Clarice James

Smart, Fun, Relatable Fiction


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Posies, Puppies, & Posterior

I’m back—but then you knew I couldn’t stay away long. I’ve got a lot to say. Mainly, THANK YOU to everyone who’s prayed, sent cards, emailed, texted, called, and dropped off meals while my husband, David, continues on the high and low roads to recovery.

posies puppy and posterior

Three of the many cards we received. *Cheek not David’s.

I love all those . . .

  • Who kept in touch since you first heard the Acute Myeloid Leukemia diagnosis and said, “Let me know if I can do anything.”
  • Who sent just the right card—or multiple cards!
  • Who sent daily Scripture verses.
  • Who only know us through Facebook, yet offered to pray.
  • Who wrote and spelled every word right (well, most of you but you all get a pass this time). 🙂
  • Who happened upon my blog, read it, and commented.
  • Who cooked and/or baked or bought something delicious for us. (Downside for you: I will blame you for my weight gain.)

Because I have a weird sense of humor (and need material for my next book), I even love those who said stuff like this . . .

  • “You look tired. And I’m going to tell you every time you do.” [That was you, Deb.]
  • “I’ve heard of AML. I think my aunt died from that.”
  • “Did the doctors tell him the treatment could damage his vital organs?”
  • “How do you feel about your husband having cancer?”

Seriously, these friends are the ones who feel close enough to speak what’s on their minds and in their hearts. One of them crocheted my husband a prayer shawl and a matching hat in a week. Another prays with her granddaughter that David won’t get a fever. One offered to keep me company on one of my many trips into Boston. One made sure we had pie on π Day. Another offered to lend David one of her wigs—chin strap included! All of them have kept me laughing!

When someone is battling illness, it’s hard not to let it define you. Early on, that was my first prayer with David. “This is cancer, it’s not us. We are Christians. We have faith. We know what the ultimate future holds. We are not afraid.” We’ve had to repeat that statement a few times, but only because we are also human.

While the hardest part for me is seeing my husband sick, for those who know David, the hardest part for him is not being around (or able) to help me. His love language is service—particularly service to me. I am blessed!

We’re trying to live as normally as possible, but it’s hard to do.  First, because we’re not that normal to begin with. Second, we have a visitors’ ban in place. We haven’t seen children and grandkids since Christmas! As soon as David’s blood counts level out, that will change!

Since David felt so bad when I had to cancel my book launch celebration originally scheduled for January 31, he encouraged me to go ahead and have the celebration anyway. So, on Sunday, April 10–which happens to be the day before the Red Sox opener at Fenway–we will celebrate Double Header, my first published novel. God has good timing, I think.

I would love to see you there. If you have a copy already, bring it to be autographed. If you have one that’s autographed, come anyway to celebrate with me and enjoy some ballpark-style refreshments!

So I know how much food to have on hand, please register on EventBrite at http://tinyurl.com/zbntf2b.

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Every card reflects the richness of family and friends.

“But what happens when we live God’s way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely.” ~ Galatians 5:22-23 (MSG)

 

 

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In My Humble Opinion

Humble PieIf you ask me for my humble opinion, I will give you that and more: I will help.

My tagline reads: “Writer ~ Editor ~ Encourager.” I find joy in giving others encouragement, in any way I can, even if I have to force feed it to them.

A few years back, my son told me that his wife would love my help decorating their new house. In the past, I’d helped my daughter and my friends with decorating projects, so this was a task I could handle. Still, as a mother-in-law, I checked with him twice.

As soon as I got his okay, I started making the rounds of my favorite stores, filling my trunk with samples: area rugs, lamps, artwork, pillows, vases, curtains, and blanket throws. I was sure I’d hit the mark with many of my purchases.

Good thing I kept the receipts; I was wrong. Turns out my daughter-in-law did a perfectly fine job on her own.

[I can hear you, you know. Yes, I should have checked with her first.]

In the writer’s critique group I founded, members often ask about the publishing process. I have given talks on it, handed out lists of books on the subject, conducted workshops, and emailed them links to multiple industry-related blogs. “Overwhelm” is the word that comes to my mind—and theirs.

A few months ago, a friend asked me to review their church’s new website. They’d been working on it for a while and needed another set of eyes. I went through every page, read every word, checked every jot and tittle, looked at every graphic, and commented on it all in a five-page report. No half-hearted efforts on my part! I doubt they will ask me again.

Recently, a young man wanted my feedback on his fundraising letter. I attacked the task with vigor, practically re-wrote the whole dang thing. When I was done, it sounded nothing like him, but a lot like me. He used very few of my suggestions. Gee whiz, why not?

My husband is fond of saying, “People really don’t want your opinion; they just want to hear their own opinion in someone else’s  voice.”  I don’t want to believe he is right, but I’m having second thoughts.

Or could it be that I need to dial it back a bit? Perhaps I should ask people to be more specific in their requests? Maybe I could ask myself why I think I know what’s right for them? Or maybe I could just say no?

Or . . . could it be that my humble opinion isn’t so humble? My conundrum: And how will I know when it is?

Tell me, please  . . . in your humble opinion.