Book Giveaway — Update

Posted on April 7, 2015 by Jan C. Johnson

In case you were wondering…

Ferguson Book CoverBack in October, I posted a review of the excellent book Pure Eyes, Clean Heart by Jen and Craig Ferguson. I wanted to get the news out about the book as a valuable marriage resource. Also, the publisher had sent me a copy to give away, and the post served as a chance for a reader to win this free copy.

So I wrote up my review, laid out the instructions for participating in the drawing, and sat back to see who would be chosen from among those who entered.

> crickets chirping <

Yep, I received all of Zero entries!

That’s a little embarrassing but, after some thought, I wasn’t too surprised. Two factors likely contributed to the silence:

1) Before the review, my last blog post had appeared nine weeks earlier. I had completely fallen off the “publish-a-post” map. Most of my readers, with the exception of Brent and my mother-in-law, had probably forgotten all about me.

2) A good portion of my actual readers were also in Jen’s book launch team. They saw the post, but didn’t enter the drawing because they also had free copies to give away.

That leaves the burning question:

What happened to the free copy you’d promised to give away?

I’m glad you asked. In the spirit of “not keeping a book that was provided for the sole purpose of giving it away,” I puzzled over what I could do with it that would get its hopeful message to the most people who needed it.

You’ll be happy to know that after discarding ideas such as “hand it to someone about to walk into an ‘adult bookstore,'” I ended up giving this copy to a wonderful family counselor who attends our church.

Just in case you were wondering.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

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“Real Talk” — Really.

Posted on March 31, 2015 by Jan C. Johnson

RealTalk image

“Real Talk” for Women, the flyer at church said. The evening gathering would be the first of its kind. The flyer went on,
Real Talk. Real Conversation. Real Women.

To be honest, I wasn’t optimistic. In fact, I almost didn’t attend. But our Women’s Ministry has a creative, energetic leadership team pulling together times for us to connect with each other, to build friendships. The least I could do was show up for the first meeting and give it a chance. Friendship building sounded pretty good.

That, and the flyer also mentioned dessert.

So I arrived and chatted with a few ladies I hadn’t talked to lately. Desserts in hand, we all gathered in a large circle formed by two couches and a bunch of folding chairs.

I half expected some open-ended questions, each followed by an awkward silence. (The loudest and most awkward silence, I assumed, would be by own. I’m not much for calling attention to myself.) Then maybe a handful of reluctant, brief responses to each question. Could I come up with anything impressive to say? Probably not. More awkwardness.

Did I mention I expected to feel a little awkward at this event?

Little did I know.

That evening’s facilitator shared her heart-wrenching story of a childhood marked by little love and no guidance. As she grew into an understandably dysfunctional adult, Jesus stepped in and offered to rescue her. He changed her life from the inside out.

Whoa.

We sisters started to share, people! Women opened up about the challenges they were facing, many of them things we’d normally never divulge. Too embarrassing, too shameful, too yukky…

…too much like we didn’t have every area of life completely under control. (On a side note: No one has it all together. Why do I hate to admit that I don’t, either?)

Struggling women asked for encouragement and/or advice. Those of us who had experienced similar problems shared our perspective from a bit farther down the road. No one displayed even a shred of judgment toward anyone else.

One woman, who bore especially heavy emotional burdens, became a little distraught. I found my “wallflower” self going over to kneel beside her and pray, along with a dozen other women.

“Real Talk,” indeed. No masks, no sense of awkwardness, no self-consciousness even. Just a sincere love and desire to help each other carry our loads to Jesus.

Because it’s all–everything is all–about him.

Our life was never about us, what we could do for ourselves. We are his creation, dependent on him for everything from eternal life, to meaningful careers and relationships, down to the next beat of our hearts. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.

And since Jesus already defeated death,

surely we can trust him to handle our problems.

Happy Easter!

Thanks for reading,
Jan

PS: This week I am linking up with the Soli Deo Gloria sisters over at Jen’s website. You are welcome to come “listen” in!

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Change of Season

Posted on March 24, 2015 by Jan C. Johnson

Here's the peach tree, very sensibly NOT budding during a recent snowfall.

Here’s the peach tree, very sensibly NOT budding during a recent snowfall.

Spring is coming to North Texas. ‘Bout time, many of us would say. We thought we’d never get rid of the snow, ice, cold wind, and sleet.

A few weeks ago, between snowfalls, the ice cleared off just enough for Brent to get to work. Another hard freeze was forecast for that night. After lunch I looked out my window and noticed that the formerly all-grey peach tree had developed a deep pink glow.

I panicked and emailed Brent:

ME: GAAAAH! I just took a look at the peach tree. It’s covered with partly-opened FLOWERS. NOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo!!!

BRENT: WHAT???! What is it thinking??!!! You’re standing out there all night with two hair blowers! (He says hair blowers just to bug me.)

ME: Au contraire. Since I correctly refer to them as hair dryers, it looks like YOU will be standing out there with your “hair blowers.”

Then I went outside to look at the tree close up, and found the flower buds had not actually opened. Whew! Dodged that bullet.


Sure enough, the overnight temperature dropped into the 20s. Then we warmed up into the 40s, with no frost in the forecast the next few days.

This was almost mid-March, just past the date of the “average last frost.” Of course we weren’t out of the woods yet. “Average last” frost isn’t the same at “Last date you need to worry about” frost.

But the winds turned south, the sun came out for a day or two, and then we got a nice wet-but-warm streak. All the rain and mild temps woke up the buds for sure.

I took this latest photo of the tree on a recent foggy morning.

Barring a really, really late freeze, we might just have another bumper crop this year. But I’ll dig out from under that when the time comes.

Meanwhile, I’m so thankful that no matter how cold and slushy and leafless the outdoors becomes in winter, a change of season always waits just around the next corner.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

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Condiment Conflict

Posted on March 17, 2015 by Jan C. Johnson

My husband, Brent, and I are usually pretty compatible. We both like reading, bicycling and ice cream. We enjoy the same music. I like to cook, he likes to eat. (Okay, so do I.) Sometimes we even agree on the best toppings for certain foods.

But not always…

Oatmeal: We agree on brown sugar. Fruit is optional.

French fries: We agree on ketchup.

Fish sticks: I may use a little ketchup but can take it or leave it, while Brent uses ketchup every time. Not that we eat fish sticks since the kids are grown.

Baked potatoes: We agree that butter, salt and sour cream are essential. Brent also likes to add grated cheese, which I don’t care for but fully support. See how reasonable I am?

Sweet potato fries: These clearly need NO condiments, as they are already seasoned with cracked black pepper and sea salt. But Brent makes the association “fries = ketchup” and so puts ketchup on them.

Tortilla-crusted tilapia: These also need no topping. I mean, they’re coated with yummy crunchy tortilla dust crumbs, flavored with lime and cilantro. Brent, however, associates “fish = fish sticks = ketchup.” Bleah. I would feel a teeny bit insulted if this were a made-from-scratch dish rather than a Costco baked-from-frozen entree.

Last week I made a magnificent Quiche Lorraine, complete with Swiss cheese, bacon and onion. In a fit of healthiness I added fresh spinach and some mushroom slices. The crust was a tender, flaky dream pastry made from scratch, using the cuss-proof (it’s that easy!) recipe Brent’s cousin gave me years ago.

When the filling was done and the top perfectly browned I pulled the pie plate from the oven and let it cool just enough. Our table looked lovely — perfect slices of quiche nestled beside colorful tossed salad. Iced tea in sparkling glasses. We sat down and gave thanks, then Brent got up again.

“I already set out the salad dressing,” I pointed out helpfully.

“That’s not what I need,” he said.

I was still chewing my first bite when Brent came back and set a condiment down on the table. Balsamic vinegar? Parmesan cheese, maybe? Surely it was something worthy of such a perfect, succulent home-crafted entree.

I looked at the label.

It wasn’t balsamic vinegar.

It wasn’t Parmesan cheese.

I might have turned a little pale as Brent removed the lid and shook the bottle over his quiche.

Finally I was able to speak. “You’re using Butt Burnin’ Hot Sauce from Fuzzy’s Tacos?”

“Well yeah.”

“On Quiche Lorraine?”

“Sure.”

I give up.

But really, is it any skin off my nose if he tops a food with something I wouldn’t use? I once stood in front of our families and friends and promised to love Brent for richer, for poorer… in sickness, and in health… with ketchup and with quiche… or something.

So, bon appetit, Sweetie. And if you want pickles or strawberry preserves on your roast beef, I’ll get you some from the fridge.

Thanks for reading,
Jan

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Snowbirds

Posted on March 10, 2015 by Jan C. Johnson

Dang. Overnight lows in the low 20s last week, again. And after raining all day, turning to sleet turning to snow?

Cancel my reservation for that class at the gym.

Unfortunately, sitting around on my chilly rear with mug after mug of hot cocoa doesn’t contribute nearly as much to overall fitness as does a good, strenuous workout.

Brent, never deterred for long, pulled out our “Tucson Training Rides” DVD and plugged it in the spare room video player for a virtual ride in the Arizona desert. (This is a long-standing winter riding alternative, as I’ve described before.)

We turned down the heat, turned on the fan and hopped on our bikes to follow “Coach Troy.” The coach took us through a flat area for a warm-up period plagued only by heavy motor traffic. Then it was time to turn onto Gates Pass Road west of Tucson. Setting our gears for high resistance, we “climbed” up and up, laboring toward the top of the pass. Brent has ridden Gates Pass before, most recently in 2009.

“I like this video. Look, the sun is shining,” Brent said. I agreed despite the virtual cars that still passed us.

I grew hot and tired but didn’t even care because the gorgeous, familiar scenery so distracted me. The camera took us up hills and around curves, passing ocotillo, cholla and saguaros. Those weird-but-lovable plants made me downright homesick, even though we only lived in Arizona for eight years, back in the day.

“This road is sure nice,” I pointed out with a wistful sigh. Brent agreed.

The virtual road climbed more steeply. We stood out of the saddle for half a minute, both to increase heart rate and rest our rears. Finally we crested the pass, then the road tilted down. We shifted to easy gears to mimic a steep descent.

I checked my bike computer. “I’m pedaling at 130 RPM,” I bragged.

“Nice,” Brent said. “If we were really at Gates Pass we’d be going over 40 miles per hour about now.”

Before long we were enjoying rolling terrain near the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum. Motor traffic had dropped to nothing.

“If we lived in Tucson we could actually be riding out on this road,” I observed, “instead of hiding from a lot of snow and ice.” Brent agreed.

Neither of us talked much during the ridiculously steep climb back up Gates Pass. Several minutes and two out-of-the-saddle intervals later, we were flying back down the pass in easy gears.

“Let’s move to Tucson,” Brent said. Of course he was joking– at least, partly joking. A cross-country move wouldn’t fit into our lives right now, so forget it.

Two days later the sun finally came out. That virtual desert ride, along with a little dreaming, had provided the sanity break we needed to see us through cabin fever.

Do you ever have to “hunker down” for a long lesson in patience? What helps you cope? Tell me your tips in the comment space at the bottom of this post!

Thanks for reading!
Tailwinds,
Jan

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A Reputation Not Your Own

Posted on March 3, 2015 by Jan C. Johnson

“Grow up!”

Back in the first century, the apostle Paul wrote a really long letter to the church in Corinth. If I had to sum up the sixteen chapters in two words, I’d say he was telling them to Grow Up. He addressed a variety of specific errors the church was making, but many of them involved conflict between church members. Between brothers and sisters, as it were.

Poor Paul. It seems he had to tell churches to stop squabbling almost as much as I did my kids. I’ve talked before about one such apostolic chew-out.

Tarnish: It's ugly, folks.

Tarnish: It’s ugly, folks.

In chapter 6 of this letter, Paul addresses the folly of asking the secular court to judge grievances between believers –“saints,” as Christ-followers are also known. I can hear the exasperation in his voice: “Do you not know that the saints will judge the world? And if the world is to be judged by you, are you incompetent to try trivial cases?” (verse 2).

He goes on to show that even having angry civil disputes already constitutes defeat for the brothers. Partly because one believer is wronging another. But I think the greater defeat lies in the combatants not acting like Jesus’ followers. I mean, if we believers don’t show each other a little grace and unconditional love, how will a lost world know we are Jesus’ disciples?

Worse, if we publicly claim to follow Christ and then defraud and fight with each other, we risk giving Jesus a bad name in the eyes of the watching world. See, if I act like a jerk, I’ll tarnish my own reputation. But if I go around telling everyone I follow Jesus, and then act like a jerk, some people are bound to reject Jesus because of me. I will have put myself in the unenviable position of damaging someone else’s reputation along with my own.

As near as I can figure, tarnishing the perfect reputation of God’s son is part of what God meant when he said, “You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.”

It is worth noting that none of this is Jesus’ fault. He told us and told us to love each other.

If you’re a believer rescued by Jesus, can we agree to give his reputation a higher priority than merely having our own way?

Besides, showing love for other people is just flat-out more fun.

I welcome your comments–there’s space for you at the bottom of this post!

Thanks for reading,
Jan

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