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Bethany Quinn on Shame

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

Another Wednesday and I’m back. It seems the universe has a good sense of irony.

Anyway, Katie’s busy with rewrites and since it was kind of cathartic to have my say last week, and since I’d prefer to get to know the people who will be reading my story, I figured I’d give it another whirl.

Back in the beginning, when Katie was trying to get to know me, she asked me this question.

Are you ashamed of your past?

I just sort of stared at her.

First, because she was really starting to remind me of Dr. Nowels, sans the toupee. And in case you don’t know Dr. Nowels, let me assure you, the comparison is not meant to be flattering.

Second, because I thought the answer was obvious.

My past isn’t exactly something to be proud of.

I grew up in a trailer park with a mother who had to work third shifts at an aluminum plant. We drove a rusted out Pinto with a faulty muffler and I had to wear my brother’s hand-me-downs. I did one stupid thing when I was twelve and had to spend the next year in therapy. The next ten with a stigma that refused to go away.

Is it any wonder I left?

Nobody likes feeling shame. It’s not an endearing emotion.

When I explained all this to Katie, she raised her eyebrows and sucked on the end of her pen. Like whatever I’d said nudged an invisible puzzle piece into place.

I didn’t rise to the bait. I didn’t ask what she was thinking.

Because it doesn’t matter. I’m an architect, a really good architect. With a masters degree from Texas A&M. With a new car and closet full of nice clothes.

I’m well respected. I’m independent. And that stigma I had growing up? Nobody sees it here. I know how to hide it. In fact, I can almost pretend it never existed.

Even though we’re not BFFs or anything, Bailey and I understand each other. Because her past isn’t all roses and sunshine either. She’s well acquainted with shame. In fact, she’s talking about it here. 

Let’s Talk: Do you ever struggle with shame? How do you deal with it?

Interested in reading mystory? You can preorder Wildflowers from Winter on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Christianbook.com

Check out Katie’s Facebook Author Page or Dani Pettrey’s Facebook Author Page for a word of encouragement regarding shame. 

Two people are reviewing Wildflowers from Winter today. One from Heather Sunseri (she asks a powerful question and hosts a giveaway) and another from Casey Herringshaw. 

Dream Big or Stay Grounded

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

In 2009, I went to my very first writing conference. I sat in a banquet hall in Denver, surrounded by hundreds of other writers, listening to Debbie Macomber give the key note speech. She talked about dreaming big.

It was 100% inspiring. 

Now here I am, three years later, on the cusp of my first ever book release. Wildflowers from Winter hits shelves in twenty-one days (insert hyperventilation here). And most of the time, I find myself playing the part of a giant pendulum.

Swinging back and forth.

Picturing a career like Karen Kingsbury one minute. Grounding myself in reality the next. Climbing imaginary ladders that reach into the stars. Then curling up into a ball on the ground, afraid to dream of anything remotely grand.

I won’t lie. 

The balance between dreaming big and staying realistic is not an easy one to maintain. 

On one hand, it’s important to dream big.

Because big dreams inspire us to reach for something higher than ourselves. Big dreams motivate us to work hard. Big dreams fill us with excitement and possibility.

You don’t accomplish big things by dreaming small. 

But on the other hand, big dreams can be dangerous. 

Because those dreams can set us up for disappointment. They can lead to discontentment and disillusionment. They can become idols.  

So what’s a writer to do? 

Rachelle Gardner told me something once that really stuck with me. It was at the 2010 ACFW conference. We were having a little chat and I remember her saying this:

Big dreams are great. It’s when those dreams become expectations that we get ourselves into trouble.

Let’s Talk: How do you maintain this balance? Are you more prone to dreaming big or are you more prone to staying grounded?

Julie Cantrell is interviewing me on her blog today. Stop on over and leave a comment for a chance to win an advanced copy of my book!

Wildflowers from Winter: Hope after Death

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

It is with great pleasure that I introduce you to a dear friend today. Kristin Reickard and I go the same church, and even attend the same small group. She and her husband were instrumental in our decision to adopt.

God has already used their testimony in big ways. I trust He will continue to do so here today.

 

A Family is Made 

We know firsthand the sorrow, the deep pain of mourning. We also know what it is to have God turn our mourning into the oil of gladness, to be given a crown of beauty instead of ashes.

In 2004, our second child Kael Xavier was born. Our little son seemed perfect. Although he was a bit fussy, we were reassured that was normal for babies of C-sections and were allowed to bring him home. At home, though, Kael’s fussiness grew, as did his jaundice.  We decided to take him into the doctor a bit early. 

At worst, we guessed Kael would need to be under bilirubin lights. We never could’ve imagined the words that would come out of the doctor’s mouth… “Your son’s bilirubin levels are incredibly high, which indicates his liver may be failing.” Going forward in shock and utter disbelief, we found ourselves with our 11 day old son in the NICU of a Children’s Hospital.

We had many ups and downs in the hospital, days we weren’t sure he would pull through, surgeries with very high risks. After 51 days on this earth, our brave little Kael could no longer put forth any more fight. My husband and I were privileged to be able to be there for our son’s birth, and also to hold him in his death.

Our grief was fresh, hard, and real. After Kael’s autopsy, we found out the disease that caused his liver to fail was 80% likely to occur in any future biological children. This disease was almost always fatal unless an experimental treatment was used. After a year of deep grieving, we decided to go forward and try to get pregnant again. After only a few weeks of pregnancy, our third child died. 

The pain was beyond words. The grieving took a toll on all of us, and my husband declared we were done having children. It was too hard to open ourselves up to that hurt again. Although we could’ve tried pregnancy again as well as some other options, my heart immediately was drawn to adoption. NO ONE could ever replace Kael or the unborn child we lost, but I didn’t want to lose a future with other children to love on too.

Over time, the desire to adopt grew inside of me. It became so strong that I prayed for God to either change my heart or change my husband’s. And God answered that prayer…  He changed my husband’s heart.

On our journey to beauty, we realized that so many children in the world were dying or growing up without a family, no one to guide them, protect them, or love them. They had ashes too. A fire was ignited in our hearts for the fatherless and we began our journey. We adopted our son Jaevan Jee from South Korea in 2008. And the beauty was palpable, overwhelming, and amazing. Then we adopted our daughter Aria Jiang from China in 2011. And now we are in the process of adopting 2 children from Haiti. 

Each member of our family has a story of ashes, different pieces of pain and suffering because of this broken world. And God took all of our ashes and made something BEAUTIFUL out of them. 

…to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.  Isaiah 61:2b-3a

Let’s Talk: Have any questions about adoption? Kristin is the gal to ask! Say hi. Introduce yourself. And if you get a chance, hop on over to Kristin’s blog to read about their journey. 

If you’d like to read a story about God’s ability to redeem those barren, broken seasons in our lives, or if you’re struggling to hold onto hope in the midst of heartache, check out the first three chapters of Wildflowers from Winter for free, or visit my Wildflowers from Winter page to order a copy of your own!