Rebecca Price Janney: Keeping An Eye On The American Family, Heaven, Hell, and History

Everyone's Story welcomes this week's guest, Dr. Rebecca Price Janney. Rebecca is a theologically trained historian, speaker, and author. Having written about the American family, the cultural history of heaven and hell, American history, and YA novels, Rebecca makes an awesome guest to help celebrate the one-year anniversary of this blog. Begun last year on April 19th as a gesture toward establishing an internet basis, plus a nod toward the commemoration of my mother's birthday, Rebecca's interest in honoring family and life is perfect timing!

~*~~*~Book GiveAway~*~~*~

One randomly chosen commenter (please leave email address within comment) will get to choose one of the following books by Dr. Price Janney:

Great Events in American History

Then Comes Marriage: A Cultural History of the American Family

Who Goes There? A Cultural History of Heaven and Hell

Questions for Rebecca Price Janney:

I admire your biographical author history, Rebecca. You began by facing off to a seemingly hard-nosed editor pre-determined not to give you the time of day but you stood your ground and he hired you. And this at the age of 15! At 17 you published your first article with Seventeen Magazine. Looking back, where do you believe you found such strong confidence at such a young age? What advice can you offer teens today during these changing publishing times that are stiffening the competition for everyone?

Sometimes I look back and can’t believe I did those things either!  I think part of it is the callowness of youth—you believe anything is possible.  The dark side of it was that I felt driven to prove myself, to gain approval from my family.  I do believe God used all those things, however, for my good, and hopefully for His glory.  He made me an enthusiastic and ambitious person.  I’ve tried to let Him steer me since then!

Times certainly have changed in publishing since then, but I think more roads have opened to teens than before.  A creative and ambitious young person can use the internet and social media to flex writing muscles, as well as going the traditional route of contributing to school publications and trying to connect with local media.  In my area (Philadelphia) there are internships available with public TV stations for teens who are interested in journalism.  Many writer’s conferences also have workshops available for young writers.  The possibilities are there!

You describe yourself as a theologically trained historian. I imagine this background as extremely helpful for non-fiction writing, but does it also help—or hinder—your fiction writing when it comes to freeing creativity, or what some call a “writer’s license to stretch the facts.”

It’s also helpful to me as I write historical fiction because I can be both accurate with the facts, as well as creative.  For example, in my new book, On a Steed of Iron, I take actual events and put fictional people alongside real ones as the story plays out.  Because I’ve researched the times so thoroughly—in this case, the late 1960s—I can present the adventures and dilemmas my heroine faces in a way that’s harmonious with that era.  This helps me not to impose current mores and pop culture upon that decade’s.  It’s like, when you know the rules of good grammar and spelling, you can work with them in an innovative way that doesn’t offend the language.

In THEN COMES MARRIAGE?: A CULTURAL HISTORY OF THE AMERICAN FAMILY you wrote about the past, present, and future of family life. Are there cyclic patterns that tend to repeat themselves, shaping and shifting themselves to the ups and downs of the other cyclic factors effecting the country such as the economy or do you see the American family as moving in only one steady direction, and if so, which way? Fiction wise, will the future reader of the novel read only about family life as something that occurred back in the “old days”?

If you look across American history—actually human history as a whole—you find periods of rebellion and low moral standards, followed by a reining in of those impulses and a resulting spread of better manners and basic decency.  I was surprised to find that early in American colonial history, premarital sex and living together outside of marriage were not uncommon.  After revivals happened (the subject of my new novels), people’s lives became better morally.  

After World War I, the “roaring twenties” were a “loose” decade, followed by that reining in process during the Depression, World War II, and the family-and-faith-oriented fifties when people felt more of their need for God. We’ve been in decline since the late 1960s, but I’m not sure when or how that will turn around.  Based on past trends, however, I think it will change—for the better.  We’ve not hit rock bottom yet, but we’re awfully close.

Your book WHO GOES THERE? A CULTURAL HISTORY OF HEAVEN AND HELL grabs my attention just by the title itself. The blurb tells its about the attitudes Americans have about heaven and hell. Can you share a little bit about these attitudes with us? As a country, do we Americans have distinct differences in our attitudes than other countries? 

I became intrigued with American attitudes about heaven and hell after Princess Diana’s death in 1997.  In the media, there were many references to her being “up there looking down” on us.  I wondered what made people so sure she had gone to heaven, and where they got the idea of her being able to see the rest of us.  After that, it seemed that whenever anyone famous died, it was the same thing.  Then everyday people started using similar language; it was cross-cultural and went across religions as well.  

My research fascinated me, as I discovered how attitudes have changed and where we are now regarding what the Bible teaches about the afterlife.  While there are some distinctions, the media casts such a large net of influence, and America is such a cultural trendsetter, that many people from other nations believe related things.  Also, Americans have become syncretistic about their religious beliefs, picking and choosing teachings from other countries and faith traditions.  Reincarnation is one example.

You’ve written many Young Adult novels. With the YA market exploding, have you entertained the idea of becoming the next big YA author?

Actually, I haven’t, but I’ve never given up on some of my earlier inspirations.  I wrote three books in the mid-to-late 90s about some homeschooled kids who time travel to solve historical mysteries.  That’s an idea that still appeals to me!

Who is your most inspirational person in American history and why?

It’s always hard for me to choose just one person because our nation has been blessed with so many outstanding people.  Those who come to mind include:

George Washington—a man of outstanding integrity, vision, and faith

Abraham Lincoln—whose weaknesses God turned to strength

Harriet Tubman—she had nothing earthly going for her, but God at work in her made for an extraordinary life (I wrote a book about her, Harriet Tubman)

Teddy Roosevelt—another man of God with boundless optimism for America

Ronald Reagan—I stand amazed at how God used his mother to form her son’s faith, and how God spared his life and enabled him at an advanced age and in failing health to bring an end to the Soviet Union.

Your new fiction release is ON A STEED OF IRON. Fascinating title. Please tell us where that title came from, and share with us a line or two about the book.

The year 1968 was one of the worst in American history—the Tet Offensive in Vietnam occurred, costing many lives, then Martin Luther King, Jr. was killed, resulting in terrible riots, and two months later, Robert Kennedy was assassinated.  Most heroes in stories ride off into the sunset on a white horse, or steed—by contrast, RFK rode off on a funeral train—a steed of iron.  The title is from a poem my heroine writes after supporting Kennedy and finding her dreams dashed to pieces.  The book deals with her attempts to find peace and meaning in that tumultuous era, culminating with her experience at the February 1970 revival at Asbury College in Kentucky.  God’s presence filled the campus, and the revival spread to many parts of the country.  It still amazes me when I read accounts of it, and speak with people who were there.

Rebecca & family

With your academic and vocational backgrounds, if you’d like, dare you confess any secret fun reads you enjoy? Any Mad Magazines hanging out in your coffee table stash?

No Mad Magazines, but I love to read women’s fashion magazines, and fun fiction—P.G. Wodehouse, Jan Karon, Robin Jones Gunn, Joyce Magnin.  I’m also enjoying reading the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew to my little boy.

Any predictions of where the future of literature is going?

I sure wish I could offer some!

If you could wave a magic wand, how would you like readers to remember you the most? 

That I loved Jesus with all my heart, and wrote inspired works—with excellence-- that he used to bless many lives.

What part of American history or culture fascinates you? Rebecca looks forward to hearing from you--leave a comment ✍

Author Bio:

During her senior year in high school, SEVENTEEN published her first magazine article and, in conjunction with the Columbia Scholastic Press Association, named her a runner-up in their teen of the year contest for her work as a budding journalist. In September 1996 Horizon Books published Rebecca's best selling GREAT WOMEN IN AMERICAN HISTORY, featuring 23 women of faith and principle whose lives impacted the nation. GREAT STORIES IN AMERICAN HISTORY came out in the summer of 1998 and went into its second printing in two weeks. GREAT LETTERS IN AMERICAN HISTORY was published in January 2000, and Rebecca's biography of Harriet Tubman (Bethany House) appeared in August, 1999.

Multnomah published her IMPOSSIBLE DREAMERS series for 8-12 year-olds in 1997. In the books, three pre-teens time-travel to solve histories' unsolved mysteries. Rebecca is also the author of the eight-book HEATHER REED MYSTERY SERIES published by Word. She has also written for dozens of newspapers and magazines and regularly contributes to other books.

Her most recent books focus on history and include Then Comes Marriage? A Cultural History of the American Family and Who Goes There? A Cultural History of Heaven and Hell from Moody Publishers, and Great Events in American History from AMG. Rebecca enjoys speaking at schools, churches, and civic organizations, as well as on radio and TV.

A graduate of Lafayette College and Princeton Theological Seminary, Rebecca received her doctorate from Biblical Theological Seminary in April 2000, having focused on the interpretation of women's roles throughout American history.

You can contact Rebecca by:

website:  www.rebeccapricejanney.com  (Includes my blog)
Facebook: Rebecca Price Janney
Twitter: @PriceJanney

Read about Heaven, apart from Christ? 'Dangerous folly'

Tom Blubaugh: The Accidental Road To Publishing A Novel

Everyone's Story is pleased to have as its guest this week author Tom Blubaugh. If I had to choose one word to describe Tom I'd select gracious, which in the dictionary is defined as one who is courteous, kind, and pleasant. Okay. That's 3 more words. But how true it is. Tom has been all that in my dealings with him... let's throw in one more word: patient. And just maybe all these traits of his came to use in publishing his first novel at age 69! Congratulations, Tom.

Tom is offering us lots of fun things. First, one copy of his Middle Grade/YA novel (enjoyed by many adults too) NIGHT OF THE COSSACK will be won by one randomly chosen viewer who leaves a comment with their email address within comment.


And second, below is an excerpt of Tom's first chapter from his novel for your reading pleasure. Trust me, it's full of intrigue.

NIGHT OF THE COSSACK

By Tom Blubaugh

Chapter 1

Nathan’s eyes flew open. Sounds, screams and gunshots penetrated the cold air of his upstairs bedroom. The pungent smell of smoke invaded his nose. He coughed. Am I having a nightmare? Shadows danced wildly across the ceiling and down the walls. 

Heart pounding, he threw off his covers, jumped out of bed, and rushed to the window. His little brother, Israel, followed.

Its real!

“What is it, Nathan?” Israel whispered.

Nathan pulled his brother against the wall behind him.

“Hey! I want to see!”

“Shush, Israel.” Nathan looked through the window at the valley below, his heart racing. Men in long coats and fur hats were running through the village brandishing swords and raising rifles. Cossacks!

The Bukolovs’ and the Gorbenkos’ houses were burning. Bodies lay on the ground. He couldn’t tell who they were, but he knew they were friends.

Momma rushed into the room. “Get away from that window, Nathan!”

“Those are Cossack soldiers, Momma!”

“Cossacks,” echoed Israel.

“Get dressed, Nathan. Hurry.”

Nathan hesitated at the window.

“Now!” she shouted, grabbing him with such force he lost his balance. “Get dressed. Bring your coat.”

Nathan turned from the window.

Momma pulled Israel’s clothes from the hook behind the door, hurried him into them, and down the stairs.

Nathan shoved his trembling hands into his shirt, the horrible scenes replaying in his mind—houses ablaze, soldiers on horseback, dead bodies, his friends in terror. Why are the Cossacks here? What do they want?

He pushed his feet into his boots, jumped up, and hurried to the chest at the foot of the bed. Lifting the lid, he pulled out a knife in its sheath and shoved it into his right boot. He reached back for a leather bag containing lead balls and patches, and a powder horn. He fastened the pouch and powder horn to his belt. The firelight danced across his father’s pistol. He picked up the gun and balanced it in his right hand. Momma said I can’t use it until I’m older. She doesn’t know I’ve taken it out when I’ve gone hunting and practiced shooting it. I’m sixteen. I’m a man. Why should I have to wait? The thought calmed him.

Nathan shoved the unloaded gun into his belt, went back to the window, and stared at the nightmare below. He turned away and tried to close his mind against the violence. His rifle, loaded and ready to fire leaned against the wall in the corner. He slipped his arm through the sling, hefted the rifle on his shoulder, and grabbed his coat. He ran down the stairs.

The back door banged in the cold January wind. Nathan pushed his right shoulder against the door and forced his way through. A bitter gust whipped down from the Caucasus Mountains and hit him full in the face, pushing him off balance.

Nathan gasped as acrid fumes attacked his nose and stung his eyes. He blinked away the tears and peered through the smoke. Momma moved like a ghost across the yard, her robe billowing behind her. Her long, black hair blew wildly in the wind. She was only halfway across the yard pulling Israel by the hand. Why isn’t she already in the root cellar? Then he knew the answer—she had waited until he was out of the house.

Nathan lowered his head and fought his way after her. A few meters from the cellar, he froze when he heard the piercing squeal of his terrified horse. He turned toward the barn. “Aza, I’m here. I’m coming,” he yelled.

Before he reached the barn a woman’s scream ran a chill up his spine. The sound was cut short, followed by an ominous silence. Nathan felt sick. Momma?

He glanced toward the cellar. He couldn’t see Momma or Israel. Fearing the worst, he turned and stumbled toward the underground room. His eyes still stinging, he stumbled to the entrance, using his rifle as a crutch to keep him upright.

“Momma?” he whispered.

Silence. His heart stopped.

“I hear you, Nathan. We’re all right.”

Nathan staggered down the steps with relief. His mind swirled with images and terrible sounds. His thoughts returned to Aza. He turned back to the steps.

“Nathan, stay here!”

“I must go to Aza, Momma. I heard him scream. He’s panicked, he could hurt himself.”

“What can you do for him, Nathan?”

“I can calm him down and turn him loose into the woods. If they set the barn on fire, he’ll die. He’ll be safe in the woods. I must go!”

“You’re more important than your horse. I, we need you here with us. Stay, Nathan. I couldn't bear to lose you.”

Nathan was torn. Breathing a heavy sigh in resignation as he pulled the cellar door shut, he let his eyes adjust to the dark. He leaned his rifle against the wall.

Momma wrapped her arms around her older son. Nathan felt her shiver. He knew she was more afraid than cold. Had she heard the scream?

She sank to her knees, pulling Nathan down. “I know you’re afraid,” she whispered.

Nathan tensed. “I’m not afraid. I’m a man—the man of the house. You’ve said this yourself.” He pulled away from her. “You say I’m brave and strong. You tell me I’m like Papa, but you treat me like a little boy.”

“Nathan, you’re both. You’re my little boy, but at the same time you’re a man. Can you understand?”

Ignoring her question he said, “Papa should be here to protect us. I didn’t even get to tell him good-bye.” 

“Don’t be angry, Nathan. He loved you very much. He loved all of us.” She slipped her arms around him again saying, “It was an accident. There was no chance for anyone to say good-bye. Dying wasn’t his choice. You’re a man, Nathan. You look just like him—tall and strong, yet gentle. You have his black, wavy hair, hazel eyes, even his strong chin. What would I do without you?”

Nathan didn’t say anything. He couldn’t stay mad at her. Her soft voice melted his heart. Even when she’s afraid, she comforts me. Momma’s right. About all of it. It isn’t her fault Papa died.

His anger, no longer directed at her, receded.

 “Momma, are we going to be all right?” asked Israel.

“I pray we will, son. Who can know with certainty?”

“I’m scared, Momma,” Israel said.

“I know, son, I know.”

Nathan felt her arms leave him. In a few seconds, he felt her rocking against him. He knew she was holding Israel.

The woman’s scream crept into Nathan’s mind again. He put his hands over his ears as if he could silence it. Was it Vasile’s mother?

Vasile was his best friend. It didn’t matter to Vasile that Nathan was a Jew. The two of them hunted elk, roe deer, wild boar, rabbit, and birds almost every day and rode their horses all over the surrounding countryside. They raced. Aza was faster and Nathan always won. Where is Vasile? Is he alive? Is he hiding in his cellar? Does he have his rifle?

Nathan was the better shot even though he was two years younger. The men in the village used to wager on which boy would bring in the most game.

The wind howling through the spaces in the cellar door pulled Nathan from his thoughts. He realized he couldn’t dwell on Vasile and his family. It was too painful.

His thoughts turned toward the village. Gagra sat at the base of the Caucasus Mountains in northern Georgia, on the eastern shore of the Black Sea. Tonight was one of the rare times the mountains let the Arctic winds assault the village. The Cossacks seem to have blown in like a whirlwind. Why have they attacked us? What is here that they want? Women? Food? Weapons? Many of the houses are already damaged and there are few families.

Nathan stroked the handle of Papa’s pistol. His father found it after the Turks raided the village. He told Nathan a Turkish soldier must have dropped the gun. The rifle and ammunition bag were gifts to Papa from a woman who lost her husband during the raid. That was when Papa became the village hunter. I’m the hunter now.

A strong gust rattled the cellar door, startling Nathan. When it died down, he could hear the terror of the night—constant gunfire, men cursing, women wailing. The sight of the burning house flooded his mind again. Please God, don’t let them burn our house.

Time crept past. The gunfire died down and the yells ceased. Suddenly, there was the sound of hoofbeats on the road—many horses at a gallop. The sound faded into the night.

“Momma, I think the Cossacks have gone. I’ll see if it’s safe now.”

“No, son.” She pulled Nathan to her and held him tight. “Wait a few minutes more. Maybe the fires will die down.”

“The wind’s too strong, Momma,” he protested. “The fires will burn all night. I need to see.” He tried to pull away from her.

She tightened her hold on him. “What can you do if it isn’t safe, Nathan?”

What can I do? I must do what Papa would do. I must be a man like Papa. “I’ll be careful,” he said pulling free of her.

He reached for his rifle, crept up the steps, and pushed the door open just enough to see into the yard. The fires from the burning village houses cast an eerie glow on the thick smoke swirling in the wind. He breathed a sigh of relief as he realized their home was still standing.

“The house and barn look to be all right,” he whispered to his mother. “Aza is safe. I won’t be gone long.”

Before she could protest, he pushed open the door and stepped into the yard. He let the door go just as Momma cried, “No, Nathan!”

He crossed the yard in a crouch, the rifle gripped tightly in his hands. The wind pushed at him with angry fingers. The back door was shut. This is good. Perhaps no one has gone inside.

He slipped into the house, pulled the door closed, and stood still listening for any sounds. There were none except from the outside. The smell of smoke was strong. The blaze of fires lit the room with an odd glow. Through a window, he could see the village. A strange peace filled the house in contrast to the nightmare outside.

Nathan checked each room. Clear. He ran up the stairs. Satisfied everything was in place he returned to the kitchen. He took one last look around and stepped out the door.

As he turned to shut the door, his rifle was jerked from his hand. He froze, his heart pounding, his breath suspended. He felt a pistol jab into his back.

“Well, well. Who do we have here?” asked a deep, raspy voice. “Put your hands behind your head and turn around slowly.”

Nathan obeyed. As he turned, he gazed into the piercing eyes of a Cossack soldier.

Free editor

My Writing Happening by Tom Blubaugh

The interesting thing about my novel is that I did not have any intent to publish it, at least not in the beginning. When my mother passed away in 2005, I panicked, sort of, because she was leaving me with one other source of information about my grandfather, Nathan Hertzfield. I had been asking her questions for several years only to hear her say, “my accounts are different than my sisters.” This was pretty much the end of the story. 

I grabbed a tape recorder and headed to my aunt’s home in Wichita, KS. I spent two hours asking her questions, but left with very little new information. Nevertheless, I started researching the information I had and found it fit in with Russian history. This excited me tremendously. At last, I thought, I’m learning about my grandfather. 

My writing was not in a book format. I was simply typing information that interested me, but as I continued, more questions developed than answers.  However, in the back of my mind I began thinking that this is something I could write for my children and grandchildren—perhaps a family legacy. 

At the same time, I began developing a family genealogy site pulling together information from every source I could find on both sides of my family. Every time I found something of interest, I would research and add links to sites that were of interest. When I finished I had hundreds of pages of information, pictures, and facts going back to France, Germany, Poland, and Russia. A wealth of information for anyone coming behind me who had the same desire for family history as I had. 

At this point, I began thinking I might have something worth publishing. I searched for an online Christian writer’s group and joined one on Yahoo. I stayed on the sidelines for a while to see what writers talked about. After a while, I saw a topic start that dealt with asking for critiques of some work. I sent a private message to Michelle Buckman—My Beautiful Disaster, Maggie Come Lately, A Piece of the Sky, Pretty Maids All in a Row and more recently, Death Panels and Rachel’s Contrition. I asked her if she would read the first chapter and give me her opinion. She did much more than that. She was very encouraging and I went searching for a critique group.

The group I joined was very kind and helpful. They told their goal was to get me published. I learned a great deal from this group and as the story developed, I could see it as a published work. I was not prepared for how it all came about. I read horror stories of numerous rejections, scrapped manuscripts and so on. I was not sure I wanted to put myself in the middle of this kind of process. 

It was while I was thinking this through that Dennis and Polly Vance approached me and asked if they could publish my book. It wasn’t so much me writing a book for children, but a spiritual happening. Even now, I know that readers from age 12 through 85 have read and enjoyed my novel.

Are you first venturing into the road to publication as a second career or in your post-retirement years? How have you been encouraged not to give up your writing endeavors? Tom would love to hear from you.

Author Bio:

Tom Blubaugh is a freelance writer living in Southwest Missouri with Barbara, his wife.  They have six children and fourteen grandchildren. Tom has written non-fiction most of his adult life, but has recently written a historical fiction titled Night of the Cossack, published by Bound by Faith Publishers. This is Tom’s first novel. He co-wrote a devotional journal in 2009 for Barbour Publishing titled The Great Adventure. His other writings include articles for a denominational magazine and an insurance publication. He also self-published a book, Behind the Scenes of the Bus Ministry in 1974.

Tom started writing poetry at the age of fourteen. His vision of turning them into lyrics for rock and roll songs for popular artists didn’t develop. He considers writing to be a God-given talent and feels led to develop it. His first novel was published at his age of 69. Tom says it’s never too late. He is now writing a sequel.

Tom spent twelve years as an insurance agent and eleven years as a financial planner. He is the past president of Jericho Commission, Inc., and still serves on the board of directors. 

How To Find Tom:

Tom Blubaugh, Author of Night of the Cossack--Read the first chapter get a signed copy by ordering here. FREE shipping in USA. Published by Bound by Faith Publishers.

ebook for Kindle available at Amazon.com. Be sure to like my page and do a review when you finish, if you like my book.

Amazon Author page.

Amazon reviews.

ebook for Nook available at Barnes & Noble

Night of the Cossack Facebook author page. Be sure to like my page while you're there please.

Personal Facebook page

Visit My Blog. Be sure to sign up as a follower.

Twitter @tomblubaugh

Author's Den. A great Author/Reader site.  You can join free.  Look me up and be sure to become a fan while you're there.

Check me out on Goodreads.

Co-author of The Great Adventure published by Barbour Publishing. (out of print).

Genesis Project

Jericho Commission, Inc.

Jennifer Slattery on: When God Has Other Plans

Everyone's Story welcomes Jennifer Slattery as its new guest this week. Jennifer has a strong internet presence in the writing world as well as ministries and her involvement with ACFW (American 
Christian Fiction Writers). We writers work with words and although we all know that once words are spoken or written they can be edited, rephrased, clarified, and apologized over, but even if retracted, will certain words ever be forgotten or erased? 
And, of all things, what kind of Easter message is this and why is it being posted on Good Friday? A very strong and beautiful one told eloquently by Jennifer. 


Jennifer looks forward to hearing from you. Come say a hello. Have your own WORD-story to share? Jennifer would love to hear from you.

Surrendering To The Call by Jennifer Slattery

Although I’ve always enjoyed writing as a hobby and stress reliever, I didn’t grow up dreaming to write. In fact, I wanted to do anything but! 

God had other plans. 

I fought God’s call for a while, telling Him all the reasons I couldn’t—shouldn’t write. My biggest hindrance was a deep shame for a sinful and broken past, and a lack of trust in human nature. God and I went rounds, until my disobedience got in the way of my relationship with Him. So I obeyed tentatively, with a long list of qualifiers all centered on one thing—self-protection. 

But the more I wrote, the more broken lives I encountered.  God showed me people living in shame from past regrets, people struggling with feelings of failure. Moved by compassion, I began to openly share my failings, my selfishness, and my fears, so that others could see the depths of God’s love and grace. A beautiful thing happened. I found this enabled others to do the same. 

I thought I’d reached full surrender, and yet, God’s work in me wasn’t finished. Amidst my obedience, God saw a thread of self-protection holding me back—my fears of being an inadequate servant. 

A short time ago, responding in pain and anger, I sent an ugly email to a fellow Christian. Although I apologized within an hour of doing so, it wasn’t long before others became involved. This hit on one of my deepest fears—the one barrier left between full surrender. 

Courtesy Google Images

My first reaction was self-protection. I wanted to retreat, to isolate. I told God this wasn’t part of our bargain and reminded Him of our initial conversation.  After a day of tears, Bible study, and prayer, God showed me a bigger work, exposing some heart-issues He wanted to deal with.  After addressing my sin, He directed me to Psalm 86 which talks about trusting in God, seeking help from Him, and learning His ways. My ways are to lash out, to withdraw, to isolate. He longs for humility, full surrender, and unhindered obedience. 

Psalm 86:2, 4-5, 11 “Protect me, for I am devoted to you.
Save me, for I serve you and trust you.
You are my God. … Give me happiness, O Lord,
for I give myself to you. O Lord, you are so good, so ready to forgive, so full of unfailing love for all who ask for your help. … Teach me your ways, O Lord, that I may live according to your truth!
Grant me purity of heart, so that I may honor you.

Through this experience, I learned sin is painful and often has long-term effects. Had I practiced self-control instead of lashing out in anger, this ugly mess never would have occurred. And yet, once I confessed my sin and asked for forgiveness, God showed me yet again the depths of His grace. He then offered me an opportunity to rest in His grace or stay focused on my mistake.

We all have fears, sinful behaviors, and wounds that hinder our service. If not diligently and prayerfully fought against, they get in the way of our calling. We’re fallen people living in a fallen world among fallen humans. Paul faced judgment, Peter faced remorse, David faced shame, and Joseph faced betrayal. And yet, somehow they moved past these things and kept their eyes on their Creator.  God calls me—us—to do the same, throwing off everything that hinders to run with perseverance the race mapped out for us. For me, that means surrendering to the call of writing, even if it means self-exposure. 

What about you? Is there anything holding you back from full surrender? 

Courtesy of Jennifer Slattery

Author Bio:

Jennifer Slattery lives in the Midwest with her husband and daughter. She writes for Christ to the World Ministries, the ACFW Journal, Jewels of Encouragement, and Internet Café Devotions, and her work has appeared in numerous publications and compilation works.

Visit her online at:

Jennifer Slattery Lives Out Loud <http://jenniferslatterylivesoutloud.com/>
Clash of the Titles <http://www.clashofthetitles.com/>
Internet Cafe Devotions <http://internetcafedevotions.com/>
Jewels of Encouragement <http://www.jewelsofencouragement.com/>
Facebook  <http://www.facebook.com/JenSlatte>