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Where to Turn

Voracious.

Insatiable.

Ravenous.

Any and all of those words can describe my appetite for books.  I devour them.  It’s the one habit I can’t kick and honestly it is the reason I don’t write more often.  It’s not a good reason, but it’s a reason.  To soothe my conscious I try to read books about writing.  I’m not saying that it takes the place of writing.  That would be going down a slippery slope.  As we’ve already stated, many times we need to sit down and WRITE.

There are, however times when we need to get a fresh perspective or be reminded that we are not alone.  It is in times like this that turning to the written word about the words we wish to write (say that ten times fast) can help us regroup.  Today I’d like to share some of my favorite books on writing and hear what some of yours are….

On Writing by Stephen King

Just knowing who wrote this is what I like the best.  This man’s perspective and writing style is epic.

You Are A Writer (So Start Acting Like One) by Jeff Goins

This is the kick in the pants that every writer needs.  You can read my review here because I had a lot more to say about this book.

It will be some of the best 499 pennies you’ll ever spend.

Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott

Anne makes me laugh and shake my head because she’s talking about me!! Did you read that?  It’s like she’s been stalking my writing habits (or lack thereof) and then wrote about it.

The War of Art by Steven Pressfield

Why is it so difficult to create art?  Because it’s a war.  A good read.  Some language.

The Elements of Style by Strunk & White

THE classic.  To bring in some twitter, #enoughsaid.

So how about you?  To which yellowed and underlined pages do you turn when in need of inspiration or instruction?  Why?  I’m so excited to hear what you read and why.

Today’s Challenge:  Pick one book on writing and plan to have finished reading it by the end of July.  Then, share in the comments or in the Facebook Group

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Her Story: Freedom From Spiritual Abuse

Each month, a brave & beautiful woman from the Allume community un-shelves a volume of her life and unclasps her heart for us to share Her Story.

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More than a year, she lived in the chilling stranglehold of fear.  Trapped by confusion and doubt, the walls of control and deception closed in around her as she struggled to keep her faith untainted…and by the grace of God, fled with her family to freedom.

This is Tereasa,

and her story of freedom in Christ from spiritual abuse.

~

Outwardly, belief of the community appeared wholesome, fresh, and freeing.  Tereasa and her family had been searching for a place to call home – to belong, to thrive with a sense of significance.  Led by their long-time friend {known as “the shepherd”}, the close-knit, “family” structure of the community and its focus on the church called their names.  It was literally like “one big happy family,” with generations living and working side by side, welcoming new-comers with open arms and a true sense of purpose.

But inside, the community wrapped its members in the psychological shackles of false doctrine and control.

Under the spell of the shepherd and his perversions of the word of God, the members of the community began to slip into a state of spiritual death.  While she prayed fervently that this man, once her friend, and the people she loved so genuinely would receive a revelation of understanding – of the truth – she fell into despair.  And as the shepherd led the members of the community further down the path of destruction, Tereasa, unable to leave, or even miss a meeting without consequence, felt the steely bars of false teaching and strange legalism closing in around her.

In her anguish, she cried out for help…to the only One able to rescue her.

“I had spent a year and a half caught between fear of man and confidence in the Spirit; love and jealousy; peace and strife; truth and confusion.  I kept hearing that if I persevered, everything would come together and I would understand.  I was weary and ready to give up.  I began to think that if I just stopped thinking everything would be alright.  I gave up trying to figure it all out and begged God for understanding.

God opened my eyes to so much more than I expected.  My perfect world fell apart and I saw that the love I had longed to embrace was not what I thought.  All of a sudden I was no longer caught between two worlds.  I was terrified.  I didn’t know who to trust and I didn’t know what to do.  For almost two weeks, I silently cried for help.  A few times, my cries cut through the terror and squeaked enough for anyone to hear.  [My husband] was the only one to hear.”

One night, after reading to their children about Jacob’s flight from Laban under the cover of night, Tereasa’s son vocalized his thankfulness “for a dad who will always do what’s right, no matter how hard it is.”  After a terrifying string of events, brought to a head by the tender words of a child, they knew it was time to run. 

Homeless and penniless, Teresa and her family fled the community last summer.  The process of healing has been excruciating;

“I had nightmares for months, cried for weeks, lost weight and then gained weight. I felt like I was incapable of knowing truth. I was afraid to love or be loved. I was distrusting, skeptical of anyone who spoke about love, faith or anything related to Christianity. I couldn’t let people look me in the eyes. I startled easily. You get the idea. It was awful, but for the first time in my life, I was completely reliant on Jesus.”

With Jesus holding her close, Tereasa’s faith that she so carefully sheltered from the damage of the shepherd, and the strength she could only find in Christ are roaring to a blaze.  And despite the pain, throbbing through down to her very soul, she wouldn’t have changed her experience in the community if given the chance.  For it was by this very pain – the confusion, the terror – that she came to that raw, rock-bottom place where only Jesus Christ can meet you.

So now, with her back to the wind of the Truth and her hand wrapped in the tender protection of the true Shepherd, Tereasa is stepping forward into her new life, in the Freedom of a daughter of the King.

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Tereasa bares her soul, and explains her breakthrough in far more detail on her blog, His Pen On My Heart.  She also tweets @MTereasa.

Telling Stories

I see my little one struggling under the weight of this season. Dark clouds loom overhead. And it’s hard for this Mama to watch the rain.

How do I tell her that there will be more days like this? Hard seasons. Happy ones too. How do you give a daughter what she needs for the road ahead?

A few friends and I are meeting once a month with several younger women to tell our stories and share our faith. My friend Dianna said she wished someone would have been honest with her about this life with Christ, all those years ago. So we gathered, Friday night on Dianna’s back porch, and went around the room telling our stories.

The words spoken were pure poetry.

As I anticipated taking my turn to speak, I felt my face grow hot. I could have melted in the chair and faded away for fear. I looked at Dianna, who knows me inside and out, and hoped for a reprieve – maybe a “you-can-wait-‘til-next-time”.

Didn’t happen.

Instead, she prompted me to start at the beginning, “Lynnie, why don’t you start when you were a little girl and your parents divorced.” I swallowed hard and began my story when I was seven years old – the place when I became keenly aware of my need of a Savior.

The tears welled up as I poured out my heart and dark, red splotches covered my neck and chest. Raw emotion tumbled out in what felt like root ball clumps.

There it was. The “me” that’s underneath the mascara and hairspray. Exposed.

For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again.

2 Corinthians 5:14-15 NIV

It took several days to recover from all the uncovering.

Why put myself through the whole nervous ordeal? The love of Christ compels me. Stretches me. It takes me out of my comfort zone of religious platitudes and shallow conversation.

Love is the overflow and expansion of joy in God, which gladly meets the needs of others. Love is not merely the passive overflow, but the aggressive extension and expansion and completion of joy in God.

John Piper, The Dangerous Duty of Delight

Christ’s love compels me to share my story in order to spill His love on to someone else – maybe someone sitting on a back porch on a Friday night…or a daughter.

I’m a wife, mother, lover of Jesus and yes, a former beauty queen. I write about life, messy faith and real good food over here. You can also visit me on Facebook.