Beverly Varnado's Blog

When it's beyond

When I first submitted a proposal to the publisher for my book, A New Thing, available today, I used this phrase as my tagline:

“When the nextchapter takes you beyond imagination”

That phrase points to a scripture which you will find on mybusiness card, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we askor imagine, according to his power that is at work in us” (Ephesians 3:20). Thissmall-town romance about Sophia, a woman facing an empty nest alone, is full ofsurprises, heartache, and I hope joy. It’s also about how she has self-limitedand not allowed God full reign in her life. There are several nuances to this,but you’ll have to read the book to find out about them.

Let’s not be too judgmental about Sophia. We all do it. We drawour lines in the sand not allowing God to move us beyond them. We want to stay safe,but what we actually do is stay small. We may actually bump up against theboundaries, but we don’t step over them, because who knows what might happen.

We might even fail.

But what if we do?

If God uses all things for good for those who love him asthe word says in Romans 8:28, then he’ll use even our failures for good.

Sometimes, boldness on our part is required and awillingness to go wherever and do whatever God has for us. His promise to us isthe same as it was to Joshua, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; donot be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (Joshua1:9).

When we step beyond those self-imposed lines with the Lord, that’swhere we begin to see the exceedingly and abundantly above all we ask or think.It’s a life of adventure and wonder.

I’d love for you to see if that’s what Sophia found in ANew Thing, but even if you don’t, find it for yourself. Press into all thatGod has for you.

I’d love to hear your stories.

 

A New Thing Ebook available today, print version releasing next Tuesday, October 21.

 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

When the suffering is silent

It’sso easy to overlook what others are going through.

Ihad a conversation with someone recently who has a relative in the public eye.Folks are so awestruck with the relative and her contacts, they forget that therelative suffers on a daily and even hourly basis.

Whenanyone deals with a chronic or ongoing disability, it’s easy to forget whattheir life is like. We move on, and we think they have. But they haven’t. Andbarring a miracle, perhaps never will. And often, they never say a word abouttheir circumstances.

Inmany ways, it’s like grief after a loss. We move out into the world hurting,and yet, the world can’t see and sometimes doesn’t care to see. The world pressesahead. So, we carry the hurt—an invisible wound—and do the best we can.

But,oh, what a blessing it is when someone takes a moment to say in a genuine way, “Howare you, really?” And not just looking for a quick “I’m fine.”

Ittakes a willingness to step into the suffering of another—to bear the burden.

Paulsaid it, “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way, you will fulfill the lawof Christ” (Galatians 6:2). When we risk carrying another’s burdens, it’s notabout being a nice guy, it’s about fulfilling the law of Christ.

Asmy recent experience has reminded me, it could just as well be any of us in the difficultcircumstance. And it only takes a moment in time for our situation to bechanged.

So,let us all be challenged to stop in our busyness, which often is nothing morethan a distraction, look around, and reach out to those who may be suffering silently.

Theywill be blessed, and so will you.

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

Finally, A New Thing

Here I am with the cover art for A New Thing

Inlate 2023, I made a list of several writing projects for 2024. Among them, “FinishA New Thing.” This was a sequel to my other small-town romances. It’sabout a single mother trying to figure out what her next chapter is when shefaces an empty nest—thetitle came from thisverse, “Behold, I am doing a new thing” (Isaiah 43:19). Especially exciting is my grandson pilot was a source for the flying element in the book. I began writing this storyin 2022, and it hovered around halfway finished when I made the list.

Iwrote the first draft for another project on the list before I began pluggingaway on A New Thing in the Spring of 2024, but I did finish and started theediting process. I submitted the manuscript to my then publisher in late summerwho wanted to put this book under contract but also others in the series whosecontracts had expired. Great, I thought, we’re on our way. So, we went throughthe tedious process of resigning all the contracts.

Sadly,only a couple of months later, that publisher went under, and I was back whereI started with a finished manuscript and no home for it. You can imagine howdisappointing it was after two years of work already.

Whatmade it especially difficult was the book was dedicated to a friend whoinspired the character of Connie. This character appears in every book in theseries. The real-life Connie now had ALS and barring a miracle, she was on aticking clock. I hoped to get the book out soon, so she could see it.

Iprayed, and then went through the lengthy process of putting together a proposaland submitted to the wonderful Elk Lake Publishing who had published  my book In Search of the Painted Bunting.One of my best Christmas gifts in 2024 was receiving the contract they offeredme for A New Thing during the week of Christmas.

So,the book was off again, and the edits were going along fine. We were down tothe final one, and as I’ve written here before, I had an accident whichfractured both wrists mid-May this year which required surgery. The final setof edits came three days later, but there was nothing I could do with bothhands in immobilizing casts that went from my fingers to over my elbows for weeks.So, a family member communicated my situation to the publisher, who was sogracious about it. But still, there was more waiting to get back on track. Assoon as the casts were off, even with my splints, I managed to get those finaledits done.

Sadly,we lost our beloved Connie in mid-August. I have been so disappointed shedidn’t get to see the book in print. But for me, she lives on in this story, througha character inspired by her joyous and kind spirit.

Sonow, we are headed to galleys, which is the last step in the process. I don’tknow all of God’s plans for this book, but it has had a winding and challenging path, so Ibelieve something good is ahead. I pray readers find hope and spiritual encouragementin its pages...and maybe even a laugh.

Jesusoften used stories to communicate his message. He could have made a list ofthings to do and not do. He could have written essays and read them. But no, heoften told stories. I hope to emulate Jesus in trying to communicate the gospeltruth woven through the pages of my books. There are folks who are much betterat it than I am, but I try to be faithful in using the gift God has given me.

Ifthere is one thing I can offer from this book’s journey, it is if we feel thatGod has called us to something, we don’t give up, even in the face ofimpossibility. When the first publisher went out of business, I wondered what Iwould do, but I prayed, regrouped, and Elk Lake Publishing offered another contract. Whenmy wrists fractured, again, I wondered how I would get the edits done, but Godhelped me to do it much sooner than I expected. If you’re facing a challengethat goes on and on, pray, keep God’s calling and purpose in mind and face thefuture with hope.

So,stay tuned. Very soon, I hope to share the release of A New Thing.

Encouragingwords about A New Thing:

If you are looking for asweet, small-town romance with all the southern, cozy feels—A New Thing couldbe the book for you! A story of second chances and forgiveness, thisheartwarming Christian fiction will invite you into the lives of uniquecharacters in the charming town of Worthville, touching on challenges of theempty nest, running a business, complex family relationships, and thepossibility of romance. A delightful, encouraging read… perfect, ofcourse, with a glass of sweet tea!

—Laura Thomas,award-winning Christian fiction author

Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

Holding on to the promises

As wedrove to a church meeting last week, we emerged from a thunderstorm to a mammothrainbow in the sky ahead of us. As I took in its beauty, I was reminded of atime decades ago when I was high over the Atlantic on a trip to England and outsidemy plane window a rainbow arced across the blue. At the time, I dealt with aheavy situation in my life, but when that rainbow appeared, I heard in myspirit the Lord’s voice saying, “Haven’t I been faithful to this promise?”

                                            Photo used courtesy of Margie Hancock

Theclarity of God's presence shook me a moment, but I agreed, “Yes, Lord you have been.”And so, I was reminded again to release my doubts because God would be faithfulin my current situation to fulfill his promise that he would never leave me orforsake me.

As Iremembered that time long ago and reflected on a current particularlychallenging difficulty and God’s promise in it, another driver slammed their car into us from behind. Although it was quite a jolt, itdidn’t seem there was damage to any of us or to our cars, so we went on to thechurch.

But I’vecontinued to think about that jolt coming just as I was reflecting on thepromises of God.

Holding onto God’s promises does not mean we won’t encounter jolts. After my recentaccident, one of the verses I clung to most was from the apostle Paul, “We get knockeddown, but we are not destroyed.”  Thatphrase comes from 2 Corinthians 4, “We are pressed on every side by troubles,but we are not crushed. We are perplexed but not driven to despair. We arehunted down but never abandoned by God. We get knocked down, but we are notdestroyed. Through suffering, our bodies continue to share in the death ofJesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.”

Throughevery jolt in life, we continue to hold fast to God and his promises. Wecontinue to believe what is true—His word found in scriptures.

At times,we feel the challenge is so great that we will not be able to bear it, that itwill snuff out our light. I have certainly felt that way at times. But here’s thething—we can’t bear it on our own. We can only do it through Christ who givesus strength(Philippians 4:13).

So, if you’vebeen jolted recently, still cling to God’s powerful promises. Don’t let themgo. Let them be for you the lifeline that they are. Remember, God has beenfaithful to all his promises. 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

The greatest comfort

Whilewalking in my neighborhood a couple of weeks ago, I came around a corner as thesun was setting to the west. Light was peaking through in spots, but what caught my eye, was a rose glimmer that shone on a dark forebodingcloud. I snapped a few pictures comforted by that luminous glow against thedarkness.

“Thelight shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:5),” the disciple John likely wrote inEphesus at the end of the first century. It was a time of persecution for theearly Christians, and I wonder if John was trying to encourage these Ephesian believers amidmalignment and extreme cruelty threatening them.

Ilove what the Tyndale commentary says about the verse. “. . . he (John) isstating that the light has been shining and is still shining, and never has thedarkness been able to obliterate it.” And as to the verb tense in the last partof the verse, “. . . implies that there has never been a single instance ofsuch a defeat. The most signal example of the failure of the darkness was its inabilityto destroy Jesus. He, the true light, still shines on.”

Nomatter how it may sometimes seem that the darkness is overcoming the light, “He,the true light, still shines on.” John faced tough times including attempts onhis own life, with hope and truth, not despair. And so, we must as well.

Weremember Jesus’ words, “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:14). Jesusis still shining through us. In every place and at all times, we can allow Jesusto manifest his life in us. It’s a challenge to ever keep Jesus front andcenter in our lives, but if we name the Name, then that is the standard.

Lastweek was a dark week for many with the September 11 anniversary and the tragic and senseless assassination of Charlie Kirk. In times like these, we hold on to theLight that never has and never will be overcome by the darkness. And that my friendsbrings the greatest comfort of all. 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

When we stand together

Oneof my neighbors with a heavily wooded lot relandscaped his front yard earlierthis year. He took down many trees in the process but left one magnificent whiteoak. Months later, one of our summer thunderstorms blew through and strippedthe tree of one of its main branches. The fallen limb left a huge jagged scar--painful to see. The significant damage to the oak forced the homeowner to remove it.

Later, my neighbor told me the initiallyhealthy white oak may have suffered because the others around it were removed.I learned the results of this removal can cause “forest edge effect.”  The tree, previously sheltered, was exposed tomore intense sunlight, stronger winds, and may have also weakened because itsroots had been interdependent with the other trees around it. All you forestersout there feel free to weigh in if I’ve missed something.

Itseems to me a strong metaphor for those who try to go it alone without the body of Christ. We can’t. That’s why the apostle Paul said, “And let us notneglect our meeting together . . .” (Hebrews 10:25 NLT).

Pullingaway from the body exposes and weakens us because we are interdependent on eachother. The body of Christ is a living breathing thing, and we find life in it. Andsure, we can see God on the golf course or at the lake, but if we make a habit of choosing other places over connecting with the body of Christ, we must understand those other places do not substitute for the body of Christ, and we will suffer.Of course, there are those who for health reasons cannot take part, but Godunderstands that, and I believe will reveal himself in special ways to thosewho are house bound. I know he did this for me when I was unable to be part ofchurch gatherings because of my recent accident. And also, because I was part of the body, those people came to me to bring encouragement and practical help. Such a blessing.

Inthe body, we not only receive encouragement, but hope, protection, and accountability. We arereminded of who we are and whose we are. We find joy and love there.

So,if you’ve pulled back for one reason or another, don’t be that one lone tree and get "forest edge effect." Drawclose. Take a hand. Stay connected. Allow the Lord to minister to you through His people. Andlike my neighbor found, we trees are stronger because we stick together.

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

Four Sweet Things in the Hard

Thisis the third and final piece about the accident I suffered back in Mayresulting in two fractured risks. I’m moving on to other topics in the weeksahead. If you missed the earlier posts, just keep scrolling below. And therewere more than four sweet things, but I might wear you out talking about themall!!!

Wetried to manage post-surgery pain as best we could but still, things got out ofcontrol. I gave birth to a ten-pound baby, and managed a major surgery withacetaminophen, but this was still challenging. “There’ll be a lot of pain thefirst few days,” the discharge nurse had said. She did not overpromise. Onemorning around 5:30 a.m. when the pain reached a new height it was justbeginning to get light outside. I was praying, praising, and singing, becausethanksgiving proceeds the miracle, and I sure hoped for relief from this pain.

Sweetthing number one—Thecurtains on the big window in the bedroom where I was were not completelyclosed leaving a gap midway to the floor. A shadow moved across the yard, andthen a face appeared—a doe. She stood there a long time staring in at me. Ithought of Hagar who in her grief and pain said, “You are the God who sees me.”It seemed to me that God sent that doe to remind me that he saw me. This doewould hang around in our yard and weeks later, give birth to a little one.

Ithad taken two plates, eighteen screws, and forty-four stitches to put my wristsback together. In the grief process when somethinglike this happens, I sometimes felt anger, but I knew whenmany Biblical characters like Hagar found themselves in hard desert-like times, those timesproved to be pivotal. God wants to use these circumstances as a foundation for the work He has for us. I prayed that it would be true of me. Prior to the accident, I had alreadybeen asking God what my next chapter needed to be. Did I need to alter mydirection in any way? I was sure listening.

Sweetthing number two—AsI wrote in another post, for a few days after surgery, I was in a fog, but whenit began to lift, I accepted my neighbor and friend, Lilyan’s offer to comeover and read my Bible and devotions to me. I still couldn’t control my fingersenough to turn a page. On the first day, she read from Psalm 143, the nextreading in my read-through-the-Bible list. “The enemy pursues me, he crushes meto the ground.” It did feel as if the enemy had wanted to take me out in thisaccident, but God had intervened. And then in Psalm 145, she read, “The Lord istrustworthy in all he promises and faithful in all he does. The Lord upholdsall who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down.” The word seemed just for methat morning and brought with it so much encouragement. This was just oneexample of the times the Lord showed up as we met together to examine the wordof God. Sometimes it was even funny. One day, Lilyan turned to a devotion.“This one is entitled ‘Hardships.’ Do you want to skip it?”

Weboth laughed knowing the time for skipping anything had long passed. Themessage in that devotion of God’s love being constant despite difficulty and changeresonated deeply. That message continued in a Sunday School lesson we coveredabout the rebuilding of the temple and how the exile had nearly destroyed thelives of the Jews, but God returned them to their land, and it was interestingthe wording here, “Though life may shatter, God’s love never does.”

God’spresence was so real in our midst that I wanted to say, “Holy Spirit, are youcomfortable. Would you like coffee?” Here’s the thing, even in toughtimes, if we know God is with us and that He loves us, we can face it withgreater courage.

Inone moment in time, I was plunged into the world of disability, and even as atourist, because I had the hope of getting better, it was breathtaking. Theweeks I spent in that world have sensitized me to a way of life that not manyof us want to think about. I was living in a “I can’t imagine . . .” world,because I heard that phrase so many times. “I can’t imagine what it would belike to not have my hands.” I didn’t have to imagine anymore. I knew.

I’llnever look at another doorknob the same way as I have in the past. They wereimpossible for me to turn, and I had a fear of getting trapped in the house inthe event of a fire. The wrist is a complicated thing and for weeks aftersurgery, the wrists were immobilized to promote healing and maintain alignment.The twisting motion could disrupt that.

Sweetthing number three—Jerryspent hours swapping our twisting doorknobs to levers, so that I could exit anyroom or exterior doors with no issues. Such a blessing.

Butbeing in that situation sensitized me to how folks with permanent disabilitiessee the world and how limiting it can be if accessibility has not beenconsidered. I have a different perspective on how it makes one feel when we areblocked from the pathways that others use so easily. I am thankful for thosewho continue to lobby for accessibility for those who have disability. And as Isaid earlier, I don’t think I’ll ever enter a room without thinking aboutwhether the doorknob allows for those with disability to enter it as well.

Anotherunexpected thing that happened to me was that I felt shame over the accident. Iknow that it may be challenging to understand, but I did. I felt shame that mybones weren’t strong enough to withstand the accident. I later learned thatshame it is not uncommon for folks with disability to feel this way, and I would have neverbeen able to understand that if I had not passed this way. I also feltembarrassed that I couldn’t use my hands, that I was essentially helpless.

Sweetthing number four—Butreading Katherine Wolfe’s writing helped me. She points out that we are allhelpless, it’s just that when something like this happens to you, you know it.But we really walk around helpless all the time, because our lives are totally dependenton God. It was an opportunity to reconnect with that truth and ponder how muchmore dependent on God I need to be and realize that it is only “In him we moveand live and have our being.” If you don’t know Katherine’s writing, please,please check it out.

I’llstop here for now and move on to another topic next week. I am still in process and will keepwriting about my experience with this accident but share it in another way orat another time. Again, I pray that some of my ponderings will bringencouragement to you. I leave you with what has become my mantra, the apostlePaul’s words, “ . . we are knocked down, but we are not destroyed”(2Corinthians 4:9 NLT). Let those words carry you through whatever difficultchallenge you may face. Blessings, friends.

 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

Why Me? or What Now?

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();“Why Me or What Now” is part two of a series about a freak accident, which left me with two fractured wrists. It highlights God’s work and faithfulness during this time. If you missed part one, “My “Help and Stay,” just scroll down. I’m continuing to pray that someone else might find hope in a situation where they too, were jolted into a challenging circumstance.

Thenext day after the accident, help began streaming in—from family, from neighbors,from friends, and from church family. Meal after meal magically landed in ourkitchen. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but those that were helping me didand sure didn’t have time to cook. Our church is in the next town over, so someof our church members traveled at least an hour to bring food. And this went onfor weeks.

Whenwe brought our son home, we looked at him a few days in, and said “How could anine-pound baby turn the whole house upside down?” Well, I was a much biggerbaby than that with my inability to help myself, and I had turned the housetopsy turvy. Ours was an unmanageable situation with just Jerry and me. But we would find we had an embarrassment of riches in family and friends. Therewas no way he could do all my jobs and his jobs here, as well as pastor a church, so ourdaughter Bethany came to organize meals, help with caregiving for a time, and  put together clothing I could get on over thehuge casts. Our daughter Mari hired caregivers and housekeepers, and our sonAaron who was sick himself at the time later stepped in to help with essentialwork. My sister, Tammy, Mari, and our friend Marni scoured the internet forhelpful clothing and equipment that would make our lives easier. Our foyer looked like a warehouse with the Amazondriver's daily visits.

Ididn’t know as I sat in the hand specialist’s office that weeks later I would later learn hewas also an artist. While an undergraduate at the University of North Carolina,before his orthopedic ambitions, he drew a picture of outreached hands with the scripture Luke 9:1-6, which includes Jesus instructions to the disciples, "...He sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal the sick." It is an astounding prophetic drawingwhich hangs in his office today. It was this believing physician who put my wristsback together.

Ihad a choice about whether to have surgery, but I was told my hands could growback pointing upward or inward if I didn’t, so for me there was no choice. Myhands were how I did all the things I loved to do and often how I served theLord. I decided to go forward at once, and the surgery was thankfully scheduledfor the next day. I was a deer in the headlights with things happening soquickly.

Oneof my biggest concerns was my lungs. I’d had trouble recovering from pneumoniain January and here in May, I was still using a maximum dose with my inhaler.But once contacted, my pulmonologist sent a message that he believed I’d befine. His confidence boosted mine and when I arrived the next day for thesurgery, I had no fear.

Oneway God showed up on the day of surgery is through a group gathered in thewaiting room surrounding a young woman who also faced surgery. We found outthey were from a church, and she was afraid, crying in fact. I rose from myseat, knelt beside her, and had an opportunity to encourage her. Then I asked,“Could I pray for you?” She nodded and it was such a sweet time. The groupbegan listening to the pastor’s wife who was leading in prayer through a zoomcall. They stopped her and requested she pray for me—so precious. Then when thedoc visited me before surgery, he asked me if he could pray for me. I experiencedsuch a sense of the Lord’s presence that entire morning.

When I awoke, I felt much as I did when I wentin, just groggier. My new casts were still from above elbow but at least stopped abit shorter at my knuckles. I was still swollen and if I’m honest, still feltas if I were in a nightmare. But I was going home, I wouldn’t be alone, and Iknew God was with me.

Theday after the surgery, Bethany knelt beside me and said, “Mom, you know whensomething bad happens, sometimes something else bad happens.” I nodded bracingmyself for what she might say. I knew that scenario all too well. “Well, yourcloset rods have fallen.”

Sureenough, for some unknown reason, every rod on one side had given way andcollapsed. I sighed. Really in the scheme of things, it didn’t matter, I wasnot going to be using much from that closet anyway since I was so limited inwhat I could wear. “Just close the door. We’ll deal with it later,” I told her.

Andwe did. But as I thought about it, those closet rods would provide another metaphorfor what was happening in my life.

Acouple of weeks later, my son came, and I gave him instructions. He took everythingfrom the closet, so the shelves and rods could be repaired. I decided since itwas empty, it was time to purge, because my closet had become something of amuseum. And then slowly for a few minutes a day since I really couldn’t be upfor long at a time (anesthesia effects and other reasons), with one of myhelpers to be my hands, we evaluated what to keep and what to let go of. Bagafter bag was carried away.

Inmy life, everything had fallen. My life closet of to do lists had been cleanedout—my projects, my lifelong position as a church pianist, my writing (finaledits for a new book came in three days after the accident), and painting.

Aquestion folks often ask at a time like this is, “Why?” or its variation “Whyme?” I gave up that question twenty-five years ago when a friend took her ownlife and that event coupled with earlier trauma sent me into post-traumaticstress. Just as I was improving a couple of years later, I was diagnosed withbreast cancer when my children were six and eight. But by then, I’d given up on“Why?” because the Lord had shown me that I didn’t have the puzzle pieces to understandthe answer to that question—it was the finite trying to understand the infinite.“Why me?” leads to fist shaking at God demanding he defend himself. It leads toa dying spirit and really no exit door. I learned to trust God and His reasonsfor why he allowed all of it to happen. 

The question I began to ask all thoseyears ago was  “What now?” which is apath to a renewed spirit, and God’s unlimited possibilities. Theanswer to that had to do with writing—in fact, the beginning of the books andblog posts was during that time. That was the answer to my “What now?” then,and I thought would continue to be so, but God might want to do something new.We’d see.

Mysituation with two fractured wrists would take praying and pondering. During thistime, the Lord instructed me not to move too fast into telling the story butgive myself time to process. I wondered what I would put back into my closetand what  I would let go of. We’d see. Butagain, in the meantime I saw so many ways God was present and with me. That wasmore than enough. 

Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

My Help and Stay

Asmany of you know, a few months ago, a freak accident left me with both wristsfractured. I didn’t struggle with writing about the accident because writing isthe way I process things. I struggled with sharing that writing, especially consideringother horrific things happening in the world—this seemed to pale in comparison.

Inone way, I just wanted to move on, but in another, these reflections are mytestimony of God’s work and faithfulness. The thing is, I can’t just move onand pretend this life-changing event never happened. It is taking months of mylife to reach a level comparable to where I was before this happened, and I amstill in process. It has affected more than just my body.

Myhope is that someone else facing a comparable situation will draw courage andhope from these words. Maybe it won’t be two fractured wrists, but anothersituation that jolts you into a new reality. In any event, here is part one ofthe story. I start in the emergency room and leave the details of how theaccident happened for another time. It is my prayer that God uses this story for Hispurposes.

Thenurse said, “Your hips and spine are fine, but your wrists . . .” He paused.

“Iknow,” I responded and no more was said. I knew one of my wrists was broken,but I had held onto hope that one of them was just sprained, but it was not tobe. A short time later, a young man and woman entered my room and proceeded tocover both arms with casts that reached from the second joint in my fingers toabove my elbow.

Thedoctor said each time she entered, “I am so sorry.”

Iwas asked whether I had family at home to take care of me. “Because if youdon’t,” a nurse said, “we’d need to see about you going to a rehab facility.”

Oh,mercy. What was happening? Thankfully, I had people, which was such a blessing,but I felt for those in this situation who didn’t.

Iwas instructed to see an orthopedic the next day. As we left for home, I tookpain and nausea medicine or rather the medicine was given to me. It was then Irealized that I could not get anything to my mouth by myself. The reality ofthe situation was just beginning to settle into my spirit.

Iinitially saw a general trauma orthopedic, and more x-rays were made. There wasthe hope for a more conservative treatment which would avoid surgery, but thefinal decision would be made by  a handspecialist I was scheduled to see a few days later when swelling had subsided abit. He would give guidance on what needed to happen next.

Inwhat would be called in the literary world a foreshadowing, in early May I haddropped my cell phone face down on the driveway. I cringed as I picked it up,almost sure of what I would find. Sure enough, the protective screen was pockedwith lines spreading out in every direction like a spider’s web.We’d been discussing getting new phones, so I didn’t hurry to replace thescreen, and for a couple of weeks, I viewed my phone world through a shatteredoverlay of glass.

AsI later sat in the hand specialists’ office with still swollen arms and fingers,I held onto hope I might escape surgery and get shorter casts, but he insteadspoke about the right hand where bones were fractured and out of alignment. Andthen he said,  “But the left wrist isshattered into multiple pieces.” 

When the doctor said the word shattered about my hand, it mirrored my spirit, the cracks inthe whole of me spreading just like they did on my phone screen. And it felt asif the pock marks went straight to my core. In the days since the accident, Ihad become a person who could do nothing for themselves. I could not eat,bathe, or anything else, really. I could pull a cup with a straw to me, butthat’s about it. All the things I love to do—the writing, the painting, andbeing a pianist were on hold for who knew how long. I could not even manage aphone button because my fingers shook so much. I could pray, but even that wastempered by a haze of mental fog with pain meds which I always try to avoid, but in this instance, itdidn’t seem possible. I had issues with my back which made it difficult towalk or get in and out of bed, which also required help. Yeah, I felt shattered.I was not only looking at my phone through a shattered lens, but also my life.

Andyet, lines from an old hymn, “My Hope is Built,”  kept circling in my mind “…when all around my soulgives way, He then is all my help and stay.” It did seem as if my very soul threatenedto give way, but God reminded through these words and so many other ways that He was with me, and would continue to be so. More about that in the future.

Inthis very place when we have figuratively or in my case literally lost our grip,we find what will hold. And I am here to tell you, God will hold, even when wefeel we can’t.

Asthe hymn says our hope can only be built on Jesus, not in an outcome that mayor may not happen. Even now, as I begin to regain range of motion, I still havelimitations which I pray in time will resolve. I don’t know about that, but myhope is in Jesus. I continue to cling to the One who does not change and who isever present. It is my prayer that you, too, will find Jesus as your own “helpand stay” if your soul threatens to give way because of a life alteringcircumstance, and that in Him you will find everything you need—comfort, theability to perseverance, grace, patience, and a very realsense of His presence.

Until next time, I leave you with these words, friends, “Godis our refuge and strength, an ever present help in trouble” (Psalm46:1).

 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023

The Joy of the Lord--Her Strength

Dueto an accident on May 15 in which both wrists were fractured, I have notposted on my blog since that time. It has been a long recovery, and I am stillin process. I had hoped to begin next week with regular posts. But the loss ofan extraordinary person has prompted me to come in a week early. I hope whenyou read this, you will be inspired by the life of our wonderful Connie.

The joy of the Lord is my strength” (Nehemiah 8:10).

Thoseof you who have read my small-town fiction series may remember a characternamed Connie. The character Connie was inspired by attributes of a real-lifeperson also named Connie. There is another book in that series releasing thisfall in which something big happens to the character. In real life, the biggestthing possible happened to our Connie this week—she crossed over into the armsof Jesus.

Ifyou asked twenty people who knew Connie what her most memorable characteristic was,everyone would say her laughter. In any space she occupied, she filled it withan undeniable joy.

photos by Andrea Edmunds

Iknow her from our church where Jerry is the pastor. If Connie was in thebuilding, you knew it. Her joyous outbursts would reach you from wherever shewas, and you really didn’t care why she was laughing, you wanted to laugh, too.

Butthat laughter was not superficial, it stemmed from the joy of the Lord and wentto her very soul.

Connie had a wit about her that enabled her to call out a situation like the Emperor’s New Clothes,the thing no one wanted to say, but she could say it and make us laugh.

She would often tell me I was beautiful (we were all beautiful to her), encourageme in my work, and say that she loved me. She did this for everyone she knew. And she was a kid magnet, one of the qualities you will find in my book character.

Shewas a determined, smart, and brave person who, having left college without adegree early in her life, went back at the age of fifty-six, and finished the requirementsfor a Bachelor of Science degree in accounting--all while working a full-timejob.

Diagnosed with ALS a couple of years ago, Connie started with symptoms thatmost see at the end of the cruel disease, which greatly affected her vocal cords. In timewe lost that wonderful laughter. But when you visited her, you could still seeit in her eyes, because that joy was there even in the face of her difficult circumstances. And she could still make us laugh, laboriously using her iPadwith her weakened hands and fingers to give us a few words.

Andalways, she wanted us to know she loved us.

Someoneonce asked John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, what it was that distinguishedthe people called Methodist. He replied, “Our people die well.”

Iam here to tell you, our friend Connie died well. That’s because she lived well,she lived strong, and she lived in the joy of the Lord.

I’vehad the sense before when I lost someone dear to me, that it’s as if someonewalked to a doorway, turned off the light switch, and closed the door. It’sthat way with Connie. Her light is now shining in heaven, and she won’t be withus the same way she has been in the past. But she does live on in memory, and wewill always hold the sound of her laughter in our hearts.

During the recent time when I couldn't use my hands due to the fractures, every day I thought of Connie who also couldn't use her hands and still maintained a joyous spirit. It helped me to remember her attitude, because barring a miracle she did not have the hope of recovery. Her example was such a guiding light to me.

I tend to be a serious person, but the legacy and challenge Connie has left me is to continue to find laughter and joy even amid suffering. And when I do, I will remember her.

Perhaps,you might do the same. She and the Lord would love it if you did.

 

var _gaq = _gaq || []; _gaq.push(['_setAccount', 'UA-24260977-1']); _gaq.push(['_trackPageview']); (function() { var ga = document.createElement('script'); ga.type = 'text/javascript'; ga.async = true; ga.src = ('https:' == document.location.protocol ? 'https://ssl' : 'http://www') + '.google-analytics.com/ga.js'; var s = document.getElementsByTagName('script')[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s); })();Beverly Varnado's most recent book is In Search of the Painted Bunting, a middle grade historical from Elk Lake Publishing, #1 in new releases in its category. She is also the author of several small town romances from Anaiah Press including her latest, A Season for Everything. All are available at Amazon. To explore the web version of One Ringing Bell, please visit bev-oneringingbell.blogspot.comTo sign up for her newsletter, go to http://eepurl.com/dHNdsX Beverly Varnado copyright 2023