“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to weep, and a time to laugh;a time to mourn, and a time to dance:” Ecclesiastes 3:1,4

My husband used to be a roller coaster enthusiast. He loved the thrills, stomach-lurching drops, and the speed of racing down the track. He beamed when he reminisced about trips to Six Flags Great America, a Chicago area amusement park. We even chose to spend one day there during our honeymoon. When our children finally reached the necessary height to ride the coasters, he gleefully explained the various rides they would encounter at the park. He may have even drawn a diagram for my son who loved the details.

We arrived early at the park on a bright, sunny summer day. The children skipped along with their father, excited to experience the thrills. We decided to start with a small coaster, to break them in gently. This one had no loops, just a few drops, and lots of twisty curves. While we waited in line, both our kids were chatty, excited to share their dad’s enthusiasm.

However, as we entered the cars, I saw a flash of uneasiness on my cautious son’s face. I tried to encourage him, and as we sat next to each other on the ride, I could see that he was not enjoying the twists or speed. When we got off, Terry’s animated face asked both children what they thought, expecting hurrahs and shouts of “Let’s keep going!” Ethan reluctantly shared his true feelings, desperately not wanting to disappoint his father. Terry understood Ethan’s trepidation and affirmed his concerns. So, he grabbed the hand of Maggie, our constant thrill seeker since toddlerhood, and went on to another coaster. But much to his dismay, he realized halfway through the ride, Maggie’s screams were not joyful, instead full of fear. The rest of day was spent watching shows and eating amusement park food.

It has been a while since I have come to the keyboard to write. The past month and half, my book launches consumed my energy and time. I experienced a roller coaster of emotions, some completely unrelated to the release of the book. It felt like my own twisted version of reality TV was flashing before my eyes.

About a month and half before the book launched, I found a lump in my breast. The first available appointment was the morning of my book release. I tried to ignore the lump, truly believing it was nothing significant. But every evening, I verified that it was still there, and wondered: Was this the beginning of my ending? Instead of having a cup of coffee lazily starting my day as I confirmed on social media that people were buying my book, I was squeezed and flattened to take the necessary images. Fortunately, after the examination, the radiologist informed me that nothing was wrong.

Two weeks prior to that, I found out that one of my sisters from my biological father had died unexpectedly. In Reclaimed & Restored, I share how I discovered in the last few years that I have more siblings. My only contact with her had been a few Facebook messages in the last year with the hope of meeting someday. I had a hard time processing her death: how do you mourn what should have been? The only bright side is that a few friends of hers reached out to me and shared that she was joyful and full of hospitality. I also connected with a cousin who shared the only pictures of my grandmother, Jessica Whitefeather, I have ever seen. I inherited her high cheekbones and her love for gingham.

I love my non-profit job, and I have been overwhelmed with the generosity of individuals, businesses, and churches during this holiday season. I regularly get new information from others on how they want to give, organize drives, and feed our clients. The time spent following up on these opportunities is all-consuming. Thus, Microsoft Excel has moved into the “friend zone” because it helps me keep track of all the generosity.

Additionally, we ordered author copies of my book for the book launch. Three days before the actual launch, Amazon had not updated my shipping information. Borderline late for a meeting, I sat in my car trying to figure out with a customer service representative where my books were. They hesitantly guaranteed that the books would arrive on time. I chose not to put my faith in them, but in God, trusting that these books would arrive. And they did, one day after my phone call. I opened the box and tears flowed with gratitude and awe! I was an author; Amazon verified it.

This roller coaster of activity and emotion caught up with my body a few days before the launch. Having RA, I started what is referred to as a flare. All my joints were swollen and painful. I experienced stiffness after sitting, and pain when I moved. RA fatigue kicked in, making me exceptionally tired. And on top of that, because of my compromised immune system, I couldn’t shake the cold I had. I am looking forward to following up with the rheumatologist in December, when I will be back on the much-needed medicine. But until then, I will continue to struggle.

Finally, the book launch weekends came with a roller coaster of emotions: delight, joy, and some anxiety. I was glad that both my children and their families were able to attend the book launch in Chambersburg. My sister, Cheryl, sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and I celebrated by doing shots of espresso with some of my closest friends, signing books, and reading two excerpts. I left the first book launch in awe of the generosity of an anonymous benefactor who paid my event space rental fee!

No words can adequately express my feelings about the book launch in Wisconsin. I was surrounded by friends and family from all different points in my life who came to celebrate with me. People traveled for hours to attend the launch. Most importantly, some of my heroes were there: my Aunt Debbie, Bob and Roxanne St. Pierre, Tina and Claudette Weiterman, and Michele Cassaday. These people played pivotal roles in my life, and you read about them in my book. There were a lot of big feelings that day, but mostly I sat in awe of what God has done and continues to do in my life.

The thrill or fear of a roller coaster only lasts a few minutes. After the ride, you unbuckle the harness, put your feet firmly back on the ground, and continue to live. I feel like the last few months have been a continuous roller coaster. Now, I am off the ride with my feet back on the ground. And I need to continue to live my ordinary but extraordinary life. I do this best when I process my experiences through writing my blog and my next book. There are a lot of things I plan to write about, including my feelings about the election and a big move we are making.

I will continue unashamedly encouraging readers to buy Reclaimed & Restored from Amazon. I believe that this little book can impact others. If you have already bought it, when you finish, please review it on Goodreads and Amazon. Thanks!

“Your faithfulness endures to all generations; you have established the earth, and it stands fast.” Psalm 119:90

Today is the day! After a lifetime of experiences and almost 5 years of writing, Reclaimed & Restored is officially published. I am going to celebrate with family and friends for the next week at my two book launches. If you can’t make it, be sure to order a copy for yourself and a friend. God is so faithful, and I can’t wait to see how He uses this little book to help others.

“In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” Matthew 5:16 ESV

I don’t remember the exact details or even the words she said to me, but an older classmate in my small high school bullied me. She may have commented on my weight or called me a geek; I just knew she didn’t like me. I can still picture her feathered 80s hair, frosted jeans, and the denim jacket she wore. She often would sneer at me from across the hall, and this look warned me to avoid being in her space. When she gathered with her friends to smoke outside of the school, I walked around the building to another entrance. After she graduated, I forgot about her. But all that irrational fear came back when I saw her fourteen years later when I was at the beach with my family. I saw her across the crowd with that same feathered hair style from high school. Instantly, fear rose up in me, and I felt myself start to panic. I couldn’t believe that years later, I was still having this visceral reaction to a person whose name I couldn’t even recall. But I couldn’t deny it, the reaction was there. Just like in the past, I looked for ways to extradite myself and my family from being in her presence.

In reflecting back on this incident, I highly doubt she would have remembered me. Even if she had, she may not have even known that I was afraid of her. But it is amazing how negative experiences can imprint memories that are not forgotten by us or our nervous systems. On the flipside, I think it is more important to remember and thank those who have fostered positive experiences in our lives. Even more importantly, I think all of us should strive to make a positive impact on those around us.

This summer, within six weeks of each other, two men from the same family passed away.  Michael Wasmundt and Alex Bruce Dicker were brothers-in-law, loved Jesus, and deeply loved the same woman, Judy, who was Michael’s sister and Bruce’s wife. But their commonalities ended there. Michael suffered with some health issues, and because of these challenges, his world centered on the church his father pastored. For many years, he faithfully played worship music in his church, and on the side, played classical pieces of music as well. He told what we today would call “dad jokes,” often eliciting a chuckle or even sometimes a groan. Being more introverted, Michael expressed himself both in music and poetry. He lived a quiet life and died with his sister, Judy by his side.

Bruce, on the other hand, was larger than life. On the extrovert scale, Bruce tipped the scale moving me and other extroverts more to the center. He lived big, being a child evangelist with his wife Judy for many years. He was a natural entertainer, part of the illusionist and magician circles, owning his own business where he performed for corporate parties. His jokes and pranks were legendary. He later worked for the State Department in various countries. He loved to travel and developed friendships across the world. He played music also, once picking up my son’s guitar and playing some riffs from a classic rock song. He was fun to be around, and no one could ever say they had a dull moment with Bruce. He died from a blood clot almost six weeks after his brother-in-law while still working in Europe and waiting to retire at the end of the month.

Both men are featured in my upcoming memoir, Reclaimed & Restored, where I write about how they impacted my life. Michael, in his quiet way, felt led to pray for me every day after I attended his church as a Sunday school student. He kept me on his prayer list, even when I stopped coming to Sunday School. It wasn’t just a simple prayer, but one with intensity, asking God to protect me and help me feel the love of God. Michael had no way of knowing the sexual trauma I was experiencing during the time he prayed. I believe that those consistent and faithful prayers brought me into a relationship with the Lord after I reported the abuse. I am forever grateful to this man and his prayer life.

Bruce also had some spiritual insight into my life as a new Christian. By all accounts, I was doing well, succeeding in college and still living out my faith. But I was a new Christian and although I loved Jesus, I didn’t really know Jesus. If I made time to read my Bible, I read it superficially and didn’t take time to study it. Bruce saw that my foundation was weak and orchestrated a Taco Bell meeting with a friend of his. There, both men talked with me about my beliefs and asked me to support them with the Bible. I was flabbergasted, because I couldn’t give one scripture to support what I believed. I left Taco Bell, feeling unsure of my faith. Bruce left Taco Bell, unsure if he had done the right thing. But he did! I went home that day, and spent some time in prayer, recommitting myself to God and determined to invest more time in building my relationship with God.

Both men, in their own unique ways given their personalities, made a lasting impact on my life. One’s prayers led me to faith; the other’s thoughtful intervention helped me become rooted in my faith. They did it because they saw a need and acted upon what they saw. They purposed to make an impact on a young girl’s life that changed her story. Since moving to Pennsylvania, I have seen both intermittently. My last phone call with Michael was two years ago, while he was recuperating in a nursing home. I thanked him for his impact on my life. My last visit with Bruce was almost three years ago, when we laughed as usual listening to Bruce’s stories.

Impact, as defined, states that the action of one object comes forcibly into contact with another. The word force here is interesting. Something or someone propels an action to connect one object with another object. We all know how ice can cause a car to slip and forcibly hit another car, causing damage. But can the application of force ever be good, making a positive impact?

Late last winter, Terry and I made Tartine Bakery’s famous morning buns. Chad Robertson and Elizabeth Prueitt developed this laminated dough recipe that is hailed by other bakers and pastry chefs as one of the best in the world. This dough took three days to make, involving multiple steps and techniques. Terry spent a lot of time and used a lot of muscles rolling out chilled dough and a frozen butter block together, folding it into an envelope and re-rolling it. This technique produced the layers of buttery, flakey croissant texture that crackled after the morning buns were done. His exertion with the rolling pin impacted the dough for good. He was only successful by patiently waiting for the dough to be ready and working quickly.  If at any point, he let the dough get to room temperature, the butter would melt into the dough, losing the beautiful layers we were looking for.

My book is full of people who made an impact on my life. These impacts were not casual encounters, but intentional moments where individuals set aside their lives to impact a young person. I look back and think of all the people who stepped into my life at critical moments, and I am forever grateful. They sacrificed, they exerted positive pressure when needed, and they helped shape me into the person I am today. Some were teachers, others were school counselors, and one was a sixteen-year-old girl who brought a teddy bear to me in the hospital. Each of them is a part of my story.

Michael and Bruce will never be able to read what I wrote about them. But I did manage to find time to express my gratitude while they were still alive. Reclaimed & Restored is a memoir of my life recovering from sexual trauma. I hope it inspires other survivors to see a path towards healing and wholeness. This is the big level of impact I hope my book makes. But on a more subtle level, I hope my book inspires all those who are expressing kindness, insight, and prayers towards people who seem to be struggling, to continue their efforts. This impact can make a lasting positive impression on someone’s life.

Finally, if you are someone who prays, keep Judy Dicker in your thoughts and prayers. Losing anyone you love is hard, but losing two of the people you are the closest to in so short a time is unimaginable.