Influence

I'm a bonafide collector of quotes. Give me an inspirational quote and a story or article begins to root. That's what happened when I read the following quote recently from Henry Drummond:

The people who influence you
are the people who believe in you.

I had heard his name before, but didn't know much about him. I learned that Drummond, who lived from 1851-1897, was a lecturer in natural science. He was also an ordained minister and evangelist who assisted Dwight L. Moody during his revivals. However, his biggest influence lies in a short piece he wrote in 1874 at the age of 23. "The Greatest Thing in the World" has pointed countless people to love others as Christ loves us. It grew out of I Corinthians 13, and its message is still affecting readers well over a century since he wrote it.

This quote from Drummond makes me recall people who have influenced me through the years. Influence doesn't have to be loud and splashy. In my own life, I am most grateful for the ones who spared me a lecture, but encouraged me in ways that left a deep dent in my life.

• my grandfather, who wrote back and forth with me all through my teen years, praying for my future. He shared his b/w nature photos in those letters, too, which planted an early interest in photography.
  
• Ada, my sixth grade Sunday school teacher who always found time to talk, even when I cornered her at the grocery store.
  
• Pastor Warner, a retired preacher who attended church with us many years ago. Always ready with a kind word and an outstretched hand, he made me aware of how our words affect others.
• my parents, who encouraged me to try my hand at writing, beginning with silly poems about family events.
  
• Nick, who bought me my first copy of Writer's Market in 1979, and wrote a note inside that encouraged me to begin submitting articles to publishers.
• my kids, who gave me time and space to move ahead with my dreams. They knew to leave me alone with my work for a one-hour stretch every afternoon unless (1) someone rang the doorbell, (2) the house was on fire, or (3) they were bleeding. When I completed my first book project, they hung a homemade banner across my office door, congratulating me on the big event.
  
• Laura, a dear friend in her 90s whose sweet spirit defied the hardships she had faced in life
• Jody, a creative graphic artist friend who loves brainstorming, and always encourages me when I hit a blank wall.

I could fill a notebook with names, and maybe I should. It's good to remember and to honor the ones who bless our lives. Thank You, Lord, for each of them.

If your gift is serving others, serve them well. If you are a teacher, teach well. If your gift is to encourage others, be encouraging. If it is giving, give generously. If God has given you leadership ability, take the responsibility seriously. And if you have a gift for showing kindness to others, do it gladly.

Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good.

- Romans 12:7-9 (New Living Translation)

God Knew

"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” - Dr. Seuss

Last spring, my backyard underwent a dramatic transformation. I didn't intend to dig up the entire lawn, but once determination grabs a shovel, there's no turning back.

Perennials took root and swore their allegiance to a special mix of fine soil and fertilizer. Buds eased open and lasted long into Summer and Fall. Then came Winter.

At first, I thought the rains were going to drown my efforts. I was certain that freezing temperatures later in the season was going to murder everything I'd planted. And when snow surprised our valley, I regretted my lack of gardening savvy--I knew little about caring for perennials through their dormant season.

Spring sprang long ago, but here in the Pacific Northwest, we can't go anywhere without somebody mentioning our unseasonably cool weather. I heard one lady in her late 80s announcing yet another frost advisory, and telling her friends to "go home and baby those perennials." I thought, What perennials? Mine look like dead twigs jammed into the ground.

I asked my friend Jody (the most knowledgeable gardener I know) why my plants all looked dead. She assured me that if I looked closely around the base of the "twigs," I'd spot new growth. She was right. Teeny-tiny leaves were forming down at ground level. Now, three weeks later, I have luscious foilage producing buds. Some have bloomed, thanks to two days of sunshine.

In spite of drenching rain, blankets of snow, and deep freezes of Winter, something amazing had been happening at the deep-down-out-of-sight level. Silently and deliberately. Without fanfare. Right on time.

And all along, God knew.

Many, O LORD my God,
are the wonders you have done.
The things you planned for us
no one can recount to you;
were I to speak and tell of them,
they would be too many to declare.
- Psalm 40:5 (NIV)

I dare you to take the WGSI 30-Day Challenge...

Reclaiming the Office

So I haven't blogged in two weeks. There's a perfectly good explanation. I began a decluttering project that evolved into more than I bargained for, but I'm here to report that I found my floor today.

I hadn't seen it since sometime around Valentine's Day, as it has been protesting under the weight of bookstacks, boxed-up photos, and so much more. Between my desk and the window sit colorful crates of project manuscripts and idea-filled notebooks, layered like building blocks halfway to the ceiling. It's not a pretty sight, folks.

My writing space once belonged to a teenaged son who graduated to an apartment and left me with no choice but to haul out the paint. I'd bought a soft shade of yellow in anticipation of the day when I could slap those walls with a fresh coat. Long before the paint had dried, I lugged reams of paper and file folders, and shoved my desk and bookshelves into my shiny new tax- deductable space. Finally, I would have an office instead of a corner; a relaxing brainstorming retreat instead of borrowed space in the middle of family traffic.

Fast-forward a dozen or so years, and picture paper...lots of paper. I've spent weeks sorting in slow-motion, deciding what's worth saving and what needs tossing. It's getting easier with each passing day, because I'm losing the patience battle. I'm tired of trying to rationalize why my ancient collection of old news clippings will ever morph itself into articles about early medical inventions or solutions for ridding a rose garden of pesky aphids. Those clippings have homesteaded in an old brown expandable file folder for 17 years without seeing the light of day, so why would I suddenly need them now?

Out they go.

Blame my frenzy on organizational guru Peter Walsh, who is an avid believer in reclaiming floors, shelves, and desktops. In his most excellent book, It's All Too Much!, he sings the praises of donating, tossing, or selling the excess, to create a functional space that isn't filled to the brim with "someday" goals and "wannabe" dreams. I like his approach to decluttering, even though it makes the creative writer in me shudder. (I'm not entirely convinced that I'll be able to think in a clutter-free office.) Truth is, if I had been on the receiving end of Moses's wake-up call--"Pack your things, we're heading to the Promised Land..."--, I'm telling you, I'd have been in deep doodoo.

But fortunately I don't have any appointments tomorrow, and my new super-strength Hefty bags are waiting to be filled. Wish me well.

I dare you to take the WGSI 30-Day Challenge...