3 Easy Ways to Help Writers

Writers need you.

Publishers are attracted to writers who have a platform.  A simplified definition of platform is a group of readers who follow an author’s work.  You, the reader, have a lot of power.  

Being an author might seem glamorous, but the writing process is more about consistent hard work than glam especially in a meme generating world.  New writers can be wide-eyed when they learn that writing well may not be enough.  Some give up on their soul’s calling.  Some have to write.  It is in their DNA.  Great writers carry on in their creative space, but they need a team to be successful.lavendar harvest

Are you a helpful person?  If so, here are tips to keep your favorite writers moving forward:

  1. Click the follow or subscribe button on the writer’s blog.  Help their number of blog followers increase.  Q: Ugh, will I get email notifications of blog posts?  A: Likely.  You can read your favorite authors diligently or create a rule in your email so that certain emails auto file into a designated folder.  You know you’ve been wanting to [learn how to] set up email rules anyway!
  2. Follow and like your writer’s social media pages:  Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Pinterest, etc.  Help their numbers grow.  Go wild and invite other friends to like them too.  Listen Linda*, every follow helps.  Also, every like, retweet, comment or share kicks off algorithms that help other people in your area of the country or with your similar interests get to know your author also.  You are their champion.
  3. Read your author’s stuff.  You are sunshine for a writer’s growth as an artist.  Supporting writers is like being a cheerleader with pom poms made of “like” buttons.  Stretch goal:  contact your author and offer to be on their book launch team when the time arrives!  Book launch team members help get reviews out early about new books.  Best sellers seem like overnight miracles, but it is readers like you and book launch team members who make those miracles happen.

Peace,

Signature GSE

@GlennaSEdwards on Twitter

GlennaSEdwardsAuthor on Facebook

*footnote:  “Listen Linda” is my all time favorite YouTube video.  😉

 

 

Wet Soil

I saw a grasshopper jump 6 feet Sunday.  Impressed, I measured to be sure.  Sometimes I just want to know.

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Thinking about my already stressed immune system, I pop an extra Flintstones vitamin.  It’s time to tackle the landscape while rain drizzles.

The ground is soft.  This is my best chance to rip out overgrown weeds.  Working wet soil is easier than working hard soil on a sunny day.  I accept that my clothes and shoes will become muddy.  I give thanks for consecutive hours to focus on yard work long overdue.

 

Crickets chirp for hours likely because it is so dark they think it is night time.  I double check online and sure enough crickets usually stick to nocturnal chirping.  Again, I wanted to know.

Digging literally into my work, I smile thinking that crickets may not know that even when it’s dark during the day, there is light on the other side of gloomy clouds.  Then I mental note rephrase light to be a capitalized L, Light to represent Jesus.  My speed remains steady.

Eventually I realize that if I am going to finish all that needs to be done, then I’m going to have to get on my knees.  There’s no avoiding the mud or muck.  I must get serious.  Kneeling reminds me to pray.

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Section by section and weed by weed, I become increasingly meditative and prayerful thinking about how if wet soil is easier for me, then how easy must wet soil be for God?  I consider how God uses our tears.  I pray in thanksgiving and surrender that God will use my tears for good.  Our family is in a season of change and pain.  There is good to be found on the the other side of the clouds.  The Light is always there.

I uncover a decorative rock that I haven’t seen in a while.  I nod to the sky as if to say, “Metaphoric show off, Lord…my Rock.”

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I’m in the deep end of the pool as my mind wanders.  Part of my thoughts skim along the idea of leaving the day job that I’ve done to positively impact the lives of children and families for 15 years.  The personal cost has been more than I imagined.  Maybe it’s time to quit.  I’m terrified to quit because I don’t want to disappoint God, and I truly adore my students and families.

Perhaps it was the earth and dirt that took my brain to a time that changed my life’s direction back in 1992.  A group of college students and ministers  (all guys from the states plus me and one other girl) dug dirt out of a foundation for a church in Mytishchi, Russia.  Then we began adding brick to raise the walls.  We were the first team of several teams to visit that location.  I never got to see in person the finished church.

I think about the dirt moved, the drunk local brick layers, and the many crumbling bricks I carried.  The Russian bricks were unlike anything I’d seen in the USA.  To follow are pictures from my 1992 scrapbook.

 

On my knees in my messy front yard God whispers to my soul that just as my hands were a small part in a physical foundation that carries on His work beyond the summer of 1992, my efforts for the last 15 years are also part of foundations in lives that I can not see.  His work carries on with or without me.  My job is to surrender to whatever is next, to be open to possibilities.

I search the Internet once in a while over the years but rarely see any structure that might be close to what we were building in Mytishchi.  I know from the scrapbook that this is a sketch the Russians had on the wall.  This was their goal during a time of limited building supplies.  I wondered back then how the rough red brick could become a white smooth surface.

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Then last night as I prepared this post, I found it.  I am certain.  To follow are pictures of a thriving 2018 church in Mytishchi, Russia.  I’m so pumped that it exists.  There’s even a few online pics of people, now 26 years older, I recognize.

 

Hi Peter!  Then and now:

 

My hands were a small part of a lasting foundation that I don’t get to see up close and I may never see in person.  I don’t get to know.  It’s not for me to always know.

Jeremiah 18:3-4 Then I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was, making something on the wheel. But the vessel that he was making of clay was spoiled in the hand of the potter; so he remade it into another vessel, as it pleased the potter to make.

I surrender to whatever vessel God wants me to be next.

Meanwhile, the yard is looking much better!

 

Why #WildWednesday

The first time I used #WildWednesday on an Instagram post, hubby said he was a little concerned what I was up to.  I blog Wednesdays and Saturdays on the steady with a few special occasions sprinkled into the mix.  Wednesdays are extra special to me.

We were married five years before children arrived.  Wild Wednesday is a term we used long ago before two people became three, then four.  Being young and the lowest seniority at each of our jobs meant we often worked weekends.  When off days fell on Wednesdays we could take quick road trips.  The world seemed quiet and travel costs were less expensive mid-week.  #WildWednesday is a nod to a sweet time.

On this Wednesday I am still thinking, praying, and meditating about the 3-Day Surrender Experiment.  Coming up Saturday I plan to post about “capacity”.  In the meantime, I am feeling a little wild indeed, wild about cutting down shrubs and tidying landscaping outside our home!  My imagination chopped down ALS a few times too.

Caregiving means more than caring about someone else.  This week caregiving involves sawing gnarly trees and bushes while singing the song “All By Myself”–not the verses in the melancholy Celine Dion way, but belting out the chorus in a proud anthem type way.  Happy Wednesday, y’all!

Colossians 3:23  Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord….

SURRENDER – 3 day experiment, day 3

Hubby says as I enter the kitchen this morning, “Our grand kids were supposed to visit us in this house.”

Sigh.  It’s true.  That was the plan.  I’ve had that cry numerous times as the “stuff removal” continues.  I don’t see how we can stay in this home for a few reasons.  There is only a half bath on the first floor, no shower.  Bedrooms and full baths are upstairs.  Finances are strained.

I carry on with trash collecting and errand running.  My mind wanders in and out of the Surrender experiment.  I reflect on parts of the day 2 verse:  Be humble, God will lift up in due time, cast all anxiety on Him, He cares.

In the Walmart parking lot I catch my hands making a tossing motion to cast all my anxiety toward the sky.  I think about writer friend, Kelly, who tweeted last night about the experiment “What are we holding back from God?”

That question led me to add to my surrender list:

8.  Dear God, I give you the dark places of my mind, the places that I rarely acknowledge even to myself.  I will no longer hold anything back.  It is all Yours.

At Kroger near the seafood someone calls out, “Glenna!”  It is a neighbor from our street.

“I saw that you agreed to be one of the stops on the deck crawl.”  It’s true.  Our neighbors have an annual progressive party.  I don’t plan to make a big deal out of it, but in my mind being a stop on the list of addresses is my way of quietly saying goodbye.

Our chat continues a while.  My neighbor offers wonderful ideas about turning our first floor laundry room, located next to the half bath, into an accessible shower.  She suggests that our laundry equipment move to the second floor or to the garage.  By the time we are done I can visualize the new set up.  A bedroom in our living room or dining room would be the easiest part of the adjustment.  I leave her side feeling hopeful.  She even gave me a contractor phone number.

The day continues and I end up taking a nap.  I woke up not as hopeful, but open to possibilities.  I will call for an estimate.

And the surrender list continues:

9.  I release my thoughts about how our current challenges will evolve.

10.  I will continue to practice surrender and let go each day this week.  I will seek and stay close to God.  Your ways are higher.

John 16:33 (NIV) I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

I believe there is peace found in surrender.  My main discovery in this experiment is that surrender is a process.  I have lots of practicing to do.  Thanks for joining me on this journey.  What are you learning about surrender?

Blessings to you and yours,

Glenna

SURRENDER – 3 day experiment, day 2

God wacked me over the head with a song this morning.

I spent quiet time yesterday and early today poring over every word of Proverbs 3:5-6.  I personalize the words.  Trust in the Lord with all my heart…not my understanding…submit…He will direct my path….

Leaving home for outsourced biscuits and gravy (don’t judge), I ramble with God in the silent car:  I committed to share this surrender experiment.  I’m not sure I have much to say, God.  Is surrender acknowledging Your power?  I gratefully let go of any power I thought I had.  Really.  My body aches every day with this crazy clean out the house effort. It was all I could do to resist taking a muscle relaxer at 6am.  I can’t do that because I need these daylight hours…yes, I need You too.

Driving downhill sunshine flutters through leaves into the car.  I hear the words HERE NOW loudly in my ear/mind.  I recognize that phrase is a song title by Hillsong United that I haven’t heard in a while.  I sing some of the words:

Here now.

Cause I know that you are here now.

It makes no sense, but this is grace.

I know you are with me in this place….

I continue to sing.  My voice raises in worship.

And then it hits me.  I am overcome thinking and KNOWING that surrender brings God up close.  Our Higher Power is ever present.  When we surrender it is in those moments that we are in total closeness, togetherness, and in acknowledgement of God’s love.

Huh.  I’ll be chewing on that thought for a while.  What do you think?

Also, God is love therefore it should not surprise me the love I’ve felt both for God and for people in the last two days.  Random people:  The mother of a 3-year-old and 6-month-old at the laundromat, a pregnant cashier at Bob Evans, the man at Great Clips with a suicide prevention tattoo…and not so random:  my husband, sons and friends.  If you poke my arm heart emojis may float out of me.

Here is the verse for day 2 along with my surrender list continuation:

1 Peter 5:6-7 (NIV) Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.  Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

5.  I surrender my path.  God, take the lead.  I trust You know a better way.
6.  I surrender debt.  God, please clear the way to debt free living.  I hand over the mistakes made when we inaccurately counted the cost of what it would mean to live in the non-profit world with a corporate world house.
7.  I let go of fears related to ALS in our family.

Now back to sorting, trash bag gathering, and lugging items to Goodwill.

If you chose to join me, how is your surrender experiment going?  Am I on to something?  What are you discovering?

Sidebar:  Do you see a face in the clouds with the rainbow picture?

Love,

Glenna

 

3 Crazy Clutter Clearing Tips

It seems there is no end to the mess in my basement.  Once again I am determined this is the weekend that the clutter is finally gone.  To follow are tips that get me moving each Saturday morning.

1.  Have an out-of-body experience.

If I am struggling to begin, then I attempt to channel one of my friends who is good at eliminating piles and creating organization.  I pretend to love sorting like Maria.  She tackles household stacks with zeal.  One time she helped me clear an attic with broken toys from the 1970’s and dust dating back to the 1800’s.  She was 7 months pregnant and enjoyed it.  I was like, “Uh.  May I offer you a mask?”  My friend Deb uses “the power of 3 (or 7, 10, whatever number she chooses)”.  This means she picks a number and once she says go, then she has to move, trash or complete that number of simple tasks before sitting back down.  This catalyst activity leads to a productive day for her.  I reflect on memories of how friend Amy had tidy shoe boxes of stuff when we were kids and how her now adult hands still seem to frequently toss garbage from any surface, especially her car.  I draw from all of their energy and good habits to drag my booty away from the couch.

2.  Save steps for your happy dance.

The trap of multi story homes is the tiring stairs.  I don’t climb a set of stairs until I have collected multiple bags of donation items and full garbage bags.  Each bag moved to the base of the stairs feels like a win.  This also gives me a chance to ask the teenager of the house to help carry things when he stops to say hello.  When I see multiple bags ready to ascend, then I do a happy dance and call it a square footage of clear space win.

3.  Have conversations with yourself.

Without slowing down ask why did you save that?  Why did you think that would be useful?  And most importantly, why do you want to eliminate the clutter?  Give yourself pep talks to say “keep going, keep moving”.  I have read a lot of how to get organized books over the years.  All of those books are now located at the Goodwill in Florence, KY.  My favorite book on this topic is What Your Clutter Is Trying to Tell You: Uncover the Message in the Mess and Reclaim Your Life by Kerri L. Richardson.  If you struggle in the battle of clutter and can read only one book, then read that one.  This book helps you discover the emotional core of your clutter struggles.  The author opened my eyes in new ways.

Alrighty.  The sun is coming up soon.  Time for me to get moving!

Love,

Glenna

Scripture Spoke Louder

I find treasure each weekend as we prepare to move.  Most recently I discovered a 2-inch x 3-inch notebook from 1983.  The paper has yellowed.  The spiral wire feels rough like rust.  The pages are difficult to turn.

Inside are Bible verses from a time when I took every curly q of cursive writing seriously.  I was 11 years old in 1983.  My guess is that in Sunday School we wrote a verse or two each week.  The notebook is divided into Old Testament and New Testament sections, poetry, prophecy, and more.  I have no idea who my Sunday School teacher was for this weekly exercise, but he or she was wise.  What an excellent way to learn scripture.

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Almost every page contains Bible verses that have been with me nearly my whole life.  They reside not only in a dark corner of my basement moved from home to home but also in the foundation of my heart.

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Exodus 14:14, When adults have competing agendas and it is best to hold my tongue.

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Leviticus 19:4, When the boy broke my heart.  Uh, ok, boys.  Plural.  Worshiping another human is a trap often leading to disappointment.  I learned only God can “complete me”.

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Ruth 3:10, When I found strength in the fact that a gentle woman can still have power and grace.

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2 Samuel 22:4, When I trusted God to deliver me from less than nice people.  [Sidebar:  Have you heard that 1 in 25 people may be a functioning sociopath?  Check out a great book for more info:  The Sociopath Next Door.]

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Ecclesiastes 7:9, When I developed a slooooow fuse.  I don’t anger easily.  That is a blessing in my relationships.

Micah 7:7, When I feel scared or lonely and ask Jesus to wrap His arms around me as I go to sleep.

2 Corinthians 5:7, When I take healthy risks with hope for the best outcome.

John 3:16, When I maintain perspective on the greatest love story of all time.

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Mark 16:15, When I chose to write a Christian blog and Christian manuscript about freedom found in surrender.  Preach, sisters!

What scripture has spoken louder than your circumstances?  Is there a teacher you need to thank?  Or children in your life who will benefit from the time you take to build a notebook with them?

I am grateful for the caring adults who poured light into me even if it took 35 years for me to realize the lasting power of the wisdom they shared.

Glenna

#MeToo and the Christian Woman

Before I hit “send” on the type of email that 99.9999% of the time you should not send, I shared it first with my new boss.

Within minutes the office phone rang.  “Come see me please,” he said.

My boss looked me in the eye and expressed with stern lips, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve counted the cost.”  It’s a hill I’m willing to die on.

He nods, “Ok.  Good luck.”

I proceeded to send the email to the head of the company and Human Resources.

~~~

I’ve been asked a few times what I think about the #MeToo movement.  The experience I describe took place a long time ago, way before #MeToo.

Once upon a time I spent over a decade in the corporate world.  It was clear that some men abused power or said whatever crude thing they wanted with little consequence.  I wondered why I was told as an adolescent that girls can do anything we set our mind to do, but once I was in the business world somehow, I, a woman, often felt “less than” or “used” in some way.

There were many examples.  I entered a meeting where a client raised an eyebrow and said to the men with me, “Well, I’ll sign the contract since you brought this.”  I was a this?  One year I spent every work day at 5pm being critiqued by a boss for my performance beginning with how my hair, clothes, and makeup looked that day.  A year.  Every day.  He thought he was helping me function in a man’s world–that’s what he called his pacing and instructing while I sat wanting to go home.

I’ll spare you the long and varied list of inappropriate moments.  Not all men behaved this way.  Men who were spiritual or had a personal growth mindset were respectful.

~~~

Back to the email sent with no turning back.  Times were tricky.  An executive woman had been fired and then settled a lawsuit.  I knew those in charge were on edge.  I had asked for months to increase pay for my staff as well as provide equal pay for males and females.  My request had been dismissed multiple times.  It bothered me when females with similar qualifications were hired for less salary than a man for the same job.

So, I wrote key bullet points of concern and asked to meet with the head of the company and HR every Friday at 1pm for about 20 minutes.

“What do you want?!” The head of the company bellowed at the first meeting.  He had invited another male executive who was known to be threatening.  I knew first hand because he had threatened my family the year prior when I pointed out something else unethical.  Specifically, “It would be a shame if your boys grow up without a mother.”  The Holy Spirit reminded me of David and Goliath.  I wasn’t afraid.  The HR representative brought two pens and a yellow writing pad.

“I want to discuss an example or two each week of things that have been said or done that involve discrimination.  I believe our company can treat people better.  Twenty minutes each Friday should do it.  I believe we can work together for healthy change.”

“For how many Fridays?” his nostrils flared with suspicion.

“As long as it takes.”

And so, we began.  I brought weekly succinct topics or situations and explained why you can’t say this or that about women, or make fun of people in general, or discriminate against minorities–conscious or unconscious.

Outside of these meetings, a nervousness grew in the boardroom.  The leadership group said cursing was no longer permitted.  Jokes were shut down with side-eye looks before punchlines arrived.  My department’s pay raise was approved after six Fridays.

I think the men began wondering what in the world I planned to say next each week.  Eventually I offered an ending, “I think we’ve covered what needed to be said.”

HR put down her pen.  The threatening guy yawned.  The head of the company snorted relief.  We almost had become comfortable in the muck.

That was a time and place where I chose to go uphill alone after deciding I could accept potential negative repercussions.  One thing I like about #MeToo is that people are saying you are not alone when discrimination happens.

With or without such a movement, God gave us road maps in the Bible to address wrongs peacefully.  Actions are not to be taken lightly.  Here are steps I followed:

  • Consult scripture.  [Matthew 18:15-17,  Galatians 6:1]
  • Pray.
  • Go to the person directly.  I had with no progress.  That’s why I moved on to request the Friday meetings with HR present.
  • Seek wisdom and/or wise counsel.
  • Think about timing.  My guess was it was a time when the head of the company would listen to me whether he liked what I had to say or not.
  • Consider chain of command.  My new boss learned my intentions from me first.  I had reason to believe based on his professional behavior that he would be supportive.
  • Count the costs.  I remember thinking of the best and worst scenarios that could happen and accepted in advance that the outcome could be good, bad, or something I couldn’t imagine yet.

~~~

Down the road after the head of the company left the organization and later I had too, I saw him one more time.  He wanted me to work on a project with him.  I asked why would he want me to do that?  His answer, “Because you taught me about love.”

I didn’t see that coming.  But it made sense.  God is love.

Friends on the Trail

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Steam Team friends 2016 near Rapidan River

I’ve noticed that loss and loneliness often go hand in hand.

To stay the course of cleaning out our home of 20 years before putting the house on the market, I’ve said no to several fun get togethers and adventures this summer.  Spending hours alone in a dusty basement is a recipe for lonely.  Ugh.

I remember 10 years ago feeling lonely as I grieved the deaths of my mom and sister-in-law.  No matter what interactions I shared with people the fog of loss did not lift for many months.  The grieving dominated while I went through the motions of life as best I could.

This loss is different.  I am thankful to not have the intense brain fog, but my mind is noticeably strained with long to do lists and some sadness nonetheless.

While sorting items from our home, I relive memories of friends and family over the years.  Cards, pictures, movie tickets, toys, and journals have resurfaced.

I laugh out loud, snap a picture to capture certain memories before tossing items, and give thanks for the experiences.  I don’t need the fading construction paper from my children’s preschool masterpieces, but I do want a remaining image of their artwork in case I choose to revisit digital pictures that do not require space or dusting in our next home.

I feel lucky for friends in my life whether they are here for a season, reason, or ongoing.  I’ve had time to think about friends and how much they’ve meant to me along life’s trail.  I am reminded to text or email girlfriends I haven’t spoken with in a while.  And close friends who know what’s going on have helped or offered to help in this process.

It’s like I’m in adult time out.

I have long talks with God on my worn path to Goodwill.

Memories made with friends along the trail of life improve my energy.  Oh, and ibuprofen could almost be called a friend at this point too!  Ouch, my muscles hurt.

Sometimes I think when this is over I will spend a week in bed, but I really won’t do that when the time arrives.  I will call a friend and choose an adventure.

friendship proverbs 27 9

When Was The Last Time

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2009 Shaw Farm

When was the last time he took my hand and we took a walk together?  When was the last time he could stand up from the couch without thinking about how to stand?  How many years ago was the last time he could golf–his all-time favorite activity?  When was the last time our home did not involve daily groans and pain?

As a mother, I vowed to cherish everything about our sons:  every flutter as they swam in the womb, first grins, first toys, first words.  My heart skipped beats when their little hands kept reaching for mine well into elementary school years.  I knew their childhood would end.  I treasured their soft skin and cuddles.  I would not squander those moments.  And while storing up sweet memories I welcomed the fact that one day our boys would move on to a greater destiny beyond their mom’s heart.

What I did miss was treasuring simple moments with my husband.  Yes, I appreciated him.  Yes, we tried to spend time together.  Yes, we overcame the fact that opposites really do attract and chose to draw closer to God, our translator, to communicate.  Yes, we did not give up on our marriage or each other.  But did I truly cherish him?  I didn’t think he was leaving.  And he hasn’t left, but sometimes it seems like he isn’t all here either.  My mind reaches for precious moments of ease that I forgot to store in my brain.

Grief arrives in many forms.  Sometimes we grieve the loss of a job or relationship.  I’ve endured the pain of people close to me passing away.  You may have too.  And now I endure the pain of watching chronic illness ALS-21 steal expectations we had for our present and future.  Our youngest child is a teenager.  I thought we had more time before hubby and I grew old together.  But symptoms of old slowly moved into our home decades too soon.  We are like the metaphoric frog in the pot of tepid water who didn’t know the heat was about to turn up.  We sat calmly in the pot not noticing that the water began to boil our circumstances.

I spend hours each week clearing “stuff” out of our house.  It feels like we are in a race against the clock to move to a more accessible place.  We had plans to remodel that will never happen while we are here.  I feel the ugly emotion of jealously toward people I haven’t met who will do projects here that I likely will not see.  Tears drizzle my checks occasionally over leaving our home of 20 years too soon.  What really got me down deep was when our oldest son was home on leave from the Air Force.  A couple nights he didn’t want to go see friends.  He shared that he just wanted to enjoy the walls of our home because he knew he might not ever again get to come home to this address.

On the flip side of the moving coin, I celebrate the thought of being in a home where my husband doesn’t have to crawl upstairs at night.  Are we old enough to require a no steps living arrangement?  Apparently yes.  This thought process requires me to clear clutter faster.  Time is not waiting for me.  I’ve quit looking at other homes online because I need to focus on the task of leaving this home first.  I trust God will provide the right place for us at the right time.

Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.  Matthew 6:34

I often tell myself that our situation could be worse, that there are worse things that people deal with.  These thoughts push me along to be grateful for the good things in our lives that we do have, or things that are better because we’ve had to adapt.  For example, I’m not sure my husband has ever verbally appreciated me more than he does now.  His kind words mean a lot to me.  We are also more forgiving and appreciative these days.  It seems like we have reached a calm place where we are slow to anger and less judgmental.  I thank God for the side benefits of sticking together and pushing through tough times as a team.

Are you grieving a loss or expectation of any size?  It takes time to grapple with it.  If you have tips or favorite verses about grieving that you would like to share, please comment.  I’d love to hear from you.