Lindsay Harrel--Guest Post

My Greatest Adventure: Loving a Lawyer:

By: Lindsay Harrel

First, just wanna say thanks to Jennifer for asking me to guest post. Several months ago, I started seeing this hilarious blogger popping up on several different sites I frequented. On one such site, I saw that she was making a trek through the southwest. I mentioned that I lived in Phoenix and the rest, as they say, is history.

Jennifer and I got the chance to get together this summer (yes, she chose to come when it was BLAZING HOT). We had a great time sharing our stories and our hearts at a Starbucks for several hours. Love this lady! She’s gonna do great things for God with her stories.

***

I’m not a *super* adventurous person. I kind of like to “play it safe.” I like things to be in order. I like to keep a schedule.

To me, adventure is scary, but it has great results, great rewards.

Sometimes, adventure is a one-time event, a trip, something that’s over by a specified date.

But other times, it’s a continuous thing. A constant laying down of security, a battle you face over and over again.

So what’s my greatest adventure?

Well, as you can tell by the title, it’s loving a lawyer.

My husband and I got married when we were 21 (me) and 22 (him). We’d both finished our undergraduate programs, but Mike was taking the LSAT exam when we were engaged. So I went into this marriage knowing he wanted to be a lawyer. And knowing we’d have to get through his law school together.

© Grafphotogpaher | Stock Free Images

One of my biggest fears going into marriage was that my husband wouldn’t have enough time for me, especially since he wanted to be in a profession that is so demanding. Being an attorney takes all of someone. It’s one of those jobs that you can never feel caught up on, and that you never can stop thinking about, even when you’re home.

I knew this, yes. But there’s a difference between knowing it and living it out.

His first year of law school (which started about nine months after we got married), we saw each other for fifteen minutes a day. Dinner time. That was it. I’d work all day, he’d go to school all day, and then he’d study at night.

Then, after graduation, he got a job. (For which I’m so thankful! Seriously.) He’s a government lawyer, so he doesn’t work nearly the hours someone would work at a private firm.  But still, there have been so many times he’s had to work late. Times when I missed him so much and just wanted ten minutes together.

But God’s challenged me lately with something.

I’m supposed to be Mike’s helpmate. That means that my first job in life, after following God’s will, is to help my husband with his mission. I’m supposed to help make him successful. To make his life easier if I can.

I’m not supposed to complain and make him feel guilty when he comes home late for the hundredth time because he had a brief that was due to the court.

I’m not supposed to expect him to take off days on a whim to hang out with me, especially if he’s got a trial calendar approaching.

I’m not supposed to sigh in frustration when he starts talking about work.

Instead, I should love him. Respect him. Remember that in many ways, he’s doing all of this to support me. So that I feel safe. In fact, working hard at his job is one way my husband serves me and shows me he loves me. (And let me just say, my husband shows me this in other ways too. He’s really generous and sweet to me.)

I’m sure this will become even more difficult to remember when I’ve got kids and need a break and he’s not able to help at that moment.

And I know that if it ever became a big enough issue, I have an open door to address it with him. I can talk to him about anything.

But like I said, God’s challenged me about my attitude. I love my husband, respect the job he does and who he is.

And isn’t every adventure a challenge, really?

A challenge that shapes and changes you.

A challenge that makes you better.

The chance to love a lawyer—and not just any lawyer, but Mike Harrel—is an adventure I never deserved, but an adventure I hope to live up to, with God’s help.

Your Turn: Do you sometimes find it hard to look at the effect that attitude can have on your circumstances? What has been your greatest adventure?

Since the age of six, when she wrote the riveting tale “How to Eat Mud Pie,” Lindsay Harrel has passionately engaged the written word as a reader, writer, and editor. She holds a B.A. in Journalism and Mass Communication and an M.A. in English. In her current day job as a curriculum editor for a local university, Lindsay helps others improve their work and hones her skills for her night job—writing inspirational contemporary fiction. Lindsay lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband of five years and two golden retriever puppies in serious need of training.

Blog: http://lindsayharrel.blogspot.com/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/LindsayHarrel

Twitter: @LindsayHarrel:

Lookin' BAD!! The pre-trip vlog and reason I'm ditching Canada...

  Okay, I know I look fab-yoo-liss, but, seriously, whatever. I figured I won't care how I look in Bolivia, so why not let you experience the jaw dropping shock of how white my eyelashes are?

That, and I just look downright amusing with the glare from the computer screen. Oh, and notice the hockey gear behind me? Yeah. Not my fault. The pile of laundry on the couch is my fault. I promise that by the time you see this, it'll still be there.

Take care, please, please pray for the team, the roads can get really interesting.

Really interesting.

See you all in November!!

I'm off to Bolivia in ONE WEEK!!!

In exactly one week, I'll board a flight in Fredericton, fly to Toronto, then to Panama City and then from Panama, we fly south to Bolivia.
Oh my flaming , gigantic WORD!!! I cannot express to you the excitement!! I've waited two very long years to go back to Bolivia. I have dear friends there who I miss very much.


 Let's see? Adelia Chumacera, Hector and Steffi Mamani and Tio Felipe, just to name a few.
We're in for an extreme amount of driving on this trip. We'll probably put in about 800 miles at an average of 25 miles an hour on one lane mountain roads, full of switchbacks, stunning views and zillions of llamas. 

We'll take 1200 solar powered, fixed tuned, short wave radios to the far flung Quechua villages, deep in the High Valleys of the Bolivia Andes.  We'll sleep on floors and Thermarest mattresses. We'll eat bowl after bowl of goat stew for lunch and dinner and our own oatmeal for breakfast and bedtime snack.

 We'll be stared at, hugged, kissed and watched by hundreds and hundreds of Quechua Indians who, for most of them, have never seen any foreigners, let alone a redhead!! The kids will giggle and the elderly people will stare in wonder that outsiders cared enough to come visit. 

You want to know the best way to show Christ's love? Speak to the old, old Quechua who cannot comprehend WHY you are there. Say "Buenos dias" and shake their hand. Hold a baby. Let a 12 year old girl help you do something, anything, and say "gracias amiga" over and over. Take their picture with your digital camera and watch them blush at seeing themselves.

Love is communicated by grace, kindness, respect and a radio that brings them the message of Jesus. That's what we do.

Our teams have taken in 33,000 radios and touched as many as 990,000 Quechua people with the Gospel.

I am proud of and humbled by the chance to do this job again.

Turkey and stuffing and cheesecake, oh MY!

Good morning my peeps.
Like the new picture?
<<< It's over here. I probably just pointed at the back ground photo.

*Peeps* is street for "people".
 Seriously? Did I have to explain that to someone who builds airplane parts? I did. So sad when the old people forget meaningful cultural references.
Then again, some people were amazed I could call the USA. On my phone. Read that again. I know, right? No matter how cute you are, I'll still laugh whenever I think that you were slightly surprised to know we have PHONE LINES up here that connect to the Lower 48.

Anyway, since we've outted a few reasons to razz one or two of you...it's time to grow up and say...

Happy Thanksgiving from your devoted Canadian bloggerista!! 


Things I'm thankful for today?

-my health, even though I'm sore and stiff right now.
-my husband , even though he snores. Alot. Whoa. Dude, it's a good thing I'm in love with you, because...wow. That was LOUD. 
-my kids, even though they eat us out of house and home.
-the health of my family, especially our parents. John's dad will be 96 this Christmas. NINETY SIX???
-good friends who keep me sane. Ish. Sane-ish-like.
-good friends who love me even though I'm crazy.
-a great church and an awesome pastoral team.
-a new phase in life where writing a book is no longer a dream, but a reality.
-for writer friends who've become sisters and keep me grounded and aware of the world around me, and amuse me to no end. And a writer brother or two, too! 

And in all seriousness, I am deeply, profoundly thankful for a true and pure miracle last night. The Ford Explorer carrying my friends' three sons, and the girlfriends of two of the boys, on a long drive home from a family wedding went off the highway and flipped over, landing on the roof. The roof caved in, all four windows blew out and the RCMP found all five kids hanging upside down in their seatbelts. No, none of them had been drinking. Not even a sip.

All five ended up in the ER. They were CAT-scanned and x-rayed and then all five walked out to their parent's cars and went home, safe, sound and only slightly bumped up.

The RCMP were stunned to get five, conscious, alive kids out of that truck.

Do not, for one split second, dare to tell me that miracles don't happen anymore.

I know the names of five of them. 

I CONFESS THAT I COMPLETELY POACHED THIS IDEA!!!

I poached this idea from Keli Gwyn from her lovely website over at   http://keligwyn.com



That got me to thinking, I'm leaving, sniff, in 2 weeks....


I'm not much of a Nicolas Cage fan, but John and I decided, EONS ago, that this was OUR song...



Thank you Trisha Yearwood.

The pretty part of pain.

I have a confession to make.
I had some serious, butt whupping anger come out yesterday.
Like, you are fortunate to not be ANYWHERE near me.

Something happened that hurt, and hurt tremendously.
It was the "slap in the face" kind of hurt that makes you blink and walk backwards.
A pain that caused me to question alot about myself.

I lay in bed and wondered WHY what was said was so painful. Why did I take such deep offense to something that was not intended to go in deep and twist a few times.

I realized that even now, at the age of 49, I'm still in touch with myself at 2 1/2.

Someone dear to me said something silly, innocuous and innocent. 

It WAS poorly timed and stupid, but really Jennifer, you're pushing 50, shake it off! 

Right?
Wrong.

Very wrong.

It boiled down to a little girl who was hurting. A small child whose male parent left and never came back.
And to long buried memories of a friend who lied, lied, threatened and lied and used MY name.

How the words my friend said yesterday equated what happened 47 years ago, and 27 years ago, is something that only the rabbit trails of the human mind can justify.
This meant that, that referred to this, that reminded me of that and BAM!!
Someone's gonna PAY!

A few emails were sent and finally a very heated phone conversation. Did I mention I haven't been that angry in ages?

But... I didn't want to upset this person.
But I was angry.
But nice girls don't get mad.
But I was MAD!!!!
But I wanted to really get in some kind of serious sword play or at least throw some rocks!
I was hurt, don't I have rights???
Lines in my sand box had been drawn decades ago. They had been crossed!! How could this happen??


The friend's response to me was roughly "go ahead, fire away, we both need you to fire at will". 

So, I did.
And it went well.
But only for me.


But the best part of this whole episode was NOT getting angry and ranting and sand blasting someone I love, it was the sound that comes after the fireworks. 
When the spent gunpowder and blown up bits paper fall through the air and land softly on the cool grass.

That "ahhhh" moment when everything has settled and we knew we were okay. When the tears had dried, when the echo of harshness was answered with the sound of laughter and good natured teasing.

When the ugly side of pain was turned over and I could see the beauty that had taken root and grown quickly into an even more beautiful garden.

I don't know how long I'll have with that friend, but whatever time I have left won't be wasted pulling weeds and shoving them back and saying "remember when you hurt me?".

I'll choose to hold tight to the fresh air after the rain, when God opens His hands, shines down the sun and makes a sea of diamonds. 

The fairest of them all...edit.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?


I went to my other blog today, I don't visit much anymore, but I still try to pop in and say hello.

I used to be "friends" with someone on there who is basically blind, stinking, ridiculously over the top, loaded beyond words... RICH.

I met him through another friend, we'll call her Sarah.
Sarah died two years ago from cancer. She was 25. Her family was a royal mess, but it was big and loud and they loved her. The family was molded rather than made. Two women who were friends from their childhood years stayed together through thick and thin. One was happily married with a few kids. One flitted around the world then had a fling with a married man and left him behind after some summer fun and marriage wrecking.
She didn't know for about 6 months that she was pregnant and was completely shocked to be told she was going to be a mother. She came flying home and was grabbed into her best friend's arms and it was there that she found her place. Sarah grew up with 2 mothers, one father and 2 sets of grandparents and brothers and sisters all intertwined line a vine. No beginning, no end, just lots of love in the long, winding, loving story. 
When Sarah was in university, her "brother", (the un-related kids in the clan referred to each other as siblings their entire lives) died of cancer, and it devastated her whole, huge clan.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Sarah was diagnosed with cancer. It was all over the place. They nuked her and fried her and the doctors did everything possible to save her. She went through that TWICE.
Then was given the all clear and went back to university.

Then she got chicken pox and was in the hospital for a month.
Her birth mother came to her bedside, took one look at her ONLY CHILD and said "I can't deal with this."
And left.
For 6 weeks.
She went sailing in Greece.

Poor sweet Sarah. She was diagnosed with cancer again.
I poured my heart into that girl, as did quite a few others from the blog site. Her touchable and virtual friends loved her long and hard from all across the world.

She was friends with the rich boy, who jetted all over the world, chasing cancer treatments and surgeries and receiving all kinds of cutting edge treatments that were far beyond the reach of Sarah. This young kid also faught HARD to stay alive, but he DID have an edge.
A really impressive,expensive edge.

Don't tell me that he didn't.
Don't tell me they had the same chance.
Don't tell me Sarah wasn't angry.
She was.
She told me so.
More than once.

One day, I got an email from her telling me she'd been declared cancer free, but was still in the hospital.

She was a nanny for a posh family in Europe and missed the kids very much while she was in treatment. Her doctors gave her permisson to take the kids to a movie while on an evening pass from the hospital. They went in late. She was bald and weak and they were aided by the kind theatre staff who sat them in the back row.

She felt tired after the movie and went to bed in her hospital room. That night, after sharing a fun evening with the kids, she had a massive stroke. Her heart failed the next day, and she died.

Her body was spent.
The cancer was gone, and so was her strength.
She had literally died of exhaustion.


I saw today's post from the young man.
He had some kind of surgery and since his infection was gone, he and his wife went to Europe. 
Yes, it appears he is still sick.
I KNOW that.
But his bills are taken care of by his wealthy family.

The demon of financial worry does not haunt him. It doesn't keep him from seeking treatment. The burden of selling their house to keep him alive doesn't cloud which drugs he takes for pain.

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND why my dad struggles each day with pain.
Why my biological father walked away from 3 children.
I do not understand why my friend has a chronic, painful condition that has wiped her out for months.
I do not understand why me and half my female friends are on some kind of anti-depressant.

Understand this, pay attention, listen to me...if I did not take my meds, my life would NOT be what it is now.

And yes, I sure did pray about it.

One's level of faith DOES NOT EQUATE HIS OR HER STATION IN LIFE!!!!!

Why do some people have everything and others have nothing?
Why does that kid from the blog have the resources to keep fighting and win, when others have nothing?

The thing is.
None of us deserve anything.
Neither good, not bad, none of us DESERVE one sweet thing in this world.

God GIVES us HIS grace.
He gives us His love.

Which is good.
Because I cannot afford to buy what it takes to please God. Because nothing *I* can DO can impress Him.
It is what I can accept FROM Him!
It's what HE gives ME!!!!

How cool is that?

He gives me His love, His grace and His mercy.
And He takes my life and makes it His.

I can only give it back to Him.

Steven Spielberg says hi!!!

My life in pictures. Plus free edit!!

I sent my proposal and sample chapters in yesterday.This is how it felt last night.

This is how I felt all day.

This is how I felt late this afternoon when I got two emails from two different people within 6 minutes of each other.

I called my husband at his office. I love him. He let me be me.

Then I emailed some of my peeps.

I said...

"Yo. Sup? I feel awful."

They said...

"What are we? We're..."

YEAH BABY!!!!

Another one said...

"How are you doing?"

I said I wanted a party.

It was a short one.

I love my not-legally-adopted-yet big brother.

I should inform my had-him-for-my-whole-life brother that he isn't alone anymore.

So? How do I feel now?? Now that my husband and my peeps have cheered me up?

I went back and read the emails. REALLY looked at what they said.
I let their words of wisdom sink in.
Learning is all about rolling with the hard stuff and wrestling it back into submission.
So?

That saddle is empty. It's time to get back in!!

Why?

My King is why.

*

And four words sung out to me...

"Your writing is brilliant".

How's THAT for encouragement???

Words of a martyred pastor.

This poem was read by a young missionary friend in church yesterday. It was written by a Zimbabwean pastor prior to his martyrdom.

I'm part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
 I have the Holy Spirit power. 
The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. 
The decision has been made--I'm a disciple of His. 
I won't look back, letup, slow down, back away, or be still.
 My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure.
 I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, worldly talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity.
 I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded.
 I now live by faith, lean in His presence, walk by patience, am uplifted by prayer, and I labor with power.


My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my roads narrow, my way rough, my companions are few, my Guide reliable, my mission clear.
 I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed.
 I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the enemy, pander at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ.
 I am a disciple of Jesus.
 I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. 

And, when He comes for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me...my banner will be clear!

Knock me over with a hummingbird feather!!!

Oh my word.

OH.
MY.
WORD.

OHMYWORD!!!!!!!!!!


Check this out.....

A few verses from the Book of Jennifer.

Happy Friday to you!!

I hope your week went well.

It's been up and down for me, but it's Friday!!!

I've enjoyed visiting Jenny Hale at jenniferkhale.com for her Bright Side Blog Bash. She and Lacie Nezbeth at lacienezbeth.blogspot.ca, hosted a great week for those of us writers who didn't make it to ACFW in Dallas.


Since being asked for a proposal and samples, I've begun planning my life as I think it should play out.



These are my commandments, thus sayeth me and these shall come to pass.....

First, my husband will shave his AWFUL beard.
No, it has nothing to do with writing, but I hate the beard.

Second, I'll be BEGGED for a full manuscript from all the Big Houses and a bidding war will ensue. My agent, who also begged to be near me, will call me in a lather and announce that I've set a record for debut novels and I can go ahead and plan that new bathroom reno AND hire an architect to make our house a dream home.A-N-D the skunks will move into my sister's house. Which is roughly 3000 miles from here. The skunks can go on United Airlines.

Third-my little town will re-name itself, "Jenniferland". How cool is that?

Fourth-I will magically lose 50 pounds and wake up making the Duchess of Cambridge want to be more like me.

Fifth-JK Rowling and I do lunch and talk shop.


I might add some maps too.




Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd then I wake up and realize that my hair is giving directions to the pillow and school stars in an hour!!

The glamour! The thrills! The laundry!!!!

Let's look at what the Lord says in Jeremiah 29:11, shall we?


For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."



 It seems that His plans offer us hope and a future. His hope. His future. His idea of prosperity. But it doesn't mention wealth, does it? For some of the people I love, life itself is enough.

It sure is nice to know He has it all figured out.

BIG NEWS!!!!!

Because of a comment on a blog, I've been asked to send a proposal and sample chapters to an acquisitions editor at a small publishing house...

Breathe.
Just.
Breathe.

And THEN scream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dust Bunnies!

In 2009, I went on my second trip to Bolivia. Most of the team was from my church. 

Now, most teenage girls like to have an older female friend, who isn't their mother, to talk with, confide in, pal around with and generally be friends with, without the mother /daughter vibe going on.

Two girls in my church seem to think I'm cool. Probably only two, but I digress.

And the best thing, is that both of their Moms are very good friends of mine, so they trust me with their daughters.

At the time this photo was taken, my own daughter was deep, deep, DEEP in rebellion towards my husband and I.

As my daughter was fading away, these two came alongside me and loved me down a lonely road. 


That was three years ago. The one in the middle, Shannon, is off to college. I miss her alot! The one on the end, Melissa, just got back from a mission trip to Israel and Slovakia. She's also been to Nepal and Bolivia. Shannon has been to Bolivia and Haiti. They've done more mission work than 90% of the adults I know!!

Prior to this photo being taken, we drove from a town deep in the mountains and the ride down took several hours and one guy stopped counting switchbacks at 72. Or maybe there was 72, anyway, it was LONG and twisty!

The dust there is like brown icing sugar. We were utterly filthy!!



I called us the Dust Bunnies.

I sat alone in church this morning, which was perfectly fine, not a problem at all. But after a few minutes, I saw a very clean version of Melissa sit down next to me. She was all smiles and happy to see me. I was quite happy to see her too.


I love these girls like they were my own.

Te amo Bolivia!!!

Our director Alex Muir, his son Greg Muir who is a missionary with the Quechua Indians, and a lovely Quechua lady we met. Greg is about 5'9.

Waiting in a small village for their radio. It was about 100F. There were about 300 people who came.

My dear brother Hector Mamani Albino. One of the finest people I've ever known. EVER. He has the heart of a lion. And he never stops smiling.

Brenda Swann Phinney. She knit all of these sweaters. You see the love? I was there. Those kids were stunned beyond words that a gringa gave them such treasures.

This dear man stayed for the entire time we were there, in the village of Tusquina. On crutches. In serious heat. Just because we were there. 

Woody Scott, from New England.

Those boys stood around until Woody smiled and asked for their help. He's a trained, professional Grandfather. That one touch on that boy's shoulder, that "well done" sent him to the moon. I'm not sure if he came back.

  

A goat trail from Mojon Khasa to the road. It went 1000 feet UP. At 15,000 feet, the oxygen level in the air was 40% less than we were used to. It was a lung burning, brain frying, leg killing hike. My heart was POUNDING. Then we saw a Quechua man carry our generator up the trail on his back.

How we travel in-country.

And why prayer is EXTREMELY important!!

Like, REALLY important!!

Just love them. That's all. Oh, and jump rope at 15,5000 feet and not die.

This is Willian. Yes, with an N. He has cerebral palsy. Ian's brother is autistic. Ian LOVED that little boy and that showed the entire village that we meant what we said.

But if you think Ian loved him? Kelsey literally cried for DAYS when we said good bye to him.

Te amo Boliva.

I'll see you in FIVE WEEKS!!!!

This is the day...

That the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Yes, I know what today is. I know the events that made a sea change in American history toward a more frightening place.

I've heard some people talking about the End Times and earthquakes and famine and on and on. Any day now, Jesus will come back.

Or will He?

End times? Wars without end?

The thing is, why not go back to 1930's Germany. All was quiet and then a new Chancellor came to power and before they knew it, by 1945, 6 million Jews were dead. Thousands upon thousands of people tried to hide their Jewish friends. Some succeeded, some died alongside them. Gypsies were killed. Poles were killed. Communists were killed.
Children and adults with Down's Syndrome were killed.
Deaf people were killed.
Blind people were killed.
Anyone who wasn't perfect, was killed.
Betsie ten Boom was killed.
Deitrich Bonhoeffer was killed.

Stalin's record was even worse. He killed at least 20 million of his own people. Gulags. Pogroms. Death upon miserable death.

Wars without end?

Uganda
Rwanda.
Somalia.
Chechnya.
Bosnia.
Northern Ireland.
El Salvador.
Guatemala.
Argentina.
East Timor.
Laos.
Viet Nam.
Cambodia.
North Korea.
Iraq.
Afghanistan.


Seeing a pattern?

God sees the pattern.

It looks like this.

Lord I come
Lord I thank you
For your love
For this grace divine
Love and mercy
Undeserving
You gave it all
The greatest sacrifice

You were wounded
For my sin
And You were bruised
For all my shame
You were broken
For my healing
Only by the cross
I'm saved

You're the mender of the broken
To every outcast
A friend and comforter

I come boldly to your presence
Lord I bow before your throne
You're my healer
My redeemer
You're my hope, my life, my all

You hear the cry of the broken
You hear the cry of the broken
You hear the cry of the broken


You answer the cry of the broken
You answer the cry of the broken
You answer the cry of the broken

I do not pretend to have any answers for anyone.
I just know Jesus has them.
He may not tell you the answers you want or need, but He's got everything else covered. Including YOU.

Just for Heather Gilbert!!

Tip of the day?

Turn ON the lights when shooting a video.
Then you won't look like you just ate 5 pounds of blueberries.

And brush your hair.
And teeth.
And back up.