The Emperor’s New Clothes

Looking at photos of our new Prime Minister, Justin Trudeau, sauntering along in Toronto’s pride parade, reminded me of Hans Christian Andersen’s short story, “The Emperor’s new Clothes”. My grade two teacher read the tale aloud to the class and I felt immense shame for the emperor strutting his way through the village.

In the story, two villainous swindlers arrive in the kingdom and convince the vain emperor they can weave intricately patterned clothing. The catch? The gorgeous outfits become invisible to those not fit for their jobs or not wise. The situation presents a conundrum. How can the esteemed officials or the emperor himself say they cannot see the outfits without jeopardizing their positions?  To cover their self-doubt, they decide collectively to present the emperor in his fabulous new clothes the next day in the village parade.    

The villagers ooh and aah over the emperor’s garments until a small child pipes up to say,

            “But he doesn’t have anything on!”

            “… listen to the voice of the innocent,” says the father. 

I’m not a little child or an innocent, but even I can see the Prime Minister parades naked. Sadly, he left home without putting on his wisdom, discretion, integrity, impartiality …

“Blessed is the one who finds wisdom and the one who gets understanding.” Proverbs 3:13

Have yourself a super week!

Twinness

If I asked you to tell me three sets of twins, quickly, who would you come up with? I asked myself and came up with Cain and Abel, The Bobbsey Twins, and Jack and Jill. Upon further investigation, I learned Cain and Abel were not actually twins “She conceived and bore Cain, … and again, she bore his brother Abel.” (Gen. 4:1-2 ESV) Apparently, the comma proves significant and again is a polite way of saying Adam …. ummm ... knew his wife again.   

And who didn’t love the Bobbsey twins? The longest running series of children’s novels with over one hundred books about the Nan and Burt, Flossie and Freddie, and their detecting capers in the town of Lakeport. 

Jack and Jill? I have no idea why they came to mind. History would say they were sweethearts, royalty, or perhaps even two priests but they were never twins

However, I am pleased to announce the arrival of our own darling, twin granddaughters born Tuesday, June 28th, 2016.

             Aurelia Ruby 6 lb. 14 oz.                               Vienna Pearl 6 lbs. 15 oz.

Aren’t they just the sweetest?

Here are some neat facts you may or may not know about twins:

1)      There is most likely no genetics involved in having identical twins (one fertilized egg that              splits).

2)      In identical twins, if the egg splits after the tenth day you will have mirror image babies i.e.            opposite cowlicks, birthmarks, dominant hands.

3)      The chances of having fraternal twins (two fertilized eggs) have gone from 1 in 150 in 1980            to 1 in 33 currently.   

4)      1 to 2% of fraternal twins have different dads. (I’ll let you look into it)

5)      Your chances of having fraternal twins the second time is four times higher. (Yikes!)

Are Aurelia and Vienna identical or fraternal? Time or DNA testing will tell  

Have a great week!

Sources:  twinstwice.com Twins on Twins by Kathryn McLaughlin Abbe & Frances McLaughlin Gill

On Perfection

My husband is not perfect and he is perhaps the worst photographer I’ve ever met.  Our photo collection includes dozens of the ones I’ve included here. Me as a new mom, can’t you tell by the arm? Or me, posing in my new, designer outfit with the kids - apparently my face was optional, and lastly, mine and a friend’s torsos having a wonderful time in the Pacific Ocean. In the past, we’ve gone on vacations and come home without a single picture of my complete person. I don’t know why, but Freud could probably shed some light on the reason.

Matt’s not perfect … and neither am I – far from it. Marriage doesn’t require perfection. It requires two people committed to working out their differences and encouraging one another to grow or mature.

“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing one another in love.” (Eph: 4:2 NIV)

Not an easy task. I’m not gentle and patience eludes me most of the time. But with the Lord’s help though, our relationship, (any relationship) can improve.

 “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.” (I Pet. 4:8)

These pictures are from two years ago when we traveled through Europe.  

I guess it's an improvement. 

Crisis?

I turned 50. turned (v.) To cause to move around an axis or center. I’m not sure why we use the expression. I didn’t move around it; I landed right on it, the big 5 - 0. At age 24, I worked with a fellow in his early fifties. He would tell me he felt “eighteen on the inside.” I would think well, you look old on the outside. And now I have become the same young/old person. But, honestly, how many eighteen year olds ache everywhere when they get up in the morning? 

The actual event - fantastic - a gathering of family and friends in a Japanese tea-house nestled in a lush garden along a bubbling creek. My kids and husband managed to keep the whole thing a secret (not an easy task). When we arrived, I argued about opening the sliding, silk partition because I thought I was disturbing a traditional Japanese tea, and this eighteen year old almost fainted when everyone shouted, surprise! We spent the afternoon eating scrumptious food, watching amazing video presentations, and playing ridiculous games. I couldn’t have asked for more. Thanks to Matt, Jesse, Jamie, Joel, and all those who helped make the day special!

What does the future hold? I have no more idea than I had at any other birthday. In fact, the older I get, the more I realize I have very little control over the direction my life will take. I’m glad the Lord knows though, and I’m glad He encourages me through His word.

            Isaiah 46:4       “Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am he who will sustain                                      you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will                                      rescue you.” (NIV)

And the car? My birthday gift … 

  for two weeks!

Rat a Tat Tat

I sat up and felt for the covers when the sharp pings punched the air. Was I at home, in bed, where I should be at 4:30 am? Yes. Was someone shooting at us? Probably not. So what on earth was the racket? Further investigation revealed Mr. Woody Woodpecker sitting on our furnace chimney and regaling us with his impression of a machine gun. After a couple of minutes he flew to the neighbors and the sound dropped to a soft echo one could fall asleep to.

And then he returned! This went on for two hour intervals, day and night, for a week and a half. I was starting to develop a twitch in my shoulder and several symptoms of PTSD. We had to do something. I strategized with the neighbors on how to best do away with the protected species. They didn’t think the pellet gun would accomplish the job and they said shooting the shot gun in town might develop a whole different type of problem.

Matt thought we should follow the safest course of action and buy some sharp wire spikes like we’d seem on European restaurant roofs. Off to the hardware store we went. The fellow behind the counter stroked his eighteen inch beard and shook his head. No, they didn’t carry anything like that; in fact, he’d never heard of anything like that. Perhaps we should try making a papier-mâché owl.  

I’m not a sculptor. A giant lump of flour and water resembling ET would not trick our feathered nemesis. And what if it rained? An idea popped into my head. We should form a large globe of chicken wire, wrap it around the chimney top, and wire it on. The little fellow wouldn’t be able to reach the tin and my symptoms would probably diminish in about six months or so.

Matt took the idea even further and fashioned the tidy solution you see here. Yay teamwork!  

And now you know why he wraps all the presents. 

“Iron sharpens iron, and one man/woman sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17 ESV)

Have a super week! 

Guns, Drugs, and Automobiles

Have you ever felt like you narrowly escaped something horrendous? A couple of days ago I read an article about the city of Juarez, Mexico which shares the border with El Paso, Texas by Sam Quinones of National Geographic.  Read Article The article details the rampant violence and danger in the city of Juarez from 2008 to 2012 as two duelling drug cartels fought for access to the US market.  They extorted millions from local businesses for so called protection and kidnapped adults and children for ransom. In 2010, at the peak of the violence, over 3700 people were murdered in drug related deaths. A city, about the population of Calgary, exceeded the entire country of Canada’s homicide rate by seven times!

We were there, at the peak.

Matt and I left on a bus with a bunch of other Canadians to drive down to Juarez in February 2010 to help out at a local mission for a couple of weeks. We knew Juarez could be violent; we didn’t know it was more violent than anywhere else in the world. We do now. Looking back, I did wonder why the local leader of the mission’s base refused to leave the US and check our progress as we painted our way through his building. I assumed he was upset because one of the welding students had been shot, drug around behind a truck, and left in the sand beside the gates a couple of days before we arrived.

As a team, we went about our days building, cleaning, and helping with just a vague notion of the violence swirling around us. But these things I do remember:

               ·         Jeeps full of soldiers with machine guns holding onto the roll bars                      and staring down into our vehicle as they passed

               ·    Mario, our interpreter, crying and wanting to leave the city the                          day after fourteen people were killed at a girl’s birthday party 

               ·    A giant, silver ball shaped disco burned out with its doors                                hanging off the hinges

               ·         Desolate shacks up on the mesa because of a gunfight

And one afternoon, a white car with blackened windows pulled up alongside three of us as we walked across the sand from the community hall to the base. I’d spent the afternoon on my knees, under the stairs, tiling a portion of a closet floor amidst garbage and rat poop. I was so cold; it felt like my bladder had turned to ice. We were covered with drywall mud and tile grout. A car window rolled down and the teenagers inside … laughed and then pulled away. I guess we didn’t look like money.

“For He will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” (Psalm 91:11 ESV)

Thank you, Lord.

It’s All in the Deets

“When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, ‘Lord, what about this man?” (John 21:21 ESV)

Really, Peter? That’s the question you want to ask. In John chapter 21, Jesus reveals Himself to the disciples for the third time since rising from the dead. And with the Lord’s intervention, the men haul in a large catch of fish from the sea. When they arrive on the shore, Jesus invites them to breakfast.  

After breakfast, Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves Him; perhaps in response to Peter’s thrice denial before the crucifixion. Each time Peter responds, “You know that I love You.” Jesus then goes on to foretell Peter’s death and makes mention of his hands being stretched out. Yikes!

Later, upon Jesus’ invitation, the two walk away from the crowd and John, another disciple, follows. Peter then asks the question, “Lord, what about this man?”  Why is he worried about John or how John’s going to die? Peter, you are talking to God, take a deep breath and then beg for mercy. How could he be so fixated on a rival for Christ’s affection?  We’re talking life or death here.

“Jesus said to him, ‘If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!” (Verse 22)

But … can’t we just have a little friendly discussion about who’s going to die and how? And what exactly do you mean by “What is that to you?” It’s everything to me; we’re all in this together, right? Why can’t I thrust the focus onto a fellow believer? I’d much rather talk about him.

“You follow me!” A little simplistic, don’t you think. I have comparisons to make, offences to take up. Lord, You make it sound way easier than it really is. How can I possibly just worry about myself and how I’m going to follow you? Maybe if you gave me a few more details about what you’re actually looking for …

 “You follow me!”

On Shifting Sands

Award-winning author of over twelve novels, Allison Pittman, edited my original manuscript for All That Glitters. I was encouraged by her writer’s intuition and positive critiquing throughout the process. She’s developed an amazing ability to draw you into times gone by. Both of her series about sister wives and the roaring twenties are fascinating reads.

The novel On Shifting Sands changes up the typical point of view found in a historical romance. Written in first person, we meet Nola Merrill, a pastor’s wife languishing in the Oklahoma dust bowl of the 1930’s. We can taste the sand between our teeth and feel the grit on our pillow which Nola faces every day trying to raise her son and daughter. The small town, where her husband pastors, offers little comfort as everyone is either destitute or they’ve skipped town.  

Jim, a long lost friend of her husband’s and current drifter, enters the picture and Nora’s thoughts stray, particularly when her husband begins work in an adjoining town. Adding to the problem, Nora’s father’s destructive words constantly play in her mind. I found myself begging her not let him define her.

On Shifting Sands is a good read but not an easy read. The writing portrays the world so well you find yourself frustrated, scared, and at times ashamed. Like any of us, Nora must return to the Lord and seek Him for her joy and solace in a difficult world. Does Nora overcome the pain of her upbringing and cling to the One who has promised to never leave her or forsake her? I won’t tell.

For interesting tidbits check out Allison’s website at https://allisonkpittman.com/

Woman Impersonates Medical Personnel

Note: Book Review of Allison Pittman's On Shifting Sand to follow next week in order to share this timely story.

I didn’t plan it. It just happened. After the safety spiel, I followed the other volunteers at the Fort Mac Evacuee Centre through the labyrinth of barriers and toward the work stations. We lost a few to the registration desk, men’s wear section, and the water supply pallets. Next-up, household supplies and personal items, I put up my hand and was ushered to the table labeled MEDICINE.  Our leader said you just hand out pain meds, hand sanitizer, that sort of thing. Easy enough. I started to organize the table after being given my brief instructions, “Give the evacuees enough for a week.”

My stomach fluttered a mite when I began straightening catheter supply kits, diabetic lancets, and large wound dressings. The table held a collection of other products like contact solution, antacids, and denture care as well. I’m a long way from a pharmaceutical guru; I don’t even take cold meds. My experience extends from, I used to take Tylenol and now I take Advil. I read as many labels as I could before the first of the evacuees arrived at my station.

Apparently, when you stand behind a table labeled MEDICINE it is assumed you know something about the topic. I fielded questions about cold remedies, wound care, and stomach ailments and then cobbled together supplies from the meager resources. I’m really hoping mouthwash works as sore throat relief. And I’m not sure who eyes opened wider, the evacuee’s or mine, when a fellow worker pointed out the little Turkish pot I was suggesting they used for inhaling steam was actually for pouring liquid into your nostrils.

I extend my sympathy to all of those who have suffered from the fire. How painful to be ripped away from your home and all your “stuff”. Some of them will never see their homes again. I appreciated their politeness and their gratefulness. It was an honour to be a tiny part of their care. Thank you for your patience with the bumbler behind the MEDICINE table!

I received a lot of requests for the following products which were not available and would make great donations:

                 Headache Medication      (Almost Everybody)

                 Allergy Relief                 (Adult and children)

                 Cold Remedies               (Day and night)

                 Sore Throat Lozenges 

                 Muscle Pain Relief           (Rub A535 type products)

You Can Do It!

Last weekend, I experienced my first “So you’re the author,” comment when meeting a stranger.  I very much wanted to look over my shoulder and see if I could pass the compliment on to someone behind me who might be better prepared with an answer. I thought it unlikely another author had walked into the small gathering nestled in the lush greens of the neighbor’s backyard. I fired back my finely crafted response. “Anyone can write a book.” How would I know?

I did some research.  Eighty percent of adults want to write a book. The process involves thousands of grueling hours, alone, at your computer, so we definitely have to leave out the 20% who don’t want to. Of all those who set out to write a book about 3% will finish. I’m feeling better about myself already. Out of the 3% who finish their manuscripts, about 20% will publish them. I thought those stats were fairly high. I guess once writers have their babies in hand it’s easier to stay motivated. That means about six people out of every thousand who want to write a book publish it for the general public.

The great news is google estimates about 130 million books have been published in all of human history. It can be done! I encourage you,  if you’ve had characters keeping you company for years or a burning idea the world needs to hear about to write, and then to write again, and then to write some more, until you’re finished.

When I finally forced myself to complete my novel, I submitted it for editing to a professional editing service and lucked out by working with the well-known American faith-based romance writer Allison Pittman. Her positive reception of my manuscript and encouragement to persevere through all the editing, rewriting, and submitting made a huge difference. I’m going to review one of her latest novels about a pastor's wife struggling with adultery during the Oklahoma dust bowl next week.

In the mean-time, dig out your forgotten pages, begin a new tale, be one of the six of every 1250 adults who publish!

Let me know what it’s about, I’d love to be one of your cheerleaders.      

Rare Condition

Do you ever wonder what kind of people open those disgusting videos on Facebook? Not the pornographic ones, I’m talking about the videos of a man lancing a large abscess on his cheek and the white ooze and puss squirting out into the sink, or perhaps the person pulling out the six inch long ingrown hair. Well, people like me. Enough of the frolicking lambs and cute puppies who look like they're talking. The gross gets my attention.

The battle may be won at the headlines, so here goes. 

          A)  Woman with rare condition fears for the fate of her … Read more!

          B)  Find out what this obnoxious symptom might indicate about your health.

          C)  Everything’s doubled! To see more pics -  Click Here.

Should I take up tabloid writing? Let me go one step further and actually provide the information I promised instead of making you filter through buckets of advertising with no conclusions.

        A)   Ankles

           B)    You are pregnant with twins!

           C)  Aren’t they just the cutest things you ever saw?

The little darlings will arrive in June. Proud parents are our daughter Jamie and her husband Sam. The arrival of the twins brings our grandchildren count up to nine and we can’t wait.

I never would have imagined. Girl meets boy at Christian camp. Boy proposes to girl in a flower filled park with a ring stashed in a pine-cone. Girl says yes! Boy and girl marry in a beautiful outdoor wedding at her parent’s home. And seven years later we have - no, not swollen ankles – a beautiful family (of seven)! 

Ode to Zeke

I’ve lost pets before and I felt sad. But I wasn’t prepared for the chest constricting sorrow of losing our beautiful black Lab Zeke. Still sailing on the high of launch night for my novel All That Glitters I returned home and opened the garage door. Zeke, the faithful greeter and sniffer of all who entered our home, stumbled up and struggled to cross the floor. His hips and tail looked malformed yet they’d been perfectly normal earlier in the day. Lately, he’d taken to making torso sized holes in the chain link fence. He would pull himself through and go swimming with the ducks in the pond across the street. I assumed he must have dislocated his back end in today’s hole which was too small for his large frame. I called a vet friend and Matt and Zeke popped over so she could take a look.

The friend thought it was a tumour and we should bring him by the clinic the next day. How could it be cancer? Three days before he’d romped through the woods as we walked with friends. We hadn’t noticed anything unusual until tonight. Zeke struggled to get into my car the next morning. At the clinic, I shared my dislocation theory with the girls behind the counter. With a quick glance at one another, they informed me my vet friend had already prepared them for Zeke’s arrival. I was still convinced a snappy chiropractic move would set everything aright.

X-rays confirmed cancer. A fast growing tumour had wrapped around the end of his spine and solidified several vertebrae. By the end of the day he couldn’t walk, and we chose to let him go peacefully.

He leaves behind more than a collection of holes in our fence. He leaves behind a hole in our hearts. No more soft whumps against the wall with a black tail to greet us in the morning. No more utter and complete jubilation when we return home, even if we were only gone for a few minutes. And no more shiny black companion to roam the paths and trails through the woods.

“Who knows whether the spirit of man goes upward and the spirit of the beast goes down into the earth?” (Ecc. 3:21 ESV)

We miss you, Zeke, lots.

Zeke after he decided to go swimming in his tux at our daughter's wedding.

Our First Nation Friends

Recent events in the news draw attention to the vulnerability of First Nations men, women, and children. My heart hurts for the missing, the murdered, and the hopeless. In Psalm 82 the scriptures call us to “maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.” (ESV)

For five years, Matt and I, and a couple of friends, led a youth group on a local native reserve. The following adventure happened on a cold night just after New Year’s.

Looking into the change room mirror, I swiped my fingers through my hair. I’d forgotten a comb; my charges were escaping out the door so the rat’s nest would have to do. We’d brought the youth to town for a swim night to celebrate the Christmas season and we’d enjoyed the diving board and hot tub.

In the parking lot, the eight youth (yes, eight) eleven years and up and jumped into the Ford pickup with Matt and I. Forty-five minutes later red and blue lights flashed at the turn off to the reserve. Matt did the reasonable thing and drove on past it. Normally, we didn’t worry about overloading the truck and we’d never run into anyone who cared. The maximum we’d crammed into the cab was thirteen and it was a lot of fun.

But how were we going to get the kids home without getting a ticket? Matt’s workplace was about a twenty-five minutes  back the way we’d come and he suggested half the kids could take a tour of the gas plant while I drove the other half home. I could come back and get the rest and we could repeat the process.

An hour later, we turned into the reserve for the first time and the check stop was gone. I tootled through the back roads delivering the kids to their homes. At one point, we passed a car in the ditch with flames shooting thirty feet up into the dark sky. A sixteen year old in the back seat told me not to worry as the vehicle had been abandoned a couple of days earlier. Fair enough, I couldn’t help them anyway - roasted alive or not.

Unfortunately, on my way out, the check stop had returned. Still wearing my Exorcist hairdo, I rolled down the window to speak to the officer. “No, sir, I don’t have any identification or a driver’s license. Yes, sir, I realize it’s after midnight and, yes sir, I know where I am. No, sir, this isn’t my vehicle; it’s my husband’s company vehicle. No, I can’t prove that and no, I haven’t been drinking.”

The kind officer let me go. Should he have? Probably not. Was I a menace to their community? I’d like to think not. Although, looking back, we took chances with other people’s kids under the guise of “can’t get enough help.” We shouldn’t have.

I don’t have the answers for rescuing the First Nation’s people, but I know we need to care enough to discover them.  

“Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked.” Psalm 82:4 

Anniversary Blues

“Happy Anniversary,” I said to myself looking at the mound of wet clothes in the dryer. After thirty years, I assumed Matt knew how to put the filter in properly. It appears he did not. The dryer door bounced against the filter and stayed open. Thus, my fat jeans were a sopping mess and I needed them to go out in public. Anyone who tells you working your way through party size bags of Cheetos, dill pickle chips, and pretzels will not make a crisis smoother is lying.  They all made me feel better about Matt losing his job; however, not fitting into my regular jeans brought on my current distress. 

Perhaps the man was a little distracted. He’d just lost a job he held for over thirty-three years and planned to retire in. Since then, odd events began occurring in the house like finding the cardboard recycling in the fridge or discovering the garbage he’d taken out to the curb still in the garage.

He wasn’t the only one. An hour later when I went to put the next load of laundry in the dryer I noticed fine blue speckles on the sheets, my bras, towels etc. I’d left a pen in a pocket (something I haven’t done since year one). The pen broke during the wash cycle and the ink refill lodged in one of the holes (ink side out). As the laundry turned in the drum the tip of the refill dispersed its fine decoration throughout the entire load. Aagh!

Life is full of events which knock your world off centre and it’s easy to slip into blaming one another for the small things - the things you can control. We have to force ourselves to encourage one another and to remember the Lord encourages us.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” (2 Cor. 1:3-4 ESV)

I think Matt got it right. Later in the day I came home to find a beautiful anniversary gift waiting for me.

P.S. Matt has found employment! The person showing him the ropes - age 22.

Introducing ... Ginger!

I'm thrilled to introduce guest blogger and author Ginger Solomon. In February she released book two of her Christian romance series Broken Holidays.

Ginger Solomon is a Christian, a wife, a mother to seven, and a writer — in that order (mostly). When not homeschooling her youngest four, doing laundry or fixing dinner, she writes or reads romance of any genre, some sci-fi/fantasy, and some suspense. She’s a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, president of her local writing group, and writes regularly for two blogs. In addition to all that, she loves animals, likes to do needlework (knitting, crocheting, and sometimes cross-stitch), and is a fan of Once Upon a Time and Dr. Who.

Fairy Tale Proposals

If you’re married, how did your husband propose? Mine did it in his parents’ den before we left for a wedding. Not my definition of a fairy tale proposal, by any means, but at least he did get down on one knee.

Of course, a marriage is not defined by the question or even by the wedding itself. Unique proposals are fun to read about or watch. When I looked online as I prepared for this post, I found a website with a post called “25 Creative Marriage Proposals.”

Number one on the list was a sidewalk chalk proposal. The man had saved all the text messages from their three-year relationship and made a path of those messages, leading to him sitting on a bench. When she arrived, he proposed. She said, “Yes” in sidewalk chalk. When I asked my kids about it, they said it was cheesy and time consuming. My girls frowned. My boys laughed and said it was a waste of time to write all those down, and some of their texts they wouldn’t want written for the world to see. I assume the guy in the above scenario skipped some of the more intimate messages, and hopefully some of the more boring ones, too.

There are other wonderful examples of creativity out there, but what if you’re expecting a proposal, and it doesn’t happen? How would you feel? Heart-broken, disappointed, and probably humiliated. What if your significant other didn’t even show up to your date?

In my story, Broken Valentine, prior to the start of the story, Sarah, my heroine, is asked to a “special” dinner by her boyfriend of eighteen months. She thinks… well, we know what she thinks, right?

In comes me, the writer, barging into her story. She’s waiting in the restaurant where they’d planned to meet. It’s also where he took her on their first date. A special place.

Except dear boyfriend doesn’t show. Doesn’t call. Doesn’t text. When she logs into her Facebook page, she sees a post from him on her newsfeed, announcing his engagement. To someone else.  Just imagine how you would feel.

And then to top it all off, she has an audience. Her very attractive waiter arrives, ready with a cloth napkin to wipe her tears… And the rest is written in the book. :D

Suffice it to say, she didn’t get the fairy tale proposal she expected. Did you?

Ahhh, I feel so sorry for Sarah. She's better off without the cad isn't she? 

Being stood up on Valentine’s Day is not how Sarah Sawyer wanted the evening to go. It only gets worse when she discovers her boyfriend’s betrayal. Accepting a ride home from her attractive waiter goes against everything she’s been taught, but her choices are limited.

Michael Richmond can’t let his beautiful, yet heart-broken customer walk home, no matter how tired he is after working fourteen hour days all week.

It might be either the best decision of his life or the worst. Only time will tell if their broken hearts can become one, or if they will tear each other apart.

Amazon

Thanks so much, Ginger, I look forward to reading Broken Valentine! Check out my guest post on Ginger’s site about the conversation of my dreams ...  The Conversation

Follow Ginger Here:

Website

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Clash of the Titles

Greetings blog family,

I am so happy to announce All That Glitters has been chosen to compete in February’s Clash of the Titles. It’s a reader-based contest for Christian fiction highlighting the cover photo and only a one or two sentence summary of the novel. All That Glitters will battle against five other titles released in the month of February for one week starting today. The following is from their website:

Clash of the Titles' ultimate goal is to glorify God in everything we do, including highlighting quality Christian writers. Our next goal is to unite readers with their favorite authors while challenging them to step outside of their preferred genre to try something new.  On a lighter note, COTT is dedicated to the love of good, 'ole friendly competition! 

In our monthly games, several authors face off with their newest novels to see which is voted most worthy by reader standards. 

At Clash of the Titles, YOUR opinion counts! Whether it be during one of our monthly New Release clashes or during one of our annual awards--The Laurel or The Olympia.

Everyone is invited to vote during our new releases clashes, but if you're an avid reader of Christian fiction who isn't also a writer/agent/publicist/editor, a special invitation is extended to you to be part of a select panel of judges for our annual awards!

 

I applied a couple of weeks ago never expecting to be chosen, but the Lord was gracious and heard my plea. Yay! Now I need your help. Please go to their website, using the link below, and cast your vote … 

and tell your friends!

The Trials … of Being Famous

“Let’s go to Disneyland!” our six year old grandson shouted as we climbed into the minibus parked in front of our house. Matt had driven a group of square dancers to an event earlier on Saturday and the bus didn’t need to be returned until Monday. So why not take a late night tour of our small town with our oldest son and his family? First stop, ice-cream.

As tour guide, I shared a running dialogue of famous events and people. The highlights – "At the giant guitar on your right, well known blues player Rooster Davis (my brother) and Ann Vriend played to an enthusiastic crowd six weeks ago. At the brown house on your left, lives a famous author, who just released her first novel. The novel has sold … " Ok, I’ll admit it, I exaggerated. Honestly, it’s hard for a story teller to shut off the impulse to add exciting verbs and descriptive adjectives to their speech.

My granddaughter must have taken a fair bit to heart even though it appeared like she wasn’t listening. She took one of my books to show and tell and regaled her class with tales about her famous grandma. The little sweetheart did a great job and one of her classmates wants to buy one. However, it is NOT appropriate for grade four or anyone still in school, for that matter. The book contains references to human trafficking and life as a prostitute although tastefully done. But maybe her famous grandma and tour guide has learned a lesson.

 “Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble.” (Proverbs 21:22 ESV)

Have you ever had one of those moments when you realize the raised voice and the arms waving about to emphasize a point are your own and you’re horrified? I experienced one of those moments this week. A room full of people, heightened anxiety over Matt’s job loss and off I went - on a rant. The inciting event? A simple statement from someone across the room:

     “I don’t know if I can help people, I haven’t gone through what they’ve gone through.”

Coming on the heels of a discussion about the difference between empathy and sympathy, and my annoyance with people in my life who’ve said recently, “You just wouldn’t understand, you’ve never gone through this,” I became a wee bit excited.

Really, we can’t help people until we’ve gone through what they’ve gone through?  I’ve heard news so tragic I crawled under my bed and screamed at the top of my lungs for fifteen minutes. I’ve also encountered a situation so unbearable I dropped to my knees and scrabbled at the carpet hoping a hole would appear so I could crawl into it. Why wouldn’t I understand? 

Pain, humiliation, rejection, etc. are universal concepts. We don’t need to experience the same source as someone else in order to understand them.

Isaiah 53:3- 4 says Jesus was “despised and rejected by men: a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; … Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;”

Can Jesus really identify with and carry our sorrows if He never lost a child, had his home repossessed, or suffered marriage difficulties. The scriptures say He does. We can empathize too. Although we can’t provide the eternal healing Jesus does, we can come alongside others, identify with their anguish, and reach into their lives to provide a helping hand. 

We all have something to offer our fellow humans. Go for it!

A War Wall?

We watched the movie The War Room and enjoyed delicious pieces of green apple-caramel cheesecake at our church recently. The movie depicts an early thirties couple with a young daughter struggling to navigate the difficulties of marriage. The real estate agent wife meets a fire cracker client who encourages her to take the problems to the Lord in prayer instead of complaining.  You follow the journey of the wife as she resists and then establishes a War Room for prayer in her clothes closet.  In the end, the Lord honours her humility and dedication by bringing the family accountability and restoration.

Kendrick Brothers produced the movie, the same filmmakers who brought us Courageous and Fireproof.  Although more drama than action, the movie causes us to think and encourages a response. Will we sit and complain when things get difficult or will we get on our knees in prayer and call upon the Lord?

I ask myself the question. Matt has worked for the same company for over thirty years, until yesterday. Yesterday he showed up for work and promptly joined the ranks of the unemployed. So what does the lack of income mean for our family? I don’t know. And where will we be in three months, six months, or a year from now? I don’t know that either.

But I do know, “The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.” (Psalm 145:8 NIV)  My closet isn’t big enough to make into a War Room. I would suffocate amongst the skirts and shoes. A prayer wall in my master bath? That might work.   

What do you think?

The Cost of Disobedience

Marriage relationships are under attack, but marriage relationships have always been under attack. Why not try and destroy the basic building block of society which nourishes, protects, and prepares the next generation …

 

Chilly rain drizzled on their backs and soaked through layers of clothing. Their limbs trembled as they sat on the paving stones in the square. Children clustered around their mother’s feet, some quiet - some crying. Why all the whispers, the uneasiness, as their fathers stepped forward to receive the priest’s decision?

According to Ezra chapter ten, after the decision was made, it took three months to dissolve all the marriages of God’s chosen, Israel, to their foreign wives. Three months of undoing families and rendering fatherless a multitude of children who did not make the choice to disobey.

Their father’s knew better. They were commanded by God not to intermarry, yet they chose to do so. And because of their decision, many innocent women and children suffered the loss of a home and a family.

The roots of any sin run deep and cause unnecessary suffering. People we love suffer and those who have not made the choice to sin suffer. May we, even in our day, remember the Lord’s commandments and show our love to Him and the next generation by obeying them.

“I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.” Psalm 119:11 ESV