It's been over a year since I've posted regularly on my blog, and while I do not intend to keep up with my regular weekly updates, I think its time to revive this thing.
The past six or so months, I've struggled with my writing. I am a very busy person. For the most part, I enjoy staying busy, but I've been juggling tasks at my limit for quite some time now. I'm not sure what items I can drop; they are all very important to me.
So, writing took its place on the back-burner of my schedule. I'm ashamed to say I haven't really worked on fiction in months either. People have asked me how my novel is going. I have to tell them that truthfully its going nowhere fast. I feel like wincing every time I have to say it.
Maybe its the coming of the New Year, hearing everyone else talk about resolutions (even though I dislike resolutions personally). Perhaps it is the rising out of the ashes of the holiday season, tired and lethargic. Or maybe, if I am brave enough to say it, from the dissatisfaction with the present comes a desire for change.
So, I thank you for your patience and understanding. I'm going to need the encouragement to fight the uphill battle of self improvement. Thanks for the likes and the comments. Much appreciated. I look forward to the future.
As you can see, I've taken a hiatus from new blog posts recently. You might be wondering why.
I'm feeling anxious lately. I want to write,
but every time I sit down and work on the book I've been tackling, I get
too jittery and get up. I can't sit still. I struggle to motivate
myself at work. I want something new, but I feel like its wiser to stay
the course and wait for the emotions to die down. Still, I'm not
ignoring them. Just keeping my eyes open to see if anything pops up.
Alas...the bills need to be paid and responsibility needs to happen. That's what keeps me on the ground.
I graduated from the University of California, Irvine (zot zot) in 2010. Four years later, so much has happened since my graduation, I feel like it was a lifetime ago. Yet I can still remember it like yesterday.
I remember the anxiety of taking my first steps into the real world of careers and 9-5 work schedules. I remember debating whether or not I had to go to grad school, whether or not that would affect my future. I recall considering getting a teaching credential and teaching high school English.
Now, four years later, all my worries seem silly. I'm married, working, co-own a home. Things that seemed perpetually "down the road" at the time of graduation. I notice some of the graduates dwelling in anxiety. Part of me wants to tell them to not waste their time; the other part of me knows they need to learn a few things of experience like I did. A few things like:
I've decided to take a little hiatus from working on my YA novel, and I'm quite hesitant about doing so.
I'm at that point in my editing where I feel like my novel is horrid and so far from everything I want it to be that its not salvageable. Of course, no novel is beyond the point of saving. It just feels that way. (If you didn't get it, I'm at the "dark night of the soul" part.)
You can probably relate. You don't connect with your protagonist (or any of your characters, really). You wonder why you're writing the thing in the first place. You lack drive to see it through.
As readers, we've all been there. We're reading this amazing book and we are drowning in it. You just can't put that stack of paper down.
After you finish, there is a bittersweet moment. The ending was so good, but its over! Why does it have to be over?
So, you go off in search of another book just as fabulous. You either search the shelves, read reviews on Amazon, or type frantically, just waiting to get that "high" again.
But it doesn't come.
So you spend hours upon hours looking for something else that will give you that same high.
Okay, you're starting to see my analogy. No, books are not as dangerous as drugs, but I think something needs to be said about story addiction.
Dear friend, It makes me sad to see you in pain, to see you stressed. I really don't want you to be so manipulated by the world around you. Sometimes I see what worries you, what really gets you down, and I wish I could just tell you, "This is so trivial. It's not worth worrying about." But that would be insensitive because obviously, its worth worrying about to you. What I'm trying to say I wish for you something better. I don't pretend to know the secret to life or have it all together, because I don't, but what I do know is that God will give us rest. What I do know is that Jesus promises us this:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (NIV, Matthew 11:28-30)
You mention pain in your life, and I want to just tell you to let it go. Shed those burdens. Stop carrying that baggage around with you everywhere. It's not worth it. But I know its not that easy. You will grow with time, I know. You are strong. I just pray you start to realize that your world doesn't need to revolve around your problems. It sounds harsh, but I say it with love. Trust my own experience. The sooner you live for something bigger than yourself, something other than your life, the better your life gets. Promise. I keep thinking of this song. May the lyrics bless you.
Happiness is what everyone wants. You don't need to be a genius to see that in today's culture. Humans long, desire, yearn for satisfaction and contentment. Lasting happiness.
But feelings come and go. Emotions are more unstable than radioactive atoms. We're just not happy all the time. So we search for new methods to attain what we want.
I don't know much, but there are a few things I've learned so far that might help us live happier lives.
If you're a young adult, you know what new things you can (or cannot) do once you hit certain benchmark ages.
At 16, you can get your license!!!!!!!
At 18, you can drive minors legally, buy cigarettes, buy lottery tickets, go to prison, vote, etc.
At 21, you can drink alcohol and you can drink more alcohol.
And at age 25, you can rent a car without insanely high fees (among other things). The government considers you "responsible" now. There is nothing left to look forward to. This is your last benchmark. Well, until you hit 65. And that's not something you're looking forward to.
I recently hit my last "young" benchmark. I no longer have any age-restricted, coming-of-age celebrations to look forward to that aren't decades.
Late 2012, my husband began
praying, asking God to really bless our efforts to reach out to others.
He started taking some of the guys in our college group out to dinner.
The first one he hung out with was Michael.
At the time, Michael was living at
a friend’s house and was faced with the possibility that he might not be able
to stay there much longer.Jon told me,
in the future, Michael might need a place to live and approached me about
offering our extra room for him if the opportunity arose. It seemed God
was being very clear.
I have to admit that I had a lot of
reservations. Being newlyweds, I had become attached to our easy privacy
at home. Selfishly, that was my first worry.How would the presence of a third person in
the house affect our marriage?
I've been asked the question by more than one person: "Cheryl, what do you do for fun?"
I have to pause and think about it.
They are asking the question seriously, and I guess its a serious problem that they have to ask that. Most people have a hobby. And I do have hobbies, things I enjoy doing. It just seems like there is always something more important that my hobbies.
If you really delve into this American society, one thing is pretty certain: you will never have enough time.
There are a million and one things demanding your time. Exercise, self-improvement, hobbies, kids, church, work, work, and more work, family, friends, alone time, spouse time, music, Internet, Youtube, Facebook, Instagram, your phone, games, this blog, your blog, your hopes and your dreams. Everything wants a piece of your precious time.
And guess what? Time is the one of the few things you have that you cannot change. You can improve your health. You can earn more money. You can get an education to gain more knowledge. You can move up (or down) the social ladder, the economic ladder. You can even change your gender if you want.
I've often heard the phrase, "High school years are the best ones of your life," but I've never heard anyone pipe up and say, "Yep! That was true for me!"
I don't hate my memories from high school (there are definitely many fond ones), but there are many memories that, as a young adult, I wish I could hide in a box with a lock. We do some ridiculous things in those years when many of us are searching for an identity.
Don't you remember that time? You wanted to be like something. Everyone was categorized and typecasted to make it easier to become that role. Some people changed their identities overnight; some even changed their entire circle of friends just as fast.
A few days ago, I wrote a post on stepping outside of one's comfort zones in social situations and the importance of spending time with people. You can check that out here!
Now, there is a caveat to my advice:
Remember to rest.
Its seems the older we get, the busier we get, and the busier we get, the less rest we get. Sometimes I get caught up in all of the attempts to be socially active, and I get burnt out. I'm just tired. My brain doesn't work, I'm forgetful, I say stupid things, I'm short-tempered. So, its important to set aside time for yourself to recuperate from life.
Rest comes in many different forms:
Sometimes, that's being alone and doing things you love.
Sometimes, that means spending time with people who are easy to hang out with. Let's be honest. Its relaxing to hang out with some people; its NOT relaxing to hang out with others, no matter what you do together!
Sometimes, it means taking yourself out of society for awhile. Turn off your phone. Go to someplace that brings you peace and just sit.
Whatever it may be for you, schedule time to rest. If you don't schedule it, life won't give you an opportunity. You have to be proactive.
From one "I'd rather be at home than out in with large group of people" person to another, I have one thing to say to you:
Your company is valuable.
I write this to all of those people who would much rather spend an intimate evening with a small group of friends or one-on-one with someone rather than be in a huge group. I'm like you. I'd much rather spend my evening home with my husband than out at a bar. Claustrophobia, anyone?
However, I've had to come to grips with the fact that being out in the world socially is important. God's given each person unique and wonderful personality traits that are meant to be USED for others. If we selfishly stay at home all the time because its more comfortable for us, we're not exploring the many ways that God can use our gifts to bless others.
I struggled with this over the holidays when there are a myriad of Christmas parties to go to. As a result, I'd go to social events cranky because I kept concentrating on where I'd rather be than where I was.
I'm not saying every person needs to make themselves into a social butterfly; all I'm saying is I need to make more of an effort to touch other people's lives. And that often requires you to be in uncomfortable social situations. Will you join me?
There is always that awkward person in the crowd. Hang out with them. Find that wallflower and go talk to them. Spend a little bit of time talking to people you don't know. Stay away from the cliques. Notice the group that's always ostracized and be there. Ostracize yourself for the sake of others.
You never know how valuable your company might be to someone else's day...or even their life. And guess what? You might just get something out of it too.
My writing professor in college, Ron Carlson, told me not to go toward my MFA right away; he told me to get some life experience first. Now, two years after graduation, I understand a little more about what he wanted me to learn.
I guess that is what my blog is about: my experiences, things I've learned, things I'm thinking about and digesting. To me, portraying life is what writing is all about.
With that being said, recently I've been making the transition in my life from "my" to "our". After you get married, you are expected for "two to become one flesh". It's a concept that I hadn't truly began to understand until recently. In no other time in my life have I really been asked to share truly everything that I have.
Any decision I make is now our decision. Any purchase my husband makes is now our purchase. Any choice that my husband makes is now my choice too. Our house. Our car. Our clothes. Our laundry. Our dirty dishes. Our family. Our life.
I was writing thank you notes today for Christmas gifts. I had to remind myself to say, "We are so excited about this gift," instead of "I loved your gift!".
Coming at life with this understanding that everything is shared changes everything. Your life is not the only one on the line; both parties will suffer whatever consequences you make.
What can sound ominous and scary actually brings comfort too. Our burdens. Our problems. They are no longer something that I need to handle on my own. We're in this together.
My understanding of marriage as a symbol of God's relationship with Him deepens and grows every day. This transition, though difficult at times, is yet another blessing God has given me, given us.
aka How to Appreciate Modern Plumbing & Hot Water More aka First World Problems
My water heater recently broke. The hubby said the pilot light wouldn't light and all that. Most of it went over my head. All I knew was there wasn't hot water for my shower, and it was winter. As for me, my skin and scalp in less than 24 hours get as greasy as a bacon pan, so I need my shower every day.
Desperate and unwilling to take a shower in the frigid waters of the Arctic, I did the following:
1) I took my largest pot and filled it with water. I lugged it to my stove and brought it to a boil. Took awhile. It was a large pot of cold water, so its understandable.
2) I filled my tub with about two inches of cold water. I dumped about a quarter of the hot water in, so it would be tolerable to sit in the tub.
3) I used a pitcher of water to pour the hot water on myself. I would mix it with the cold water from the bottom of the tub at first because the water was so hot. Later, it cooled enough.
3.5) My husband had the absolutely BRILLIANT idea of pulling the room heater into the bathroom. He turned it on high, and because the bathroom is such a small room, the room heated up in a few minutes.
4) Washed my hair twice, conditioned it, washed my body, and washed my face. Felt a little exotic, like bathing underneath a warm tropical waterfall. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration due to the fact that I was relishing in the hot water. (And note: it had only been 36 hours since my last hot shower.)
5) I had a third of the pot left at the end of the day to just pour over my face and body and indulge!
So, that is how I did it, for anyone who was wondering. And for those who are thinking this is "TMI" for you, my apologies for making you feel awkward.
Funny how taking one "simple" thing away as a hot water heater made me that much more thankful for hot water. And funny how living for 48 hours without a water heater can cause such a disruption in my life when people across the world don't even get clean water on a daily basis, much less clean hot water to shower in.
According to the first link on a quick Google search, the average shower head is using 2.5 gallons of water per minute. So a 10-minute shower uses 25 gallons of water. And I just used less than probably three gallons to wash myself this way.
I'm not here to bash the wastefulness of America or harp on our society's water usage. I'm just concentrating on thankfulness. 48-hours and a new water heater later (Yay for my hubby, my water heater hero), I can say that I have a new appreciation for my hot showers.
And just to be super appreciative of this piece of technology, here is a picture of our new water heater. Ta da!
And if you also from FWP, check out this video to help you here!
Every Christmas season, I eagerly and excitedly get ready in anticipation for my favorite time of year. If you follow me on Instagram, you'll see that lately, ALL of my posts have some sort of Christmas theme to them.
I know you've all heard it before, but the reason for the season often gets lost of in all of the doings and the goings. We often try to make sure that we remember why we are celebrating. You hear in church on Sundays the pastor tell you to SLOW DOWN and concentrate on what we're really doing. Your children in Sunday School learn all of the symbols of Christmas and why we give gifts, etc. But...it still feels like we're missing something.
The society today will try to convince you that Christmas is the time of year to give and to get. The time of the year that everyone feels a little bit more generous and dumps that little bit of change in the Salvation Army kettle or donates hastily before the end of the year to that charity saying your gift will be doubled. You hear of people on the radio talk about how we are so blessed in American and how kids in third world countries don't get anything for Christmas, not even food.
I remember as a child on Christmas morning that my sisters and I would rush downstairs to see gazillions of presents spilling out from beneath the tree. We would want to open them, but Mom would always stop us, make us sit down at eat breakfast, and then we would sing Happy Birthday to Jesus.
Yes, we are celebrating Jesus' birth. But that's not just what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown. Its not just Jesus' birth. Because the more I learn about Christmas, the more I learn about we are celebrating WHY Jesus was born.
One of my favorite Christmas songs is by Relient K called "I Celebrate the Day". (Listen to it here!) Their single lyrics says it all for me:
I celebrate the day
That You were born to die
So I could one day pray to You to save my life
If we are to truly celebrate Christmas, isn't it imperative that we celebrate that Jesus was born to die? Not just to die, but to die a painful, unthinkable death for me.
I don't think I have truly wrapped my mind around that.
How do we celebrate such a gift? Its that moment when someone gives you something you so desperately need that you could not possible get for yourself. Do we donate to poor children? Give to families in need? Sing Christmas carols? Celebrate family?
I don't think there is one right answer, but knowing what I know of God's heart, I believe He would want us to love to the fullest extent of our abilities. To take His gift to us and make it explode. Because true gratitude for Jesus' death comes with the understanding that we can never repay Him back. But we can pass on the news.
So, may your celebrations of Jesus' birth be filled with a warmth in your heart and a peace in your soul that only comes from knowing that we celebrate the most valuable gift ever given.
I'm no economist or even a math person. (Adding in my head is a chore.) But I am a consumer, an employee, and a tax payer. I am actively participating in this country's (and the world's) economy.
And the longer I earn money, the longer I am convinced of its true purpose: to be given away.
The only reason we have money is for the purpose of attaching a value to something. One hour of work is worth $8.50 to an employer of a fast food chain, but maybe $50 for a doctor's work. Money tells us how much a store is willing to sell a loaf of bread to us for.
Money also reveals value when we give it. When you give $1, it means less than giving $10,000. Also, if you earn $8.50 an hour, giving $100 means a lot more to you than someone making $50 an hour.
We all know about inflation, the liquid-like way money's value changes. It's all relative, thus the reason why money functions as system of value.
But no matter who you are, whether you are a starving orphan in Africa or the CEO of one of America's top companies, there will always be someone who has less than you. Yes, we use money to survive. To consume those things we need, such as shelter, food, clothing.
But money doesn't really show its brilliant golden smile until it is given away, until the reason why it dictates value in the first place comes into play. When you give it away, use it to buy someone else dinner or to purchase someone a gift, money's true purpose is revealed: to bring value to your gift.
This may not be entirely "accurate" in an economist's eyes, but money functions in a myriad of ways in our society, and I would have to argue all of those functions exist in order to demonstrate the value of giving it away.
As a writer, I am constantly in one of these three states:
1) Insatiable: I have to write. I need to write. There is this longing that every time I sit in front of a computer or I have a pen in my hand, that I must put something creative. One word: Passion.
2) Determined: There's no burning desire or anything, but because I've committed myself to finish that wretched novel, no matter how much it drips of cliche, I'm going to finish it. At least to be able to tell myself that I did. There may be varying levels of joy in the process, but the determination is really what pushes me along.
3) Exhausted: There are too many other things to do. I don't know why I'm wasting my time on this thing. I know I should do it, I know that I need to work on my writing, but somehow I can't muster up anything (drive, courage, will-power) to get anything out. I am so discouraged on multiple levels that I often wonder where that insatiable desire went.
Isn't that how it is with anything you love? Whether it be a person (your husband, your sister, your best friend), any other hobbies or even your work. Life fluctuates, as does your resolve and your emotions. Understandable.
The trick is in the "exhausted" stage, one that I often refer to as "burn out", somehow one must find the hidden, often inexplicable energy to continue on. Whether in writing or in marriage, it's all the same. It is in those times, when you really don't want to have anything to do with it, that you really prove your love. As they say, its not real unless its been tested and still stands.
There was always something magical about the first day. Even though it would get warm by the afternoon, fall was creeping into the morning. It wasn't so humid; there was a crispness to the air. It was cool enough to put on a sweater.
I would wake up at 6:30 a.m., sometimes before my alarm, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Even though I hadn't been awake before 9:00 a.m. for the past three months, I didn't feel tired. I would pull myself to the bathroom. It was necessary to turn on the yellow lights in the dimness; the sun wasn't quite full strength yet. The morning would feel foreign but familiar, like visiting a place you hadn't been to since you were young.
After dressing and rechecking my neatly organized backpack with new pencils, new binders, and neatly printed tab dividers, I would walk downstairs with my new sneakers in my hand, put them near the door, and go to the kitchen. My mom would be cooking breakfast, something hearty like eggs and sausage or pancakes with chocolate chips in them. I would get first dibs because my sisters were never morning people.
When everyone was ready, my mom would force us to take a first day of school picture in front of the house. We would stand in formation, ordering our German Shepherd to sit at our feet so he could be in the picture too, and force an enthusiastic smile. After two or three takes (Mom always had to make sure she got a good one), we would walk up the street to the bus stop and wait for the yellow vehicle that had its own set of social rules.
By the end of the year, the routine would get old and tired. I would hit my snooze button, miss breakfast, and wear old clothes. But every year, that first Tuesday after Labor Day, it would all start again and somehow still exude the feeling of a fresh new beginning.
