The Power of a Story

Do you believe a story can change the world? 

I do. I always have. Stories have influenced my thinking, my heart, my view of the world since I was little. I so loved the transportation that came from a well told story that I named my cat Princess Scheherazade, after the heroine of Arabian Nights, when I was 11. Even as a young girl I admired the power and charm of a woman so able to wield words as to hold her captor captive.

I still believe words have power to charm, inform, captivate. Maybe that's why I'm so excited about being able to work on a project that uses words for good. CausePub, a new crowd publishing company, is using stories not only to engage the lives of people who read them but benefit people from the profits of the book. Brilliant!

Do you have a story to tell? I bet you do! At CausePub we're looking for stories of a time you rebelled against your couch, stepped out of your comfort zone and did something. It could be simple or extravagant. Whatever it is, we want to hear it.

Hop over to CausePub  and check the project out. If your story is chosen to be published in the book you will receive a portion of the proceeds from the book's sale. We've also partnered with Blood: Water Mission and they will receive 50% of the profit. If 15,000 books are sold it will provide 45,000 people in Africa with water for a year! That's a story worth telling!

Do you believe in the power of a story? Why not join us in telling stories and spreading the word!

How do you use your influence?

Business bullied my heart this week and pressing responsibility squeezed tight. The littlest one bore the brunt of it. She usually does. As I felt the crush of expectation, mostly my own; and drive to accomplish, my words turned sour and sharp. How could I think about, write about, celebrate mercy, and yet so shamefully neglect to give it? 

I'm reminded once again that I am sorrowfully broken, so easily misguided. Even the best of my intentions, without God breath, are a puff of dust leaving a dry taste in the mouth. 

Perhaps that easy distraction, a slipping into the love of boxes and rules instead of truth, isn't so new a problem. In Acts Paul mentions a group of women, devout, God fearing women, who were easily stirred up to love their own way more than the truth.

And so the Word of the Lord [concerning eternal salvation through Christ] scattered and spread throughout the whole region. But the Jews stirred up the devout women of high rank and the outstanding men of the town, and instigated persecution against Paul and Barnabas and drove them out of their boundaries. Acts 13:49-50

The truth of Christ is always met with opposition. What is scary is that it can be met with opposition even in the most devout. Truth always requires a response, a bending with or standing opposed. It strikes me in this passage that the women mentioned had the opportunity to affect the whole community, for good or bad, with their actions and words.

Do I realize, do you realize, the power our words and attitudes, actions and choices have on those around us? Our children are watching, our husbands listening, the young women we teach, the facebook community we interact with, the women we have coffee with, they are all influenced by us.

Women are influencers with the power to "instigate". Sometimes it's hard to look in the mirror, but I think this question bears attention. How are we influencing? Are our words negative, biting into the heart of those listening, leaving behind a trail of doubt and cynicism; are they self exalting; are they colored with rigid religion, fear, or pride?

Or do our words wash others with an outpouring of hope, fresh as rain, quenching parched hearts. Do we speak of mercy, forgiveness, trust? Do we confess our fears and weaknesses, doubts and lack of understanding in humility? Do we celebrate the spread of Christ's eternal salvation, for all people?

Our influence as women in our communities is powerful and not to be taken lightly. I'm convicted regularly how short I've fallen, how careless I've been with such a sacred trust.

I'd love to hear from you. How do you guard your influence? Do you have women in your life who hold you accountable? 

You can leave a comment here or head over to the Allied Women website and join in the conversation in the Mentoring forum. We would love to have you!

Women Who Inspire ~ The Sisterhood

Sister - (from dictionary.com)

adjective 

12. being or considered a sister; related by or as if by sisterhood: sister ships.
13. having a close relationship with another because of shared interests, problems, or the like.

I have been undeniably blessed by precious women in my life. Some close family, some that have lived before my time, some have rubbed me hard smoothing away jagged edges, some young, some old, some who know my heart deeply and still love me, some I've never met. But all sharing a common relation, fellowship birthed from the blood of Jesus. Sweet family. A gift. These women have so energized my Christian walk I just had to introduce some of them to you. (I hope you will post a comment and tell me about the women who have blessed your life as well.)

This week's sister:

It has been over a year since I've written in this series about sisters. I thought it was time to bring it out and dust it off. 

Today's sister is Carol Matthews. Dr. Matthews was my psychology professor in college. Looking back over fifteen years I imagine at the time she wasn't older than I am now. With long golden hair, trim figure, and pleasant smile she stood out from the other professors at school, mostly older men in suits. I admired Dr. Matthews. She was soft spoken, clever, and funny. 

There's an encounter with Dr. Matthews that will always stand out to me as one of the most powerful conversations of my young life at the time. It taught me the weight of words and of other people's expectations. I wrote down her words in my journal, I wish I knew where it was to reference, but I remember the basics of the conversation.  

It was during an interviewing for a school newspaper article, I don't even remember the story now. I felt that I had let her down academically on a recent test and my response had not been gracious. So I began our conversation with an apology. She stopped me and made it clear that there wasn't a problem between us. In fact she went on to say, "I expect you to go on in life and do great things. I have taught hundreds of students every year. I can't remember them all and only a handful ever standout. You're one of them. I expect to hear you have done great things."

I was flabbergasted, and so blessed. I have never forgotten the gift of her statement. When I quit school and felt like a failure, when I worked part time at an oil refinery in Pennsylvania, when I lived in the basement of friends with just enough to make ends meet, I remembered those words. I wanted to live up to them, to make them a prophecy that became a reality.

As I've matured I've realized that the definition of great things can change. What I thought was a great thing at 19 and what I think of as a great thing now are very different. I don't know what Carol Matthews had in mind when she spoke such a benediction of encouragement over me. But I did learn that when we speak belief, hope, and high expectation over someone they will yearn to live up to it. 

I wish I could thank Dr. Matthews all these years later for encouraging an awkward, inexperienced girl. I doubt she would remember me now. But I imagine an appropriate thanks would be to seek out opportunities to do the same with my words for others. 

Has there been someone in your life who spoke words of hope or blessing, encouragement or belief over you that have made a difference to your heart? I'd love to hear about it!

Maggie of Scotland

I'm thankful for imagination and for family heritage, these two thing prompted this short story as part of a writing competition. My mother's family settled in South Carolina 250 years ago. I like to imagine what motivated them to leave their wild Scottish homeland for a new world. Who were they, how did they live, what did they feel, I've always wanted to know...

Once upon a time. Isn't that how all good stories begin? There was a girl with cascading auburn curls, emerald eyes, and a smile that flashed wild. Maggie had insighted the hearts of many a lad. But it had always been Alan who held her fancy.

Today she whistled as she made her way home; adventure sparkling in her heart. Maggie's bare feet had memorized the winding dirt path like a familiar friend from childhood. Her dark blue skirts swished around her thin ankles as she skipped up the grassy brae to the white cottage she shared with her little sister, brothers and Da'. After dinner she was meeting Alan by the stream beyond the cow pasture to say goodbye.

Banging into the snug cottage where crates stood ready she called out, "Da', where are ye?" No answer. He must be driving the cows home. Angus McKay was purchasing the lot this evening to add to his great herd. The cottage stood silent with a mantel of stillness draped over it's solid walls. Matthew, John, and Alice were most likely off saying goodbye to their playmates. 

Leaving Scottland was hard on the younger ones. They didn't understand the difficulties Da' faced nor the promise of hope in the new world. For many of her countrymen the promise of a better life in the American colonies stood in stark contrast to the economic hardship at home. The sorrow of leaving Scotland, where she and decades of Bankheads had lived in the same whitewashed cottage, was tempered by the fact that many of her towns people and relatives would be seeking their fortune in the colonies as well. Her father's cousins James and Matthew had promised to settle with Da'. Many farmer's leases from Lord Doneagal expired this summer and tenants would no longer be able to afford the increasing rent. It was a matter of survival. 

Maggie started a fire in the low hearth to cook her family's supper one last time. She had ladled piping hot stew into tin bowls and placed a large, round crusty bread in the center of the table by the time her siblings came tumbling through the door. A smile spread across her fair face at the racket of her younger brother's good natured argument and Alice's sing-song mocking of the two. 

"All right ye daft bunch, settle down! Why are ye carrying on so?"

"The foolish boys are fighting over who will get the top birth on the boat. I told them they will likely sleep on the floor," piped Alice.

"Ye will sleep where there's room for ye, that's what. Mind Da' boys and see yer no trouble to him." Maggie ruffled fifteen year old Matthew's ruddy head. He was growing as tall as their father but he still needed reminding of his responsibilities. The new world would hold a great deal of promise for a growing boy like Matthew. 

Maggie ate her stew listening to her sibling's chatter. Excitedly they talked about the ocean passage and what life would be like in their new home. Father and his two cousins had secured land grants in the Carolina's from the crown. Their Da' had been successful with his herd, expanding the barns and cottage. He had laid enough by to purchase passage to America. It was a good thing too because despite his success with the cows, and respect in the village, it still wouldn't be enough to pay the increased rent and taxes on their land.

As soon as dinner was done and the young ones were set to their chores Maggie went tripping down the brae to see Alan. She called out a soft cooey as she shimmied over the low rock wall and then picked her way across the stepping stones of the small brook. Alan emerge from behind the stand of alder. 

A lump rose in her throat as his tawny hair caught the late gleam of sunshine above his broad shoulders. Running to catch his hand she took off with Alan through the gloaming. One last chase through the heather of her homeland. As they laughed and ran past the hills of green, Maggie let the beauty sink into her soul, becoming a part of her very pulse. Flinging themselves breathless on the springy turf, the mist of the evening rolling in, she drank in Scotland as the evening wrapped them in a shroud of soft sorrow. 

Turning her head she looked into his eyes, blue as the sea that would take her from him. "I'll be coming for ye, Maggie lass. America is a braw land and good. Father says that in a year we'll have the passage. I'll come to ye then." 

Her hand reached out to touch his strong jaw, aching at the parting, thrilling in his nearness. How she hoped he would come. Her heart would cling to that hope and believe, it was the only way she could say goodbye. It was late when she crept to the cottage. She watched Alan melt away into the darkness, his hand stretched out in a last farewell. 

After two day's travel James, Maggie, Matthew, John and Alice Bankhead set foot on The Edinburgh bound for Cape Fear, North Carolina. As the ship pulled away from the quay and headed out to the open sea Maggie turned away from the green coastline of Scotland and set her face to America. Salty tears stung her eyes. The scent of adventure rose around her, bracing her heart.

The voyage passed slowly; adventure wore thin. After a few weeks at sea they were nearing America and a desperate fear had wound around Maggie's heart. The silent reality of meeting a new world with a new life growing inside of her cast a shadow of worry across her brow. Her cousin Bess had noticed the thin lines growing around Maggie's mouth and taut shoulders. 

Asking her about it on deck one evening Bess pressed her to confide. The truth slipped out in a gush of relief and a sob, "Bess, what shall I do? How can I face Da' and this new world with my shame."

"Oh, dear, hush yer fretting. Yer Da' loves ye and maybe this new world is the place for a fresh beginning. It's not the first time a sorrowful parting has born regret and it'll not be the last. Take the sorrow as a gift to remember yer Alan. A wee bairn is always welcome no matter the grief that has born it here."

"Thank ye Bess." A comforted Maggie set her face to a new life and adventure once more. Before she new it they were landing in America. Several weeks later they were settling in South Carolina, rolling and green, not unlike the home they had left behind. A crude cabin was quickly constructed and earth turned for planting. Home was taking shape. By spring little James Alan Bankead, born from a dream of love into a land of freedom, was in Maggie's arms. Bess had been right, there was always room in a family.

Many, many years later on a spring evening, after a continent had been tamed, a mother with emerald eyes tucks another Maggie into her bed. "Hush", she whispers as she smooths auburn curls back from her toddlers brow. And in the whoosh of her pulse and the beat of her heart the untamed whisper of Scotland echoes strong and brave. 

Has your family heritage ever inspired you? Tell us how!

Words ~ A Life-Giving Fountain

"I used to think the words spoken about us describe who we are, but now I know they shape who we are." Bob Goff, "Love Does"

Words that have changed me.
Notice which one is just under the Bible.

I've been reading Bob Goff's amazing book, Love Does, for a few days now. It is impacting how I see things, what I feel, my capacity for believing the impossible. Words do that.

I love words. Spoken and written. I'm a talker, a writer, a dreamer. I always have been. It's a gift, except when it's not. Words are powerful, they can shape a person's image of themselves, impart hope, explain beautiful truths and draw others to God.

But words also have the power to destroy. We all know that, we've been on the backside of words flung from a careless mouth that cut to the bone. That's when words are more of a curse than a blessing.

I've been shaped and encouraged by words, and I'm thankful. The words of people who love me have guided and comforted. The Word revealed in the Bible, God sharing his heart with us on paper, is more of a gift than I can fathom.

There are books too, written by men and women who's hearts are on fire, the words blaze off the page and into mine. I'm so grateful, I will never be the same because of the words they've shared. There are several that come to mind immediately.

One of those books is Susie Larson's "The Uncommon Woman". I've read it three times in the last few years and shared it with numerous friends. Her vulnerable, passionate words changed how I saw Jesus and his church. They made me fall in love all over again. But what's even more remarkable is the gift she's given to me personally.

About a year ago I wrote a post and asked if she would share it on her blog. She did! The people in the next county over heard about it that night, all the way from the front porch! For a year or so I've commented on her blog or facebook page and she has responded graciously, personally, warmly, to my comments. Of course she does that with the other women and men who leave comments for her, but that doesn't matter, somehow for a moment I feel heard and valued.

What Susie probably doesn't even realize, but I'm acutely aware of, is the power of her words to speak life, to launch a dream, to cast a vision. Why is that, why does she have such power? I believe it's because people like myself have recognized the influence of the Holy Spirit in her life. In a way we're not just hearing what Susie Larson thinks when she speaks to us, we're hearing from God.

That realization got me thinking. What if we all thought of our words as a sacred trust? What if we all realized that we have the power to speak words of life and death, to kill a heart or resurrect a dream? What if we were so in tune with Jesus and the truth of scripture that people, our children and husbands, our co-workers and neighbors, our friends and enemies, heard the voice of God when we spoke?

"The words of the godly are a life-giving fountain; the words of the wicked conceal violent intentions." Proverbs 10:11

What do you think? Do words have that kind of power? Have you experienced life giving words from another, how about life killing words? Do you use your words as a sacred trust, offering life and hope? 

Guest Posting at Mary DeMuth's

some of my favorite words

Today I'm sharing thoughts on the powerful responsibility of our words over at Mary DeMuth's great blog. I was a born communicator, a down right big mouth growing up! Over the years God has been shaping my understanding regarding the powerful effect of our words. So hop on over and read the lessons I've learned about communicating with care.

If you've made your way here from Mary DeMuth's page, to you I say welcome! I'm glad you're here. I write about beauty, home, sisterhood and grace. Though not necessarily in that order, often overlapping, and with other thoughts occasionally sprinkled in. If you are a woman that invests in the lives of other women I invite you to download my free ebook Sister to Sister; A Mentor's Handbook. Also feel free to look around, read past blog posts, and make yourself at home!

Women who Inspire: The Sisterhood

Sister -  (from dictionary.com)
adjective

12. being or considered a sister; related by or as if by sisterhood: sister ships.

13. having a close relationship with another because of shared interests, problems, or the like.

I have been undeniably blessed by precious women in my life. Some close family, some that lived before my time, some have rubbed me hard smoothing away jagged edges, some young, some old, some who know my heart deeply and still love me, some I've never met. But all sharing a common relation, fellowship birthed from the blood of Jesus. Sweet family, a gift. These women have so energized my Christian walk I just had to introduce some of them to you. (I hope you will post a comment and tell me about the women who have blessed your life.)

This week's sister:
Words can mark us for good or bad. Years ago I had a professor in college use her words to inspire me. Dr. Matthews was a professor of psychology. She was tall and blonde, looking back I realize she was young, though at the time I didn't think so. I respected her, what she said mattered.

One day I was interviewing her for an article in the school newspaper. I don't even remember what the article was about now. As we were finishing up the interview and had moved on to personal conversation she said something I will never forget. She said essentially, "I teach hundreds of students and every so often one stands out among them as special. You stand out to me and I expect you to do great things." Wow! I was so moved and encouraged by her words. More than anything else I wanted to live up to them.

I don't know if she said that to all of her students, I wanted to believe she didn't. I also don't really know what she saw in me at the time. What matters is over the years those words have come back to me. I remember her powerful words of confidence and belief, focused on me. I have measured myself by them and question if I have lived up to them. Those words have pushed me to take risk, to try harder, to raise the bar. I am better because her words have nudged me to be better.

How do you use your words? Do you speak words of favor, belief, hope, life, courage, truth into other people's lives? Or do your words weigh down with criticism or negative feelings? How can you use your words today to lift another's heart?

{If you would like more tips on how to influence the lives of young women download a free copy of my ebook Sister to Sister; A Mentor's Handbook today!}

Word Filled Wednesday ~ Heroes in the land

I said to the Lord, “You are my Master!

Every good thing I have comes from you.”

The godly people in the land 

are my true heroes!

 I take pleasure in them!

Psalm 16:2-3

My life is transitory and uncertain, planted in the waiting. But one thing I know, everything good I do have comes from the Master. What a comfort. His faithfulness, an eternal home, Jesus righteousness, his word, his power and nature, so much goodness all from him.

I love the next verses as well. How often do we idolize selfish, vain, greedy people. We desire their success and beauty but that's not what the psalmist loves. I pray that my true heroes will be people of holiness, that I take delight in lives that bless with righteousness and love. True heroes are a gift of goodness from a generous Master, I delight in such goodness.

Linking up on Internet Cafe for Word Filled Wednesday.

Inspiring words

These are just some of the words that have influenced me. Some of them old favorites, some newly discovered treasures. And these are a tiny sampling, many of the dear friends I've read and known are packed in a box at the moment or were borrowed. Familiar warmth fills me when I see the colors of their binding and curve of titles. Crowning them all is the true Word. I'd love to know what treasured books have inspired you, re-worked your thoughts, lifted your heart?

Words flowing

I feel that if I were cut open I would bleed words. They pump through my heart, mind and soul spilling from my lips and fingers. They fall on ears and paper leaving a mark. Perhaps the scalpel of God's word is for that purpose, spilling out words as it slices through my heart. Unholy words, searching words, profane words, redeemed words, grateful words, forgiven words, healing words pour out and are sifted.

The words I've read up to this point have been strung together to form a pearl garland encircling my heart. Favorite books have shaped me, have given voice to my own words. I read and am urged to respond. Books by Oswald Chambers, Hannah Hurnard, John Piper, Harper Lee, Beth Moore, Susie Larson, Elizabeth Elliot, Charles Dickens, Thomas Aquinas, Charlotte Bronte, A.W. Tozer and others have contributed words to the flow in me. But nothing compares to The Word. The more I read about him, write about him, breathe him in and out, the more he flows through my heart. The pump of my heart hopefully beginning to beat in time with his. My words take on shape and are washed clean in the flow of grace from the cross and that's when they matter.