Marfa Update: Day Two

Well, it's been interesting.  Have you ever found that, when you're trying to follow God's call on your life, all hell breaks loose?

Yesterday was an incredibly productive, good day.  I locked all characters by early afternoon.  I had Book I outlined by two.  Book II is halfway finished, and the metanarratives for Books III and IV are on paper.  Much, much more than I expected to get done yesterday.

Then, at 4 I started to feel incredibly sick.  I emailed a friend to pray.  Within minutes - I'm not exaggerating - the sickness "mysteriously" went away.  Praise God!

I went out around 6 to grab a bite to eat.  When I returned, a neighbor in the up-scale motel I'm staying at (it's supposed to redefine '50's chic with its hipster modernism....yea, right...I recommend that no one ever, ever stay here) decided to engage me.  He's been trying to create banter with me since I arrived.  Eye contact.  Comments over my car (I'm in my mom's bright pink escalade - don't ask).  Etc.  He's been drunk since my arrival.  Though he creeped me out a little bit, he seemed harmless, just really drunk.

Until last night.  I pulled in, parked, and he locked eyes with me as I headed to my room.  I got that creepy, icky feeling girls sometime get.  I know enough not to ignore it.  I hightailed it to my room and bolted the door. 

Knock, knock, knock. 

Oh Jesus, he's knocking on my door.  What now?

I called my husband for advice because the motel had left the front desk vacant with no emergency number to call.  AWESOME.  My husband told me to stay on the phone while I told him through the door that he was making me uncomfortable and to please leave.

He knocked again.  I followed my husband's instruction.  With slurring, very drunk words he tried to talk me into coming outside to talk to him.  I told him he needed to leave or I would call the police.  He knocked again.  I hung up and dialed 9-1-1.

A day later I'm still dealing with this.  In fact, the sherriff just left while I watched Donovan (that's his name) walk off the premises with his backpack.  A local told me he comes through town every so often and that he's a drifter.  I also found out that he's been holed up in his hotel room, drunk, for over a week (and the hotel staff didn't do anything about it!!!).

I'm leaving a day early (not another night in this place - I've learned my lesson).  I don't feel angry or scared.  Just incredulous - why does this always happen to me? - and sad.  Sad for Donovan.  I pray that he gets help somehow.

Now my writing feels kind of selfish.  Kind of stupid to write about.  BUT, I know that God has a purpose for it and that I have to push through.  He's given me a job to do, so I'm going to do it.  In spite of all the drama, I've managed to start chapter one of book one.  I'm three pages in, and I really like it.  It's writing itself now that it has a backbone (its outline). 

So, as I told my husband earlier on the phone, I got everything I needed out of this weekend.  That, and a little more.  I also got the reminder that when God calls us forward it's never easy, but, in the end, it's always best.  Because if I don't encounter resistance, how will my muscles grow?  And grow they must for His glory.  He's had me in Romans 5 this weekend.  Now I see why.

Love to all and thanks for praying.

Marfa Update: Day One

Okay, so it's noon on my first day, and I'm feeling pretty good about my progress.  Story arches of two of four main characters, locked.  Places and place-names, locked.  Time, locked.  Plot, metanarrative, locked.

Ten pages written.  Goal is to have fifty written before tomorrow night.

And, I took a few minutes to stroll around downtown Marfa.  Visited the Book Shop (which is not what it once was, sadly - no more art installations).  Grabbed an authentically Swiss hot chocolate at Squeeze (can't recommend enough).  And took artsy photos in order to get my creative juices flowing.  So far so good.

Ironically enough, the Annual Cowboy Poetry Festival is happening next door in Alpine this weekend.  Unfortunately, I'm going to have to skip it, so I can stay focused.  But I bet it would be interesting!  Bill Wittliff is in town and gave a talk last night.  Fun times.

Thunderbird

i find myself in west texas
where the sun sets on the ground
i find myself in west texas
where the life burrows around

my feet up into my soles
while i still stand on the spot
like a mole living and breathing
while life's organisms rot

i find myself in west texas
when the moon rises in the dark sky
i find myself in west texas
when the stars twinkle with bright eyes

i listen for the train as it rumbles
announcing itself in horn
i listen for the train as it rumbles
marking the night i was born

Lily walked!

The quick version....  Our daughter, Lilian (aka Lily), has an unexplained gross motor delay, diagnosed around ten months of age.  At that point, she wasn't rolling, pulling up to sitting or standing, cruising, any of the above.  Needless to say, she did not crawl or walk.  After seven months of fears, hopes, specialists, and therapists, we still have little to no information to explain why she has to struggle in this area.  BUT, whether or not we understand physically what's going on in her body, we know this: she's a fighter!  And a hard-worker.  And she rarely complains much.

Intuitively, I had this feeling she would walk at sixteen months.  Our latest therapist, a very well-meaning, realistic woman who has honestly been very helpful, thought I was setting my sights high when we started with her in December.  However, today, when Lily is exactly sixteen months and four days old, she took thirteen steps during her therapy session!  One...one...two...three...three...and finally four in a row!

YEEEEEEEE-HHHHHHAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

That's pretty much all I have to say about that.  Except, of course, PRAISE GOD and THANK YOU to all who have prayed and helped in any and every way. 

For everything, there is a time

So, a while ago I wrote a post about how I was going to start teaching my three-year-old to memorize Bible verses.  I started with this verse from Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV):

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.

Honestly, I have forgotten about this resolution (awesome), but I'm cutting myself some slack on that one.  I think we will have to memorize one verse a quarter at this rate.  : )  Regardless of how well I'm doing on this front (which isn't the point anyway!), your comments to yesterday's post reminded me of our "memory verse".  This really is a season for my son.  And, according to God's Word, there is a time for everything.  For whatever reason (and there are many, I am sure), he needs this season.  It is growing and developing him in good ways.

I'm going to try to remember that the next time he melts down and I'm on the verge of losing it.  Because - for sure - I need this season, too.  Who knows all the things I'm learning in the process?  Certainly many more than I can see right now.