Living With Anticipation

     Of over one million books sold in the Kindle store, I am now ranked the 1,130 top selling book of all books. This includes all the bestsellers, all the classics, all the everything!  Not that I am checking every 5 minutes to watch my rank change or anything so obsessive like that.....
   I keep hoping that on one of my visits to the site, I will see a row of 5 cherries click in to place, a whole bunch of bells and whistles will sound, and a gameshow host voice will shout out,"It's official! I'm Listening with a Broken Ear, Kaseorg's debut novel, has gone viral! Ding ding ding!" It could happen. Dreams can come true....
     In between clicking on my sales, I visit the ski slope update site of Sugar mountain, where we are supposed to go on our first ski trip of the season tomorrow. Each day, with the warm front hovering atop the mountain, the snow melts more, and the number of ski runs open dwindle. They are down to three runs open, at the moment. They do happen to be the runs we most use, but I doubt they will survive through the expected 60 degree day. I suspect our first day of skiing will not materialize.
     This is too bad on many levels. For one thing, it will be the second time our first ski date of the season will be canceled. And secondly, the car is already packed with our skis, boots, snowboards, jackets, mittens, hats, sunglasses, change of clothes, extra jackets, snowpants, wool sweaters, helmets, emergency rations, blankets, water bottles, emergency water, satellite radio, towels, tissues, suntan lotion, first aid kits, and full body emergency casts.
     "How long are you going for this ski trip?" asks the little Elf crouching in his corner of the car.
     "At least 6 or 7 hours," I tell him.
     "All this for one day of skiing?"
     "I like to be prepared."
     "And you did this how many days in advance?"
     "Only 5."
     " I see. And if skiing is canceled?"
     " I have to unpack it all. Because then a few days from now, both sons and one new wife will be home and I need the car to transport them and their stuff."
     "You live a good bit of your life in anticipation. Did you know that?"
     "Is that a compliment?"
     "How will you feel if your book doesn't go viral?"
     "Honestly? Disappointed."
     "Uh huh. And how will you feel if you have to unpack all this stuff without being able to use it when the ski day is canceled?"
     "Disappointed."
     "Then I don't think it is a compliment."
     "Now don't you think that is a little harsh? I mean the Bible talks about waiting in expectation."
     "About books selling or packing for ski dates a week in advance?"
     "Maybe not specifically, but all creation is waiting breathlessly and preparing. I'm just giving that pose of expectant waiting a dry run on smaller things."
     "You better be careful about how you apply Biblical verses to your life."
       I hang my head in shame as the little car elf crawls back under the seat.
     "By the way," his tiny voice calls from his hiding place, " I have my fingers crossed on that viral thing."

Romans 8: 18-21
¹⁸ I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. ¹⁹ For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. ²⁰ For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope ²¹ that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

Sniffing Deeply of Life

    There is a small problem with the Christmas favorite- Bourbon Balls. These little innocuous sugar coated cookies can give you a hangover if you make them the way my mother did...and I always make them the way my mother did.
     I love the recipe she wrote for me when I left home and asked for all those special meals and treats she had made before she decided to boycott cooking forever.
     Bourbon balls:  2 c nuts, 1 lb. vanilla wafers, 3 T karo, and 3 oz. bourbon....or so....
     She always made them the or so way... and so do I. So yesterday, the house reeked of bourbon. At 10 a.m, my husband walked into the kitchen to see me poised at the counter with a bottle of bourbon in my hands. Not even a cup. It was like walking into the Bowery.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
     I made a double batch and mailed some to my mom. It was her favorite Christmas cookie, and drink...all in one small package.  I freeze mine so that I don't eat them all before the kids come home. That rarely works. I almost always have to make another batch. I just chip my teeth eating frozen bourbon balls.
     After completing my baking for the day, I took the dogs on a walk. At one point, Honeybun must have found a particularly tantalizing scent because I started to walk forward, and my shoulder dislocated as she planted her feet and wouldn't budge. Her nose was sniffing a mile a minute, and she had crouched low to the ground so that I could not remove her from that scent no matter how hard I tried. I stood there 5 minutes, indulging her. After all, it is almost Christmas and I was filled with a charitable spirit. Finally, I wrenched her away. I wondered if smells for a dog were like a good book to me. Had I just forced her to slam shut the equivalent of a book she couldn't put down?  We continued (she reluctantly) on, and I thought about all the little joys in life. Christmas memories, bourbon balls, wonderful smells. I remembered a Facebook post from a friend yesterday. All it said was "I am a blessed woman." No explanation. Just a recognition of blessedness.
     This is the proper attitude towards life, I thought. Smelling deeply of our profound blessings.

Psalm 34:
⁸ Taste and see that the LORD is good;
   blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.

A Pumpkin Lover Makes my Day

     After an exhilarating run of almost 2,000 of my e-bboks snatched up during the free promotional, it is now full price again, a whopping $2.99, and I hope sales will still skyrocket being as now I would actually get paid for them....
     However, I was paid in an unexpected way. Not with money, but as we all know, money can't buy happiness. (Don't get me wrong- go out and buy my book in droves so I can fully test that theory....) My payment came in a review from someone who calls herself  "Love my Pumpkins". I have no idea who this is. I was looking at my book site which no longer shows me the ranking in my category since the promotion ended. But I did notice a new review. Pumpkin Lover stated better than I could what I had hoped to accomplish with my book.  So today, I will post her review instead of my own thoughts because she was the encouraging voice of God channeled in my direction :

I just love this book. I'm sure my family/friends are sick of hearing me gush over it, but it really is a must-read. I don't care if you're atheist or "cat" person, it's the kind of compassion and self-depreciation that Vicky shows that really makes you want to be a better person yourself! This tale (tail?) ends up being a self-help book since you can't help but reflect on your own reliance and values.

First off, Kaseorg is a wonderful soul who grapples with her inner-monologue....dialogue....trialogue, if there is such a thing. There is a dog, Honeybun, who wants so little from life. But like most people, Kaseorg's world is stuffed full of "commitments" that she barely sees the space for this sad mutt. Unbeknownst to the author, Honeybun is barely a mutt but an American Dingo and a fantastic agility dog! What Kaseorg and her daughter teach this dog comes back to them ten-fold when this four-legged wonder gives them lessons on life.

"I'm Listening With a Broken Ear" isn't a 'happy-ending' kind or book, nor is is a 'happy-start'. It's the kind of book that gives you a correlation between spiritual beliefs (the Bible), familial controversies and good old-fashioned dog behavioral tips. Kudos to Kaseorg for putting into words what so many of us can't! 

When I finished reading this review, I was in tears. So this is what I had set out to do, I thought! This Pumpkin Lover nailed it. I love how she reminds us...and me.... that time commitments can crowd out eternal blessings and prevent us from doing what we really should. Pumpkin Lover, whoever you are, Thankyou for that beautiful and encouraging reminder today.

Acts 15: 31
³¹ The people read it and were glad for its encouraging message.

 

A Book of Hope

     My e-book version of I'm Listening With a Broken Ear is having a promotion. It was advertised to Kindle owners and offered free for download to any mobile device/computer/iPod for two days. For some reason, it is still free. I am not sure how long that will last. However, I had forgotten that they would be doing a promotion and just happened to check the website where I can track my book sales. I do that occasionally when I feel like tormenting myself and lowering my self esteem. It was in the morning yesterday.
     "That's odd," I told my husband Arvo, "I have sold a hundred books this morning."
     I then checked an hour later.
     "I have sold 300!" I was becoming famous and I wasn't even dead yet!
    Within the next hour, I had sold almost a thousand. I get no royalties during the promotion, but it didn't matter. My book was flying off the shelves. It had started as something like the 410,000 most popular e-book in it's category. By the end of the day, it soared to #2. Some people wrote to tell me they enjoyed the e-book so much that they were ordering the print version. The print version is currently about the 1 millionth best selling book on Amazon....but you just never know what a little promotion might do. A blizzard starts with one snowflake.
     My son Matt found the promotional site, which I had not even seen, and there were comments, from strangers all over the country. They said things like, "This one looks really good. I've started it and it is so interesting."  Another comment said, "This one looks like a tear jerker. I don't want to read another sad dog story."
     NO! , I wanted to tell her, it is not another sad dog story! In this one the dog overcomes!The dog  is even still alive when the book ends. This is a book of hope! This is the perfect book for Christmas. Similarly,who could have imagined that  the story of a frightened, unmarried teenager who finds herself pregnant and then  travels on a donkey hundreds of miles just before going into labor, and then huddles in a manger as there was no room in the inn to finally birth this seemingly illegitimate child  would end so happily?
Speaker#1:   Happily....? He ends up on the cross.
Speaker#2:   That's not the ending. You are forgetting what happened three days later.
Speaker#1:   Well yes...that part was happy.
Speaker#2:    And then what happens eternally to all who believe.....if that's not happy, I don't know what is!      
     
    My son Matt called late that evening, "Mom, I got a call back on the Federal Reserve internship for this summer."
    It was a day full of hopeful surprises.

Psalm 31: 4
4 Be strong and take heart,
   all you who hope in the LORD.

Unexpected Rewards

     A huge package arrived at my doorstep yesterday. It came from  Williams Sonoma. I know little about this store except it is very expensive and exclusive and I could not imagine who would be sending me an enormous gift from such a place.
     I put the box on the counter and went back to work. I had called Comer, our elderly friend at the Nursing Home earlier in the week to suggest a Christmas Lights outing. I thought his wife Evelyn, even with Alzheimers eating away at her brain, would enjoy looking for homes covered with Christmas decorations. I had already put two Christmas music CDs in the car, knowing that Evelyn might not speak, but she would sing.
     "Hello," croaked Comer, answering the phone.
     "Comer! You don't sound so good."
     "I feel awful. Thought I was going to die."
     "Oh dear! I am so sorry! What is it?"
    "Feels like some flu, or bad sinus infection.I haven't left my bed in three days."
"Oh my! Well I was calling to invite you out to look at Christmas lights this week...but maybe we should wait til next week?"
"Yes, I couldn't go anywhere this week. I feel too poorly. I am getting better. I should be fine by next week."
"I know in the past Evelyn doesn't do well at night. Do you think she would be ok if we go out in the evening but we will go as soon as the sun sets?" Evelyn, like many people afflicted with Alzheimers, would sometimes become agitated at night. At least she used to. Since moving to the new facility where Comer was just down the hall, she had been doing much better emotionally.
"Oh, I don't know. You know she never speaks at all anymore. Still sings though."
"Well I have lots of Christmas music for her to sing. Listen, why don't you check with her nurse and let me know? We could go next week if you are feeling better."
"Oh, I am sure I will be," he said.
"Well then you rest, and I will call you next week. We will get yummy food and hot chocolate and go find beautiful homes dressed up for Christmas."
"Thank you darling," he said, his voice gravelly and strained.
     I hung up and returned to my computer woes. I had developed a GoogleGroup list for the Homeschool Ski Club I was forming, and already there were problems. Half the people had not received the invitation to join the Google Group, which meant I had to go back to my inbox, find every one who had written but not joined the group and then try to find another way to add them to the Group. I had been at it for hours.
     Volunteer work just doesn't pay, I thought. I glanced at the huge Sonoma Williams box. What could that be, and who had sent it? I didn't want to spoil a Christmas surprise by opening the card, but curiosity was overcoming my hesitance. I put it under the tree and my forehead grazed the sparkling Crystal Squirrel ornament. It spun on a silver thread, little blue gems in the eyes shimmery points of color. Every year, Asherel and I go out to look for one crystal ornament to add to our tree. My tree is decorated in all crystal clear onrnaments and white lights. It is very elegant. My mom had a tree like that, and I loved the simple elegance of it, so continued that tradition in our own home. Asherel and I usually take quite a while to agree on the yearly ornament, but as soon as we saw the squirrel, we both knew this was the one we wanted.
     "It reminds me of Squirrel Nutkin!" I said happily. Nutkin was a baby squirrel that had fallen from a tree in our yard a few years ago, rescued by Lucky from the freezing rain, and then restored to health by us. Ultimately, since he was only 6 weeks old when we saved him, we brought him to a rehab specialist who released him safely to the wild when he was fully grown. Asherel and I had loved our few weeks nursing the little baby who had almost died back to health.
     "Yes, let's get that one," said Asherel.
     I smiled at my little squirrel ornament and the happy memories it evoked.Then I sobered as I looked back at the computer and rubbed my wrist.The tendonitis from all my computer work was flaring and every word I typed hurt. But I had to fix the issues with the skiing google group. I had volunteered, and like it or not, I had to follow through now. I glanced at the mysterious package under the slowly swinging crystal squirrel. I could stand the suspense no longer. I opened the card on the giant expensively wrapped box.
     "Thank you for your kindness to my parents," the card said. It was from Comer and Evelyn's daughter.

Luke 14:

¹³ But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, ¹⁴ and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
¹⁵ When one of those at the table with him heard this, he said to Jesus, “Blessed is the one who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God.”

Kindness and Paying it Forward

     The list is completely prepared with neat little boxes to check off. In one week, we get to ski! I have had an overwhelming response to my organizing the homeschool ski groups to Sugar Mountain, thus the rates are good and we can afford this otherwise impossibly pricey love of ours. 
     One friend wrote me, very concerned that I was taking on an enormous task and had no idea how inundated I would be. She offered to help me develop an online form so that people could register without me having to email back and forth to get all the info I needed. It took me all day, even with her expert help, but in the end, the form was complete. At one point, after several back and forths, the friend was ready to give up on me. I could tell. She wrote, "Maybe it would be easier for you to just send out emails." However, she stuck with me, and I did finally produce a very fine form that will help me in streamlining the process.
     Another stranger wrote, a fellow homeschooler.
"This is an enormous task you are taking on, " she warned, "Are you sure you want to do this?"
     Yet another stranger wrote and said that since she didn't ski, but would be bringing her kids, she would volunteer to hand out the ski tickets so that once I had the registration set, I could go ski myself.
Every homeschooler who emailed me asking to join the ski group list, thanked me profusely, saying that for the typical one income earning homeschool family, skiing was a sport none of them could otherwise afford. I agree. The only way we ever got involved with it was because of the kindness of some homeschool families in Asheville who organized huge groups of homeschoolers and secured group rates at the mountains. When I am done homeschooling, my skiing days will probably end...unless I become a world famous top selling writer. My suspicion is I will have to find a less expensive sport to indulge in...like knitting.
     Our ability to do this wonderful thing was due to the kindness of strangers. More and more in life, I see strangers reaching out to others. I just read in 2 Samuel where King David regains his throne and wants to offer kindness to anyone left of Saul's family when King Saul and son Jonathan are killed in battle. This is a remarkable gesture on many levels, not the least of which being I have correctly spelled the name of the person that David ends up showing kindness to (Mephibosheth!).
     Saul had been relentlessly pursuing David to kill him, out of the rage of jealousy. David evaded Saul and refused to lift a hand against the "Lord's anointed one." Mephiposheth, Jonathan's son, was crippled when his nurse dropped him, fleeing David's army. She assumed that since Saul wanted to kill David, David would want to kill any offspring of Saul or his sons.
     David instead, ends up extending kindness to Mephibosheth, the lame son of Jonathan, bringing Mephiposheth to the palace to eat at the King's table for the rest of his life. It is a beautiful picture of the grace extended to us in all our crippling sinfulness from the King of Kings. In running from God, we become crippled. Fear sometimes prevents us from returning to the author of our hope. Yet the King is willing and anxious to seek us out, to show His love and mercy, to welcome us back to His table of bounty.
    Now I am a little concerned that in my musing about skiing, and kindness, I am also imagining lame, crippled people. This is the downside of skiing. It is downright dangerous.

Genesis 21: 22-23
“God is with you in everything you do. ²³ Now swear to me here before God that you will not deal falsely with me or my children or my descendants. Show to me and the country where you now reside as a foreigner the same kindness I have shown to you.”

Advisories

There is a winter advisory for the mountains! That means snow may soon be here. I think it is awfully considerate of the weather station to offer an advisory to the snow. When snow arrives, it will be advised of all its rights: the right to peaceably assemble, the right to bear arms (and legs of skiers, but not to break them), and the right to remain silent. This is important because half the beauty of snow is its silence.

Just in case I was not harried and irritable with overwork enough as it is, I took on the effort of organizing Charlotte Homeschool Ski groups for outings to my favorite mountain in the area. I got enormous interest immediately and should have no trouble getting the minimum group number for the discount- in fact, I will probably have to limit group size so that I don't spend the whole ski day handing out tickets. I think I should parlay this into book sales. For every ski ticket purchased, skiers must also buy my book. It will be my own little winter advisory.

There is an awful lot of bad advice. It is very important to be careful whose advice you listen to. I am finishing up the book of 2 Samuel, and am once again amazed at the treachery of Absalom. He was David's son, and he plotted with his advisers to seize the kingdom from his father. In the end, Absalom was killed. Poor David mourned doubly- first the son's betrayal, and then the son's death. I cannot imagine coping with that kind of grief. I kept wishing Absalom would listen to wise counsel and turn from his evil path. He never did. There are many messages in this story, but I do think one warning is that we should choose carefully whom and what we listen to. Especially with the onslaught of information in the age of the internet, we are bombarded with conflicting views on just about every subject. I find myself reeling in indecision after considering all the viewpoints about just a simple matter like drinking juice : pros and cons. And then, like a breath of clean mountain air on a snowy slope, I open the Bible, my Spiritual Advisory. This is something I can breathe in safely,  trust in, and base my plans on.

Jeremiah 18: 17-19
¹⁷ Like a wind from the east,
   I will scatter them before their enemies;
I will show them my back and not my face
   in the day of their disaster.”
 ¹⁸ They said, “Come, let’s make plans against Jeremiah; for the teaching of the law by the priest will not cease, nor will counsel from the wise, nor the word from the prophets. So come, let’s attack him with our tongues and pay no attention to anything he says.”
 ¹⁹ Listen to me, LORD;
   hear what my accusers are saying!