Thanksgiving Epidemic

In the past four weeks, I have been in 12 different states, I've taken four different plane flights, driven over 4,400 miles, I've gotten married, survived finals in graduate school, celebrated Christmas, turned 25, celebrated a new year, attended Passion Conference 2012, and moved into a new house. Yet, I am still breathing.

If I were to list all the lessons God has scribbled on my slushy brain in the past month, I'd have to write a novel--but wait! I'm already doing that! Instead of adding to my workload, I'll just touch on the more impacting lesson of generosity and giving.

I never realized how un-generous I was until I got married. When nuptial announcements and invitations invaded the mail mid-October, friends and family came out of the woodwork, exuding generosity and blessings like I've never witnessed (or given) before. Conversations between my husband and me were reduced to endless exchanges of, "We are so blessed." There's no way to comprehend the generosity of others that we've experienced since knowing each other. People willingly handed us their time, traveling 15+ hours to attend our wedding only to exchange brief greetings, hugs, and tears. They blessed us with monetary gifts of all forms and ranges. They scouted our registries like they were on a shopping spree. They gifted us with creativity to enjoy until we lose our eyesight--Julie creating a masterpiece woven with heritage and favorite colors, Kathryn designing and painting a "guest book" platter, Megan making a frame to remind us of God's definition of love, Colin building us a wooden chest, his lovely wife, Dori, making us the most beautiful wedding cake you've ever seen,   Melanie painting our "Just Married" sign for the sleigh...it never ends.

Created and designed by the beautiful Julie Kocher

Designed and painted by Kathryn Finn

Designed and painted by Megan David

Chest designed and made by Colin Hein. "Just Married" painted by Melanie Shea

Cake created by Dori Hein. Photo skillfully captured by Drew Woolery

A professor at Biola University once said to me, "Give until you feel it."

At the time, he was responding to a question regarding tithing. I mentally translated it as, "Give until it hurts." I've applied that statement to my life since then, but eventually encountered no painful limits--it didn't hurt anymore. Instead, it brought me joy. 

I thought, What now? I can't make it hurt.

After our wedding, the true words of what Dr. Thoennes said to me returned. Give until I feel, not until I hurt. Joy is a feeling. 

"Each one must give as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver." (2 Cor. 9:7)

The people in my inspiring family, the people of my valley, the people in Daylen's family, the friends of myself, Daylen, and our parents--from every stage in life--clearly have this verse etched into their hearts. Their joy in giving and celebrating with Daylen and me is still sending ripples a month later throughout this country. My understanding of "generosity" is shattered and re-constructed. To those who blessed and continue to bless Daylen and me with prayers, gifts, thoughts, joy, and smiles:

"You will be enriched in every way for all your generosity, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God. For the ministry of this service is not only supplying the needs of the saints, but is also overflowing in many thanksgivings to God." (2 Cor. 9:11-12)

We are overflowing. We are so thankful. We will always cherish and strive to spread this epidemic of God's joy. Thank you for your examples.

Photo skillfully captured by Drew Woolery

First Winner

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I won my first contest.

I say this only because, in my exuberant joy, I can't recall ever winning any other contest before. Not one that I desperately wanted to win. Sure, I've won a few inconsequential "contests" here and there: a packet of sponges in Bingo, a baby-blue plastic hat in a work-out gym raffle (it ended up being too big ), and a school sweatshirt that looked better on my friend who now has it for good. The biggest prize I ever won was the "jackpot" graduation raffle--school ring, graduation announcements, cap and gown, and diploma frame.
Of course, I won this after I'd purchased all these items. Refund? Certainly not! But I digress...

I am the first place winner of the ACFW-Ohio "Hook Me" Contest.


I know you've all heard of it, who hasn't? It's famous. I don't even need to explain because you are sitting on your side of the computer exclaiming in awed "ooh"s and "wow"s, right?
No?
What a shock. Alright, I shall indulge you this once, but don't you ever forget the ACFW-Ohio "Hook Me" Contest after this.

Essentially, the contest focuses on the opening of one's book. In the world of writing, authors must grab the attention of editors/agents/bookstore browsers (etc) in the first five minutes and persuade them to keep reading. In "Hook Me", us authors-to-be *giggle* send in our first 1,000 words and a back-cover blurb (that juicy snippet on the back of a book screaming for you to open its pages). Three professional judges take a look at your chunk of work and give it a score out of 60 (following a list of intense criteria, of course). After this, your two highest scores are taken and averaged.

So I sent in the 1,000 words from my most recent novel and waited anxiously for an entire month (oh, the drama). The e-mail arrived. My breath caught. I double clicked and these bright red words met my nervous gaze:

CONGRATULATIONS!!! YOU ARE OUR 1ST PLACE WINNER

I read the word "1st" about a hundred times before I allowed myself to squeak, dance, laugh out loud, and throw my hands in the air. None of that is an exaggeration. I believe I may have even allowed myself an on-the-spot rap about "I can't believe I won" (this, coming from a girl who doesn't even listen to rap).
Then I looked at the number of contestants (41) and calculated my chances of winning. With atrocious math skills and six failed attempts, I came up with the approximate number: 2.5% chance of dominance. Two percent. And I won. My score? 60. Double the shock.

Do I sound prideful yet? None of this is written with the intent to brag. It is written in pure, ecstatic joy. I'm shocked, amazed, befuddled, in awe, and forever thankful to my best friend, Christ, who gave me the opportunity to join this contest, and who gave me the words to write. He won the contest and then laughed and let me think it was me.

The significance of this contest is not in the prize money, not in the title, and not in the certificates. It is in the fact I won a contest that judged what I love to do. It judged my writing--something in which I pursue perfection more frequently than breathing. After the smoke cleared, I was told that I'm "up-to-par". Hope and motivation are renewed with fresh vigor.

In a day when "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" is the contest-to-win, I am perfectly content with my yellow and fluorescent-blue print-it-yourself certificate.



And my $50 Amazon gift card might as well be the world.

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