Lost Moments...no more

Do you mark a novel all up as you read it? I do. Some of the books I read look like textbooks when I'm done. Underlined. Circled. Page corners turned down. Nothing's sacred. Everything is fodder for learning, for remembering, for being WOW'd by words.

Here are some recent favorite sentences I've underlined in books I've read in the past couple of weeks:

Daylight faded to thin broth.

(Devil in the White City by Erik Larson)

You want to do good. You want your life to matter. You want to live in such a way that the world will be glad you did. 

(Outlive Your Life by Max Lucado)

Now that the sun was setting in a welter of crimson behind the hills across the Flint River, the warmth of the April day was ebbing into a faint but balmy chill.

(Gone With the Wind by Margaret Mitchell)

The greatest evil tips its face toward light with shining innocence.

(Deceit by Brandilyn Collins)

Set a guard over my mouth, O LORD; keep watch over the door of my lips.

(Bible, Psalm 141:3, written by God especially for me, I have no doubt)

Words are powerful. We all know this. Because each of us has words we wish we could take back (hence, the scripture above, one of my "favorites"). And likewise, we all have words we wish we could go back and speak.

Yesterday, I saw one of our worship leaders in a little coffee shop where Dad and I had stopped in to eat lunch. As Dad and I left, I felt a prompting inside to go up and tell Carl how much I appreciate what he and his wife do. Not just for our church as a whole, which is certainly a blessing. But for me. For my personal worship.

But, I didn't.

He was in conversation with the guy he was with and I didn't want to bother them. Besides, he doesn't know me from Adam. Or well, Eve. But as soon as I left the coffee shop, even before I was out the door, I felt a tiny sense of loss. Of an opportunity passed. 

Then later yesterday afternoon (don't you love how the Holy Spirit works), I mentioned to my daughter Kelsey that I saw Carl at the coffee shop, yada, yada... And she said, "So you didn't say anything to him?" Go ahead, dear daughter, twist that knife. 

Now, is my opportunity to thank him lost forever? No. I can send him an email today or catch him Sunday and let him know. But that moment is lost. Looking back, when I let that moment pass, I'm convinced that I quenched the Spirit. The Spirit was prompting me, and I said..."Huh uh." And I'm determined not to do that again. Because words are so important. Especially those of edification, of "building up the body of Christ."

Be watching for someone today who needs "a word." Someone God will put directly into your path for you to encourage, for you to be Jesus to. It may be in a big way. More than likely, it'll be in a small way. In a way that you might be tempted to let pass. Please don't. 

~Tammy

(R to L): Saundra, Pam, Tammy, Megan, Merry, Carol

Thanks to Megan Gaddis and the gals of Burkitt Place in Nolensville for inviting me to join their book club meeting last night. We were going to Skype each other (for a virtual book club meeting) until I realized they were only 5.6 miles down the road! I hopped in the car and and joined them instead, and we laughed and had such a fun time. Thanks, gals, for reading Rekindled and for being such an encouragement! Glad our eternity together started here!

A Cry in the Wilderness

Cheryl Hodde (who writes as Hannah Alexander) has filled in for Robin for the month of August, and this is Cheryl's last guest blog for a while. Cheryl, we appreciate you, friend, and are so glad you joined us. Your words were, and are, a blessing!

There's been a question brewing in my mind for quite some time, and since this is my final August blog, perhaps you can provide some answers for me, or even more questions. We all probably memorized the easiest verse in the Bible because it was short. Jesus wept.  The account, of course, was about when He arrived after his dear friend, Lazarus, was placed in the tomb. I've often wondered, however, why Jesus wept.

Sure, He could have been simply joining in the acceptable mourning ceremony of the Jews as Lazarus lay in the grave. Martha and Mary were heartbroken and reminding Jesus he could have saved their brother if He'd been around. But really? He knew He was just about to call Lazarus from the grave, so why mourn His friend's death when He knew they would be rejoined in just a few moments?

Compare this incident with another time Jesus mourned: He was agonizing over Jerusalem, which He would have gathered beneath His wings as a hen gathered her chicks, but Jerusalem would not accept Him. Perhaps He was mourning that fact when Martha and Mary and the mourners gathered, because they still failed to grasp the truth of eternity after being so close to Him.

He could have been mourning the existence of death because of the fall of man.

Here's another thought, and one that occurred to me yesterday as I took advantage of the cooler weather and went on a hike in the wilderness. It's something Jesus often did, and it's something that makes me feel closer to Him. I seek to meet with God there, allowing Him to speak to my heart  through my five senses. I plucked a wild plum and tasted its barely sweet tartness. I listened to the music of the crickets enjoying the deep shadows of the forest, and the songs of bluebirds and mockingbirds and hawks as they reveled in the sunshine. I inhaled the fragrance of sunbaked greenery, corn stalks and the dust my feet stirred up. I relished the breeze from the north as it cooled my sun-warmed skin, and enjoyed the brilliance of the blue sky, the myriad greens, golds and silvers of lush growth around me.

And I wept. 

As often happens, I become so homesick for heaven at times like this that I want to keep walking and never return to populated civilization. The longing at times becomes so great that I weep with it.

Sometimes I wonder if Jesus may have wept for the same reason I do--not that I can claim to know what was on His mind that day. When my finite consciousness struggles to wrap itself around the beauty that surrounds me on these hikes, I try to imagine what heaven must be like in comparison. Who would want to return--or to come here from heaven in the first place to be gouged by words, by thorns, to be stripped, nailed to rough wood?

Sometimes when I'm hiking, I envy Enoch, who walked with God, and who one day simply didn't return to his earthly dwelling. Not that I will ever be able to claim that I walked with God as many years as Enoch did. I barely manage to meet with Him daily in my quiet time. That's why I long for those hikes of mine, because I feel surrounded by His creation, corrupted though it is by the fall.

Perhaps Jesus wept because he knew he was bringing Lazarus back to a place he would not want to be. After all, to be so close to the wonders and everlasting joys of heaven, and then to be ripped back to this world? I can't imagine how that must have felt.

All I know is that, as long as I can, I want to immerse myself in God's creation. I want to revel in His amazing variations on millions of themes, of His idea of beauty in the smallest of plants and winged creatures, even the sparkle of spiderwebs dripping with dew when the sun is rising.

Someday, when God calls me home to be with Him at last, I can't wait to see what His creation looks like without a touch of corruption. Just imagine.

~Cheryl

Refreshing

Heigh- ho! Heigh-ho!

It’s off to work

we go..

No shovels

or picks, though.

Maps & Computers are our tools.

Isn't Mt. Ranier magnificent?

Judy Miller, Merrill de Groot Tracie Peterson,

and I met in Seattle to do brainstorming, plotting, and research.

The Pacific Northwest is full of interesting history, gorgeous scenery, and yummy seafood.

From Seattle, we went to Bremmerton, Washington. We had a great time discovering what grows in the area, finding there are far too many museums and not enough time, and that inspiration is all around!

Right across from the hotel was a charming park. Don’t picture an expansive stretch of grass with a baseball diamond and swings. Instead, metal sculptures (one bronze), stones, and water stretched for the length of a block. Doesn’t that sound cold and unwelcoming?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~It wasn’t. Not in the least. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Trees lend strength, hints of shade, and color.

Flowerbeds gave bright splashes to the area.

Narrow streams of water shot up and provided an irresistible temptation.

A weary woman took off her shoes and soaked her feet in a still spot.

Folks walking their let dogs took them off leash and allowed them cavort.

Best of all, children came. Mothers herded bathingsuit-claid, towel-dragging gaggles of children over to let them play. There is any prettier music than children’s laughter.

Of course, when I awaited the ferry and had a camera, there weren’t any kids. BooHoo.

There almost alone, I had the opportunity to read the plaque accompanying the bronze. It was a full length of a woman, Esther Bielmeier Nora, who helped in during the “Great War” (The War to End All Wars… aka WWI) and helped in the shipyard. Women heated rivets, tossed them to someone else who got them to men riveters.

Women and men who have served our nation through all wars are represented all along the park. Flanged and curved metal pieces that bring to mind portions of naval vessels stand throughout the park. Each holds a photograph and celebrates the traits of our Navy…among them, Responsibility, Heroism, Integrity, Inventiveness... A huge form of a ship’s hull and another of an upper portion of a submarine draw attention as well.

Somehow, it all seemed so fitting. The men and women who served our nation are why those innocent children can romp freely.

It is an analogy, too.

Jesus paid the ultimate price so we would be free of sin. New Life blossoms because of Him.

So the question is, Are you going to the Living Water to restore yourself by soaking your feet? Did you take a friend along? Do you ever let yourself revel and play in the joy of what we have?

I'll scoot over a little.

C'mon and sit beside me.

Take off your shoes.

Jesus is here, and we need to spend time with Him.

Love,

Cathy Marie Hake

Sitka Revisited

One of the biggest blessings I have as an author is in visiting the places where I set the books. Sitka is one of those places I would gladly go on writing about, if I found the right stories to tell.





Jim and I taught a mini writer's conference while there and the turn out was so great. The people who attended were a blend of young and older, men and women, native and transplants, but all had a passion for writing.







As Jim and I shared with each other after the conference, we realized once more how God works through us even in little "chance" encounters. We were blessed to meet new people and hear their stories, know their thoughts and see tiny pictures of their dreams. Some will no doubt go on to see their dreams born, while others will give up somewhere along the way.


Sometimes I feel like giving up. The goal seems too big. The road too long. It's easy to look at the big picture and say, "There's no way I can endure this or overcome that."

But God never leaves us to bear it alone. I'm one of those who firmly believes that God's puts in our hearts the desires and dreams that He has for us. Sometimes we corrupt those dreams. Sometimes we ignore them, but when we are seeking the Lord and striving to do His will--it's amazing how those desires and dreams come together to bring Him glory.


Have a blessed day in Him.
Tracie

"C" is for "Chocolate"

I suppose it's no secret I love chocolate. The standing joke among my students during my teaching years was, "To make Mrs. S happy, bring her chocolate!" So when Hubby and I checked into our hotel Monday night in Walnut Creek, Ohio, the first thing I noticed was the hotel resided next to a Coblentz Chocolate Factory. I couldn't wait to visit.




We headed over right after breakfast on Tuesday. Unfortunately, the store didn't open until 9:00. That fifteen minute wait was excruciating. I couldn't resist peeking through the window at all the goodies while counting down the minutes.


One of the workers spotted me and took pity. She let me in two minutes early. I thanked her profusely.

Inside, it was awfully hard to limit my selections. Hubs insisted I had to be reasonable--after all, our suitcases were already plenty full. When I suggested I could eat the chocolate before leaving Ohio, he asked, "Just how much chocolate do you think you can consume in a week?" Then he rolled his eyes and added, "Never mind. Dumb question." Yep, that man knows me well.

I browsed, nearly drooling on the display case glass that stood between me and bonbons, truffles, dainty pecan turtles, and quarter pound blocks of fudge. After nearly forty-five minutes of handwringing and careful thought, I had what I considered to be a reasonable stack of goodies and it was time to check out.


At every booksigning, I've carried the sack of chocolate into the store with me. This serves a twofold purpose: 1) the chocolate doesn't melt in the warm car; and 2) no one has an opportunity to break into the vehicle and take it. (Hubs told me I was being a little paranoid concerning reason 2, but hey, I know what can happen when a chocoholic spots a bag of delectable chocolates. I'm not taking any chances.)

I intend to share the chocolate with my parents, children, and a few friends when I return to Kansas on Monday. Until then, this chocolate isnt leaving my sight!

(BTW, Hubs and I are having a wonderful time in Ohio. We've seen beautiful landscapes, photographed dozens of century-old houses or barns, and visited with some of the nicest people to inhabit the earth. I'm so grateful for the opportunity to visit this wonderful state! I'll tell you more about the tour next week when I'm home again.)

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

The Hills Are Alive . . . with Weeds? (Guest blogger Carol Cox)

Author Carol Cox is blogging in Judy's stead for the month of August. Welcome back, Carol. Glad you're here. And Judy, our prayers and love continue to be with you, dear friend.

As we drove along the highway on our way to church last Sunday, we marveled at the abundance of greenery on the nearby hillsides. My husband commented, “You know, it’s really pretty . . . until you realize it’s all weeds.”

It’s a little late in the year to think about April showers bringing May flowers, but our monsoon rains have brought about an onslaught of late summer growth. Clumps of grama grass wave in the breeze, wildflowers are blooming, and the hills are covered with a deep, verdant green. Okay, I know this may not look luxuriant to those of you who live in greener parts of the country, but for those of us in the high desert, this is a welcome change from the usual dried-out tans and browns. Trust me.

But weeds? My husband’s comment made me wonder. Being the inquisitive person I am—“inquisitive” being a much nicer term than “nosy”—I decided to take a closer look and see just what made up this soft, green blanket.

For one thing, we have sunflowers galore. Bright and cheery, their yellow blooms add to the beauty, if not so much to the green effect.

Then there are these light gray plants with the friendly purple blossoms. But those are silverleaf nightshade, parts of which are poisonous to both livestock and people. Um, suddenly they don’t seem so friendly after all. And again, they weren’t making up the beautiful green color on the hillside.

I already knew the name of the plant in the next photo, having fought a long-standing battle to keep it from taking over our yard and garden. This is horehound, like in the old-time candies and cough remedies. Have you ever tried horehound? And is it just me, or does it taste like bittersweet root beer? That brings up another question—is there still a market for horehound candy? Instead of fighting it, maybe we should just figure out how to market the stuff. We might become the Willie Wonkas of northern Arizona.

A little more investigating showed me the real source of that rich green: tumbleweeds. This is what they look like before they dry out and skitter across the highways. They even have their own song, remember? Drifting along . . .

Sounds pretty, doesn’t it? Kind of soft and dreamy? Well, maybe. If you don’t have to deal with the thorns snagging in the hem of your jeans or scratching your ankles and starting an itch-fest. Some people find a use for them, though. Did you know there’s a woman in Kansas (not Judy or Kim) who actually sells tumbleweeds online? I am not making this up. Man, if I’d only thought of it first! On the other hand, with so many of them around here, I ought to be able to bring in a tidy sum selling starter plants. Or maybe the tumbleweed market is already saturated, and we’ve missed that window of opportunity. That’s okay, we can always fall back on the horehound.

It all looks so green and beautiful when viewed from a distance. It’s only when you move in for a closer look that you see the less appealing side, full of thorns. Kind of like what Jesus meant when He compared the Pharisees to whitewashed tombs, clean and perfect on the outside, but full of dead men’s bones within. 

When you look at it that way, our lives can be just like those hillsides, showing an attractive face on the surface. But what really matters is what lies within our hearts. Funny, isn’t it, how God can take something as unexciting as a few lowly weeds and turn it into a life lesson?

So . . . what's blooming in your heart these days?

~Carol

Be sure to check out Carol's latest books.....

What if... and my outdoor office

A friend recently told me about a new movie that's releasing soon. A movie with a powerful God-centered message about finding true purpose in your life. It's entitled, What if... and was produced by Jerry Jenkins.  Click here to view the trailer and to find out more about this movie, and if it will be showing in a theater near you.

I've been attempting to readjust my writing schedule, but it's not working too well yet. I tend to write best (am most productive) from the hours of 10PM to 2AM. I have no clue why that is, but I'm working hard to retrain myself to have those really productive hours earlier in the day. So, to that end, I'm already out on our screened-in porch, ready to hit it hard and get major words today!

But first, wanna see where I am?

I enjoyed writing outside at our other house (that we had before we moved here this spring), but was typically chased in pretty quickly by bees or mosquitoes. But not here! At least not yet. And I'm lovin' it!

Deb Raney (lovely in her gardening attire) has a wonderful website full of pictures of author's gardens. Novel Garden gives you glimpses of author's backyards, their outdoor writing spaces, and some of their offices. A fun site to browse when you have a minute.

All right...I'm hearing the tickticktick of my next deadline. Off to grab my partially frozen Diet DP and dive back in.

Blessings on your Tuesday,
Tammy