The Nudge

"To Hold a Contest" Part 1 & 2 Winner Announcement...How about a Part 3?

As promised! thanks for hanging in there with the changes made last minute.  We do have winners to announce!  Since we changed things up a little (since we didn't reach the 1500 liks on FB or the 200 fans on Twitter) we are awarding a few less books.  Better than not giving any away.  We just don't roll that way.  

Some of you really got into the sharing, tagging and RTing!  Thanks for participating and most of all, for helping me spread the word about my books and my message within the story.

Did you win?

10 Facebook & Twitter winners (winners were selected by Random.org):

• Victoria Bylin
• Tonia Powell Baird
• Temple Garnett-burton
• Melissa Dawn Jenkins
• Mommy Does Blog
• @soccarkidsmom
• @sthrnsassygirl
• @wordlily
• @relz
• @jeanetteedgar

Contratulations to each of you!  To claim your priz (A signed copy of Unexpected Dismounts), please email impactauthor{@}comcast{.}net your mailing address, or if you are not in the US, your email address BY FRIDAY, OCTOBER 21st 11:59 MT.  If your name is above and we have not heard from you other winners will be selected and notified.

CONTEST #2:

If you were one of the first 10 people to email me 3 reviews, you will be getting an email from Leah (impactauthor{@}comcast{.}net confirming you won.  These emails will be sent out before the end of day on Thursday.  If you have a high spam setting on your email, you may want to make sure to add her email address to insure you get her notification!

Not to worry! If you didn't win, there are quite a few more opportunities to get your hands on more books.  Keep an eye here on my blog, facebook page, or twitter.

Again, thank you for helping me spread the word!

Oh wait! There will be a part 3....stay tuned as this will be announced later today and it will go VERY FAST! Good luck!

To Whom Shall I Speak?: Part 2

Yesterday we talked about the dilemma I'm faced with: where is the audience for what I'm called to write? Because if I don't find them, why continue to write novels like The Reluctant Prophet trilogy?

I was explaining that I took up Jeremiah to look for answers, since he had the same question: To whom shall I speak?"

When I got to chapter 9, verse 10, I finally found something concrete. God says to Jeremiah:

  "Take up weeping and wailing."(9:10)

Not a problem!

So I wept and wailed my way through the rest of the chapter, and there, buried in verse 24, I found this:

"Understand and know me, that I am the Lord. I act with steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth, for in these things I delight."

Definitely working on that. That keeps me going for several more  chapters, looking for what God tells Jeremiah about HOW to get this message out. And what does He give him?

"Hear the words of this covenant and do them." (11:2)

Ah. Am I just writing about it, or am I practicing it myself? Can I check that one off? Gotta work on that, too.

And then I reach 12:5 and it REALLY stops sounding like God is only talking to Jeremiah:

"If you have raced with foot-runners and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses?

And if in a safe land you fall down, how will you fare in the thickets?"

Clear translation: 'Nancy, stop whining.'

Making an honest effort to put my big girl panties on, I slogged my way through several more chapters of gloom and doom, and none of it was meshing with today's publishing market. At several points, I got more confused than ever -- I mean, "Do not pray for these people'? Really?

And then slowly, very slowly, because I'm not of Jeremiah's caliber, I began to get it. God is saying,

'Don't paint a pretty picture.'

Does that mean, like, "Some people are going to see that Harley on the front cover and the word 'prostitutes' on the back cover and be turned off. But don't "say peace where there is no peace?"

He is clearly adding, 'And don't expect to be patted on the back for it.'

Pat on the back, maybe not. But royalty check? Maybe?

Along about Chapter 15, I realized that I was a lot more like Jeremiah than I thought I was. I'm looking at my sales numbers and my contract-less future, and at the church that still behaves like a gated community -- and I, too, wail, "Woe is me!" (15:10) I can say, like Jeremiah (15:16):

"Your words were found and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my ears."

And yet -- Jeremiah adds: "(So) why is my pain unceasing, my wound incurable, refusing to be healed?"

All right, it isn't that bad for me, at least not physically. But I DO hear, again and again, "Your books are great, but if they don't sell, we can't . .  " I was thinking I'd found a kindred spirit in Jeremiah. I could see us meeting for coffee.

Finally, when Jeremiah is wailing and gnashing his teeth (I, too, have me some TMJ pain, Jer), standing there with a worthless loin cloth, God says what I so need to hear -- what all of us who are nudged to do seemingly impossible things need to hear:

"If you utter what is precious, you shall serve as my mouth." (15:19)

Am I hearing this right, God? No matter what the results are -- sales, reviews, or better yet, people being nudged to do what You want them to do beyond just going to Bible study -- no matter what, it has to be enough to utter what is precious and hopefully, in some small way, serve as Your mouth?

Everything is not okay with Jeremiah after that conversation. I'll get to that tomorrow. But are we on the right track, do you think? Is it enough? Is it enough to stop us from worrying about whether following the Nudge is going to feed us?

Is it enough? I would love to hear. I wait in hope!

Blessings,

Nancy Rue

 

 

To Whom Shall I Speak?: Part 1

Hello, Fellow Nudgees. I have a dilemma I want to run by you. It has to do with that question, stated inimically by Jeremiah (6:10) "To whom shall I speak?"

I've always asked it, and      God has always been generous with the answer. I’ve written for tweens, teens, parents, and grown-ups-who-like-novels – a big ol’ group of readers.

But since I was nudged to write The Reluctant Prophet trilogy, I'm thinking that God has narrowed the group. A lot. Here's what I mean:

            I was recently in a Christian bookstore where Unexpected Dismounts was displayed with other new releases – a historical romance, some sunny contemporary fiction, and a few Amish titles. I stayed incognito (not that anybody recognizes me by sight, mind you!) and watched a female customer in the major demographic for Christian fiction pick up my book, stare at the cover with the Harley and the torn jeans and the row of ramshackle houses in the background, and literally shake her head before she returned it to the shelf.

And it wasn’t the first time I’d seen a reader choose the bonnet over the motorcycle helmet.

Now, before I go on, let me be clear that I do NOT put down the kind of fiction I just mentioned. I really don't. Most of it is beautifully written and uplifting and encouraging, and it validates our core Christian beliefs. It is obviously great stuff because the bookstores can’t keep the bonnets on the shelves.

  Not so much with the Harley helmets.

When I was writing Unexpected Dismounts, (the second book in the trilogy,) I kept asking God: Y'know, The Reluctant Prophet hasn't sold all that well. To whom shall I speak, then?

Seriously, what if I wrote more comforting books, instead of making people UNcomfortable? There IS a place for books that cheer and soothe us and keep us curled up in a chair by a fire. Why can't I write those, God?

All I get in response is a Nudge -- that isn't what you're called to write.

Fine. But where IS my audience? To whom shall I speak? Because, bottom line, my career as a novelist is over if my books don't sell better than they are right now.

I do have to speak. I feel like Jeremiah in the next verse (6:11) -- and trust me, I don't often feel like Jeremiah! He says, "I am weary of holding it in."

God gives Jeremiah a pretty clear (and thorough!) answer. He goes on for about the whole rest of the chapter, agreeing with Jeremiah. Then, finally, in Chapter 7, God says he'll tell him what to do, how to reach the audience with the message he's given him -- Yes -- drum roll, please!

       "Stand in the gate of the Lord's house and proclaim there this word --" and that word basically is, 'Tell them the church doesn't make them safe.'

Okay, so far so good. That's what I'm doing.

Then God says to Jeremiah (7:27) "You will speak all these words to them, but they will not listen to you."

Oh. Wonderful. If no one is going to listen, then why the Sam Hill am I writing it?

And as if that weren't bad enough, God adds, "Cut off your hair and throw it away." Y'know what, I might actually DO that if it would get Unexpected Dismounts into more hands and hearts.

As I continued to move through Jeremiah (all in one sitting -- that's how much I long to know) I did get some answers, and I'm going to spend blog time this week sharing them with you.

And then I'd love to hear what you think.

Meanwhile, if you have a dilemma about to whom YOU are supposed to speak, write, teach or minister to, do share. Because I'm thinking we're all being nudged in the same direction.

Blessings,

Nancy Rue

 

To hold a contest UPDATE

If you were participating in last week's contest, this is your update.  We do not have winners to announce as we didn't make our numbers.  But that will not stop us from giving away books!  That's what we love to do and everyone needs a Nudge regardless.

Here's the new deal.  Everyone who DID spread the word with a "share" on facebook (one done within my original post) or tagged my page in a post (did you know that pages can see this activity? I'ts pretty cool.)  will be entered to win for each activity.  If you are on twitter, each time you used @nnrue or #unexpecteddismounts you will be entered to win.

So, we are giving it ONE MORE DAY TODAY.  Head on over to my facebook page and pick one of my posts to share.  Or, if you prefer to write your own post, just make sure you tag me in it.  Not sure how this works? Just leave your question in the comments below and it will be answered ASAP.

If you prefer to tweet, here are some pre-written tweets to use. Just click on the button next to the tweet you like. 

 I’m reading ch 1 #UnexpectedDismounts http://scr.bi/ch1ud, be nudged by @nnrue.

Need a nudge? Check out @nnrue. She writes, blogs, facebook, gives away books! http://bit.ly/nudge1010 #unexpecteddismounts

@nnrue encourages, challenges, nudges me along.take a peek 4 yourself.http://bit.ly/nudge1010 win a book too! #unexpecteddismounts

 

If you are not here in the US, that's okay! You can still enter to win.  Your prize will be an electronic version of the book for your reader of choice.

Winners will be announced Wednesday before the end of the day.  There will be lots more happening in the coming weeks so if you don't win this time, there will certainly be another chance to do so.

Have fun & be Nudged this week.

 

Nudged -- to Hold a Contest! (updated)

UPDATE (Oct 17, 2011):

Well, we didn't make our numbers last week, but that's okay.  We still want to award books so we are working on a change of plans.  Stay tuned for more information!  

 

It would never occur to me to hold a contest, but David C. Cook has blessed me with a Virtual Assistant (she really does exist -- she just isn't here in my office, as much as I have tried to conjure her up!), and SHE has suggested that it's time to reward my readers for being faithful. Now that, I can get to. Trust me, it isn't complicated. She knows me well. (And besides, she will actually be sending out the prizes to the winners -- just so you know)

 Okay, so here's how it works, Fellow Nudgees:

  At the end of this week, on October 16, I'm giving away 20 signed copies of Unexpected Dismounts, (the second book in The Reluctant Prophet trilogy). All you have to do is help me spread the word by nudging your friends. 

     * If you're on Facebook (I understand there are actually people who aren't. Go figure), please share my page with your friends. Apparently a personal recommendation is found to be the best way to get the word out about something you love (and I hope you love Allison et al. . . .) Facebook even gives you the opportunity to write something about what you're sharing. If you want, you can "share" some of my posts on my wall (previous blogs, links, quotes, etc.) I do try to put things worth sharing up there. Seriously. 

      * If you tweet, I have (okay, let's be honest, my V.A. has) provided you with a few tweets below to make it easy for you to tweet about the contest, about my other books, about my blog, anything but my weight, my I.Q. or my loathing of exercise (that's our little secret) 

Then this will be what happens:

     * If my Facebook page reaches 1500 likes, everyone who "likes" me (that still makes me think, "Will everyone who likes me please raise your hand?" )  will be entered to win  with one entry.  10 winners will be drawn. Pretty good odds, huh?

    * If my number of Twitter followers reaches 200 followers, (and I will try not to lead anyone too far astray if they decide to follow) everyone who follows me on Twitter will be entered to win with one entry. 10 winners will be drawn

    Now, here's where it gets good: To make it even more competitive, you can earn multiple entries -- (do any of you actually have full time jobs?)

• 1 extra entry for every time you “share” one of my posts on Facebook
• 1 extra entry for every time you “tag” my page and write a recommendation for one of my books or blog on Facebook
• 1 extra entry for every @mention or using #UnexpectedDismounts on Twitter (see below for easy "retweet this" links) And if you don't know what any of that means, you know better than to ask me, but ask anyway because that wonderful virtual assistant will answer all your questions. 

Here is the inevitable Fine print: (metaphorically speaking only; I actually want you to be able to read it)

Winners will be announced ON MY BLOG Monday morning, Oct 17.  Winners must claim their prize by Wednesday Oct 21^st. (I'm not sure how you'll do that, but those instructions will be here, never fear) If not, new winners will be announced.  We will only ask for people’s email addresses once they have been announced on the blog, so we may need your help tracking down the winners!  Pages will be entered into the contest, and the same rules apply.  Open t0 US for signed book, internaitonal winners win a digital copy for your E-reader or computer.

For your tweets!(just click on the button next to the tweet you want to use): How slick is that?

 

I’m reading ch 1 #UnexpectedDismounts http://scr.bi/ch1ud, be nudged by @nnrue.

 

 

 

Need a nudge? Check out @nnrue. She writes, blogs, facebook, gives away books! http://bit.ly/nudge1010 #unexpecteddismounts

 

 

 

@nnrue encourages, challenges, nudges me along.take a peek 4 yourself. http://bit.ly/nudge1010 win a book too! #unexpecteddismounts

 

All kidding aside, I have agreed to do this because I long to spread the message that The Reluctant Prophet trilogy has to share, and I can only do that with your help. If you feel that the books can inspire readers to follow whatever God is nudging them to do and be, just as we have been nudged, please give a tweet or a share or a like. And of course, a prayer. Enjoy!

Blessings,

Nancy Rue

WHEN THE NUDGE MAKES YOU GO "OUCH"

Hello, fellow Nudgees. One would only use such an unattractive picture of oneself to make a point, so trust me, I have one. It may sound like whining for a few paragraphs, but try to hang with me. Not to fancy myself on a par with the psalmists, but they did do a fair amount of wah-wah-wahing in Psalms, so this could be Biblical. Who knows.

It started right after the kids' writers conference at Glen Eyrie a few weeks ago. I put my feet on the floor as I climbed out of bed one morning and was immediately convinced I'd stepped into a bed of tacks. It was a familiar sensation (okay, pain -- why do medical people refer to something that excruciating as a "sensation"?). I've had plantar fasciitis before, so I knew I was in for another week or so of soaking my feet in some concoction my daughter came up with last time -- or was it the time before? -- and rolling my soles across frozen water bottles -- and wearing tennis shoes everywhere. I'm not a tennis shoe kinda gal, which was, I was sure, how I got into that sensation situation in the first place.

Sigh.

I tried all of the above -- except tennis shoes to church and breakfast club. I couldn't bring myself to slip on my Reekboks with a suit. Seriously, there is a limit. I'm not sure it would have made any difference anyway, because when I was finally persuaded by my young "adopted"-son-nurse-practitioner, who we lovingly refer to as Rock Doc, to see a physical therapist, I found out the crippling pain in my feet wasn't actually about my feet.

You could have fooled me.

Joseph, the P.T.,  explained that those tiny tears in the tendons in my feet are caused by over-stretching caused by the battle the three big mucles in my hips and derriere are constantly having which has weakened them from abuse and misuse and overuse. In other words, my butt is in trouble. Only because Joseph is young (the same age as my daughter, actually) and adorable and because earlier this year he fixed my neck so I can look over my shoulder before changing lanes, I did not deck him when, as he was poking around on the fanny in question, he said, "Miss Nancy, why did you let it get this bad?"

Oh, I don't know. I thought it was normal for a sixty-year-old woman to have to hobble every time she got out of the car -- or up from the couch -- or, come to think of it, out of bed, even before plantar fasciitis. "Isn't this part of aging?" I said. "It doesn't have to be," he said.

That sounds like it would be good news, right? But then Joseph showed me the exercises I was going to have to do EVERYDAY -- contortions with names like "The Clam," "The Pretzel" and "The Bridge Over the River Kwai." (Okay, I made that last one up, but really, what else would you call a thing where you lie down with your knees bent, cross one ankle over the opposite knee and then lift your behind in the air and hold it all up for twenty seconds?)

Okay, fine. A few months of physical therapy, complete with acrobatics, was only going to mean a temporary adjustment to my schedule. As Joseph was applying tape to both my feet (putting me in mind of a geisha girl) I calculated how I could still finish the third book in The Reluctant Prophet trilogy, start on the new novel project, do revisions for the re-release of nearly all my tween books, and get my mentoring program off the ground, even while coming to P.T. three times a week and fitting in the exercise routine at home. I could conceivably check email on my iPhone while doing 30 reps of "The Clam", right?

And then Joseph prophesied.

He said, "Miss Nancy ..." (evidently not being called by just your first name by young medical professionals IS part of aging) "Miss Nancy, once you're healed, if you want to stay that way, you're going to need to exercise these muscles for the rest of your life."

Okay, wait right there. My insurance referral letter said we gotta get this done by January 14, 2012 -- and I'd already decided I was going to be the poster girl for plantar fasciitis-and-weak-butt-syndrome recovery and be out of there before Christmas. Make that Thanksgiving. But the rest of my LIFE? Even at sixty that's hopefully more than a year or two. That's the ten if not fifteen I plan to spend mentoring and teaching and and writing at least another who knows how many books -- God willing, of course. And haven't I felt like a half dozen major nudges telling me that plan isn't all in my head? No where in that plan was I apprised that I was going to have to do more than my two mile walk with Guinness and Geneveve four days a week (less when I'm up against a deadline . . .  less meaning not at all) and yoga whenever I'm not behind (which is when?) Nobody -- including God -- had told me I wasn't healthy. The aforementioned adopted-son-nurse-practitioner had told me my blood work was so perfect, I could eat a chili cheese dog every day for the rest of my life and never have a heart attack (which would have been more exciting if I actually liked chili cheese dogs.) I used to be a runner and lifted weights and gave Jane Fonda a run for her money in the aerobics department (I seriously wore out one of her videos on my VCR back in the 90's). But that was in the days when I wanted to look perfect. When I came to my senses -- and turned 50 -- I thought I was being pretty dang virtuous trading vanity for more hard work at the computer  and the podium. So -- what the heck!

I left Joseph's clinic having a lolapaloosa of a pity party for myself. By the time I got home, you'd think I'd just gotten a diagnosis of a terminal illness. I have friends who HAVE recently received that kind of news, so a generous layer of guilt was added to my state of  mind. But every time I tried to tell myself, "This is a good thing! You're going to be pain free!" all I could see was my already bulging-at-the seams calendar exploding off of my office wall. I had to do this exercise thing, like, every freakin' day -- but how? And not only how, but why? Seriously. I'm all trying to be a good steward of my time and ---

Oh.

That's when the New Nudge hit me, or rather, seared up from the bottom of my left foot. "If you're going to do what I'm asking you to do, you're going to have to be in a whole lot better shape than this."

I thought back to sitting on the floor in the Great Hall at Glen Eyrie enjoying a presentation -- and then having to be helped up. Of standing up from the stool in the classroom and covering the fact that my knees were buckling. Of sitting cross legged with the teen critics and then waiting for them all to leave the room so I could groan in private as I untangled myself. I went back further to the last FaithGirlz event where after dashing about with my beloved mini-women all day I could manage no more than a leisurely mask-the-pain stroll out to the car. And to that very morning when I sat at my desk, working on my novel with one hot bag of cherry pits on each hip and a frozen water bottle under each foot, putting off going to the bathroom because that would entail getting up and walking. I was seriously considering a catheter.

I'm not saying God "gave" me plantar fasciitis so I would wake up to the state I'm in. I don't think our Lord works that way. But "the state I'm in" is a direct result of not taking care of the body God gave me for the work I've been called to do, the work I long to do and do more of even in my sixth decade. It's a Natural Nudge if you will, although the message was almost audible. "You are still just a human being. There is no lifetime warranty on your parts if you don't give them regular maintenance."

And here's what else I'm getting from this Nudge. God is not letting me  get away with anything short of the best I have to offer in any area of my life. Lately, if I injure someone's feelings, even a little bit, I get called on it. If I get sloppy in keeping promises, no one lets it slide. And if I'm not settled in for quiet time with God every single morning before I do anything else, I'm off center all day. So a warning, my friends. If you pray that you will do everything it takes to heed the Nudge you've been given, prepare for "everything" to be more than you bargained for.

So, did I WANT to go join the health club and hire a personal trainer  and redo my work schedule so I can obey this most recent nudge? Not exactly. But I did it. And my husband decided to do it with me. And my personal trainer is old enough not to call me "Miss Nancy." And I went to Old Navy and brought me some pretty darn cute workout clothes. 

So -- any fall cleaning going on in your soul as a result of heeding The Nudge? Would love to hear about that -- as well as any checking in you want to do about Nudges you've shared with us here. How can we help? Hey, I know a great physical therapist . . . 

Blessings,

Nancy Rue 

   

NUDGED TO BE

Hello, all. I've been feeling pretty good about my sweet self, heeding all these Nudges to write this and create that and organize that other thing over there. All God-things, or at least all indications are that I can ascribe them to God. (By the way, don't you love the word "ascribe"? I'm trying to use it as many times as I can today. Yesterday it was "harbinger." Alas, I digress . . .)

Anyway in the midst of all that, and your reassuring comments that you, too, are being Nudged -- to move -- to write   -- to share your faith -- to attend a conference -- to write a letter-- to have a raspberry mocha . . .  in the middle of that, someone posted a quiet comment that said:

"Maybe you're not being nudged to DO, but nudged to BE."

Of COURSE I gnawed on that for several days. I am a notorious gnawer. I think that's why I had to have four operations for TMJ pain. This time my chewing included such questions as, "What, I'm not enough? I'm not okay? Was she saying that? " And then it was, "So, I'm supposed to stop developing a mentoring program and proposing ideas for new books and holding a conference and just . . . 'be'? I don't think I know how to do that!"  

Besides, I think I know what a Nudge to DO feels like, and most of you have indicated that you do, too. Once you recognize it, that naggy, nudniky, sometimes annoying inner poking to get off the spiritual couch and take action is pretty unmistakable.

But how in the Sam Hill does a Nudge to BE manifest itself? And then what do you do with it? Although, I guess if it's not a DO but a BE, then you don't DO anything. Holy Crow!

I have to admit that for a while I decided this person was just trying to make me feel guilty, although for what I have no idea. I already do a pretty good job of that on my own, thanks. And then it hit me -- not like a Nudge but like a Du-uh. I just finished the first year of the Academy for Spiritual Formation program in which we spent intense weeks looking at ourselves and who we ARE and who God created us to BE. Our goal was to bring those two things closer together, and closer to God, so that we can then go out into the world and do the work we have been given to do with gladness and singleness of heart.

In other words, I just spent the last year learning how to BE -- but I got all kinds of itchy when someone suggested that that was exactly what I needed to be doing. Sometimes I think I am still a teenager in a sixty year old body. Pity.

Once it occured to me that in essence we are Nudged to do both, I could take a look at what this whole Nudged To Be thing looks and feels like. I've made a few discoveries, had some epiphanies, which I'd like to share with you if you've gotten this far without becoming completely sick of my gnawing. If you'd like to chew on this with me, read on.

    What a Nudge To Be Looks Like, Possibly --

            * A random bout of some unexplained illness. Sometimes I don't stop and be unless I'm laid up with plantar fasciitis or a frozen shoulder or some other strange malady. Have you had that experience?

            * A desert period in your spirituality. The Desert Fathers were on to something when they went off into the sand and communed with God among the cacti. I haven't done that physically since I moved away from Nevada, but I've certainly done it inwardly. Thirsting for God. Seeing nothing but nothing. Seeing mirages that disappeared when I tried to go after them. There isn't much to do in those dry spiritual times except be. Have you been there?

            * A dark night of the soul. You know, when you feel worse than thirsty. You feel anxious and hopeless, and you want to DO something to make it stop, but your only authentic choice is to be with it. Have you spent time in that place?

          * Entries in your journal like, "God, please nag me!" "Who AM I?" "I think I"m losing it here!" Sound familiar?

        * A comment from someone you don't know and haven't heard from since and can't find anywhere on your computer  . . .

    What Does That Kind of Nudge Mean, Perhaps?

        * Richard Rohr, one of my new favorite spiritual authors, says in his book Falling Upward,  it's a "gnawing desire for ourselves", our true selves. It's like we're sick of our falseness and we can't move forward until we peel it off.

        * We're ready for theosis. I'm not sure I can use that word in many sentences in a single day, but I like it. According to Ronald Rolheiser (one of our presenters at the Academy) it means to get out of the way. To remove impurities bit by bit so that one day we can be wholly engulfted by divine fire and become a living flame of love. Now that's what I'm talkin' about.

     * These guys aren't making this stuff up. The psalmist, in Psalm 25, begs God not to remember the sins of his youth (yeah, really) or his transgressions, but to remember him according to God's steadfast love. That would be the love that made us to be uniquely ourselves. When we feel this kind of nudge, we're ready to be those selves.

    How To Respond to a Nudge To Be, Maybe --

       * Pray. I know that seems like a no-brainer, but I don't know about you -- I constantly forget that that is the appropriate response to just about everything. In this case, we can take our cue from the psalmist again, "Who can detect their errors?" he says in Psalm 19, verse 12. "Clear me from hidden faults." We know the big stuff we're guilty of. Now we're being nudged down to the concealed stuff that perhaps even we ourselves are not aware of. 

        * Ask God what it is we need to be healed of. I obviously need to be healed of so much doing without constant vigilance over who I'm being, and whether who I'm being is who I really am.

        * Go deeper -- which is what we'll focus on next time, and maybe the time after that. 

Meanwhile, I would love to hear about your nudges to be and where they're taking you. As always, tell us how those nudges are coming to you. Do you suspect they might be muscle spasms, or is it God saying, "I want to talk to you." Are you answering? What's it going to cost you?I cant wait to hear.

Blessings, fellow nudg-ees,

Nancy Rue

"All theology is at its heart autobiography."

Frederick Buechner, The Sacred Journey           

        

IS GOD A NUDNIK?

Hello, my friends. First let me say that the last two posts, published on July 22, made their way here by accident. I was doing a live blog feed -- a Weekend Beauty Retreat with my teen blogger friends - and somehow . . .  well, I'm not even going to try to explain it. Hey, if you enjoyed them, great. (Dale, Greg, let's hear it). If you were completely confused, now you know why. 

Today's post really IS for you, though. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the picture except that I wanted you to see how adorable my granddaughter is. And how smart at 6 months, getting into a book. It IS "Peek-a-Boo Jesus" (written by friend Loretta Oakes for Paulist Press, by the way), so it could count as Biblical. We are supposed to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the Word, and truth be told, Maeryn did spend more time biting the book than checking out the pictures. So, smart AND spiritual.

I told you this had nothing to do with today's post.

Seriously, what I do want to share today is a great word I just learned in reading Margaret Feinberg's wonderful book on prayer, The Sacred Echo. It's a Yiddish word which now replaces "meshugena" (somebody please tell me how to spell that) as my new favorite among Yiddish words. Feinberg points out that some Jewish translators use nudnik to describe the widow in the parable Jesus tells in Luke 18:1-8, the one who nags the judge until he finally gives her justice, just to shut her up.

Nudnik. I love that. And I think I AM one when it comes to God. "Are you hearing me, Father? Is any of this reaching you? Seriously -- hello-o." If anyone ever read my journals (which no one could do anyway because my handwriting is illegible), he or she would come to the conclusion that I am annoyingly relentless, gnawing on God like one of my pups with a soup bone.

But Margaret Feinberg points out that "God is a nudnik of sorts when it comes to drawing me back to himself." She says God often uses the repetition of a phrase or word or idea represented in Scripture not only to get, but also to keep her attention.

I think she's onto something. God can be just as pesky as I am. In fact I think God's better at it. As I've shared with you, I've been praying, praying, praying about the next thing, which has taken shape as a vision in my head. I can see pieces I'm pretty sure are Nudges from God -- hey, do you think that's where they got the "nud" in "nunik"?  I digress. But the still, small voice I recognize as God's is "Stick with me. Stick with me. Stick with me." Over and over. Ad nauseam. No variation on the theme. Just "stick with me."

Nothing dramatic has happened in the "sticking with." Okay, well, maybe the Christy Awards (I promise that's the last time I'll bring it up . . .). And a great meeting with my new editor at Zonderkidz this weekend. (Does the fact that she showed up in a shirt almost identical to mine really mean something?) And my precious agent Lee Hough being back to work part time just weeks after brain surgery to remove a malignant tumor. And my publisher providing me with a virtual assistant so that I actually appear on Facebook daily (and am loving that; go figure) And waking up every morning with the question, "What do I do first today -- besides eat, of course?" Rather than, "Am I done? Is this the day they'll tell me I'm done?"

There are so many nudges in there that (a) I'm metaphorically bruised and (b) I know Margaret Feinberg is right: God IS a nudnik. Maybe in the interest of awe and respect, we should say God is a Holy Nudnik. That will also prevent me from saying, "All right, already! I get it! Next instruction!"

Only I don't think there IS any other instruction besides, "Stick with me." Stick-with-me has is still allowing the third movement of this symphony of my life to run like a faint tune in my head. Stick-with-me has nudged me to create an actual visual representation of the dream. Seriously. I'm making a scrapbook before the fact. And I do NOT scrapbook. Only a Holy Nudnik could nudge me to do something close to a craft. Or bring me six talented writers to kick off my mentoring program. Or break my afternoon nap habit because I got STUFF I want to do more than I want to sleep.

So -- is God a nudnik for you right now? What's the persistent "holy prodding" (another Feinbergism I wish I'd thought of first) that you're getting repeatedly? I'd love to hear. I think all of us Nudgees would.

Don't forget the writing intensive for people who want to write for children and youth. Glen Eyrie, Colorado. September 11-14, 2011.

Click here for full info if you're so nudged  

 

Blessings,

Nancy Rue      

Check-In Time!

Imagine we've all just come in from a day out on the lake in "Banana Split". That's the name of our boat, but come to think of it, an ice cream sundae does sound good right about now. So imagine we've just changed out of our swimsuits and gone through teh sundae buffet and are settled in with our fave ice cream delights. (Nobody said this was going to be a lo-cal retreat!) While you're putting on the whipped cream and cherries (I like mine with walnuts) why don't you all check in and let us know you're here.

Now would also be a good time to start submitting your poems. Several of you have already posted and emailed yours so you don't have to do it again.

Let our final session officially begin!

So . . . Are You Going To Go With the Nudge Or What?

Hello, fellow nudge-ees. I've haven't posted in a while because, frankly, for a while I was feeling kind of nudgless. (Or would that be nudgeless? Surely there's an editor out there who would be HAPPY to set me straight on that!) I wasn't sure I actually had any credibility in the discerning-what-God-wants-you-to-do department . . . since I was getting the sense that I'd been wrong somehow.  

I thought when I wrote The Reluctant Prophet -- and the Real Life novels for teen girls -- and went on the road with FaithGirlz -- that I'd clearly been directed by God and was on a total roll. And then suddenly it kind of rolled to a stop. Yikes -- for the first time since 1994 -- 17 years -- I don't have a new contract waiting for me when I finish my next book. My calendar isn't bulging with events for the 2011-2012 season. I spent the better part of a week praying, "Did I think it was a nudge only it wasn't? Or am I done?"

I shared the latter with a few friends whose wisdom I trust and they were gracious enough to look at me and say, "No, you're not done. Crazy, maybe, but not done." Still, it was hard not to think that at almost-60, career-life as I had known it for so long was groaning to a halt, and I was going to have to get off the train and find another means of transportation.

Okay, even I am confused by that combination of metaphors. But you get the idea, right? Been there, maybe? Lost a job? Had a contract cancelled? Were surprised by a divorce? Had a dream squelched? And just when you felt like you were riding on a nudge so clear it made you feel a little superior to all those clueless people who weren't following God.  

Yeah, I'm squirming just thinking about it. Humbling, isn't it?

I did some crying (at breakfast with my publisher -- bad form) and some more crying (with my agent in his office -- worse form) and some ranting ("This is my CALL! Why are you people arguing with my CALL?!) And then I got sick of myself. I'm terrible company when I'm crying and ranting. And I can't stay long in the land of it's-so-awful-it's-so-awful-it's-so-awful. It's too -- well, awful.

So I sat outside at a Starbucks in Colorado Springs with a grande skinny latte with one Splenda and whipped out a legal pad and headed it "What's Possible?" Then I wrote. I was well into my second coffee when I started to wind down. I'd filled five pages with ideas and latte dribbles. I don't think it was the caffeine or the Colorado air or even the realization that it was time to get over myself.

I think it was a Nudge.

It was a Nudge that said, "In the first place, I'm not done with you. How could I be? You're not dead yet." It was a Nudge that said, "It's time for a new thing." It was a Nudge that said, "And if you'll stop whining for seven seconds you'll see that the first step in that new thing is right in front of you."

Yeah, well, duh. I'd just come from the Glen Eyrie Writers Workshop where I spent four days with Angie Hunt and Kathy Mackel and Bill Myers, helping aspiring writers develop their art so they, too, could follow their Nudges. And while I was there, I met with several of the players who will be participating in the Writing the Ages conference September 11-14 at Glen Eyrie, where Bill Myers and Kathleen Kerr and Rhonda Gowler Greene and I -- with the help of Loretta Oakes and Suzanne Gosselin and Jesse Florea and Kerry Krycho and a panel of kid critics -- will help folks who want to write for children and youth in the shrinking Christian market.  (Click here for more info)   

If the Nudge had been any stronger it would have pushed me off the Starbucks chair. And spilled my second latte. An hour later, I was meeting with people, discussing the possibility of curriculm guides and mentoring. By the time I got home the next day I had a dream so large it was all I could think about. A Mentoring Program. A Writers' Retreat Center. Weekend Intensives. A Non-Profit Organization. I'd had a great run as a writer. It was time to help other, younger authors launch their ministries. Yeah.

And then I won two Christy Awards. An embarrassment of riches. An addendum Nudge that seemed to say, "NOW will you stop whining? I have more books for you to write, too. Cool your jets."

Okay, so maybe God didn't say, "Cool your jets." That sounds more like me.  But the point is this. I think. So far. I can doubt my own discernment. I obviously don't always know what's a Nudge and what isn't. But I can't doubt God. Not for a minute. Not even when that precious agent, Lee Hough, whose shoulder I cried on that day, was a week later diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor and had to undergo surgery to remove it. Not even when another dear friend was told her cancer had returned. Not even then -- so certainly not when we just don't see how we're ever going to answer our Call in the current economic climate or the state of the CBA or the general toxicity of society. I might have been wrong about the Nudge, but I wasn't wrong about God. God's here. God's saying, "If you'll just lighten up for a sec, I'll show you."

So, this is me, lightening up and opening the door for you to share what's been going on with you Nudge-wise. Come on in. I"ll be waiting with a latte.

 

Blessings,

Nancy Rue