Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Monday, May 30, 2011

Is Chat a Problem?

I have a slight problem.

During my time on the internet, after I started to drift away from OYAN, I became more and more popularly accessible through chat.

Now, I love chat. Don't get me wrong. I love all my people that want to talk to me, that choose to talk to me, and that put up with me. I love the variety of conversations, the happy chatter, the many people I can talk to at once.

One of the most important things in life to me is my friends. Being there for people, listening and praying for them, trying to encourage them in their walk with the Lord. As far as I'm concerned, one of the greatest reasons the Lord put me on this planet is to bless the lives of others, and I really, really want to do that. Friends are more important to me than a lot of other things, and if I can put something selfish on one side to do that, then I will.

But recently, as I get more involved with the blogging side and also with other internet sites, (and my emails), I find the pressure to chat becoming more intense. I leave myself signed in for two reasons: a) people worry if they haven't seen me online in 24 hours (shows you how bad I am! Haha!) and b) I can't remember the various passwords I have for my four chat servers.

Another thing is that my emails suffer tremendously. As I became a chat freak, I deserted my emails for the easier option of on-hold, one liner chats and deserted the harder method of long, carefully written emails.

Some things that I've noticed during this is that I've lost a few of my friends along the way, because I don't take time out to organise myself online. Two, I've lost my habit for forming well written paragraphs and phrases. As I've been more online, I've dropped my blogging, my writing and my diary keeping because of my chats.

Sure, I'm not blaming it all on chat. Half of it is my inability to control my time on various sites.
And I'm very wary of the responses I'm going to get to this, because some of my very sensitive siblings could take it as a direct affront that I don't want to chat to them any more. Dears, this isn't for that. Honestly. I love chatting to you and if I could do it all day every day I would. But I actually need to consider whether chatting to you all day or whether writing my blog posts, getting more involved with Christian forums and starting to write again with interest is going to serve more than constantly being on chat.

See, another reason I don't want to leave chat is because I know that often over the course of a day or two, someone will really need to talk, and I don't like not being there when that happens.
Please, drop me an email and I'll do my best to respond. Honestly, I really want to hear your problems and pray for you, but I can't physically carry on sticking with chat all the time, especially as my lifestyle is in the process of changing drastically.

I've been attempting to balance out chat with blogging, etc, but I've had people storm off if they don't think I'm giving them enough attention, or go offline, or eventually withdraw themselves emotionally because I don't interact straight away.

Also, by the time I get to the point where the chats have slowed down, I'm too tired to even think and pray about a decent blog post or a good long email.

So I'm looking at the possibility of appearing offline on Skype, gMail, Facebook and MSN until I've finished all that I think needs to be done that day. Again, like I said, if you need me, PLEASE do not hesitate to email. And one other thing - please, please don't stop talking to me because I'm going to make this decision. When I come online (which yes, should be once a day), I want you all to treat me normally just like I hadn't been gone for most of it. Even if I'm only on for half an hour.

I'm sorry about all this...hope it doesn't upset too many of you.
Thank you. :)

God bless,

Sunday, May 29, 2011

No-Win War ~ Jane Johnson

Hey guys, check this cut from my first chapter of a new novel - No-Win War. :D Critique away!

No-Win War
By Jane Johnson

Chapter One

“We’re at war with them, as far as I’m concerned,” I said, my voice flat. “Always have been, and always will be.”

The two of them stared at me. I read faint disgust in their faces as they bowed their heads and backed out of my room.

“Ole Habo. He just doesn’t have an inkling that times CAN change.”

“No; he’s too stuck in that past of his. We’re a new generation, and things can be different. He’ll see, someday.”

“What did you say?” I called after them, but they had moved beyond hearing range.

With a weary sigh, I turned and shuffled back to my cosy leaves. The very fact they called me old signified that this new generation that I didn’t really know had lost respect for me.

Why do they even bother coming to ask advice? All they do is mock at it, even though I know better than they, and then go and pass a contrary decision in that new fangled Parley-ant of theirs.

I’m well aware that my time as Domi-Ant has all but ended, but they seem to like keeping up an illusion.

I snuggled back under my leaves.

Time to drift back off to sleep.

“Domi? Domi Habo?”

Ugh. Why did I need to be woken now?

The voice, thin and tremulous, belonged to a new attendant who’d been assigned by Parley-ant to assist me. I made an annoyed sound and stretched.

“I’m sorry, Domi Habo. They told me to wake you.”

Told me. That says it all.

“Yes, yes, Fisky. What is it?”

“I’m not really sure, Domi. They said you’re needed to attend.”

“Who said?” I queried as he helped me dust off and rise to my shaky legs, knowing what it had to be.

“Parley-ant, Domi.”

I hated that new group almost as much as I hated the lifelong enemies of my blood. Of our blood. Because, in spite of the younger generation’s refusal to believe it, they hated us without end.

“What right has Parley-ant got to get an old chap out of bed?” I grumbled to Fisky as he helped me down the sandy passages. “I need sleep. They make all the rules without listening to what I say most of the time, anyway.”

Fisky made a non-descript noise of agree/disagree. Of course, the poor boy couldn’t do anything else. He was paid by the group he knew I hated, and I was pretty sure half his job was to spy on me.


Saturday, May 28, 2011

An Act of Your Will

I didn't write this song. It's Don Francisco's. But right now, it says what I want to say more perfectly than I could if I tried.

When the weariness sets in - turn to God. When it seems easier to turn away; no matter the hurt - carry on in His strength. When the heart cries it can't do any more, take the next step forward in the supernatural almighty Hand of God.

Friday, May 27, 2011

To My Father

Dear Daddy,
I guess I'm kinda stuck on what to say. Because right now, what I'm seeing is a dual personality. I know Mommy said you were like this from the first, but I guess I never saw you like that.

This is one of the most painful things I've ever tried to write. Because I know that you'll never see it; because I know Mom would hate it. I try to bottle up about you, because if my feelings don't align with everyone else's, they get misunderstood or condemned.

They say that every little girl believes her Daddy is a knight in shining armour. I never was fool enough to believe that, and as our fights, verbal and nearly physical, worsened over the last three/four years, my respect for you went to zero. I remember telling my brother at thirteen that it was over, that your lives were your lives and we had to fight our own courses now. I became brokenly independent to some degree; Joseph started fighting.

I'm watching these letters in which you're accusing Mom of stealing her belongings, saying she is capable of criminal acts; watching you change the locks, make no attempt to find out how we are, get along with your life just fine. Why, Daddy? Even after I wrote you that letter, you made no attempt to respond to me. All you could say was, "I wasn't pleased with the content of the letter." You accused me of disrespect. Daddy, I spoke from my heart...I want to love you and be proud of you so much.

I always was a Daddy's girl...until I got old enough to understand the other side. Suddenly you went from being the misunderstood and abused one to being part of the cause. I remember receiving complaints and trying to give comfort to both sides. And wishing I could mend it, a little.

I never thought what you did was wrong. I don't guess I ever thought about it. I mean, I hadn't got anything to compare it to. And it was only a random searching for conversation that made me ask my friend that day. Then I found out about Sam. And the other stuff.

Somehow I can't associate all this with the Daddy who used to tuck me in, buy me sausage rolls when just you and me went out, who I could pout and you'd buy me a bag of sweets.

I'm crying now as I'm writing. Great, big salty tears rolling one after the other silently down my face. If you saw them, Daddy, would you care? I can't believe how selfish I'm seeing you.

I saw you three times. Twice I shrieked your name involuntarily and reached out to you - and Daddy, you didn't see me, and you didn't care. It's kinda representative of all our life, isn't it, Daddy? You never were there for Jose. I see in the way he goes from man to man - even guys his own age - even through his distorted condition - he goes searching for a man who he can look up to and respect. Me, I guess I spent all my time wasting it looking for a protector. You protected me - in the wrong way. And never loved me or Jose the way we needed to be loved.

It's kind of an accusatory letter, too, isn't it, Daddy? I don't know. So many mixed up...I'm swiping a hand over my tearstained cheeks and thinking of you on the computer tonight, like you've been on and off ever since. Or sleeping peacefully, ready to start building your life again when all this is over. But Daddy, it will never be over.

How can you put us away so easily? Mommy saw you in town. You were laughing, happy, smiling, with your brother and sister, in a way you've never been with us.

I'm so tempted to think the last twenty years have been a waste, Daddy. Except I know that God wanted me here. Why He wanted me here as produce of a hated and broken marriage, I don't know. But I know He brought me here to glorify His name - and no matter where I come from, He loves me.

He's the only Father I have now. I guess this is goodbye, since you voluntarily rendered yourself more dead to me than death. I cannot even grieve at a graveside. Only in my heart.

Dishes. Late nights. Computers. Joseph. Temper. The chickens. Locking us out.

Sausage rolls. Laurel and Hardy. Westerns. Hot chocolate. Cheese on toast. Scat. The birds you used to rescue.

The last time we locked eyes. I will never see you again, when this is over.

Oh Daddy...I could've loved you so much if you'd let me.

Your daughter,

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

When It's Bedtime...

I'm chatting away to Calleigh and Eagles, and fully conscious that in my blogspot there are four blogs sitting to be written, and many more splattered through my head.
So I have a squash (drink!) and a chocolate bar beside my bed, ready to provide me energy, snuggle into my camo sleeping bag, pull up my fluffy raw quilt and get ready to type.

Blogs I've wanted to do on singleness, my own story, an update, writing on something that happened the other day, modesty at home, Beauty and the Beast, songs from Enchanted, songs from Hairspray, my jewellery, examining what we look for in a partner for marriage - all crowding in on me.

But you know, one of the worst things to do is to switch off that main light, to curl up underneath the warm fluffy quilt and put one's head on those two soft, comfy pillows...and then the internet connection dies...and you wait......

And yes. I fell asleep. Needed messages to write. Needed blog posts to do. I missed four chats with people I love talking to, respect, and/or rarely chat to. So yes. I'm annoyed at myself. *sigh*

Now, what can I write at 4am...?

Saturday, May 14, 2011

I Am Jane

My introductory OYAN topic reads as follows:

"I am Jane.

Jane Johnson. The Brit.

Some of you have never heard of me. Some of you have heard fact that is stranger than fiction. Some of you recognise me as legendary as Robin Hood. I hear fables and fantasies woven around my name that startle me.

Now is your chance to see the real me.

I have changed since I joined OYAN at 15 years of age. I am now approaching 19, and though I rarely visit (for now), I always feel like I'm coming home when I step onto a topic or see my friends gather round, or even occasionally step inside the chat. I never find a chat stay solemn for long when I'm around.

I was a girl; now I am a young woman. I've gone through some fairly unusual trials and troubles, some brought on myself, others sent to bless. Yes, to bless, for God has taught me how to see His hand in the troubles.

I am British - 3/8 English, 1/8 Irish and 1/2 Welsh. My real name is Sian, but I prefer Jane from my American friends, as I chose that for my pseudonym at the age of 8. I have published one book, "Poiema", and entered the '09 OYAN Writing Contest with "Knights in Red Coats". I have thirteen books + underway, and have for several years.

I am a Bible believing, born-again Christian, and while still striving to change the world, I know I must change first and be open to the Hand of God touching me in any area of my life to transform me to His image.

I am a Rebelutionary and a former Air Cadet Corporal in the Royal Air Force sub-branch the Air Training Corps.

Most of my friends are American; someday I would like to come over there to live.

My life at present is a strange mixture of exciting and boring. In the world's eyes, it is boring. In mine, every day with Jesus Christ is an adventure.

On OYAN, I am known by three titles - The Queen of Nicknames, The Queen of the Order of Purity and Virtue, and the Queen of OYAN. I've never claimed the last title, I mention it but for the reason that people know me by that name.

I am Jane. Treat me as an equal. Not as a legend. You'll find I'm quite ordinary.

I look forward to meeting more of you in the future. God bless!"

Sometimes I really think I'd like to write my larger story. God could use it to bless so many, someday, and open the doors to people's hearts...

Thursday, May 12, 2011

First Experiences

So I've had a lot of new experiences really, as God changes my life and turns it upside-down, inside-out.

I've learned to babysit, day in and day out, moving from a six-month old to five and two year olds. For a girl who wants a goal of thirty children (God and husband willing :P), maybe that's not such a bad thing!

I've learned to cope with mildly primitive living conditions, with raw emotions and trying to support other people simply by listening, to dealing with shifts and changes, to eating things I don't like, doing things I don't like.

Well, this experience was a new one, and I call it my first in home education - the reproductive system. We'll skip a small part, for while the childish candour had my sister, friends and myself in hysterical laughter, it might not be suitable for younger ears.

Jamie (5) holds up the doll that his mom uses to teach her classes. (Toni is a doula, and teaches other women.)

Jamie: "This is my baby, Rosie. Why haven't you got a baby? You('re a girl)."

Me: "Well, you see, I need a ring on my finger before I get a baby."

Jamie: *goes away and thinks about this* *returns* "How does a ring on your finger get you a baby?"

Me: "Um, well, I need a man with the ring on my finger."

Jamie: "Why do you need a man and a ring on your finger?"

Me: *deep breath* "Well, you see, um. Let's use your Daddy and Mommy as an example. See, Daddy has seeds inside of him, like seeds you put in the garden. And Mommy has eggs inside of her, like chickens. And you put the egg and the seed together, and you get a baby."

Jamie: "So babies grow?"

Me: "Yes!"

Jamie: "We'll go down town and buy you some and plant them in the garden, and then you can have a baby of your own!"

Me: "Well, you see, babies have to grow inside of their mommys' tummies."

Jamie: "How do they get in there?"

Me: "Well, it requires some kind of...operation."

End of conversation.

Kids. Don't you just love 'em! Especially when they put you on the spot.

Awesome Thought

This is probably one of the shortest blog posts I've ever written, but it's a sudden thing that struck home to me while chatting to someone about their relationship.

It's so awesome, I have to share it.

I love someone. And it's a very hard situation for me. I'm used to crushing it and refusing to let it grow, because I'm afraid of getting hurt.
Recently, I made the choice to let go of it. And I think I just saw the clearest exactly why I had to let go of controlling it.

How many of us flee from pain? How many of us sing, "Take my life and let it be consecrated, Lord, to Thee," and actually mean, "Take my life but let it be; what I can cope with, give to me"?

It's when you can't cope with the pain that God takes over. When He gives you the burden that sinks you into the ground and you surrender it back to Him, that's when He leads you into the most blessed path of closeness to Him.

Oh yes, fleeing from the pain is often because we can't control it. Don't we all like structure and order in our lives? Don't we like to know what's going on, where, when, and be in control to some degree of it? And don't we all have that fear of the unknown? Passing into the glory of His blessed presence isn't about the fear being conquered, but the fear vanishing. And not by your efforts, but by His peace.

Inexplicable. Indescribable. What an amazing God we serve.

My friend said that crushing her love was easier than accepting it.

It leaves you vulnerable and sensitive to so much more than you ever were before. All love does in varying degrees, but when you love someone in that way, it has the most power to crush you.
And it would. And it can. When you don't lean on God.

Wow, even as I'm typing this is literally slapping me in the face with a force unbelievable.

You have to lean on God and trust Him with that love to be able to love to the fullest extent - even in the face of rejection.
I've gone about it the wrong way - loving first and turning to God afterwards. I was so afraid God would take my love and trample and crush it because He didn't want a rival. How wrong I was...He works through it to glorify Himself, to demonstrate Himself, to bring us closer to Himself. And without Him, we can't truly love. Not love to the extent and capacity for which He designed us.

What God is changing in me through this is perfectly amazing. I have said the exact same thing as my friend. I still do in my rebellious moods. What girl wants to love a guy who may reject her at any time? Definitely not me. I've kicked and screamed practically all the way.

But I keep going - not for me. Not for him. But for God's will in my life. Because in my most sensitive area is where He can change the most.
Where I am most vulnerable is the opening gate to my heart, where He can reach in to touch and purify and beautify and change. And the more He enables me to love, the more I love, the more I see of Him in this love, the more I marvel at His love, and the more I praise Him in it.

Lord, painful as it is, hurting as I am and have, I praise You for the changes You're doing through it. And thank You. Thank You for giving me this love. Thank You for keeping it alight for however long is Your Will. Thank You for the lessons through it. Thank You for loving me.

In Christ,

Thursday, May 05, 2011

My Purity Ring

I wear a purity ring.

Wow. Big shock.

Actually, to my circle, yes it is. They view it as an American crazy idea I've acquired, and view even more disapprovingly the finger I wear it on - my wedding finger, saying that I should never wear a ring on that finger until I'm married

Due to the problems I've had in the past from/with lads, it was part security for me, part protection from myself. For whatever else I have been, I don't believe a woman with a ring on her finger should be interacting in any way that could be considered inappropriate with a guy. (Not that a woman without one should be, either, but for me, it's more influential this way).

I wear it on my wedding ring finger after hearing a horror story from one of my gentleman friends, who I questioned on seeing his purity ring being worn on his left hand.
He was driving around with a pastor just before a revival meeting, and the pastor stopped to invite a couple of girls on the pavement/sidewalk to the revival, adding, almost as though an incentive (joking), that my friend was single. He changed the ring right there in the car.
For me, it signifies that I am already taken, and that I belong to God. Apart from men who have no respect for marriage or "another guy's girl", my ring on that finger persuades guys that I'm already taken; and indeed, I am.

Far from the harlot I've been, God has changed me into His own daughter. An ink writing I did on my skin today reads, "Not Whore ~ God's Adored". I belong to God and no man has the right to ask me to be anything to him without my Maker's and Husband's approval.

I admit, at times it's been a battle. When a guy walked up alongside me on a cadet event, I hid my hand for a few minutes until I realised in sudden disgust, what am I doing? Denying the very thing that gives me any value?

My ring is a pretty one. It took a while to choose, but this was the only ring that fit on my rather slim finger.
It has a ruby centrepiece, with four tiny diamonds surrounding it, two each side, and two rubies on each side of that.
As time wore on with me wearing it, those jewels came to mean something to me, and I'd like to share that meaning with you.

The ruby colour is the blood of Christ, Who died to make me His own.
The trinity of them stand for Love, Hope and Faith.
"If I love God and you, I will hope in God and keep faith with Him and with you." (@Guy-if-there-is).
The clearness of those diamonds stand for purity.
The four diamonds stand for physical purity, mental purity, emotional purity and spiritual purity.

Physical - Saving myself for one man, or for God alone.

Mental - Battling any thoughts which compromise keeping myself for one man, or for God alone.

Philippians 4:8 - "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things."

Emotional - I'm still sorting that one out.

Spiritual - Doing any of the former will compromise my spiritual purity and my relationship with God. Therefore, I need to fight for all for together.

I'm drawing my own lines again, and guys, I'm asking you to help me and respect this. Much as I want and need support at times, I don't want you to be giving it me in any form of holding me or anything apart from a brief hug, virtual or reality, a promise of prayer and words of encouragement.
If you see me crying on the floor, pray for me.

I think that's all I have to say for now, so I'll wind up.

I'm not proposing all of us go and get rings. Sometimes one gets used to them and forgets the purpose anyway.
When one prays to a graven image, a portrait or a cross, the reason behind that image is lost.
When one relies on a purity ring to keep oneself pure, the purpose behind that ring is lost.

Spiritual purity will enable them all. Keep yourself pure with God, and test everything against His Word.

God bless,

Wednesday, May 04, 2011

Give Us This Day...

I was laughing inside a minute ago over this, and I just thought I'd share it with you.

I've always hated crusts. You know, how people favour parts on a chicken? Thigh, leg, breast, drumstick...and some people like bread slices, and some people like the crust.

I hate crusts. Always have. About two/three days ago, I opened a new packet of Hovis bread while making sandwiches for Mom, Jose and me, and realised I had to use a crust. Reluctantly I was about to put it on my plate, when I remembered. Joseph! I hurried into the next room.
"Jose, you do like crusts, don't you?"
Jose nodded.
"Yes, he does", from Mom.
I hurried back happily into the kitchen and dropped both crusts onto Joseph's plate, buttering them before putting the filling on.

Yay! I never eat crusts gracefully. Or gratefully.

Today we'd run out of bread. Except for two crusts. Mom, Sam and I were really hungry (Joseph was having seizures) Mom went to make a sandwich. Sam didn't want one, so it was only Mom and me.
A moment later, Mom walks out.
"We've got no bread!"
"Oh..." I said.
"But we have got two crusts. A crust and a sausage roll?"
"Sure!!" I agreed.

Minutes later, I was munching on a warm sausage roll and a crust of bread with cheese and onion filling, feeling extremely grateful as I was very hungry. And as I remembered that event two days or so ago, I started to laugh.

God has ways of making us be thankful for the small blessings we so easily despise! Thank You, Lord, for crusts of bread!

In Christ,

Monday, May 02, 2011

Blessed be the Name of the Lord

I was walking my dog the other of those forced walks I have to take when Joseph has decided to start attacking me and I have to leave my Mom and sister at his mercy in the hope that he will calm down with me, the aggravating presence, gone.

I cried as I walked. Despair. Despondency. An utter, "Oh, God, what ARE You doing." An I can't take any more. We can't.

And through the tears and mascara smears, I talked out loud to God. (And yes, this is a very selfish list. I know Mom, Sam and Joseph have lost even more.)

God, what are You doing? How much more are You going to do? Look at what I've lost. My father, who I never really had anyway. My home. My church. My belongings. My neighbours. My Squadron. My best friend, who meant more than most of any of it to me. Nearly the whole circle of my close friends. And I nearly lost my MP3 and my trip to the States, only God gave them back to me. My internet is spaced out, and I can lose it completely for two days at a time. My forearms are irritated by constantly burning, itching or dried eczema. My brother is mentally ill and causes physical fights nearly every day. I'm still trying to deal with my past. My sister's going through a divorce. And I've forgotten some things, but it doesn't matter.

One verse came into my heart. It was the same one that God showed me when I walked back from town in tears after I used £140 of my USA money for something necessary (when there was very little hope of going) and my MP3 broke - there was little hope of replacing it.

Job 1:20,21

Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head, and he fell to the ground and worshipped.
He said,
"Naked I came from my mother's womb,
And naked I shall return there
The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away.
Blessed be the name of the LORD."

In one day, Job lost his livestock, most of his servants bar four, and all of his children. And no, that wasn't the end of it. Job later lost his bodily health, all of his friends and his wife - though not physically, spiritually and emotionally.

Why? Because Satan said that Job only honoured God because God blessed him. And the Lord knew that when faith is truly based in Him, then the dark times only make faith stronger and burn brighter, but Satan thought it would destroy him.

Did Job doubt? Oh, yes. Did he question why? Definitely.
When the first lot of troubles came, "through all this Job did not sin nor did he blame God."
By the end of his bodily health's destruction and his wife's turning on him, we have this.
"But he said to her, "You speak as one of the foolish women speaks. Shall we indeed accept good from God and not accept adversity?" In all this Job did not sin with his lips."

I think Job must've rebelled in his mind at what came upon him. From being one of the most respected, honoured and wealthy men in the East, he became one of the poorest and most despised, for no apparent reason but the hand of the Lord had stopped blessing him.

In the darkest times of life is when the whirlwind of God will come upon us, and when we will come face to face with His power. Then He will speak, and we will listen. He may or may not show us why, but know that in all of it, He is making us strong in Him. Drawing us closer. Purifying us.

I don't know why God's putting me through this right now. Why God's putting any of us through this. My friends say that they are convinced God has a big plan for me in the future, but I can't see it, or even if so, how He is going to use this in that.

I go by two favourite quotes: "This too will pass" and "There is always somebody who is worse off than you."

One thing I know, however much I scream and cry against this, however much I slump to the floor and protest that I can't carry on, it's then that He carries me. It's this that draws me close to Him, even if I'm only resting in His arms.

Listen to the stillness, for it's then that you will hear His voice.