KEEP PRESSING !

Friends, I’ve been struggling with a lack of focus. Am I alone in this journey?

2023 is a mere three months old and already my thoughts seem scattered. This is unlike me. I must focus! My daughter’s wedding is in May, and two other significant projects are nearing completion. One of these projects is “The Apothecary.” Many of you know that Poppa and I purchased my grandmother’s farm a few years back. On that property there are several ramshackle out buildings as well as a 10 by 60 mobile home which served as the inspiration for my novel, Outbound Train. To say the home was in a state of disrepair is an understatement.

I had a two year “plan” which included using the mobile home as a classroom for medicinal herb classes. This project, through no fault of my own, has dragged into a three-year journey of hope and prayers that I might see it happen. Along the way there have been many obstacles. One day I’ll have time to share, but today I need to give myself a pep talk.

I can see the finish line of this project. I only need to complete the trim work. Slather on another layer of paint and purchase the furnishings. But I also have an agent looking at my manuscript and a new book in the works.

Why then am I distracted?

Friends, I don’t know for certain. I only know that if I am going to see these dreams come to pass I must press harder than before.

But when I press, so does a new distraction that has taken root. There is a tug at my heart, a strong force interfering with my longing to complete what I know God has given me as a gift. I will preserve my grandmother’s farm, at all cost. And the evil one is using every trick in his playbook to keep me from being successful.

The distraction he has planned for me is beautiful, it is sensual, full of love and promise. The image of what could be does not leave my mind from the moment I wake until I lie down at night. In all my years on this earth, I have never wanted something as much as I want this one thing.

My friends, the evil one is a master manipulator. Like a horse following a carrot, I have allowed my mind to take me far away from the path God set out before me. I felt myself pulling my hand out of His.

I was about to close the door I had prayed for God to open, for reasons I couldn’t explain.

Has anyone else struggled with a distraction this strong, a force you just can’t shake; something wedged in tight between you and the life you were meant to have?

Maybe fear, or discouragement, doubt and financial uncertainty keeps you from pursuing your dreams. Maybe you suffer from comparison-syndrome. We see social media posts of people with new jobs, new homes, new businesses and -let’s be honest- we self-reflect. Why can’t I have that? Why can’t my children be like that, my house? Why is my life so stinking hard?

What we never see are the struggles behind the glossy photos. This post is a raw journal entry to the struggle behind my dream. Over the past three years, I have felt all of those emotions, especially a deep concern about the financial investment I am making.

I pursue this dream after I leave my paying job. I’ve been injured, sunburned and exhausted on both an emotional and physical level. I have wanted to give up more times than I can count. I have hated this dream and asked that it be taken away from me (I was dehydrated at the time and later apologized. . . I didn’t mean it, I was just overextended). In short, I have poured every ounce of myself into these projects and the only way I persist is through constant praise, prayer and pressing !!

Why then, am I literally weeks away from being finished only to face a stronghold that has taken over my thoughts?

Last night I had a breakthrough. I “took myself to the woodshed,” so to speak. I got alone with myself and my creator. I gave myself a good talking to; and the conversation wasn’t pretty. I asked myself some tough questions.

“Renea, are you strong, or are you weak? Did you come this far only to be distracted? Were you lying when you asked God for help? Do you mean what you say, or are you just talking to hear yourself talk? Renea, why can’t you see what’s going on in your life right now. You KNOW where this distraction is coming from, or more important who has sent this distraction. Again Renea, I need you to answer the question, are you strong?”

Yes, I said all of this out loud, because sometimes I need to hear the problem, I need the sound of my voice to drive out the other distractions burrowing into my gray matter.

Then I waited for the answer, and kept repeating, “Are you weak, or strong? There are only two paths. One leads to the finish line, the other is a long and winding road that will waste the precious time you have remaining on this earth.”

Then I came to the Throne of Grace.

Friends, it’s been a long time since I have laid my life out before my Creator. I sense there has been some toe-tapping, while God watched me struggle. But I also sensed there was a self-confident knowing I would recognize this distraction for what it is, a plan designed by the evil one to hurl me off course and toward the wrong path that will postpone everything, everything, I have worked years to achieve.

God was proud of me. He gave me a nod. Go on now, daughter. You’ve got this.

Friends, if you are struggling, you have the same two choices: press toward the finish line, or not. Set your mind to make good choices.

I grabbed a notepad and quickly penned this reminder, Renea, stay strong !

God gave me strength.

“Lord, let me keep my hand in yours as together we finish this project. You have been with me all along. I want to walk the path YOU have laid out before me, not the trap set by the evil one. My strength comes from you. Not me. And if my hand slips from yours, let me cling to the hem of your garment, for if I can only touch it, everything will be perfect.”

Renea Winchester is an internationally-published author who lives in the mountains of Western North Carolina. She is the owner of Butterfly Cove Botanicals.

2020, in perspective

When 2020 began, I knew it would be a hard year. In order for my debut novel, Outbound Train, to be successful, I had to remain eyes-forward, focused intently on doing everything within my power to promote my book. I lined up speaking engagements, booked events at Indie bookstores, and penciled in dates with my beloved book clubs. As April approached I was ready, every list complete, every box checked.

Then the corona virus struck and like many authors, I watched every single event canceled. I also watched a change in what we call “normal.” Outbound Train debuted at # 22 in Southern Fiction, an honor I owe to reader support. But, I also watched being “southern” become a bad thing, a terrible stereotype of racism and hate. This hurts not only me as a southern-born-woman, it hurts the career of every southern author. Yet, as I type this, folk are selling their homes as quickly as possible fleeing their city-life, hoping that living in the rural south will help them escape Covid-19.

Perhaps that is why the Western North Carolina Mountain towns are hotspots with cases five times that of the State Capital, but I digress.

I’ve watched 2020 become the year of complaining. We have become like the Israelites who complained about a 7-year journey. They didn’t like the food, didn’t like the journey, didn’t like their leader. They complained SO MUCH they became STUCK in the pit of complaining and it took the group 40 years to reach their destination. And yet here we are in 2020, on a journey where it seems no one has a kind word. Isn’t there anything good to talk about? Of course. We must purpose to speak life instead of negativity.

We ripped each other to shreds over politics and walked away from relationships because someone didn’t agree with us. Author Lisa Wingate said it best. My grandmother reminded me that she has never received a visit to her home from a single politician she’s ever voted for; which is why relationships with her friends and family matter more than WHO they vote for.

I get it, we’re tired, we are grieving, we are scared. Like many, I lost someone I love to this terrible virus, but it seems we have become so negative we hate every thing and every one around us! Friends, amidst the pain and the loss, in the longing to be together we have the BEST-ever opportunity to grow and change the life of another.

We’ve heard the phrase, “new normal” and we hate it. We want 2020 to be over and for life to return as it once was. In doing so we are wishing our lives away, we aren’t finding the good, and we aren’t being the good people need. Those living on the edge of despair need us. In this area 900 a month is the average rent for a run-down place. Fast food workers need us to slide a twenty across the counter. I see students every day whose lives who can’t make it to school, or work. Their lives would be changed with a gas card. The twenty dollars we waste on Bath & Body Candles (ok, I am preaching to myself here), is literally the difference between sleeping in a cold house and eating a nutritious meal for many people. Last week in the grocery store, I wanted to grab the microphone and give a shout out to every single worker in the store. They deserve a MEDAL for showing up to work every day as do bone-weary healthcare workers and law enforcement.

2020 wasn’t all bad. It simply wasn’t.

Elderberry-Tonic ready for you.

We became certified seed growers, growing heritage seeds so future generations can continue to grow their own food. We could have sold the land piecemeal like everyone else is, commanding an exorbitant price from someone from New Jersey or Atlanta, but we didn’t. Simply put, that dishonors our people and the land. Instead, we will work this land, using what she offers to heal ourselves and others. We have a long-term goal of teaching others about the way of the land with a plan to open an outdoor classroom in 2021. We believe the land isn’t best used as a lush green lawn, but as a teacher to those who are willing to listen. We will offer our little strip of country to limited number of herbalists who need a place to hold classes. The land has so much to teach us about ourselves and each other, but Mother Nature whispers only to those who listen.

And so as December arrives, we take each day as it comes, thankful for it, for each other, and for you. Find a blessing, and try to be a blessing, every single day.

With Poppa on the Farm