Heralds Publishing Salvation

trumpeters-921709_1280“We remain on Earth as sowers to scatter good seed; as plowmen to break up the fallow ground; as heralds publishing salvation.”                     — Charles Spurgeon

Heralds publishing salvation.

As I read this devotion from Spurgeon I was stopped by this phrase in particular, and felt in myself that rare spark that told me those words were special and I’d better be listening.

I rewrote the phrase in my journal, letting the words simmer.

Heralds publishing salvation—what a beautiful vocation to have.

Spurgeon was right, and God was gracious in reminding me of just one of His purposes for my life at the moment. You see, when I began writing fiction in a lonely hotel room four years ago, I had no idea what I was doing. I had no idea what the rules of publishing were—how long publishers required the word count to be, what certain topics to avoid or cling to, what genre sold and what didn’t. I just found some inspiration and started typing away.

But in the past year or so, with one book finished and now on that long hopeful track toward publication, I’ve learned a lot. Enough, in fact, to find myself getting bogged down in the details and in need of a God-sized reminder of what I was trying to do in the first place.

And yesterday morning, during devotion time, that reminder came.

So… so what if Christian fiction is having a hard go of it right now? So what if the latest advice is to drop the spiritual talk in order for the manuscript to have a chance at the general market? It may be fine advice and perhaps (Lord desirous) a tactic in future books, but as for this one, I see a unique stamp of God in it just as it is, and that’s something I must hesitate to take White Out to. After all, it’s not every day one gets the chance to be a herald publishing salvation.

Following the leading of the Lord, whatever it may be, is always the wisest plan.

“It is better to trust in the LORD than to put confidence in man.” Psalm 118:8


Daily Meditation: Psalm 118

Bible in a Year: Ezra 3-5; John 20


Bathroom Shelves and Old Books

The car ride to my in-laws was the breaking point this weekend. The babies decided halfway to Knoxville to scream with all they had in their tiny lungs. For an hour. Normally I just deal with it but on Friday I found myself cowered in the passenger seat, head on the glove compartment, hands pressed over my ears. I felt pathetic. There my husband was, one eye on the road and the other on his crazy wife, seeing me fall to pieces over the same amount of stress he manages to deal with so nonchalantly every day. I felt guilty. There I was spiraling into despair when there are such real and devastating issues of sex trafficking and ISIS—to name a mere two of 1,000,000. Finally, I was just so frustrated at myself. Why was I allowing my mood to ruin what was supposed to be a wonderful evening?

Of course, it wasn’t just the stress of crying babies. There were and are a dozen deep-seated issues that I’ve been shoving aside for some time, not realizing as they’ve quietly mounted like piles of snow on a chilly Vermont curbside. But cowering does not solve such problems; allowing my chest to get so tight it’s about to explode doesn’t solve anything. And I knew it. I just (felt I) couldn’t help it.

And of all the places and people and ways for God to speak to me, to comfort me and bring me back to logic and perspective, it came in the bathroom.

In the quaint little guest bathroom–the place I ran to for escape–there are three shelves in the corner, stacked with magazines. And on the bottom shelf, I saw an old copy of My Utmost for His Highest. I plucked it up and the passage spoke to me:

There are certain things we must not pray about—moods, for instances. Moods never go by praying, moods go by kicking. A mood nearly always has its seat in the physical condition, not in the moral. It is a continual effort not to listen to the moods which arise from a physical condition, never submit to them for a second. We have to take ourselves by the scruff of the neck and shake ourselves, and we will find that we can do what we said we could not. The curse with most of us is that we won’t.

Just like that, I had the strength to follow through and pray about the things going on in my life. Just like that, God met me and helped me pitch the tar off my heart, freeing me to both enjoy the evening and rationally discuss how to deal with my current issues.

As Oswald says, sometimes it takes a good kick of sturdy words to get back in the game.


But when the Father sends the Advocate as my representative–that is, the Holy Spirit–he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you.

-John 14:26


Moving Waters

creekA couple of days ago I went on a walk— more specifically, I dashed out the door for a 15-minute escape from screaming babies during dinner time. As I abandoned my husband to the little rulers (I regret nothing) and strolled along the walking path behind my home I watched the fog hovering over the hill to my left, felt the mist on my face, and absentmindedly listened to the creek that trailed beside me.

As I moved along, doing nothing and (if you’re a mom you understand) utterly enjoying doing nothing, I suddenly stopped, realizing the creek that had been gurgling so pleasantly beside me suddenly went silent. Instinctively I turned toward it, almost as though I expected the creek to have disappeared. But, of course, there it was. The rocks that had caused little waterfalls and light splashes several feet before were just not there, leaving the waters free to pool itself into a flat glass of quiet. A few feet ahead were rocks and it would again make that lovely babbling brook noise, but for now it was silent.

And just as God so often gave the prophets messages through the menial, day-to-day images of life, I felt the symbolism forming:

Is this not like the way God is working now?

Sometimes He boldly shows me miracles, shouts in devotion times, speaks through people’s messages and encouragements. At points my life is thrilling and big things are happening and I start to think it will never end. But then come seasons of silence, where it’s tempting to wonder if God is doing anything with my life and my work at all.

Then I am reminded, even in silence God is moving waters.

Quietly the stream creeps toward the next set of rocks, the next exciting and thrilling moment. But all the time God is faithfully there and the work is still sufficient.

There is beauty in silence. There is life, and hope, and great and wonderful reminders from God that reach us when we turn off our phones, step away from our computers, get away from the haziness of distraction and let nothing– and then something– fill us.

Frederick Buechner states, “Out of the silence let the only real news come, which is sad news [our sin and brokenness] before it is glad news [God’s forgiveness] and that is fairy tale last of all. The preacher is not brave enough to be literally silent for long, and since it is his calling to speak the truth with love, even if he were brave enough, he would not be silent for long because we are none of us very good at silence. It says too much.” (Telling the Truth)

“Be silent and know that I am God, says the Lord.” (Psalm 46:10)