ŷ������

You can call me old-fashioned. I don’t mind, because in many ways, I am. I have an e-reader, but I much prefer a “real�� book. I have thousands of photographs on my phone, but I still print out my favorites and display them all over the house. I send and receive text messages, but it’s a special thrill to receive a hand-written letter from someone I love. I enjoy talking to my granddaughters on FaceTime, but it isn’t the same as holding them on my lap. And a family Zoom call this summer on Ken’s and my 50thwedding anniversary won’t be the same as celebrating with our loved ones in person.

In the past, I’ve been stubbornly technophobic, relying on my computer-savvy children, my assistant Christine, and when all else fails, the “Geek Squad�� at Best Buy. I was convinced that there’s truth to the adage, “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.�� But I’m learning that old dogs actually can be taught new tricks when they’re forced to. My newest book, “If I Were You,�� releases tomorrow, June 2, and since many of my tried-and-true methods of launching a new book are on lockdown, I’ve had to learn a lot of new tricks. So has my long-suffering husband who has become my videographer, technical assistant, Zoom coach, and a shoulder-to-cry-on as we’ve been sequestered at home with minimal computer skills and a very steep learning curve to negotiate.

I think we all feel pretty much the same in lamenting the changes the pandemic has brought. The question we ask again and again is, “When will things get back to normal?�� We fear that the answer may be “never.�� Facing unwanted change and an unknown future can wear a person down.

“If I Were You�� is set in England during World War II, and I’ve come to realize that the generations who suffered through that war faced circumstances that were similar to what we’re currently enduring but on a much larger scale. They had no idea how long the war would last or who would win it, or if their loved ones would live or die. Their former lives had been turned upside down, forcing them to learn all sorts of new things, like how to sleep in a bomb shelter or cope with food shortages and rationing. We know how the war ended and that evil was ultimately defeated; they had no idea what would happen as the war dragged on for six long years in England and four years in the United States.

As a writer, I know that I must plunge my characters into troubling circumstances if I want them to grow and change. It’s the only way to motivate them to turn to God. And now I’m wondering if God might be using this pandemic to try to change some things in my life? Might He be trying to teach this old dog some new tricks? The Bible says, “suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.�� (Romans 5:3) And while my actual suffering has been very minimal, especially compared to enduring a world war, my eyes have been opened to how I’ve taken so many wonderful things in my life for granted. Such as worshiping with other believers in church. Eating out with friends. Browsing through the bookstore or the library. Hopping on an airplane to visit my mom and sister in New York, or our son in California.

And I’m going to miss gathering with my friends and loyal readers in person this week to tell you about my newest book. It’s impossible to do it the “old fashioned�� way for now, but I hope you’ll join me on Thursday, June 4 at 8:00 PM (EST) as I launch “If I Were You�� in a brand-new way. Here is the link where you can register. Simply click on the picture.

So tell me, what new tricks have you learned during the past few months?

If you could trade places with someone for a day, who would it be? As the title of my newest novel suggests, one of the themes of is envy. The novel takes place in England during World War II and, at times, each of the heroines of the story wishes that she could trade places with the other. And if I could be someone else? Well, perhaps I would trade with a British princess.

I’ve had a lifelong fascination with the . Long before I could follow them on Facebook and Instagram, I have followed them in the news. My interest intensified during my teenage years when I fell in love with the Beatles, but for five generations, my family’s story has had some interesting parallels with the royals.

The Queen Mum (Queen Elizabeth’s mother) was the same age as my grandmother. They both lived to be over 100, they both died in the same year. Their daughters (my mom and the current Queen Elizabeth) are also the same age, and are both still going strong and leading their families well into their 90s. My mom remembers becoming fascinated with the King of England’s two daughters, Princess Elizabeth and her sister Princess Margaret, as a young girl. At the time, the newspaper printed paper dolls of the two princesses in the Sunday comics, complete with royal costumes to dress them in.

During World War II, while my , Princess Elizabeth served her country in the ., a branch of the Women’s Royal Army Corp that drove and repaired trucks (or lorries, if you’re British).

After the war, it was time for love and marriage and children. Mom married my dad—who had served in the Navy in the Philippines—and they had my two sisters and me. Queen Elizabeth married Prince Philip—who served in the Royal British Navy—and had Prince Charles, Princess Anne, and Princes Andrew and Edward. Like many young girls, I dreamed of becoming a princess—and always hoped I would marry real-life Prince Charles.

I was able to follow the British royal family more closely during the years that my husband and I lived in Canada, a British Commonwealth nation. In fact, I waved to Queen Elizabeth when she and her motorcade drove down Portage Avenue near my home in Winnipeg. There were thousands of royal-followers like myself in Canada who watched the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana on television. I was happily married by then and had long given up hope of marrying Prince Charles. But it so happened that the new Princess Diana and I both learned that we were expecting a baby at the same time. It was a race to see who would have her baby first. Diana beat me by a mere nine days. Her son Prince William was born on June 21, and my son Ben on June 30. We raced once again when she was expecting Prince Harry and I was expecting my daughter Maya—this time I beat the princess by four months.

And now the tradition continues. My daughter has also become a fan of the British royals and eagerly followed the fairy-tale wedding of Prince William to Princess Kate. Children soon followed for this generation, too. Maya’s 4-year-old daughter Lyla is a perfect match for 5-year-old Prince George. And if that doesn’t work out, maybe her daughter Ayla, who is not quite 2 years-old, can marry Prince Louis, who recently turned 2.

We are all still avid royal-watchers, but do I still wish I could trade places with one of them? Their many lovely palaces and grand estates are very tempting. And the clothes! But as a fan of the TV series I’ve seen another side of their royal lives that is less than enviable. I like my quiet life too much to ever enjoy being in the public eye the way they are. And I don’t think Prince Charles or Queen Elizabeth would approve of my writing career. Or my bike-riding hobby. Then again, maybe they would envy my life?

So, how about you? If you could trade places with someone for a day, who would it be?

Click the cover image to learn more about “If I Were You�� release date June 2, 2020

��

��

This week on May 8, the world will celebrate the 75th anniversary of a very important victory. It was called V-E Day back in 1945, the celebration of Victory in Europe—victory over Hitler and Mussolini and Fascism. The terrible destruction and death tolls had finally come to an end, and people in Europe could safely leave their homes again. They could get on with rebuilding their lives and reuniting with their loved ones.

My mother was a cadet nurse in the US Navy on that day in 1945, finishing up her nursing degree at a hospital in New York City. She came from a small, “one-horse�� town, as she described it, so living in New York City was a new and exciting experience for her.

When word came that victory in Europe had been declared and that crowds were swarming to Times Square to celebrate, Mom’s roommate said, “Let’s go!�� They took the subway, which cost ten cents in 1945, and joined the celebration.

The crowd was enormous, with more people than Mom had ever seen in her life. Everyone was happy—laughing and cheering and waving flags. The country had been at war since Mom was sixteen, and now at last, at LAST—it was over. She didn’t get swept into an embrace like the amorous sailor in the famous photograph, but she could easily see how it could happen in such a jubilant atmosphere.

But then, somehow, she and her roommate got separated. Mom looked around at the vast sea of faces and couldn’t find her. Her roommate knew how to navigate the subway system—Mom didn’t. And her roommate had Mom’s dime for the return trip to their nurses�� quarters at the hospital. Just as Mom was about to panic, she spotted a policeman. She wove through the crowd to reach him and explained what had happened. She asked him for directions and begged him to loan her a dime. He was reaching into his pocket when Mom’s roommate reappeared. They laughed and hugged, and went home. Mom is now 94 and she still remembers V-E Day as if it were yesterday.

My newest book, “If I Were You,�� takes place in England during World War II and features a scene of V-E Day in London on May 8, 1945. Friends Eve Dawson and Audrey Clarkson have endured the terrifying, frustrating, endless days of World War II together, and they head out like my mom and her roommate did, to celebrate in Trafalgar Square:

“Thousands of people filled the streets, cheering and waving flags—Audrey had never seen so many flags! People climbed onto the statues and flower-strewn monuments, rejoicing. Men and women in uniform were everywhere, representing the many roles that citizens had played in this fight…Someone shoved miniature flags into their hands and they joined the waving and cheering. Children rode on their parents�� shoulders and Audrey realized those little ones had never experienced peacetime. She saw smiles on people’s faces but also tears. Everyone had lost someone. At least no more people had to die.��

But the novel doesn’t end with this scene. As joyous as this moment is for Eve and Audrey, they now must figure out what comes next. The world is a very different place from the one they grew up in. They are different women. They’ve learned lessons about themselves that should shape how they will live the rest of their lives. That is, if they’re wise enough to apply those lessons.

I think we’re all hoping there will be a V-C Day when we can declare victory over this coronavirus that has altered so many of our lives. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t suffered a loss of one kind or another, whether it’s a loved one, a job, a business, or a chance to graduate with their class. Hopefully, we’ve also gained some insight into ourselves and the way we were living before the lockdown. Hopefully, we’ll emerge as better persons, more in tune with God and with His plans for us. Maybe our prayer going forward should be the prayer of Moses in Psalm 90: “Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.��

I look forward to the day when we can join together in the town square to laugh and hug and celebrate victory. Until then, I want to ask myself: How am I being changed? What lessons do you never want to forget?

��

��

One of the hardest things for me about the current shelter-at-home orders, has been being apart from my friends. I miss them terribly, and I’ve had to find different ways of getting together with them.

A week ago, Ken and I drove to our beach and parked six feet away from our friends�� car so we could watch the sunset together. We rolled down our windows and talked and laughed as we enjoyed each other’s company from a safe distance. Friends in another state called us on FaceTime at suppertime and we enjoyed a meal together. Last Thursday I prayed with four of my fellow writers via Skype. We didn’t have to worry about social distancing since we live far apart—in California, Missouri, Michigan, Georgia, and Lyon, France. But prayer for our families and for our calling as writers forms the basis of our friendship, and being together helped ease our anxiety in these trying days. On Friday, I shared a conference call with the faithful friends in my writers�� critique group to discuss our current works-in-progress. Their feedback and friendship were life-giving, as it has been for the past 25 years that we’ve been together.

They say “birds of a feather flock together,�� and in nature I think it’s mostly true. I like to hang out with friends who share common interests and hobbies with me, such as writing or biking or our Christian faith. But every now and then, you see something like this in nature:

I’m not a bird expert, but clearly, that pelican doesn’t quite fit in. Which got me thinking about my own friendships. I’ve noticed that while my friends and I share much in common, we are very different on a deeper level. I’m an introvert, many of them are extroverts; I need to think things through, some are wonderfully spontaneous; I’m reserved, the convivial ones bring much-needed laughter into my life. Over the years, the differences they’ve brought to our friendship has helped me grow in many important ways.

In my newest novel, “If I Were You,�� I wanted to explore the theme of friendship. Like my friends and me, the main characters, Eve Dawson and Audrey Clarkson, are very different from each other. The novel takes place in England in a Downton Abbey-like manor house, and the obvious difference between the two friends is that Eve is Audrey’s servant. But when England becomes engulfed in the second World War, the friends�� differences become less important as they unite to fight a common enemy. Together they endure the challenges and hardships of the war and its aftermath.

And that’s what I’ve noticed about this very different war we’re currently battling. My friendships seem to be growing stronger, not weaker, even though we’re apart. No matter where we live, we’re all experiencing the same unsettling fears and deep concerns for our families and loved ones. The separation has caused me to pray harder for them, and to tell them I love them more often. When I can finally be with my friends again, the hugs and laughter we share are going to be more precious than ever before.

We’re all in this together, all around the world, and while our individual circumstances may differ, the broad outlines of what we’re enduring in this pandemic and quarantine give us much in common. I hope the memory of our shared experiences will remain and continue to unite us. Will you join with me in praying that, when this is over, our differences will be far less important than they were before? Will you pray that, as children of our Heavenly Father, we’ll remember the unity of our shared struggle? We’re all in this together.

��

��

��

��

As another week of quarantine begins, I’ve noticed a new worry taking root in my heart. Finances. With the stock market on a roller-coaster ride, I’m growing concerned about what my husband and I will live on in the future if our retirement fund vanishes. Our senior friends and family members face the same worry. Many of my friends make their living through conferences and retreats and concerts—all of which have been cancelled, leaving them without an income. My son and many others have been laid off from work without pay.

But I think I’ve discovered an antidote to my financial fears, and for the many other fears that have arisen during these strange times: Remembering.

I remember a time, years ago, when our finances were extremely tight after my husband went into full-time ministry. I was trying to outfit our three children for school one fall and the list of school supplies ate up a huge chunk of our budget, leaving little room for clothes. The kids would need warm boots for the Canadian winters, which meant we could afford only one pair of shoes apiece—and they would have to be gym shoes. Our son Ben, then six years old, spotted a pair of shiny, black dress shoes like his dad wore to church, and he begged me to buy them instead of the gym shoes. He wanted to dress up for church, too. I had to say no.

“Then I’ll pray and ask God for them,�� he replied.

Uh oh. His simple faith astounded me. And worried me. How could I support and encourage his fledgling prayer life yet still teach him that prayer isn’t a magic wand you can wave to get whatever you want? I had no idea. But meanwhile, I started scrambling for a way to “play God�� and buy those shoes for him. Maybe I could find some extra cash somewhere or ask Grandma for a loan. Because truthfully, I didn’t quite believe that God would answer Ben’s prayer.

The very next day—while I was still scheming—my neighbor came over with a bag of clothes that her son Martin had outgrown. He was a year older than Ben, and I was grateful for the hand-me-downs. “Now, I don’t know if you’ll want these or not,�� she said. “Martin was in a wedding last year and he only wore them once.�� She pulled a pair of shiny, black dress shoes from the bag.

They were Ben’s size.

“Yes,�� I murmured, barely able to breathe.

“Well, good. Then here’s another pair Ben can grow into.�� She lifted a second pair from the bag. “Martin was in another wedding recently and I know he’ll never wear these again, either.��

I’m quite sure I heard God laughing.

Ben treasured both pairs of those shoes, and I know that his faith grew from the experience—as did mine. I had known in theory that God feeds the sparrows and clothes the lilies, but I learned that He also hears a six-year-old boy’s very specific prayers and is well able to answer them. To abundantly answer them! And now, remembering this lesson, I know that I can trust God with my prayers for the future.

Jesus said “So do not worry, saying ‘What shall we eat?�� or ‘What shall we drink?�� or ‘What shall we wear?’…Your Heavenly Father knows that you need them.�� In fact, He even knows your shoe size.

In these trying times, let’s all “Remember the wonders He has done…�� (Psalm 105:5) and trust Him to hear our prayers.

There’s no escaping the news, the fear, the warnings. The Coronavirus is coming! Beware! Be ready! I understand that I should be worried—after all, I’m over sixty and that puts me at a greater risk of dying if I do contract the virus. But strangely, I’m not worried. While I would like to live another dozen years and watch my grandchildren grow up, my philosophy is the same as my heroines�� motto in my novel “Where We Belong.�� Whenever their lives were at risk they would say, “God knows when the end of our days will be; we have nothing to fear.�� The question that should concern me is not “how or when will I die,�� but “how will I live in the meantime?�� How well will I represent Jesus?

I keep wondering what Christians are doing in China, where the outbreak began. Or in Iran, another hard-hit country where Christians make up a tiny minority. Naturally, they must hope to survive this epidemic—we all do. But I’m guessing that believers in those hard-hit nations are reaching out to their sick and dying neighbors with the love of Christ in spite of the risk to themselves. I’m certain we’ll hear stories of their courage and faith in the days to come. And of the lives they saved.

The Apostle Peter urged us to “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give a reason for the hope that you have�� (1 Peter 3:15). And non-believers are never hungrier for the hope that we have in Christ than when they are facing death. Perhaps that’s why God allows Christians to suffer through the same plagues and wars and disasters as non-Christians, side by side—so we can proclaim His love and hope to the lost.

While this particular virus is unusual, the fear and uncertainty it brings to people around the world is not. Every generation has faced life-threatening disasters, natural or man-made. In my novel “If I Were You�� (releasing June 2), the main characters live in London during World War II, and experience the relentless Nazi bombings known as The Blitz. In the passage below, Eve is worried for her mum’s safety, and tries to persuade her to quit her job in London as a maidservant to Lady Rosamunde and go to a safer place.

“I don’t understand why you’re so loyal to her, Mum. Lady Rosamunde demands so much from you, working all hours of the day and night, yet she doesn’t have an ounce of consideration for you.��

Mum sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. “It isn’t easy to explain, Eve. I suppose . . . I suppose it’s because of what the vicar once said in one of his sermons. He read a Bible passage that said servants should do their work joyfully, as if serving the Lord. Jesus said if we’re ordered to go one mile, we should go two. And I feel sorry for Lady Rosamunde. For all her wealth, she is a sad, lonely woman . . . But she gave me a job at a time when I badly needed it to support you. So I’ve always thought that God must have a reason for wanting me to work for her.��

I don’t believe there are any “accidents�� with God. Whatever disaster may strike us—a Nazi bomb, a deadly virus, or a heart attack—we can know that it is firmly under God’s control, and that it will serve His greater purpose. We already have eternal life, and so “to live is Christ and to die is gain�� (Philippians 1:21). We can face the end of our days with nothing to fear.

If you’d like to learn more about “If I Were You,”�� follow this link to see a fun video with more information:��

��

This past week, my publishing company invited me to attend the Public Library Association conference in Nashville. Librarians are among my very favorite people because they share my passion for books and reading. And the librarians I met were a warm, dedicated bunch who knew their patrons and were focused on finding the very best resources for them. I had a wonderful time. I also made a fabulous new friend, Robin W. Pearson, who was signing copies of her debut novel “A Long Time Comin’�� right beside me as I signed Advance Reader Copies of my newest novel, “If I Were You.�� (Releasing June 2.)

But in the days leading up to the conference, the weather reports predicted a snowstorm that threatened to derail my plans. Would the roads to the airport be clear? Would the planes be able to take off? Would the storm cause a cascade of delays and cancellations that would strand me in Chicago and make me miss the conference? I anxiously checked the weather reports several times a day before realizing that my endless worrying accomplished nothing—except to unsettle me. I vaguely recalled a scripture verse about making plans, and finally decided to look it up. It’s Proverbs 19:21:

“Many are the plans in a man’s heart, but it is the Lord’s purpose that prevails.��

Why is that such a difficult concept for me to grasp? As much as I hate having my plans scrapped, why can’t I remember that the delays and interruptions that change my plans might be exactly what God purposed all along? If I’m stuck in an airport waiting lounge, maybe there’s a lesson He is trying to teach me, or another weary traveler He wants me to reach out to. If I’ve given my life to Him, I shouldn’t be surprised when He calls me away from my plans on a mission that He has chosen.

Paul and Silas’s preaching tour of Philippi was going great until they were arrested, beaten, and thrown into jail. Late that night, God added in an earthquake for good measure. Talk about a change of plans! But these “disruptions�� were all under God’s sovereign control and ultimately led to the conversion of the jailer and his entire family. The Lord’s purpose prevailed.

In the end, the snowstorm I had dreaded bypassed our area. I didn’t encounter any delays or flight cancellations. I had spent three days worrying for nothing. It reminded me of one of my characters in my novel “If I Were You.�� She takes matters into her own hands after her life veers off in a direction she didn’t plan, instead of trusting God. Her schemes and lies cause a chain of consequences that make matters even worse for her. As I was writing her story I had to sigh and shake my head and say, “If only she had put her trust in God.��

Yes, Lynn, if only you would remember to trust God’s plans.

I have the best job there is. I can live in an imaginary world all day, making up stories and creating new characters. I’m my own boss. I can set my own schedule and even work in my pajamas if I want to. But as great as this may sound, I don’t live a glamorous life with TV appearances and book signings and huge royalty checks. It takes me a year to complete a book, and for most of that time my life is very routine—some would say boring.

On a typical day, I’m mostly alone with no one to talk to except imaginary people. And even though I’m my own boss, I find that I’m much more productive if I stick to a schedule (and change out of my pajamas.) I get up early, eat breakfast, and then have my “quiet time,�� praying and reading my Bible. This daily time alone with God helps me remember Who I’m really working for and why.

After my quiet time, I go into my office, sit down at the computer, and write. (Of course, I also check my e-mail and Facebook and try not to get too distracted . . .) There are days when my writing goes so well that I lose all track of time. On other days, I have to discipline myself to write whether I feel like it or not. As my manuscript deadline draws near, I set daily writing goals—usually about five pages a day. I work this way for 5 days a week and sometimes on Saturday but I always take Sunday off—a Sabbath rest that refreshes me for work on Monday.

I recently completed another novel, and after time off for a much-needed vacation, I will soon begin the process all over again—researching then writing and rewriting another novel, finishing it one year from now. I’m sometimes asked why I do it. Why do I sit at my desk day after day, year after year, with no guarantee that my book will ever sell a single copy or will impact a single life? The short answer is, because I’m convinced that it’s what God has asked me to do. Mind you, it took a few years for me to come to the conclusion that God had called me to be a writer. And it took eleven years from the time I first sat down to write until my first book was published. Believe me, there were many rejections and tears and much second-guessing during those eleven years. But I kept writing, with no guarantee that I would ever be published, no proof that I wasn’t wasting my time.

I often thought of Noah. Many years passed from the time when he first heard God asking him to build an ark, until the first raindrops fell. He had no money-back guarantees while he hammered away. If it turned out that God hadn’t spoken to him, then he would have wasted his life. But he took a chance that God was calling him, that the rain would come, and he obeyed. And Noah saved himself and his family.

I believe that God calls every one of us to serve Him—in a variety of ways, big and small, as many and varied as there are snowflakes. We can choose to actively listen for His call or not. Then we can choose to obey or not. Most of the time, we won’t have any guarantee that our obedience will have an effect. Will we keep hammering? Keep writing? Keep praying for that person God put on our heart? Keep doing the daily task of showing up, doing our best, believing that we’re acting in obedience with no proof, without a single raindrop falling?

If you’re losing heart, wondering if your calling is real or if your work is in vain, consider Noah. Or Abraham. “By faith Abraham, when called to go to a place he would later receive as his inheritance, obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going�� (Hebrews 11:8). And because he obeyed, Abraham became the ancestor of Jesus Christ. ��Please don’t give up. Please keep hammering and obeying. I’m very glad that I did.

Today I welcome my friend from as my guest blogger. She has graciously allowed me some time away to rest, relax and recharge. She has been writing a series called “Postures�� that considers the many postures that we can take as we approach God and the postures He takes toward us as we approach him. This is the second post in this series. To read more, please visit her blog at .

What do you think God’s posture toward you is? I’m not looking for the Sunday school answer but what you truly believe. When God thinks of you, are his arms open, closed, crossed, indifferent?

Does he have his finger lifted to you in accusation? Is he shushing you? Are his hands raised in a “whatever�� pose? Has he completely turned his back?

Or, is he waiting with his arms wide open? Is he turning his ear toward you so he can be sure to give you all of his attention? Is he busy or is he waiting for you?

I believe many of us, if we are honest with ourselves believe that God the Father, is standing in judgement of us. Ready to heap shame and “shoulds�� all over our head until we crumble from the weight of it all. Isn’t that what we’ve been taught? We sing Jesus Loves Me This I Know but just as soon as the song is finished we are given a list of our failures and shortcomings.

Don’t get me wrong, we have plenty of failures and shortcomings but that is the entire reason Jesus came to earth. He came to give us the assurance of forgiveness and to welcome us into his kingdom. He did not visit this planet to shame us or to shake an accusing finger in our faces until we relented.

You can study all of the gospels for your entire life and you will never find Jesus using shame as a weapon or a tool to bring us closer to him or to control us. You can search the Old Testament and the New Testament and not once come up with an example where God used shame to control his people. He just isn’t into the control game.

What you will find is a God who is grieved that his precious people have turned their backs on him. You will find a father that is hurting because of the poor choices his children have made and you will see him weep for the hurt and pain they bring upon themselves. You will find a loving God who is willing to move heaven and earth to allow us to come back to him.

The prince of darkness wants to control us and lead us away from the Father. Shame is the perfect tool, especially for Christians. When he whispers shame into our ears he makes it sound spiritual, it feels like it is coming straight from God himself. Doesn’t it?

The scriptures tell us that “Nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus, our Lord.�� Romans 8:39

When shame, fear, condemnation and rejection start to swirl around you and weigh you down, bring this verse to mind and let it’s truth cover and protect you from the attack. God is not condemnation and fear. No matter what someone in your past has told you, no matter what you own inner voice screams at you, no matter what religious institution has smashed this lie into your heart, it is not true.

Jesus himself said the greatest commandment was “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your mind.�� Matthew 22:37

Look at what that verse doesn’t say. Fill in the blank all the things your own condemnation believes are more important than the command to simply love God. Each of us will have a different list but it is a list of lies. That list simply does not exist in the scriptures.

He will never force us to come into his presence or to serve him, he always gives us the choice. He isn’t waiting to condemn or shame us, but rather he is waiting to love us like we’ve never known.

He is waiting with his arms open wide!

Monday is coming and I have to write my regularly scheduled blog. The problem is, I’m all out of words. I have no more stories to tell. That’s because the deadline for my next novel is two weeks away. I’ve been writing it for a year, and it has turned out to be 130,000 words long. That’s a lot of words—which is why I’ve run out!

The novel is finished but I’m spending the final month editing and tweaking and putting in all the final touches. That means I haven’t gone anywhere in days. My friends think I’ve become a hermit. My family forgot what I look like. I have nothing cute or funny or interesting to say in a blog because I’ve been holed up in my office, working. But the day after I turn in this manuscript, I get to leave my work and cold, snowy Michigan for a vacation in Florida with my husband and our friends.

So, what’s my point? I have two. First, there are seasons in life when we need to dive into our work with everything we’ve got. As the scripture says, “whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord.�� Work isn’t a curse that we’re doomed to perform like slaves. When God enables anyone “to accept his lot and be happy in his work—this is a gift of God.�� But it shouldn’t consume our lives all year long, either.

Which leads to my second point—rest. God ordained rest, too. My Puritan ancestors would like me to feel guilty for sitting on a beach a few weeks from now when I should be working hard, giving my all, all the time. I’d like to remind those workaholic ancestors that God rested from His work on the seventh day. He wove the rhythms of work and rest into the fabric of creation. He doesn’t mind at all when we rest from our labors. Truly!

In case you’re wondering, the yet-to-be-named book that I’m racing to finish will be published in June of 2021. I know, that’s a very long time from now. But I’ve also completed another novel entitled “If I Were You,�� which will be out in June of THIS year. It takes place in London during World War II and has a bit of a “Downton Abbey�� feel to it.

So, here’s my advice. Work hard at what you do right now so when my book comes out next summer you can sit on a beach somewhere and read while you rest from your labors. And now . . . I need to get back to work.