Tag: significance

Kimly's · Kimly's Trade

I’m Back! I think.

Jacquelyn Sill2 Comments

I don’t know entirely what the hell happened between me and blogging, but after a long break-up, we’re talking about getting back together. In many ways, this is the conversation; I’m having it with the keyboard and I’m having it with you.

Honestly, this is all pouring out of me so quickly, maybe I’ll give you a little background.

Earlier this week, my publisher contacted me about rewriting my already published novel, Where the Water Rages, so that they could sell the rights to a larger book distributor, where it could be marketed it to a wider audience. The larger distributor had read the novel and emailed a review, which included changes that needed to be made so that the story would appeal to more people. Some of the changes made me laugh, and I was able to distance myself from work that I did so many years ago. During which time my library grew, and I had the opportunity to have many talented professors and academic peers speak into my writing. So, when I heard that they thought Kimly was unbelievable—too impulsive, it made me smile a defeated grin. Kimly was penned, nine years ago, by a woman who herself was impulsive and made reckless decisions, often getting in over her head. Broken pieces of me pierce through that manuscript and some of them are fraught with inconsistencies. To put it more bluntly, I was a hot mess, trying to work out my shit. This, of course, is not a reason to disregard the editorial recommendation. Maybe Kimly does need a face lift. The top two comments about Kimly are one: that people find her annoying, and two: she reminds them of me. Hmmm…how odd. Hearing now that the woman with whom I can relate, doesn’t seem like a real person sends my little Enneagram 4 heart onto a rollercoaster of introspection.

So, yes, I would be willing to work with editors and make Kimly more likable. If there is an opportunity for me to grow as a writer and to learn how to be more relatable to people, sign me up!

But, wait, there’s more.

And this is where I get agitated.

I start to remember why I felt pressure to be creating something. Making something, churning something out. Churn. Churn. Churn churn church churn church. Churn Church…work for it, work for it…earn it…deserve it.

The change that the bigger book distributor recommended ((SPOILERS)) was that the romance between Kimly and Dak be made more intense, and possibly that their relationship lands differently at the end of the book. In other words, Kimly needs to fuck Dak and leave her cheating husband. Hmm. Do I want to write that story? I didn’t then, Praise God.

The next non-negotiable idea they suggested to increase sales was to have Kimly do something significant by the end of the story. As they put it, quoting my publisher reading their email, “readers feel cheated watching Kimly go through all of these experiences, but at the end, she doesn’t even write a ground-breaking editorial piece. She only saves one child.”

Wow.

For a long time, I felt so much pressure to do something significant. The feeling runs deep and goes back far, and I’ve done a lot of work to break it down and understand it. But as for writing, as I remember it, I was feeling pressure to stand apart, to be excellent at something and it emerged with the digital age. This need grew inside of me. A need to have a lot of followers, a bigger team, a best seller. To do something big within this new digital world. The idea of just being a kind human living a simple life was out there, but I didn’t know how to make it what I wanted. I wanted to want it.

And then I did.

And so did Kimly. She just did it before me.

So when the bigger book distributor suggests I write a Hollywood ending, my answer is a firm, maybe.

I mean…I am writing again, and if a woman emerges who gets the guy, cracks the case, and sells a truckload of books, then, by all means, she is welcome to the story! But as for Kimly, no.

Kimly went on a search for significance, where she met a man that made her question what she had within her marriage, she saw the love she could have for a child, and she discovered how deeply God loved her and the places he would go to save her. Kimly realized that the most significant thing she could do was to be involved in her marriage to make it work, to become a more attentive mother, and to care for the person directly in front of her. She didn’t write the big editorial piece because that is not what this particular fable is about.

Anyway, all of this to ask, does anyone read blogs anymore? Just wondering if it’s worth my time.

I Beg Your Pardon, I Never Promised You a Pumpkin Garden
spiritual growth · Uncategorized

I Beg Your Pardon, I Never Promised You a Pumpkin Garden

Jacquelyn Sill1 Comment

So Fall is here, technically it arrived about a week ago, but for those of us who don’t have an alarm on our phones alerting us to its arrival on September 22, the season doesn’t arrive until the calendar flips to the month with the orange lettering. There are some things you should just wait for. Like Fall. And Christmas. And God’s promises to be fulfilled when it seems like maybe He has forgotten you, and you are sitting in the waiting room, and you begin to wonder if God left the building with a friend for a round of golf and a craft beer.

Psalm 27:13-14 has become a poignant verse for my husband and me over this year and last. It talks about waiting:

“I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living! Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!”

Photo_6The verse was quoted to my husband and I when we met with the senior pastor of a large church in California following the announcement of my affair and the firing of my husband from his ministerial position. We went to the home of this pastor seeking advice and encouragement at one of the scariest times in our marriage. (Not, THE scariest time in our marriage…just one of them. Trust me, affairs may be bad news but, now that we are a little further away from it, my husband and I would both contest that burying our 19-month-old little girl was far more frightening).

When Pastor Chuck first said the verse I had images congruent with the TV show, The Walking Dead. My mind didn’t capture “the land of the living” without also imagining “the land of the no longer living”. My eyes rose from my sweaty glass of ice water, and looked across the sunny patio with a quizzical grimace. Pastor Chuck responded to the unspoken inquiry explaining that to see God’s goodness in the land of the living meant that we wouldn’t have to wait until we arrived in Heaven to see how God would use our terrible situation for good. We didn’t have to wait until the afterlife to have an understanding that everything was going to be okay. If we could be strong, wait for the Lord, and trust in His promises, we would see the hand of God and witness the unfolding of His plans while we were still alive on planet Earth.

This morning I happened across another verse that spoke of God’s promises:

“And because of His glory and excellence, he has given us great and precious promises.” 2 Peter 1:4

Photo_4He has given us precious promises. Wow. That lovely truth started my mind spinning to the variety of places claiming God’s promises. I remember hearing a hymn instructing me to stand on the promises of God. I’ve read where Corrie Ten Boom said “Let God’s promises shine on your problems”. And I once saw a really pretty meme with a sunset and a barn that said “God’s promises are like the stars; the darker the night the brighter they shine.” It has to be true if it has a sunset and barn, right?

But aside from accepting that God’s promises are true, my real question was, “What are His promises?” Because if I am waiting for something, I want to know what it looks like.

Photo_2As I began to pray, one thing became clear. I could see with clarity all the promises that are not from God. He never promised a lot of things that I hope for. God never promised that my vitamins would absorb, that the dog’s vet bill would be less than I made in tips last night, or that my hair color would last. He never promised that I wouldn’t need two new tires when it’s most inconvenient, or that Bank of America would wave their policies for loan approval. God didn’t promise that that your child’s self esteem would be high, or your interest rates low. He didn’t promise that your Mother-in-Law would be kind, that your neighbors would be friendly, or that you would conceive a child. He didn’t promise that our jobs would be fulfilling, that we would be cancer free, or that babies wouldn’t die. God never promised that there wouldn’t continue to be wrongful executions. He didn’t promise that slavery would end. He didn’t promise that we would no longer see injustice in our homes, our work places, our country and our world. He didn’t promise a lot of things I hope for.

PhotoSo what did he promise?

God promised that on our very worst day, He would be at His very best to conquer the demons who work to depress and diminish our spirits. God promised power to the weak and rest for the weary. He promised we would soar like eagles, not because our situation would change, but because our souls could be free.

And why should I care?

Because ultimately our desires sit on two different lists. The first set is the list of things that will show me and others that I’ve lived a righteous life. It can look material for some, but it’s not just about accumulating cars and houses. This is the list where you have a purpose in your job. It’s the list where you make a difference because you are using your gift; where the free will of others is significantly impacted by your influence. It’s the list where justice wins, sickness vanishes, and evil is revealed. It’s a good list, desirable indeed. The second list is what God does when those things don’t happen. It’s repetitive, but here goes: it’s finding peace and allowing things to be well with your soul when none of the things on the first list are happening.

Photo_1We are dependent on the second list because that is God’s promise. While the first list is glorious and certainly full of things I wouldn’t turn away, do you realize what happens when we have the first list without the second? If we were to receive all the things that we think we want, and not be clinging to God’s promise to sustain us when problems come knocking, do you know what we’d be? We would be a bunch of middle class Americans whining about all the other promises that were not fulfilled. In other words, to have the first set of promises fulfilled takes us exactly where we are today.

But why can’t I have both?

Because you’d stop caring about the second list. God knows us. And He knows what we can handle and what we cannot. And in as much as we believe that we were made to do great things, God knows that there are greater things than the achievements of man. The peace you find in Him pleases Him. Oh, you’ll still do great things, it just might be measured differently than you imagined. That’s a promise.

My Favorite Shoes I Barely Wore
Community · Kimly's Trade · Uncategorized

My Favorite Shoes I Barely Wore

Jacquelyn Sill4 Comments

wordsWhen I was fourteen-years-old I joined my High School’s Track Team. Impressing my classmates with my agile Kenyan-like abilities, I won the team’s MVP award and garnished the nickname “Jackrabbit Jackie” for my hare-footed speed. Okay, well maybe that’s not altogether accurate. What actually happened might have fewer accolades.

During the spring semester of my freshman year, the extra curricular activity “Drill Team” was no longer considered a viable class in meeting my High School’s Physical Education requirements. In order for my fellow flag twirlers and me to meet our needed PE requirements, we either had to enroll in a traditional PE class, or we had to “go out” for Track and Field. After a conversation with Coach Monroe, a grandfatherly man whose gentle nature sits firm and soft on the bleachers of my memory, I decided to join the Track Team.

Coach Monroe needed runners to participate in a multitude of events, and he confidently suggested two in which he felt I would excel. The first was the 800 meter run. 800 meters is two laps around the track. TWO LAPS…without stopping. I’m sorry, but that’s a long way to run without an axe murderer chasing you.

The second event in which he convinced the team’s novice runner to participate was the Hurdles. Wikipedia describes hurdling this way,

The act of running and jumping over an obstacle at speed. A series of barriers known as hurdles are set at precisely measured heights and distance in which each athlete must pass by running over. Accidental knocking over of hurdles is not cause for disqualification, but is disadvantageous.

On one afternoon, Coach Monroe, who undoubtedly received his Masters Degree in Manipulation, managed to convince this newcomer that she should run in one event demanding endurance and a second event requiring agility in speedily skipping over obstacles which are strategically placed to knock her on her bum.

Two things stand out about my time on LMHS Matador’s Track and Field Team. The first is that I successfully DID compete in both of those events at two separate meets. Twice, Coach Monroe was able to convince me that I  could successfully navigate the obstacles strategically placed to trip me up. Even though I never placed in hurdles and the 800 meter run only garnished me a 4th place ribbon (out of four runners), I still did it.

The second thing that stands out is a treasured nostalgic heirloom I can still visualize to this day. The monument exists in the form of a pair of blue satin track shoes. I can still see the homely sneakers, and while I don’t know if they were really satin, they shine that bright in my memory.

mNILShzaajnE94KYj5bW4KwAs a teenager, the shoes were not my favorite–remember, I only wore them twice. The metal cleats sparkle in my memory not because of the way they gripped the ground seeing me safely over each hurdle, but because of the indelible message my father sent me upon their purchase.

A father who worked long days in construction, arrived home where his daughter, who was not blessed with athletic prowess, told him she was joining the track team. He looked down at her VANS deck shoes and said, “Get in the truck, you’re gonna need shoes.”

We climbed into my Dad’s sky blue pick-up truck and he drove us to the nearby Big 5 Sporting Goods Store. I can still see my father’s checkbook as his calloused hand signed the note paying nearly fifty dollars for the funky footwear. Fifty dollars may not seem like a lot of money, but over thirty years ago in our middle income family with two working parents; it was an oddity for my Dad to spend that kind of cash on shoes.

This is where the heirloom explodes in my heart.

My Dad didn’t buy me track cleats because I whined and moaned about needing them, and he didn’t buy them because he had any false expectations about my running abilities. The man had raised me. He was fully aware that I was a girl who was drawn to reading, performing, and creating far more often than exerting myself athletically. Unlike Coach Monroe, my father probably had a pretty good idea that I would eventually find my place on the track team, not running in an event, but running the announcer’s booth with a microphone in hand and my voice echoing through the stadium.

I’ve wondered at times if I would even remember my brief inclusion to the track team were it not for the physical manifestation of my father’s confidence. For all I know or imagine, the 4th place ribbon and the spiky slippers sit somewhere in a landfill, and it’s the memory of my father’s belief that has become the treasured heirloom.

This week I was reminded of that parental belief when my Indiegogo fundraising campaign to pay for the editing and publishing of my first fictional manuscript received a hearty donation. Upon notification, I learned the donation was made by my parents.

Writing has brought so many good things into my life, and this is among them. Years from now, will the a published book shine brighter than the heirloom’s of encouragement I’ve already received?

When you drive someone to Big 5 and  buy them a pair of cleats, the runner’s belief in their ability to run well is re-energized.  When faithful friends or far off strangers are willing to invest in your dreams because they see your potential, what happens at the finish line becomes more likely, but less consequential. It’s a race worth running no matter the outcome. Even last place becomes a victory for all.  Time and again, the spark of creativity has been rekindled for those who strive to create by the mere knowledge that someone believes in their ability to navigate the hurdles and endure to the end.

For more information about the fictional book I wrote and how to be a part of Making Kimly’s Trade Happen, simply click on this LINK.

Gathering IFs
Community · spiritual growth

Gathering IFs

Jacquelyn Sill2 Comments

A close friend has invited me to attend the IF:Gathering, a Christian women’s conference meeting this February in Austin, Texas. The website for the IF:Gathering defines their organization’s goal: “We exist to gather, equip and unleash the next generation of women to live out their purpose.”

These young women are among the rising voices of the next generation: gifted visionaries, full of fervor. I am inspired by the way they are inspiring. I value the value others glean from the work they are doing.

So, when my friend asked if she could treat me to this event, I found her generous offer to be an act of love. I believe her desire is for inspiration to be rekindled within this weary soul. However, as soon as I accepted the invitation I began dreading the idea of being around these female world changers.

I found myself waking in the dark hours of the night questioning what purpose I might now have to offer the greater Christian community.   Rather than counting sheep or meditating on scripture, I found myself gathering my own IFs.

  • IF I had been a better wife
  • IF I had been honest with my struggles
  • IF I had been truly transparent with just one person
  • IF I had not thrown away the opportunity I had been given
  • IF only I were less _____________ (insert varying negative adjective)

With each IF gathered, I found my self-worth plummeting. The purpose to my life which is obvious and significant became overshadowed by a big bucket of gathered IFs.  God has called me to be the wife my husband desires and deserves: a helpmate. But with all these IFs gathered from past regrets–I wasn’t being much of a helpmate to anyone.

Like Jacob, I wrestled. Through the nights and in the quiet hours in my home, I kept asking, “After all I have done, how am I to find an IF that has significance?”

Finally one evening, in the unlikeliest of moments, God spoke. While busy working as a food server in a crowded restaurant, it was as if I heard God say to me very clearly, “You’re looking at it wrong.” 

FullSizeRender(4)I stopped dead cold and stared at the pitcher of Iced Tea in my hand. I glanced at the matching pitcher resting on the counter. It was filled with Ice Water. At first glance, both pitchers appeared the same, but their contents were not just slightly different, but completely different.

In that moment I realized the IFs I had been gathering were possibly focused in the wrong direction. I had been so busy asking God to give me meaning for the future, all the while focusing on the IFs of my past. Gathering IFs from my past is not just slightly different, but completely different.

I thought, “I need to be gathering IFs that are forward focused.”

As if having God speak to me while I waited tables at a restaurant wasn’t inspiring enough, God sealed this concept on my heart with something far more lasting than an Iced Tea pitcher. The next morning while working through my Bible study, I came across this passage from 1 John 3: 2-3

“Dear friends, now we are children of God, and what we will be has not yet been made known. But we know that when Christ appears, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is.”

FullSizeRender(3)My brain nearly exploded from the delight of being led to a verse holding forward focused promises. “What we will be has not yet been made known… When Christ appears, we shall be like him…”

Deep emotions are drawn to the surface at the thought of what this implies. This is a reminder that all we are isn’t even known. All that we are is still being made. And when Christ appears, we will be like him. To be like Him holds a different value than I had previously realized. To be like Christ means we will never disappoint anyone again.

  • How heartbreaking are the tears of full grown men when they recall memories of being a young child who disappointed a parent?
  • How many teenage girls have felt the sting of regret when they have eyed the positive results of a pregnancy test? Pregnant, scared and overwhelmed with grief for having disappointed her parents.
  • Which parent among us cannot recall a time when we failed our own child? Family game-night turned temper flaring war zone. When the opposite of what we hoped happens.
  • How many spouses see the patterns of disappointment in their own marriage, but can’t seem to break “that one habit”?  Disappointing a spouse, leaving them feeling isolated is horrifying, as it is the only family relationship we choose.

Thinking of these things makes it worth repeating: to be like Christ means we will never disappoint anyone again.

I contemplated this verse for a couple of days, and I was reminded again of the two beverage containers. They appear to be very similar, but their difference is extreme.

FullSizeRender(1)The IFs I am gathering are not only supposed to be forward focused, but they aren’t even supposed to be about me.

I found myself remembering that which I thought I had understood the day before–and I rephrased it, “I need to be gathering IFs that are God focused without worry or concern for His greater purpose in my life.”

By gathering IFs of His character, we begin now to be transformed into that which we will be when Christ is revealed. Does this mean we will never disappoint anyone ever again? Certainly not. We are still children in need of Grace. It’s not about being free from ever hurting or disappointing anyone again, it’s about being free from the hurting/yearning/scheming inside ourselves and thereby never intentionally hurting others again. Searching desperately for purpose can lead us straight down the path where we wander away from the path of understanding.

IF we remain focused on Him, He will reveal each days purpose, thereby relieving us of the drive to find a greater purpose, as it is already complete.