The Power of the Positive

Most everyone has heard the title, "The Power of Positive Thinking." Often we are drawn into seminars and lectures that promote the benefits of keeping a positive outlook. Even the Bible tells us that a "merry heart doeth good like a medicine."

When we're taught to give evaluations of performances we encouraged to start with the good and then offer the bad and end with more good. We're told that sandwiching the negative or critical between two positives will help to cushion the blow.

Even so, there's so much negative in this world. So many times we see people choose the bad rather than the good. So many times we fall into that pit ourselves. At least I know I do. I was watching HGTV the other night (one of my indulgences on occasion) and watched people looking to buy a new house. No matter where the couple went the woman only saw the bad. Everything was held under a magnifying glass. She condemned the curtains, patterns of carpet, colors of paint. Over and over the agent reminded her not to worry about the things that could be changed, but this woman seemed intent on not finding anything good. It made me think about life and how easy it is to see the bad--to condemn the things that we could, with a little work or effort, change. It's easy to bemoan the problems of life and the things that don't go our way. It seems far simpiler to zero in on the aspects of life that seem hopeless or desperate.


We have a local commercial where an obviously sick man is talking about Hospice services and how he used to think of them as an ending, but now he thought about them as a beginning.

Perspective is so important to our spiritual health and mental well-being. There is truly great power to be had in having a positive outlook.

 




Philippians 4:8 says, "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." (NIV) God knew that things would be difficult for us on this earth.

Jesus warned us there would be trouble, but if we keep our focus on Him--on the right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, praiseworthy Savior, we won't find ourself crushed by the wrong, impure, ugly, disgusting, poor, blameworthy things of this world.

With every new day we have a choice to make. We can either strive to dwell on the positive or wallow in the negative. We can do our best, change what we can and choose to be happy despite the imperfections of this world and the things that have been put upon us.

Choose to find the blessing in each day.

Tracie

Hope Restored

Do you remember my post right after Mother's Day? The one that included this pic...

For those of you who don't remember, you can backtrack and read the post here. For those of you who do remember, you can read on. :o)

After that post appeared on Writes of Passage, I got so many sweet notes and emails sharing links with other hope-related pins or necklaces. A dear friend, Susan Downs, even bought a darling necklace bearing the word "hope" on a glazed tile because she felt so bad about the loss of my pin. I appreciated each person's attempt to replace the shattered pin, and as pretty as each of the suggestions were, they just weren't identical to the one I'd lost. I liked many of them, but it wasn't "the same," if you know what I mean. Eventually I came to accept that the pin was gone and there wouldn't be another one.

So...leaping forward in time here...the past two weeks Hubs and I enjoyed a get-away in Alaska. Oh, such a marvelous time of relaxation and basking in God's beautiful creation! I'll share more of the photos next week, including one of a GRIZZLY BEAR! (I can mark off "see a grizzly bear live and in person" from my bucket list), but for now, let's stay focused on the subject of hope, okay?

While in Alaska, I received a devastating update concerning my mom's remaining sibling, my dear Tante Lois. (I dedicated A Hopeful Heart to her because so many of my favorite childhood memories include time spent with her. She has always made me feel cherished and loved.) My least favorite "c" word in the world has now touched Tante Lois, and she is facing an arduous battle at the age of 85. I confess, it hit me hard. I love her and I don't want her to have to suffer. And, as silly as it sounds, I don't want her to lose her beautiful snow white hair. (Odd how the little things can matter so much, isn't it?)

I also came home to a mile-high stack of mail and a half dozen packages. The smallest package contained...are you ready for this?...a pin. A Hope pin identical in appearance to the one that was shattered.

Now, add to this my daily Bible reading on my first day home took me to Psalm 112, which included this portion of scripture:

"Happy is the man who fears [holds in reverence] the Lord,
taking great delight in His commands...
He will never be shaken.
The righteous man will be remembered forever.
He will not fear bad news;
his heart is confident, trusting in the Lord."

Can we all agree this is not coincidence? That God knew I would sorely need encouragement? I went back and reread my May post about hope, wanting to recall the lesson from that Sunday morning, and I got a lump in my throat when I read these words:

I'd told the people in the class, "This world might rob of us loved ones, our job, our home, our health...but we always have the promise of eternal life with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. That is our hope, and it is something we will never lose."

No, this world doesn't offer many promises, does it? Nothing here is forever. But God--and my relationship with Him--is forever. It can never be taken from me. My hope rests in Him. And so does Tante Lois's.

May God bless you muchly as you journey...and rest in...Him! ~Kim

P.S. -- Prayers for Aunt Lois (and her family) are coveted. Thank you.

The Great Escape!

Quick!!
Name every sheep poem or song you know.


Baa Baa Black Sheep?

Little Bo Peep?

The Lord is My Shepherd?

My newest release, A Hidden Truth, has very recently hit the bookstore shelves. Perhaps, however, the real hidden truth is that after writing this book, I’ve now got a baaaaaaaaaaaaaad case of sheep affection. Sheep played a major role in this book and in the lives of the good folks who lived in East Amana. It has made me increasingly aware of how much we need the touch of the Good Shepherd in our lives, too. So to celebrate the release of A Hidden Truth, I’ve sent out a flock of traveling books.

For those of you who haven’t seen my newsletter or read my website contest page, let me direct you to here where you’ll discover that I’m doing something a little different with the release of A Hidden Truth. I’ve sent out some traveling books that I refer to as “sheep” since sheep play an important role in this book.

There is a contest among the recipients of the traveling books, but I’m also going to have a drawing on December 15 and select 50 random entries to receive a small gift from among those who fill out the form on my contest page and include their name, email address, and tell me their favorite character or some way the Good Shepherd has touched your life.

I’m also going to be blogging throughout the next several months to update you with some fun facts about the traveling sheep. I wanted to start out by telling you that the sheep have escaped from their flocks!

I knew something had gone amiss when I saw a group of ornery sheep pretending to guard several copies of A Hidden Truth. Everything appeared much too organized. Right then, I should have realized those weren’t cute little sheep. They were wolves in sheep’s clothing planning to help my sheep escape. And help they did!

They loaded those books into the car and off they went. All eleven sheep (books) were delivered to the local post office and have now departed their flocks and scattered themselves across the country—all except for the ornery Australian Merino who still hasn’t reached his destination. They even convinced one of our local postmen to help with their plan. Can you believe he even agreed to a photo-op?

If you want to know where the sheep (books) are beginning their travels, you can check their travels at here. I hope you’ll return frequently because I’ll be updating their progress. I’m hopeful they won’t tarry in any green pastures for too long. We want to keep them moving and wagging their tails behind them.

May you find joy as The Good Shepherd directs your path. ~Judy

Dental Implants and video vignettes

I had the second part of my dental implant yesterday morning (Joe says it's important to always include the term "dental" before implant, LOL) and though everything went perfectly well, I've been hurting a little. Not bad, but Tylenol wasn't touching it. So I'm going to make this post "somewhat" short and sweet today. 

Remember when I told you that Zondervan flew a video crew to Nashville earlier this spring (still can't believe they did that!), and we spent a day filming six video vignettes on location at Belle Meade in Nashville, Tennessee? It was such fun! Well, the vignettes are ready!

They center around the history of Belle Meade, and the story and characters in To Whisper Her Name, the first Belle Meade Plantation novel releasing October 23rd. Each Monday morning over the next six weeks,  I'll share one of these vignettes on my blog and on my facebook page in anticipation of the upcoming release.

This week's video is entitled "Welcome to Belle Meade Plantation." I hope you enjoy you it and would LOVE to hear your thoughts when you're finished watching.

I'd also be so grateful if you'd share this vignette on your blogs and facebook profiles and pages, and tweet about it, if you're willing. And on Good Reads and other websites you might know about. Not to mention sharing it with your library or bookclub. I can't wait to share To Whisper Her Name with you, and believe you're going to fall in love with the history and people at Belle Meade just like I did.

If you do decide to share the video, please know that your name goes into the proverbial hat for an advance copy of To Whisper Her Name. My way of saying thanks! Visit my personal blog for the details.

And remember… The special PRE-order pricing of $4.99 for ebook (Kindle, Nook, and iBook) and for print ($8.05) is only available before the release date of October 23rd. 

I'm so grateful for you, friends! And now I'm off to write a little this morning, still floating a little from the pain meds I took last night. I usually don't take prescription pain meds but sometimes…ah, they're marvelous! 

Tammy

P.S. This weekend, Joe and I flew to Corpus Christi to see his dad, Fred, and Fred's wife Jan. Fred has been in the hospital for congestive heart failure among other things, and we've come close to losing him in recent weeks. We're so grateful for modern medicine and for the pacemaker and defibrillator the doctors implanted last week. Fred is still weak and has far to go in recovery (and will be in rehab for some time), but we're so grateful for his progress. Here are some quick pics from this weekend... 

Father and son

Hugging goodbye... (Love this one)

Me and Jan (a little shadowed at the airport) before catching our flight back home. Love this lady and appreciate how she's taking care of Fred. And your prayers are appreciated for his continued recovery!

On the Road (Guest Blog by Kathleen Y’Barbo)

I've had a love affair with long, aimless drives well before I found love with a man who shared that passion. Sliding behind the wheel, plugging in the iPod or adjusting Pandora radio, and then pointing the car toward an unknown destination has long been my idea of a grand day.

If the weather's nice, the top is down and the sunglasses are on. Always, there is the requisite Diet Dr. Pepper or iced tea (aka the house wine of the South) in the poorly designed item that passes for a cup-holder in a Mini Cooper. It's all great fun, especially when our drive takes us down odd little country roads kicking up a dust trail in our path.

Now it's midweek and I'm back at my desk doing another kind of wandering, this time on the page. A new book is brewing.

This book has a tentative title, a publisher's signature on a contract, and is already a synopsis with at least one character who will see print in a previous novel before his story is told. It's all exciting stuff, this new beginning, though any writer who tells you he or she isn't at least a tiny bit terrified at not living up to any prior books...well, I digress.

So, I'm thinking about this man with whom I will be spending the next few months (yes, my husband knows all about him), and I'm filling in the gaps left by the brevity of the synopsis and the few conversations he is allowed in book 1. Instead of the requisite character worksheets or plotting exercises that some authors swear by, what comes to mind as I plan his tale is an image I saw on a dirt road last week when my husband and I were on one of our aimless rambles, and I was certainly not looking for writing inspiration. A gloriously beautiful hawk perched on a low branch so near the road I could almost reach over and touch it. Its stare was jarring, the way it almost dared us to approach. And then, abruptly, the massive bird attempted to fly...and flopped to the ground with great indignity. My heart hurt for that hawk, so proud even as it was wounded. Nothing showed on the outside until it made a move.

From that hawk comes the germ of an idea that will fill in some of the blanks in a certain New Orleans Pinkerton agent. His pride, oh, I know where that comes from. But his hidden wounds? Those are part of the journey, and right now I don't know the destination.

Thus, I am on the road again...to where? In this case the destination is to THE END. Won't you join me?

---

Bestselling author Kathleen Y’Barbo is a multiple RITA and Carol Award nominee of over forty novels with more than one million copies of her books in print in the United States and abroad. A certified family law paralegal and former literary publicist, she was recently nominated for a Career Achievement Award as well as a Reader’s Choice Award by Romantic Times magazine. A tenth-generation Texan, Kathleen Y'Barbo has four grown children, seven bonus children, and her very own hero in combat boots. Find out more about Kathleen at www.kathleenybarbo.com.

The Inconvenient Marriage of Charlotte Beck

Winner Announced & a Brief Note from Robin

First of all, congratulations to Writes of Passage & Write Thinking reader, Kathleen (whose Blogger ID is Lane Hill House). Kathleen's name was drawn to win her choice of a book by last Monday's guests, Cara Putman and Melanie Dobson.

As for me, I'm taking a blogging break after a summer that was pretty intense, writing-wise. And it's not just a blogging break. I'm taking a vacation ... with my man. It's a car trip. Pray for us! We have never driven together anywhere that took more than four hours one way. Our first day is 14 hours of drive time, not counting stops. The good news is, I have a bunch of audiobooks that I haven't got to listen to yet. Should make it through several before we're back in Idaho.

With any luck and some good Internet connections, I'll attempt to do a little blogging over on Write Thinking and post pictures to my Facebook Page. So I hope you'll pop over to one or both and check that out.

I've arranged for some writer friends to fill my Monday slots on Writes of Passage through the 10th of September (today's guest's post will follow in an hour or so), and I know you will enjoy all of their posts and make them welcome.

So you won't worry about Poppet and Pinky (I know how passionate many of you are about pets), we've got family staying in our home who will spoil Poppet and Pinky silly while we're away. So much better than boarding them if at all possible. And don't you just love this shot of Pinky at right? She was watching the finches feeding in the tree outside my office and wanted desperately to push through blinds and glass to get to them. Intense!

See you in September.

~robin

Waaaay Back to School

Grab an apple and hit the books! It's back to school time!

Back in the "Good Old Days," school was arranged in such a way as to leave children at home on the farm during times of peak need. Planting, harvest, cattle drives... those times required all workers. In some areas, school was conducted only five months out of the year! (If you have a kid in school, before they decide they wish they lived back then, Google the test for 8th grade graduation.)

Married women didn't teach--their duty was to their husbands. Unmarried girls could teach, but school marms made far less than school masters. Most often, the school marm lived with a local family. It spared the community of having to provide housing, and the host family kept close watch on the teacher's conduct.







Three different sets of "Rules for the Teacher" are widely disseminated. Sold in museums, posted in old one-room schoolhouses, and plastered all over the internet, they supposedly reveal the grim workload and restricted life expected of a teacher. I'm not posting them here because.... Snopes and a few other research sites state these "rules" cannot be authenticated! 

 

The community often held church services in the schoolhouse... or held school in the church. The former was less happily received because desks made for uncomfortable and limited seating for worship. Using church benches pleased adults better and cut costs. Depending on the locale, the school might be made of bricks, field stone, wood, adobe, or even a tent.

This tent school was in Long Beach, California. The teacher, Miss Grace Bush, was only 16 years old. (Wow. Look how much she got done when she didn't have a TV, computer, or cell phone!)Notice how "green" this school was, and notice its version of air conditioning.

(BTW, I wonder if the four kids wearing hats are all from the same family.)

Older kids grew up with the task of minding younger ones. They'd tutor their "youngers" in the classroom, heat up their lunches on the potbelly stove, and get them to and from school. Three or even four siblings would ride a mule or horse to school. Parents created the "car pool" of that day, using a buckboard and filling it with the children who lived nearby. Later, when automobiles entered the picture, kids piled in. Walking five miles to school was commonplace. (Contrary to many tales, those miles were not uphill both directions.)

School marms or masters had to prepare lessons for each age group, teach them, and keep all of the other children busy and quiet. Parents provided the textbooks, but students often shared only one or two copies for an entire grade. Complicating that issue was the custom of separating the sexes.

So now it's back to school time.
 Let's pay tribute to teachers--then and now-- for all they do!

What was the name of your favorite teacher, which grade did he/she teach, and why did he/she earn that special place in your heart?

Mine was Mrs. Pilcher, 1st grade. She taught me to read!
Cathy

We're Smokin'

Montana has several fires, but Idaho seems to have even more. Now Washington state has added to the pot and viola! We're Smokin'! The doctor asked me the other day if I smoke and I told her, only during summer forest fire season. She thought that was funny, but alas, it's true. We started early with fires this year and the entire summer has been miserable. On the other hand, I still have a beautiful state to live in and many things for which I'm thankful.

 

The smoke in Montana has given us some beautiful sunsets, even though it's wreaking havoc with my asthma.

 

This fawn doesn't seem to mind, but you can see how hazy things are in the background.

Even smokey, it's a great place to live.  Here's Mack enjoying a game of fetch.  We had him shaved for the summer, so he doesn't look quite as grand the collie as he usually does, but he just turned one year old.

 

 

Calvin on the other hand has a few years on Mack.  Calvin is the wise one who Jim put in charge of Feline Security. I'm very thankful for him and the little gifts he brings on occasion - voles, gophers, mice and sadly the occasion baby rabbit.

 

This is Molly, my mother's beagle.  Molly has very little patience for Mack, but she can be so very sweet.

 

And Sarfari has very little patience for anyone.  She's queen of the keep and doesn't let anyone forget about it.  The smoke doesn't seem to bother her at all. And Jim says it's because she's actually demon possessed and from hell. Sometimes as crazy as she gets...I actually think he may be right.

 

So despite the smoke and my inability to go for long walks outside, I occasionally get to go for a short drive.

 

So we'll deal with our hazy, smoky skies and take refuge in the sealed and air conditioned house.  I'll wear my mask when I get house crazy and go for a short drives (I had to say that or Cathy would get after me), and I'll be praying for early snows or complete fire suppression.

 

 

 God Bless!

Tracie

Research for the Senses (Guest blog with Connie Stevens)

Welcome to Writes of Passage, Connie! Thanks for filling in while Kim is out of pocket this week. Wonderful to have you with us!  

Research trips make me swoon. The very thought of standing in the middle of the setting of a story I’m writing sends chill bumps skittering down my spine, and my imagination soars. I suck in a deep breath and savor the aroma of inspiration. Writers’ block melts away and my characters whisper in my ear.

My very first research trip took me to the New Echota Historical site near Calhoun, Georgia. After three hours of pouring over journals and historic ledgers, and picking the brain of the senior historian, I spent the remainder of the day walking the acreage that used to be the site of the town built by the Cherokee in north Georgia. I wandered through restored buildings and took hundreds of photos, hiked trails, and lingered beside a babbling stream. I sniffed the scent of honeysuckle and rhododendron, watched a woodpecker hunt for bark beetles, and studied the way the sunlight fell through the tree branches.

A pair of red-tail hawks circled lazily aloft, riding on the warm air currents, their eyes no doubt scanning the forest for some unsuspecting squirrel or chipmunk. Finally, I sat in the grass under a canopy of white oaks, closed my eyes, and listened. On the mournful wind through the cedars, I heard the cry of the Cherokee inhabitants of this place as they were forced from their land to relocation forts and later to the infamous Trail of Tears. And my heart wept to think of an entire nation of people torn from the place of their roots and compelled to travel far from their home to a location not of their choosing, burying loved ones along the way.

Online research and books are great, but there’s nothing like walking on the very ground where I’m placing my characters to kindle a fire within me.

Since that first trip, I made repeated trips through the north Georgia mountains as I wrote the second and third books in that series. Delight tickled my stomach when I found an old house nestled into the landscape and pictured my characters sitting on the front porch.

In an antique store, I gripped century-old tools my hero might have used. I discovered a lacy yellow parasol and immediately added it to my opening scene. Browsing through a museum in White County turned up hand-made bricks formed by slaves before the War Between the States. Evidence of dried grass crisscrossed the surface of some of the bricks, while others bore a unique stamp much like the brand on a steer. I placed my own fingers into fingerprints indented in the hardened clay and found a new ending to my story. I can’t do that perusing a website.

Recently, I spent a couple of days wandering through museums in the southwestern corner of Missouri in preparation for writing my next story. Imagine my delight when I uncovered dusty journals archived for the local historical society. They even showed the names of people who bought up parcels of land in the 19^th century. One name recurred several times, and I couldn’t figure out why this man purchased acreage scattered over three counties. The separate parcels did not join together—they were miles apart. Then I found records of a railroad laying track through the state two years later, and the route taken by the railroad matched the man’s newly acquired land. Think that scenario will make it into a book?

Driving through the Ozark hills, I was struck by the similarities to the north Georgia mountains while retaining a special flavor all their own. Gentle, rolling hills hugged idyllic valleys, and low-hanging clouds crowned the steeper inclines, mimicking chimney smoke.

After brain-storming with my crit partners, Kim Sawyer, Eileen Key, Margie Vawter, and Darlene Wells, I discovered a deeper understanding of one of my secondary characters, and realized he would be the hero of the second book. Who knew this guy had developed and operated a hot mineral springs resort in North Carolina before coming to Missouri? Hmm, methinks I need to experience a soak in a hot mineral springs spa-ahhhh in the near future. If I don’t answer my cell phone, just leave a message. I’ll get back to you…eventually.

~Connie

Be sure and check out Connie's latest book, Harvest of Hope, and also Connie's website. Thanks again, Connie. Great post!

Statue of Liverty

I know. I spelled it wrong! But when I was little, that was how I pronounced the Statue of Liberty.

If any of my family members see the title of this blog, they’ll be groaning. They’re sick to death of hearing about the Statue of Liberty, and the fact that I have never gotten to see the famous lady. For the rest of you who haven’t heard my tale of woe, hang on—you’re about to hear it.

Back in the dark ages, when I was about six years old and my sister was seven, my aunt and uncle decided to make a trip to New Jersey to visit friends. During the trip, they planned to stop and see the Statute of Liberty. So far, so good. However, things turned a little ugly when said aunt and uncle decided they would take my sister along for the sojourn, but I would have to remain at home. They used the excuse that I since I was prone to car sickness, it wouldn’t be a good idea to take me. We lived in Pittsburgh, so it really wasn’t like we would have been driving across the entire country, so I didn’t buy into that explanation.

No matter the reason, I didn’t get to go along and visit the Statue of Liberty. In my sister’s defense, I have to admit that she wasn’t involved in the decision-making process. But at six years old, I wasn’t convinced she couldn’t have convinced my aunt and uncle to take me along. I was certain she could have dug in her heels and insisted that if I didn’t go, she wouldn’t either. And when she returned home with her tale of seeing the famous lady and climbing those steps to look out over New York Harbor—well, I wasn’t one bit happy.

Since then, whenever anyone mentions going to New York City, I regale them with my woeful tale, and the fact that I’ve never seen the Statue of Liberty. So, when my daughter recently decided to visit New York City, the Statue story returned front and center. I think my souvenirs were intended to appease me. And while I like my hat and sunglasses, I think I’ll still try for the real thing one day.

How about you? Any place you’ve been longing to visit for most of your life?

May you find joy as you recall childhood memories. ~Judy

Two series at once? Glad you asked!

I've had this question more than once already this week from readers, so thought I'd respond here too.

The question: "Are there going to be any more books in the Belmont Mansion series? I see another series starting up, with Whisper Her Name (Belle Meade Plantation), and I was just wondering."

YES! There are TWO more books coming in both the Belmont Mansion series and the Belle Meade Plantation series. A LASTING IMPRESSION is book 1 for Belmont, and TO WHISPER HER NAME (releasing Oct 23, I'm so excited!) is book 1 for Belle Meade. The two series "intertwine" and show us different perspectives of Nashville during similar time periods.

Adelicia Acklen (the mistress of Belmont) and the Harding family (from Belle Meade) knew one another, though they moved in different social circles. Belmont was the "summer villa" of the richest woman in the U.S. at the time, and Belle Meade Plantation was the most influential thoroughbred stud farm in American history. So you can imagine how different the settings are, as well as their histories. And how interesting! I hope you think so too.

So as you're reading both the Belmont Mansion series and the Belle Meade Plantation series, know that I'm writing them to "intertwine." Meaning… You *might* just catch glimpses of people from the Belmont books in the Belle Meade books (or visa versa), as well as glimpse a character from a past novel of mine.

Here's the trailer for To Whisper Her Name...

Bookmarks, autographed bookplate, and recipe from the story available by request.

So tell me… What's the last series books (either historical or contemporary) that you've fallen into 'book love' with? 

~Tammy

An addendum… Are you part of a church library or a book club? Want a stash of books? Well then, let's chat! 

Come on over here and find out what I'm giving away!