Author Archives: caverns of my mind

Word to my Motha!

fruitfulness

When I was growing up my mother would occasionally get “a word from God” for somebody, or a scripture she felt God wanted her to give to one of my sisters.  Stacy, my oldest sister, got Jeremiah 29:11, my favorite scripture in the entire Good Book.

11 For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.

But Mom never had anything for me.

Then, a few months ago she called to let me know she had been reminded of a scripture God showed her when I was born.

John 12:24: I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat is planted in the soil and dies, it remains alone. But its death will produce many new kernels—a plentiful harvest of new lives.

As she revealed this to me, all I could think at first was that dead kernels of wheat did not seem nearly as exciting as God giving me a future and a hope.  What was this supposed to mean?

Of course it came with a story.  I knew I wasn’t exactly a “planned pregnancy”; I’m the youngest, so my parents had planned to stop after my middle sister Lisa.  I also knew my parents had thought I would be a boy, but that’s as much as I knew.  Apparently my mom figured since I was a surprise God must be planning to give her the boy she’d always wanted and she even told people she was having a boy.  In fact, in my parents’ certainty, the name Jason had been chosen.  Then there I was…not. a. boy.

The above scripture had been brought to Mom’s attention around that time and she realized that perhaps her desire of having a boy was the kernel of wheat that had to die in order to give life to something else-me- and I’m pretty awesome, so I guess that worked out after all (I’m really only half kidding).

Also, remember my parents had not even bothered to pick out a girl’s name so when I was born, my mom said the Lord gave her my name, Terri Lynn, and she realized later that Terri actually means “to reap,” or in other words, be fruitful, just like the last part of the scripture (when I was a kid the word reap actually freaked me out, so I went with the other meaning of my name- caring one).  So, for whatever reason, my mom had to let her dream of having a boy die and produce me, the new fruitful kernels.

As my mom told me this I began to wonder how I am fruitful and what this means for me.  Robert and I have not had, nor do we plan to have children because we never felt to urge to do so, so it has to be a more of a symbolic fruitfulness.  I feel this lends itself as support that God is calling me to somehow reach out to others more, and possibly towards my passion of ending human trafficking.  The name Terri is originally derived from Teresa, and that always makes me think of Mother Teresa, a woman used by God to be fruitful, though she obviously had no children of her own either.  I’d be honored to follow in such footsteps.  I ask to be less of me and more of Him.

fruit

Go Ye into All the World

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When you want to do world missions, local people tend to get upset.

“Why go other places when we have so much need right here?” they ask, and not often in a friendly manner either.

My simple answer: Because God said so.  Don’t believe me?  Check it out in Mark 16:15.  But seriously, I’m sure most people have heard this scripture before, even if they didn’t give it much thought; yet, words with no action often go ignored.

Honestly though, it’s also because we can do both local and world missions, but some are called more for one than the other.  Needy and hurting people exist worldwide and to all different degrees.  Needs and hurts must be addressed EVERYWHERE.  But if you think about it, not everyone is cut out to go to obscure and dangerous villages in remote locations of Africa or Central or South America, risking gruesome deaths by primitive weapons or debilitating diseases.  Not everyone can endure the frigid climate of the Arctic in order to bring God and hope to those natives who can only be reached by special snow vessels (or ice flow, if you have the time).  Even going to safer regions still often involves risk, adjustment, and facing the unknown.

For those people, there are local missions.  This could be getting involved by building a home with Habitat for Humanity, hosting a clothing or food drive for a local food pantry, or just stopping in next door to visit an elderly widow who lives alone.  Basically, whenever you take a step out of your comfort zone and sacrifice some of your personal time, expecting nothing in return but the satisfaction of knowing you were able to put a smile on someone’s face, you are showing God’s much needed love, and you CAN change the world, just one person at a time.  We all have to start somewhere.

“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.”

Dr. Seuss, The Lorax

Making an Example of My Marriage

My marriage is far from perfect, so why would God use it as an encouraging example to others?  Maybe exactly for that reason.  I am certain He is the only reason we managed to remain together, for there were a few times I think one or both of us could have walked away from the whole thing and decided it wasn’t worth the trouble, the hurt, the commitment to another person with his or her own ideas and agendas. But in that dark time when Robert was unemployed and most couples would have allowed that stress to come between them, we recognized it as a time we most needed God in our lives, and we had faced some financial issues not long before that time that nearly ended our marriage and literally left me with my head between my knees just trying to breathe, so it was scary, but not entirely new.

Instead of fretting, we took that time to spend together and learn to put God in the center of our marriage.  We even took the time together to learn each others’ “love languages.”  In each of our top three lies quality time, so we learned that spending time together strengthened our love.  That seems like a “duh” revelation, I know, but people often miss these obvious points.  Just the other day I was organizing part of our office and Robert was working on the computer.  We weren’t really spending time “together” but we were together, and we found ways to involve each other or have snippets of conversation in the middle of our tasks at hand.  The simplicity of it was beautiful and encouraging.  Our time together doesn’t always have to be exciting; it just has to be together and involve one another.  Sometimes it’s the reassurance that we’re there for each other.

After a hike up a mountain (volcano), we had a lovely view of Antigua.

After a hike up a mountain (volcano), we had a lovely view of Antigua.

My mission team has been back from Guatemala for just about six weeks now and when we met on Sunday for a reunion fiesta, much of what I forgot I wanted to share, or I had just needed time to sort out in my brain, resurfaced.  One such topic is my marriage.  It’s strange that a mission trip would bring enlightenment of that area of  my life, but I guess God reveals what He wants us to know in His way, and we had to go all the way to Guatemala for me to see what a blessing my marriage is to others.  I already knew I was happy to be married to Robert, but I had no idea what an example we are to others.

On the trip, Robert and I were actually broken apart from one another for most of the first two work days, and we were fine with that.  We are both able to function without each other quite well.  The hard part was when we remained so busy during the evening that we had no time to reflect together on our days.  By the third day I think we learned to make the time.  We both recognized the importance of time shared with the group, but also being able to share with each other, especially since we both had so much on our minds during this trip.

A huge leaf, shaped like a heart?  Couldn't resist.

A huge leaf, shaped like a heart? Couldn’t resist.

Our interactions must have become evident to the rest of the group because we received compliments from various members on our marriage. We were given a homework assignment to write a little encouraging message to each member of the team, letting them know some positive way they touched the team or the individual.  One such message came from a young lady who lives with her amazing mother but comes from a broken home: “I also am deeply thankful for the example  you and Robert set as a healthy couple who has God present in their relationship.”  I’ve kept this card as a bookmark for my daily reading because it reminds me of how we can be encouraging examples without even realizing it and how important it is to always let God shine through us.

Broken homes are universal.  Where we were able to be an encouragement to this girl from the U.S., we were also able to do the same for the children in Guatemala.  Apparently there is a real need for responsible men to step up in families in the area where we worked.  The burden weighs almost entirely on the women, so our loving interactions together became examples to the local children as well.  I remember that on our last day we went to an orphanage for mostly young ladies who primarily came from abusive homes.  One little girl attached herself to Robert and then later was coloring and playing with stickers with me.  I told her Robert was mi esposo, and she thought that was great  When we were saying goodbye to the kids, the three of us had a group hug.  I’m sure this encounter left her with at least some sense of hope.

One Car Faith

jalopies

Recap.  I left the world of teaching with nothing officially lined up for after.  No big deal since everyone knows teachers don’t get paid much anyway, right?  Except my husband and I were making an equal income, so this cut our money in half.  Yikes!  Now it sounds insane, and it is.

We lived off not much more than that before when Robert went through some time of being unemployed, but we did get to collect unemployment.  Since I happily vacated my job, no unemployment can be acquired.  When we decided I would take this huge step into the void during a time of high unemployment rates, we did it with the faith that somehow it would all work out because we felt this was a needed step.  If I could find part-time work, we’d be fine.

Then we came to a wall, or a decision that needed to be made.  I was taking off the two months I would have had off as a teacher and was going to job search when school started back up because the lump of checks at the end of the year covered the summer anyway.  During this time Robert’s free car that had miraculously run for three years stopped running.  It was probably just the battery, so we could pay to replace that, and other than the gauges on the dash that rarely worked, the lack of A/C in a black car in Florida, and a number of other oddities plaguing the vehicle, we could have had it running.  However, time was coming to renew the car registration and it was another car we had to pay insurance on.  Since the school year had ended we had really only driven my car.  We began to contemplate life with only one car.  The problem at this point was the uncertainty of what I would do for income.  Having only one car might not work if I found a job with hours that conflicted with Robert’s schedule.

Maybe we should never have let the dog drive.

Maybe we should never have let the dog drive.

A conundrum.

We could save quite a bit of money if we just let the car go.  But what if we needed it later?

I would just have to find a way to make money from home or work between Robert’s hours.  It was time for a vehicular pardon of the old Jetta.  In the scary moment when we both realized this, we felt both nervous and liberated.  We would have to exercise one car faith and believe that no matter what, God was in the driver’s seat, to use a bad cliche disguised as a bad pun, and He would provide for us just as He always had.

It hasn’t been long living in this manner yet, but I have managed to find a few sources of income in which the car has not been an issue.  It feels great to have been able to simplify our lives just a little more, running on one car faith.

How Words Shape Our Perspectives

Words hold power.  We all know we’re not supposed to judge someone on appearances, so maybe we listen to someone else speak of that person, or we read about that person.  The thing is, the connotations of words still shape and color a picture in our minds.  Connotations are the emotions and nuances of words, and the English language is a tricky one that way.  A good writer knows he or she can effectively craft a character this way, and so many other points.  The problem with this is being careless with our words and creating the wrong impression.

My intention today, however, is not to give a writing or English lesson.  My intention is to nudge people to think more carefully about words already used out there and to dig beyond the words to the people the words are about.  Never judge solely on appearances or words because words can be tainted, whether intentional or not.  Keep this in mind while watching and reading the news.

Judge with your heart.

A little something I used to do to help my students understand the importance of connotation and word choice was to list some words and have them put them in order of weakest to strongest or good to bad (if I gave them a full spectrum of words) .

An example:

furious, mad, upset, miffed, enraged, angry

The result would be close to this:

upset, mad, angry, furious, enraged, and “what is miffed?”

Forget miffed.  At that point we would have had a talk about slang words and how they change from generation to generation.  It’s irrelevant here. I’m just making sure you’re still paying attention.

If I gave you a list of words to describe a person and asked you to put them in order of your personal feelings towards him or her from sympathetic to unsympathetic, what order would you put these words into?

prostitute, trafficking victim, hooker, exploited child

Your list would most likely look something like this:

exploited child, trafficking victim, prostitute, hooker

Explanation:  People tend to feel automatic sympathy toward a child; trafficking victims sound like they can be any age, and our minds would automatically want to think they were not children; prostitute sounds maybe just a little better than a hooker who is obviously lower class

Something like all that, right?

What if I said all those choices are descriptions of the same person?  Oftentimes a child becomes a victim of trafficking, and is then exploited for years as a prostitute, and because most people automatically assume a prostitute has no morals, it becomes fairly easy to tack on the stigma of the word hooker.

The problem with this is that very few children desire to grow up to sell their bodies.  They want to be doctors, veterinarians, singers, firefighters, or astronauts.  Few people would ever make such a choice.  They are either forced into it, or their weaknesses are exploited.  Most of them want out of such a lifestyle but are either trapped physically by literal chains and locks, guns, or drug dependence or in bondage by emotional chains of helplessness, dependence, self-loathing, or fear.

When we begin to think of these people as individuals instead of classifying them all the same we see them as daughters, sons, siblings, and friends who just want love and acceptance, and most likely a new life.

Human trafficking does not just cover those who are tricked, sold or kidnapped and forced to work in fields or brothels for little to no wages, but any person who becomes a commodity.  If we consider this properly, they are all exploited and they are all victims, even if we don’t see the chains that bind them.  30 million people around the world are enslaved in some way today.  Right now. In this very moment.

According to the Not For Sale Campaign

Slavery occurs when one person completely controls another person, using violence or the threat of violence, to maintain that control, exploits them economically and they cannot walk away.

Let’s all help to empower them to go beyond being victims to becoming survivors.  We need to change our perspectives and to reach out in love and show them dignity.

Remembering 9/11

I remember it vividly every year. I posted this a year ago, but I wanted to share it again.

caverns of my mind's avatarcaverns of my mind

After September 11, 2001, many of us were feeling confused about what we felt after such an atrocity.  I did what I usually do in that case, and I wrote about it (of course then I had no outlet to share it with anyone, so I never really did).  I felt after all these years had passed it might be interesting to see what was going on in our minds at that time and see if we really are remembering.

From 9-22-01:

There are so many people affected by the tragedies that occurred on September 11.  In one way or another, we are all affected by them, as we should be as decent human beings, and as Americans.  Our country will never be the same again.  These horrific acts of terrorism rocked our sense of security in this country, and put us in fear, just as the terrorists had hoped. …

View original post 1,112 more words

Righteous Anger

I’ve been caught up in the world of marketing my book, because that is a never-ending process, but looking back over my recent posts, I realize that I’ve lost sight here of a big part of who I am, or who I want to be anyway.

One reason I left teaching, aside from wanting more time to write and promote my book, was to be a better person and to reach out to the broken in various ways.  I was so closed off.  I do not have much of a resource of money to give, but I can give of myself, which I feel is more rewarding anyway.  Instead of writing a check or donating online for a cause, I like to actually meet the people I am helping, or at least to feel like I am physically doing something.  I did this recently on a mission trip to Guatemala and while I worked at a local food pantry.  I enjoy this sort of activity because I feel like I am doing good with my time.  Of course I know I am not going to change the world alone, but I like being a part of the bigger picture.

Human trafficking, modern day slavery, is the specific area where I wish to help make a difference.  With numbers like 27 million people worldwide being enslaved, it seems like a hopeless fight.  But we must have hope.  And if enough people have hope, we can work together, for the bigger picture, and bring this evil to an end.

Because I live in a small town, I do not really see the effects of human trafficking close to me in my daily life, so I try to keep this injustice in front of me.  I follow various organizations that work to fight it and I research it, keeping it in the front of my mind and weighing heavily on my heart.  I try to imagine myself or people I love living through these atrocities, because that makes me angry.  I know it’s not good to go through life angry, but sometimes anger is a good thing.  Righteous anger keeps us focused on what we need to change.  When that anger brings us to action, we see hope and change, even if only in small ways.  It brings me joy in the middle of the sadness, because a difference can be made, even if just one life at a time.

Again, one reason I left teaching was to pursue a way to make more of a difference in this area.  I recently found this quote:

The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.

– Frederick Buechner

To me, this is hopeful.  I love being able to reach out and make a difference.  I find gladness in that.  I also find gladness in writing.  Perhaps my writing is one small way I can incite and inspire action and change in the world’s deep hunger of healing for the people currently struggling with enslavement.  More to come on this.

Regrets?

There’s just today left for my free ebook promo for Memoirs of an Ordinary Girl: The Middle-ish Ages.  Yeah, I feel a little cheap just giving the book away like that, but I have to believe everyone will still love and respect me once they actually read the book.

I did the math, and it just didn’t make sense.  Normally I get a 70% royalty on an ebook sale, but 70% of zero is nothing, right?  I was always more of an English girl than a math whiz, but I know I took a risk with this.  And I went back and forth on it, like Gollum.

Gollum-Smeagol-smeagol-gollum-14076882-960-403

Me:  But it’s my precious.

Other Me: Well, nobody will be able to read it if they don’t know it exists.

Me: How will I feed my husband, myself, and my dogs if I give it away for free?

Other Me: Maybe people will love it so much they will all write up awesome reviews on Amazon.  Then it will be more visible to shoppers and sales and ranking will increase.

Me: Do you swear it?

Other Me: I swear it on the precious!

Yeah, it was all really creepy.  In the long run, Other Me won and now we both wait to see if it is correct.  This whole self-promoting stuff is all new for me and each decision I make is a new risk.  I don’t like to think of being a writer as running a business, because it’s art, but if I want people to read my art, I have to promote it.  Giving away freebies is a classic technique in bringing in business, right?

Go ahead and take a chance with me and download the book for free this one last day.  Then if you love it, or even just mostly like it, please take a minute to write up a review for me.  Maybe this will encourage me to finish the sequel faster.  My goal is to have it ready for Amazon by Christmas.

I can’t have regrets.  I have to keep moving forward.

Freebies!

freebooks1

I love free stuff.  It makes me smile.  I want to make others smile by giving away free stuff, namely my book.

Today (8/30/13) through Monday (9/2/13) I am giving away my ebook.

A few people thought my timing on this was weird because I just launched my book in print after having the ebook available for a year now.  Why would I do this?  Honestly, I just want people to read my book, love it, and tell others about it.  Also, people are more likely to risk reading something unknown if it’s free than they are to buy something unfamiliar to them, right?  So, the freebie ebook giveaway is my sneaky way to get noticed, have people give a free book and chance, and then let them decide if a paper book (which always has a higher overhead cost) is worth adding to their libraries.  It’s a way to check it out before investing.

Personally, I think Memoirs of an Ordinary Girl: The Middle-ish Ages is a well-written, well-voiced book, but I might be biased since I wrote it an all.  So…I am asking others to read it and hopefully add reviews to my page as well.  Help me get noticed.

Pass along the news and spread the link:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/B008TT8Z6K

Skin Deep

People are like stained – glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

I would like to preface this entire post by declaring that I am not and have never been a girlie girl.  I’ve never had a manicure or a pedicure (I refuse to have people touch my feet);  I get my hair trimmed maybe twice a year for under $20 each time; I keep my accessories simple and had been using the same handbag consistently for well over a year, until I just got a new one while in Guatemala. I just like to keep things simple.  However, there was a time, which ended not more than a few years ago, when I would NOT even leave my house without a full face of makeup.  Now, it’s not like I caked it on or anything, but I would not allow others to see me without at least a good coat of foundation.

Please don’t back out on reading this now because you think it’s a post about makeup.

My problem was my self image.  Around my early high school years I developed a case of acne that didn’t really go away until I was almost thirty.  Once I grew out of the awkward stage of body parts and facial features not quite fitting together in proportional solidarity, the acne came.  One of the most devastating backhanded compliments I often heard was, “You’d be really pretty if you didn’t have acne.”  Gee thanks.  You’d be a nice person if you weren’t so inconsiderate.  I would almost have rather had them just say I was ugly.  At least then I’d have known where I stood.  But knowing the only thing standing in my way of being “pretty” (and even if I was never a girlie girl, there isn’t a girl alive, no matter what she says, who does not want people to think she is pretty) was having some zits really hurt.  I tried everything to gt rid of them.

My self esteem was shot and I barely wanted to show my face in public even with makeup, so going without was impossible.  This way I could at least hide the more minor imperfections.

Then a huge challenge came along.  Running.  I’ve discussed this here before.  I began running about three years ago for the purpose of raising money in a race, and then, as Nike suggested, I kept just doing it.  A group of us would meet weekly for a run and I remember that it was a big deal that I was going to be not only sweaty and nasty in front of people, but makeup-less as well.  Totally vulnerable and, in a way, exposed.  The thing is… so was everybody else, and I didn’t notice people looking too carefully at my skin or anything.  I know it seems silly if you’ve never gone through this but I had real issues when it came to this, so it was a hard obstacle to overcome.

I’ve finally come to understand real beauty, and though I still like to wear at least some minimalist foundation when possible, I’m not afraid of going without anymore.