Rain Dance, Joy DeKok – Author Guest Post

Jonica is infertile. Stacie chooses an abortion. One is prolife the other prochoice. Both are suddenly alone in misunderstanding, facing hypocrisies in their belief systems, and grieving – one the death of a dream and the other the death of her child. As their hearts break where in the world will they find healing and grace?  Can shattered dreams be part of the plan?

AUTHOR GUEST POST…Viral

There’s some bad junk out there this year – contagious stuff and I don’t mean the flu. In spite of the economic crisis, people are still shopping for gifts, bargains, decorations, and their favorite foods.

And, they are cranky.

I realize as they hand their credit cards to the cashier visions of payments are dancing through their heads and they’re wishing a jolly man in a sleigh with eight tiny reindeer was in charge of their lists.

Then, there are the parking lots – look out for runaway carts shoved your way by frazzled shoppers. Be aware there are the drivers who want your spot long before you’ve backed out of it. They are willing to rev their engines to let you know they’re waiting and a few are bold enough to toot their horns just in case you didn’t see the grill of their SUV rolling closer and closer.

Since I do most of my shopping online and am profusely thankful for my UPS and Fed Ex guys, I have the privilege of sitting on the shopping sidelines and letting my senses take in the chaos that seems to be Christmas these days.

I’ve seen more angry mothers, crying children, and arguing couples than other years. Clerks are weary from the burdens of complaints – really people – they didn’t manufacture the product, order it, price it, or decide you should buy it.

I entered the local mall the other day and within minutes I felt the symptoms nagging me. The coffee I just had to have tasted a little on the strong side. The hardcover book I’d wanted so much sure didn’t have very many pictures in it for what I’d paid. (Seconds before I was totally immersed in the writing and couldn’t have cared less about the photos!) The symphony of languages and voices I usually find fascinating grated on my nerves. My head started to ache and I was warm enough I wondered if I had a fever.

As I stuffed my book into my bag, I decided I wasn’t up to facing the parking lot just then so I sat back down to finish my actually quite good cup of coffee. Instead of reading I decided to observe my surroundings. Someone at the popcorn shop had burned a batch. Tired children whined and cross mothers scolded in various languages. Teens in Goth apparel walked silently by as if the noise jarred them as well. Holiday music played in the background, but was drowned out by the constant buzz of discontent.

I felt the negativity rise to nearly suffocating levels. An irate customer returned a more than half-eaten sandwich that was too cold to eat. A little boy threw himself on the floor in a fit of something and I was tempted to join him.

At one table a heated discussion about Sarah Palin rose above the din and at another someone critiqued President Obama and George Bush. A different group discussed the idiots who watch FOX News (I’m a FOX watcher, but declined to engage the already enraged speaker!).

Just when I thought I might be plowed completely under by the anger and negativity, something happened. A little boy raced by his dad in hot pursuit and both of them were laughing. Out loud. I felt a grin pull across my face at their play and watched amazed as their little tiny bit of joy caught the attention of this little corner of the food court. Arguments paused and stressed faces eased into smiles.

I prayed the father son team would pass by again. Instead an older couple did. Holding hands and smiling at each other like no one else existed. They talked loudly so their hearing aids could pick up each other’s voices. They could hardly wait to get home and get the presents for the great-grandkids wrapped. A young woman on a cell phone announced to whoever was on the other end, “He’ll be home from Iraq in a few days!” I was so happy for her I nearly gave her a standing ovation. A young couple with purple hair and pierced faces walked by totally immersed in each other and although I smiled at the intensity of their young love I confess I did wonder if they ever hurt each other kissing – there was enough to metal on their lips a permanent lip lock was a real possibility. Even that thought wasn’t negative – only curious. Then, a young mother gathered her little ones around a table, cut up their sandwiches and divided out French fries. She sipped on some water and gazed lovingly on her brood. I wondered if she was dieting (she didn’t need to) or if she didn’t have enough to buy food for herself. It didn’t matter to her – she was where she wanted to be. The crème de la crème was a kid with catsup all over his face grinning and saying “hi” to everyone. He was eager to give away the priceless gift of his tomato-y smile.

These positive moments filled me with courage – maybe I could brave the parking lot now. As I left the building a teenager held the door for me and a driver waited for me to pass in front of them in the crosswalk. In a very few seconds I’d been able to thank two people for their kindness.

Yes there are a lot of things going around these days. I caught some of the good stuff the other day and am determined to go viral with it!  Imagine an epidemic of genuine Christmas joy spreading peace and goodwill to all. A little Tiny Tim-ish I know – but why not? It worked on that Scrooge – it might rescue a few of us so easily dragged into the abyss of discontent. I can hardly wait to sneeze some kindness on somebody. Guess I’ll have to tackle the mall again.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR…Joy DeKok and her husband, Jon, live in Minnesota on thirty-five acres of woods and fields. Joy has been writing most of her life and as a popular speaker shares her heart and passion for God with women. In addition to writing novels, she has also published a devotional and several children’s books.

Visit Joy online at: www.joydekok.comwww.raindancebook.com,www.believe4kids.com and www.gettingitwrite.net.