Lynn Austin's Blog, page 12

Trimming the Tree

My publishing company, Bethany House, recently asked their authors to send a picture of their favorite Christmas ornament to post on their Facebook page. I had a very difficult time deciding! Let me take you on a tour of our Christmas tree so you can see why.

These beautiful crocheted ornaments came from my sister-in-law, Marion Engel, who gave them to me a few years ago when she was down-sizing. She hand-made many of them. I loved them so much that they’ve become the theme for my tree.

I have ornaments from my family when I was growing up, purchased at Woolworth’s 5&10 cent store. Remember Woolworths? They were the Dollar Store of the 1950s. Our family couldn’t afford more expensive ornaments.

I also have some that belonged to my husband’s family when he was growing up. They are fragile and fading a bit, but I love them. Very vintage!

A friend of mine made this Pooh Bear for our son Joshua when he was a baby. Poor Pooh Bear is looking a little tattered after all these years, but he’s still a well-loved favorite.

My husband Ken is a professional trumpet-player, and many of his students have given him trumpet ornaments as Christmas presents. I add more musical ornaments to his collection whenever I find some.

Every year since our granddaughter was born, I’ve purchased a small picture-frame ornament so we can watch her grow through the years.

This mailbox ornament that a Canadian friend made for us reminds me of Christmas when we lived in Canada. The mailbox provides a perfect place to hide a clue leading to a present that’s too big to wrap and put beneath the tree.

I have beautiful Delft ornaments that were given to me on my book tours to the Netherlands.

And olivewood ornaments from our trips to the Holy Land.

But my favorite ornaments? It has to be these two:

My son and daughter made them out of Styrofoam and yarn when they were in kindergarten more than thirty years ago.

Every year, our family relives many great memories when we decorate our tree. And now, my wish for you and your loved ones is for a very Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year!

The Angel’s Message

I had the privilege on Saturday to speak to the ladies of Eastern Avenue Christian Reformed Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan at their annual Advent Brunch. What a wonderful morning we had! The ladies had decorated the hall for Christmas with each table beautifully set to welcome the women who gathered there. The men of the church treated us like royalty as they served our meal. There was Christmas music and good food and lots of new friends to meet. I love events like these that come early in December. They help me slow down and focus on celebrating Christ’s birth instead of racing around with a mile-long to-do list in my hand.

As I thought about what I wanted to share with the ladies, the angels in the Christmas story came to mind. One of them appeared to Mary in Nazareth to announce God’s plan for her to give birth to His Son. The angel’s message began with the words “Do not be afraid.” Another angel spoke to Joseph in a dream when he learned of Mary’s pregnancy, and once again his message began with “Do not be afraid.” A third angel appeared to the shepherds to announce Christ’s birth, and he also began his message with “Do not be afraid.” Angels must be awesome beings indeed, to spark fear each time they appear!

But I think it’s more than that. Mary and Joseph had all their plans in place. They were going to be married soon, and they probably envisioned a future much like that of other young couples in the village of Nazareth, with work and children and a new home. Then an angel appeared to announce that God was about to turn their orderly lives upside down, bringing a baby before they had a chance to marry—a baby who was the Son of God and heir to Israel’s throne. Were they willing to give up their dreams and let God’s plans go forward? The angel said, “Do not be afraid.” Trust God. Trust that He is working for good. Trust that events are taking place in the spiritual realm that they couldn’t see. Trust God, even though everything in their life is about to change. Mary’s response to the angel and to God was, “I am the Lord’s servant.”

Most of us have made a lot of plans for the future. Our calendar pages are filled with programs and events and travel arrangements. But change can come unexpectedly. Accidents, illnesses, job losses, financial problems, relationship problems—these don’t stop so we can celebrate a “magical” Christmas holiday. If only an angel would appear to us whenever our lives are turned upside down and comfort us by saying, “Don’t be afraid! Trust God! He is in control and He is working for our good.”

I’m guessing that most of us have recently experienced some sort of unwelcome change. (If you haven’t, you’re probably about to!) Whether we like it or not, change is part of life. Before we start to panic and fret and worry, what if we took a moment to listen for the angel’s message from our Heavenly Father. It’s the same one that Mary and Joseph heard: “Don’t be afraid. Trust God in this. He is in control.”

When change comes, will we wrestle and worry and try to get our own plans back on track? Or will we put our hand in God’s and say, like Mary did, “I am the Lord’s servant.”

Thanks a Lot!

Two more chapters to write and I will be able to type those wonderful words—THE END. The novel I’ve been laboring on for nearly a year is almost finished. Maybe I’ll be able to enjoy the Christmas season with my family this year without stressing over my deadline. But when I tried to start my computer yesterday morning, eager to make the final sprint to the finish line, I discovered that it had crashed. An automatic update had failed, locking everything up. The fatal blue screen wouldn’t allow me access to my computer no matter how hard I tried. I did the only thing I knew how to do—I panicked!

Unlike most writers, I am NOT computer savvy. I know enough to answer email, write my novels, and post this blog. That’s about it. I called my brother-in-law in New York who is my computer go-to person and he diagnosed the problem. The solution? I could pay a local tech $95 an hour to try to fix it (and still have an aging computer), or I could purchase a new computer and pay the tech to try to retrieve my novel and everything else from my old hard drive. I chose the new computer. (Not exactly what I wanted for a Christmas present. Sigh.) It’s going to take a few days to get my new computer back home with everything on it (hopefully) restored from my old one. In the meantime, I’m limping along at a snail’s pace with this tiny laptop.

A crashed computer isn’t the only discouraging “glitch” I’ve experienced in my writing life these past few months. On the day of my book launch—a day I waited an entire year to celebrate—the book was unavailable on Amazon. Then I learned that the members of my Launch Team wouldn’t be receiving their advance copies of the book until more than a week after the launch date. And there were several other glitches, each one frustrating and worrisome and stressful. I call them “joy stealers.” Instead of the euphoria of another successful launch or a nearly completed novel, I’m wasting my energy stewing and worrying. Joyful? Not so much.

What I needed more than a restored computer yesterday was a restored sense of perspective. I got it this morning as I read through the newsletters from several of the Christian organizations my husband and I support. People whose homes were destroyed by hurricanes and forest fires will need much more than a new computer. The children we support in Zambia and Vietnam need food and clean water on a daily basis. Christians being persecuted for their faith need prayers for their churches and families. Young girls being trafficked need deliverance and justice. I should be thankful that I can afford a new computer and still have a roof over my head and three meals a day—not to mention the freedom to enjoy them. My problem will soon be fixed. Their problems are ongoing.

This week I will celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. It’s a yearly reminder to stand back and get some perspective on how God has so richly provided for us. Have there been “glitches” and “joy stealers” this year? Of course. But in the larger view of things, my family and I have been abundantly blessed. We could have been eating Thanksgiving dinner without my husband this year if a serious health issue a few months ago hadn’t ended well. Then there are our spiritual blessings, such as God’s grace and redemption and love. The security of our heavenly home. And a calling that I love in spite of the glitches.

I think I know why the enemy tries so hard to steal our joy. Because “The joy of the Lord is our strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). I think I need to do some thanking and rejoicing while I wait for my new computer.

The Master Geocacher

Last month my husband and I finally went on our long-planned summer vacation to northern Michigan. We were supposed to go last June but it had to be postponed due to a family medical emergency. Our good friends Jacki and Paul organized the entire trip and took us to some of their favorite places, with quaint towns, beautiful forests, and pristine lakes and beaches. Here are just a few of the highlights.

Lake Michigan at Sleeping Bear Dunes National ParkBeneath the breathtaking Mackinac Bridge

Mackinac Island and the historic Grand Hotel.

Biking in Mackinac Island State Park.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Tahquamenon Falls State Park

One of the added bonuses that made the trip especially fun was that our friend Paul is a geocache enthusiast. If you aren’t familiar with the hobby of geocaching, Paul explains it as “the art of using million dollar satellites to find Tupperware in the woods.” According to Wikipedia, geocaching is “an outdoor recreational activity, in which participants use GPS to hide and seek containers called ‘caches’ in specific locations marked by coordinates all over the world.” It was my first time geocaching, and I called it fun!

Each of the places we visited in the photos above also had geocaches hidden nearby. If I’m already visiting a beautiful site like Tahquamenon Falls why not make it even more interesting by adding a treasure hunt?

Here’s a cache we found on Mackinac Island.

And another fun one in Sault Ste. Marie “hidden” right in someone’s front yard.

I’m hooked! You can probably expect another blog about my geocaching adventures in the future. But what I loved about this hobby is that it taught me to open my eyes and take a closer look at my surroundings instead of what’s directly in front of me. I can get so carried away with my camera that I end up seeing everything through that lens instead of looking at things in real life. The GPS coordinates would give the general area of the cache, but I had to look closer and notice little details in order to find what was hidden. Not only did caches come in all sizes and shapes, but some of them were hidden in very creative places. I learned to open my eyes and really see!

Geocaching reminded me of a lesson that our pastor has been trying to impress on us in his sermons lately: that every person on earth deserves to be treated with dignity because he or she has been created in the image of God. Scripture is clear on this: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him” (Genesis 1:27). Like a Master Geocacher, God has placed the treasure of His image in every one of us. Instead of merely noticing someone’s outward appearance or behavior and judging them, I need to look for that hidden treasure of God’s image. Many of the people I meet are beautiful inside and out, making it easy to find. For others, it may take a bit of searching on my part, but it’s there nonetheless if I look hard enough.

And that’s what I want to do. From now on, may God grant me the patience to stop looking through the narrow lens of my own prejudices and keep searching for that beautiful hidden treasure within every person I meet.

 

Last month my husband and I finally went on our long-pla...

Last month my husband and I finally went on our long-planned summer vacation to northern Michigan. We were supposed to go last June but it had to be postponed due to a family medical emergency. Our good friends Jacki and Paul organized the entire trip and took us to some of their favorite places, with quaint towns, beautiful forests, and pristine lakes and beaches. Here are just a few of the highlights.

Lake Michigan at Sleeping Bear Dunes National ParkBeneath the breathtaking Mackinac Bridge

Mackinac Island and the historic Grand Hotel.

Biking in Mackinac Island State Park.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Tahquamenon Falls State Park

One of the added bonuses that made the trip especially fun was that our friend Paul is a geocache enthusiast. If you aren’t familiar with the hobby of geocaching, Paul explains it as “the art of using million dollar satellites to find Tupperware in the woods.” According to Wikipedia, geocaching is “an outdoor recreational activity, in which participants use GPS to hide and seek containers called ‘caches’ in specific locations marked by coordinates all over the world.” It was my first time geocaching, and I called it fun!

Each of the places we visited in the photos above also had geocaches hidden nearby. If I’m already visiting a beautiful site like Tahquamenon Falls why not make it even more interesting by adding a treasure hunt?

Here’s a cache we found on Mackinac Island.

And another fun one in Sault Ste. Marie “hidden” right in someone’s front yard.

I’m hooked! You can probably expect another blog about my geocaching adventures in the future. But what I loved about this hobby is that it taught me to open my eyes and take a closer look at my surroundings instead of what’s directly in front of me. I can get so carried away with my camera that I end up seeing everything through that lens instead of looking at things in real life. The GPS coordinates would give the general area of the cache, but I had to look closer and notice little details in order to find what was hidden. Not only did caches come in all sizes and shapes, but some of them were hidden in very creative places. I learned to open my eyes and really see!

Geocaching reminded me of a lesson that our pastor has been trying to impress on us in his sermons lately: that every person on earth deserves to be treated with dignity because he or she has been created in the image of God. Scripture is clear on this: “So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him” (Genesis 1:27). Like a Master Geocacher, God has placed the treasure of His image in every one of us. Instead of merely noticing someone’s outward appearance or behavior and judging them, I need to look for that hidden treasure of God’s image. Many of the people I meet are beautiful inside and out, making it easy to find. For others, it may take a bit of searching on my part, but it’s there nonetheless if I look hard enough.

And that’s what I want to do. From now on, may God grant me the patience to stop looking through the narrow lens of my own prejudices and keep searching for that beautiful hidden treasure within every person I meet.

 

Fearless

The real-life sisters, Agnes and Margaret Smith, who inspired my newest novel, “Where We Belong,” had a favorite motto that continues to intrigue me. Whenever they were in danger or in a precarious situation they would say, “God knows when the end of our days will be. We have nothing to fear.” I borrowed their motto for my fictional sisters, Becky and Flora Hawes, to use whenever they found themselves in a sticky situation. I added a humorous twist to it in one scene when they are onboard a steamship during a ferocious storm at sea:

Flora cried out as the ship suddenly leaned so far to one side she feared it would tip over. Her body was crushed against the wall as her bulky steamer trunk pinned her there. When the ship righted itself a moment later, Becky shoved the trunk away, freeing her.

“Are you all fight, Flora?”

“Yes, I think so.” They both took a moment to steady their nerves and secure their luggage again.

Becky exhaled. “God knows when the hour of our end will be,” she said in a shaky voice. “But I sincerely hope it isn’t tonight.”

It’s one thing for me to be fearless when I’m sitting in my armchair by the fireplace, and quite another when my airplane hits turbulence midway over the Atlantic Ocean. Or when I get bad news from my doctor. I’m not afraid of dying—but I sincerely hope it doesn’t happen yet! We live in fearful times. The most frightening thing about acts of terror is that we never know when or where they may occur. We could be enjoying a concert; sitting in a restaurant; taking in a tourist attraction; attending an office Christmas party; sitting at our desk at work or at school. The suspense of continually looking over our shoulder intensifies the fear—which is the terrorists’ goal.

My niece faced a dilemma. Her fourteen-year-old son wanted to take part in an event called the Life Chain. Participants line up shoulder to shoulder along a busy street and hold up signs to remind the people driving past that “Abortion stops a beating heart,” or “It’s a child, not a choice.” It’s a peaceful, pro-life demonstration that synced well with her son’s passionate, Christian beliefs. Understandably, my niece worried about fanatics or terrorists taking aim at her sweet son and plowing into him on the sidewalk. Should she let him take part? How would you advise her? It’s one thing to be courageous when our own life is at stake and quite another to let our precious children and grandchildren be at risk.

A friend of mine, who is the director of an international prayer ministry, recently met with a group of Christian women from South Korea. She asked how they handled living with the daily threat of destruction from North Korea. The women responded that they didn’t have time to live in fear. They were too busy preparing to flood across the border to bring the hope of the gospel to their North Korean brothers and sisters once the evil regime was finally destroyed.

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about fear lately, and what the Bible has to say about it. Several favorite passages come to mind:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Psalm 23:4).

“The Lord is my light and my salvation—whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life—of whom shall I be afraid?” (Psalm 27:1)

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand” (Isaiah 41:10).

These are great verses to know the next time I’m in danger. But even more, I need to know the Savior who makes those promises. If I’m ever asked to take a courageous stand for my faith, as persecuted Christians in other nations do every day, I want to be fearless, knowing without doubt that the God I know and love is with me. He knows when the end of my days will be. I have nothing to fear.

My Newest Baby

People often ask me which of my books is my favorite. I tell them that my books are like children—I’ve labored hard for many months to give birth to each of them, so how can I choose a favorite? Yet the birth of each new book is very exciting for me. And now I can announce that my newest baby, “Where We Belong,” is here!

I wrote a brief summary of the story in my last blog, and told how it was loosely based on the true story of two remarkable, self-educated sisters, Margaret and Agnes Smith who made the discovery of an important biblical manuscript. Their story inspired me because the sisters felt God urging them to pursue a calling that was “out of the box” in their Victorian era, yet they didn’t allow the social and cultural expectations of their day to stop them from doing it. What if we all lived that fearlessly for God?

I studied very hard when I was in high school so I could go to college and become a clinical psychologist. I clearly recall the day when I met with my high school guidance counselor for advice on which colleges to apply to, and he told me I should re-think my goals. The most suitable careers for women, he said, were teaching and nursing. I didn’t listen to him.

I chose to attend Hope College because I wanted a Christian foundation for my education. And I majored in psychology. Imagine my surprise when my college advisor told me I should pursue a teaching certificate along with my psychology major. He explained that I would need a Master’s degree or PhD. to become a clinical psychologist and I would probably get married and have children before getting that far. I would be wise to have a teaching career to fall back on, he said. (The generations of women after me can be grateful that they aren’t limited to two career choices!)

In hindsight, I can see that it was God who was advising and directing me all along. I’m not sorry that I never became a clinical psychologist. And I’m glad that I worked as a teacher for several years. Majoring in psychology gave me the chance to study human behavior, which helps me immensely in creating my characters and stories.

Each of us will hear a lot of voices telling us what we should do, and what we ought to do, and what society expects us to do. We’ll also hear our own inner voice telling us we can’t, that we aren’t smart enough, or talented enough, or good enough. I hope my newest novel will encourage readers to ignore those other voices and listen to God’s. Like the sisters in “Where We Belong,” we can examine the gifts and resources we’ve been given, along with the unique passions that have touched our hearts, and then decide if we want to live fearlessly for God or not. As you read this story, I hope you’ll decide to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths” (Proverbs 3:5-6). What a difference it will make!

If you would like a chance to win one of two free copies of “Where We Belong,” be sure to leave a comment below or go to my website www.lynnaustin.org to enter.

Coming Soon!

The excitement never grows old. In less than two weeks, my newest novel, “Where We Belong” will be out in bookstores. This is book #25 for me (unbelievable!) yet its release is as exciting to me as book #1 was. I have spent a year working on this manuscript, researching, writing and rewriting, editing and revising. It has required a lot of hard work and many long, lonely hours. And now, readers will probably devour it in a week or two. But that’s okay. More than anything else, I want to give my readers an enjoyable story. Personally, I love to read a book that makes me laugh, makes me cry, and makes me think—don’t you? I hope this one accomplishes all those things.

Chapter One begins in the Sinai Desert in the year 1890. Here are the first two lines, just to whet your appetite:

“Rebecca Hawes lay awake in her tent, convinced that the howling wind was about to lift her entire camp into the air and hurl it to the far side of the desert. The desolate wasteland of the Sinai Peninsula lay beyond her tent door, thousands of miles and a world away from her home in Chicago.”

So, what is this book about? Here is a brief synopsis (without any spoilers. I hate spoilers!):

In the city of Chicago in 1890, the rules and expectations for Victorian women are strict, their roles in life limited. But sisters Rebecca and Flora Hawes are not typical Victorian ladies.Their love of adventure and their desire to use their God-given talents have taken them out of society ballrooms and delivered them to the Sinai Desert—and into the teeth of a sandstorm. Accompanied by Soren Petersen, their somber young butler, and Kate Rafferty, a plucky street urchin learning to be their lady’s maid, the two sisters are on a quest across the desert, chasing rumors of an important biblical manuscript. As the expedition becomes ever more dangerous and uncertain, all four travelers sift through memories and adventures of their past, recalling the events that shaped them, and the journeys and providence that brought them to this very time and place.

There is adventure and romance in this armchair journey into another era. But mostly it’s the story of two unique sisters whose faith leads them to follow God along a very unconventional path. Thirty-three years ago, my life veered away from the ordinary when I left my teaching career to write books. It was a risk I’m glad I took.

So how about you? Have you been on any unusual journeys as you’ve followed God? What risks have you taken?

Be sure to check my blog again in two weeks for a chance to win a free copy of “Where We Belong.”

Nearly Half a Century

Last week, my husband Ken and I celebrated our wedding anniversary, and it was an almost-big one—47 years. We are inching our way toward half a century. And what a crazy, exciting, 47- year ride it has been! When Ken proposed to me he said, “If you marry me we’ll probably never be rich, but we’ll see the world.” And he was right. We met while attending college in Michigan, got married in my home state of New York, and moved to New Haven, Connecticut where we celebrated our first anniversary.

Our very memorable third anniversary was spent camping in a pup tent in Maine and having to evacuate as a hurricane swept up the Atlantic coast. On our 5th anniversary we were living in Bogota, Colombia and trying in vain to find American-style pizza for the celebration. Anniversary #10 was spent in Indiana in 98 degree heat with no central air-conditioning in our tiny, three-bedroom house. We went to the opposite extreme for anniversary #13, living in Thunder Bay, Ontario, Canada, where the weather starts turning frosty in August. And we celebrated # 15 in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada, where the mosquitoes will carry you off as hostages in late August. Twenty of our most recent anniversaries were celebrated in the Chicago area, which has the best pizza in America, by the way. And now, after many vacations and trips to far-flung places, we just spent our 47th anniversary relaxing on our beach in Michigan.

Back when we were newlyweds and needed a car, Ken and I decided to splurge on a little two-seat, burgundy-colored, Triumph Spitfire convertible. We drove that little car all over the country, including a memorable cross-country trek from Connecticut to Anchorage, Alaska where Ken performed for the Alaska Festival of Music. By the time we reached our sixth anniversary, our son Joshua had just been born, and the sports car had to be traded in for a more practical vehicle. What followed were many wonderful, hectic years spent raising our three children, helping them finish school, reach their dreams, and find jobs and spouses. And now Ken and I are alone again, and that’s kind of nice, too. When we first became empty-nesters, we would gaze across the dinner table at each other and jokingly say, “Hey, I remember you!”

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

About a week ago, Ken and I were out for a morning walk when we spotted a cute little second-hand, burgundy-colored, Mazda Miata convertible for sale. Wouldn’t it be fun, we thought, to return to our early years of tooling around the country together, side-by-side with the top down? It didn’t take much to convince each other, and we bought the car as our “almost-fiftieth-anniversary” present to each other.

We were barely out of our teens when we met and married, so we’ve had plenty of time to live, love, and grow old together. We began as best friends and still are. Romance is great, and every marriage needs a strong, healthy dose of it. But there’s a lot to be said for friendship, too—enjoying each other and sharing hobbies and interests. And while I don’t think we’re crazy enough to drive all the way to Alaska again, I’m looking forward to some surprising new adventures in our little sports car as we approach our fiftieth year. So, happy anniversary, Ken! I can’t wait to see where we end up next.

A Wonderful Visit

I just returned from a wonderful visit with my mother and my sister Peggy and her family in the little village in New York State where I grew up. The town is nestled in the Shawangunk Mountains, and seeing the mountains again is like seeing old friends. I always forget how much I’ve missed them while living in the flat Midwest. Peggy and I had a chance to go on several hikes while I was home, taking her new rescue dog, Franny, with us.

We hiked around a mountaintop lake.

And admired the vistas of the valley, below.

We let Franny swim in this creek and she “shared” the cool water with us as she shook herself dry.

We hiked across the Hudson River on a former railroad trestle that has been converted into a rails-to-trails pathway called “Walkway Over the Hudson.”

Hiking in the woods and enjoying nature always restores me. When I take time to look at creation, I’m reminded of what a glorious God we serve. Seeing His infinite creativity renews my own urge to create. And being with my family—the people who know me the best and love me the most—helps me remember who I am and where I’ve come from.

It puts my lifelong journey into perspective and helps me see how God has shaped me along the way. I returned to my home in Michigan refreshed and ready to dig into the work that God has given me to do. My prayer is the same one that Moses prayed:

“Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. Before the mountains were born or you brought forth the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting, you are God. . . .Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. . . . Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. . . . establish the work of our hands for us—yes, establish the work of our hands.” (Psalm 90)