You Are Where You Need to Be

 “You are exactly where I want you to be.”

Those words trigger a powerful memory for me. Mike and I go to Stable Faith Cowboy Church in Brooksville, Florida. And yes, it is a true cowboy church, rooted, if you will, in agriculture. 

A church devoted to planting seeds and reaping crops…both literally and figuratively. 

Stable Faith Cowboy Church

Back to this past Sunday. I was sitting in church. The music was, as usual, wonderful. A thought came to me. Almost audible. It was a thought I’d had before. More than once. It was as if God was speaking directly to me saying, “You are exactly where you need to be.”

The first time this happened was in India. My youngest daughter and I traveled with a group from her church to work with young women who had been rescued from human trafficking. I say “women,” but the truth is, some of the girls we served were mere children.

Kendall asked me to take this trip with her the spring after I lost my husband. Tom died in late October of 2014.  I agreed, then almost immediately considered backing out.  Instead, I prayed about it. The trip was scheduled for April 2015. I decided to leave it up to God. 

I had a valid passport, but it turns out that for the trip, it had to be valid for at least six months after the end date of the trip. Mine was shy by a month. I applied for a new passport, silently thinking this may be God’s way of letting me out of the whole thing. 

The new passport was quickly returned to me and good for another stretch. So, Kendall and I raised the funds, attended the training, boarded the plane in April of 2015, and traveled halfway around the world to serve these sweet, hurting girls. 

For me? It was the broken serving the broken. 

The program was simple. We offered something akin to VBS (Vacation Bible School) and were sitting on the floor in a large room at a hotel of sorts in India. We were waiting for one small group to finish their task before moving on to the next activity. I felt someone behind me. I turned, but there was nobody there. I stretched my legs out in front of me and looked up at the still blank screen, waiting for the music to begin and lyrics to pop up. 

Inked Hands...Serving Others...

That’s when I heard that voice. “You are exactly where you need to be.”  I turned around. There was still no one behind me. I didn’t say anything about it for a long time. Afterall, people might think I’m crazy.

In 2017, one of my former students from the college contacted me and asked me to take her place as a fourth-grade teacher in Kosovo for the 2017-2018 school year. She wanted to come back to the States to give birth to her first child.  I prayed about it and three weeks later boarded an airplane for Europe. 

A mere three weeks? Yep. I had a valid passport. God can see around the corners.

That year was a year of healing for me. I grew not only in my faith, but I realized I was a capable adult in my own right. By myself. Not as Tom’s wife. Not as a mom. Me. I returned to the United States when the school year ended.

Those same words, “You are exactly where you need to be,” washed over me when I married Mike in 2023. 

And then again, as I said, this past Sunday. 

I may not know exactly why. Yet. But I trust in God’s plan for me. He has never let me down. Moreover, I know He never will.

Luck of the Irish

March brings with it the beginning of Spring. I love that. And as I write this, it brings to mind the celebrations surrounding St. Patrick’s Day. I must admit, though, growing up I had no idea why we wore green on March 17 and why we would get pinched if we didn’t have a smattering of green somewhere on our person.

Meet Author Cindy Thomson
And yes, that's me with my granddaughter.

One teacher I had in elementary school handed

each of us not wearing anything green a piece

of green construction paper. We traced around

a plastic pattern and cut out shamrocks. We

pinned them on our clothes before lunch or

recess to keep us from getting pinched.  

I had no idea why anyone would pinch us, but 

that was the concern.

I didn’t learn anything about St. Patrick or the

 day celebrated in his honor until third or fourth grade.

And then as an adult, I met Cindy Thomson. 

Cindy is an author living in Ohio. Cindy writes

books set in Ireland. Her books are so well

written, you can smell the damp earth beneath

the feet of the characters and feel the crisp 

chill in the air. 

If you have any notion you’d like an authentic

Irish tale, check out one of her stories. You can

find them on Amazon. 

And I included a picture of my sweet

granddaughter when she and I went to the Irish 

Festival in Ohio. She was thrilled to meet Cindy 

Thomson in person.

Did you wear green on St. Patrick's Day? Just curious...

And...What other holiday traditions left you confused?

Second Guessing and Self Doubt

 Overcoming Second Guessing and Self-Doubt

I’ve always said you know you’re on the right track when the Evil One works hard to mess with you.

In early January I sent a manuscript to a publishing house I respect. I started in on another story while I prayed and waited to hear if they accepted my book.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited some more. 

I didn’t expect an answer right away, but there was always a part inside of me hoping to see something from the publisher every time I opened my email. It’s the way of things. 

February came. February, even in Florida has a gloom to it. I started second guessing myself and my ability to craft another novel. I submitted a couple of short stories to Chicken Soup for the Soul and a children’s story to Clubhouse Magazine. 

Now I was waiting for more than one publisher to respond. I was waiting for a response on the book, two true stories, and a fiction piece for children. I wasn’t hearing anything from anybody. Midway through February I started second guessing my ability to write anything at all. 

Second guessing yourself is, I believe, a tool the Evil One uses to frustrate or upset us. He hopes we will get off track and give up hope. He’s crafty that way. 

I was tempted to give in to his trickery but decided to keep writing and submitting and doing my best anyway. I had started a sweet romance series a few years ago, so I picked it up and started work again on the trilogy. 

Book one was complete. I finished book two and started book three. A few questions in book three caused me to go back to book one and make a revision so it all made sense. That made me recheck book two and…so it went. I was writing in circles. I even had to redraw a map of the town where this all takes place so I could make sure my characters didn’t go down the wrong street!

I was working at my craft and the feeling of doing what I was meant to do was returning. I pushed aside the fears and self-doubt. I love it when I find that sweet spot. I write with confidence, knowing I have something to say yet knowing also, revision is my friend, not my enemy. 

Then, last Saturday, March 7, I opened my email. The publishing house has accepted my novel! I squealed out loud! I felt like I’d punched the Evil One in the nose…And it felt so-o-o good!

Do you have a dream? Stay the course.

By the way...to stay up to date on what's happening, follow my Facebook Author page: Rebecca Waters and have a wonderful day!

 

Green Thumb

 Can You Inherit a “Green Thumb?”

My grandmother had a green thumb. She could grow anything. My mother has always been able to grow beautiful flowers and colorful vegetables. 

My oldest daughter is like that. Allison can start a plant with a seed or broken stem or bit of root. I’m not kidding. She can grow anything and has a houseful of plants to prove it.

The bulk of that innate ability to grow anything and everything obviously skipped a generation. Mine. 

I am not a “plant whisperer” like my daughter or grandmother. I generally require seeds and directions. I’ve planted many a garden and grown vegetables for my family. I’ve managed to do well with outdoor plants. 

Particularly those that live on neglect.

I surprised myself when I saw a beautiful shrub outside a hotel in Kissimmee, Florida. I told Mike I wanted to grow one like it even as I pinched off a sprig of the greenery. 

I wrapped it in a damp napkin and we headed home.

Back at the house, I found a jar, created a “holder” for the sprig from a piece of cardstock, and set my little plant-to-be on a table on our back porch. And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Did I mention I waited?

Yep, more waiting.

And then? 

I started seeing some little nubs of roots starting to form. I made sure I kept water in the jar. 

And now? Now, seven months later, the plant’s roots are developing nicely. I’m ready to put my little plant in some potting soil. 

It’ll still need some tender loving care for a bit, but one day, I’m hopeful a beautiful shrub will grow in our flowerbed. I may have a touch of that green thumb after all.

We’ll see. One down. A thousand to go.

But like I always told my students as I sent them out to recess, "Everything needs dirt, water, and sunshine to grow."