that we may do it well. If you were a fly on my wall, and you managed to escape my nylon swatter, you’d probably wonder why I write what I write.

Sometimes, I do too.

I just past the 1/3 mark on the rough draft of my current project. Usually that’s where it gets hard. Sadly, I get bored. I go looking in my imagination for new people to meet, a new story to explore. You know those people who struggle to finish a project? I’m one of them. So, I have my peeps around me to push me forward.

This time, it’s a little different. I’m not bored. I’m scared.

As a teenager, I’d write to escape. I’d create my own little world where I was in control, people behaved the way I thought they should behave, and the storylines would work out to my advantage. In short, it was all about me. When I took up writing again about a decade back, it was pretty much the same. I wrote what was comfortable and happy and made me look…good.

Then I met Andrew Harris in what would become Blue Columbine. Seriously, not the kind of hero I’d set out to invent. In the early stages of rewrites, I’d get comments from people looking at my work saying, “I do not like this character. At all. You need to make him likable.” It would make me tear up. Because I knew exactly what they meant.

I discovered something through writing a story that was beyond myself… God can use anything to break through our stubbornness.  For me, the learning was a lesson in compassion. Meeting Andrew, writing his story often made me frustrated, with both him and his co-star Jamie. Why couldn’t they get it together? Why couldn’t they just do the right thing? Why did he have to be such a jerk? Why did she have to be such a noodle? Why did it take him nearly losing his life to see what he was doing? Why couldn’t Jamie forgive him when he’d changed and move on?

Life is just more complicated than black and white. If it wasn’t, God wouldn’t have commanded us to practice justice AND mercy.

Interestingly, God not only began peeling my layers of cold arrogance, he began to show me the places of compromise in my own life. I guess I’m not as black and white as I first thought.

So, this new project…

It’s a struggle because the issues are honestly beyond me. I wonder, am I presumptuous to take this on? How can I possibly relate? Is this really something God wants me to pursue?

And when He whispers yes, I tremble. Because the thing is, He teaches me through the process, and often it becomes painful. I see the agony I had previously overlooked. I see hearts that I once had thought calloused, but now know are actually so shattered they almost cannot move. And then He shows me my own ugly places—places I’ve pushed away and that have become hardened. He shows me how I have failed to love. Where I do not offer compassion. And where I ignore my own failings.

I don’t like that. I don’t really want to go there.

Perhaps there’s a reason Jesus often taught in parables. We relate to story, it gets inside of us and begins to untie the knots we’ve worked hard to secure. Story becomes vivid; it echoes in our imaginations, teaching when theory failed to penetrate.

It becomes inescapable.

And maybe a place of learning. Of repenting. Of turning. Of forgiveness.

Maybe in it, I can become a little more like the great storyteller Himself.

I do not want to escape that.

The Carpenter’s Daughter Cover Reveal

It’s all coming together. Two more weeks, and a handful of days, and Sarah Sharpe will launch from my imagination into the world. Can you tell that I’m excited? Good. Because I am. :)

So while I do a happy dance in my kitchen, which I can’t show you, and you probably really don’t want to see, I’ll hand you the cover of my newest novel….

Tada!!!

This cover was fun, and I had a lot of help. My sister, Joanna Jerome (almost Conn…she changes her last name the day after TCD goes live. How fun is that?) was my cover model, and she did an amazing job. Just for funsies, I’ll post some of the photos that didn’t make the final cut, and you’ll be able to see my lovely sis taking on Sarah’s plight. To make things even more special, my sister-in-law Lorie, who happens to be extraordinary with a camera, shot these amazing pictures and helped me choose the best one for the cover. Such a team!

I also had help from two amazingly talented ladies whose kindness exceeds their incredible talent; Lynette Bonner and Roseanna White allowed me to pick their brains and helped with the technical stuff I’m simply incapable of doing.

Thank you, ladies. What would I do without you?

Copyright: Lorie Jerome, 2015. Used with permission.

This was nearly perfect. Joanna and Lorie captured Sarah’s longing for identity. However, we decided the background, as lovely as it is, didn’t make her pop.

Better back ground. Pose…well, maybe. But Sarah’s hair is shorter, and darker. The wispy strands over her face are beyond my skills to change.

Ohh…I like. The longing in her expression is perfect. The hair I could mess with. Bummer, though, I don’t like the way the dress is laying at her shoulder…

This went on for hours. But in the end, I’m thrilled with the cover for Sarah’s story, and I can’t wait to show you what’s inside. To celebrate the fact that I’m actually ahead of schedule (Whoa. Mark it down, scribe.) the preorder is live and you can lock in your Kindle copy for $0.99. The link is below.

The Carpenter’s Daughter on Amazon.

Like I said, I’m so excited! Sarah’s story is pretty special to me, and I can’t wait to hear what you think. Thank you so much for allowing me to gush!

 

Imaginary Friends and Real Life Lessons

Launch time is coming. I’m so thrilled. This project has been an amazing journey.

Click Here for the blurb

Know what I love? Learning. Truly, I do. I miss school. When my kids were younger, I signed up for correspondence courses, because I just needed to use my brain, to stretch my knowledge. To know that my life skills went beyond the laundry room. (Those skills aren’t very good, to be honest, so, yes, please! Let me be useful past the clean clothes journey!) I love research. I love trying things. I love discovering.

What does this have to do with anything?

Here’s what I love  most about writing:  I learn. These imaginary friends who live in my head, open their wounded souls to me, they teach me things that I couldn’t know otherwise. Because I see the world through their eyes (no, it’s really not through mine. I don’t know how that works, but it’s true), I see life differently.

I begin to love differently.

These imaginary friends bring me real-life lessons, and they change me. For the better. I pray, as I share stories, that this is true for readers as well.

So, tell me. What have you read that taught your heart something new? I’d love to hear what has changed your perspective!

 

Enough.

So, the first round of deep edits are close to done for The Carpenter’s Daughter (need a synopsis? click here).

Copyright: Lorie Jerome, 2015. Used with permission.

Can I be honest? This book sank into me. Like deep. Really deep. I haven’t moved past it yet.

As a caveat, before I continue, let’s just clear this one thing up: I’m not Sarah Sharpe. Yes, my dad is a carpenter type guy. But that’s about all the outward similarities I share with this character who has gripped my heart. Around here, we lovingly refer to any project fail as “a Jen project.”

Yep. I’m that good (read: terrible. I can’t even measure correctly. I try. Truly I do. It just doesn’t work out.).

Sarah is a unique character. Butch, (I know I could have gone in all kinds of questionable directions with that name. You’ll just have to trust me.) but only outwardly, she’s not a damsel in distress. At least, not in your typical female lead kind of way. She is strong. She holds her own in a world that is still very much dominated by men, no matter what you see on HGTV. And she is uniquely talented.

And yet very vulnerable.

Paradox? Perhaps. Aren’t we all?

I love Sarah, because her struggles are raw and authentic…and very much mine. Every time Sarah asked “who am I?” I heard the question echo in my own heart. Honestly, is there a woman on this planet who hasn’t searched for her identity? For most of us, we’d admit that the hunt restarts with every changing season in our lives. And so, in that, I am she.

I am the woman who longs to be seen and understood. I am the girl hoping someone would see past the shell I take on in life. I am the one who aches to be loved just as me.

I am the woman who wants to be okay with who I am.

But, for all that honesty, here’s where I come undone. I am the girl Jesus loves.

Sometimes it takes a mess for us to really grasp that, doesn’t it? We search for our place, trying to fit in all the wrong spots, before we’re willing to hear that voice tell us what we are so desperate to hear.

He loves me.

Rest there, oh my soul. That is enough.

It’s life giving. Life changing.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t moved past it yet. Maybe I’ll just stay.