I DID/ I DO

I’ve fallen in love… at least a million times. Thirty years ago today, I was rushing around, trying to sew up the last-minute details for our wedding. That wasn’t a cliché’-I really was sewing. Family tradition is for the bride to design and sew her gown and I’d gotten ambitious. Satin… chiffon… lace from Israel… It’s a good thing we had a long engagement. I also needed to stitch something else—a very special penny—to my shoe. (Because it wasn’t really a shoe. It was a sandal, and a penny would have fallen out.) One of those machines that flattens out and embosses a penny caught our attention on a date, so Chris and I saved it for The Big Day because it had the Lord’s Prayer on it.

Everything was as planned… and those things were all accomplished. It’s just that life throws surprises at you. I thought we were almost ready, but a bridesmaid showed up without her dress finished. Back to the sewing machine… Then there was a huge downpour the morning of our wedding day. California. Rain? ACK! My hair gets frizzy with humidity—as in Atomic Brillo pad. The Lord took pity on me and stopped the rain. The day was gorgeous—sunny, and with clear air. In California. That’s a miracle in and of itself. At the church, everything was ready. It was a candlelight ceremony—the entire sanctuary was filled with candles. Once Daddy gave me away, Grandpa took over. A minister, he officiated—but in his inimitable style, he made a mistake. He called Chris my brother-in-law’s name. He also guided me to put the wedding band on Chris’s right hand!

So thirty years later, life is still throwing surprises at us. Some have been terrifying storms that only later proved to have silver linings. Other surprises were delights and miracles… like the births of our daughter and son. We've changed. Chris lost his hair. I lost my waistline. It took twenty-six years, but I have my waist back. Chris hasn’t gotten his hair back.

But the truth is, I’ve fallen in love with my husband a million times… when we said our vows, when the wedding night we’d waited and waited and waited for finally came… when we had our first fight and wouldn’t go to bed until it was settled because we promised no to let the sun go down on our anger…. When he held me in labor and then held our baby daughter… and in those heart-stopping moments when our son arrived but wasn’t breathing.. when he set me in front of a computer and told me to become an author…

Though I write romance, the truth is, love and marriage are WORK. They are a daily choice. Am I committed? Will I put my all into this when I don’t want to give anything at all? Will I take offense? Am I going to keep my mouth shut when I have the perfect comeback? What is the priority? Is that where we ought to put our money? Can I get past this heart-stopping ache? Will I ever really get over that twinkle in his eye and anticipate the stunt he’s about to spring? Chris has made the choices day by day. I have too. And I have fallen in love at least a million times. Sometimes it was as easy as breathing. Sometimes falling in love was the hardest thing either of us ever did.

And that penny? We still have it because it is only by God’s grace and love that a marriage can succeed. We chose well... we chose one another and we chose "Savior, Like a Shepherd, Lead Us" to be sung when we took communion at the altar.

Love to you all,

Cathy and Chris

PS. We got married on February 2.

Chris has never forgotten our anniversary.

It's Ground Hog's Day.

I'm In Love

After going to Georgia to do research; I'm in love. Not with Georgia - although it was lovely. Not with the fried food and butter - although I suffered through with some of those tasty treats. It wasn't even with the history...well okay I fell in love with that too, but this is different.

I fell in love with the live oaks.





Named "live" because they are very nearly continuously green, the live oak is the Georgia state tree, and with good reason. Many of these trees have been around long before Georgia was a state, normally living hundreds of years. They are huge trees growing as much as 85 ft. tall and spreading out to make an entire yard-full of shade. Their massive trunks and thick branches are perfect for youthful adventures and romantic swings.They are the hardest of North American woods and was once used in naval ships - including the USS Constitution.

I've seen photos of these trees before, but nothing can do them justice like spending some time walking under them. They gave me a feeling of security--of being protected and hidden in the Father's arms.
I envisioned generations of picnics beneath them, barefooted children skittering up the low branches, couples sharing secret kisses, and perhaps a proposal or two under the Spanish moss draped branches. I found myself wishing these trees could talk and tell me all they'd seen.



Now back home, I find my thoughts going back to those grand Southern belles and fervently wishing someone could develop a breed of live oak that could grow in snowy Montana. Until then...alas...I shall love from afar and fondly remember my walks in those lush groves.
Tracie

P.S. Wish Judy Miller Happy Birthday today! She's 29! Sort of.

Another Fell Swoop

It's kind of funny...I can go for weeks with nothing of major importance happening on the publishing side of my life, and then--SWOOP!--several things happen at once. Such has been the past week.

First of all, I turned in the completed manuscript for my Spring 2011 release. It doesn't have a title yet, but it features a feisty schoolmarm turning the small town of Walnut Hill, Nebraska, on its ear. A little more light-hearted than my usual tales, I hope readers will enjoy Edythe's story.

Second, I completed the edits on my Fall 2010 release, which is the follow-up story to My Heart Remembers. Titled In Every Heartbeat, it jumps forward in time ten years and takes some of the orphans' school graduates to college. It gave me great pleasure to see how the Gallaghers were doing and to see how little Petey grew up.

Third, I received word that the Sommerfeld Trilogy, consisting of Bygones, Beginnings, and Blessings, is going out of print (if you don't have them yet, they have been nicely discounted at http://www.christianbook.com/ --I suggest you grab them while you can!). Admittedly, this news hurt just a bit. I realize there will still be a good number of them hanging out in libraries and people's private collections, and the words will always be between the pages, but it's still hard to say good-bye to the series. I believe they intend to keep the 3-book omnibus in print for a while yet, so at least readers will be able to find the stories in hardcover form, if they're interested.

Fourth, the galleys for my Spring 2010 release arrived, giving me an opportunity to read A Hopeful Heart one more time before it goes to print. I gotta admit, I wiped a few tears as I read the manuscript. That might seem strange, but when you've been away from the characters for a while and have spent time with other characters in the meantime, you kind of forget the faith journey. Such a delight to travel it again.

Fifth, a package arrived from Bethany House containing the German edition of A Promise for Spring! I'd visited with some of the German publishing house representatives last August when hubby and I were in Munich, so it was especially fun to hold the edition they created.

Sixth, I got a sneak peek at the sample cover my Fall 2010 release, and it is absolutely BEE-YOO-Ti-FULL! I wish I could share it with you, but it isn't finalized yet, so I better wait. But I dare you not to gasp in delight when you see it--it is soooo perfect. (Or maybe I'm the only one who gasps in delight at covers... Hmm...)

Last--and both the most exciting and nerve-wracking all at once--the first book in the Katy Lambright Series began showing up where people could actually take it home and read it. Aaaaaaaaaa! Branching into young adult is so different from my other works. In my former life I was a teacher, so on the one hand it's really thrilling to have a book available for younger readers; on the other hand, it's been a looooong time since I was a teenager, and I've kind of lost touch! But even so, it was such fun to bring Katy to life. I grew quite attached to her, and even though I'm a little nervous, I'm also eager to see how younger readers like her. (Oh, please, let her find friends! lol)

*Whew* See why my head is spinning? But y'know, when I look at that list, I see a whole row of blessings. I stand in awe of everything God has brought into my life when He opened the doors of publication to me. All through my growing up years, I dreamed of having a book on a library shelf one day. But look what He's done. He never ceases to amaze me...

Next week I won't be here--I'm going on the K-LOVE Friends and Family cruise with my soul sister Kathy for our second year. (I'm rounding up a wonderful substitute to blog in my place, so please check in and see who's come to visit!) When I return from the cruise, I'll be diving into my next historical project...but I'll tell you more about that at a later date. :o)

Until then...God bless you muchly as you journey with Him! ~Kim

(You can enter a drawing to win a free copy of Katy's New World by going to http://www.katylambrightseries.com/ and clicking on the Fun Stuff page. Good luck!)

Ya'll Come Back!

Tracie and I did some traveling in Georgia this past week and Savannah was one of the stops we made along the way. Now, ya’ll know that folks can’t make a trip to Savannah without partaking of at least one mighty fine, home cooked meal at Lady & Sons. I mean, Paula Deen would never speak to us again, right?? And just for that reason, I wasn’t about to depart the area without a visit. That’s me in front of the store—Tracie did her best to make me look presentable, but it just wasn’t happening. I blame it on those high winds that followed us from Kansas. However, she did a great job capturing the Lady & Sons sign in the picture.

We enjoyed Paula’s famous chicken pot pie for lunch. The picture doesn’t do it justice, partly because we forgot to take the picture until it was half eaten, and partly because there’s just no way you can smell that wondrous creamy sauce or taste that flaky puff pastry on top. We also shared a piece of Paula’s gooey butter cake for dessert. Now that may not look like a very big piece of cake, but I’m here to tell you that there’s enough butter and sugar in that little piece of divine pastry to make your taste buds stand at attention. You’ll notice that we did remember to snap a picture of the cake before we dug in. Being a good daughter, Tracie sent one of these fine cakes to her mother back in Montana. She then called her mom to tell her it was on the way. Unfortunately, Tracie wasn’t exactly sure when it would arrive. I’m sure her mom remained on ‘cake watch’ until the friendly UPS truck arrived with that special treat!

One of the things most of us enjoy when we travel is enjoying some of the yummy food of the region. As I thought about the restaurants we visited and fine food we tasted during our trip, I was reminded that we also need to feast upon the Word of God—a feast that sates all hunger.

O taste and see that the Lord is good. Psalm 34:8

May you find joy as you fill yourself with the Word of Life. ~Judy

From everlasting to everlasting

Pictures are such an inspiration for me when I'm writing. Especially pictures of Colorado, since that's been the setting for my novels to date. Friend and photographer, Delmar Schroeder of Greeley, Colorado is so kind to send me photographs he's taken from all over Colorado––from the mountains to the prairies. And I'd like to share some of them with you today.


But before you click on the video below, here are a few verses from a prayer of Moses, recorded for us in Psalm 90. They came to mind as I gathered these photographs.

"Lord, you have been our dwelling place

throughout all generations.

Before the mountains were born

or you brought forth the earth and the world,

from everlasting to everlasting you are God."

If you have trouble viewing the video here, you may view it on YouTube.

Blessings on your day, and may God inundate you with reminders of His great power. Not only in what He's created, but in what He's creating in you.

Tammy

The Saints who've gone before

As part of my devotions this year, I'm reading The One Year Book of Christian History by E. Michael and Sharon Rusten. Each entry tells about a Christian from the past and what occurred on that day's date in history in relation to that person. Because I love learning about people from the past, this has been a perfect addition to my quiet time.

Last week, one of the entries was about George Gillespie who was born in 1613. He died when he was 36, so his life was short, even for that day and age, but he had a tremendous impact on the Church of Scotland, which was Presbyterian. (Later King Charles I forced the Episcopal government of the Church of England upon the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, and the Parliament, to make a point, removed Gillespie's tombstone and had it publicly broken into pieces.)

However, the paragraph that struck me the most about this great orator and thinker was the story of Gillespie's notebook:

While listening to an opponent and preparing to respond, Gillespie appeared to be taking very detailed notes. After Gillespie presented his persuasive response, men sitting beside him found nothing about the speech in the notebook. Instead, they found in Latin such notes as: "Lord, send light," "Lord, give assistance," and "Lord, defend thine own cause."

Wow, what a great object lesson! I want to be that believer who prays without ceasing, especially if I find myself in a debate or disagreement. Instead of leaning upon my own understanding (which is often quite limited), I want to trust God to give me the right words ... including the willingness to say, if the occasion calls for it, "You know, you're right."

Lord, send light.
Lord, give assistance.
Lord, defend Your own cause.
Amen.

~robin

It's raining

It’s raining, It’s pouring.
The old man is snoring…
He went to bed and he bumped his head,
And he couldn’t get up in the morning.

It is raining. In fact, it isn’t just pouring. We’re having 40 MPH gusts of wind driving sheets of rain sideways. In the midst of it all, yes, my husband went to bed. He’s even been known to snore. But he’d better wake up in the morning. We have too much planned for him to bug out on me!

Admittedly, some of those things won’t be accomplished because it is raining. Have I mentioned the rain? It’s really a big deal. A HUGE deal. After all, this is Southern California. The song is right. It never rains in California—it pours. Man it pours! We’ve had appreciable rainfall every day for four days. Seeing as we’re in the middle of a very prolonged drought, this is more than welcome. We desperately need the rain. We don’t have a clue what to do when it falls, though. Traffic slows to a crawl and yet drivers manage to get to accidents everywhere. We don’t know how to deal with wet roads… and since it’s been so long since it rained, the rain lifts months and months’ worth of oil off the roads. Our roads are slippery, dangerous, and flooded. Accidents abound.

We’re fourteen miles inland, yet we have seagulls flying overhead. Not a dove in sight, but there’s an olive tree down the street. I’d feel a lot better if the animals weren’t lining up two-by-two. I suppose that means we need to add onto that to-do list. Buy arm floaties, a wet vac, and see if there is such a thing as flood insurance in this region. We are sadly ill-equipped for this.

So I wondered if I even had the lyrics of the raining son correct. (For the record, I didn’t. I recalled it “He bumped his head/ on a bunk bed”)

But as is the case in research, I stumbled across something else fun. It’s a very, very old rainy day song, written before the New World began sending peppers of all type back to Europe.

It’s raining, It’s raining.
There’s pepper in the box.
And all the little ladies,
Are holding up their frocks.

It comes from the time when salt and pepper were the most desired seasonings available in Europe. They rated among the most expensive spices, so for there to be pepper in the box, a household was doing well. Is it a wonder, then, that all the women in such a wealthy home would be lifting the hems of their expensive dresses to keep them from getting wet and muddy?

The extremes of nature can make us examine what is important to us. We drive far more carefully because we have the kids in the car. We lay in supplies for tornadoes/hurricanes/earthquakes. Calls to loved ones make sure they’re safe, and we do considerably more praying. It’s not just the hem of a pretty frock we mind. We look out for one another.

The aftermath of Haiti’s earthquake shows we are not invincible. We are all vulnerable to the whims of nature—because as Solomon wrote, “The rain falls on the just and the unjust.” But in the aftermath of an incident where God turned loose Nature’s wrath, it is amazing to see who steps up to help and who retreats.

And in life’s storms, it’s the same challenge. Have we stocked up on memorized Scripture? Have we kept the lines of communications open with God and with those we love? Have we treated the ones we love with tenderness and respect, or do we have regrets? What matters most to us—possessions or people? God or greed? Warm feet or warm hearts?

Winter doesn’t have to be cold and dormant. It can be a time of renewal, revival, and restoration. So let it rain. Let it pour!

Cathy

Some friends of mine

I'm in Georgia on a research trip, but I had to share with you some friends of mine.

We have 3 cats and all are very different and have decidedly different personalities. Jim, my husband, calls them our Rocky Mountain Feline Response Team. He says this is absolutely accurate because we live in the Rocky Mountains - they are felines and they respond to everything that goes on.

This week they have been on drills. Because of the extremely low temperatures and more time spent indoors - the cats have been a little on the crazed side of life. Jim said they were running Operation Arctic Cat.

The black cat is Safari - we think she might be demon possessed as she always has a bad cattitude. I can walk into the room and say "Meow" and she'll respond so I feel like we have a good communication thing going on. Otherwise she doesn't really talk to anyone except to yawl.

The buff tabby is Cal - short for California. No, we didn't name him. He was a "pre-owned" pet rescue cat. He was so laid back and easy-going that the people at the animal shelter said he was like an old Californian hippy. Cal is in charge of the Rocky Mountain Feline Response Team. He's a wise sage of a cat to be sure.

Last but not least is Simon. Now Simon is really our Grandcat - he belonged to our daughter but when she moved to Boston she couldn't have him. So Simon is living with us until his Meowmy can take him again. Simon is a big baby. He's a lovey dovey and I think he thinks I'm Jen, but can't quite figure out why I'm older and fatter. :D

My mother, who never allowed us to have cats in the house when I was a child, has bonded quite nicely to the cats. She even has a personalize tag on her car that says, "Grameow" and officially calls herself their Grandmother.

So there you have the entire team. They asked for us to get them a bunny for Christmas, but we told them no. They promised they would "take care of it" but I didn't like the way Safari grinned when she said it.

I miss them when I'm on the road.
Tracie

I'm 49. Honest.

Well, technically, I'm two days from 49, but I'm already dreading it. No, not because I'm getting older. I truly don't mind aging. (As my mom would say, it beats the alternative!) But because it's such an awkward age.

I didn't like being 29 or 39, either. Because when you say, "I'm 29," people laugh. Everybody claims to be 29, so no one believes you. Then when you say, "I'm 39," people roll their eyes and reply, "Okay, right--what are you, really?" People just automatically assume you're "fudging" when you claim you're something-nine.

But I really am turning 49. Even without the proof staring at me from the calendar, I'd know I was getting older. Things are...well...changing. I've gone from single-vision lenses to bifocals--and I'm supposed to wear my glasses all the time, not just for reading. The skin on my hands doesn't fit right anymore (it needs ironing, I think). Despite frequent visits to the hairdresser, more gray hairs seem to crop up every day. My tear ducts have less control--I'm much more emotional than I used to be. And I don't know if I'll ever adjust to fanning furiously while everyone around me is shivering... Yep, there are certainly signs that I'm getting a titch older.

But you know, despite all the changes, there's one thing that remains unchanged: my relationship with my God. I trusted Him with my heart when I was a little girl of eight, and over the years He has only grown more precious to me. I love this passage from 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."

Some people might question the reality of my age, but I will never question the reality of my Savior's presence. He will be with me no matter how many candles appear on my birthday cake. (And I sure wouldn't want to face the changes of aging without Him!)

(By the way, the birthday picture above was taken last January, when my soul sister and I were on the K-LOVE Friends and Family cruise. We'll be sailing again the first of February!)

God bless you muchly as you journey with Him! ~Kim

Woodpecker Soup

When you read this, I’ll be off on a research trip. Given my forgetful nature, I decided it would be better to get my post ready before I left. My hubby and Zoey are keeping the home fires burning while I’m out of state in search of historical details.

As I was preparing for the trip I thought about how we plan our travel nowadays. Most of us make our plane, hotel, and rental car reservations on the internet. Generally, it doesn’t take long once we know where we want to go and how we’re going to get there. We can Mapquest our driving routes and we can even request a travel agent take care of details if we want. We have cell phones to keep us connected should we need anything along the way and there’s a convenience store and gasoline station at most every turn.

Still, we complain about the time it takes to get to the airport, the time we have to wait in line for security, the occasional delays at the airport, the car we rented isn’t exactly what we’d hoped for, and the hotel room has two queen beds instead of a king.

Back in the 1800’s when folks were traversing the Overland Trail there really were some reasons for complaint. When travel from Missouri to Oregon takes eight months, you have a right to complain. When you’re so hungry you kill a couple woodpeckers and made them into a soup that ends up making you sick, then you have a right to complain.

When you don’t have a map or a trail boss to keep you headed in the right direction, then you have a right to complain. When you have to ford a river before you can cross, you have a right to complain. Until then, I think we should all keep our traveling complaints to a minimum—and as long as I don’t get delayed at the airport, my rental car is what I ordered, I get my king-size bed, and Mapquest doesn’t send me into a river, I promise I won’t complain either.

Blessings as you travel with the Lord throughout the coming week.
~Judy

P.S. The story of the Woodpecker soup is true. Two teenage boys were stranded on the Overland Trail and resorted to the 'soup' to try and sustain themselves. They ended up in worse shape than before they ate the concoction. Both survived the trip. Neither tried Woodpecker Soup again!

Is it HOT in here, or is it just me?

Imagine my surprise when I went looking for a remedy for hot flashes recently––strictly for historical research, of course––and I ran across this:

Lydia Pinkham's Vegetable Compound

As it turns out, Lydia Pinkham's Vegetable Compound was the mother of all patent medicines in the 19th century. And in the 1880s, Lydia Pinkham was a household name. The ingredients in her famous vegetable compound were Motherwort, Gentian, Jamaican Dogwood, Black Cohosh, Pleurisy Root, Licorice, and Dandelion. And one more important ingredient that wasn't listed on the label...


Snippets from Lydia's story:

Lydia Pinkham began selling her home-brewed herbal remedy to make ends meet after her wealthy husband went bankrupt, and developed a patent medicine empire. In an age when women were second-class citizens, Lydia Pinkham not only succeeded in a man's world, she became a business magnate. In the field of marketing, she is considered a pioneer and an innovater in marketing to women.


Lydia Pinkham's Vegetable Tonic was a popular remedy for "female complaints" and the elixer was promised to cure every womanly ailment from menstrual discomfort to infertility to the dreaded prolapses uteri. Advertisements claimed there was "a baby in every bottle," and women of the time, uncomfortable discussing feminine problems with male doctors, turned to Lydia. Many were scandalized when, as required by the new Pure Food and Drug act, it was revealed that the tonic was 20% alcohol.


One advertisement from the era claimed that men loved her medicine because it made women "so much easier to live with." (Mmhmm, I'm sure it did.) Another exclaimed "Don't blame her! She cannot help it!" (I think I'll use that one the next time Joe and I have a disagreement.) 


And guess what? Lydia Pinkham's Herbal Compound (they changed the name) is still available today on Amazon and in some local stores. (I've ordered some––sans alcohol––and will let you know how it works.) I seriously doubt that Lydia Pinkham had a clue, over a hundred-plus years ago, what a lasting influence her product would have and how long it would be around. Of course that got me to thinking...


Is what I'm doing with my life going to stand the test of time? I'm not talking about my writing, per se, or our various jobs (though those are important), but rather I'm referring to how we treat others, what marks we leave as we pass through this life. Are we leaving situations and people "better" than when we found them? Are we helping people in their journey? Are we making someone's journey here lighter? Or are we adding to their burden? Are we living and leaving behind a legacy of Christ?


In Ephesians 4, Paul writes, 


As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace.


Like Paul, I urge us to live lives worthy of our calling this week, whatever situation we find ourselves in. May we be humble, gentle, patient, and loving to those around us. And may we make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. Which will, of course, take every stinkin' ounce of the aforementioned humility, gentleness, patience and love through the power of Christ residing in us. ;)


Tammy

We need harmony in the world today

I came of age during the height of the Civil Rights movement of the 60's. Many difficult images linger in my memory from that time. Not that I personally experienced the turmoil of the era. I grew up far away from first-hand experience. But I was raised by a mother who had a love for all people and who desired racial harmony, and she passed that on to me.

In honor of the holiday, I'm going to send you to John Piper's Desiring God blog post where he quotes from MLK's Letter from a Birmingham Jail. Well worth reading and remembering.

~robin

TIME is a 4-Letter Word

Time keeps on slipping into the future…

The song’s been running through my mind all afternoon. I manage to get songs stuck in my mind and can’t shake them. Depending on the tune, it can be a pleasant theme for the day—“Fairest Lord Jesus”; it can echo my heart’s cry like “East from the West,” or it can be atrociously obnoxious—“The Song that Never Ends”… Unfortunately for me, I seem to have a knack for those atrocious ones.

But today, it’s been “Time Keeps on Slipping Into the Future.” It all started with everyone scrambling to leave for work on time. Left alone—completely alone—(other than the dogs) had me bopping around to tidy up the kitchen. That led to me cleaning out four of the kitchen cabinets/drawers. You see, other people have been putting things away in odd spots. It has become an all-out game of hide-n-seek each time I cook. I cannot fathom the logic that had my husband put the cheese grater with the mixing bowls. My son puts mixing bowls with the pots and pans. It’s been driving me crazy, so I surrendered today and set it all straight. But time stole away on me. Then the phone rang. After that call, it rang again. An hour or so later the new bed we ordered arrived on the doorstep. A week early—minus the special frame. Somewhere in the middle of my writing, another phone call came in, telling me the antique clock we took in for repairs is ready. That clock hasn’t run for decades. Time got away from me and I didn’t go pick it up today. Today’s plans get put off and add to tomorrow’s demands. Time keeps on slipping…

I take joy in knowing there won’t be clocks in heaven. The priorities and minutia of life won’t hold any sway. We will be there to worship and adore, and the Father of Infinity will have all of eternity to listen to whatever song fills my heart and soul. Of course, in heaven, I’ll finally have a decent voice. God who redeems hearts, minds, and souls also gives us an incredible gift as we enter into His home on high:we will slip free from the limitations of time. Clocks will hold no sway, and we’ll have eternity to sing His praises.

I’ll fly on up the heaven’s gate smiling. I could be singing “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.” Or maybe “O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing.” What I will say is, that though I am thankful the Lamb of God will welcome me in— I can’t help worrying that my mind is going to play tricks on me yet again. Because if it is, instead of belting out "My Jesus, I Love Thee" or “I’ll Fly Away Oh, Glory!” I might well be humming “Junior Birdsmen!”

But Jesus will love me, no matter what.

We are so blessed to be His!

Cathy--wondering what songs haunt you.

Stepping Outside

No, I wasn't referencing enjoying the frozen outdoors, rather I was thinking of stepping outside of your comfort zone.

I remember so many times when I was younger that I missed opportunities because I was either afraid or embarrassed to step outside of my comfort zone. There were so many things I wanted to try and didn't for whatever the reason.

I once told a friend that I loved to wear hats, but never do because it's not really the style these days. I also don't have a lot of hats, but I said to her, "I hope that I don't pass from this earth without having worn hats." Sounds silly, I know. And yes, occasionally I do get to wear a nice hat, however, it really struck me that there are other things that I would like to do and hesitate.
Then there are those thing that I feel called to do and balk at--because they make me uncomfortable.

Recently one of those things came to light. God has been after me for some time to step up and take over our ladies ministry at church. I love the women in my church, but just couldn't imagine how I would ever have the time. I love serving God, but couldn't figure out how it would work. But I felt God wanted my obedience and very cautiously I gave it. What a blessing. God did as He always does. He provided. I have a wonderful team of ladies who already knew the ropes and what was needed. God has multiplied the time like He did the loaves and fishes, and we had the most marvelous Ugly Sweater party at my house last Tuesday night. Sometimes trust comes hard.

So now I'm thinking of other things that take me outside of my comfort zone. My mom recently came running into my office and announced she was going across the street to ask the neighbor if he'd give her a snowmobile ride. He was out riding in his yard (around the ice rink) and she had never been on a snowmobile. So at 70, she braved up - or cowgirled up as we say here - and got her first snowmobile ride. I, of course, had to take photos. I'm proud of her for giving it a go. Now she's talking about cross-country sking and that makes me a little nervous, but oh well. Sometimes you just have to do these things.

So if you feel called to something--if God's been whispering in your ear--I want to encourage you to step outside your comfort zone and give it a shot. I'm not sorry I did.

Tracie

Whoops! Forgot it's Thursday lol

Sometimes working out of the home messes up your sense of time and place. I kinda forgot it was Thursday, which means I kinda forgot to blog. But here I am, trying to catch up!

Y'know, spending so much time alone in an office, social networking becomes something of a lifeline to human companionship. Although I never would have expected it, I've come to enjoy being a part of the Facebook community. Fellow writers, high school friends, and readers all converge to share snippets of their day with me. It's not the same as sitting across the table for a face-to-face chat, but when in need of a little "hey, I'm not alone in the world" recognition, I can pop over to Facebook and see what my "friends" are up to.

Yesterday I logged on and read this post from a writing friend: I'm sitting here watching my main character do something completely unplanned. There she goes, and I must hasten after her, for I am the author. I had to laugh. Yes, these characters are created beings from our imaginations, yet they do tend to take on lives of their own occasionally and run in directions we didn't see coming.

I couldn't help but follow up her thought with, "Wonder how God feels when His children go running in directions He didn't plan for us?" Obviously, we never catch God by surprise--He knows exactly what we're going to do every day of our lives even before our conception (see Psalm 139 for verification of that statement), but even so, He must shake His head in disappointment when we go running down a pathway not of His choosing. (Then, I'm very certain, He hastens after us and attempts to bring us back on course.)

Reading Joshua 1 this morning, and verse 8 caught my attention: "Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful." Granted, we're no longer living under law but under grace. But God has given us instruction for living--and following His will instead of our way is at the top of our "to do" list as believers. When we seek and follow His will, I believe prosperity, joy, and peace await. Nope, often it isn't the easy pathway, but His is always the best pathway.

God bless you muchly as you journey with Him! ~Kim

P.S. -- It's "retro week" at Facebook, where people are sharing photos from the past. Here's me, two years old, "helping" Daddy study... Always have been fascinated with words. Must've been part of God's plan for me. :o)

Counterfeit Beans

I was with a group of writer friends this past weekend. We join together every January for fellowship, prayer and to discuss writing. As usual, it was a wonderful time. And, as usual, a Saturday afternoon run to Starbucks was required. It’s become a ritual during the weekend that there is at least one Starbucks run. The orders are quite a mouthful. From a skinny caramel macchaito to an iced mocha latte, to a white mocha grande extra hot or a decaffeinated coffee frappuccino venti. It’s enough to make your coffee beans quiver.

Being an author of historical fiction, I thought about the early cowhands, ranchers, pioneers and their coffee choices. Wouldn’t they be stunned to see all of these specialty coffees we drink nowadays? When I arrived home, I flipped through my copy of The Old West Baking Book and sure enough—I found a recipe for coffee. Well, not exactly for coffee, but what to do when you’re out of coffee. You can well imagine that those cowboys out on the trail would be a tad unhappy to discover the chuck wagon cook had run out of their favorite brew—especially when the temperatures turned cold at night. And since there wasn’t a Starbucks around the next corner—in fact there wasn’t even a corner out there on the range—the cook had to be innovative if he didn’t want to receive the wrath of those cowboys. So at the instruction of the trail boss, and to stave off any possible mayhem, the cook would prepare counterfeit beans. To do this, he would gather and brown various nuts and plants. After he’d baked and browned them, he would mix them with the few coffee beans that were left. Of course, he hoped that when all was said and done his attempt would resemble the familiar flavor of coffee. Although this didn’t fool all of the cowhands, a few wouldn’t notice the difference—at least for a couple days.

When I read about the counterfeit beans I wondered how many of us could recognize the difference between a cup of Starbucks, a cup of Caribou, or a cup of Seattle’s Best. I’m sure there are some who faithfully drink one brand or the other and they could tell the difference with only a sip. But those who don’t drink much coffee or don’t care about a certain brand couldn’t tell the difference, even if they drank the entire cup. In order to tell the difference, you have to become familiar with the brand of coffee. And to become familiar with the brand, you have to drink a lot of coffee.

Knowing how to differentiate between brands of coffee is kind of like a Christian being able to separate accurate and false teaching. In order to avoid counterfeit teaching, we need to spend time studying the truth of God’s word. Otherwise, we’ll be caught unaware when those counterfeit teachings turn as bitter as a cup of counterfeit coffee.

Blessings as you enjoy a cup of Joe and dig into the truth of God’s word. ~Judy

Could you?

My husband forwarded me some "interior design" pictures the other day and they got to me thinking... Could I do this? Take a look and then tell me...could you?

This is a picture of a public toilet in Houston. The woman is getting ready to enter.

Now THIS is the toilet from the inside...

It's made entirely of one-way glass.

No one can see you from the outside, but you can see everyone and everything from your vantage point.

So tell me, could you?

Next is a painted bathroom floor...which gives you the feeling you're on the tenth floor of a high-rise, looking down!

Notice the guy in the tie. An especially nice touch, I thought. LOL!

So, could you use these bathrooms? I could handle the high-rise painting, but I'm not so sure about the one-way glass. I guess it would depend on how recently I'd visited Sonic for a Route 44 Diet DP. ;)

On a more meaningful note (grin), in my continued reading in the gospel of John, a verse jumped out at me, and I found myself thinking of the readers of this blog and I prayed the words of Jesus for you. When the Samaritan woman says to Jesus, "You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are you asking me for a drink?"

I love what Jesus says to her, "If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water."

If you only knew the gift God has for you... That's the part that jumped out at me this time, and I've been praying ever since that God would reveal the gift of Jesus to you in a fresh new way this week, and that your thirst would be quenched with living water!

Tammy

Don't grease your hair and other rules for the road

My next historical, a stand-alone that comes out in 2011, is set during the 1870's. The characters will cover a lot of ground during the course of the story. It's a "chase" plot, with the hero and heroine in pursuit of justice. They won't be traveling by stagecoach, but I thought it was a good excuse to share this piece on Stagecoach Etiquette, attributed to the Omaha Herald, 1877. (I've always seen this as one long paragraph, but I'm breaking it up for easier reading.)

• The best seat inside a stagecoach is the one next to the driver. 
• You will have to ride with back to the horses, which with some people produces an illness not unlike seasickness, but in a long journey this will wear off, and you will get more rest with less than half the bumps and jars than on any other seat.... 
• [When anyone] who traveled thousands of miles on coaches offers, through sympathy, to exchange his back or middle seat with you, don’t do it ... 
• Bathe your feet before starting in cold weather and wear loose overshoes and gloves two or three sizes too large. 
• When the driver asks you to get off and walk, do it without grumbling. He will not request it unless absolutely necessary.
• If a team runs away, sit still and take your chances; if you jump, nine times out of ten you will be hurt.
• In very cold weather abstain entirely from liquor while on the road; a man will freeze twice as quick while under its influence.
• Don’t growl at food at stations; stage companies generally provide the best they can get.
• Don’t keep the stage waiting; many a virtuous man has lost his character by so doing.
• Don’t smoke a strong pipe inside especially early in the morning; spit on the leeward side of the coach.
• If you have anything to take in a bottle, pass it around; a man who drinks by himself in such a case is lost to all human feeling.
• Provide stimulants before starting; ranch whiskey is not always nectar.
• Be sure and take two heavy blankets with you; you will need them.
• Don’t swear, nor lop over onto your neighbor when sleeping.
• Don’t ask how far it is to the next station until you get there.
• Take small change to pay expenses.
• Never attempt to fire a gun or pistol while on the road; it may frighten the team and the careless handling and cocking of the weapon makes nervous people nervous.
• Don’t discuss politics or religion, nor point out places on the road where horrible murders have been committed, if delicate women are among the passengers.
• Don’t linger too long at the pewter washbasin at the station.
• Don’t grease your hair before starting or dust will stick there in sufficient quantities to make a respectable “tater” patch.
• Tie a silk handkerchief around your neck to keep out dust and prevent sunburns....
• Don’t imagine for a moment you are going on a picnic; expect annoyance, discomfort and some hardships. If you are disappointed, thank heaven.

As much as I enjoy reading and writing historical fiction, I'm very thankful I can travel in my comfortable Subaru.

~robin

What Was That?

"You sound like a broken recording."
I heard a teen say that to his mom the other day.
Mom: "A what?"
Teen: "A broken recording. You know. Like on the phone, when, like the message has voice loop malfunction. It keeps saying the same dumb thing a bunch of times..."

My kids are 24 & 26. They grew up with cassette tapes and VCR movies. I still own the darling little records I had as a child, and my husband had a children's record player--so Kelly and Colin played records. They knew the saying, "Like a broken record." Colin's girlfriend is 20. She'd never seen a record player or records. When we discussed this, Colin described records to her as "giant black CDs."

As an author, I eavesdrop and people watch. I also find it infinitely fascinating how language changes. Things become obsolete, and the phrases revolving around it are so ingrained, we keep them or alter them... Or in time, just let them drift out of the lexicon. So I got to thinking how much of our understanding is age or era-related.

My husband: "Just so long as we're on the same wavelength."
My son's response; "Yeah, we're on the same page."

"Like fingernails on a chalkboard" made no sense to the kids in my neighborhood. Why? Schools all use dry erase boards, so the finish is even and fingernails slide down with a whisper.

"It's your nickel," and "Here's a nickel. Call someone who cares," both have to do with a pay phone. When's the last time you saw a pay phone--let alone one that cost five cents to use?

"Mind your own beeswax" comes from way back in history when women would use beeswax to help fill in smallpox scars, then powder of it. Women in the same room were likely to have their wax melt at the same time and rate, so if one commented about another's face or complexion it was rude--and she was liable to be told to mind her own beeswax.

So going whole hog, I decided to give you a few quaint old sayings so we could chew the fat. You might recognize a few of these... or most of them if you are of a more seasoned age.

“Diseases come on horseback and go away on foot”... problems and illness arrive quickly and easily, they take their time leaving

Barnumize- promote with wild and outlandish claims (after P.T. Barnum)

Give something a lick and a promise-- cleaning, to give something a quick pass and vow to finish it better later on

Curwhibble- a whatchamacallit or thingamajig.

”Between hay and grass”--Not a child or an adult

“Salad days”-- in one's youth. (Raw vegetables are used in a salad.) Used by Shakespeare in Antony and Cleopatra

“Get the Sack”--be fired (Journeymen used to supply all of their tools for a job, carrying them in a bag. When they were told to leave, the boss gave them their sack.)

”Been through the mill”....had a rough time of it

”Hop the twig”--to die or to suddenly take leave

“The penny dropped”-- the meaning of something dawns due to a remark, action or joke (probably because slot machines and penny arcades did nothing until someone dropped a penny into them)

“Worth your salt”.-- Roman soldier's allowance for the purchase of salt was called Salarium.. sal= salt (think salary) To be worthy of one's salt is to be worth your pay
“Below the salt”--in a lower esteemed position. (Salt was once very expensive. It was placed at the table as a dividing line--above and below it delineated who was more and less important)

“Pipe down”-- be quiet. Nautical term. The boson's pipe sounded at night, signaling silence and lights out

“Under the weather”..... feeling sick. (this term came from going below deck on ships due to sea sickness)

“Barking at a knot”... your efforts were as useless as a dog barking at a knot ”Bee in your bonnet”....To have an idea that won't let loose

"You're decorating a cooking pot"... You're doing needless work

"When offered turtle-meat, either eat or don't eat" ...Make up your mind, one way or another

“More than one way to skin a cat... there are more ways to get something done

“Sooner catch a weasel asleep”: something is very difficult to do

“A mare's nest”-- supposedly of great worth, but actually a valueless hoax (Horses don't nest)

"to take eggs for money," ....to exchange something valuable for something worthless.

"to come in with five eggs," ..... to interrupt with an idle story

“Keep your shirt on”-- Don't lose your temper... (Comes from when men only owned two shirts. A man getting ready to fight would take off his shirt so it wouldn't get damaged.

As for me, I'll leave the eggs in the refrigerator beside the turtle-meat, keep my shirt on, let the weasel sleep and the cat keep its skin. I'm no longer in my salad days, have been through the mill, and don't yet want to hop the twig. So if you have a bee in your bonnet to sell me a mare's nest, you're barking at a knot. The penny dropped years ago when you Barnamized that curwhibble in a last ditch effort to earn enough to sit above the salt. So I'm fixin' to go get some shut-eye and you can decorate a pot from here until Kingdom comes. And if some whippersnapper reads this and wonders what I mean, I'll just have to admit I'm older than dirt I still remember Disneyland E-ticket rides.

Hobbling away on creaky knees to my grandmother's heirloom rocking chair, so very thankful God is older than all of us and He understands any frame of reference we use when we talk to him,

Cathy Marie Hake

The Eyes Have It

I had an encounter today that I'll not soon forget. My mother invited my husband and I out to breakfast and while we were sitting there I noticed the woman across the aisle from me. She sat alone eating breakfast. I didn't think much of it at the time, but a few minutes later she came clearly into focus.

My husband was putting ketchup on his eggs, and I noticed that there wasn't much in the bottle. Trying to be considerate of him--especially since he's in a sling after rotator cuff surgery--I thought to get him another fuller bottle of ketchup. I got up and went to a table where no one was sitting and took the ketchup bottle back to ours. When I did, I noticed that the woman sitting by herself was crying.

God so clearly told me, "Go to her."

So I went. I walked over and said, "Are you all right?" She began to cry even more, but as she did she scooted over. It was like an unspoken request, "Sit with me." So I did. I put my arm around her and asked her what was wrong. She poured out her heart and told me about her rough morning--about some family problems--about a disguntled co-worker. She mentioned that she'd called her son to come get her because she didn't have her car there.

My husband is such a tender hearted man and saw what was happening so he too came over to the table. We asked the woman if she was a believer in Jesus. She said she was so we asked if we could pray with her. She was very happy to have us pray and so we did. As we prayed for her, I still had my arm around her. I could feel her relax as God's peace washed over her. It was the best moment of my day. I had the priviledge to share God--to encourage a sister--to be used of Jesus.

Later, I thought of Brandon Heath's song GIVE ME YOUR EYES
You can watch his video here
(http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5AkNqLuVgY)

But I wanted to share the chorus here with you now:
"Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity"

What a scary proposition. To see as God sees. It's not something we should ask lightly. It's a fierce request. A frightening, fearful thing. Imagine all the pain and suffering. I saw one woman crying, but God see millions.

Matthew 6:22 & 23 says, "The eye is the lamp of the body.
If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!

My prayer for this year - terrifying as it is - is that God will open my eyes--that I will shine His light--that I will see what He wants me to see and respond. I pray the same thing for you.

Tracie