Rebecca Price Janney

Historian/Author/Speaker

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Finding Beauty in a Messy Place

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The U.S. is halfway through a fifteen day period of social distancing to stay the spread of the dreaded Corona Virus. How are you and your family and friends faring? This is a stressful time. The other day in the grocery store I saw people wearing surgical masks and with scarves wrapped around their noses and mouths. Entire rows of cleaning and paper products gaped like mouths missing all their teeth. There was still abundant food and most supplies, but fear had taken up residence on many people’s faces. During another trip to pick up prescriptions, portable tables perched against the counters holding signs with the clear message customer were to come no closer. There were no sanitizers, wipes, disinfectant, thermometers, or toilet paper.

Within the last two weeks a couple of my favorite radio hosts invited me to do their shows, to provide historical perspective to this Corona Virus emergency, and I gladly accepted. I’m providing links to “Our American Heritage” with Arch Hunter, and “Heart of the Matter” with Cynthia L. Simmons at the end of this post. Before I do, however, I have another story to share.

On Saturday I armed myself with rakes and went to do battle with a weed-choked garden area to the right of our driveway. We moved to this house at the end of last May, so watching spring unfold here is a new phenomenon for me. I knew this particular flower bed was beautiful in full bloom, but when fall came, and slender reeds turned to pulpy stalks, flowers gave their last petals, and trees deposited spent leaves on it, suddenly this feature became unremarkable, even ugly.

As I began pulling back a thick layer of damp leaves, my eyes opened wider to the sight of tender green shoots springing up from the earth in neatly planted formations. A daffodil nodded its head in greeting, and clusters of bright yellow-tipped flowers I can’t yet identify delighted me. A few well-placed rocks accented the plantings, and a bush reached out its bare branches in expectation. By the time I was finished, I stood there marveling at the beauty.

A realization struck me—in the past few years America has become choked with nastiness and bad feelings, a place in which freedom of speech and belief have taken hard hits. Our uncivil tongues have inflicted great damage. But underneath that muck lies our national soul, the beauty of our history and traditions, the way we care for those in need and rush to help those in distress. Perhaps our national emergency will be the “rake” in our citizens’ hands to clear out the mess and expose the goodness.

God bless you and your family and friends. I hope you enjoy listening to these interviews and are uplifted by their messages.

Arch Hunter:

Cynthia L. Simmons

https://directory.libsyn.com/episode/index/id/13619189/tdest_id/1256168

The Inspiring Story of Harriet Beecher Stowe

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Maybe because I’m a writer I’m fascinated by the lives of those who share my profession. I usually don’t even pay much attention to differences in genre; the bond we share as wordsmiths is strong enough to go beyond other variations. Maybe you’re interested in the lives of those who labor at the same work you do.

I’m especially drawn to the way writers have been inspired to create certain books, the obstacles they’ve had to overcome—especially hearing about how many rejections they endured before getting published!—and the impact of their messages. The story of Harriet Beecher Stow touches upon all of these points.

In my podcast this week I talk about her background as the daughter of the famous 19th century preacher and reformer Lyman Beecher. Her parents raised her to use her gifts to make a difference in the world, and Harriet yearned to see an end to slavery in her time. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a “voice” like her brothers, all who became preachers and could openly address the social ills of their era. In that day, middle class women were discouraged from speaking publicly.

Nevertheless, God entrusted Harriet with a story so compelling, so impactful on American society, when she met Abraham Lincoln he is reported to have said, “So, this is the little lady who made this big war.”

Allow me to share this story in its entirety on Anchor.fm/rebeccapricejanney, or you can read the account in my book, Great Women in American History.

A Sweet Sweet Spirit

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I’m still basking in the glow of last month’s visit to the Asbury University campus for the 50th anniversary celebration of the 1970 revival. For me, being there felt like a taste of heaven, getting to meet so many of the men and women who had been students during that blessed time when God’s presence was so apparent on the campus. Here’s a special story from that wonderful event.

I often referred to Robert Coleman’s book, One Divine Moment, when researching my novel, Sweet, Sweet Spirit. In his account of the revival, he told the story of an Asbury student traveling to Azusa Pacific College in Los Angeles and how, when he told what was happening at Asbury, revival broke out there as well. One Azusa student felt compelled by the Holy Spirit to go to the home of Sirhan Sirhan, Robert Kennedy’s assassin, and witness to the family. This is something I mentioned in my novel because of my heroine’s fondness for RFK.

At Asbury last month I was standing in the front of the auditorium when my husband came toward me from the back with a man he was especially eager for me to meet. He said, “This is the man who went to Sirhan Sirhan’s house.” My mouth fell open. I felt as if the Lord had given me a special, sweet gift in meeting this man. We had a pleasant visit, and I got to know more about his auspicious call upon the Sirhan family, for whom he continues to pray.

One

In Honor of Black History Month, a Story about Mary McLeod Bethune

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Mary McLeod Bethune

One of the most inspiring stories from Black History I’ve profiled is about educator Mary McLeod Bethune. To hear the breadth of her narrative, I recommend the chapter I wrote about her in my book Great Women in American History, and my recent podcast at Anchor.fm/rebeccapricejanney.

All of us have critical experiences, sometimes moments, in our childhood that help shine the path to our future. I’d like to share with you such a story from Mrs. Bethune’s girlhood.

Mary McLeod was born on July 10, 1875 in Mayesville, South Carolina to Samuel and Patsy McLeod, former slaves who owned a cotton farm. The couple had seventeen children. Mary, born ten years after the Civil War, was number fifteen. Her mother did washing and ironing for her former master Ben Wilson’s family, and Mary liked to tag along during the deliveries; this meant having a morning off from pulling weeds in the cotton field.

One day when Mary was nine and her mother went inside for the few cents doing the Wilsons’ clothes brought in, Mary wandered over to a magical-looking children’s playhouse and peeked inside. Two white girls about her age sat among an impressive collection of dolls, furniture, and china dishes. One of them called out, “Hello Mary! Do you want to come in?” Of course she did. She wasn’t admitted to such circles every day.

“Let’s play we’re keeping house. You can watch the baby while I have tea with my friend.” She shoved a doll toward Mary, who held the beautiful object to her breast. The next minute she gave a jolt when the little girl scolded her for not making the baby stop crying. “It’s ruining my tea!”

Mary started walking the doll around the room when the sight of a book captivated her, and she picked it up in awe. Her parents had just one book, a Bible, but no one could read it. To have another book just lying around carelessly was more than she could fathom. Unexpectedly the white girl swooped down upon her and grabbed it. “Put that down! You don’t know how to read.”

Mary tingled with shame. On the way back to her family’s farm she wondered why whites had all kinds of nice things and got to boss everyone around. Why could they read while so many blacks were kept in a state of ignorance? She concluded the inequality must have something to do with reading and education, so Mary said a prayer. “Dear Lord, I don’t t think we’re so fee. Help me to get educated.” Smiling to herself she decided, “I’m going to learn to read!” At home she asked her father’s permission to go to school, but he told her somberly, “There isn’t any school.”

One day, however, a black woman in city clothes, Miss Emma Wilson, came to the McLeod cabin. She explained that the Mission Board of the Presbyterian Church had sent her to get a school going in Mayesville for black children. She hoped that starting classes after the cotton-picking season would attract more scholars. Sam and Patsy looked at each other, smiled, and said, “We can spare this one.”

Young Mary was beside herself. “I’m gonna read? You mean I’m gonna read, Miss Wilson?”

As the woman smiled, the little girl murmured “Thank you, Ma’am.” Then she sank to her knees and folded her hands. “Thank you, God, for delivering me.”

This was just the beginning of a long and illustrious career.

A Celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Asbury College Revival of 1970

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Last Saturday my husband and I ventured to Wilmore, Kentucky, home of his alma mater, Asbury University, for the 50th anniversary commemoration of the 1970 revival. I was to speak on a panel about the revival in its historical context, and to launch my newest novel, SWEET, SWEET SPIRIT: ONE WOMAN’S SPIRITUAL JOURNEY TO THE ASBURY COLLEGE REVIVAL.

I first heard about the 1970 revival in 1995. Scott and I had gone to Asbury for his class reunion, and there was a film shown, “When God Comes,” about this incredible outpouring on the campus. A routine chapel service became a week-long, 24/7 revival that spread throughout the nation, and on to five continents via “witness teams” of Asbury students. Wherever they went and told the story of what was happening in Hughes Auditorium, the revival broke out there as well.

The story took hold of me and wouldn’t let go. In the next few years I wrote brief accounts in nonfiction history books I’d written, but somehow I knew there needed to be more. That “more” became the second book in my Morning in America revival series with Elk Lake Publishing. (Book one, MORNING GLORY, takes place during the First Great Awakening in the 18th century, and won a Golden Scroll Award last August in Nashville.)

SWEET, SWEET SPIRIT takes its title from the song many consider to be the theme of the 1970 revival. It tells the story of a young woman, caught in the despair of her hero’s assassination in 1968, searching for God, but unconvinced He cares about the humans He created. Until a friend at Asbury calls her one night in early February and tells her God is there, and He wants there too.

Of the memories I’ll take from my trip to Asbury this week is the opportunity I had to meet dozens of people who were there in 1970, men and women who went out and in many ways, changed the world. And still are. These are my heroes.

I invite you to visit Asbury University’s website for more information and videos, including those of this week’s services. And of course, pray for our nation as once again, we need to be revived.

A Celebration of the Asbury College Revival of 1970 – and the Release of SWEET, SWEET SPIRIT: ONE WOMAN’S SPIRITUAL JOURNEY TO THE ASBURY COLLEGE REVIVAL

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Think of America from 1968-1970. The country was a hot mess. Assassinations. Race riots. College campuses aflame. Vietnam. The generation gap.

And then God showed up at a small Kentucky college where revival broke out, and quickly spread throughout the country.

My new novel SWEET SWEET SPIRIT is the story of one woman’s spiritual journey from the assassinations of 1968 to the February 1970 Asbury College Revival. The book is now available at Amazon.com.

Listen to the inspiring story behind SWEET SWEET SPIRIT. Please share any memories of that time!

Listen to the most recent episode of my podcast: The 1970 Asbury College Revival- Part One https://lnkd.in/e6aA4Gx