Shortly after burying her unfaithful husband, Georgia Peyton unexpectedly inherits the derelict Stardust motel from a distant relative. Despite doubts from the community and the aunt who raised her, she is determined to breathe new life into it. But the guests who arrive aren’t what Georgia expects: Her gin-loving mother-in-law; her dead husband’s mistress; an attractive but down-on-his-luck drifter who’s tired of the endless road; and an aging Vaudeville entertainer with a disturbing link to Georgia’s past.  Can Georgia find the courage to forgive those who’ve betrayed her, the grace to shelter those who need her, and the moxy to face the future? And will her dream of a new life under the flickering neon of the STARDUST ever come true?

It is pretty rare for me to read fiction set at any point in the past.  I am a contemporary kind of girl.  It’s what I write.  It’s what I like to read.  But one day, Carla Stewart asked if anyone wanted to read her latest novel, Stardust. At first, I didn’t respond because of that whole “contemporary” thing.  Then I read the blurb.  Hon, that is one intriguing idea. 

The book came a couple of days before I left on vacation, and I decided there would be no better time to dive in.

Stardust absorbed the first day and a half of my beach trip.  I planted myself on the deck and started reading.  I read while I made dinner.  I read while the rest of my family played games.  I read while everyone else slept.  I read for nearly two days until it was done because I couldn’t put it down.  Then I handed it to my aunt, and I don’t think we ever saw her again that week.

The tone is what got me.  There’s just an “air” about it as you read that makes you feel like you’re right there in the middle of the bayou with the characters, watching everything unfold, feeling Georgia’s inner pain in the face of the outer fear as polio strikes too close to home.  It’s almost effortless, the way Carla Stewart tells Georgia’s story.  Georgia’s Southern drawl comes through, almost like she’s taken a seat across from you to regale you with her history.  She’s real.  She’s flawed.  She’s struggling.  And she triumphs.

I don’t want to say too much, because I hate when reviewers do that.  But, please, curl up with Stardust.  You’ll be sad when you flip that last page but that’s okay… Carla’s got more where that came from.

-JB

But then, for Abram… nothing. Nothing happened. Sarai and he passed the age of childbearing. No descendant. So he took matters into his own hands and created a giant, still-resonating mess with Hagar and Ishmael.

So, what did God have to say about all of this?

Genesis 17:4a (GW)–My promise is still with you.

Decades had passed.  Abram had really, really stepped in it trying to do it on his own.  He honestly had to be wondering if God had just forgotten all about him.  (And oddly enough, in spite of all of this, Hebrews 11 credits him with faith.  That is SO encouraging to ME.  Think God meant for it to be?)  But here God shows up and says, “Hey, in spite of it all, my promise is STILL with you.”

I love the “still” there.  It’s part of God’s eternity.  No matter what happens all over the world or throughout time, God never ceases to be there, and His promises never cease to be true.  Even when it feels like all is hopeless, like He forgot all about us, like something has driven Him off of His throne, He is there.  He simply is.  Always.

That’s a theme for me apparently this year.  He. Is. Always. There.  And.  He. Never.  Forgets.

-JB

-JB

I remember lots of laughter. Long, rambling walks and talks together. The times in college when we held each other up when both of us were honestly falling apart.

I’ve been proud of you. Once traveled hours to watch you perform and do what you do best. Even online, you still make me smile. I love who you were in my past and who you are today.

There was a day when I found out something I honestly didn’t know about you. You’re gay. And, do you know what? Nothing about my feelings for you changed. I still love to see you. I still love to talk to you. I have defended you a few times. I have never, ever thought differently about you, have never, ever said or thought one disparaging thing about you. I have never looked at you differently.

I have never stopped loving who you are.

You know me well enough to know where I stand on some things. And I wonder if you know how badly you cut me this week. I am sure that, when you posted your thoughts on your Facebook page, you were not specifically thinking of me. But reading them felt like you punched your fist into my chest and ripped my heart into pieces. Because when you and your friends called people who didn’t agree with you names, you shouted them in my face.

Ignorant.

Stupid.

Fool.

Uneducated.

And worst of all… Bigot.

You say I cannot believe like I do and still love you for who you are, because you are gay, and that is what makes you you. Well, you have always known that I am a Christian. And now you say you can’t love me for who I am, because what I believe makes me who I am.

And it hurts. I’ve cried. I’ve wanted to reach out to you, but you’ve made it clear you want nothing more to do with “people like” me.

And that makes me sadder than you will ever know.

-JB

Authority.  It can be a tough word to deal with can’t it?  The human side of us likes to rebel a little, to have things our way.  Bucking authority is inborn in us.  I mean, how often have you watched a one-year-old, who doesn’t even know moral right from wrong yet, balk at a nap?  A two-year-old use the word “no”?  We like autonomy and making decisions for ourselves, don’t we?

And how much worse when it’s an authority that has wronged us or that places us in a bad position?  Look at Genesis 16.  Sarai and Abram take matters into their own hands an pull Hagar into the mix.  God promised them He’d give Abram descendants and even said it would be through Sarai, but somewhere along the way, they decided they knew better.  The immediate result?  A woman is forced into the desert with her son, presumably to die.  The long result?  An ever-escalating war that we still fight today.  Interesting though, that God doesn’t give Hagar a pass.  As she sits in the desert waiting to die, He delivers a message to her.

Genesis 16:9 (GW)–The Messenger of the Lord said to her, “Go back to your owner, and place yourself under her authority.”

I’m not knowledgeable enough to go into the whole Islam thing here, so I won’t even begin to comment.  But can we look at authority here?  God had her go back and submit to Sarai, who had mistreated her?  Why?  We don’t know for sure, but God certainly had His reasons.  The thing is, He knows what He’s doing, and sometimes, He has us submit to an authority that we don’t like.

I have to confess, I’m not for sure I like this verse.  I don’t have all of the answers about it.  But I do know it is there for a reason.  Even Jesus talks later about submitting to authority over us.  Why does God have us submit sometimes and step out at other times?  Because He sees the bigger picture.

The key is walking close enough to Him to hear His voice when He speaks.  Maybe that’s the take-away from this one.  After all, God is our ultimate authority, not man.  And the core of it all is being obedient to Him.

Even when it’s hard.

Even when it makes no sense.

Anyone else struggling with the chapter this week?

-JB

I’m re-reading a book I always read before I start writing a new one of my own.  See, my strength is dialogue.  My weakness is description.  So whenever I need to get my head in the game, I pick up Siri Mitchell’s Kissing Adrien.  It’s an amazing example of description.  It takes place in Paris and, every time I read it, I want to forget my complete aversion to spending hours in a flying soda can and go there.  She has this way of making it come alive.  And as many times as I’ve read it (a dozen or more), it still has that same effect.

But I digress.  One of the themes in the book is that, sometimes, we as Christians can get way too serious.  I know it’s something I’m guilty of.  For some reason, I get very, very serious about God and forget that He is not all about my checklist.  He likes to see me smile.  Holy cow, according to Zephaniah 3:17 (one of my FAVORITE verses), He SINGS over me.  I can get overly serious about life too.  (It’s the melancholy side of my personality leaping to the front.  Sometimes, my sanguine just can’t beat it back.)  When we forget to have fun, we miss a whole side of life.  Yes, we can go TOO far and make life all about fun (and in that respect, I think the book might go half an inch too far), but the point is, God means for us to smile.  To laugh.  To perhaps whistle while we work.  There is, after all, according to Ecclesiastes, a time to mourn AND a time to dance, right?

This weekend, I realized I’ve structured myself too much.  I’ve let go of the fun.  It’s a realization that’s been coming since we went on vacation last month and I went to Charleston with my 8th graders too.  I’ve got to reset my focus.

And that’s sort of what Paul McCartney was messing with here, in this sort of stream of conscious thing he’s got going in “A Fine Day.”  Sometimes, it’s okay to just wander, to just be about laying back and enjoying life.  Going for a ride.  Reading a book.  Appreciating what’s out there.  Don’t we all need that?

-JB

I don’t think I’m going to pick a specific verse today.  (Is that cheating?  If I’m the one who MAKES the rules, is it still cheating?)  This entire chapter gets me.  Think about it.  God is Almighty.  He doesn’t need anybody.  He can do whatever He wants.  He’s GOD, the I AM (my favorite name for God, by the way), the All-Everything.  That He exists is more than enough.  Am I listing a lot?  Yes.  Because I want us to remember exactly who God is.

Why?

Because, in this chapter, He made a promise to a man.  To something He created.  To something that is totally worthless without Him.

God bound Himself to act on behalf of a man.  Do we grasp that?  I’m not sure I do, at least not in a way I can put into words.  There was no reason to look at Abram and say, “I’m going to make a great nation out of you.”  God didn’t have to do that.  Yet He made a promise He had to keep, even knowing how Israel would cycle in and out of rebellion.  Even knowing how they would break His heart by rejecting Him.  Even knowing how they would one day call for Jesus’ death.  He still made that promise.

I’m sorry, but that blows my mind so much I can’t even really grasp it. Maybe I should stop talking and let it soak in for you like I need to let it soak in for me.

Now, because I’m a little bit OCD about it, I do kind of have to choose one verse this week or I’ll feel weird.    So my very favorite verse from chapter 15 is below, and is speaks for itself.  Want to choose yours and share it in the comments?  I’d love to hear it!  And what do you think about God making a promise to Abram like the one He made?

Genesis 15:1 (GW)–Later the Lord spoke his word to Abram in a vision.  He said, “Abram, don’t be a fraid.  I am your shield.  Your reward will be very great.”

-JB

]]> http://jodiebailey.com/2012/05/word-wednesday-genesis-15/feed/ 2 http://jodiebailey.com/2012/04/my-forever-office/ http://jodiebailey.com/2012/04/my-forever-office/#comments Fri, 27 Apr 2012 01:18:51 +0000 Jodie http://jodiebailey.com/?p=1840 Well, today I put the finishing touches on my office in our “forever” house.  Want to see?

Yes, it’s purple.  This is largely because, as my college lit professor was quick to point out (the first time he saw me after a ten-year gap, I might add), I love symbolism.  When I was talking to a friend about color meanings and she said, “Purple is the color of romance.  Oh, and royalty,” I knew my writing office had to be purple.  Friends, as a writer, I am all about romance… and, uhm, “royalties.”  Don’t ya just love it?  It makes me laugh every time I walk in here.

Mine is not the first “work station” to sit in this very spot though.  No, for more years than I’ve even been alive, my grandmother’s sewing table sat in this very spot, facing this very wall with this very window to the left.  If you look closely at the hardwood floor, you can see the spot where her chair sat, worn even though this room had an area rug at all times.

Now, here I am, in my chair at my desk, creating in a totally different way, in a way she encouraged me to create.  When she died, I had no idea this move would happen, that someday we’d call this house home.  It was something I couldn’t emotionally fathom at the time.  In fact, it wasn’t until last Thanksgiving, when my uncle asked if we were interested, that something in me clicked and made me realize… this is home.  Not just my childhood home, but my family’s “forever” home.

I haven’t had the time yet to truly sit here in my chair, to stare at the wall and let this all sink in.  But that time will come.  And when it does, I have every idea I’ll feel something of my Bopum here, cheering me on.

-JB

In case you are new here, Wednesdays around here are devoted to the Word.  This year, we are going through Genesis one chapter at a time and letting God reveal something to us out of that one chapter.  This week is 14, which means 15 is next week.  Please feel free to drop into the comments and share what God says to you!

Genesis 14: 14 (GWT)–When Abram heard that his nephew had been captured, he armed his 318 trained men, born in his own household, and pursued the four kings all the way to Dan.

Note to self:  be as forgiving and loving and sacrificial as Abram in this verse.

Last week, I wrote about how Lot got all self-centered and two-year-old-ish and snatched up the best land for himself, even though it meant taking a turn around the dance floor with some major sin.  This week, Lot and his family are carted off by four kings as part of the spoils of war.

And, naturally, Abram thumbs his nose in Lot’s direction and says, “Hey, you asked for it.”  Right?  Isn’t that what he did?

Uhm, no.  Going entirely against human nature (because, admit it, we love to see people get “what’s coming to them,” don’t we?), Abram gathers up a group of his own men and takes off after the whole group, fights a battle, and frees his nephew and a whole lot of others.

We aren’t given Abram’s motivation here, but I’m willing to guess it has to do with the fact that Lot was family, and family takes care of family, even when they grab all of the best land and clutch it to their chests in a fit of bad decision-making.  Thing is, well, everybody on this planet is our family.  How often do we rejoice when someone gets their comeuppance?  We’ve all done it, and we all shouldn’t.  Trust me, we have our own comeuppance held back only by a barrier that has a striking resemblance to a cross.  Aren’t we glad we don’t get what we deserve?

It’s hard to help instead of judge, isn’t it?  I think I might need to pin this verse to my bulletin board.  Or tattoo it to my hand.  Or something where I see it every day.

Help.  Don’t judge.  Yikes.  That’s a tough one, isn’t it?

-JB

There’s a line in the song that says, “Hello, Mr. Other Me. It’s been a long, long time.”  Oh, don’t I get that.  On the edge of the ocean, I become the better part of who I am.  The real me bubbles up to the surface, because there’s no distraction.  There’s nothing to clean, nothing to work on, nothing to say.  Yes, there are times (as I mentioned last Monday), when God and I have some heart to hearts, but those talks are born out of the purest parts of myself.

I like that.  But it got me to wondering… why is it my “Other Me” doesn’t come out to play more?  Why do I let myself get so wrapped up in work and schedules and the like that I forget to let “me” run free?  Hm.  Something to think about in my newly formed quiet times, I guess.

Funny thing is, I was a part of a field trip with 23 eighth graders last week.  We went to Charleston.  Oddly enough, “Other Me” showed up wide open on that trip, and I had a blast.  Why?  Maybe the routine we live in gets us stuck.  Maybe it’s good to see other places.  Maybe God knows sometimes we need to step out of our comfort zones.  Who knows?  I just know I like “Other Me.”  It’s about time I made her the “Everyday Me,” don’t you think?

So how about you?  Where does your “Other Me” live?

-JB