Dancing Through the Forest

I feel like half of life is just surviving it. Which I hate saying because…I mean, we are supposed to enjoy life, aren’t we? All the movies, all the books, all the inspirational speeches…everything talks about finding joy in life. Not letting it overwhelm you, or getting too caught up in your career, money, hardships, the list goes on and on. But that is so much easier said than done. It really is. Which is one of the reason that my brand is finding hope through hardship, not after hardship – because if it isn’t one thing, it’s another. There will always be hard times. There will always be the days, weeks, months where you are just waiting for the next thing, breathing a sigh of relief when a day or a season is done, and no matter how many people and articles tell you to enjoy the moment, it is next to impossible to communicate that to your brain, let alone your emotions.

This month has been a combination of hard and joyful for me. Typical life, right?

1. COVID. That lost me an entire week, and was not fun.
2. I started a newsletter! I am grateful because it was actually fun to write! And because I already have almost 60 subscribers and the first issue doesn’t come out until tomorrow. Seriously, all of your support makes me feel warm and sappy.
3. I read a hilarious 19th century novel and recorded a podcast that will come out soon – don’t forget to check my Gibson Girl Review page for updated links!
4. I got a manuscript rejection from an agent I really, really wanted. Well, mostly a rejection. She said to come back when my newsletter subscribers were in the hundreds (any interest in helping me get there?). That incited an evening of tears, imposter syndrome, arguing with my husband when he tried to remind me that my definition of success might not be the same as God’s, vaguely considering giving up writing, and, finally, succumbing to the inevitability that God truly does have the best plan for me and it might not include the agent I thought it would. And that just means something better is in the future. And that’s okay.
5. A planning retreat with the ACFW Virginia board, in which we got together and planned the rest of the year, including conference themes, fun things for our members, and lots and lots of graphics for me to make.

And, 6. The hardest thing of this month has been nothing compared to the person it actually affects. My sister, Brittany, after a horrible few months of paralysis issues, seizures, eye pain, memory loss, and a whole lot of other issues, was diagnosed with an autoimmune encephalitis. She has had to give up everything, right down to moving to another house, away from her husband and five children, to keep her symptoms under control, and if it devastates me this much, I can only imagine the toll it is having on her, and, half a country away, all I can do is text or call her. She has been so gracious though, and, especially on her good days, far more trusting in God that I think I would be in her situation. It, I think, requires the very epitome of the hope through hardship concept – looking for the bright, idyllic spots that offer hope in an otherwise very dark forest, and she is good at it. But some days it is harder. Like the day they found out that, although there is a treatment, insurance won’t cover it. And the out-of-pocket cost is $10,000 a month. Completely unachievable. So, I suppose I will end this post with two things.

First, please pray for my sister. And if you want to help her either find a treatment or at least a way she can return home, please consider donating to her GoFundMe. Secondly, she is going through one of the worst things someone can right now, and still she finds those drops of hope to bring her through, living one day after another, and I’m going to share some of her words as she picks her way through this forest:

I am in a slow dance.

For a long time I was a bystander… and then I learned to dance. It was thrilling and I never wanted to stop. But the song changed. I could have quit- but I didn’t. Slow dances are more about building relationships and the longer I practice it- the more I value it. This is beautiful too. Just a different kind of beauty.

What dance are you in? Dance where you are and don’t stop when the music changes.

Brittany Parker