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Praying for Strangers – A Lenten Journey

Published on March 11, 2012 in Praying for Strangers Blog and Uncategorized. 2 Comments

A Continuing Lenten Journey
(And in the spirit of Lent and Love – forgive the typos)

Praying for Strangers
A Lenten Journey
Day 19 – March 11, 2012

Story Reflection
I was once trapped for three days in the belly of the whale known as the Atlanta Airport. I could write a book about those three days. You think I am kidding but I am not. It was the weirdest thing. It involved storms. A late flight. A broken down Cookie Truck on the tarmac. A thousand delayed and then canceled flights which led to reassigning passengers to another flight which in turn would be delayed and then canceled. Into Infinity and beyond. I kept calling my mother which I do frequently when I travel so that she knows I’m ok. Her question always is, “Where are you?” And on this particular trip I’d answer, “Atlanta” and only Atlanta – over and over again until my mother was pacing and saying, “Still?” And bless your heart. It involved a really horrible, cheap hotel which was not paid for by the airline because they said it was weather and not mechanical failure although one of the flights had been canceled due to – you guessed it – mechanical failure. You really need to know that I am not stretching the truth here. Hang around me long enough and you will realize that I don’t need to. The belly of the whale involved returning to the airport the next morning only to be bumped, rushed, run and canceled for the entire day. At four o’clock in the afternoon a stranger yelled, “Anyone want to rent a car and drive out of here?” And hordes of people rushed to car rental counters and began to buddy up to travel to their destinations. I rode home with three strangers and as we approached the airport in Nashville to claim our luggage that had arrived three days ago (I could have been there three days ago but kept falling for the dangling carrot of an immediate flight out) we received text alerts from the airline declaring that the last two flights we had been bumped to were now delayed. Seriously. OK – if you are one of the wonderful people working in the Atlanta airport forgive me for telling my truth my way but that’s how it came down to the penny leaving out a thousand pages.

Because of this when I am working with any booking agents, special speaking engagements or trying to help book my mother a flight I avoid Atlanta like the Black Plague. Please, I’ll beg – “Connect me through Charlotte, Memphis, or Baltimore, Dallas or Orlando but keep me out of Atlanta” (And for the record – I LOVE the city of Atlanta! I love my friends there. I love my wonderful bookstores there. I love my readers there. I just don’t want to connect through the airport. – My sister on the other hand just loves flying through Atlanta and doing a little shopping in the process so go figure – maybe it’s just me.)

Which brings me to Charlotte which is one of my favorite airports to connect through. It seems to be cheery. It has these really great white rocking chairs under skylights which each individually have little plugs next to them so that you can charge your laptop or you phone while you rock and work and wait to connect to your next flight. Never mind that I have never not even once had time to rock in them or wait for anything but am always rushing right past them on the moving sidewalks walking clippity-clip trying to make my next flight. But I aspire to have rocker time beneath those skylights someday.

This day wasn’t such. My plane landed just in time for me to breathlessly ask which gate perchance my connecting flight. And like most flights it was at the other end of the world. I huffed, puffed, ran, gathered my too heavy bag, and my rolling suitcase and made it to the new gate in time with eight minutes to spare. Which left me just enough time to step into the Ladies room of US Airways on Concourse B – Gate One which happens to have . . .

A restroom attendant. I don’t remember her name although I think it might be Natasha, but I remember her. I’ve been flying enough for this many years now to apparently have made several trips through Concourse B if she’s always stationed in the same place. Regardless, this woman has stood out to me on numerous occasions. She has a joyful attitude. She sings. She says, “God Bless you.” She makes you feel better for having been in her presence. She has a spirit of excellence about her. But on this flight, this day, she was just going through the motions saying, “Hi, how are you?” And she sat on a stool instead of singing and cleaning. “You’re tired,” I tell her her. “Yes,” she says. “I am tired.” And my heart is heavy for her. I’m down to three minutes, maybe less. I put a dollar in her box, pat her on the shoulder, say, “God bless.” She whispers, “Thank you. God bless you too.”

At some point in the last three years that woman was my stranger. I remember telling her. I remember her smile and her wishing me blessings in return. Today, I wish I could have had just a little more time with her. If I’m most fortunate, if I’m indeed connecting again through Charlotte which I haven’t even checked, I hope that steer me to Concourse B and I won’t be thinking about the rockers or the skylights but one very, tired lady that could use a little prayer and a good word.

Journal
Have you encountered people full of joy that spread a little sunshine wherever they go? Have you ever seen these same people in other circumstances? How do you lift someone up who usually does the lifting?

Small Groups
There are many ways we connect and interact with each other, with many people throughout the day. How can we be some of those who share joy and faith, confidence and well-being as we journey through life?

Prayer
Dear God, Some people seem to have been born with a joy that many of us may never experience in life. Whether it’s from happy childhoods, determinations, or some make-up in the DNA we are not all that way. However, help us in spite of this to be more a people of not just faith but joyful faith. Not just a people who treasure life but a people who grasp the meaning of that and share our moments in celebration instead of complaining. Because this life is amazing. And the people that know that, show it Amen

Big Dog Makes the Big Time

Published on June 30, 2011 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments

HOME AGAIN!

Published on May 31, 2011 in Uncategorized. 0 Comments Tags: , , , , , , , , , , .

The superpower I crave? Teleportation. After miles upon miles on book tour and miserably failing to update this blog at every turn I am safely home again. Part of the trip I journaled and I tried my best to capture the incredible comments and conversations from readers in every city. What has taken me by greatest surprise along the trip is the way that the stories of Praying for Strangers is affecting people. The way they are claiming the book as their own.

If you read through a few From the Road blogs you’ll see post from here, there, and everywhere. I’ve tried to link and capture authors I had the pleasure of seeing on the road. Most recently and working backward. I joined that incredibly gifted author of Sorrowood – Raymond Atkins. I had the pleasure of seeing Mr. Terry Kay – southern author and gentleman, meet new writers and make new friends at the Canton Art Festival where I’d blown in from Page and Palette in Fairhope, Alabama. To bed at 1am. Up at 5am with miles yet ahead of me and yes, I have the pictures to prove it. Those weary eyes do not lie. Many thanks to author Brewster Milton Robertson and his beautiful wife for driving to Fairhope to join us for the evening reading and discussion (and dinner!). The previous night a beautiful visit to Montgomery Alabama and Capitol Books. For the first incredible time I was able to walk down to the riverfront and catch a few moments of history. Thank you friend Virginia Dixon for visiting, driving while I put those feet on the dash for a few miles, and wrapping me up so much in your stories that suddenly the fuel gage announced we were driving on fumes. One very real dairy famer angel, one gas can later, we were back on the road. :) A special thank you to author Neil White and all who turned out for the reading at Square Books in Oxford. What a lovely affair. Can I move there? Okay – can I just walk and breathe the literary air?

The funny thing about writers on the road is everyone says, OH, you’ll just love (fill in the name of every city on the road) and it’s True! Only we don’t exactly get to see much normally except for the inside of a hotel room that we are ever so thankful to have! What I saw most was the view from the airplane and the lines on the highway.

Thank you Penugin/Berkley for an amazing experience and an opportunity to meet readers coast to coast!

Road Trip – Praying for Strangers

Published on April 14, 2011 in Authors, Book Groups, Books, Praying for Strangers and Uncategorized. 0 Comments

In Greenville, SC and Charleston bound. Every city holding a different grace and nuance. Every bookstore abounding with stories I want to read. Every person that visits a signing or luncheon someone I wish I had time to pull up a chair with and get to know better. This trip started only days ago after a beautiful kick-off for Praying for Strangers at Bookman/Bookwoman in Nashville. Now, it seems light years and space miles away. Memphis followed with amazing stories, new friends and dinner with Susan Cushman, writer and keeper of an amazing blog and the her friend Emma, an Episcopal Deacon who began a writing program for troubled girls. Story. It heals us at every age.

Next up – Tupelo, Gumtree Books, and lunch with the infamous Mr. Jack Reed. I wish he stop reading so many books and run for President :) . Emily Gatlin took great care of me and shared the Praying for Strangers story with store visitors – pulling her beautiful mother-in-law along for lunch.

Eagle Eye Books in Atlanta tried to talk me in by cell phone and then I looked up to see my name on the marquee in front of the door – old movie theatre style. I had to snap a picture for Mother. One of the few I’ve actually taken on the road. Was able to visit with owner Doug Robinson and bookseller extreme, Charles on literature, music, the art of twitter. AND such lovely people visiting that night even under the threat of storm and high waters!

Savannah was just as charming as everyone hears or knows it is. The kind of place where visitors are smitten as they wander the streets, hear cathedral bells ringing, tugboats calling, wisteria blooming – and whisper I MUST move here! Everyone. Then they go home again at least to plan their next vacation. I’m putting it as a must stop when the Adorables have their Zaza and Baboo adventure.
E. Schaver bookstore charmed me as much as the city, as much as that late night dinner at Olympia’s Greek Restaurant staring at the riverfront, as much as the beautiful sight of old lovers walking and holding hands. I tucked Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand into my bag for a dinner companion but read only a little as a Trumpet played a medley of everything from Jesus Christ Superstar to the Sesame Street Theme Song. (It became a bit of a game to name that tune in five seconds or less.)

On to Greenville and to an amazing luncheon hosted by Fiction Addiction books. I’ve become huge fans of my table mates – Carolyn and Saidee. Now I know that Carolyn is 86 years old but didn’t catch Saidee’s age. They’ve been the best of friends for many years every since their children were married and they became ‘family’. And I cannot BELIEVE I didn’t pull out my phone and have my picture taken with these witty, world travelers. They blessed me just coming and going and I will be their fans for life! Thank you readers for the beautiful turn out, the great food and conversation. The city of Greenville has it’s own amazing charm to offer.

I am Charleston bound and will do my writerly best to whip out that phone and take more photos of beautiful booksellers and readers. I’m in awe of road warriors Shellie Rushing Tomlinson and Susan Gregg Gilmore that seemed to do it all on the road with grace, humor and speed!

Please check out the latest good news and words on Praying for Strangers: An Adventure of the Human Spirit. Have been holding radio interviews from the road with incredible shows both Indie’s and NPR show affiliates. Great questions and comments everywhere. Love that one interviewer traveled with Praying for Strangers though Spain and although she couldn’t speak the language began to view those around her in a completely new light.

The Nervous Breakdown honored us with a great interview. Murderatti did likewise. Guideposts is featuring a video interview on their site now and an interview and excerpt soon to come in the magazine. A Book of the Week feature with Examiner was picked up in syndication by NPR.

The good word is traveling quickly. The journey continues.

Thank you for being a part of it all.

The Gift of Peace

Published on December 23, 2010 in Uncategorized. 1 Comment

When I was five years old my house burned down on Christmas Day. To the ground. Somehow this fact surfaced in a conversations with author Darnell Arnoult (Sufficient Grace) and she said, “Have you written about that River? You should write about that.” I said, “Nope. Never have. Isn’t that strange? I guess I should write about that sometime. “ So when my alarm went off to remind me that it was my day to post over on the southern authors collective, A Good Blog Is Hard to Find, of course the first thing I thought of was – oh great, it’s Christmas week. I will write something sweet. Then the next thing I thought of was the fact that my house burned down on Christmas Day and in any writer’s handbook that is considered great fodder for material. A blessing I assure you that at five years old I did not ask for. I have a friend who years ago declared her life was just ‘white bread’ so she had nothing to write about. I guess some folks do get all the good stuff. House fires, prison, or double trouble of any kind. BUT – it doesn’t take these kind of tragic moments to find something to write about. It doesn’t take losing your house, your dog, or your wife (in no particular order) to be inspired to write a great story. Stories abide in the soul. They ask, urge, cry out to be written. Particularly, the ones that house eternal truths. The important thing I believe is that we listen carefully, closely to the story that is calling our name.

We lost no family, friends, or animals on that tragic day. Only things. But still – I remember this . . .

Spending the night in an old, hotel by the bay. There wasn’t anything known as cable then and the reception to the television was poor to middling. Mostly poor. My mother sat whispering with my Grandmother who had come out of the woods to spend the night with us. Their voices droned at a steady hum, them going over and over the details of the day. The horrible phone call that shared the news and them trying to understand what had caused the fire. One theory was that the Christmas tree lights left on had eventually sparked the curtains, which had spread to the solid pine paneling, which had taken care of business in a hurry. I had been the one to plug the lights in before we ventured off to my Grandmother’s in the country. I remember thinking they would leave an impression on the neighborhood. It wasn’t the one I had envisioned. Eventually, I fell asleep but it was with a silent and heavy heart. One that plead guilty to the crime of our erased history and unknown future.

The following morning a gift was delivered to me by one of my mother’s best friends. It was an exact replica of a special present, a beautiful little stuffed donkey I had opened the previous morning that had been lost in the fire. I clutched it to my face and breathed in pure comfort. Somehow, against all possibility and in sprite of my guilt something had been resurrected from the ashes. In that moment there was a hope that life although forever altered, would continue. And that in that grace I would be forgiven.

To this day the presence of donkey gives me an unexpected joy. I love to hear the one that lives down the hill when he calls out in the twilight hours. I’m drawn to books on donkeys, pictures of donkeys, and once considered being a rescue home for wild, Jerusalem donkeys.

It’s still a simple wonder that something so simple, so small, and so humble could grant us an eternal Peace. But then, the best stories always do.

Wishing you a blessed and Holy Christmas.

River Jordan

(A version of this blog update first appeared over at A Good Blog Is Hard to Find)

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