by April | Aug 8, 2014 | Award, Encouragement, Faith, Writer of Promise, Writing
2 Corinthians 12: 9-10 But he (Jesus) said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
I won an award this week at the Oregon Christian Writers Summer conference. It’s an award for being a Writer of Promise. It’s actually an award I thought would be very cool to win, but never expected to hear my name associated with it. In fact, I was so surprised to hear my name, all the blood rushed out of my extremities. I have no knowledge of how I got up those stairs and onto that stage. I remember very little about what I said, and only have a vague recollection of sitting down in my seat again. But I did because God enabled me to. In fact, God enables me to do everything I do. He’s enabling you, too, but you might not be aware to what extent. I am acutely aware.
Here’s what I would have said on that stage if I’d had more time and had my wits better about me. Maybe I said it and don’t remember. If you were there, I pray you saw it in my eyes: my complete unworthiness, my gratefulness, and my boast in the Lord:
I can do nothing without God. Really. I am chronically ill with a rare disease that leaves my body “fighting” germs 24/7. I get up every day with body aches and a fuzzy head, not walking straight, not sure of what I can take on. I’m exhausted because of the fight. Have you had the flu? Yeah, like that–pretty much all the time. At this week’s conference, I was heading back to my room every four hours for breathing treatments. I planned my classes, my meetings, around these treatments, around rests, around plenty of downtime. I almost didn’t make it to OCW, let alone the dinner and awards ceremony, because I’d been so sick. My medical treatment for my condition is done on Tuesday evenings, and 98 percent of Wednesdays, I’m down all day. I’m certainly not dressed up, on my feet, attending classes and going to late night galas. I shouldn’t have been at the dinner. In fact, I was due for a breathing treatment RIGHT in the middle of the awards ceremony. I was going to have to leave. But my lungs didn’t spasm with an asthma flare, so I stayed. And that’s when I got the most amazing surprise of my career (outside of my first book contract).
As I heard the kudos for the last award of the night, I prepared to clap for whoever it was. Then, I suddenly realized (via some clues) that the presenter, Lindy Jacobs, was talking about me! Although we were in a room of several hundred people, right then, it was just me and the Father. Because all I do, all I accomplish, all I write, all my steps are from Him. Literally. He carried me up those steps, He got me back to my seat. He got me through photos and lots of lovely hugs, and then back up that long hallway to my room where I cried and stayed awake in awe and humility into the wee hours. He stayed up with me, too. People often ask me why I write about my illness on my blog, why I share so openly when asked. THIS is why. I want you to see it’s not me, it’s Him. I want you to see how He loves us. I want you to see how involved He is in every aspect of our lives. He is my strength, my portion, my motivation. My all in all. And I’m so grateful.
by April | Jul 5, 2014 | Abuse Recovery, Book Reviews, Carol Award, Encouragement, Giveaway, Healing Fiction, Reviews, sex trafficking, Writing
When you write a novel, you hope it will connect with readers and make some kind of impact. When I wrote JASMINE I prayed for that, and from letters, comments and reviews, those hopes are being fulfilled. But my fondest hopes never imagined JASMINE would be recognized in a contest. And certainly not a contest like the Carol Awards through American Christian Fiction Writers. To see the official announcement, click HERE. Jasmine is one of three finalists for debut novel!
So today, I’m going to highlight some of JASMINE’s reviews, and ask you to celebrate with me. If you’ve read JASMINE, would you please consider popping over to Amazon (here) and leave a review? Just a line or two. If you’ve read JASMINE or MACY and they touched your heart, would you recommend them to a friend? And if you leave me a comment below, I’ll enter you into a contest for a signed copy of JASMINE to give to a friend or keep for you own.
Thanks so much to my readers for sharing and getting the word out! You guys really are the best.
JASMINE review highlights:
“McGowan’s well-developed characters honestly portray the cost of abuse and victimization on the streets few escape from. It’s a tale of hope, restoration and budding trust wrapped in God’s love and grace.” –Gail Welborn
“I highly recommend this book! My heart ached, grieved, even feared through this novel – April McGowan has a true gift from the Lord for writing, for understanding the human heart, and for demonstrating what the Lord can do in the most painful situations of life. Typically I would anticipate any great non-fiction work to be one that does not leave the reader unchanged. Jasmine, a work of fiction reflective of that which is played out in cities across America today, also does not leave the reader unchanged.” –Jeanie
“A captivating read with passages that melt your heart with the pain of Jasmine’s past and the struggle to find normalcy when her life has suffered from the deviant behavior of others. This is a story unafraid to ask the difficult questions about why bad things happen. It does not provide all the answers–but directs readers to the One Who will never leave or forsake us, even in the darkest hours.”–Elaine Cooper
“This book is one I will long remember, and I’ll remember Jasmine and the women she helped. I’ll wonder what they are doing and how they are…The story is that real. April McGowan is a wonderful writer with a heart for women trying to escape abusive situations. Her love and dedication shine through as she weaves the ugliness of abuse and desperation of the victims into a beautiful story of rescue and redemption. This is a good read I highly recommend.” –D. Durrett
“I highly recommend this book if you yourself are a survivor of childhood abuse, if you have someone in your life who is, or if you just want to read a really good fiction book.” –Kim Counts
“Jasmine is a book to be read by so many–those who are hurting from abuse, sexual or any other kind. People who work with emotional scarred individuals will also love this book. But aside from being socially relevant, Jasmine is a really good story for its mystery, suspense, romance, and the redemption of lives and family.”–Christine Lindsay
“Jasmine is the story of a girl who runs away from an abusive father, only to return to her birthplace of pain as an adult. Though she may have left town years ago, she finds the love of friends and family didn’t go away, and to her surprise, neither did God’s love. Jasmine offers hope to many women who have ever felt alone in their pain. It’s a powerful story with hope and healing woven throughout. I especially enjoyed the way it ended! Very satisfying!”–Melody Roberts
A huge thanks to everyone for reviewing! Did JASMINE touch you? I’d love to hear about it in the comments below! I’ll draw from the comments below for a winner next Friday, June 11th.
by April | May 23, 2014 | Encouragement, Jesus, Ministry, Trust
I’ve been thinking about vulnerability lately. Our society doesn’t like being vulnerable. We admire strong people, go-getters. We don’t gravitate toward the weak, to exposed underbellies or chinks in armor.
As babies, we come into the world trusting and ready to learn. Unfortunately, for many including myself, some of the first hard lessons we learn are that people let you down, betray you, hurt you, and you’d better face the world as a boxer–your guard up, ducking and weaving for cover.
There are all kinds of games people play to keep themselves safe. They build barriers, hiding behind forced smiles and platitudes. How are you? You’re fine. Even if you’re not. Then they go on to act one way with one person, and differently with another. They become evasive and non-committal. They only let a few in past the walls…and secretly they’re pretty certain those folks are going to let them down any minute. In fact, a lot of people are subconsciously waiting to be let down, and might even orchestrate events to prove it. In doing so, they get the result they were so worried about getting.
But being vulnerable doesn’t have to mean we’re weak. If you think about it, being vulnerable goes against our grain. It’s hard work to keep those barriers down. Now, I’m not talking about exposing yourself to people who have hurt you in the past, tossing your pearls before swine. On the contrary, I’m talking about going deeper, trusting more, sharing more honestly with those closest to us, and then branching out.
Does that make you edgy? Do lots of reasons not to let your guard down race through your mind? What about that last time you counted on someone and they let you down? But what about that last time someone didn’t?
That’s where the Lord has been taking me these past few weeks, and it made me plenty edgy. He’s been revealing this weakness in me, turning it to a strength through my submitting it to Him. It’s been hard, but very good, too. God’s pretty amazing that way, using all our brokenness to reveal His love and His glory. His amazing strength.
Jesus knew what it meant to be vulnerable. He made himself available to people of all walks, made himself approachable, and knew what it was like to have those closest to him forget him, deny him, even betray him unto death. But those he was vulnerable with, those he loved freely were changed forever. Imagine for a moment your Savior was unapproachable, closed off, unsympathetic–would you be be drawn to him for any length of time?
Thankfully we have a High Priest who has experienced every part of this life right along with us. Hebrews 4: 15-16 says: Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.
Is there someone in your life you need to let down your walls for, reach out to, walk closer with? I encourage you to do so. Our journey is much too short to spend it alone.
by April | May 6, 2014 | Chronic Illness, CVID, Encouragement, Surviving Chronic Illness, Writing
I could let the stresses of life eat me alive–but I don’t anymore. I’ve had to learn to let it go. Everything comes to a halt when I’m ill. Or when I’m editing. I’ve had weeks of both, which eventually came to an end. Huzzah! During this time, I implemented the “don’t put their clean clothes away until they’ve discovered all the clothes that don’t fit” clause. Well, really, that’s just a fancy name for “if you want clean clothes, they’re probably piled on the floor in our bedroom.”
I used to like methods and schedules. I’ve discovered with chronic illness, the schedule looks more like this: I’ll try that if I have the energy and if I’m not sick. I’ve had to become okay with that. Instead of numbered lists, I do an amalgam with check-off boxes. I’ll even add things to the list if that thing interrupted my day. Like yesterday, my daughter called me to the kitchen.
“The fridge doesn’t sound right.”
Indeed. “Whirrr……whirr….sputter…whirr…” Then, nothing. Rut-roh. As we pushed the fridge away from the wall (yes, I unplugged it! We don’t want another “Mom electrocuted herself on the dryer” event do we? … That’s a story for another time…) I thought to myself: Didn’t I just vacuum this thing out? Taking off the panel proved me all sorts of wrong. I’d never seen so much fluff and dust in one spot.
I grabbed a face mask (I’m reporting this mostly to my mother who is reading along with you and would be sure to warn me of the dangers of dust—my #1 allergy) and started cleaning it out. An interrupted hour later, plugged it back in and TADAH! Worked. I immediately wanted to put “Vacuumed under fridge” on my list and check that off. But I was too tired. So I did it mentally.
My son loves his schedule. But when Mom is down with an illness, or editing, or cleaning the fridge, he’s got to adjust, just like the rest of us. It’s harder for him because of his personality. I can only hope this is training him for life, learning to roll with it, learning to stay fluid. Learning to let go.
Letting go is the theme for my life these past several years. Letting go of plans and responsibilities was tough. Letting go of preconceived ideas was harder—letting go of that picture of what life was supposed to be about. However, I think there’s freedom in that. At least I’ve found it to be so. Now my lists are more focused on relying on God for what I can get done, for where He’d like me to focus my limited energies. Some days, I erase far fewer things off that list than I’d hoped to accomplish (most days, frankly), but that’s okay. I might not be moving fast, but I’m moving forward!
by April | Mar 16, 2014 | Chronic Illness, Encouragement, Faith, Prayer
Everyone has seasons in their lives of joy and hardship. Sometimes the hard ones feel like they go on forever, though. We’ve gone through many years of health hardships. They don’t seem to stop, but continue to ramp. You can take a break from activities, you can take a vacation from your job—but you can’t get away from your health.
Imagine with me a staircase.
The stairs take you up. The first few get your blood pumping, the next set start taking a bit more effort and you breathe harder. You keep on going, looking toward the end, but now your breath comes in gasps and pants. You have to stop and grip the rail, but there’s no place to sit down. Sweat trickles down your back, so you take off your coat, and keep climbing, because there’s no going back—there’s just up. If you have a disability, you might be pulling yourself along by that rail, one shaky foot, one sweaty palm, at a time.
On a real staircase, there are landings. If you’re climbing at a park, there might even be a well-placed bench for you to take a breather, a respite, a time of recovery—a drink of
cool water. It might be pokey, and uneven, but it’s a bench, and you’re grateful for it. After you catch your breath, you continue on, and then the path, or the stairwell, turns a corner. You’re still tired, but not as tired as you were. You had a break. The best thing is, you know soon there will be another landing, another place to take a break—or you’ll have reached the top.
But, what if there are no landings?
What if those stairs just keep climbing? You crane your neck, squint your eyes and all you see are more and more stairs. That’s where we’re at. These past few weeks, I’ve been praying for a landing.
Maybe you’re with me on those stairs, climbing relentlessly, praying for a break. Maybe it will help you to know you’re not alone. I’m here, too. We can hold each other’s hands as we go, pull each other up over that next step, urge each other along. Pray for one another. Jesus is there with us, He’s got your hand and mine.
Let me know if I can pray for you. You can message me privately on this page, or leave a comment below. Either way, I’ll see you on the stairs.
Psalm 73: 23-26 Yet I am always with you; you hold me by my right hand.You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will take me into glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (full passage here)
John 10:25-30 Jesus answered, “I did tell you, but you do not believe. The works I do in my Father’s name testify about me, but you do not believe because you are not my sheep. My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father’s hand. I and the Father are one.” (full passage here)
Philippians 4: 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (full passage here)
by April | Feb 10, 2014 | Encouragement, Grief
What have you been up to lately? We’ve been very busy. Let’s see, where to begin? I got the manuscript of my latest novel, Macy, turned in to my publisher, and spent the following days celebrating my daughter’s 16th and my son’s 11th birthdays…and worked on our M.E.P (our marriage enrichment project read IKEA shelving unit—see lovely photo on your left).
How hard can that be, you ask? Seriously, IKEA has great instructions, and it’s pretty simple…on paper. Except, did you know you have to drill the drawer front handles yourself? Yeah. That was fun, getting them all lined up (just be glad you weren’t here). Thankfully, my husband came equipped with a math function of which I am sorely lacking. Five, er…six…er…eight ruined drawer fronts later, there you have it! Flawless! Mostly.
It’s beautiful, and it’s something we’ve wanted to do for years and years. All our homeschool stuff is (soon to be) organized into ONE place (I know, right??!). “Mom, where’s the ____?” My “In any one of four places,” answer has changed to “Right there!” Well, it will be as soon as I get everything moved. But then—perfection!
Yes, I know, I attain perfection every time I reorganize that towel closet and perfection is stolen from me in days. I know eleven-year-old habits will be hard to break. Quit raining your well-balanced logic on my parade.
Our M.E.P went really well, considering I had to deal with letting go some more—which wasn’t much fun off and on. I have gone from a capable gal who could unpack most of the house after a move in a couple days to our M.E.P taking three weeks. I had a day of hating that. Much improved over what could have been three weeks of hating that. She’s growing, she’s accepting. (Still stinks though…grumble…grumble).
Your mind is still on all those wasted drawer fronts, isn’t it? Don’t worry, we’ll do something creative for our new kitty with them (I will tell you about him next time). Wait, you’re not worried about that? You just want to know how we could have ruined eight of them?
Sometimes you have this plan that looks great all sketched out, even measures out perfectly, but it just fails. The drill bit was bent and we didn’t know it. The hole for the right side was off just a tiny bit, so the template was off all those times. Lastly, plain and simple, the drill slipped in my grasp (drills are heavier to me now than they used to be).
Sometimes you just have to roll with it. And know when to walk away and let your spouse work out their geometry skills. Knowing when to walk away can be harder than you think. I’m a hang-on-with-my-teeth girl. After I walked away (mentally and physically), my patience for the whole project grew. I used to like drilling—not so much anymore. Gladly, my husband has a knack for it and finished up the fronts and doors like a pro.
Letting go can be very freeing. To be honest, I haven’t noticed the tools, the boxes on the front steps, the unfinished part all that much since I ‘walked away.’ That is not me. Actually, it’s the new me. The project got done, and I didn’t stress about it. Chalk up one successful M.E.P!
Have you had a fun or exasperating M.E.P? Leave me a message about it below!
I won an award this week at the Oregon Christian Writers Summer conference. It’s an award for being a Writer of Promise. It’s actually an award I thought would be very cool to win, but never expected to hear my name associated with it. In fact, I was so surprised to hear my name, all the blood rushed out of my extremities. I have no knowledge of how I got up those stairs and onto that stage. I remember very little about what I said, and only have a vague recollection of sitting down in my seat again. But I did because God enabled me to. In fact, God enables me to do everything I do. He’s enabling you, too, but you might not be aware to what extent. I am acutely aware.
