my author friend

One woman I met last weekend is an author. She wrote a devotional filled with poems, essays, verses, and the beautiful photography of amateurs. It was the day it was to be sent to the publisher when the Lord spoke to her heart and told her that the book wasn't finished yet, that she needed to include the part of her life from which this whole book would be more clearly understood and received. It was His project, His book, so it must be included. Turned out to be the easiest portion to write, at least as far as the mechanics.

We sat there at breakfast, and with equal parts hesitation and determination, proceeded to tell us her story. Her brother had a friend who offered to give her a ride home. He dropped off the other person, then drove her into the country and raped her. She didn't tell anyone because she was a nobody, and he was captain of the football team. She was only 16, and she didn't know how to tell her parents. She didn't know how to tell anyone. Everything she felt was a gobbledy gook of she didn't even know what.

She dove into drugs and alcohol to try to silence the demons and simply cope with an inner landscape that had been brutally bloodied and left to vultures. "I should be dead from all the things I've done. I remember roller skating backwards down a freeway on-ramp--at night." Like that wasn't eye-popping enough, another gal at the table starts laughing and nodding her head, clearing relating and saying, 'Uh huh! Uh huh! I'm with ya!"

The emails she's receiving from women whose lives have been shredded by this horrific violence are pouring in and confirming that God knew what He was doing. Without that background in the book, these readers wouldn't have been able to relate like they can now--and perhaps move toward the healing they so desperately are looking for. And even readers who haven't been through what she has can see the tremendous power and grace of God moving along with her on the road to "peace and purpose."

We were total strangers 12 hours earlier. She was amazed too. She shook her head and said, "I had no intention of telling that story this weekend. I've only told this out loud one other time." It's easier to confide in strangers though, don't you think? I don't know that she'll ever see us again. Very present, however, was that inward knowledge that we are siblings, sisters who hadn't met yet.

I did ask if she brought her book with her, but she said no. She gave me a bookmark and wrote down the website. I checked it out when I got home, and I couldn't believe how expensive it is for a paperback, $30+... Maybe I'll see if the library can get it. I'm just glad to have met this remarkable woman whose spirit was absolutely charming. She has that childlike quality tempered by a season in the crucible, ultimately a beautiful work of art in the Potter's hands.

my Walk With Christ weekend

A week before my Walk weekend, I was so done with it. I was completely annoyed by Kev’s vagueness, incompleteness, or total avoidance of questions and comments having to do with the Walk. What are we--ten?! I just wanted it to be over. Totally fleshy. Nasty stuff.

My sweet, sweet sponsor picked me up and had a friend in tow who wanted to “join the party.” Sigh… We went out for dinner, which actually is always fun. A new Mexican restaurant I’d never tried. Good stuff.

We arrived at the church, and they got me all set up, boot camp style quarters with everyone lining both sides of the room like ladyfingers. An icebreaker provided opportunity to meet people, after which we said goodbye to our sponsors.

From that point on for the next three days were series of instructions, speakers, surprises, bathroom lines, formatted prayer, hard nights, worship, discussion, and great food. Keeping you off balance is one key to the impact of the surprise. Okay, I’m a little more understanding now of the reason behind the vagueness. No one wants you to open your Christmas present until the proper time.

Along with wondering about Kev’s reaction to whatever event just went down, I kept thinking the whole time of how each of my Ya-Yas would react. I kept noting what you all probably would and wouldn’t like. If you have trouble not being allowed to do something whenever you want, that’d be a negative here.

Kev said God's timing was all over this because he can’t think of any other time he would’ve been open to going. There was prayer all over this weekend starting months ago, for the event and all the people involved. We feel like we’re part of a kind of club now. The sound of that word “club” is distasteful, but we can’t think of a better word yet. It’s not a secret society, but not wanting to expose the surprises truly is a worthy aim, and it's what you all have in common now.

I’m still processing, but at least now I’m not waking up with faces, moments, and random thoughts from the weekend racing through my mind. It’s a little calmer, and I’m looking forward to an even greater calm, the kind that comes two weeks down the road after all the mental stuff has lost steam and wants to just hunker down somewhere now. Routine is the sanity of life.

We’re glad we went, and although Kev probably won’t be involved with any Walks in the future, I might be. Probably the control girl in me. I've read this book, and it's a pretty good one, so I might like reading it again sometime.