Happy Valentine's Day from Leona Choy

A Reminder of God's Gift of Love for YOU (John 3:16)
Nothing can separate YOU from the love of Christ (Romans 8:38) "neither death nor life...nor anything..."
His love for YOU is great (Eph. 2:4) "God, who is rich in mercy..."
"His love surpasses knowledge..." (Eph. 3:19)
(2 Thess. 1:3) "... the love every one of YOU has for each other is increasing."
"...Christ loved us and gave himself up for US..." (Eph. 5:2)
(Heb. 13:5) "God has said, 'Never will I leave YOU; never will I forsake YOU.'
"How great is the love the Father has lavished on US..."

 (1 John 3:1)
"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God.
Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. " 

(1 John 4:7)

Keep yourselves in God's love as you wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life. (Jude 1:21)

(Selections from hymn "I AM HIS AND HE IS MINE")

Loved with everlasting love, led by grace that love to know;
Gracious Spirit from above, Thou hast taught me it is so!
O this full and perfect peace! O this transport all divine!
In a love which cannot cease, I am His, and He is mine....

Since I know, as now I know, I am His, and He is mine....

Things that once were wild alarms cannot now disturb my rest;
Closed in everlasting arms, pillowed on the loving breast....

While He whispers in my ear, I am His, and He is mine....

His forever, only His; Who the Lord and me shall part?
Heav’n and earth may fade and flee, firstborn light

in gloom decline....

But while God and I shall be, I am His, and He is mine!

SIDELINED

These days I seem to have more than a few friends sitting on the bench behind the fence rather than out on life's playing field. 

Some are sidelined due to illness, surgery, or are going through chemo. Age eventually sidelines many of us. Some are retired voluntarily, some have lost their position to younger people. Some find themselves in assisted living residences away from their accustomed surroundings. Some are sidelined with grief and loss through bereavement or divorce or other broken relationships. Others are out of the work force because of the economy slump.

Why are we so surprised when life seems to go right on without us? Somehow we don't expect the sun to keep shining brightly and days to go on so normally. Secretly we may not want people to manage well without our involvement. How can people walk so capably in our shoes the minute we take them off? Being sidelined is often a blow to our identity. We are not sure who we are anymore if we have spent a lifetime been known solely by our role, our job, or position in life.

Apparently many of us in our advanced years have viewed ourselves as the center of our particular universe, the hub of our family's wheel, the indispensable one at work or church. People have flattered us by reinforcing our essential image. “I don't know how we can ever do without you. No one can take your place.” Famous last words. Did we believe them? 

Most of us need to confess that we think the indispensable mask does look attractive on us. In a sense we thrive on our self-importance. To have our mask removed by being laid aside in some way, retired, or removed from our accustomed position of prominence strips a veneer from us that actually was unbecoming. Surprisingly, the consequences of its removal may be beneficial. There may be collateral benefits from our bench warming.

The Scriptures caution us not to hold an exaggerated or puffed up opinion of ourselves. Puffiness indicates ill health physically as well as spiritually. It's a costly ego trip we can't afford to take. “Be honest in your estimate of yourselves, measuring your value by how much faith God has given you. Just as there are many parts to our bodies, so it is with Christ's body. We are all parts of it, and it takes every one of us to make it complete, for we each have different work to do. So we belong to each other, and each needs all the others” (Romans 12:3 TLB).

Having to sit on the sidelines for whatever reason while someone else stars in the game in which we played so well deflates our exaggerated self. God doesn't want to take away our self-esteem, simply to help us see ourselves realistically. Sitting on the bench shows us that we can't be the leading player forever and that everything won't fall apart if we aren't there. If people continue to depend on our performance in any aspect of life, it may stunt their emotional, mental, and surely spiritual growth.

We should look at ourselves as dispensable. The places we occupied so well seem to close up behind us as they are capably filled by others. We are all frail, mortal, and terminal in the sense of not being able to play any role in life permanently. Each of us is God's special instrument or channel, unique and important to the Lord, but not indispensable. He can either work through us or through someone else. That is a hard but valuable lesson to be learned while bench warming.

We may not be sidelined permanently by The Divine Coach. We should concentrate on keeping in good shape spiritually and being available to the Lord. He'll decide our position on His Body Team and call us when He needs us. If not on the field, perhaps among others bench warmers in the dugout.  

Meanwhile, from our position on the bench let's cheer every Body Team member out on the field doing a great job and not be jealous because they are wearing our uniform, helmet, and number.

NOT INDISPENSABLE

Who am I to think that I'm the hub

around which the world turns

and all spokes lead to me?

God is not obliged to work

through my earthen vessel

my created lump of clay

with numbered days and faltering ways.

Without me, Lord, life would go right on

The world would still turn

and You could run the universe.

Without me, Lord, those who lean on my arm

could walk by themselves

and be kept from harm.

Yet I am amazed that You stoop to choose

and sovereignly use

this human trifle that I am

as an instrument to do Your will!

Lord, cause me to understand

my dispensability

my frailty

my mortality

and in humility

still offer You my availability.

****

IN THE SHADOW OF PROFESSOR TIFFANY

I'm frequently asked,“What jump started your writing career?” I'll title my answer: 

 IN THE SHADOW OF PROFESSOR TIFFANY

The year was 1952 and at age 27 I had just returned by ship to the U.S. exhausted from missionary work in tropical Singapore and Hong Kong. I had a five month old baby and two toddlers in tow—our oldest was just over three. I traveled alone since my husband Ted remained overseas to complete a final year of seminary teaching.

As a young mom with no spare time for anything personal beyond my parental responsibilities, I nevertheless began to sense that it was God’s time to move forward in my desire to write more seriously. From childhood I rather clandestinely wrote poems and stories, kept a journal, and was a voracious reader dreaming that some day I would like to be a writer. However, I had no formal training in the writing craft.

Upon entering Wheaton College in 1943 I was disappointed that no Communications major was offered. That seems incredible now, given the prominent place it has in today's Wheaton curriculum. I was an Anthropology major but with an elective to fill I signed up for the only class in writing that I saw listed—a one semester class in “Creative Writing.” It was taught by a stately, energetic, buxom, silver-haired professor, Mrs. Tiffany. 

The only thing I remember about the class was that she assigned us to try writing in various genre and then spent an inordinate amount of time teaching us to write proper essays. How boring and irrelevant, I thought! Essays were from another century and not for our modern age. Little did I realize back in 1945 that my brief exposure to creative writing and Professor Tiffany's insistence on perfection in syntax would be the tiny mustard seed from which would grow the next seven decades of my writing life.

How could I begin to hone my skills for writing while juggling baby bottles and diaper changes? In those early years we didn’t have an abundance of Christian writers’ conferences, how-to books, Christian market guides, recordings, or videos. Certainly no computers or online internet instruction. More academic training was out of the question given my circumstances. My old Underwood manual typewriter and I were on our own. So I borrowed stacks of books from the public library and taught myself the writing craft by the seat of my pants between child care duties. I joined the local Iowa chapter of AAUW. There we mercilessly critiqued each other's writing—and some of us survived to write again and better. 

I recalled Professor Tiffany's idea of exploring which writing style suited me best. So I determined to try writing seriously in every genre until I succeeded in having one manuscript accepted by a publisher in each category. It seemed like an impossible dream, but after enough rejection slips to paper a wall, I did just that. Most magazines or publications didn't pay anything, but my byline was there! I concluded that the newsy, hurried aspect of journalism didn’t appeal to me, but I liked the reflective nature of creative writing, poetry, and the research process for nonfiction. Of one thing I was certain: I would never be able to write a book. The discipline and length of time involved in that process would be too demanding. 

(Update: I have just seen my 37^th book roll off the press including more than a dozen foreign language editions of some of my titles and a growing number of my ebooks are available. Never say never!)

I continued freelancing while raising a family of four sons while working full time editing publications with the campus ministry among Chinese university students which my husband and I co-founded. I slipped into book writing quite by accident through opportunities for “ghost writing” for other people who had something significant to say but were not writers. Success as a “friendly ghost” led to writing my own books: historical and missionary biographies, my husband's biography and my own heritage saga with several spiritual autobiographical sequels, anthologies of my free-verse poetry, contemporized classic works, books on mission philosophy, and specialized target readership devotional books. Teaching workshops at Christian writers' conferences led to publishing my books on the craft and ministry of writing. 

My books related to China are based on a lifetime of ministry experiences among Chinese people both on North American university campuses and during my14 trips to The People’s Republic of China as tour escort and independent travel with my late husband listening to the stories of courageous underground Christians and churches there.

In recent years many of my books focus on what God is teaching me through the adversities of life, among them my lung cancer surgery and widowhood. Such struggles are not to be wasted but they are an opportunity from God to help readers who encounter similar experiences. Now that I am “calendar challenged,” my books reflect the issues one faces in vintage years. For all of the books I have published, the mustard seed basics about writing and perfection in syntax and wordsmithing that I learned from Professor Tiffany's brief writing class have been my foundation. After all, each book is simply made up of short topics or essays which, when accumulated, morph into chapters.

I am an ardent blogger with many faithful followers. There too I write under Professor Tiffany's shadow—each blog post is essentially what a previous generation would have called an essay.

Most of my earlier books were published through traditional royalty publishers. When I became more prolific in my writing, the submit-to-a-publisher-and-wait-endlessly cycle seemed too slow and burdensome. Speaking in churches and conferences was increasing my visibility and my web site was extending to new horizons. At the same time, my potential for marketing was developing through producing and broadcasting my daily radio program on the Christian station of which I am president. Even there I benefited from Professor Tiffany's essay writing class—each short program I produced was essentially an audio-essay.

Based on those pluses, my eldest son Rick and I established Golden Morning Publishing primarily as an umbrella for my books, although we have published a number of books for others which I have ghost written or edited. We control the entire process from writing through seemingly endless proofreading, ultimately producing camera-ready copy or electronic transmission which we send to a top notch press. I work with graphic artists to design full color covers to follow the themes of my books.

I'm usually writing more than one book at a time so when one book is on the press, I'm already excited about working on the next one. Professor Tiffany's encouragement not to limit my creative writing to one genre has enabled me to write in multiple directions, as God leads. After a lifetime as primarily a non-fiction writer, I'm dipping into fantasy-fiction with my forthcoming book Fables of God's Kingdom for Grown Ups, which will be published first in an electronic version. I think Professor Tiffany would be pleased that I'm still spreading my wings to attempt new genre. In fact, I just might dedicate the book to my long ago, silver-haired writing mentor! But I'm not sure she would remember me from the back row of her class. I was the one whom she consistently graded no higher than C+ for my efforts! I was definitely not the one voted "Most likely to succeed" in her class!

I find creative writing exciting and joyful. Nevertheless, it demands serious commitment and large, continual doses of self-discipline. The finished manuscript doesn’t drop from heaven nor is it dictated word for word by the Holy Spirit. For the writer who is a Christian his work may contain insights of truth, but of course is not “revelation” in the sense that Scripture is inspired. It requires long, lonely hours of writing and rewriting, constantly improving one's craft, if God is to be glorified with the writing gift He has given. 

That's what it's all about, isn't it?

****

Adapted and updated from an article “Meet the Pro in Cross-genre Writing” originally published in the Cross and Quill, The Christian Writers Newsletter.

DRINKING FROM MY SAUCER

Note: The most frequent question friends ask me in this new year is "What are you writing next?" In answer, this is to let you know that I plan for two books to be published electronically first, (in ebooks) before they will be published in print. Both are already written pending final proofreading. The first I will explain below. The second, in a later blog post.

Introduction to COME DRINK FROM MY SAUCER

Our God is an “over-blesser.” Whatever He does is lavish, munificent, bounteous, unsparing, and abundant. God has an unparalleled record of faithfulness in providing for the needs of His own people. Beyond that, He outdoes Himself in generously giving us far more than we need, even to granting the desires of our hearts if we delight ourselves in Him. (Psalm 37:4) He is the God of overflow.

As a result of His creative overflow to me while I was writing my recently published book STILL MORE! FLOURISHING ON MY SUMMIT, the third book of my spiritual autobiographical Trilogy, I obviously flourished overly much! I had to perform syntax surgery by cutting the word count in half before publication. Several analogies come to mind to justify publishing this book.

The birth of twins

I look upon each book I write as if it were another child—a brain child or a heart child. While writing the above book, I was unaware that I was “pregnant with twins.” I thought it was one rather large “baby.” As I neared “full term,” I realized, editorially speaking, that this word-child was not a single birth. I had to delay the birth of the second twin. Although this is not possible in natural childbirth, it is possible in the editorial world. Here the analogy breaks down. I resume in wordsmithing terms:

The syntax surgery I had to perform on my manuscript was painful and painstaking. What should I retain and what should I reserve? I wanted to include all of the topics because of their importance. They had already gone through the final editing and proofreading. It didn't seem feasible to leave out entire chapters since each had a theme in continuity. I sifted prayerfully through each chapter to decide which topics could be omitted. The process left me sharing with my readers only half of what I wanted to say. I was stopped in mid-sentence, so to speak. 

In this book are the collected, omitted topics plucked from each of the original chapters of my STILL MORE! book. In a word, I am offering still more of STILL MORE!

Gathering up leftovers

A second analogy is that of conserving the leftovers. All four Gospel writers mention the miracle of the loaves and fishes. On one occasion Jesus took seven loaves of bread and multiplied them to feed 4,000 people. Seven large baskets full of leftovers were collected. He had previously blessed five loaves and fed 5,000, and the disciples gathered twelve baskets full of leftovers. Leftovers were of concern to Jesus.

I was faced with a decision about leftovers. Since Jesus has always given me more than I need, I should be a good steward and not waste the bountiful, equally nutritious leftovers with which Jesus has blessed me. I should find a way to share them generously with others rather than let them languish in a document on my PC and consign them to oblivion without blessing anyone. I waited for clear guidance from God. It felt it would come via feedback from readers of STILL MORE! who let me know whether they found the original book to be spiritually challenging enough to want a “second helping.” That has proven true!

Therefore, in this twin book are gathered up the nutritious leftovers tucked into twelve baskets full and divided into twelve new chapters of MORE.

Drinking from the saucer

I mused over a third whimsical analogy remembered from my childhood. I was blessed with two Czech grandmothers in my early growing years in the Iowa heartland. One grandmother lived with us; the other we often went to visit. 

My most vivid sensory recollection was of the overpowering fragrance of coffee in Grandma Anastasia's house so evident upon entering her front door. A large, blue-speckled enamel coffee pot was set on the wood stove brewing coffee for Grandpa Jed and for anyone else who might drop by to visit. The aroma of freshly baked kolaches, a fruit-filled, yeast dough, traditional Czech bakery, mingled with the powerful scent of coffee. 

Grandpa drank coffee throughout the day. He liked it piping hot and wanted his cup filled all the way to the brim. The pot was heavy and had a wire handle so it was a bit unwieldy for Grandma to manage, so she usually misjudged the amount she was pouring. Invariably the coffee spilled over the brim of Grandpa's cup. The runoff collected in the saucer. Grandpa never complained. On the contrary, he smiled and said it tasted even better from the saucer. He was fond of drinking the saucer overspill first. I think he deliberately made a lot of noise sucking it up because it made his little granddaughter giggle.

This book represents what I hope is the fragrant and generous overflow into the saucer from the original cup, my book STILL MORE!

The bubbling, overflowing cup above is the illustration I plan for the front cover of COME DRINK FROM MY SAUCER.

MARSHMALLOW MORNING

(View from my back door)

by Leona Choy

While I slept soundly

snow fell lightly last night

as if God were in Heaven’s kitchen

making an angel food cake.

He sifted it in heaps over the hills

spreading it smoothly like frosting

over every bare branch

beating white peaks of meringue

against our shrubbery

and making a marshmallow mound

of my deck furniture

and my Chrysler in the lane.

He swirled powdered sugar

with abandon down our sledding hill

while all life came to a standstill

in our deep-freezer pond.

But today the winter sun broke forth

and our world is a marble cake:

chocolate chip mud morsels

dot our lumpy lawn and fields

cocoa-splashes mar the pristine purity

of last night's spectacular beauty

of God’s divine cuisine.

Our crusted, rutted road is brown-sugared

with maple syrup puddles.

A lone duck splashes about with delight

in the thin, watery edges of the pond

quacking at the melting sight.

Who knows?

(Certainly the weather forecaster doesn’t!)

God may send a second angel

to fly down and silently add

another fluffy white layer

and frost it again tonight

spreading a frothy, finishing fillip

of whipped cream snow

to top His marble cake

or silver-crust it all with slippery ice—

even that would be nice!

I don't dream longingly

oh well, maybe occasionally

for Florida's predictability.

Come what may, I'm here to stay

I delightfully thrive

on God's culinary variety

in Virginia country winters!

****

PLANNING WITHOUT PRESUMPTION

 

If it is really a truth, it can be found anywhere. The Scripture says, “Whatever things are true...if anything worthy of praise...let your mind dwell on these things” (Phil. 4:8). Sometimes I find it in unexpected places. I came across a truth on the last corner of the cover of my college alumni magazine. A young professional, a graduate of the college, wrote,  

“I think of my life as a very small plot of land that's been given to me, that I didn't make, and I can't sustain by myself. I want this little plot to reflect God's glory, and so long as I can accomplish this [through her God-given gift and academic training in the arts] I'll continue to explore it thoughtfully and share the experience with others.”

Good stuff! A worthy analogy. I want to explore its application to my own life—perhaps the reader can find it has meaning for himself/herself as well. It fits into the theme of my recent blog posts. What difference does my life make anyway? Is my “footprint” of any significance?

 

What have I been doing with that “little plot of land” that is my life? For sure my life and my circumstances were given to me by the Lord. They are not of my own making, and I can't till the ground by myself; I need the help of others. Am I neglecting to plow and plant my life-plot just because it's little and so leave the ground unplowed? Perhaps it is larger than I know! God expects me to bloom where He planted me; He chose the location and my orbit of influence. He has given me the “tools” to make it fruitful. 

Is my little plot reflecting God's glory? Am I sharing the fruits of my spiritual experience with others to draw them to God? Or have I looked down on my gift and my scant opportunities and buried them in the ground like the one talent hidden in a napkin in Jesus' parable?

Cultivation takes planning and work and time. Weeds grow rapidly by themselves, but crops must be patiently sown and cared for.

I admit that I don't have trouble with the planning. It tends to be my strong point. I'm good at setting goals long term and short term, aiming for deadlines, charting my course full steam ahead. But I realize people are different and not everyone does that. Some just let life happen and then they respond to it. My strong point may also be my weak point. I'm inclined to make my own plans, to map it all out, and try to control the outcome in my time frame. I'm sort of a mover and shaker.

 

James 4:13-16 is my flashing red light.  

“Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in business and make a profit.' Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we will live and also do this or that.' But as it is, you boast in your arrogance; all such boasting is evil.” James put his finger on our incredible presumption that we know what the future holds, even short term. Only God is all-knowing.

Yes, I'm responsible for my little plot in life. Yes, I should plan and not just merrily row, row my boat gently down the stream. God has given us all free will; we don't dance like puppets dangling on a His string. He has given us minds and judgment and choice with that freedom so we can plan. “Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails” (Prov. 19:21). A man's mind plans [devises, designs] his way but the Lord directs his steps and makes them sure [establishes them]” (16:19). 

God allows me to plan and devise and work my little plot in life in a way that seems good to me and as if it all depended on me. At the same time I should not be so presumptive as to take the future for granted. “If God wills” I shall cultivate my plot in stewardship because He owns it and has placed me here for His time frame and purpose. I happily understand that the Lord is over all and directs my efforts in the way that I should go!

OUR “FOOTPRINT”

Having been involved in radio broadcasting for decades, I am familiar with that term. It means “the area on the surface of the earth within a satellite's transmitter or sensor field of view.” In more user-friendly terms, our “footprint” meant how far the radio signal frequency could reach; how many potential ears could be listening.

In human terms, we understand our footprint to be a mark left by the foot, as in earth or sand. If my foot makes an impression in the sand of the seashore, it soon disappears. If the footprint is in the mud or soil, it can last somewhat longer. It means that someone has been there. (When a super-size footprint is found in the forest, “Bigfoot” is thought to have stomped by.) Like a fingerprint, an impression of the sole of a person's foot may be taken for purposes of identification, as a newborn for a birth certificate. 

 

When I was four years old, my parents built a new house and had me put my little foot in the cement of a step leading into the back porch. It was still there when I left home to get married.

I want to explore still another meaning of our footprint: “the impact or impression that a particular activity, person, or group makes.” What footprint or impact am I making by my life while on the earth? No matter how long I will live or how short my life will have been, it is but a tiny dot when compared to eternity. 

Nevertheless, God has entrusted me with life and expects me to be a good steward of it. I am to make a unique footprint for Him, an impression worthy of Him, an image of Him left upon the lives of other people.

Not a selfie-footprint that will be washed away with the tide. A permanent one. Just as our prayers are everlasting when we release them up to God, and our thoughts are recorded in God's book of remembrance, so my impact on every person I have ever encountered is everlasting—and I am impacted by their footprint. Every step I make in life is as if I made it in cement. Footsteps can be heard and footprints can be seen. Every word I say, every deed I do, as well as every word I forgot to say, or act which I neglected to do. Yes, every discouraging or negative word, every unworthy deed also leaves a footprint in cement. What a sobering thought!

Footprints are supposed to lead somewhere; they are meant to be followed. The footprints God expects me to make should lead others to Him by way of the Cross and the Empty Tomb. They are meant to draw people upward not lead them downward. When Jesus called men to discipleship, He beckoned “Follow Me.” Jesus said to His disciples, "If anyone wishes to come after Me, he must deny himself, and take up his cross and follow Me” (Matt. 16:24). People can no longer see Jesus' visible footprints on the soil of Planet Earth, but they can see my footprints. I am responsible for where my footprints lead others.

Saint Paul offered himself as a model for early Christians taking their first steps in their new faith. “For you yourselves know how you ought to follow our example, because we did not act in an undisciplined manner among you...” (2 Thess. 3:7-9). Yes, Paul, your footprints were worthy and wonderful. But I am only a humble twenty-first century follower with often unworthy footprints for anyone to follow. Nevertheless, I have no choice. I make footprints daily. 

 

When I was a child I was closely bonded to my Daddy. I stuck to him like a burr. Whenever he did yard work I would follow him and try to put my small feet into his big footprints. Likewise, I must stick close to my Father in Heaven and put my feet in the footprints of Jesus if I in turn hope that people will follow me to Him. 

"If anyone serves Me, he must follow Me; and where I am, there My servant will be also” John 12:26).