Cinderella's Influence

Julie Lessman is my guest today and her Cinderella story is one for all of us.

Cinderella's Influence

My journey as an author actually came LONG before my journey with God. It happened the moment I read Gone With the Wind at the age of twelve. The instant that Scarlett seared Rhett with a look on the winding staircase of Twelve Oaks, I was hooked.

Fast forward almost forty years later—I was sitting in a beauty parlor reading a Newsweek magazine cover article about Christian entertainment. It said Christian books, movies and music were on the threshold of exploding. My heart jumped, and something in my spirit said, “It’s time to finish your book.”

Now, I have to be honest with you—up until that moment, I had never seriously considered writing a book. But the pull was so strong I started writing and ended up selling the book to Revell.

Happily ever after, right?

My journey to God? Not so pretty. I was a twenty-three-year-old hardnosed agnostic from a devout but dysfunctional Catholic family of thirteen kids. Suffice it to say I was pretty angry at God.

According to the world’s standards, I had everything going for me—a hunky boyfriend with a Corvette and a boat, a great job, my own apartment, and acing an advanced writing course at Washington University.

But I wasn’t happy. I felt like Peggy Lee singing, “Is that all there is?” One day at work, this annoying gal approached me. She had a lesser job than me, was divorced with a kid, and had no boyfriend in sight. I hated her because she came in humming every day, happy as a lark while I was utterly miserable.

When she and I were alone, I looked up from my typewriter and said, “Just what in the heck (except my language was a bit stronger back then) makes you so happy all the time?” She said, “I’ve been praying you would ask.” Oh, no, a Jesus freak, I thought to myself. At first.

I found myself going to lunch with her, badgering her with questions and accusations. I don’t remember now if it was a week or a month, but either way, I met Jesus Christ through the remarkable patience of a God-sent angel by the name of Joy—pretty appropriate name, eh?

Since then, my life has been a journey of “joy,” because EVERYTHING with God at the center is joy!

He is the one who takes us on this amazing journey, which is really just a U-turn to lead us back to Him
in a deeper,
more passionate way than ever before.

Through God’s grace, I’ve encountered so many “significant” things during my publication journey: the “good” things I did to get published, all the “bad” things I did, and all the “really ugly” things to avoid.

For me, in my life and my writing, God’s close and intimate presence is as natural as breathing. I think of Michael W. Smith's song, Breathe –“This is the air I breathe, Your holy presence living in me.”

Jesus Christ transformed me, a hard, cynical agnostic into a person of joy and hope and love. This is a story I never tire of telling, and hope to do so in all the books I am privileged to write. You might say the book series, The Daughters of Boston and Winds of Change are my love letters to a God. He whose love took me from the dark into His glorious light.

I hope and pray they bring Him—the One Who is the true passion in my life—the glory He so richly deserves.

Julie Lessman

“Passion with a Purpose"

Daughters of Boston Series

A Passion Most Pure--ACFW Debut Book of the Year, Holt Medallion Merit

A Passion Redeemed--Inspirational Reader’s Choice Finalist

A Passion Denied--Borders Best: Your Favorite Fiction

Winds of Change Series

A Hope Undaunted--Booklist's Top 10 Inspirational Fiction 2010

Family Fiction magazine 2011 and 2012 Readers Choice Awards

#1 Romance Author of the Year, #1 Historical Fiction Author of the Year,

#3 Series of the Year, #3 Author of the Year, # 4 Novel of the Year

www.julielessman.com & http://seekerville.blogspot.com/

Thank you Julie for joining us this weekend!

This post has been brought to you by the one-word: TruePassion

Suzanne Woods Fisher - Overcoming the Fear of Failure

We've all had something fail. Maybe a school assignment, baking a cake, changing a car tire. Well that was my shortlist confession. There really is a mile long list that you don't want to hear. Talk about a quick drive to the blues. Even one negative comment in a barrel full of praises can take us down. Sigh. Why oh why do we remember the one negative one and forget the positives. You are not alone. We all do this. But there is a way of escape. Today, Suzanne Woods Fisher is going to share her story. The Fear of Failure “For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you. Do not fear; I will help you” (Isaiah 41:13, niv). Years ago, before I received my first book contract, an editor returned a manuscript to me with the comment that the writing wasn’t up to her publishing house’s “caliber.” Ouch! That was a tough remark to swal...

A Memory Device For You

Photo Courtesy Recently I added a memory game to my week's activities. It all started when I listened to one of those fabulous sermons in church and actually took notes. Later in the week, I recalled liking the sermon and searched for the notes, but lamented when I couldn't find the piece of paper. I quizzed myself: What was the general topic? I racked my brain…good grief this was Thursday and a thousand other things had happened when I asked the question. After a cup of tea, visualizing where I sat in the sanctuary, and using every other means possible to remember the general topic I finally answered the question. The process to recall the rest of the good things said was an epic fail. Although I have since started using a notebook I have created a memory game. On Monday, at any point during the day, I try to say the following without the use of my notes: General topic of the sermon Main book of the Bible used Application p...

Laughter and Singing at the Homeless Shelter

It was a night to remember. A night to tell friends about. So I am... Fifty men, women, and teens rode in busses on icy expressways into the inner city. They poured out of the bus at a homeless shelter unsure where to go, what to do, or what to say. One led the pack through the main doors, pass security checkpoints, and on through winding hallways to a large room. At night, this room is filled, wall to wall, with cots, blankets, and at this time of year, cold homeless men, women, and children. On this evening before the night, hundreds of chairs formed straight rows and faced a platform. The fifty set up sound and instrument equipment. Singers cozied in the limited platform space. Instrumentalists tuned their instruments. A few residents poked their heads in the door. Intrigued, they came in and watched the first measures of several songs start, stop, start again. Microphone levels adjusted. The singers laughed. Chattered. The group stepped off to the side and...

The Storyteller | Mary Vee

Search This Blog