He's Still Workin' on Me!

We heard a sermon to graduates yesterday, but really, it applied to everyone. The minister, in encouraging young people in confidence and self-esteem, assured them that God thinks about them and knew them before they were even born. He referenced Psalms 139:16, which says, “Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them.”

It is a comfort to know that God wants the best for us, as it says in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” In light of all this, I know it is futile to worry and fret about things, but I did put myself under a lot of stress this weekend, especially for Saturday, the day of the book festival here.

It did turn out to be a rewarding event, despite all my concerns. If only I would not anticipate the negative, and try to presuppose what might happen. I must confess, it felt a little intimidating to be in the company of so many authors, all displaying their best works, but they were just people, after all. And quite an interesting group, at that. The author whose table was next to mine was a native American, dressed in a fringed, buckskin outfit with books on Indian folklore that she had written and illustrated. They were quite popular, especially with kids, although adults liked them, too.

An author who was a native of England, now living in Missouri, was there, and had written many novels, poems and other works. We had a chance to read from our books or speak about them at a podium set up in the library of the mansion where the festival was held. “Are you going to speak?” I asked him as he stopped to chat at my table, to which he answered, “No! Those are all authors in there!” I knew the feeling. When I finally got up my nerve to read, there wasn’t time (the organizer said they were all taking too long), so I was just as glad.

One of the participants was a pastor’s wife who wrote devotionals and a study on Ecclesiastes. We enjoyed talking together, and I met the author of a book I was given for my birthday about the E.W. Marland family, the one who built the house in which we were standing that very day. He had lived in this home with his first wife before he built the imposing Marland Mansion that has become a landmark for our city.

It was with a sigh of satisfaction that I finished the long day and gathered my things to go home. The surroundings had been beautiful, the mood festive, I had sold some books, we had eaten barbeque, and my husband had wandered around meeting people, listening to guitar music and filling me in on what was happening in the other parts of the mansion where other booksellers were set up.

The pastor finished his message with a verse from Ephesians 2:10 where it says we are His workmanship. He said this meant a work of art, a work in progress. That means there is still room for improvement! Maybe I won’t worry so much next time!