Everyday Miracles
Lora Armendariz
  • Home
  • Blog
  • Lora's Writing
  • Recommended Reading
  • Prayer Requests
  • Contact Me

Miracles Happen Everyday

God daily shows us how special we are and how much He loves us.  Join me as I write about how my life and the lives of other people who have been touched by God's grace.

Follow Me on Facebook

Interview with Deborah Heal

8/17/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
God daily leads us to opportunities to grow and learn when our eyes, ears, and hearts remain open.  There has been two predominant themes in my writing these last couple weeks--the struggles of young people in our culture and remembering our faith in God to overcome fear. 

Deborah Heal is the author of young adult novels.  I met her in one of the Christian Books clubs on Goodreads.com.  When I visited her blog I was very upset to hear that she was being criticized by reviewers for not only addressing the subject of sex in her Christian novels, but also presenting her main characters as making the choice of abstinence before marriage. Click here to read the article.  But, even with the fear that her book sales might drop, Deborah Heal faithfully marches on in her choice to follow God's voice and write His truths into her novels.  My interview with her follows. 


Lora: I love your honesty, Deborah. Your blog has been happily bookmarked on my browser.

Deborah: Thank you, Lora. I'm so happy to meet you on FB and Goodreads. Thanks for liking my FB page. Are you referring to a specific article?

Lora: Yes, yesterday I read "Warning! Prudish Characters on Board." and I just wanted to give you a round of applause. Then I looked up your books on Goodreads and put them on my "Want to Read" shelf. There is no excuse for anyone who studies God's word to say they approve of sex before marriage and I love it that you didn't tiptoe around that issue when writing a young adult novel.

Deborah: What an encouragement you are! I felt down after my encounter with the two reviewers I mention in my article. It's wonderful to talk to others who believe the Bible and live by it. It's a rough world out there, isn't it? I think it's becoming increasingly easy for Christians to feel isolated, like they're the only ones holding to the truth.

I keep thinking of how Elijah felt in I Kings 19. How gracious God was to him in his depression and distress, assuring him, "Yet I have reserved seven thousand in Israel, all whose knees have not bowed to Baal." How cool that God used social media to connect me to you so that you could encourage me! Here's the Elijah story with one commentator's explanation. http://www.enduringword.com/commentaries/1119.htm

Lora: Your article reminded me of a recent conversation I had with some high school kids wanting to know if people should still remain abstinent before marriage. I had a long conversation with them about how my marriage was benefited by waiting for my one true love and how God put that rule in place for us to be protected physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It just hurts my heart that their are churches out their who are more interested in going with popular ideas and culture than with following God's word.

Deborah: Wow! What a great opportunity you had. It must be doubly hard for young people today to stay true, so keep on talking. I read an article some time back that was very encouraging to me as a parent. It referenced research that indicated that teens today are more receptive to adults' advice and modeling than in years past when there was more of a generation gap. (Even though they are still prone to roll their eyes while you're doing it.) I was so encouraged by that information as a parent and as a high school teacher. We won't know until Heaven how many people we influenced.

Lora: What made you start writing Christian Fiction?

Deborah: I believe (as C.S. Lewis did) that fiction can be a powerful tool for introducing and reinforcing the message of the Gospel, I consider my books a big part of my ministry to both Christian and non-believing teens. I tried to create characters that are realistic and imperfect, but also faithful Christians as worthy (even heroic) role models for teens.

Lora: My favorite characters in novels have always been those that seemed real to me and grew emotionally and spiritually throughout the story.  How do you think your novels come across for non-Christian readers?

Deborah: I've been careful all along to avoid using the sledgehammer technique for presenting biblical truth in my books. Even so, some of my critics find too much "God talk" in them. At times, I have to admit, I've been tempted to tone down the Christian elements in my future books. But then I remind myself that my job isn't to please everyone out there--only God. You thanked me for being courageous. I'm going to remember your words as I continue work with my next book. Thanks again for your encouragement!

Lora:  Since teens today are constantly bombarded by sex, so prominent in our culture today, I wonder how churches have chosen to approach this topic.  I know that most Christian books completely cut out sexuality and profanity, yet is that “hear no evil, see no evil” really helping our young people figure out what choices they want to make?

Deborah: I asked readers at the end of my article to comment about the teachings on this subject of churches they're familiar with. I'm hoping to prove to myself that my Episcopal friend is wrong about the extent of the liberal idea that sexual purity is passe in most churches. If any of your readers would like to chime in on this, they can do so in the comment section of my article.  Click on link.

Lora:  I look forward to reading your novels, Deborah and recommending them to young adults who are hungry to read truths about God and what He wants for us.  Do you have a specific technique you've used while writing? 

Deborah: I realize that no matter how much biblical truth I weave into my books, they still have to be well-written and have a good plot for people to read them. You can read about them here. Click on Link. If anyone would like to try one out, they can get Time and Again, the first book in the trilogy, for 99 cents.  Of course, I'm hoping they'll like it and go on and get the other books too. And I'm hoping readers will take the time to post reviews. Not only do reviews (positive ones anyway, lol) help sales, they are also such an encouragement to me that I'm on the right track.

Lora:  Thank you for taking the time to interview with me, Deborah.  God sees the works that you do and your fearless faith is a great example to all. 


Learn more about Deborah Heal, her writing, and her incredible live journey at http://deborahheal.com/
0 Comments

Buried Fear

8/16/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
“They say God made Australia last when he got tired of making everything else the same.”  Those were the words that rolled around in my head as Ayer’s rock loomed up in front of us.  There is no photo that does justice to the majesty of this place.  The domed mountain rises from the desert ground conspicuously different from land surrounding it.  As I gazed at Ayer’s Rock, my breath caught and I could feel God’s presence.

It was like marveling at butterfly coming out from a chrysalis or holding my newborn daughter’s hand and noticing her tiny flawlessness.  God has knitted together his creations with destined perfection. 

I love it that my husband and I have the courage to pack up our life and see the world.  But, this last weekend I had to battle my fear before we got on the roads.  Half of the 15 hour trip (one way) is on unpaved, isolated highways.  Engine trouble could result in being stranded for hours, or even a day, depending on when and who comes to your aid.  I already have an unreasonable fear of car accidents.  To top it off, I wasn’t thrilled about taking my toddler out of her routine for four nights in hotels and three days of driving. 

But, as I gazed at Ayer’s rock, a buried mountain in the middle of a desert, I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  Courage and faith got me out my comfort zone and God showed me his majesty. 

Isn’t that the way it always goes?  When we battle our fear and step out in faith, our world expands and God gifts us with experiences that we could never imagine. 

0 Comments

That Much Tougher

7/26/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
I was talking to a close friend of mine today, a military wife whose husband is going on deployment soon.  She made a comment that stopped me in my tracks, made me pause.  She said that her marriage and her faith in God were stronger now than before her husband entered into the service.  While she hated the thought of going through the long months without her loved one, worrying for his safety every moment, she was still thankful for those trying times.  Tears filled my eyes and my heart rejoiced.    Not only was her attitude positive, but she was also preparing her mind, heart, and soul for those months ahead through prayer and Bible study, sharing what she was learning with her husband .  Her choice to do all this instead of wallowing in self-pity and anger was inspiring.

Oh!  How I wish I could see all my trials this way

Sometimes I do.  Sometimes I remember to thank God for teaching me, for pushing me, for tossing away that comfortable security blanket I keep trying to throw over my head when presented with a task that seems more than I could ever handle.  Because God knows we can if we would only gently lean on Him. 

My friend, during her time on base, has watched the stresses of deployments and trainings rip and tare families and marriages.  Confronted with the months of surviving without their partner or parent, some desperately take paths that lead to intense hurt.  But others fight through the fire and emerge tougher, welded together through the heat, ready for whatever the world throws at them next.

God, show me the beauty of my trials!  Teach me to believe that you are ever shaping me into something better.  Help me to choose the paths that lead towards your glory and you precious plans for my life. 


Photo by Brett Jordan

0 Comments

Lost

7/13/2013

0 Comments

 
There might be nothing scarier than watching someone you love forget about God.  I was talking about this with a close friend of mine the other day.  Someone we love, a woman from the generation before us, is going through a time of struggle.  What we didn't understand was where God's voice in her life had gone.  She used to be one of those people that read her Bible daily and her walk with God was sweet and intimate.  Somewhere along the way she lost that connection and hasn't tried to get it back.

Why?

So much in her life has fallen apart.  But it happened slowly like an abandoned home--wind and rain crumbling away the structure and eating away at the foundation. 

You watch it happen to someone you love and you feel so powerless.  You know, and they know, that God will help them rebuild everything that is precious, but they have to be the one to take that first step.  Everyone around them is waiting with their hammers and fresh bricks and boards, eager to help them.  But the home doesn't belong to the eager helpers and they can't step on that property without permission.

Why?  How does this happen?  Besides the fact that I must watch someone I love struggle so much, do you know what else scares me?  The haunting possibility that somewhere down the road this might happen to me. 

When I was talking about this to my friend she said it seemed our lives go through seasons.  In the spring our walk with God is fresh and exciting.  The summer sees growth and warmth fill our relationship with him.  In the fall we look back at what kind of harvest those seeds of grace have brought to us.  And then, sometimes a winter creeps in. 

We empower the devil to bring the cold season into our life when we let the things of this world push God to the sideline.  His voice in our heart becomes harder for us to hear.  God is speaking to us just as loudly as ever, but our focus has fell to other things.  We have to stop and retrain our hearts to listen.

I pray daily for that loved one of mine. 

God still claims her as His child.  There is always hope for Spring again and all the glory that follows.

I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it.

Ecclesiastes 3:14


0 Comments

The Lord's Peace, the Devil's Turmoil

7/11/2013

0 Comments

 
Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

                                                        Philippians 4:6-7
Picture
The moment he stepped in the house, his eyes shining with excitement, and triumphantly asking, "Do you want to go to Argentina? I might have a job there."  I knew.  A wave of peace crossed over me and I knew that it was what we've been waiting for.  I hadn't even heard what the job was. 

But God had provided.  Here me and my husband had been anxiously going over and over our options, not able to decide where to go or what to do when he graduated from the university and it was only a couple months away.  He'd done well, he had a lot of great opportunities, but nothing felt right.  Then, when we saw Argentina on the horizon it felt like someone had gently showed how to get out of the maze and onto our life road.

Ok, I was excited and nervous as well, but the peace that we were doing the right thing overrode the other emotions.  Even when people told us we were crazy (and only slightly jokingly) I wasn't worried.  This was what God wanted for us and we were going.

However, it took only one phone call and my world broke into pieces of uncertainty, doubt, and grief.  Some one I loved and cared about deeply, a friend I kept close to my heart, had called me up to bluntly tell me she didn't want me to go.  She needed me to stay close.  She wanted to see my children be born and watch them grow up.  She wanted to have coffee with me and talk about books and go to the movies.  And you know what, I desperately wanted all those things too.

Getting on the plane suddenly seemed like a vehicle to broken relationships and hurt friendships.

I didn't talk to anyone about it for a while.  But, one day, sitting with a colleague at work I brought it up.  I told her I didn't know if I could go anymore.  The lady, a sweet friend and Christian seemed surprised, "But you were so excited, so certain about it, just a week ago."

I nodded and bit my lip.  "I don't think I'm doing the right thing by my family and friends though.  I just don't know anymore."

"Lora," she said seriously.  "We all have to make these big decisions.  Everyone does.  Do you know how God lets us know when we are going the right way?  Peace.  We'll have peace.  But the devil likes to destroy peace with uncertainty.  If you have doubts and worries now, they're not from God."

I blinked and suddenly remembered that feeling, that certain peace when my husband had told me about the job.  And after some prayer and deep breaths that peace washed over me again.  Argentina was the right road.

And it really was.  That whole 2-year experience changed my world.  It strengthened my marriage.  It reinforced my faith and cultivated my personal strength.  And all those friendships and relationships that I had then are still intact and even richer as we learned to share our lives over the di. 

But I wonder if I hadn't sat down that morning with my co-worker and bared my soul to her, if I would have gone at all.  God used her to help me understand what He had been trying to tell me all along. 

0 Comments

A Messy Life

6/28/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
It was just one of those days.  I had deadlines and to-do lists looming over me like Count Dracula.  I could even hear his voice,  "One deadline, ha ha ha....two deadlines, ha ha ha....three deadlines, ha ha ha."  And it seemed like each time I sat down in front of my computer and the words started to flow with any sort of creative sense my little girl would crawl up to my chair and start to cry.

I would grit my teeth together and clench my hands, feeling like a time-bomb ready to explode, the stress building up in me, toxic and deadly.  Any second and I would either burst into tears or run around like a crazy woman screaming. 

But there was no time for tears or craziness so I hacked away at my problems as my baby continued in her loud grumpy activities and I attempted to write while my creative juices were being sapped away by my on-edge nerves.

Then, lunch time came around, and that meant I should drop everything and heat up the squash and veggies and feed that grumpy baby.  Maybe if I fed her she would become quiet and tranquil again.  I hadn't heard her laugh all day. 

I set up my little munchkin in her high chair, prepped her food, and made a sandwich.  Then, like any good multitasking mom I attempted to type up a story and eat my sandwich while feeding my baby and having 1-on-1 time with her.  And, you guessed it, that just wasn't working.  I'd feed the baby a bite, take a bite of my sandwich, turn back to my keyboard and my girl would start slapping the table and wanting more. 

Seriously, I should have stopped there.  I should have forgot about everything except the baby and her food.  I should have even forgot the sandwich.  But I kept trying to be superwoman, growing ever closer to tears as everything seemed impossibly crumbling around me.  Then, when I had turned around in a vain attempt to type at least one stinking word on my silly little story I heard the sound that will aggravate every mom in the world...a squeal followed by a splatter, followed by a giggle. 

My motions were slow as I turned back around to see that, oh yes, I'd left that bowl of mashed veggies too close to her and now they were EVERYWHERE.  I blinked.  I gulped back my tears and my baby froze, staring at me, knowing something momentous had occurred and it very likely had to do with the squash and mashed potatoes in her hair, down her shirt, smeared on the high chair, and slopped over the table. 

And then, like sun cracking through the clouds, she smiled.  Then I smiled.  She giggled and something eased within my chest, the pressure being leaked out as I shook my head and laughed. 

It took me an hour to recover from that mess.  The baby still needed to be fed and then the disaster area and child both needed to be cleaned up.  And my munchkin and I took a break from my deadlines and to-do lists and found true comfort in our laughter and love for one another.  Strangely, the rest of the day was happy and quiet.  The baby wasn't grumpy but then, I wasn't either anymore. 

I think God gets frustrated when we try to shut out part of this world, especially the blessings He showers us with.  In a moment of extreme stress I didn't want to focus on anything but my problems while God was trying to draw me away from my worries with the beauty of a child He blessed me with.  Problems need to be taken care of and worries should be acknowledged, but never shut out joy.

You make known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence...

Psalm 16:11
0 Comments

Under the Knife

6/19/2013

0 Comments

 
Picture
I walked into the hospital clutching a brown paper bag of surgery supplies and trying to continue to breath.  Next to me my husband held my hand and my mother-in-law chatted away about how excited she was to meet her first grandchild.  But me...well, I was just trying not to dissolve into the weakness of a panic attack.

In my head I waged a war of battling fears.  How many times had I already told myself that everything would be fine?  So what if they had needed me to go buy my own anesthesia, gauze, etc and find my own blood donors?  Yes, in the States that would never happen but here it was common practice.  Babies still made it into the world...even in this hospital that didn't have soap in the bathrooms.  Breath.  It was ok.  God was with me.  But my emotions were being held together by threads as wispy as spider webs. 

Oh, God! I breathed those two words over and over.  Oh, God, Oh God.

Most of all, I needed to keep my mind off the horrors.  In the tiny hospital of a Patagonia town I was going to go under the knife as an over-worked gynecologist brought my daughter into the world.  The million and a half things that could go wrong danced inside my head like naughty little demons.


I could feel the terror building up inside me as the nurse came to take me away.  My husband gave me a kiss and Mamá hugged me, but they couldn't travel into the surgery ward with me.   I was alone.  The nurse talked away in Spanish and the words got all scrambled up in my head.  I could feel my breath coming short and shallow and begged myself to stay calm.  This will all be over soon. Everything is going to be fine.  Just fine.  I'll be holding my little girl before I know it.


Another surgery was underway and I was ushered into a room with a TV.  The nurse started me on an IV drip of something and I had no idea what was coming into me through the tube.  Whatever it was, it did nothing to calm me down and I could only stare blankly at the remote in my hand.  A jittery chuckle blasted from my trembling lips as I looked at it...nothing playing on TV could possibly help right now.  I closed my eyes and begged the fear away, feeling my strength beginning to crumble with my terror.

God, please, please, please.  Get me through this.  Let me stay strong and do whatever I need to do to help this go well.  Be with my daughter.  Be with the doctor.

Something eased within my chest...a completely unearthly feeling.. like a strange detachment and serenity came over me.  The anesthesiologist came in and smiled at me.  I smiled back.  When he spoke I was surprised that the Spanish words were no longer scrambled and bizarre.  He was talking to me about a cousin of his who had been to the United States.  It wasn't everyday an American woman opted to have her child in their small seaside town.  I asked him about the IV drip, thinking they must have started me on drugs since I felt so peaceful.  He laughed and said it was only nutrients since I had been fasting.   He was going to administer the epidural for the surgery. 

I didn't hardly feel the needle when he gave me the epidural but eventually I felt the medicine take over and I was wheeled to the surgery room.  Everything happened so fast.  A sheet went up.  A nurse reminded me not to talk.  And I laid there peacefully wondering at the calmness that had begun long before I had came into the room. 

Then I heard the most exciting sound in the world.  A little cry, one unhappy little whimper, and then a grumpy newborn with pudgy cheeks and black hair was nestled next to me.  I broke the rules and spoke.  How could I not? "Hello.  Wow, you're so beautiful.  Hello, love.  Hello."  I begged the nurse to tell me if she was ok and the lady laughed.  My daughter was perfect.  Oh, God, Thank you!


But I must not speak more, the doctor was still finishing the surgery.

That peace stayed with me even after they took my baby away, and finished the surgery.  It wasn't until I got back to my husband and saw the bundle in his arms that any tears came from my eyes.  The great waves of fear and anxiety washed over me in a gentle crest of emotion.  God had held back that storm.

"She's beautiful, Honey." My husband said.  I nodded, but couldn't stop crying for a while.  Finally I took a deep breath and took up that precious child in my arms.  Every baby brought into this world is a miracle and my daughter was no exception.    And I'll never forget that experience as God walked with me through my nightmares and held my hand until I was back in the light. 


"And surely I am with you always..."
                                    Matthew 28:20

0 Comments

Argentine Roses

6/12/2013

1 Comment

 
“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!  And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well."
                                                                                                    Luke 12:27-31
Picture
                  I was going to run away.  How?  I didn’t know.  We were living in the middle of Patagonia.  Spring had finally announced itself.  The weather was fair and the land was alive.  But looking out my window I could only see the barren vastness of ground stretching before me like a dreary future.  Everything that was wrong with my life teased and taunted the dreams I’d had before I’d come to Argentina. 

                Leaving the United States and getting on a plane headed for the Southern Hemisphere I had imagined I was going to be Kathleen Turner in Romancing the Stone, taking off to South American and writing a legendary novel.  Of course, I was leaving my sister, not going to save her; and my Michael Douglas was expecting me, had already did his best to make the ranch house cozy for his little wife.   The adventure was exciting at first—new people, new language, and new places.  But then reality set in and painted the landscape gray.  I saw people maybe once week and had trouble relating to all of them.  My Spanish that I was so proud of turned out to be pretty embarrassing and made normal conversation difficult at best.  And while we’d seen some beautiful land, I felt that I’d seen it all and now was ready to go home.

                My husband was busy those days.  He had land that needed extreme TLC before it could hold livestock and he was there only in the evenings and mornings, his mind always on the fences he was going to build and the cattle he was going to buy.  I was desperate.  We didn’t even have Internet or a phone so whining to my friends and beloved family was out of the question.  Even if had been a possibility, I didn’t want them worrying.  In one word…I felt abandoned.  I didn’t even have the heart to pray about it.

                Sunday came around and I broke out my Bible and tucked the chair next to the wood stove in my lonely weekly ritual.  But I couldn’t focus on anything except the sadness and despair that filled me.  Would I ever make friends?  Could I actually write the novel that had wormed its way into my heart?  And goodness, was I EVER going to have children?  Those nasty worries had grew into terrifying fears for me.

                I heard the truck pull up and put down the Bible.  Strangely, my man was home early.  Time to plaster on a smile and pretend I was doing just swell.   He came in with a grin and said, “Hey, you want to go for a drive?”

                I wanted to yell back, no.  I don’t want to go for a drive.  I want to crawl into a corner and mope.  I want to be left alone.  But I answered instead, “Sure.”

                He then gathered up a couple jars and my kitchen shears and I was too annoyed to ask him why.  I got in the truck and he started driving down one of the dirt roads.  We came over a hill and what I saw made me gasp. 

                A glorious rose bush spread out like a massive hill next to the road.  It looked extraordinary in the rocky, stubby countryside which was so dry that there was hardly any grass.  My husband pulled over and smugly asked me if I was surprised.  I was.  I really was.  As we gathered the roses for the jars, he told me what the neighbors had said about the bush.  Apparently it had been planted about a hundred years ago at the original site for the ranch house, but when that house had been abandoned and had crumbled away to nothingness, the rosebush had thrived, alone, for over thirty years.

                And then it hit me.  Who cared for all those glorious golden blooms?  God did.  I heard again the words written in the bible almost as if Someone gently whispered them in my ears.  “Consider how the wild flowers grow…not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these.  If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, …how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith!”

                I felt shamed by my lack of gratitude for God’s gentle protection of my daily life.  I felt exultant that all I needed to do was turn and ask him to care for me.  If he nurtured these roses, on this nearly deserted road, in a land that was only sparsely populated…couldn’t I trust him to care for me too?

                Hope bloomed within me and I felt a surge of peace blow the blues triumphantly away.  It was a turning point for me—a huge one in my life that I will never forget.  I hope someone somewhere sees those golden flowers and recognizes the magnificence of our Gentle Protector, our loving God. 

1 Comment
Forward>>
    Subscribe

    Author

    Lora is a Christian writer, wife, and mother who travels the world with her husband, living and working on ranches.

    Archives

    March 2016
    May 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    August 2014
    June 2014
    May 2014
    April 2014
    February 2014
    January 2014
    December 2013
    November 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013

    Categories

    All
    Abuse
    Angels
    Argentina
    Australia
    Babies & Children
    Babies & Children
    Beauty
    Bills
    Change
    Church
    Death
    Depression
    Easter And Good Friday
    Family
    Fathers
    Fear
    Fellowship
    Forgiveness
    Freedom
    Friends
    Habits
    Health
    Holidays
    Hospitals
    Idols
    Illness
    Love
    Marriage
    Military
    Mothers
    Nature
    Prayer
    Pregnancy
    Ranching
    Snow
    Strangers
    Stress
    Summer
    Surgery
    Teachers
    Travel
    Worry
    Writing

    RSS Feed

    Lee un blog en Espanol

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.