One More Meme for the Road

Sorry about this, folks but I got tagged again. So here's more info about me that you probably didn't care to know.

1. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My father told me I was named for Jenny Lind because one of his favorite memories was hearing his grandfather tell of meeting her.
2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?
Yesterday.
3. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING
Usually—I can do calligraphy
4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Budding chicken
5. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?
Yes—4
6. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
I think so, usually, most of the time, maybe.
7. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?
Moi?
8. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?
Yeppers
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?
Not even on a dare—and I don’t care how much money you offer.
10. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?
Hot—Cream of Wheat/Cold—granola
11. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?
Nah, too tired...
12. DO YOU THINK YOU ARE STRONG?
Not hardly
13. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM?
Extreme Moose Tracks—can’t remember the brand name
14. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?
The smile
15. RED OR PINK?
Depends on the reason for the roses
16. WHAT IS THE LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF?
Emotionally: I cry when I get angry—can’t help it and it makes me angrier—a vicious cycle
Physically: My weight—I have only myself to blame but I wish it would come off easier now that I’m working at it
17. WHO DO YOU MISS THE MOST?
My Ian
18. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO LINK THIS BACK TO YOU?
If they want—no pressure
19. WHAT COLOR PANTS (Or Kilt) AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue jeans—I put off doing this until after I got out of my jammies
20. WHAT WAS The LAST THING YOU ATE?
Half of a turkey sandwich
21. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?
The hum of my computer
22. IF YOU WHERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE?
Heliotrope (just because I like the word)
23. FAVORITE SMELLS?
Roses, lilacs and lavender—oh, and fresh fruit
24. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
My middle daughter Alyssa
25. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON WHO LINKED THIS TO YOU?
He’s okay for a guy who writes scary stuff
26. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?
Depends on who’s playing and if I can watch in person or on TV
27. HAIR COLOR?
Dk—it’s hidden by medium ash brown
28. EYE COLOR?
They’re technically a pale blue-green but can look gray or blue or green or any combination depending on my mood and what I wear—I know, TMI
29. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?
Used to
30. FAVORITE FOOD(S)?
Generally Italian or Mexican foods
31. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?
Happy endings most definitely
32. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED?
A Piece of Eden
33. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?
Blue—a shirt from the 309th Fighter Squadron stationed at Luke AFB—Go Wild Ducks!
34. SUMMER OR WINTER?
I live in Arizona—Winter, duh!
35. HUGS OR KISSES?
Hugs are more universal, kisses are reserved
36. FAVORITE DESSERT?
Too many to name
37. MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?
DK
38. LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND
I’ve no idea
39. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING NOW?
Getting ready to start The Mermaid Chair
40. WHAT IS ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?
A picture of a Coyotes hockey game
41. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON T.V. LAST NIGHT?
An interview with Billy Graham and the living presidents he’s counseled
42. FAVORITE SOUND?
Children’s laughter
43. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?
Beatles. Of course—none of them would have snorted a parent.
44. WHAT IS THE FARTHEST YOU HAVE BEEN FROM HOME?
Belfast, Northern Ireland—or Heathrow, England—I’d have to check a map for mileage
45. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT?
I can tie cherry stems into knots with my tongue
46. WHERE WERE YOU BORN?
Kokomo
47. WHOSE ANSWERS ARE YOU LOOKING FORWARD TO GETTING BACK?
I’m tagging Cynthia Hickey and my Phil.
.

Going to send you all over to the Misfits blog today. My friend and awesome writer Mary DeMuth is our guest blogger for Saturday and I think you will enjoy what she has to say. This is part of her blog tour for her latest non-fiction book Authentic Parenting. You can meet Mary and read her crazy blog here. The book we've been discussing, Authentic Parenting in a Post-Modern Culture, by Mary DeMuth is available now. You can purchase your autographed copy directly from Mary at the link above. I encourage you pick it up today!

Be sure to check out the other blogs participating on the Authentic Parenting Tour this week.
Actual Unretouched Photo
Bluebonnet in the Snow
child of divorce/child of god
Geaux2Girl
Good Word Editing
Halland
RappFamilyAixtremeLife
Ripples and Reflections
Spaghettipie
So Many Books...So Little Time
The Point
Tiffany Colter
Toni V. Lee

For a complete listing of the blogs participating in the six week tour, visit here.

But, most important, go to the Misfits blog and read what she has there. You'll be glad you did.

For Moms

Got this in an email and must share. Hope you enjoy as much as I do. Wish I'd had this when my kids were young--but wait, I did--I just hadn't set it to music yet.
Abundant blessings!

To All the Dogs I've Loved Before

I'm a dog lover. Okay, so I like cats, too, but, for their own safety, I do not own any while I live in the same house with my husband. (Don't boo and hiss--he has to have at least one flaw!)
Anyway, a few years ago I was on the couch, supposedly working on a Bible study, when our pug jumped up on the couch (where he knew he wasn't allowed) and cuddled up in my lap. Our Puglsey was a rescue dog who still bore the scars from someone trying to burn him. But he was the sweetest, cuddliest dog we'd ever owned and it got me to thinking. When I curl up in my Abba's lap and cuddle, does He see my scars? Does He stroke my head like I did Pugsley's that day?
Since then I've looked differently at my canine friends and I've received a few life lessons in the process.
Jack could just tell when I was sad and liked to rest next to me.
K.D. was sure she she was human.
Daisy's curiousity has gotten her (and me) into some fixes.
Mack had to be taught how to play.
Shelby could look at anther dog and see what it needed--usually a fun romp.
Vern E. Lou is sure she's a princess.
Chandler had to learn that the freedom of a walk was better on a leash.
Howie knew when to bury the bones and the best time to dig them up and deal with them.
Chuck knew how to welcome company with a smile.
Molly prefered no pictures but never let a little thing like a missing leg slow her down.
Sonny kept watch over the house on his nightly patrols.
Muncher stood guard over my baby brother's crib.
Brutus only looked scary but was loveable.

I wish I had pictures of them all. Not all belong to my family. All have a place in my heart for their loving presence. Some have passed away and some are still with us. All made an impression. So, since I have so much time on my hands (not) here's a little tribute to one of God's best creations.



Abundant blessings!

MeMe - Because I Promised

Good buddy and fellow Misfit Heather Goodman tagged me (and the rest of the Misfits) with this meme and since I haven't done one in a while, I agreed (since I haven't had much to write about until after I agreed). So, without further anything, here's what the world's been waiting for--the answers to all those age-old meme questions:


1. What's the one book or writing project you haven't yet written but still hope to?

I want to write about my great grandmother. I remember sitting in Aunt Bessie's house and hearing the stories of what it was like growing up and what her parents were like. Much was in hushed tones and I don't think the adults thought I was listening. But that's where I learned what "pondering in your heart" meant. Someday I hope to put those ponderings in a book.

2. If you had one entire day in which to do nothing but read, what book would you start with?

There's way too many to choose--I'm a slow reader and want to read too many. Hmmmmmm. I think I would start with To Kill A Mockingbird simply because I'm finally old enough to really appreciate it now (yes, before you gasp, I've already read it once).

3. What was your first writing "instrument" (besides pen and paper)?
My mother's typewriter--big bulky thing in a black case. Not electric but fun to push the keys down and watch the letters form on the white paper above.


4. What's your best guess as to how many books you read in a month?

I'm not fast at this so maybe 3 (depending on whether I'm teaching or on Summer Break).


5. What's your favorite writing "machine" you've ever owned? My PC. I love it and feel comfortable at the keyboard. I can rush the words from my fingers or tap my nails on the keys waiting for my next idea. It is tempermental sometimes but I do love it.

6. Think historical fiction: what's your favorite time period in which to read? (And if you don't read historical fiction--shame on you.)

I have to agree with Heather. I enjoy Jane Austen and I love things from the Colonial Period. Civil War time is good reading and Oh! love to read about the Roaring Twenties. Turn of the 20th Century (give or take 20 years in either direction) is good. Ok, I confess, I just plain ol' love reading historicals.

7. What's the one book you remember most clearly from your youth (childhood or teens)?
I read all of the Janet Lambert books I could get my hands on. There were several in her series that I loved and I remember the plots even today but one of them hit me hard--she killed off a beloved character and I sat and cried. Her characters were ones I talked about with my friends as if they were a part of our crowd. They were so real (not in a psychotic way--get back with those white jackets). Wish I could remember the title. I collected a few over the years now but haven't found that one.

Not gonna tag anyone--everyone's been tagged!

So, th-th-th-that's all folks!

Abundant blessings!

Catching Up

This will be short though the news is big. Here are 2 links for you to check out.

First, my friend and fellow Misfit, Mike Snyder, has a great announcement on his blog. You can check it out here. I am so excited for him and hope you will check it out--this is big!

Second, a few of my writing friends and I began a rather special critique group a while back. I can honestly say that the story I'm currently working on is probably one of the best things I've ever written and it is because of the encouragement and feedback I've gotten from these friends. Well, now you can meet them and see for yourself. We've started a blog, The Misfits. We began with our Misfit Manifesto on Independence Day and have been posting ever since (I know, I'm slow). Anyway, check out the new blog and the Misfits individual blogs as well. Good stuff.

Have a great weekend full of abundant blessings!

Interview with Trish Perry

I recently had the pleasure of reading a new book, Too Good to Be True. Author Trish Perry is an award winning writer and editor of Ink and the Spirit, a quarterly newsletter of the Capital Christian Writers organization in the Washington DC, area. She has published numerous short stories, essays, devotionals and poetry in Christian and general market media, and she is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers group. Trish has graciously agreed to be interviewed and so without further ado, I want to welcome Trish Perry to Abundant Blessings.

TP: Thanks for featuring me, Jenny!

JC: Trish, let’s get the preliminaries out of the way. First, how long have you been writing? And we all want to know about when it became professional—tell us all about getting The Call.

TP: I’ve been writing seriously for about 12 years. I dabbled here and there before that, but I felt the I-Have-To-Write bug about 12 years ago. I got The Call about my first book contract back in October 2005. My agent was talking with a few houses about Too Good to Be True while I worked on the follow-up, The Guy I’m Not Dating. Harvest House decided they wanted both books, with one condition. They wanted the events of The Guy to happen first, followed by Too Good. Was I willing to switch the books’ sequences and order of release, they wondered? Were they kidding? I would have switched anything about the books—made them about polar bears setting up house in Manhattan—as long as Harvest House was willing to give me a try!



JC: What is a typical writing day like for you? Have you been able to make writing a full-time career?

TP: It’s definitely my full-time career now, although I can’t honestly say I’m self-disciplined enough to keep my boss (and that would be me) totally happy. There’s something to be said for clocking in at an office, with clipboard-toting ogres standing watch over you, allowing you a mere ten-minute coffee break once in awhile.

But when I’m under deadline, I can be very disciplined. I drop everything else and dive so deeply into my fictional world that the people in my real world give up on me. They make their own lunches, do their own laundry, talk amongst themselves as if I’ve passed on. During these periods, my typical writing day gets into full swing as soon as everyone else is out of the house. Then it’s just me, my computer, and all my little imaginary friends. I break for a quick lunch—usually reading something fun, but if pressed, editing instead. And I break for dinner (there exists an exponential relationship between how much time before deadline and how much Chinese carryout we eat). I’ll either call it quits for the day at that point or, if I feel I need to get more writing done that day, I’ll have at it again after dinner.

JC: So Too Good to Be True turned out to be your follow-up to The Guy I’m Not Dating—both being chick lits from Harvest House. What made you try writing chick lit?

TP: I had slowly worked on a more serious, spiritual-warfare novel for a few years before I started the lighter storylines. My SW novel involved creepy stuff and considerable research about Eastern religions and the Civil War. I had such a hankering for comedy by the time I was done. The romance factor just fit within the comedy story the Lord gave me, once I started considering it. Too Good to Be True was actually the first of the two books, as I mentioned above. I didn’t really think of it as chick lit—I simply wanted to write romantic comedy. But my heroine had a chick lit sense of humor, so that’s the direction I went. I’ve always enjoyed a wide variety of novel genres, and I’d like to publish in other genres eventually. But I do love a good laugh.

JC: I noticed when reading Too Good to Be True, you kept it is 3rd person POV rather than the traditional 1st person POV of most chick lit. Was that your call or your publishers? Can you share the reasoning?

TP: Originally, I wrote Too Good to Be True in first person, which, as you say, is traditional for chick lit. Loved writing in first person! But when I wrote The Guy I’m Not Dating, there were some scenes I wanted to include which couldn’t include my heroine. So I wrote The Guy in third person. Harvest House published The Guy first, and it wasn’t until about a month before Too Good was due to the printers that my editor noticed I had written Too Good in first person. Since the books were unofficially a series, and the first one was in third person and already out there, my editor asked me to rewrite Too Good in third person. (There’s a word to the wise, if the wise are writing a series—write all of the books in the same POV!)

So that was quite an interesting little adventure! The funny result from the experience is that some people read the books and remember them as having been told in first person, even though they’re in third. I suppose the flavor of first person remains, to some extent.


JC: What is on the writing horizon for you? Will you be following a new romance with one of the characters in Too Good to Be True?

TP: Actually, I started to write that story—a third in the series, featuring two of the characters my readers have already met in the first two books. I hope to be able to do that soon. But Harvest House asked me to start working on something else first. It’s another chick lit idea, but with an entirely different set of characters and situations. We haven’t discussed whether it will be a stand-alone or a series—we’re very early on in the discussion stage.

And then I’ve been asked to flesh out a five-book series idea, which another house has expressed some interest in. I’m not even beyond a simple paragraph-per-book point with that project yet.

Finally, I’ve been asked by a third publisher to put together some ideas for a novel for the 16-23 year old reading audience.

So there are many possibilities in the future!

JC: What has been the biggest blessing you’ve discovered in writing?

TP: I never expected to get such wonderful reader feedback, especially from readers in the college-aged range. I think that happened because of the subject matter of The Guy I’m Not Dating. Every positive comment is a fantastic blessing, but when a writer learns that her efforts helped a reader feel closer to the Lord, or more at peace about her situation in life, the blessing goes beyond mere kudos. You feel so certain that this is how the Lord wants you to serve Him!

JC: What advice do you have for someone trying to break into the chick lit market?

TP: To begin with, I’d say read as much chick lit as you can. Obviously, writers need to be voracious readers, regardless of what genre they choose. But there’s nothing like immersing yourself in your chosen genre to trigger your best capabilities and ideas. Learn the craft through books, magazines, and courses. Enter reputable contests, mainly to achieve exposure of your work to editors and agents. Attend conferences and writers’ meetings whenever you can. Shrug off rejection, listen to constructive criticism (all writers should have critique partners). And if you want to break into chick lit or any other genre, you need to submit submit submit! Pray like crazy, and listen for God’s guidance. One thing He gave me about a year ago, and which I often repeat, is that He will never use discouragement to lead you away from writing. If He wants you doing something else, He’ll draw you to something else. I would caution writers against deciding God doesn’t want them writing, simply because they haven’t sold yet. If He blesses you with joy when you write, you need to hang in there.

JC: Any special thoughts you’d like to share with the readers?

TP: I mentioned praying, above. I’d like to reiterate the importance of sitting down in total silence for a short time each morning, before starting your day. I must admit I don’t remember to do this every day. Heaven only knows why I ever forget. When I set aside just ten minutes each morning to shut up and simply sit before Him, waiting for anything He might want to tell me, He blesses me in amazing ways. I might not realize it during those ten minutes, but the ideas He gives me and the ways He guides my steps . . . just phenomenal.

JC: Please let our readers know where/how to get a copy of Too Good to Be True.

TP: The book is available at all of the online bookstores, like Amazon and Christianbook and any actual bookstore can order copies, if they don’t already have them on the shelf. Sometimes people get a kick out of signed copies, and that’s possible through SignedByTheAuthor.


JC: Thanks again for stopping by Trish. And to everyone, Abundant Blessings!

Then and Now

I know it’s been a while—a dear friend recently pointed that out (hi, Lori). I’ve had too much to share and too little time or inspiration on how. But I think I’m ready. First, I want to thank my mom for her hard work and sacrifice that allowed me to go to college. Without that, I never would have been a part of a wonderful reunion that was too long in the making. So, Mom, thank you. I love you. And happy Mothers' Day.

Also, this reunion wouldn’t have come together without some very key people—first and foremost, my old friend and self-adopted brother, Rev Curt. Without your stage managing expertise, this just wouldn’t have happened. Old friend Ricky Grove put together an amazing DVD of old times and faces—great job Rick. Robbie and Ed who helped with the logistics end of things, gathering memories from NAU, you made some wonderful finds. And the folks at NAU—Erin in particular—you all did a great job.

I’ve put together a short video to give you a glimpse of the then and now of our reunion. Consider it a slice—I wasn’t able to include everything I wanted (due to lack of resources, time allotted and talent). This is only a sample of the memories in my heart. I love you all so much and really hope we can do this again.

On a side note, was anyone else impacted by the number of guys in our group named Richard? Not that I’m complaining—I have two brothers (long story), a father and a father-in-law with the same name. Plus, both my husband and son have Richard as their middle name. So, maybe it’s just me. Let’s just say I’m fond of Richards (and Phils).

Love to all, enjoy the video, and as always,

Abundant blessings!

How Does Your Kissing Rate?

Kissing—a fun activity, to be sure. People talk about it, write about it, sometimes tell-all about it. It’s a great topic. And it’s kind of important. For example, I read a Susie May Warren book a while back where the heroine was dating this movie star-pretty guy, with an accent no less. The romantic tension built and you knew that wonderful moment of first-kissiness was fast approaching and then, he kissed like a fish and slobbered all over her face. Trust me, it did nothing for the romantic mood--hers nor mine.

But did you know that the Bible has something to say about kissing? And no, I’m not talking about that favorite verse of teenage boys everywhere--the instruction to greet one another with a holy kiss. Rather, I’m referring to a section from the Book of Ephesians in chapter four. Now, before you think I’m amazingly insightful, I need to mention I am stealing this (with permission) from my friend, the guy who is filling in as our pastor for the time being, Robin Wood.

I’m learning Robin has a knack for discovering amazing nuggets in Scripture and what he shared today is no exception. The Scripture he used was Ephesians 4:29 – 5:1. That first verse has been important to me, something I’ve tried to live by (notice the “try”—don’t always succeed, but I continue to work on it). However, I’d never thought this was a guide to being a good kisser. Here’s how Robin said God laid it out for him.



ind. This Scripture tells us to be kind. Am I being kind in my thoughts and actions when I kiss my spouse? On the surface that seems easy enough but I really had to ponder that. Do I let my mind wander from my focus on him and his likes and needs?



ntimate. We’re told not to grieve the Holy Spirit of God. Robin pointed out that how we are with our spouses, how we treat them, can grieve the Holy Spirit—if we shut them out and do not lay ourselves transparently before them, we are not intimate with them.



elf-esteem. This one hit home to me. We’re not who everyone says we are, we’re not who we say we are. We are who God says we are. But truth be told, we glean most of our self esteem from the person who has the most significance to us. We see our reflection in his/her eyes. Do I let my respect and love for my husband show strong enough that he knows it and lives in it? We need to be mirrors for each other that reflect an image of how God sees us, building each other up and removing bitterness and words, said even in jest, that tear down those we love the most.



ecurity. In offering forgiveness, just like God has forgiven each of us, we offer a haven of security. We know that even when we mess up, there is love and forgiveness and not malice and retribution to bind us together in love.

So I ask again, how does your kissing rate? Don’t know about you, but I think I need more practice. Now where did Phil go?

Abundant blessings!

Tricia Goyer's Story Behind the Story

I was privileged to read an advance copy of Tricia Goyer’s A Valley of Betrayal. I won’t go into the review here but if you want to see what I think, click here.

In the meantime, I thought I’d share Tricia’s own words about this amazing time in history—yep, you know I love that stuff. There are time periods where I feel pretty comfortable with my knowledge and there are time periods where I don’t know anything. This is one time period where I’ve a lot to learn. Maybe you do, too. So, I’ll let Tricia’s words whet your appetite and perhaps you’ll want to learn more.

Abundant blessings!




The Story Behind the Novel:

A few years ago when I was researching for my fourth World War II novel, Arms of Deliverance, I came across a unique autobiography. One B-17 crewmember I read about claimed to make it out of German-occupied Belgium after a plane crash due, in part, to his skills he picked up as a veteran of The Spanish Civil War. Reading that bit of information, I had to scratch my head. First of all, I had never heard of the war. And second, what was an American doing fighting in Spain in the late 1930s? Before I knew it, I uncovered a fascinating time in history—one that I soon discovered many people know little about. This is what I learned:
Nazi tanks rolled across the hillsides and German bombers roared overhead, dropping bombs on helpless citizens. Italian troops fought alongside the Germans, and their opponents attempted to stand strong—Americans, British, Irishmen, and others—in unison with other volunteers from many countries. And their battleground? The beautiful Spanish countryside.
From July 17, 1936-April 1, 1939, well before America was involved in World War II, another battle was fought on the hillsides of Spain. On one side were the Spanish Republicans, joined by the Soviet Union and The International Brigade—men and women from all over the world who have volunteered to fight Fascism. Opposing them, Franco and his Fascist military leaders, supported with troops, machinery, and weapons from Hitler and Mussolini. The Spanish Civil War, considered the “training ground” for the war to come, boasted of thousands of American volunteers who joined to fight on the Republican side, half of which never returned home.
Unlike World War II, there is no clear line between white and black, good and evil. Both sides committed atrocities. Both sides had deep convictions they felt worth fighting and dying for.
Loyalists—also know as the Republicans were aided by the Soviet Union, the Communist movement, and the International Brigades. If not for the weapons and volunteers from these sources their fight would have ended in weeks rather than years. While many men fought side by side, their political views included that of liberal democracy, communism and socialism. The Catholic Basque Country also sided with the Republic, mainly because it sought independence from the central government and was promised this by Republican leaders in Madrid.
Nationalists—or Francoists were aided mainly by Germany and Italy. The Nationalist opposed an independent Basque state. Their main supporters were those who believed in a monarchist state and fascist interests. The Nationalist wished for Spain to continue on as it had for years, with rich landowners, the military, and the church running the country. Most of the Roman Catholic clergy supported the Nationalists, except those in the Basque region.
During the Spanish Civil war, terror tactics against civilians were common. And while history books discuss the estimated one million people who lost their lives during the conflict, we must not forget that each of those who fought, who died, had their own tales. From visitors to Spain who found themselves caught in the conflict, to the communist supporters, Basque priests, and Nazi airmen . . . each saw this war in a different light. These are the stories behind A Valley of Betrayal.
Tricia Goyer

Never Can Say Goodbye

It started Sunday morning in the shower. Only a week early but my tears didn’t want to stop when I turned off the faucet. Phil asked if I was practicing. I told him no, just thinking too much.

And I guess that’s what it is, still thinking too much about the last few days with my pastor, Steve Chiles. He has been senior pastor at North Hills Church for over eleven years now. A lot has happened in those eleven years and I’ve got that Clifton Davis song humming in my head over it.

Steve’s done his best to make this transition as smooth as possible but the truth is, it is still change.

And I hate change.

I loathe change.

Change is right up there with vomiting in my book. Upheaval, upchuck—they both have the same prefix. Kind of like living in the same area code of misery.

However, how does one argue with God and still move forward? So I surrender. Uncle. Let’s get this hard part done—that part where I quit fighting and do what He always knew I’d do when I came to my senses. I love my pastor. He has asked that I love the new pastor. I can do that, I can. I can do that because I love my Abba and this is what He asks of me. I can do this because my friend asks this and it will help him to focus on God’s leading if he doesn’t have to worry about how his church takes this new, gulp, change. I can do this.

But don’t ask me to say goodbye. That I cannot do.

Love ya, Steve. This video is for you.

Abundant blessings!

Here's the Answer

I thought I put something up that was too easy but I'm guessing it was the Internet that made it harder to see. No correct answers so I get the chocolate-Ha!

Last fall when Phil and I went to New York, most of the tourist type places were closed--Ticonderoga, Saratoga, Fort William Henry--but one place we could still get into inspite of the season. Fort Crown Point. I've included some of the other pictures from there for you. The "what is it?" picture is actually bedrock there where a couple centuries of water and snow and ice have come and gone leaving that design on the ground. I would have accepted rock or stone and probably should just give Jen the benefit of the doubt here since she came closest. So, Jen, I'll send you some chocolate. Thanks to everyone who left a comment and to my mom (whose birthday is really today and not tomorrow--I lost a day somewhere!) Happy Birthday, Mom! I love you!
Abundant blessings!

What Is It Saturday

Taking my cue from Brandilyn Collins, Michelle Pendergast, and Kristy Dykes I am putting up a “What is it?” photo. I’ve got chocolate for the first person to come up with a correct answer. Good luck and have fun!
Abundant blessings!

My Love Laughs With Me

I’ve been spoiled by our Sunday school class. Or rather, I’m spoiled by the makers of coffee and bringers of donuts for our Sunday school class. This morning as I went to hug the coffee guardian, feeling oh so blessed. He nearly spilled a cup of the precious brew and he reminded me of the danger.

“Danger,” I scoffed, “I live for danger.”

My friend Linda snickered. “That’s why you’re married to Phil!”

“Yep, I’m headed for sainthood.”

Truth is they have no idea. Like last night. Phil took me to the Valentine Soirée sponsored by the Men’s and Women’s ministries at our church. This year it was held off campus at a hotel. Very elegant. There was also a silent auction with the proceeds going to help defray costs for the youth ministry trip to Jamaica this summer. Phil hopped up to see what was there. I didn’t think anything about it. However, with his second trip back to the auction table, I suspected he had his eye on something.

Our friend Barb winked. “What are you bidding on, Phil?”

“A new wife.”

Barb gasped.

“You better win.,” I told him. Phil enjoys ornery way too much.

He did win, only not a new wife—a grateful wife, but not a new one. He’d been bidding on a dozen roses and presented them to me at the end of the evening. The man is good. Ornery, but good. And he knows me oh so well.



So I want to take a minute to let him know I love him—and the beauty of it is, he’s really a shy, behind-the-scenes kind of guy who just happens to have a sharp wit and sensitive streak.

He’s not the only ornery one.


My love laughs with me.
Not at me or about me.
My love laughs with me
And we share a moment between just us two.
Rivulets of joy stream from his eyes.
I enjoy him so much I forget what began
this laughter together.
My love laughs with me
Moments over days bound by years into decades
Our laughter warms us, heals us, binds us,
makes us one for one more moment.
My love laughs with me
and I hear the music of our love.


Happy Valentine’s Day, Phil. I love you.

Abundant blessings,
Jenny

Come See What I'm Doing

I'm taking the easy way out again, sort of, but you'll understand why. Just hope you will forgive me.
I'm filling in for Cindy Thomson over at PASTtimes blog (so really it's not "easy" but just not a lot posted here). If you really miss me, you can find me there this week.
Abundant blessings!
Jenny

The Truth

One of my favorite authors (or actually author duos) has a blog and I just learned of it. At Bodie's suggestion I visited the Thoene's blog to read her latest post on Truth. Her elequence is beyond me and her solid knowledge of Hebrew and the Gospel back up every word. I cannot say it any better so I am offering this link to the post. All I can add is Amen.

Abundant blessings!

'Tis the Season

A friend made a statement today that spoke to my heart for this time of year. I hope it will speak to you as well. My friend, Arlene, explained to our Sunday school class that the quip is incorrect—it is not the season to be jolly. It is the season to be holy.

I’ve mulled that thought over since we left church and the truth of Arlene’s wisdom shines over competing thoughts and feelings, putting things into perspective for me. This season is filled with anything but jolliness for so many. Suicide is at its peak near the holidays. Loneliness, depression, and helplessness all run rampant.

Our family has experienced three deaths in the last month and a half. Even before that it has been a bittersweet time for us for over seven years—this will be the eighth Christmas without our Ian.

Yet, you hear it on every radio station—‘tis the season to be jolly.

Ever want to fa-la-la the bejeebers out of someone?

I’ll admit I question why I can’t seem to get into the holiday spirit like I did when the kids were little. But I’ve seen a lot since then and have wondered about a lot more things—things like do the kids who receive the Angel Tree gifts really feel a familial connection to their incarcerated parent or maybe do a few just want to forget about the person who used to rage and terrorize and abuse them? Maybe they are feeling lucky the parent was arrested for something else just to get them out of the house? Nonetheless, that doesn't keep me from volunteering--just in case.

However,when one must spend an hour haunting the lanes in the parking lot for a spot so one can spend money one really can’t afford to spend on a gift that will be consumed, broken or unappreciated just so one doesn’t forget to give something to someone whose approval one seeks but will never receive, it tends to take the jolly out of things. (There are some who will be more concerned about the absurdity of that sentence than the truth of its message).

Then Arlene’s statement comes back to me. ‘Tis the season to be holy. What does that look like, sound like, taste like, smell like? What does that feel like?

To me, it’s the red pot outside the store that reminds me my little bit together with others’ little bits can make a big difference. It’s the sound of someone sharing my tears as I remember a missed loved one. It’s the sweetness of acceptance. It’s a newborn baby in a dark, dank cave of a barn, lying in a manger of straw who is beginning the arduous journey to the cross of our salvation—God putting on flesh to enter our world through a womb and exit through a tomb. He didn’t come to make us jolly. He came to make us holy, to bring us peace in the midst of all that confuses, to bring us hope to sustain us, to bring us love to share with the least of these.

He came. We must remember.

‘Tis the season.

The Good Samaritan—Cary Version

There’s this in-ground pool in our back yard. It contains no water but once upon a time it did and many fun memories still fill it. One day we will most likely have it filled in but, as of now, the money is not there. So it remains a gaping hole outside our back door.

Last Friday night, I came home after having my fabulous nails redone. Phil was at church so I came home to a semi-dark house and dogs in the backyard. Or at least there should have been dogs in the backyard. Mack was chained up but Daisy, who has never tried to hop the fence, was nowhere to be found. I called and called. No bark. Finally, I flipped on the outside lights and there she was in the bottom of the pool, very happy to see me. She still didn’t bark, though, but she panted hard. I imagine she got down there soon after Phil left and, having been trying to get out for sometime, she was too tired to bark.

In one of her other recent escapades, Daisy’s collar was ruined and I’ve yet to replace it so I had nothing to hook onto to pull her out. I looked around for the pool skimmer or other possible tools, but found nothing. Finally, out of ideas, I went down into the shallow end and sat at the edge of the ramp that ran to the deep end. I thought if I could coax her a little closer with some treats and I might then pull her up.

Instead, I slid down.

Did I mention this was a full-sized in-ground pool with a nine foot deep end?

At the expense of sounding clichéd, I tried repeatedly to scale the slippery slope to no avail. Then I figured, maybe if I took my shoes and socks off I could get better traction. Wrong again. Now I’m stuck in this hole with my shoes off, at night, in below normal temps for Phoenix (hey, it was cold!) and had no cell phone, no one else at home, and no means or ideas for escape. Phil wasn’t due home for more than an hour. Panic set in.




So what’s a girl to do? Well, this girl prayed. And prayed. You remember the verse about praying without ceasing? I didn’t cease. However, the only answer I seemed to hear was to call out for help. I did. Loudly. Often. Still nothing.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, I heard a voice. “You need help?”

“Yes, please! I’m stuck in my pool and can’t get out!” It was a new twist on an old line but it was also true and I wasn’t thinking about how my dialogue would sound for posterity—I’ll work on it for the book version. “You'll have to jump the fence.” The back yard is surrounded by a six-foot block wall.

“Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

It was one of the longest minutes of my life.

Finally I heard him again. He’d brought reinforcements. Soon I could see him and his friend. They were concerned thinking I’d fallen in but before I could explain, they were coming to my rescue—right down that slippery slope.

Then they needed rescuing. Yep, they both slipped and were down at the deep end with me. Fortunately, they were taller than I am (most twelve year olds are). One of the men grabbed hold of the built in love seat and pulled himself up. Then he held out a stick for his friend who tucked my arm securely under his—my other hand wrapped around his bicep. Slowly, I slipped and slid to the top.

I was out, but that still left Daisy in the pool. She had shied away from the guys when they first joined us and I was becoming more concerned for her.

“Do you have a sheet?” one of the guys asked.

I ran into the house, grabbed one and hustled back. “Here.”

He shook it out and tossed an end to his buddy who was back in the pool with Daisy. The buddy coaxed her onto the sheet and together they got her up. They used the sheet to get the other guy out and then the shaking started. I shook from head to toe, even when I walked them to the front door (didn’t want my rescuers to have to jump the fence again). I remembered to thank them over and over and to ask their names—none of which stuck with me.

And then they were gone.

When I finally calmed, I knew I needed to thank them better than just parroting “thank you thank you thank you.” So I bought a card and some cookies (you don’t want to eat my baking) and began my search for my rescuers. Now, Phil and I know the neighbors around us but over the back fence and on the next street, not so much. After two unproductive trips, my husband finally suggested the house. The one where the police show up every so often. The one where neighborhood gossip has them doing all sorts of illegal things. That house.

Well, I hadn’t tried that house so I decided I might as well. Bingo!

The thing is these are the only people who heard my cry for help and answered. I saw lights go on in other houses as I called but no one inquired or risked getting involved. Plus these guys didn’t just live on the other side of the alley. They lived across the street in back of my house so my voice apparently carried. I don’t know why the police show up at their house occasionally though I could guess right along with my neighbors—the ones who didn’t answer my cries. Or I can thank these men and speak blessings over them and share the love of God through my actions. God certainly blessed me by drawing them toward my need. It makes me wonder if the Good Samaritan felt he was repaying a debt to someone who had helped him once. I don’t know, but I am thankful and pray somehow they do see God’s love in our meeting. I sure do.

Abundant blessings!

Salute

In honor of Veteran’s Day, I want to share with you about a certain vet, Richard C. Cary (yep, we’re related). To most, he went by Dick but to me, he was Dad Cary.

Over the years I’ve heard many stories (some I can’t repeat here) but my favorite one comes from his time in the army during WWII. Dad was assigned to Patton’s third army. Just out of high school, he was trained at Fort Dix before being sent to the European Theater. He celebrated his nineteenth birthday by getting his helmet creased by a Nazi bullet during the Battle of the Bulge.

If you remember your history, you’ll know that General Patton promised that his troops would move quicker and farther than even General Eisenhower thought they could. The truth of it is, that army moved farther and faster than even General Patton thought they could and he showed up to tell them so. With the men in Dad’s unit all lined up to see the general, Patton thanked them for a job well done and asked what he could do for them. Dad looked at his buddies all keeping quiet and just couldn’t stand it.

“We could use a hot meal, Sir.”

The general said he'd see what he could do. You can imagine the elation, especially after living on c-rations for days on end, when trucks bearing hot food rolled into camp the next evening. My sister-in-law recently told me that the general even helped serve the meal.

But the story doesn’t end there.

After the Nazi’s surrendered, someone noted that my father-in-law had taken a typing class in high school and assigned him to the typing pool at headquarters in Berlin. He was given the task of typing out General Patton’s stateside orders. When the general arrived to pick up the papers, he looked hard at Dad.

“We’ve met before.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re that little SOB who wanted a hot meal, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“So, did you get enough to eat?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir”

It wasn’t long after that the general was hurt in that car accident and eventually died, never getting to use the orders Dad typed.

My father-in-law passed away last month. He would have been 81 next month. A lot went on during those nearly 81 years but today, I thank him and all like him who have stood in harm’s way so that we may continue to live as safely and prosperously as we do here in the United States. God has abundantly blessed us because of you.

Abundant blessings, and thank you, Dad.

Just an FYI

I've just posted reviews for two books:
1. The Jade Bracelet by Wilma Walls






2. Marta's Promise by Jeanne Denis and Sheila Seifert







Both books are published by Kregel. Just click on the titles to check them out. I recommend them both.

Abundant blessings!