A Matter of Heart

May 13, 2023 Jaycee Weaver22 Comments

I once heard someone say Mother’s Day should come with a trigger warning. This same person had a hard time going to church on Mother’s Day Sunday, explaining that for her the day was fraught with conflicting, complicated emotions she’d rather not have shoved in her face. If you can relate, this post is for you. If not, this post is also for you, just keep reading, you may yet glean something of value.

While honoring moms on a special holiday every year seems like a wonderful, happy, sweet concept, it’s not always that simple. For some, it’s a painful reminder of unfulfilled longing. For others, it’s a day of grief. Trauma. Pain. Heartache. So today, while this is ordinarily a contemporary Christian romance blog, I’d like to take a moment separate from that to write a few letters from the heart honoring those who aren’t looking forward to Mother’s Day.

To my precious friend yearning for motherhood,

This season isn’t easy. I don’t know your story, whether you’re still single and searching, struggle with infertility, or are still waiting with deferred hope for another reason. But know that motherhood isn’t a matter of the body, but of the heart. You mother already in the ways that count. In the way you care for those in your life who need it, in the way you already love the child you hope for. In the compassion you show, in the sacrifices you make for others, in the leadership and mentoring you do. As with Hannah and Rachel, the Father hears the cries of your heart. Until your arms are filled, cling to Him with the hope of Someday. Keep loving others like He does while you wait, my friend.

Mother is a verb. It’s something you do, not just who you are.” —Dorothy Canfield Fisher

To my dear friend aching for her lost child,

Oh, my friend, how I mourn with you. Words cannot adequately express the unfairness of your loss nor honor the depth of yearning to see and hold your precious one again. You are loved, mama. You are precious to the Father, and He has felt what you feel. He has lost, too. That may feel like trite, and if so I am sorry. I pray for your heart today to find an echo of joy in the memories you treasure and hold close as you also cling to the hope of Someday when you will see and hold them again.

And can it be that in a world so full and busy the loss of one creature makes a void so wide and deep that nothing but the width and depth of eternity can fill it up!” —Charles Dickens

For my friends who are missing their mothers,

Whether the separation is by disconnect, death, or miles, I pray for you today. It’s hard missing your mama. May your memories be sweet and bring peace. You are not alone, never truly.

Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.” —C.S. Lewis

To my friend whose mother-child relationship was complicated or downright traumatic,

Here’s a hug for you, my friend. It’s hard to celebrate a day when you’ve got a history of trauma, abuse, neglect, mental illness, or other heavy issue that’s made life… well, hard. You should’ve had a better mom. It’s okay to acknowledge that. You aren’t dishonoring her by acknowledging she fell short. Sometimes there is healing in speaking the truth, in acknowledging she should have made better choices, gotten help, figured out her mess. She shouldn’t have hurt you. I pray for your continued healing, especially in those moments that sneak up on you and hurt all over again. If she’s still alive, I pray for you to find that sweet place of balance between safe boundaries and restoration. I pray she finds Jesus and experiences a radical transformation that brings healing to you both. But I also pray for your heartache if that’s never the case. May you find the strength to move forward in wholeness and healing. May your other relationships be better and stronger because of the things you learned and who you decided not to be. May you find hope, joy, and peace in the arms of the Father when you need them most.

It is both tragic and freeing to accept that your mother is not capable of being the mother you always needed her to be.” – Stephi Wagner

For those finding this Mother’s Day difficult for other reasons,

You are precious. You are loved. You are seen and adored by the One who made you and knows you best. It won’t always be like this. There is hope. I encourage you to find those tiny pockets of joy in seasons like this, however they come. In the warmth of the sunshine. In the sounds of birdsong and laughter. Cling to your faith, to the knowledge that someday soon a new season will come, and this one will become a mere memory. I pray for you to find Him when you seek Him, for you to feel His arms around you as you struggle, knowing you are not alone. You are not too much for Him, and He restores when you aren’t enough or fall short. When it feels as though everything around you is unraveling, hold tight to those threads of light, life, joy, and peace. And don’t be afraid to get a little therapy if you need it! We all do sometimes, my friend.

A mother is she who can take the place of all others but whose place no one else can take.” —Cardinal Meymillod

Last but not least, for all the tired and weary moms out there, whether mothers by biology or by action,

Thank you for doing the hardest job in the universe so well. I’m proud of you! There’s no more difficult job than mothering, because doing it well always means putting yourself last while constantly being mindful of the needs, demands, and preferences of everyone else. I pray this Mother’s Day your loved ones honor you in some way that makes you feel treasured, valued, adored in the way you should be. But in case they fall short, allow me to say GOOD JOB. You may fail, fall short, mess up, and do or say something that will land them in therapy in the future. Welcome to the club, my friend. Motherhood is a messy, complicated job, but the fact that you’re still trying, still sacrificing, still doing everything in your power to live love every minute of their lives, proves that you are good at your job. They might forget to say thank you today or tomorrow, but some wonderful day in the future, they’ll pause and realize how hard you worked and how fully you loved. Keep loving on and praying for those babies, long after they’re grown and facing the world on their own.

Successful mothers are not the ones that have never struggled. They are the ones that never give up, despite the struggles.” —Sharon Jaynes

“The Lord bless you
    and keep you;
²⁵the Lord make his face shine on you
    and be gracious to you;
²⁶the Lord turn his face toward you
    and give you peace.”

Blessings, my friends, now and always. I’m sending you a virtual hug and hope you found some encouragement for yourself or to pass on to someone who needs it.

And in case you’re looking for a book with a complicated mother-daughter relationship that has a happy ending, Braver With You is on sale this week for only 99¢. Happy reading and (hopefully, for most) Happy Mother’s Day!

Story Inspiration

Bad Girls in CCR

January 12, 2022 Jaycee Weaver30 Comments

There’s a lot of talk about bad boys in romance, even in Christian romance. Women love to read about bad boys and rebels, especially ones that turn good. But what about bad girls?

From a Christian fiction author’s standpoint, bad girls are both tricky and a joy to write for many of the same reasons. It can be difficult to create a character readers will connect with and feel compassion and even affinity toward when she’s walked a road our readers might perceive negatively.

As readers we want to see ourselves in the story, don’t we?

For a woman out there in the real world who has been redeemed, these characters are a blessing. This reader feels seen and immediately recognizes herself in the heroine. I will concede that sometimes that “bad” girl’s path may hit a little too close to home and said reader may prefer to DNF the book. Like I said, it’s tricky!

Then you have the reader of lesser-blemished past, and that’s where things can get even trickier.

Let’s say a book opens with our heroine fresh out of a stranger’s bed after a night of hedonistic choices (i.e. Jobie from my novel What Makes a Home). Right off the bat, we’ve got a lot of readers who will flip the cover to make sure they’ve got the right genre or outright DNF. I’ve even read reviews left by readers who only made it to page four then reviewed it glorifies sin then questioning the author’s salvation (none on my books, but still not ok).

You may be like me, saying, “what? They didn’t even give the author a chance to redeem her!” And yet, this still happens. Now do you understand why I say tricky?

But it’s a risk we’ll often take because redemption matters. Understanding just how far our Shepherd is willing to go for one lost sheep matters. Even in fiction.

So how do authors like me write a likable heroine with a “bad girl” past with whom readers will connect, especially if her story starts out more colorfully than more conservative readers may prefer to read or if they don’t want to read about her past at all? And how do we create a realistic portrayal of the side characters in her life, both the loving and the not-so-loving ones without offending readers?

The answer is mindfully and with a lot of prayer. LOL! Sorry, I don’t have a wittier or more insightful answer. I don’t have a magical one-size-fits-all answer because what one reader considers likable is unlikable to another, and that’s true even with the sweetest, most innocent of heroines.

What I do have, however, is a nice list of books from some of our InspyRomance authors featuring “bad girls” if you’re interested in reading their stories.

And in the comments, I’d love to hear your perspective on reading about “bad girls,” specifically in CCR and inspirational fiction. What makes you choose a book with a “bad girl” heroine or put it back on the shelf? What keeps you turning pages and cheering her on?

Here’s that list I promised you:

Jobie in What Makes a Home from yours truly—a free-living artist whose past catches up to her as God brings her home.

Haven in Aspen Crossroads by Janine Rosche—her small town has more than its fair share of small-minded folk, but Haven knows firsthand the value of a second chance, so she’ll do anything to give newcomers a chance at theirs.

Dixie in Valerie Comer’s Dancing at Daybreak—thought she found love with her third child’s father until he found Jesus, now everything’s changed and she’s determined not to.

Mindy in Regaining Mercy from Carolyn Miller—the girl from the “wrong side of the tracks” endures plenty of judgment from her island townsfolk, but will she trust in a love that sees more than who she was?

Deb Kastner’s Angelica in And Cowboy Makes Three—she left him at the altar, and now she’s back, unwed with a baby in tow, willing to withstand the gossip to honor her grandmother’s memory.

Jade in Valerie M. Bodden’s Not Until Us—any girl in town would make a better pastor’s wife than Jade, whose bad-girl past is no secret, but will they listen to gossip or their Father’s voice?

Elizabeth Maddrey has at least three “bad girl” heroines, but my favorite is Lydia in Wisdom to Know. She’s a rebellious pastor’s daughter on a self-destructive path with a best friend who knows she’s the One… but is there a sin love can’t cover? Don’t miss Sara in A Tidbit of Trust or Serena from Cookies & Candlelight!

I’m sure there are more, so let’s stick with contemporary Christian romance titles if you make suggestions in the comments! Thanks for hanging out with me today!

about me · inspirational · Uncategorized

Bouncing Back!

April 3, 2018April 4, 2018 Jaycee

It’s a good day. Why? I’m still alive and kicking, that’s why.

About a week ago now, I had major surgery. I knew it was coming, and I was mostly prepared for it. I’ll back up.

So last August, I had some severe abdominal pain that I wasn’t sure was appendicitis, gall bladder, ovarian cyst, or what. I had signs that it could be any of the above and it was the devil. Within a couple of weeks, though, I had some nice images of a lovely uterine nodule that was embedded in the too-thick lining of my too-big uterus as well as signs of pretty angry cysts in both ovaries. I was able to get into a specialist here in town (who I instantly adored) after a second round of ultrasounds showed the same thing, only better and worse in different ways. By round three, that pesky nodule had grown and looked cranky.

She recommended we take the uterus since I’ve been blessed with my three girls and we’ve been done having babies for a while. We made the plans, I dealt with the frequent pain from those cysts and nodule cycling through, well, my cycle, and protesting their frustrations loud and proud. Life goes on. I prepared best I could at home, getting the house spic and span like any neurotic recovering perfectionist would, making meals for the freezer that could be cooked later, teaching the kids how to do laundry and other things. The night before I made sure everyone understood the depth of my love. And that if the worst happened, they better remember never to bury me or have an open casket of any kind, ever, because I will come back and angry haunt them. Nuh uh, no way. They already knew that, of course, because I’ve made my opinion known on that lots of times. I’m kind of morbid like that.

And then, I spent most of the night before praying and reminding the Lord that while I love Him and look forward to being in glory, eternity can wait another 50 years, thank you very much. If that’s His will, of course. But seriously, Lord. Not til I’m 90 something, okay? A thousand years is but a day to Him and all that. These are the thoughts of a crazy lady trying not to let anxiety rule before the scariest surgery of her life. I’d put off processing my emotions really until that night like any good procrastinator does. (Side note, that’s what procrastination usually is–perfectionism delayed because we don’t want to face failure or fear or flaws.)

Anyway, my incredibly wonderful hubby and I go into the hospital while normal, sane people are still asleep and get checked in and prepped. My mom gets there and we’re joking around until I get one little dose of meds in the IV and wake up hours later sore and woozy. Weirdest experience ever, waking up somewhere else knowing your body’s been sliced and yanked and sewn up without your awareness. Surgery takes a whole lot of faith for a control freak.

So now it’s been almost a week. I’ve been mostly resting while trying not to command the troops too forcefully. They’re all amazing, by the way. Friends showing up with dinner, family helping care for and cart around the kids, and my immediate gang pitching in often and wonderfully.

It’s still not all smooth sailing, though. Bouncing back is hard work.

It’s hard to rest when you’re used to doing and doing. It’s hard to let others help you and shut your mouth because they’re not doing it your way, even when you realize expecting that is so rude and makes you sound like a controlling monster. It’s hard when your heart is grateful but your mind is frustrated that you only have the energy for a few minutes’ walk to the bathroom and to get water before you have to rest again. It’s hard when you know that everyone already has so much on their plates that you don’t want to add more, which is why you do everything you do in the first place. It’s hard when you can’t alleviate those burdens and need to be on the receiving end. It’s hard to express that you’re thankful for what everyone is doing but you’re a jumbled mess.

It’s hard when your body is just realizing that all of its normal hormone-balancing parts are gone and the job is left to one little lone ovary to figure herself out. It’s hard when the emotions start processing whether you want them to or not, and suddenly you’re crying buckets one minute and wanting to hit something the next, trying not to get hurt over stupid things, still needing to intervene when the kids are bickering, and yet wanting to crawl into a hole and sleep for days ALL IN THE SAME HOUR. It’s hard when every day feels different, physically and emotionally.

The good news is, it’s temporary. I’m still here and taking more steps forward than back. I’m learning new things everyday about myself, about my strengths and weaknesses. Realizing changes I need to make within myself to better serve my family like I’m supposed to be. Why is it we so easily become stuck in our ruts and routines and don’t realize the things we’ve let slide until there’s a major upheaval?

So I’m grateful I needed this procedure. Sure, there’s a lot of hard stuff to face and deal with afterward. Physically, emotionally, even spiritually. But it’s going to be so much better in the long run. There’s a lot to look forward to physically once I’ve healed, but it’s the emotional and spiritual journey that this has kickstarted I’m most looking forward to. I’m not yet all that I want to be, and God let me wake up afterward so that I can get there. He’s given me time and the desire to make things better and become who He’s made me to be. He’s reignited my eternal spark of hope that’s getting ready to burst into flame once more for Him, for His will in me, in my life, and in my family. For that, I’d go through all of the hard stuff a thousand times, and worse. Because like Romans 5:3-5 says:

“Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.”

It’s spring, and I’m alive. There is hope, for those who take the seasons of upheaval and persevere to learn something. I don’t want to miss my chance. So while there’s not a lot I can do right now as I recover physically, there’s a lot I can do inside (or rather, a lot Jesus can do in me). I’m not going to waste this season.

Come on, Jesus!

inspirational · Uncategorized

Hope and Glory

April 1, 2018April 4, 2018 Jaycee

Hope. That’s the word that most often comes to mind when I think of how spring feels. But, even though flowers and eggs have replaced pumpkins and leaves in our decor, the need for thanksgiving hasn’t been replaced in my heart.

Today is Easter, a day that represents so much. And with all that it represents, all that it means, my heart is full of too much to find the right words to adequately express how I feel today. So I will give glory instead.

Glory to God for His care of me.

Glory to God for His care of my family.

Glory to God for inspiration, perseverance, and mercy.

Glory to God for miracles that still happen, big and small, seen and unseen.

Glory to God for grace unending. Grace that covers a multitude of shortcomings. Grace that gives new life and new hope and says that you’re never too far gone to make a course correction.

Glory to God for His Love. Love that said, “I can’t bear the thought of eternity without my people. I will make a way.” Love that looked within and said, “My Son will be that way. The way, the truth, the life.” Love that the built the bridge across the divide with a pure and humble life and set a living example for how to live freely and get along with others, even when they hate you for it. Love that was taunted, assaulted, and broken without fighting back. Love that was bloodied and brutalized and mocked. Love that then prayed His forgiveness for all of those things and all of the things hundreds of generations had yet to do as He wheezed His last breaths. Love that died on a cross in this world, defeated the devil in the next, and came back to this world on the Third Day. Love that could’ve said, “Ha! In yo’ FACE!” but said, “Check out my scars. I told you this would happen and that when all seemed lost I’d be back.” Love that sent His Spirit to stick around forever, so that though the devil still had the freedom to play and mess with the world, His Spirit would lift up believers and remind them they’re never alone and there’s still victory. That someday, He’d be more than just spirit again and we’d see His face and though bodies might die and journeys might not be easy, burdens might not be light, we come to Him and it’s better. Because Love conquers all. Love wins. Even when all seems lost, there is Hope on the Third Day because LOVE IS.

Glory to the One who called Himself I AM. Because He Is. And because God is Love, so Love Is. Before, during, after; a circle that never starts or stops. He just is, His love just is, and it’s yours if you only believe and call Him.

Glory to the One who calls me. Calls me His child, calls me to Him, calls me to live and breathe and do. Calls you.

There’s so much more I’d love to write, but that’s all I’ve got today. Be blessed. Love others. Snuggle a little closer to the One who loves you. His arms are open, ready, and waiting. You’ve never gone too far that you can’t come home again. You are loved. Never, ever lose hope. Because just like spring comes after the losses of fall and the dead of winter, a new season of life and love and beauty will come for you, too. There is always hope.

about me · inspirational · Uncategorized

Connection isn’t just a buzz word.

February 28, 2018April 4, 2018 Jaycee

Cue deep breath, followed by long sigh. Okay. I can write now.

So it’s been awhile, and I’m not the most faithful at blogging. Not that I have a ton of subscribers to impress anyway, nor is that my goal. So what is my goal, you ask? Easy. I just want to have a place to write and share a little of who I am.

In this crazy busy world of polarized opinion over-sharing and character counts, I’m looking for a little something more.

Connection. I think that’s ultimately what we all crave.

Our need for connection is woven into the very fiber of our existence. We seek connection within ourselves, the world around us, in relationships with other people, and especially spiritually. Connecting ourselves to new information, texts we read, things we hear, and pretty much every experience we have is actually a vital element to learning even from a young age. We feel positively about the things we connect with personally.

So. Connection. It’s one of those buzz words all over the place these days, as people begin to realize how we’ve allowed ourselves to become isolated. And we have done this.

We join social media, but become disheartened by the climate there or distracted and disillusioned by the highlights we see peeking in on others’ lives. Maybe we take the time now and then to connect in person. Maybe we don’t. We spend a little too much time inside working, living, doing. We’re busy. Some of us put ourselves out there over and over again and receive bupkiss in return. Or, if you’re like me, you make really great friends for a while and then–bam!–they move away. (So many times! I tell you, if you want to leave Albuquerque, let’s be friends. I try not to feel cursed.)

But I digress.

So many of the problems on the rise in our country could be resolved and prevented by this one simple concept of truly connecting. Think about it. Suicide rates, school shootings, racial tensions, the polarization of public opinions. Yes, there are extenuating factors making each issue more complex. But at the very heart of things, as we lose face-to-face connection with other people, as we focus more on ourselves, as we keep from doing the things we love and enjoy, spend more time indoors and less in nature, we lose more and more connections. The very connections that make us who we are as a person, but also as a people.

So how do we find connection when we have an infinite list of reasons to remain distracted, isolated, withdrawn, or in our little family bubble?

I find it’s easiest to start physically. I’ve recently gone back to practicing yoga, and my Christ honoring instructor pointed out how important it is we feel connected to the very ground under our feet. She wanted us to really feel the floor with our hands and feet while the rest of our bodies are twisting like pretzels. And guess what? It makes sense. That physical connection opened my heart back up to checking out the world around me, and looking for other broken connections.

When I look up and around, the first thing my eyes are always drawn to are the Sandia Mountains.

This isn’t even that great of a shot. But look at those pretty Watermelon Mountains (in case you wondered what Sandia means). Every time I look at them, I marvel at the way they never look the same. And I mean never. You could do a time-lapse over a year and it would be a crazy mix of colors, clarity, brightness, depth, and mystery. I could write an ode or sonnet about all the things I love about my mountains. As long as I can see them, I feel connected to my home. I come back to ABQ from a long trip, and as soon as I catch sight of them my heart wants to leap from its chest and sing, “I’m home! I’m home!” Sure, they’re small compared to the mountains further north or across the world, but they’re mine.

When I turn away from the mountains to face west, I catch an expanse of the most incredible sky in the world. Yes. I said that. New Mexico has incredibly blue skies, and the sunsets here are like nowhere else. Whenever I’m driving westward in the late afternoon, I feel like God has painted a spectacular work of art just for me. Just. For. Me. I don’t care how many people live here and see it. He did it for me, and you can’t tell me differently. Because connecting to the artistry and beauty of creation opens my heart and spirit to connect with God himself. And a spiritual connection is ultimately what we’re all created for in the first place. So get out there and connect to your world, your environment. Experience it. Put down the distractions more often and let your love for a place ground you and start healing those wounded places.

Once you’ve reset yourself again, you’re ready to get out there and make human connections again. And let’s face it. We all go through seasons of isolation and withdrawal. We get tired and frustrated and it’s easier to not put ourselves out there anymore to avoid the hurt. Or we become “too busy,” allowing our busy-ness to make us feel more important and significant. All that does is elevate us onto a different plane away from the very thing we need most, other people. Even you introverts out there. You need your people. Small, controlled doses with plenty of solo time after, but you need them, too. And you extroverted introverts (like me) who need to be surrounded by people, but it’s like pulling teeth to get you there past the dread and temptation to cancel. I see you, I know how you are. Suck it up, buttercup, and make a plan with somebody and stick to it. You need it.

I won’t go on about all the ways we can foster our interpersonal connections because what each of us needs varies greatly from person to person. I just want to encourage you to find a small way to actually do it. Start with your little world around you. Throw yourself back into something that you love, or pursue that person you’ve lost touch with. Reconnect with your faith, even if it’s just a quick prayer of “Hey, God, I’m still here. Sorry I’ve ignored you lately.”

Make one connection today, and maybe another one tomorrow.

If we all just got outside ourselves for a minute, think of the good we could do in this world.