Piano Dreams

No, I don't want a new piano. Now that I've finally gotten it tuned, I'm perfectly happy with the one I have. What I do want is the skill to play it.

I can read music, and I know which notes on the paper belong to which keys on the piano, but my brain doesn't move quickly enough when matching the two and sending its messages to my fingers. Worse, with age and lack of exercise, my fingers have lost what little dexterity they had.

When I was growing up, my mother gave my brothers and me piano lessons. Unfortunately, there were two problems. First, Mama's teaching job kept her busy during the school year, so we only received lessons in the summer. And with my aversion to practicing, my progress was always two steps forward, one step back. (Or, more accurately, two baby steps forward, one giant step back.)

The second problem was that I had no one to impress. My mother was, after all, my mother, and she was going to love me no matter how well I played. Our church organist gave lessons, and I wonder if I would have been more motivated learning from her.

I like music and have always regretted that I slacked off when I had a chance to become an adequate pianist. I'm not talking Carnegie Hall, here, but it would be nice to sit down and play hymns correctly the first time through (or even the second or third or fourth . . .).

As a child, knowing how to play appealed to me, but practicing didn't. And although I probably had a sneaking suspicion that the first required the second, I didn't have a strong enough desire for the first to do the second. If I could have seen into the future, would it have changed things?

Probably not. I was a child, and I thought as a child.

So now that I'm an adult, I play easy pieces to please my ear and maybe to entertain people who won't recognize how simple they are. And I practice slightly harder ones when no one is around to hear my mistakes and the pauses that aren't written into the music. Oh to have my lost opportunities back.

And not to waste the ones still ahead.

Do you regret lost dreams? Leave a comment and tell me about them.

Struggling Through Love 101

I spent my Valentine's Day thinking about the meaning of love. Not erotic feelings or even the experience of being "in love," but the I Corinthians 13 type. Paul says, "Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things." (I Corinthians 13:4-7, ESV)

If I Corinthians 13 was a grading rubric, I'd flunk the course. We all would, because God is the only one who can live up to that standard. Fortunately, it isn't a required class for those who get their degree from Grace University. Okay, maybe that's a lousy analogy, but it was worth a shot . . .

My love is often selfish, and I can hold onto resentments for years. And there have been times in my life when I could truly say I hated someone. But I know those actions make God sad, just as my children's behavior could (and still can) make me sad.

I don't want to make God sad, so I try to follow His rules. Not because I have to, but because I want to. Or, to continue the bad analogy, I'm struggling through the I Corinthians 13 class because I know God wants me to take it.

The coursework includes love for friends as well as for family and everyone else. Although I've kept up with some old classmates and am trying to reconnect with others, I'm not good at maintaining long-distance relationships. One of my college friends with whom I exchange Christmas letters has gone through some hard times in her marriage. And although I tell her I'm praying for her (and do pray for her immediately after receiving the latest Christmas letter), I have never offered to be her sounding board. She may not need one, but what if she does? It's time to get out her address and send an unscheduled letter.

I want to make the same offer to the rest of my friends. I've always been a good listener, and sometimes listening is the best thing a friend can do. Not give advice, not spout Bible verses, and certainly not condemn. Just love and listen.

So if you need that kind of friend, I'm here.

We'll Name It "Das Luftschloss"

My husband and I give our sailboats German names. The first was Zeltlagermanie ("Camp mania"), and our second (and current) is Freizeit ("free time"). And yes, that is Freizeit in the blog header.

We went to the Strictly Sail show just over a week ago and found our third boat: a Beneteau 37. I fell in love with a vanity table that would make a perfect laptop desk for my writing, and Roland fell in love with the location of the raw-water impeller. (The raw-water impeller pumps water through the engine to keep it cool. It needs to be replaced once a year, and Freizeit's impeller is almost impossible to get to, especially if it should fail while we're out on the water.) It's amazing how much the little things contribute to falling in love.

I also have a name for our new Beneteau 37: Das Luftschloss ("air castle"). That's because, at almost $200,000, it is just a pipe dream. Still, there's nothing wrong with building castles in the air if you are realistic about your chances of lowering them onto solid ground. Maybe when my book hits the New York Times' bestseller list . . .

It takes an active imagination to write Romeo and Juliet, to create a country like Narnia, to invent the flying machine, and to find a cure for polio. So dreams can be good things to have. (Okay, so maybe a new sailboat isn't quite as noble a quest, but bear with me here.)

Dreams can be counterproductive if they get in the way of more important matters, such as faith, family, and friends and neighbors (in the broadest sense). I would rather lose the dream than have to name the boat Das Idol. (I'll let you figure that one out.)

Until then, I'll continue building castles in the air.

Superwoman Can't Fly

Thursday night I attended my first Toastmasters Club meeting. One of the presentations was a humorous one-man skit



called "Superman Can't Fly," in which the speaker revisited a scene from his childhood. As a nine-year-old, he donned a Superman cape that he believed would make him fly, jumped off a picnic table, and (you guessed it) fell flat on his face. He had discovered that superman (with a small s) can't fly.

Neither can superwoman.

When I was younger, I had a low self-image. I wasn't pretty or popular, and I stunk at sports. I'm convinced the only reason I didn't fail physical education was because the teacher took pity on my efforts. And my academic performance (which put me near the top of my class) was just a minor achievement in my eyes because my brothers' grades were even better.

Then I went to law school and learned that the secret to excelling was to discover what I did well and put my energies there. As my law career gave me confidence, my low self-esteem turned into pride. Somewhere along the way I forgot that everyone has different strengths and that we are all equal when looking at the bigger picture.

This has been a frustrating week as I dealt with other people's mistakes in areas where I excel. My ego kept telling me I would have done it right, and I would have. But my pride turns "I would have done a better job on this particular task" into "I'm better." And I'm not.

It would do my ego good to remember that I would still be a coach's nightmare as a player (although I'm a good spectator). And that my drawing is so bad that you wouldn't even recognize the human form if I didn't use stick figures.

The old adage says that pride goes before a fall. I haven't taken a tumble yet this week, but I'm waiting for it.

Because sometimes I need to be reminded that superwoman can't fly.

Brand Required

I've never been a cow seared by a branding iron, but I have lived through a branding project at my company, and it's painful.

When I left the business world for full-time writing, I thought my branding days were over. I was twice wrong. First, writing is also a business, so I haven't left that world. Second, even writers need brands.

This second truth hit home when I started developing brochures to advertise speaking services to complement my writing. How could I make an impression that would convince people who hire speakers to choose me over someone else?

My problem is simple: I have multiple personalities, and trying to find one tag line to cover them all seems impossible. I got around it (sort of) for the brochures because I made separate ones for each audience. For Christian women's groups, I came up with "Caffeine for the Soul: women's group talks that wake up and energize your walk with God." For writers' groups, it became "Caffeine for the Writer's Soul: workshops and classes to energize the writing life." But for school groups and civic and legal groups, I'm stuck with the boring and undistinguishing "author and speaker."

Now I'm beginning the process of updating my web site, and I need a brand to draw people in. (No, I'm not giving you the address yet. If I was happy with the current version, why would I hire a professional web designer?) Since the new and improved site will cover all of my writing and speaking activities, I need a universal slogan.

When I started this blog, I did try to come up with an all-inclusive tag line that would distinguish me from the crowd. But as you can see from the header, I gave up.

As I said, the problem arises from my multiple personalities. The lawyer in me writes and speaks about the First Amendment religion clauses and about legal issues of special interest to writers. The Christian wife and mother is more interested in encouraging other Christian women. The heart (yes, I do have one) wants her writing to demonstrate Christian love for sinners, while the head wants to make it clear that moral standards do not change with the times. The creative soul wants to craft a story you can't put down. And the driven writer wants to do it all.

At this point, my tag line is "help!" Any better ideas?

The Country Celebrates My Birthday

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." Martin Luther King, Jr., Strength to Love, 1963

People who have never heard of me consider my birthday a holiday.

Or a memorial.

That's because I was born on January 15, twenty-two years after Martin Luther King, Jr. (He would have been 81 this past Friday.)

Growing up in a small town in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, I didn't pay much attention to the Civil Rights Movement. Then, between my sophmore and junior years of high school, we moved to the Lower Peninsula. I still lived in a small town, and we were 200 miles from Detroit. But my growing interest in what was going on in the world and the fact that I was now closer to towns with black population centers brought the issues into focus. Dr. King's non-violence stance and stirring speeches inspired me as much as the 1967 Detroit riots frightened me.

Then came April 4, 1968. I don't remember where I was, as I do for President Kennedy's assassination, but I do know that a voice of reason died that day. No, that isn't true. The man behind the voice died, but the voice itself lives on, and so does Dr. King's legacy.

I searched the Internet for quotes and found a number of great ones, from the profound to the humorous. My favorite is the one that begins this post, but here are some others for you to mull over this week.

"I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear."

"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."

"He who passively accepts evil is as much involved in it as he who helps to perpetuate it. He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it."

"The hottest place in Hell is reserved for those who remain neutral in times of great moral conflict."

"The church must be reminded that is is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state. It must be the guide and the critic of the state, and never its tool. If the church does not recapture its prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority."

"The first question which the priest and the Levite asked was: 'If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?' . . . The good Samaritan reversed the question: 'If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?'"

"It may be true that the law cannot make a man love me, but it can keep him from lynching me, and I think that's pretty important."

May Dr. King's legacy live on.

Still on the Straight and Narrow

No, that isn’t me behind those bars.

For those of you who read my first post, I haven’t started a Ponzi scheme yet. And I pray I will never have the urge to do so.

That’s because I’m a Christian, and I take my faith seriously.

Some of you may wonder, “if her faith is important to her, why didn’t she mention it in her first post?”

I left it out intentionally.

My faith comes first, even before my family. (Although if God asked me to give them up for Him, I’m sure I’d argue with Him at first or delude myself that it wasn’t His voice I was hearing. But let’s hope it never comes to that.) However, I don’t want non-Christians to come to my blog and decide they don’t belong here. Making my Christianity too up-front could discourage readers who are not committed Christians (or, or as some of you may describe us, Christians who should be committed). I’m not writing this blog for Christians. I am writing it for you, Christian or not.

If I have an impact on your life, I want it to be because you see Christ in me, not because I’m cramming my beliefs down your throat.

That is also my writing philosophy. I write from a Christian viewpoint but with a heart for all readers. My first (and so far only) published book is In God We Trust: How the Supreme Court’s First Amendment Decisions Affect Organized Religion (FaithWalk Publishing, 2006). As the title suggests, it looks at an issue of special interest to Christians, but it is of equal interest to practicing Jews, Muslims, and even acknowledged atheists. And the position the book takes is not uniquely Christian—in fact, it tries to just give you the facts and not take a position at all.

The novels I am currently working on follow a similar approach. While they are written for a primarily Christian audience and do employ a Christian worldview, my goal is to tell a story you can’t put down.

So Christian or not, I hope you’ll come along for the ride.