by Victoria -

New Adventures

I’m in a novel reading obsession again, learning about boudin and beignets and crawfish boils. Because I love reading authors who know how to set a mood and are masters at imagery, I’ve been enjoying James Lee Burke’s Dave Robicheaux novel series. I’ve read them before, so this time around I’m noticing more detail about the interesting people and unique setting he chose for these memorable stories.

Most of this series is set in Louisiana – New Orleans and New Iberia in particular – and he often describes the local food and appetites of his colorful cast of characters in detail. He’s one of the few authors I’ve read who can write dialogue with excellence. I didn’t know what boudin was, so I looked it up. That clinched it – I had to try some out.

One of my 2019 New Year’s resolutions is to do something new every month. As an old homebody by nature and nurture, I can become tightly entrenched in a rut of my own making. When I told Storm, my youngest son, my ‘new thing’ for this past June was to watch all 5 seasons of Leverage (which I accomplished, thank you very much!), he was not impressed.

So, because of his disappointment in his momma, I went online and found a Cajun restaurant close by my home, drove myself there (the whole 2 miles or so), and enjoyed some boudin and a crawfish cake Sunday after church. To make it more authentic, I took my Burke novel with me and read it while I ate.

I must say, the boudin balls were good – not as flavorful as I anticipated after watching a youtube video on how to prepare them, but the crawfish cake was excellent – the sauce was wonderful and the presentation was nice, too. In my inexperienced opinion, the ratio of rice to pork and other ingredients was too high. White rice doesn’t have much flavor on its own, so it’s a good thing the dipping sauce was full of zing.

My server was efficient, but I wasn’t very successful at getting her to smile or interact much with me. I think she was a girl. But I’m not positive. She might have been identifying as a boy, but the way people present themselves to the world by the way they dress and do their hair nowadays I’m not quite sure. I was considered a tomboy growing up (I know, old-fashioned term) but I never forgot I was a girl. I roughhoused with the boys, but when it was all said and done, a girl I was and have always been. And I like being a girl. Each gender has its advantages and disadvantages. That’s why we complement each other so well. Guys are good at certain things and girls are good at other things. It’s worked fine for many centuries. I don’t know why it’s suddenly bad. It’s as if today’s modern society has evolved to the point they believe they know more than God. Sad, indeed.

My server seemed inwardly unhappy or discontent, I’m not sure which, or both. When I see that in someone, it usually stirs up some inner desire in me to make them smile. I’d like to help make their day nicer. I asked her opinion on what was good and thanked her for her help.

I recently experienced the suicide of a friend who was struggling with depression I wasn’t aware of, so my spidey senses are heightened right now. I read some statistics about transgender people who have more tendencies toward depression and suicide, so when I noticed my server was not your typical smiling waitress/waiter, it kicked my maternal instincts into high gear.

Hopefully, I was able to accomplish making her less unhappy, if even in a small measure. I did give her a good tip, so I’m sure that helped.

For my next month’s new adventure, I think I’ll go for a helicopter tour. Yep. Sounds about right.

What new thing are you doing?

by Victoria -

Keeping on keeping on – perseverance in the journey

This is an excerpt from my upcoming book, and post 17 of week 17.   I am always amazed at God’s patience with his children as we stumble through life.  I’m so glad he never gives up on us.

We come from places of deep brokenness, and God is not hindered in making us into beautiful jewels.

The following stories are important truths God showed me over a period of years when I had been wandering in a wilderness of disappointment and discouragement for most of my adult life. I had two failed marriages to my name and, being a Christian, divorce had never been an option before. My life fell apart not once, but twice. A lot of re-thinking happened during that time. And a lot of healing.

Satan had convinced me for many years that I was not enough. I wasn’t good enough. I didn’t do enough. I had too many character flaws. I was too prickly and too aloof. I can still hear my mom saying to me when I was a child, “left-handed people can’t do nothing right.” Those words still hurt to this day.

Then my first husband made sure I understood I was nothing on my own, and that everything I had was only because of him. And since my mom had told me over and over I couldn’t do anything right, I believed him.

Then my second husband always told me I was prickly and cold. And I believed him as well.

I was not enough. I had never been enough.

Enter, God.

It was during my second divorce that God providentially placed me in Arizona where I lived all alone for four years. I was born and raised in Michigan and was happy to leave not just the cold weather and gray skies, but the level of stress that was killing me.

That self-imposed isolation was crucial to my growth and healing. God took the time to gently teach me something so powerful that it upended everything I had believed up to then. I was his special treasure, cherished, and beloved. No one had ever made me feel that way before. It was a brand-new experience and I soaked it up. Those years in Arizona changed my life. My heart is still there.

This is what I learned: I am enough. I have always been enough.

After four years I ended up back in Michigan, living in my parents’ basement and helping my dad care for my mom after she was diagnosed with dementia, where a whole host of new lessons were learned.

Then God spirited me away to Florida, where the lessons have continued.

As you read these short stories of perseverance and endurance, I hope they’ll be as encouraging to you as learning the lessons were to me.

They aren’t necessarily chronological, and I’ve had to re-learn some lessons over and over, so don’t feel discouraged when it happens to you.

One of the wonderful things about our Heavenly Father is that he’s patient with us, like a shepherd with his sheep.

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)

He carefully watches over us and searches for us when we wander off, lovingly bringing us back to the flock. He doesn’t abandon us to our fate – he comes and finds us, rescuing us from the consequences of our own actions. He lovingly binds up our wounds making sure we’re going to be ok.

That’s the kind of God worth living for.

by Victoria -

What introverts need to know

Back to my one post per week cycle.  If you haven’t done so yet, please read about my Arizona journey – I wrote one blog post per day for a week.  Now that I’m back home in Florida, it’s time to get in the groove.  This is post 16 of week 16.

For those who’ve known me for a while, they understand I’m an introvert. If you’ve read much of my blog, I’ll bet you’ve picked up on it, too.

Being an introvert means I prefer my own company. It means I’m just fine being by myself most of the time. It means I avoid groups like the plague.

It also means I’m an HSP – highly sensitive person. I feel and absorb others’ emotions and it gets overwhelming. Hence, the need for solitude to re-group and re-charge.

Some years ago, God put me in sales. Yes, he did. I cried and I begged, but to no avail. Sales is where God wanted me and that’s where I am to this day. Out of desperation and a need to survive, I learned how to sell things by using words. I became good at sales by learning how to connect with my customers. My HSP has come in handy many times over.

I also began to write. It’s cathartic for me and a way to put my thoughts and deepest feelings into words that I, many times, am not able to say out loud. And in order to get better at writing, I began to write articles for newspapers and magazines. In order to do that, however, I needed to conduct interviews with real live people.

A funny thing happened. I got to know all kinds of wonderful people. I wrote articles about recovering addicts and foster families and charitable organizations and rehab centers. I wrote articles about healing from sickness and mission trips and deliverance from a hurricane.

As I interviewed these extraordinary folks, I became connected to them and them to me. I learned about their fears and pain, aspirations and dreams. I learned about their failures and victories. Their stories became a part of me.

I saw one of my story-people today and it was like meeting a long-lost friend. We hugged and made plans to get together. We share something special because I know her in a way most don’t. And I value that knowledge and connection. I feel the same about each and every one of my story-people. They have made me a richer person because of our brief time together.

As an introvert I struggle with feeling inadequate. Over the years there’ve been many instances where I felt so unable to help others in ways many of my friends do on a regular basis. I tend to hide from emotion because it’s scary and I don’t feel in control of the situation. My help is, quite often, given long-distance. Too much emotion sucks the life out of me. I care, but I can’t allow myself to care too deeply for very long.

Sitting at my computer, typing on my keyboard, I feel safe.

But this funny thing happened. It finally occurred to me that God, in making me an introvert, not only knew what he was doing, but planned it on purpose. My way of helping others is just fine with him. As a matter of fact, that’s exactly how he wants me to serve others.

Let me explain. When I write your story and it’s published in a newspaper or magazine, the readers of that publication get to know you, too. Your story touches them in just the way God wanted it to happen. Ripples of eternity begin the moment I hit the ‘send’ button on my email and your story starts its irreversible path of destiny.

My part in the story is short and temporary. But my part is essential, nonetheless.

We all have our roles to play. Never feel like you’re not good enough. As that little boy so many years ago said, ‘God don’t make no junk.’ He designed you with love for a specific purpose. I encourage you to go on an adventure and find out just what that is.