Pirated

Perhaps I should feel complimented ... but I don't. At least two of my books that I know of have been pirated to be used in AI training.

Apparently "AI companies need books for their quality writing, style, expression, long-form narration and content". (See here for full story and more information.) 

At any other time, I'd feel gratified to be included amongst those whose work is considered to be in the category of "quality writing, style, [and] expression". But not today.

With another book due to be published any time now, it feels like a slap in the face when the time and effort and sweat and tears that I - and countless others like me - put into writing can be so easily stolen and then used to produce AI generated works.

I don't write to get rich. I write because I feel called to write. In fact, there's a reason I still have a day job. But if and when my work is given away for free, it's because I choose to do so. Using someone else's intellectual property without their permission and/or reimbursement is theft.

For any New Zealand writers, follow the link above to determine if your work has been stolen, and, if so, the steps to lodge formal complaints. 

(Note: Intellectual Property Theft is not limited to New Zealand writers. However, I am unfamiliar with the laws of other countries. Author societies would be a good place to begin if you're concerned.)

A Teaser

Life has been busy over recent months with a flying visit to Australia for my mother's eightieth birthday (which was a small affair out of consideration for my mother's health) ...

While there, we managed to do a small amount of sightseeing ... 

and despite there being little time for research or writing (which was not the purpose of the trip this time anyway), I was able to briefly revisit some of the places that feature in my books. I also had the privilege of talking to a senior assembly at a Christian school about my writing and books. I have a feeling that I inspired at least one student to trust the Lord with their dreams.

Since returning home, I've been busy with the proofs of my latest book, which I'm happy to report are now done. I'm hoping my next post I'll be able to share the news that this latest book in A Day For You series has gone to the printers.

Who Are You This Christmas?

 

I've recently taken a break from my usual read-through-the-Bible programme to read through the Scriptures in both the Old and New Testaments that talk about Jesus' birth. In the busyness of this time of year it's lovely to be able to take some time to read over and reflect on the well-known passages once again. However, this time around, one of the things that has really struck me has been the response of each of the human characters scattered throughout the story. 

Mary, who bowed to God's plan for her life despite all that it would mean. 

Joseph, who did the honourable thing.

Elizabeth and Zechariah, whose son would go before to prepare the way.

Anna, who recognised the Baby as the Redeemer of Israel and wasn't afraid to tell of Him to everyone she met.

Simeon, who had been looking forward to Christ's coming and rejoiced to see it.

The shepherds, who immediately left their work to go find Him.

The wise men, who spent time and effort to find the Babe so that they could worship.

King Herod, who was not so much interested as he was terrified about how this birth could threaten his existence.

And the townspeople. Those who made room for Him and who came to pay homage. Wait, that didn't happen at all. No, most, if not all, continued on with their life as if nothing earth-shattering, life-changing, history-making, far-reaching, not to mention supernatural and never-before-known, had just occurred.

How many of these characters are like those we come across today? How many really care that the Son of God came down into a broken world to redeem us to Himself and then was practically ignored?

How many are like Herod who wanted to completely annihilate the existence of Christ because He threatened all that they hold dear?

How many are like the townspeople, the neighbours, perhaps even some were relatives, who just didn't care? Let them go about their own business and you go about yours but don't bother them with talk about Jesus?

How many are an Anna or Simeon who actually cared and understood?

Or shepherds, perhaps not fully understanding, yet had no choice but to worship regardless?

Or wise men, whose search for wisdom brought them to bow down at the feet of Jesus?

More importantly, this Christmas, which character in the story are you?

(Nativity scene crafted by my older granddaughters. Youngest grandchild - to date - in the manger.)

The Hills

Last weekend DH and I spent some time helping Son#4 and his wife pack up their home in anticipation of renovations starting this past week. The plan is that they will be complete before baby arrives ... but as DIL#3 can attest, renovations and babies never go according to plan. I'm not sure why it is in our family that we participate in renovations at the most inconvenient of times and with the brightest of hopes - given the evidence around us - but we do.

Saturday afternoon was lovely for Spring in the Capital and we took some time out to go for a walk through bush that is being regenerated alongside a small creek. That such a haven can be found in the midst of a city was a surprise to me (being rather unfamiliar with cities) and as I gazed around, I was reminded of the Psalmist's words: I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth (Psalm 121:1-2).

I will lift up mine eyes. Something we all need to remember - and do - whether we are in the midst of renovations, or trial, or just life.

A Lone Voice

 

Other Christians have said it better and I don't have influence over a huge blog following, but perhaps that's the whole point. Sometimes a lone voice has to speak up. And where in the months and months of planning and thrashing out details, was the lone voice? Why was not one voice heard to ask, "Is this really how we want to present ourselves to the rest of the world?"

I'm talking about the opening ceremony of the 2024 Olympic Games. 

According to headlines, Christians worldwide have been offended and outraged. I can understand the backlash, but I'm not sure that I feel outraged. More just sad. Perhaps a little frightened because it shows how dark our world as become. But more sad than anything.

Sad for the depravity of mankind.

And sad for the French people.

I don't know a lot about France and its citizens. I studied French at school and learnt a little about the culture and history and language of that country. My teachers often emphasised its cuisine and beauty, its fashion and classical arts, its architecture and lifestyle. And yet, in recent days, those chosen to represent France to the rest of the world, rather than celebrating the good, it was as if they deliberately highlighted and celebrated their shame. Actually delighted in it.

Why any of us have been surprised by what has happened, I don't know. Perhaps because it appeared so blatant and even out of place. As a child, along with countless other families at the time, we gathered as a family around the TV and watched the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games. It was entertainment. It was fascinating. It often highlighted the national pride citizens had in their country. It set the tone for the rest of the Games. Yet this was not something I would have wanted any young child to witness in 2024.

Despite their protestations that they didn't intend to offend anyone, as Christians we have to remember that the world will hate us. Jesus said that just as He was hated, we would be too. But we also need to remember that as Jesus was dying on the cross, He was mocked by the very people He came to save. Those crucified alongside Him. The soldiers. Even the religious leaders. It should not be any surprise then that the world mocks Him now. 

Yet, just as on the cross, He offered forgiveness to the thief that repented, He extends the same offer of salvation to the very ones who mock Him now. The same offer of love and grace and mercy towards the very ones who mock Him ... towards those condemned and caught in their own sin and shame ... towards those who have no idea of the danger of their eternal souls as they flaunt their sin and laugh at everything that is holy.

Jesus came to save them. The sinner. The depraved. The mocker. He loves them just as He loved us and called us while we were still sinners. 

And perhaps more than outrage or offense, or any other response, we need to focus on this: that our God is able to save even the most hardened sinner. 

[Photos courtesy of cyril mzn on Unsplash]

Ordinary Days

DH and I have spent a lovely month in Texas visiting with family. As our time was rapidly drawing to a close, Son#5 asked us what had been the highlight. Without hesitation, we said, "This," indicating the time spent with him and his family.

The joy and beauty of ordinary days. Of being able to: stack dishes in the dishwasher or fold laundry; cuddle The Most Adorable Granddaughter#9, especially while she sleeps; see and chat with our son and daughter-in-law; go for walks to the park or the swimming pool (yes, I've actually done more than just dip my toes in); worship together at church; navigate the grocery store; try out Tex-Mex cuisine; work on a small project for Son#5; and be bossed around by The Most Independent Granddaughter in the World (oops, I mean The Most Adorable Granddaughter#8).

Another highlight was meeting DIL#5's family. Since Son#5 and DIL#5 were engaged and married during COVID, and it all happened so far away, we didn't get to meet DIL#5's family at the usual engagement, wedding planning, and wedding events. We had met DIL#5's parents once - when they flew out to New Zealand (possibly in alarm) to meet the young man their daughter was dating while she was studying downunder. Their trip happened to coincide with the birth of The Most Charming Grandson#1 and we were able to be in the same town and meet them. Like us, they were also concerned about how this long distance relationship was going to work itself out ... yet, here we are, almost five years later, a thriving marriage and family.

My first meeting of the rest of DIL#5's family happened when I was sitting outside with The Most Adorable Granddaughter#9 asleep in my arms. It was a typical Texan summer day and I was feeling hot and sticky and uncomfortable, and every person I knew and who could do the honours of introductions (DH, Son#5, DIL#5, The Most Adorable Granddaughter#8, DIL#'s father and grandparents) were either off getting ready, having a nap, or inside cooking dinner when the rest of the family suddenly appeared and introduced themselves. As a socially shy and awkward adult, this was a little daunting, but they soon proved they were as lovely and gracious as I had been led to believe, and in no time at all, I was made to feel like family.

Another highlight, especially for this lover of history, was seeing something of Texas' history. Especially the Alamo. This definitely should be number one on the list of places to visit while in Texas. As the daughter of a lover of western films, I had heard of the Alamo, but that was about where my knowledge stopped. After visiting (on another typical Texan day with the temperature in the high 30s - Celsius that is), I had to come back and read and research everything I could get my hands on. Definitely would come back and visit again.

Other palces of interest included:

Capitol Building in Austin (where I also saw my first squirrel) ...

A church modelled on Mission Espanda  (surely we could be forgiven for thinking it was as old as the original even though I have since learnt it wasn't built until sometime after 1970) ...

... just to name two. As a writer, there was much inspiration, however, I doubt I will be using Texas as the setting for a story any time soon. One month is hardly long enough to gain an understanding of the people or the place. Besides, they don't drink hot tea and, like me, my characters would sadly miss it!

Cherish

This past weekend we have had the joy and privilege of catching up with some very special life-long friends. I say "life-long" because we met them shortly before we were married when they were still newlyweds. Since we have recently celebrated our fortieth wedding anniversary and they are soon to celebrate their forty-first wedding anniversary, I think lifelong is appropriate.

Before they arrived, I was incredibly stressed. 

I wanted the house to be perfect but the day before they were due it was windy and there was fresh dust on the windowsills and leaves on the veranda.

I wanted the garden to be immaculate but there were far too many weeds for my liking for that to be the case.

I wanted to look worthy of my friend but felt unattractive on so many levels.

I had to remind myself that she wasn't coming to critique my house or my garden or how well I had aged or not. She was coming to see me. And, as I quickly discovered, that was enough. That it was our friendship that was centre and everything else paled into insignificance.

We had two full days together and two days of travelling. A lot for one weekend. But we made the most of it.

Hours in the car provided ample opportunity to sit and chat and the time simply flew. Teasing each other seemed natural. Gathering with some of our family around the meal table felt like family. Deep and heartfelt discussions we were on the same page. Singing together in church during congregational singing brought back memories of singing together when we were so much younger. 

We laughed. We cried. We joked. We ate. And we connected.

I woke this morning knowing it was our last part-day with them and realising how much DH and I will miss them. But not just them but also the type of friendship we have - where we are couple friends. That is, where both DH and I are equally close to both the husband and the wife. We've never had that since we moved here and I realised this weekend how much I miss it. I'm sure I valued it when we had it, but this weekend showed me that it is something that should be treasured and nurtured. It's special.

But that's not all that I will miss. These friends are the type of friends that aren't easily found. They are the type of friends that have walked with us through pain and joy and vice versa. The type of friends where we would hold each other accountable in our marriages or Christian walk if necessary. The type of friends that feel so much like family, that it took our sons years to learn that they actually weren't related by blood or law!

That's what I'm going to miss. 

And that's what I'm going to cherish.

Ointment and perfume delight the heart, And the sweetness of a man's friend gives delight by hearty counsel. Proverbs 27:9, NKJV.