Unexpected tears tried to dampen the
excitement of my first book signing. As I prepared to leave, thoughts of
Mother, Dad, and Alan filled my mind. They all enjoyed my writings and would often
ask how I did it. Each one encouraged me
to continue.
For years, I wrote magazine articles
about travel or children and often composed devotionals. My dream was to one
day compile several of my devotionals into a book.
My focus changed when multiple
illnesses and deaths hit my family. Grief replaced other topics as writing
helped me cope with the seemingly endless trials. Over time with some healing
and much encouragement, I felt the time had come to assemble some of my grief
devotionals into a book.
The book I envisioned had a happier
theme, but God guided me to publish one to comfort and encourage others who
grieved. He led me to share my experiences of grief and glory to give them hope
too.
Mixed feelings bombarded me as I
drove to the bookstore. Excitement at sharing my book. Fear that I would spend
three hours alone at a table of books. I prayed that I would be able to touch
someone who needed comfort.
When I walked into the store with a
bag of books, the manager greeted me and directed me to a table covered in a
white plastic cloth. The table, near the front of the store and cash register,
was like an empty stage. I spread out my books to make the area more inviting.
A pen and Sharpie waited beside a pile of my author business cards. I was ready. Then he said, “There usually
aren’t many books sold at book signings.” Perhaps he didn’t want to get my
hopes up, but the statement didn’t exactly cheer an already nervous, new
author.
“You already had someone call to see
if you were here,” he said. That statement was more uplifting.
Four friends I volunteer with at the
library told me they would come. A friend from Bible study and her husband
planned to attend too so I knew I would have a few visitors.
Before the official time, an older
couple entered the store and strode up to me. Were they just passing by or stopping? They looked familiar. But at
first, I wasn’t sure. As soon as they began talking, I remembered they had been
on my Journeys of Paul trip after Alan died. They received my online writings
and wanted to buy the book. Their surprise visit and kind words relieved much
of my anxiety. While they were still in the store, a friend from church
appeared to buy a book and check on her Bible.
With wonderful smiles, my library
friends entered the glass doors. As I signed their books, they motivated me and
erased the remaining nervousness. They offered to bring me lunch, but after
eating second helpings at the church volunteer breakfast before the signing, I
wasn’t really hungry. I also didn’t think it would be appropriate to munch
while greeting customers. One friend bought me a bottle of cold water. Even if
no one else showed up, I felt happy with the supportive friends who had already
come.
However, laughter, hugs, and
reminiscing filled the front of the store for the remaining three hours. I
constantly replenished my supply of books. Each time someone entered the door,
I felt surprise and joy from their love and care for me. Some I had known for a
year or two. Others had been with me in all kinds of trials over twenty-five
years.
Church friends met school friends.
Fellow pilgrims from our trips to Israel reunited. Mission friends reconnected.
Two pastor friends who officiated at Alan’s memorial service and his daughter,
Stephanie’s service a couple of years before that, spent time talking. Both
traveled with Alan on mission trips around the world. They told me stories I
had never heard.
A friend from Griefshare brought her
friend who had recently experienced multiple losses. Special friends from two
Bible studies joined the celebration and even took pictures. My son and
daughter-in-law’s neighbor stopped and offered to promote my book at her job as
a hospital case worker because she needs resources to help people.
A long time friend, who is in the
midst of her own numerous struggles, spent the afternoon with me. Another
friend, who battled cancer but is now cancer free, found a quiet spot and read
most of the book. Her kind words of encouragement helped me see the book did
offer comfort.
Three friends, who Alan and I met on
a mission to Namibia, came with one’s adopted Namibian daughter. She smiled as
we admired her new hair cut and lovely, blue top.
My pastor’s wife, who just returned
from her mother’s memorial service in Sierra Leone, talked about her peace in
the situation. Our prayers had been answered. She prepared food for our wedding
and our small wedding cakes. Her husband performed our wedding and also Alan’s
memorial.
A long time friend, who invited Alan
and me to her home to meet various missionaries, stopped by. She and her sister
have continued to include me at meals and Bible studies.
The presence of numerous friends
overwhelmed me with gratitude. I was prepared for a small turn out but not for
the huge party. Each person brought a touch of healing to a fractured heart
which continues to mend.
What I thought would merely be a
book signing, turned out to be much more. It was a celebration of the lives of
Mother, Dad, and Alan. My book of grief and joy only captured a small part of
God’s glory and provision during my long journey. They would have all been
proud of the book I had written. However, none of us expected my book to be
about their illnesses, deaths, and my grief. God’s nudges and pushes, often
from those around me, led me to accomplish what I didn’t think I could do.
During the party, I missed them terribly but felt their presence within the
love I experienced from my friends. During the celebration at the bookstore, God
continued to ambush me with glory.
As I prepared to leave, the manager
totaled the sales and filled out paperwork. He said, “In twenty-three years of
doing this, I have never had anyone sell this many books. You certainly have a
lot of friends.”
“Yes, I do. I am blessed.”
While writing about the party at the
bookstore, tears clouded my eyes. Grief, that I thought was gone, reappeared
but mixed with joy. The full extent of actually writing the book, sharing my
feelings, and being covered with love swept over me.
In addition to people who came to
the bookstore, many more sent messages by email and on Facebook. They responded
to pictures of the signing. Tears came again and again as I experienced the
love and encouragement of family and friends. They have grieved with me as many
also endured their own trials.
When I hear stories of how my book
has touched others, I know the painful task God planned for me was worth it.
Ambushed by Glory in My Grief
Ambushed by Glory in My Grief
