Sarah Price's Blog, page 33

A Rolling Stone…

Overall, I’m a genuinely happy person. I try, anyway.

But we all have our moments.

Something happened yesterday and I feel very compelled to share it. Will it emerge as a future book? Most likely. But, in the meantime, I hope that by sharing it, you might benefit in advance of the book.

There is a saying that a rolling stone gathers no moss. But I say that’s not true.

Isn’t it true that you feel happier when you are with positive, fun people? Their energy simply rolls off of them and attaches to you! I love being around those types of people and have shed my life of unhappy, yucky people who seem to suck the happiness and joy out of me. Life is too short to be around energy vampires (and I use that term as a metaphor, not as in an unchristian way…lower case “V”).

Which brings me to my story…

The moss gathered by rolling stones is not always positive. Those of you who know me, whether personally or “virtually”, know that my husband and I work very, very hard. Writing is not a job where you can just clock in and clock out. And horses require daily care…there are no vacations or days off when you have the responsibility to care for 60+ horses, ponies, goats, donkeys, and chickens.

Yesterday was the beginning of a new program at the barn. It’s a darling little program for 2.5-5 year old children. Any of you who have young children that there really are not a lot of programs geared for this age bracket. We have worked hard to develop this program, get special insurance, and train the staff/volunteers.

While the program started, I was talking with a reporter and one of our sponsors (Beyer Ford) about Cat and the Youth Mustang Challenge. Cat was supposed to be volunteering but I had pulled her aside to talk to the reporter. Unbeknownst to me, an older woman stormed into my husband’s office and began berating him about the pony program. She was not kind about it, nor did she care that other customers and employees were around. She complained about how horrible the program was, how her grandchild only rode a pony for ten minutes, how she was going to complain to anyone and everyone about it.

She was a rolling stone.

And let me tell you that she gathered moss quickly.

To make a long story short, my husband almost terminated the employee who left in tears. The horrid woman left—her refund in one hand and grandchild in the other. And when I came into the office after the reporter left, he made a comment to me that didn’t sit well and I left the barn angry. It wasn’t until midnight that we sorted out everything.

And later on, after the damage had been done and tone set for the day, every other parent in the program came up to my husband and him that the program was fabulous, the woman was cranky, and that it was better that the older woman wasn’t coming back.

Over the years, I have seen more and more of this. People who say things that are harmful and mean without thinking of the consequences. Not only are they unhappy, they want to ruin it for everyone else.

Working with ponies is not a live carousel ride. This program teaches children patience, self-esteem, and safety. Horseback riding is not about jumping on a horse, riding for 45 minutes, and then being whisked off to another activity. It’s about the care of one of God’s creatures…80% care, 20% riding, and 100% love. And yes, I know that equals 200%.

That woman may have had a bad morning. But she spread her miserable mood to other people. She gathered moss and kept right on rolling down the hill, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. And think of the poor child who will not benefit from the program and learning very important life-skills!

My husband and I eventually realized what happened. But we also learned something from this. When confronted with people who only want to ruin something good, take a step to the side and let them just continue on their (un)merry way. Why do we let unhappy, self-centered people impact us? They have the right to be happy. They, however, have no right to steal that from us. And I know, I know…they can only steal what we give. Well, some people steal it. We just have to learn how to grab it back.

We even role played how to deal with people like this. In the past, I’ve merely shut down when people say horrible things or try to absorb me into their path of moss. Now, we have a plan on how to simply address the issue and move on without letting their negativity or lack of insight ruin our moods.

We cannot stop rolling stones from gathering moss, but we can certainly learn how to get out of the way.

I started thinking about today’s post on Thursday. But, Thursday came and went without anything going down on paper. Friday I started again. See the picture? That is how much I wrote on Friday. I showed it to my friend. I was like, “Girl. Look! This all I’ve written!”

She giggled at me (I think that I am her source of entertainment–I have a LOT of material!) and said, “What are you gonna say about fear?”

“Uh, yah. What am I going to say about fear…”

(I’m pretty sure she giggled again.) “When was a time you were afraid?”

“From age 23-44…oh…you mean to pick ONE time?”

At this point she is just plain laughing at me, “Girl. That is a blog in itself!”

So. Yah. I’ve had some issues with fear for a little while. Fear of germs. Fear of car accidents. Fear of flying. Fear of failing. Fear of illness. Fear of storms. Fear of not being accepted. Fear that my kids would be injured, sick, hurt… Fear of sleep. Fear of not sleeping. Fear of Y2K. Fear after 9/11. Fear of terrorists. Fear of being robbed. I think you might be getting the idea.

Yet, all that time, I considered myself a Christian. I loved Jesus. I accepted Him as my Savior. And, yet, I had no peace. None. There was no joy in my life. I could not allow myself to enjoy anything–ever.

I knew this wasn’t how my life as a Follower was supposed to be lived. But. I couldn’t stop. I would tell myself not worry and fret. It didn’t help. I was always tied up in knots on the inside. I wore the mask of calm. I’m sure some people knew about my anxieties. (I couldn’t hide the terror storms brought to me at my sons’ baseball games). But, for the most part people would never have guessed the extent of my problem.

I was obsessed with obsessing. Truth.

Are you wondering what changed it all?

I’d like to say that God just reached down and healed me one day while I was praying and BAM I was free. But. Yah. *sigh* No. That is not how it went down.

I literally threw myself into a breakdown. My mind said, “Nope! Not gonna do this anymore…I’m on overload”. And, I just–shut down.

It was bad. People. It was a nightmare. I thought I might not make it out of the hole I found myself thrown into.

You know. Something happens when you can no longer rely on yourself. I mean, that was what I was doing. I was trying to control everything in my life with worry–which led to anxiety–which led to hopelessness. But, when I hit the bottom of my pit–when there was no more Lisa left–I said, “God, You got this? I need You to take this and carry me out of here.” And He did. It took time. It took lots of people speaking life into me. It took doctors (plural). It took my family literally caring for me and nurturing me.

Here I stand (well, I’m sitting really) a living testimony that fear CAN be conquered through Jesus.

Do I ever have fear? You betcha! Big time. But, I have learned to immediately go to my Father instead of to worry. Worry is an ugly companion.

So, here are some verses that deal with fear. Hugs all around.

2 Timothy 1:7

For God did not give us a spirit of timidity (of cowardice, of craven and cringing and fawning fear), but [He has given us a spirit] of power and of love and of calm and well-balanced mind and discipline and self-control.

Psalm 34:4

I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

1 John 4:18

There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.

Matthew 6:34

“So don’t be anxious about tomorrow. God will take care of your tomorrow too. Live one day at a time”

Lisa Bull sees her life as a journey along God’s divine plan. While considering herself an expert on nothing, she enjoys laughing and has made “choosing joy” her motto. Lisa has experienced God’s unfailing love and grace in her life and wants nothing more than for others to enjoy that same gift in their lives.

Lisa is the daughter and granddaughter of ministers. She has multiple relatives in ministry on both sides of her father’s family including several pastors, pastor’s wives, and missionaries. In fact, ministry in her maternal grandmother’s family can be traced back several generations. She loves being a wife and mother of two terrific young men.

Visit Lisa at mommalisaof2-LISA’S PERCEPTIONS

I am very excited to announce that my daughter Cat, was selected to participate in the 2015 Youth Mustang Challenge. At 12 years old, she is one of the youngest trainers selected and, from my vantage point, one of the most enthusiastic.

The Youth Mustang Challenge selects applicants who demonstrate their ability to train horses. After being approved, each participant is assigned a wild mustang yearling (18-24 months old). All participants have 90 days to train the mustang before demonstrating their progress for the Mustang Heritage Organization.

“Monche” (short for Comancheria) is a wild mustang, rescued by the Bureau of Land Management (BLM), the government agency that manages and protects the free-roaming mustang population.

Monche was captured on May 1, 2013, the very day that she was born and has never been handled by people.

Up to now, she has spent all of her life in a holding pen in Nebraska with hundreds of other wild mustangs and burros that are taken from the different states so that the population of mustangs does not overgraze public land.

In less than 24 hours, Cat has managed to earn Monche’s trust. She can scratch and rub the mustang as well as groom her.

I hope you will follow her progress on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/monchethemustang

When I first started drafting my debut novel, my writer friends thought I was writing an Amish romance. The story seemed to have many of the necessary plot points including a strict religious setting, a hesitant heroine, and a congregational shunning. But Jaded is actually set in rural west Texas, and the strict religious setting is simply a small town protestant congregation.

At first, a few people argued that a shunning wouldn’t happen in a place like that, but I had to disagree. I had seen it. Not often in the past twenty years, but often enough to remember the echo of pain I felt for those involved. On both sides of the fence.

Since then, I’ve heard from readers and friends and interested others, and it seems that almost everyone has their own story of church hurt. Few have been through an ordeal as dramatic as a shunning, but almost all Christians have experienced hurt on one level or another. And it breaks my heart.

Even though Christians are generally loving and caring to each other, occasionally we’re hardest on the ones we love the most. We expect a lot from each other, and when our brothers and sisters fall short, we’re disappointed. I’m talking about me too. I’ve unintentionally hurt other Christians, and in turn, have been hurt by them. And when I’ve been wounded? That’s when I’m the least understanding. Lucky for me, God knew about my human shortcomings when He provided us with scriptures like 1 Peter 4:8.

Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.

We’re called to love each other, forgive, and get along, but it’s frustrating when things don’t work out easily for myself or others. That’s why writing Jaded was so much fun. I don’t want to give away the ending, but for once, I had the power to make a sticky church situation turn out just right.

From the back cover:

As a child, Ruthie Turner was shunned by the local congregation. Now, thirteen years later, Ruthie’s heart begins to stir when an attractive single preacher arrives. But their relationship is bitterly opposed, and a string of secrets are unearthed that threaten to turn the church, the town, and her world upside down.

Jaded is the rare novel that is a love story between both a woman and a man … and God and His church. Plunging deep into the waters of shame, forgiveness, and restoration, this book will resonate with every woman who’s experiences a loss of heart … and a thirst for hope.

Varina Denman writes stories about the unique struggles women face. She has five children, teaches creative writing and literature, volunteers in her local homeschool cooperative, and boasts sixteen years as a home educator. She resides with her family in North Texas. Her first novel, Jaded, won the 2013 ACFW Genesis Award.

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Over the weekend, I stumbled across a blog by another writer discussing how awkward it is to answer people when they inquire about his occupation.

A blog after my own heart.

This particular writer felt that he needed to call himself a writer, not an author, because nothing had been published yet. He also hated that, when he did say he was an author, people automatically assumed that he should have the words New York Times Bestseller after his name.

I feel his pain. I really hate telling people that I’m a writer, author, or anything else because the reaction is usually the same:

Person: And what do you do?

Me: Uh…I’m an author.

Person: (pause, blinks) Oh, my grandmother once wrote a book (proceeds to tell me about Grandma Warner’s book about making bread with a rock and a cat ran by)

Me: (rolls eyes)

Yes, I admit it, I’m an eye-roller. Although, to be fair, I only imagine that I roll my eyes. As much as I’d like to actually do this, I don’t.

The only thing worse than this is the following conversation:

Person: And what do you do?

Me: Uh…I’m an author.

Person: (pause, blinks) I always wanted to write a book. It must be so easy. I have this great story about…(tells me their great story)

Me: (rolls eyes)

Although this might be tied with the old “I have a great book you should write about my life…” response.

If you want to see me roll my eyes, get me to a family event when someone learns that I have published over 30 books, many of them best-sellers on Amazon and on the ECPA list. The surprised look on their face shouldn’t catch me off-guard anymore, even when they say, “Really? I didn’t know that! (pause, blink) You know, I always wanted to write a book…”

Can you imagine a doctor having this same conversation?

Me: So, what do you do?

Doctor: I’m a neurosurgeon.

Me: (pause, blinks) I always wanted to be a brain surgeon. You know, my mother was like a brain surgeon; she took out my splinters. You should write a book about my mother and her life taking care of us…”

It just wouldn’t fly, would it?

There is a verse in the Bible that I love to reference about this topic:

“A prophet is not without honor except in his own town, among his relatives and in his own home.”

There’s a layer of truth to this for many professions. Last Friday, I wrote about what success really means. If we do something for the wrong reasons, we often do not find success. For me, while it would be nice if once in a while someone gave me a thumbs up or a high five in town, I do not write in order to be recognized. I write because I love the act of writing.

By nature, I am a storyteller. If my husband asks me how my day was, my response always begins with, “You will never believe what happened…”

My children love to do things with me because “everything you do is an adventure,” according to Cat. Even Alex comments about how when we do things together, we always have something crazy happen to us.”

There are two sides of Sarah Price…the one that walks down the streets of Morristown in anonymity and the one that travels around the country to sign books, meet with my readers, and find interesting places to write.

The former is an unknown entity while the latter spends 18-20 hours a day writing books in order to meet deadlines or to tame the creative juices that explode from my neurons. And when she is not writing, she lives life large.

Maybe that should be my answer the next time someone asks me what I do.

“I live life.”

I bet that would cause a few people to think before responding….

Easter bonnet? Check.

Easter shawl? Check.

Easter purse? Check.

Easter dress? Check.

Absolute adorableness? Check.

Easter was a special day in my home. Each year, included a new dress (sometimes handmade by my mom). I would say that I always felt like a little princess on Easter Sunday. Extra pretty. Extra special. Extra excited.

When I woke on Easter Sunday, my eyes would instantly go to my bookshelf. There would sit the most perfect Easter basket ever. Every year it was perfect. My mom has a gift-giving “gift”. She can make the ordinary look exceptional. She picked each candy out carefully and placed them strategically in the basket. Mixed in would be thoughtfully chosen trinkets, jewelry and toys–her love showing in each item.

We always enjoyed Easter Sunday service at church. There seemed to be electricity in the air! It was a special day–a joyful day.

Easter Sunday was a celebration.

EASTER SUNDAY IS A CELEBRATION!

Yesterday, today, and forever! Why? Because we have a God, a Heavenly Father, who loved us SO much that He provided the way for us to be united with Him–in relationship–with Him. He sent His Son to come and grow up among us. He suffered the same aches and pains as us. He had cuts and bruises and colds. He knew what it was like to be teased, bullied and unaccepted. He felt the stares of people who thought He was weird and those who betrayed Him. He understands. Psalm 147:5 Great is our Lord and abundant in power, His understanding is beyond measure.

God the Father sent His Son, Jesus, to live with us, understand us, have compassion on us, and die for us. He died for us. Why? So that we too could be sons and and daughters of Father God.

Ephesians 1:5 (NLT)

God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure.

My mom is a beautiful gift-giver. But God? God gave His Son–as a gift–to that we could have eternal hope of a life with Him.

What do you have to do to receive this gift?

The Bible says we must confess and believe.

Romans 10:9 (ESV)

because, if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.

Do you know Jesus? Are you excited this Easter Sunday? I would love to hear how you found Jesus, or what Jesus has done in your life.

Do you want to know Jesus? Is He speaking to your heart right now? Do you feel a tugging deep down that there is something more to life that you are missing? If so, I would love to talk with you. Feel free to email me at:

[email protected]

Below are some additional resources for you.

http://www.billygrahamlibrary.org/PGView.aspx?pid=13

http://followchrist.ag.org/

Finally:

Numbers 6:24-26 (AMP)

The Lord bless you and watch, guard, and keep you;

The Lord make His face to shine upon and enlighten you and be gracious (kind, merciful, and giving favor) to you;

The Lord lift up His [approving] countenance upon you and give you peace (tranquility of heart and life continually).

I have to tell you that I had such an amazing evening last night, celebrating the Pesach at the house of my dear friend, Iris Kadosh. Despite running late (which I will continue to blame my husband, even if Iris gave me that look), we made it to their beautiful with just 30 seconds until official sunset.

I’ve been fortunate enough to be invited before. I suppose enough time has passed and they forgot how Cat cried about how hungry she was and Alex sat red faced between two very lovely girls (well, that WAS four years ago).

I love this holiday and celebrating it with my friends. Last night, there were well over 25 people, some of them from France, Italy, Morocco, Israel, and, of course, America. Many different religions sat at the table and everyone was warmly received by our host and hostess.

One of the other things that I love about this holiday and celebrating it with my friends is how it is all about tradition. Raffi, Iris’s husband, printed out a letter from a very important Rabbi that discussed this very thing. People all around the world were celebrating the same holiday, the remberance of the exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt, at the very same time: sunset. The words spoken, whether in English, French, Italian, or Hebrew, were the same and in the same sequence.

I love listening to the readings in Hebrew and the singing which reminded me of the Amish worship services. Listening to the beautiful language of Israel just transforms to another place. I can just shut my eyes and feel as if I am there at the Last Supper when Jesus and his disciples celebrated Passover in Jerusalem.

Such an amazing evening and, as always, an endless stream of food: pulled beef, chicken, artichokes with meatballs, matzo soup, matzah bread, vegetables, couscous…. No one went hungry, that was for sure and certain. And, Iris even made the most delicious chocolate cake…without flour! She promised to send me the recipe so, I’ll share it when she does.

It was a great evening. I love all of her friends who have become a second family to me when holidays roll around. If you are ever honored enough to be invited to celebrate the Pesach, I encourage you to not hesitate and say YES!

It is truly an experience that makes me feel closer to God and Jesus. It will change you in a way as you realize that you are seeing a tradition…a real tradition…that has survived thousands of years and of a religious significance to all of us.

So, despite having been ALMOST late, I will begin pleading my case with Iris NOW for next year.

I have to tell you that I had such an amazing evening last night, celebrating the Pasach at the house of my dear friend, Iris Kadosh. Despite running late (which I will continue to blame my husband, even if Iris gave me that look), we made it to their beautiful with just 30 seconds until official sunset.

I’ve been fortunate enough to be invited before. I suppose enough time has passed and they forgot how Cat cried about how hungry she was and Alex sat red faced between two very lovely girls (well, that WAS four years ago).

I love this holiday and celebrating it with my friends. Last night, there were well over 25 people, some of them from France, Italy, Morocco, Israel, and, of course, America. Many different religions sat at the table and everyone was warmly received by our host and hostess.

One of the other things that I love about this holiday and celebrating it with my friends is how it is all about tradition. Raffi, Iris’s husband, printed out a letter from a very important Rabbi that discussed this very thing. People all around the world were celebrating the same holiday, the remberance of the exodus of the Jewish people from Egypt, at the very same time: sunset. The words spoken, whether in English, French, Italian, or Hebrew, were the same and in the same sequence.

I love listening to the readings in Hebrew and the singing which reminded me of the Amish worship services. Listening to the beautiful language of Israel just transforms to another place. I can just shut my eyes and feel as if I am there at the Last Supper when Jesus and his disciples celebrated Passover in Jerusalem.

Such an amazing evening and, as always, an endless stream of food: pulled beef, chicken, artichokes with meatballs, matzo soup, matzah bread, vegetables, couscous…. No one went hungry, that was for sure and certain. And, Iris even made the most delicious chocolate cake…without flour! She promised to send me the recipe so, I’ll share it when she does.

It was a great evening. I love all of her friends who have become a second family to me when holidays roll around. If you are ever honored enough to be invited to celebrate the Pesach, I encourage you to not hesitate and say YES!

It is truly an experience that makes me feel closer to God and Jesus. It will change you in a way as you realize that you are seeing a tradition…a real tradition…that has survived thousands of years and of a religious significance to all of us.

So, despite having been ALMOST late, I will begin pleading my case with Iris NOW for next year.

IT’S PARTY TIME!

My new book, An Empty Cup, releases on April 14th and we are throwing an online party to celebrate!

Join me online (Facebook) at 7 p.m. for an evening of fun, book trivia, party favors, and whatever else I have up my sleeve.

RSVP by clicking on the picture. Don’t forget to invite your friends!

Well, the good news keeps pouring in. Not only does this upcoming week kick off our celebration of An Empty Cup with lots of fun posts, video, and even a surprise guest or two, but we also get to celebrate the big news that I have just received another wonderful book contract from one of my publishers!

The thrill never gets old of knowing that the publishers love your work enough to invest in publishing and distributing it.

Writing has been a dream of mine since I was a little girl. I learned to read early and even taught all of my stuffed animals 9th grade English when I was just in 2nd and 3rd grade (using my mother’s old textbooks from when she taught high school). I devoured books in school, often plowing through tests and assignments so that I could slip away inside of a book. Luckily I managed to get great grades (with the exception of a C in music because I refused to sing!).

Instead of spending summers at the pool or beach, I spent them exploring different countries, often on my own as my parents would send me to stay with friends of theirs in Europe or the Caribbean. I loved traveling, especially living in Argentina and working on an archeological dig in Alaska for a summer. Travel is extremely important to my writing because I am a firm believer that travel is a better education than any school or college. Experiencing new places, sights, sounds, food, language…culture…it’s core to human development and that is necessary to understand if you want to be a writer.

So here I sit, looking at this amazing new contract and feeling one of those pinch me moments.

I think a lot of people gauge success by what they can achieve materialistically rather than what they can accomplish artistically from following their dreams. Not me. After almost forty years (almost!), I have managed to achieve the dream of success that I always wanted…to write books that move people.

Success is what you make of it…not what you try to let it make of you.