2011 Favorites

It's that time of year again. The time to give a virtual high five to my favorites of 2011. Granted, not all of the following books came out in 2011, but it's the year I had the pleasure of experiencing the talents of these amazing writers, so it's the year I shall share :) To keep things simple, I won't include story summaries, just the why and what that made these reads so irresistible.

Books:

Fiction

Indivisible by Kristen Heitzmann. Anybody who knows me knows I'm a total scardy cat. I jump at YouTube previews and scream when a shadow crosses the front window (later to discover it's just the UPS man) But I digress. Indivisible was just the right blend of chilling, on the edge-of-my-seat romance. Kristen's gift at storytelling sold me at page one. I became an instant fan.

Plain Jayne by Hillary Manton Lodge. I must admit, I'm not a big reader of Amish fiction but Hillary's debut novel was impossible to put down. Her characters were so likable and real and Hillary's voice is hilarious. It's one of the few books I've ever read that made me guffaw and snort all in the same paragraph.

Fresh Start Summer by Beverly Nault. I'm a huge fan of Beverly's style of writing. Casual, funny and always inspirational. She writes the kind of characters you want to be friends with. If you like cozy fiction and a writer with a sense of humor, snatch this one up!

Katia by Bruce Judisch. A dramatic and witty recount straight from Berlin during the time of the wall. Bruce's novel drew me in from the start and didn't let go until I read The End. This is the type of book that challenges. It made me want to be a better person.


Non-Fiction

A Love That Multiplies by Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar. Whether you have one child or a bus load, this peek into the Duggars lives is truly inspiring. Any couple that encourages parents to strive for greatness and Godliness when it comes to raising children are heroes in my book.

We Are Not Alone by Kristen Lamb. Easy to read, stuffed with important how-to's, and the ever helpful what-not-to-do's, this book is a gem of information on social media. And Kristen is a total riot. Not to mention, her way of using her own blunders to help others is pretty darn cool.


Movies:

I guess I should say movie, because I haven't gotten out much this year =)

But I can't think of a movie more worth mentioning than Courageous. My husband and I had a date night for our anniversary and this was the perfect movie. Encouraging, uplifting and even life changing, this is a film that all families should see. Plus, I cried within the first two minutes. This movie had me at hello.

So there's the nutshell. I'm curious. What great reads and films did you discover this year?

The Moment I Forgot About Christmas

It's been more than forty-eight hours now since my husband came home from work early in excruciating pain. More than forty-eight hours since I called his mom to see if she could rush him to the ER. I watched in near tears as our neighbor, who is a nurse, brought him a face mask to put on because if her fears were correct, he could have been so contagious that our whole family would be at risk.

I didn't know anything. I simply knew that he was so weak he could hardly stand. And watching him leave with no color in his face and tears in his eyes for fear the baby or the kids would get whatever it was that he had, simply broke my heart.

Watching them drive away was almost too much to bear. I wanted so desperately to go with them. But we all knew that taking a four week old into the ER was not a good idea. So I stayed home and waited.

There were a few things I knew. I knew he was having headaches so severe they were making him throw up, an alarming amount of pain in his neck and back, and after speaking to the nurse, I knew it could be spinal meningitis and that after signing a waver because of the possibility of paralysis, he would be getting a spinal tap to reach a diagnosis.

I could not hold his hand. I could not tell him how much I loved him. He was over an hour away in a tiny quarantined room.

That's when I vaguely remember hearing that there were only five days until Christmas. And suddenly it was like I was waking up from a coma. Like all I could see were bright lights. Everything else washed away.

All except my husband. And my children. And my King.

There was no more tinsel and no more lights. I didn't care whether the cookies needed slivered almonds or chopped pecans. Or that the last row of lights on the tree had burnt out. All I cared about was whether or not my phone was going to ring and what was going to be on the other end.

All I wanted was for my husband to be OK. And I had no idea if he was actually going to be OK.

As the hours and days have worn on, with presents still unwrapped and many left to buy, it was natural to wonder if Christmas was going to be normal. But maybe--just maybe its not supposed to be.

Because Christmas was never about us. It was about the Savior who came to this earth as a baby to be born in a cold stable among donkey and sheep. And just like the drummer boy--we have no gifts fit for a King.

Except to get down on our knees and thank him for our family.

And thank him for the night he came into this world beneath a midnight sky. Although there was no room in the inn, and although the world He came to save would betray him, He still came.

To bring us tidings of comfort and joy.

* * *

I have since learned that our prayers have been answered and Noah was not contagious. Test results have begun coming in and the worst illnesses are slowly being ruled out. Which meant that I was able to visit him! Holding his hand and seeing the color in his cheeks and the smile on his face was all the Christmas present I needed.

We are so thankful for all the prayers and all the love that has poured in from friends and family. It's going to be a very merry Christmas this year, despite the fact that the thanksgiving decorations are still up and we don't have a stocking for Caleb :)

Wishing you a Merry Christmas and a joyous time celebrating the birth of our Lord!
From my family to yours.

A Homemade Christmas

With the economy not what it used to be and many families looking to save money this Christmas season, it's no wonder more and more people are choosing to make homemade presents for their loved ones.

Despite the sparkle and glitz of flashy holiday commercials, some folks are still choosing to slow things down a bit. Embrace the beautiful simplicity of a handmade gift. From aunty's chocolate dipped pretzels to grandpa's rustic bird feeder, to the handcrafted shopping bag angel on top of the tree with old manuscript pages for wings (oh, wait that's just us.) Homemade gifts are special. They say "I took the time to make this for you."

So in embracing the pioneer spirit this year, I've conjured up homemade gifts, including the infamous apple pie soap, crochet scarves and a crochet rag rug ( oh yeah, took it up a notch on this one.) And lastly, I bought one of my favorite teas, creamy pumpkin pie, and I'm planning on putting together little glass jars packaged with a ribbon and tea ball.

Homemade projects are all about heart. Some projects are easy and fun while others challenge us making one want to set fire to the green sweater we've knitted that we thought was "hunter" but in the sunlight, just so happened to be "chartreuse." (I'm not venting, I'm not, I'm not)

Despite the glitches and imperfections, I hope these homemade gifts will bring a little cheer.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. Are you making any presents this year for your Christmas gift giving? What special homemade gifts have you received?

An Advent of Giving: Our Family's Twist

What is advent?

It's a beginning.
An arrival.
An anticipation.

All for the celebration of Christ's birth.

And we celebrate it by pulling tootsie rolls and sticks of gum out of numbered felt squares.

Really? That's the best we can do?

Imagine anticipating the homecoming of a loved one from the war overseas and celebrating that anticipation by shoe shopping on day 1, getting a pedicure on day 2, and so on. All to express your love and unbridled joy at greeting your dear one.

Well when you put it that way... My point exactly!

So it was as my husband and I were discussing ways we could increase Christ and decrease Santa ( sorry chubbo) that we came up with the idea of doing an advent calendar in reverse.

Yep. Instead of getting shiny chocolate kisses for each day we draw closer to our Savior's birth, we as a family, come up with one way of blessing someone else that day.

Now granted our lives are a little hectic right now with three small kids including a 2-week old, so while we hope to do more in the years to come, we're keeping the ideas extra simple and surprisingly enough...it doesn't take all that much to make a persons day.

Here are some of the things we have marked on our homemade advent calendar:

Day 1: Levi drew a picture for our elderly neighbor who has just lost her husband to cancer, he carried it over and took a few moments to chat with her.

Day 2: Mabry helped me bake banana bread--she's is the worlds greatest masher--for another neighbor.

Day 3: On Sunday, Noah handed the baby to a lovely woman in our church. With everyone itching to hold a newborn and mommy and daddy wanting to keep him close, it was a real treat for her. Her ear to ear grin the entire time nearly brought tears to my eyes.

Days 4 & 5: Lastly, while out with his grandma at a taco joint, Levi asked an older gentleman if he could throw his trash away for him. Imagine finishing your meal only to have a five-year-old offer to whisk away your trash. (I love that he had this idea all on his own!) And the following day, he filled the wood box next to the stove, then swept the dirt he had tracked in and even offered to mop! All to bless his mommy. My heart melted when Noah came home and secretly told me that I was the recipient of the advent blessing that day.

I love that our children are learning at a young age to serve others, and they're doing it so joyfully. I'm excited to see what ideas we continue to come up with this advent season. And even more excited when I hear him say "Jesus is the reason for the season," each time he finds a way to bless someone.

So tell me, what are some of your favorite holiday traditions?


Photo credit: The Nativity Story, 2006

Welcome Baby Caleb!

As promised, here's the update on our new little addition!
My November 18th due date came and went and it was quite clear our third baby had no interest in coming on time. In fact, I think he may have gotten hold of some super glue because the kid was snug as could be. The midwife had been monitoring his size due to the fact that my belly was big enough for twins. In fact I got asked ALL THE TIME if I was having twins. In one night two people asked me if I was having twins and a third lady said my belly looked just like hers. I thought, finally, someone who had a belly as big as mine. Then she said, "I was carrying twins."

Fabulous. Time to go home to hubby and consider picking a back up name!

Needless to say we were concerned about this baby coming late and getting ANY bigger. So aside from all the old-fashioned remedies for encouraging labor to begin, I decided to google it and see if I had missed an idea. A youtube video of a mego prego lady rocking out to music in her living room immediately caught my attention. I mean the lady was really getting down with her bad self. So on Saturday I decided to give it a try. Of course my husband whipped out his I Phone and lets just say if the footage was not properly deleted his life may be in jeopardy.


Although I did decide there were 4 good things about being overdue:
1. No one will try and kidnap you. It's just too much work. Plus you have the whole bladder control thing playing to your advantage.
2. You can walk through Costco devouring an almond ice cream bar and no one will bat an eyelash. Except for the man who gave you the odd look when you took off the wrapper as you rather (indiscreetly) sang hallelujah to your about-to-be-consumed-dessert.
3. It's most likely the only time that someone will tell you your belly is hard as a rock.
4. Even though you have kankles...you can't see them *grin*


Anywho, back to the action.

On Saturday night, to my surprise it kept the momentum of my contractions going. Since we live an hour+ from the hospital, I woke up my husband, Noah, and he got to work throwing on clothes, loading bags and warming up the car.

When we got to the hospital it was 2:00 AM and the labor and delivery floor was under construction. We walked the halls for an hour watching the commotion to keep my mind off things. When faced with the uphill climb of labor and pain, a gal can get overwhelmed. When anxiety and doubt crept in, I asked Noah to read to me. He pulled out his phone and Bible app then read all of first Timothy. Later on, after officially checking in, things really intensified and he rounded the corner into 2nd Timothy because still, it was keeping me semi-calm. This is a good time to point out that we had chosen the name Caleb Scott for our little man. The day before I went into labor, Noah suggested the middle name Timothy. We decided to wait and see when he was born and we could decide. More on that in a minute...

To our delight, Caleb was born at 12:02, a surprising 9Lb 15 oz, and the whole labor experience worked out really well. I was so thankful for my husband, especially when it came down to the idea of changing our original birth plan and veering in a different direction. The whole time Noah was my hero and I was so thankful to have him by my side. We named our new son Caleb Scott then shortly after, I asked Noah if we could change it to Caleb Timothy due to the fact that we had nearly consumed both books only hours before. Since his idea the day before, he was pretty thrilled and it suddenly became clear that was the perfect middle name.

Our ten pound baby was quite a hit on the labor and delivery floor that night, as nurses came and went, amazed at his heft each time they picked him up. He's just a warm, snuggly, teddybear and I have to admit it's not always easy to share him :).

We were so excited to have the kids come see him the day after he was born and even more excited to finally bring him home. He likes his snug little house in the mountains and loves even more having his diapers changed near the wood burning stove and two doting siblings singing to him, reading to him, and just loving him endlessly. Our family feels so much more complete now and my husband and I are excited to watch Caleb, Levi and Mabry continue to grow into the lovely people God has planned for them to be.

Taking a break from blogging this week but I'm so thankful to have the most precious newborn in my arms and I promise to tell all about him in my next post! Here's a fun post on editing from one of my fabulous critique parters, Beverly Nault.

Tighten, cut and burn those problem areas, Writer. Like a good exercise routine, editing can target specific weaknesses. Here’s an acronym for three common loose and flabby areas.

Here’s our practice paragraph.

A noise woke up Lavinina with a startle and she looked at the alarm clock. It read five thirty. Her husband’s side of the bed felt cold and lonely. She rolled over to try and get some more sleep despite the noise. She remembered now, he’d called to say he was taking another shift, it would give him some overtime pay. She heard a noise and sat bolt upright, her heart beating a staccato. She looked outside the window and saw it was still dark outside and she wondered who could be in the house with her?

Can this be trimmed and tightened? Yes, SIR!

S-sensory terms. Remove all the “feelings” that are obvious by the action: looked, felt, heard, etc.

I-“it” is weak and nondescript. While impossible to totally eliminate, you can often recast the sentence and use more active, interesting phrasing. Seek and replace all its.

R-repeated words. Highlight verbs, nouns and objects occurring more than once and think of new ones, or rephrase them. Some writers read their manuscript backward or out loud to catch these.

Here’s our paragraph, trimmed and toned, with SIR in mind.

A noise Lavinina woke up with a startle and she looked at the alarm clock . It read five thirty. She rolled over to try and get some more sleep despite the noise. Her husband’s side of the bed felt cold and lonely. She remembered now, He’d called to say he was taking another shift, it would give him some for overtime pay. She heard A noise, and she sat bolt upright, her heart beating a staccato. She looked Outside the window, and saw it was still darkness outside and she wondered Who could be in the house?

One more for flow, and I’ll let you know who’s making all those noises...ahem, mysterious clatters.

Lavinina startled awake. The bedside clock read five thirty. An arm across Bobby’s cold, lonely side of the bed reminded her of his midnight call, “Taking another shift for some overtime pay.” A clatter made her sit bolt upright, covers pulled to her chin, heart hammering. The window curtains blew apart in the slight breeze, the streetlight glowing outside. Who could be in the house? Footsteps pounded in the
hallway and her door flung open. Tiny Abigail, face sticky, toothless grin wide, bolted toward the bed. “Daddy came home early and we made you can-pakes! Happy Birthday, Mommy!”

To tighten your prose, use the acronym SIR to remind you where to attack these loose and flabby areas. Sir, yes, SIR!

Beverly Nault is the author of Fresh Start Summer and her latest short story is now available!

2 Book Giveaway & Name Guessing Contest!!!

I can't tell you how many times people have tried guessing the name of our mystery boy. So I thought it would be fun to hold a contest. Of course every contest needs a prize, so I looked around at my bookshelves the other day and realized I had several books for giving away. Hooray! Sadly, these are books that were never claimed *sigh*

So remember: Thou must returneth to claim thine prize (or would it be prizeth?) I dunno. But haste ye back to this post on Nov 21st to see the winner! Oh, and the fabulous books up for the taking...

The Heart Mender by Andy Andrews And
Winning Him Without Words by Lynn Donovan and Dineen Miller





So here's how it works: You get one entry for leaving a comment below and additional entries by doing any of the following:

Follow me on Facebook 

Share this giveaway on Facebook or Twitter

Try and guess the name of the baby. Seriously. Give it a shot! (Hint: it's a boy bible name.) If you get it right, I'll throw in a box of red hots.

That's four ways to enter :]

Please let me know what you did so I can tally your entries!
All entries will go into a hat and be pulled out by a really cute two-year old. It will probably have a elk on it. Not the kid, the hat.

Happy entering!!!

Guidelines:
The winner will be chosen and announced below on November 21, 2011 so please check back or follow me on Facebook to be automatically notified! Of course, If I'm having to-be-named-baby, I will post the winner as soon as I can ;)

Waiting on Baby...

The changing table is in place, cloth diapers are organized, and the bassinet is in it's spot by the bed, little blue blankets folded and waiting for someone to warm. Now all we need is a baby. And after nearly 10 months of waiting, we are so ready for this little one to come!

When we went to the ultrasound, we were planning on being surprised. But alas, while showing us a few final images of baby B, my husband and I both saw a little too much. We knew right away we were having a boy. But we left the ultrasound room, still planning on being surprised. Stopping in the hall, we turned to one another and both said that we knew what it was. Laughing, we shared that it had to be a boy and wanting to be certain at this point, as opposed to 99% sure, we knocked on the door to the ultrasound room, and a surprised technician greeted us. We asked her to confirm our suspicions and she very sweetly told us we were having a boy. Then, she urged us to come back into the room so she could take some more pictures just for fun.

So once we knew our "it" was actually a "he", all we had to do (aside from completely overhauling our bedroom to accommodate a pint sized person) was choose a name. Easier said than done this time around. We tossed around a few ideas, but nothing had that special something. And then one day my husband suggested a name and I immediately agreed. But what about that surprise we had been hoping for in waiting to find out the baby's gender? So right away, we decided we would keep the name to ourselves and tell our family and friends once the little guy made his grand entrance. This is driving our families crazy and there has been much guessing. More than once, they've asked one of our kids what the name is. Like we would tell those two rug rats, hehe.

Everyday, people check in on me to see if anything is happening, but alas, this baby seems quite comfortable where he is. I think he hears all the commotion in our little house and has decided to stay put where it's a little more peaceful ;) Though little does he know there are two pairs of tiny arms just itching to show him love. I have much to be thankful for and look forward to the next phase in our lives!

Book Review: Mine Is The Night

The story:


Stepping from a battered coach on a rainy April eve, newly widowed Elisabeth Kerr must begin again, without husband or title, property or fortune. She is unafraid of work and gifted with a needle, but how will she stitch together the tattered remnants of her life? And who will mend her heart, torn asunder by betrayal and deception?


Elisabeth has not come to Selkirk alone. Her mother-in-law, Marjory Kerr, is a woman undone, having buried her husband, her sons, and any promise of grandchildren. Dependent upon a distant cousin with meager resources, Marjory dreads the future almost as much as she regrets the past. Yet joy still comes knocking, and hope is often found in unexpected places.


Then a worthy hero steps forward, rekindling a spark of hope. Will he risk his reputation to defend two women labeled as traitors to the Crown? Or will a wealthy beauty, untainted by scandal, capture his affections?


The heartrending journey of the Kerr women comes to a glorious finish in Mine Is the Night, a sparkling gem of redemption and restoration set in eighteenth-century Scotland. 


My thoughts:


There are few authors who spin a tale as delightful as Liz Curtis Higgs does time and time again. After reading Here Burns My Candle, I was eagerly anticipating the sequel to the Kerr family story. And Mine is the Night does not disappoint! Laced with the colorful details of 18th century Scotland, Mrs. Higgs weaves a story richer in colorful details than any tartan plaid. As with every story written by Liz, her painstaking research comes through so effortlessly, that the reader is whisked away to another time and place. With cozy fireplaces, delectable Scottish fare and heartwarming characters, Mine is the Night is the perfect autumn read. 

      ~Joanne

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1950's Etiquette from Emily Post

My dad and I have a mutual bond: geeky humor. He picked up a copy of Etiquette by Emily Post at a yard sale and we've had fun thumbing through it. While the values hidden in these now humorous cautions are worth considering, times have drastically changed. So just for fun...

Hospitality at College: When Wrong Clothes Spell Failure

If the college should happen to be in a warm climate, naturally foulard dresses or cotton prints would take the place of the warm woolens. But at a college that is, let's say, snow-bound for many months, it is important that the clothes be warm and that heavy gloves, low-heeled shoes, and galoshes be included. Nothing could be more unappealing to a boy that a girl in such unsuitable clothes that she can take no part in any outdoor sports. High-heeled evening slippers in which to walk on frozen snow, and thin fluffy clothes when the thermometer is zero, will not impress any boy as alluring, but will make him wish he hadn't handicapped himself with such a nuisance.

A Few don'ts for Debutantes

Don't think that because you have a pretty face, you need neither brains nor manners. Don't think that you can be rude to anyone and escape being disliked for it. Whispering and giggling are always rude. Everything that shows lack of courtesy toward others is rude.


If you would be thought likable, don't nudge or paw or finger people. Don't hold hands or walk-arm-about-waist in public. Don't allow anyone to paw you. Petting is cheap--and pawing common. Don't hang on anyone for support, unless necessary! Don't walk across a ballroom floor swinging your arms. Don't talk or laugh loudly enough to attract attention, and on no account force yourself to laugh. Nothing is flatter than laughter that is lacking in mirth. If you laugh only because there is something irresistibly funny, the chances are that your laugh will be irresistible too. In the same way, a smile should be spontaneous, because you feel happy, and pleasant. Nothing has less allure than a mechanical grimace, as though you were trying to imitate a toothpaste advertisement. 


Say that to a roomful of today's teens. Hehe. Wait, do I hear crickets chirping?

Adventures In Country Living: Homemade Soap

I decided to make soap. From scratch. And it sounded like a really good idea. A fun, simple activity that shouldn't be too hard to screw up. I watched a video on making soap that seemed easy enough. After watching it a few more times, I was confident. If they could do it, I could do it. Simple as that, right?

The first thing I had to do was order the lye from a soap making company. It came in really intimidating containers with hazard warnings all over it. I knew it was caustic which meant it would burn if I got it on my skin. Not intimidating in the slightest *cough*. Insert cheesy Christmas apron and bright blue rubber gloves. I was certain I could handle this without a trip to the ER.

So once I got all the rest of my various oils, fragrances, and other necessities like molds, spoons, pot, etc., I was ready to go. I timed my soap making adventure to take place during the kids' naps so no harm would befall them, and once they were snoozing away, I set up all the supplies outside so I wouldn't breathe the fumes.

I was ready to go.

All my ingredients were carefully weighed (not measured) and all that was left to do was snap on my rubber gloves and face the dreaded container of lye. After a mini pep talk and a few heart palpitations, I opened the lid and poured it into the bowl. Add the lye to the water only, not the other way around. I kept repeating this to myself as I went through the motions. Immediately, as expected, the pot steamed as the lye heated up the water in a cloud of funky smelling solution. And of course I think I got some on my rubber gloves.

Why is it that once you get in a position where you can't touch anything, every surface on your body starts itching? I sort of wiggled and tried to psych myself out of the crazies as I stirred the mixture, thankful for my rubber gloves. I don't know if it actually happened or if it was just a result of being over neurotic, but I was certain that a drop of lye got on my skin. In a moment of sheer panic, I poured white vinegar on it (as the video instructed) and hurried inside to rinse it all off. My husband, who was sort of poking around, seemed slightly worried for my health and sanity. Once I assured him that I was a highly trained professional and the incident required no medical attention, he seemed only more worried. He may have hovered after this point.

Back outside, I added the rest of the ingredients, coconut and olive oil, to name a few. This is a good point to mention that the video highly recommended using an immersion blender. Well I didn't have an immersion blender and thinking that I would just do it the "old fashioned way", figured it wouldn't really matter. If our ancestors could do it without an immersion blender, so could I. Stirring with a wooden spoon would just take longer. That's OK, I thought, I've got plenty of time.

Fast forward an hour and a half. I'm still standing there with my stupid snowman apron, stupid blue gloves and stupid wooden spoon...waiting for the famous "tracing" to occur--the point when the mixture has thickened properly. It was here that I learned that talking to a pot of soap and begging it to trace will not actually make it happen. Eventually my soap sort of traced (shhh, don't tell) and I decided to call it good enough. I dumped in pumpkin pie spice, yummy fall fragrances and some oats for exfoliation, stirred it together, and poured the mixture into my well-greased mold to set. After that, I cut it and left it to cure for several weeks.

Of course since tracing didn't actually occur, my mixture was still quite warm and down the road, when we used the first bar, I realized the oats had sort of cooked. Lovely. Just the effect I was going for. So now, I have a lifetimes supply of apple and oatmeal scented soap that is rather homely. But honestly, it works quite well. So if you know me, don't be surprised when you get a bar at Christmas. And when you discover my mushy oat mistake, please just smile and pretend like you didn't read this.

Farewell, Television...

So we have officially gone five months without a TV in our home. Well, the TV is still there but its not hooked up to anything except our trusty VCR.

Now, rewind five months….

As my husband and I discussed the pros and cons of having television, we realized this would mean no more American Idol. No more Top Chef or HGTV or Outdoor Channel. No more…cartoons. GASP! What would we do without a TV? Well, we decided, we’d save a lot of money each month. We did the math, in four years it would be several thousand dollars. I can’t think of a single hour that I've spent watching TV that changed my life. I can’t get a single one of those hours back. And if I reached the end of my life and was given the opportunity to have all that time back, I would take it in a heartbeat.

I remember sitting there watching one of my favorite shows and thinking, what am I doing? If there had been a mirror right there, know what I would have seen? Me, sitting on the couch without moving, staring at the box across from me. Wow. Impressive.

We saw this as our chance. Not only to unplug, but to spend more time as a family. More time getting real stuff done and living life instead of watching others do it. 

Our routine has been to let the kids watch about ½ an hour a day, while missing some days all together. No TV, no problem. We’ve got plenty of good videos for the kids and the library provides extra variety. Plus, there's just way too many fun things to fill up a kid's day than cartoons. Now when the kids go down to bed at eight, instead of one of us plopping on the couch and choosing something off the DVR, my husband and I turn to each other and one of us always asks, “What do you want to do tonight?”

And we hang out.

We talk. Sometimes we both have projects to keep us busy. Sometimes we watch a movie. My new favorite thing we do is read aloud to each other. I love falling asleep to the sound of my husband reading to me from one of his books, or better yet, his Bible. And the other night, I read a couple pages from Thunder Dog and my husband laid there, listening to the real life account of escapees in a stairwell in the World Trade Center.

Of course we could have been watching Lady Gaga do something life-changing on American Idol…tempting, but I think we’ll stick with what we’ve got!

The Pages of My Journal

I keep a journal. I've kept one for as long as I can remember...all the way back to that little book with the gold colored lock and tiny key I kept hidden away in my room when I was a girl.

I've saved every journal I've ever filled. Now, the one sitting on my dresser contains memories from my first son's birth and then my daughter's and everything in between. I've taped memories inside: ticket stubs from a special date with my husband, the little greeting card that came with a gift of flowers from an illness, tracings of my son's feet and hands when he sat with me one night, watching me scribble away. With a broken heart, I've torn pages out of my journal and watched days best forgotten scatter like the wind. It is a record of my life. The good moments. The everyday memories that I couldn't risk forgetting. The not so good.

Every so often, I flip back through my journal and remember where the adventures of life began. I did just this last night. And each time, it nearly takes my breath away. I am once again awed by God's steadfastness in every area of my life. My journal has been a journey of faith. Through ups and downs, I continually see the same thing repeated; God is in control. And each time I scribble that phrase, or its many variations, I know--I believe--that pages and pages down the road of life, I will flip back and think to myself, Yes, He certainly was!

Character Quality: Meek

In the age of pop culture where spunky go-getters are incredibly popular, I am still a fan of the meek woman. I think many of us when confronted with that odd little word have the simple reaction of substituting the "M" for a "W."

But there is a great difference between a woman who is weak and one who is meek. Allow me to explain.

You're looking at the very pretty Hattie Morahan who plays Elinor Dashwood in the BBC series Sense and Sensibility. I know, you've heard it from me before but its one of my favorite movies. This is why...

Elinor was meek.

The bible calls those who are meek blessed. (Matthew 5)

It does not say passive.
It does not say pitiful.
It does not say doormat

It says blessed.

In Sense and Sensibility. Elinor Dashwood loved a man. Her sister Marianne also loved a man. Both sisters loved and lost. Yet one embraced the realization with meekness and a humble spirit, no doubt relying on the truth that her fate was in the hands of the One who created her. The other stitched her heart to her sleeve, parading her distress for all to see and feel and was so self-consumed with her own misery, that she forgot anyone else existed in the world.

It isn't until the end of the story that Marianne speaks to her older sister about her regrets of her relationship with the wretched Mr. Willoubhy whom she nearly married.

Elinor asks, "Do you compare your conduct to his?"

Marianne replies, "No. I compare it with what it ought to have been; I compare it with yours."

There is something attractive about a woman who is meek. Though she is not loud in her ways, she accomplishes much. She is a safe haven for the hurting. A glow to those who are lost. A warmth of understanding and maturity. Wise words come from her lips and sound council can be found in her friendship.

Because she does not live in fear. She stands fast in the promises of God:

"LORD, You have heard the desire of the humble; You will prepare their heart; You will cause Your ear to hear, To do justice to the fatherless and the opressed..." (Psalms 10)

Photo credit: Sense and Sensibility (BBC), 2008

Don't Be A Stagnant Writer: 5 Helpful Tips

Write with purpose and be flexible. It's important to have a game plan in mind. There's much to be said for well thought out character outlines and scene summaries. I have plenty of them on hand. But sometimes its just plain OK to hit the keyboard with reckless abandon, with no destination in sight. Crank up the radio and channel the inspiration that fell in your lap earlier in the day. Have fun with it. Be crazy. Don't edit. I've written some of my best scenes this way and talk about an adrenaline rush. In a nerdy, writer, sort of way ;)

Play with different genres. I know writers hear all the time to "pick a genre and stick to it." Wise advice, to be certain when building a platform and readership, but when it comes to just you, your writing space and imagination, feel free--better yet--take the liberty to play around with different story ideas, time periods and locations. I mostly write historical fiction. Petticoats, wagons and butter churns pretty much make up my world, so to keep from losing my mind, I allow myself to play with crazy plots as they hit me. Recently I put down two chapters of a contemporary suspense-kidnapping-romance. Might not jive with the whole Appalachian brand thing, but it sure was fun and it helped stretch my writing muscles and was a ton of fun to hash out. And one never knows...wait do I smell a future Christy Award? Kidding!

Get critiqued. And I don't mean by anybody. Your mom, aunt or grandma do not count. Because one of those ladies just might think that Daisy Lou Starlight is a great name for your heroine. *hand to forehead*

Get critiqued by someone (better yet several someones) who knows the ins, outs, ups and downs of good writing. Yep, it'll sting. I sort of think it's supposed to. Kind of like a really tough workout. You might not feel so great while your in the middle of that seventh treadmill mile, but your body will thank you for it later. So will your book...and your agent and your editor. And mind you, not all critique groups (or critique partners) are created equal. I've had my moments of tears. But those moments were few and far between. Equipped with a little discernment and a learners heart (read that last part five times), you will find your writing and storytelling grow in ways you never thought possible.

Learn from what you read. Didn't like that last beach flick? Thought that mystery was some of the greatest writing ever? Don't just put the book aside with a satisfied sigh (or fling it at the wall). Let it marinate. Shoot, take notes if you want to. I typically analyze everything I read and when a line stands out at me as being totally amazing, I take a moment to figure out why and how. What makes it so special? What's the writer doing here. It's not just luck...it's a craft. And if a story line isn't doing it for you, study the characters--is something about them bugging you? Is the plot just going nowhere? Too many pet phrases? Take note for your own writing on what to avoid and what to embrace.

To take things one step further, if a book has a strong impact on me--whether good or bad--I sometimes look it up on amazon and read some reviews. This helps me gain a little outside perspective. Maybe readers agree with me, maybe not. But it's helpful to know what others think. What makes them tick. Could very well be the same readers that rate your novel one day. So their opinions carry a good bit of weight.

Learn from the pros. Last but definitely not least. I've chatted recently with other writers about my journey toward publication (which might I add is getting REALLY close! But that's a whole 'nother post) Anywho, the best advice I can usually give is to READ BLOGS. Yes, read blogs by the pros. Agents. Editors. Authors. You name it, if its good, read it, study it and see how you can apply it to your own writing and career. Think of it as a free creative writing and marketing education. I can't tell you how many times in the past I read blog posts or articles on how to write the perfect pitch. Then how to write the perfect query. Proposal. And so on and so on. There is a wealth of information on the web (and in many fabulous books). Take advantage of it. Learn. Learn. Learn.

I'd love to hear what advice and tips you all have to keep from being a stagnant writer!

First Home School Days

Well we have officially begun home schooling. Yet isn't home schooling something so many moms do? Whether they send their kids to school or teach them at home? I think so. Playing blocks, coloring, learning numbers and letters and so many other activities are really teaching our children, so the transition into official schooling can be a smooth one.

We've casually done preschool up until now. Levi, who will be five in November has had trouble with numbers. Right now he has just mastered counting up to the number twelve. Some kids that I know of can count much higher by this age and at first I was worried because Levi really struggle in this area (sometimes making me want to bang my head against the table) but once I realized it was OK to slow down, it took the pressure off of both of us. And trying to work with a stressed out mommy is no fun for any child. It was time for a change.

We made a game by cutting out small pieces of cardboard and I spread them out in the center of the living room. Levi had so much fun jumping from one number to the next (whichever number I called out) like a frog on lilly pads. Other times I'd do a scavenger hunt by placing the cards in a special spot and after telling Levi what number I needed, he'd race off and find it. There was lots of laughing, high fives and woohooing as we played these games. And for a squiggly, wiggly, four-year-old, counting and numbers became a pleasant time again.

On the other hand, when it came to letters, I hardly had to try. He just naturally picked it up. Now we're working on sight words and he's picking those up just as quick. Once I realized that he knew about 20 words, I made him his own little book out of construction paper. I printed off sentences that included the words he knew, simple things like "Levi and Mabry run." or "I said truck." (I taught him a couple extra words like truck, dog, his name and sister's name, and a few others to make the storybook a little more possible.) He loves that he can read what the little book says and has such fun reading it with his grandma or dad and showing them what he's learned.

In all this, I'm learning just as much as he is. A joy of home schooling is that I can pace Levi differently in the various subjects so he's learning at a comfortable rate with enough of a challenge to find his successes thrilling. And his two-year-old sister insists on learning along with us. She hates being left out. So even though she's just a tiny tot, she wants me to show her the flash cards and I'll help her say them back. She thinks it's so fun to be doing what brother is doing and it makes it so much easier to have her close and participating so I don't have to worry about what trouble she might be getting into somewhere else in the house. Most of the time, though, she keeps busy scribbling on scratch paper. And her brother has the most generous heart. He admires her wild scrawling and points out what he sees. "Look, May. You made a boat." And my favorite was when he said..."You made a beaver tail, good job!"

Oh, and I almost forgot about the picture above! I grew up reading the Little House books and have been waiting for the right time to read them to the kids. I wasn't sure how well they'd get into a story with so few pictures, but they love sitting down each day and reading several pages and it gives Levi and I a special time to simply chat about what we're reading. He can ask questions and it's a great opportunity to explain history and pioneer life. And my time of having my children at home with me is only going to be a season. I'm so thankful to have them with me, learning, laughing and being together as a family.

Summer Garden Goodness

Just for fun, I thought I'd share some pictures from this years garden.

 


Hollyhocks growing along the deck.

Our wedding arbor over the garden gate adds cheer and a snug place for flowers to grow.

Rhubarb needing plenty of elbow room. One of my favorite things to grow. Diced rhubarb, cooked down with sugar. It makes a fabulous pie and cobbler filling or topper for pankaces!

 

First tomatos of the season :) We've already made salsa from a huge batch of tomatos that were given to us. I like mine with one jalapeno per batch. My mama likes three. I made sure to remember which container was hers :D

Sunflowers right after the rain.
















Yarrow and mint
drying in the kitchen

Adventures in Country Living: Butter

I know that's a picture of pie, but my jar of butter didn't turn out to be so photogenic so the pie took center stage. But there will be pie in this post. Buttermilk pie...allow me to elaborate.

There is a handy blog out there by the "West Ladies" that I enjoy perusing for homesteading ideas and tips. They've also put together a wonderful collection of DVD's for everything from The Art of Soapmaking to The Art of Canning and I've been wanting to make their recipe for "Grandma's Buttermilk Pie" which not only calls for a cup of buttermilk, but also offers a super simple method for making butter. Yum! So here we go....

Butter Recipe
3 cups heavy cream at room temp
1 quart Jar
Willing shakers

Pour cream into jar. Shake.
Easy as (buttermilk) pie!

I used a quart size canning jar but you could use any large jar that has a tightly sealing lid. The kids were eager to help and when my husband (aka the worlds best cream shaker) saw what we were doing, he jumped in to try it. But the jar got really full, making it difficult to shake. We realized that the cream was just thickening and expanding into a runny version of coolwhip Something wasn't right. It was then that I remembered the one important rule--the cream needs to be at room temp. Oops. The recipe has ONE ingredient and I still managed to screw it up! Our jar was cool to the touch but after running it under some warm water for a few seconds, the fat instantly separated from the liquid and we suddenly had a large mound of butter!

I think the heavens might have parted at that moment, but maybe that was just me overly excited.

But then my husband (let's just call him Noah from here on out) got a call. Our neighbor down the street needed help beheading a turkey. Talk about random--and a little gruesome--my apologies. It was actually pretty ironic. I wondered how many wives and husbands didn't have that conversation this week. "As much fun as I'm having churning butter little lady, duty calls."

So turkey-killer and I parted ways and I set to work draining off the buttermilk. After reading that too much liquid left in the butter can ruin it, I was nervous about not being able to get it all out and probably only got a B+ so next time I will strain it really well through cheesecloth. But for now, we were thrilled. Especially my husband. We stood in our kitchen after the kids went to bed, spreading homemade butter on last nights biscuits, dolloped with spoonfulls of some pie filling I had made the week before--rhubarb, strawberries and butter never tasted so good! We leaned against the kitchen sink, devouring our late night snack as he filled me in on the details of his--er--own adventure across the street. When he finished, I told him I was going to do some canning with Mrs. Turkey-killer after church (hi Robyn :])

He started laughing and said, "We're such rednecks."

I think something about me being barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen rounded out the moment :D
Happy Homesteading.

P.S. Buttermilk Pie...two thumbs up! Please don't make fun of my crust, I worked very hard, haha. And I used an AMAZING recipe by Ina Garten from the food network.
Also, visit Homestead-blessings.com for the recipes and much more.

Yea Though I Walk Through The Valley

The LORD is my shepherd;

I shall not want.

He makes me to lie down in green pastures;

He leads me beside the still waters.

He restores my soul;

He leads me in the paths of righteousness

For His name’s sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil;

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies;

You anoint my head with oil;

My cup runs over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will dwell in the house of the LORD

Forever. (Psalms 23)

The 23rd Psalm has never had much impact on me before. Aside from memorizing it as a child with my parents help, I just thought it had something to do with a Shepherd his staff and something about lying beside still waters. I just never quite got it. Until now.

The valley of the shadow of death is a very real place. For those who find themselves in the valley, away from the mountain tops and sunlight, take comfort that it is something we walk through--not around in aimlessly, not back and forth...but through. There is a beginning to it which can feel the darkest, but there is also an end. And though it may feel that way at times, we are never alone.

It is not a place of abandonment--God is there to be our comfort. And though it is so hard to see, we will not be the same as we were in the beginning. With each step, God does a work to transform us. To strengthen us. To bring us closer to him.

To God be the glory.

Fantasy Fiction: A Driving Passion

 Guest post by writer and editor
Dona L. Watson

Behind God and family, fantasy fiction is one of my driving passions--one of the key factors that makes up who I am. Why fantasy? It might be for the brief escape from life gained from a few minutes of reading. It might be the way vast cultures and races designed by talented authors intrigue me. Regardless, I love the way fantasy fiction captures my imagination, poking me, prodding my thoughts toward something I’ve never before considered. To me, that is pure brain candy.

I know that to some Christians, fantasy fiction is frowned upon as a venture too far from reality to be healthy. In fact, not all see fiction itself as being wholesome in any way, but instead consider it to be simply a lie--as evidenced by scathing essays and posts that can be easily found on the internet. To those people, I would say, “Consider Christ’s parables.” Jesus Christ himself understood, in all of his wisdom, the explosive power a story can have on the human soul. Sometimes a story can capture our interest in ways that true life--or dryly recited principles--never can.

This is particularly true with our younger generation. Young people are so easily entranced by a good story. And this is where children of God can make a real difference in someone else’s life. Fantasy stories in particular capture young minds in ways no other types of stories can. I’m not talking about gritty, sensual fiction, but stories filled with action, intrigue, and light. What an opportunity we have to point others to Christ--the ultimate source of light in this increasingly darkening world. As examples, I point to such fantasy authors as Bryan Davis, Wayne Thomas Batson, Sharon Hinck and others who have successfully captured our emotions and minds and then redirected us toward God and his precepts. Oh, that someday I might add my humble work toward achieving the same goal. Hence springs my love, my passion for fantasy fiction.


I think the same arguments apply to fiction of all types, particularly inspirational fiction. I would say to those of you who are writers, we all have the opportunity to embrace the passion and let our lights shine! Are you with me?

http://fantasyandfaith.com/

Five Must-Have Writer’s Tools

Guest blog post by author Beverly Nault

I took a poll of authors I know, and asked them “What resources do you keep at your fingertips?” Here are the top five.


1. Chicago Manual of Style, Fifteenth Edition – considered the go-to twelve-pounder on all things punctuation, this is the editing tool that will make you look and feel like a pro. Excellent for building upper body strength and solving every question about commas, split infinitives and when to use a semicolon. All right, it’s only three pounds, but worth its weight in royalties. Wait, did I punc that right? Lift and curl.

2. Revision & Self-Editing by James Scott Bell. Alongside his Plot & Structure, these twins from the Writer’s Digest Write Great Fiction series are not only fun and easy to read of themselves, their advice and techniques have transformed many a dull, hard-to-follow manuscript into blockbusters.

3. Flip Dictionary by Barbara Ann Kipfer. Subtitled, “For when you know what you want to say but can’t think of the word,” this gem is a cross between a thesaurus and an antonym/synonym dictionary. The Flip suggests alternates for boring words or clichés. The author also includes terrific lists like, “Horse Related Terms” and “Currencies of the World.”

4. Better than Great by Arthur Plotnik. I just got my copy, but I’d heard so much about this new guide from the great Plotnik I pre-ordered, and now I’m studying it from cover to cover. He’s not only compiled superlatives that are fun to read, he teaches how to combine phrases and expressions in new ways to go beyond merely awesome. Jaw-breakingly amazing (p 57).

5. www.thebookshelfmuse.blogspot.com/ Angela Ackerman and Becky Puglisi’s site discusses topics such as “how to describe a tornado” and “character and emotional traits” in their fantastic thesaural lists. You can click through for inspiration and creative ways to describe colors, weather, nature, people. I’m hoping they’ll compile it into book format soon.

Bonus Material! Before you go, here’s a site I’m learning to use myself:

6. www.behindthename.com, a clever site to find the perfect character name.

What are you dog-earing or clicking on to support your writing? We’d love to hear from you. Thanks to the authors and editors of Lamp Post Publications www.lamppostpubs.com for the assist! @lamppostpubs and @bevnault

Bloopers and Blunders of a Wannabe Author



"I'm just a cotton headed ninny muggins."

"You're not a cotton headed ninny muggins...You're just special."


Poor Buddy the elf. I know just how he feels.

How so? Well, I've decided something--aspiring authors can sometimes be rather spastic people. Or for the sake of this blog post, "special." I mean, we've got all this penned up energy, all these stories darting around in our brains while trying to squeeze through this funnel that leads to the world of publication. So at times (due to all that creative energy and darn emotional drive) we tend to be more of a menace to society than a pulled together professional. Ever had one of those moments? The moment when any decorum (or coolness) you may have had dissipated quicker than you could say "elevator pitch."

Boy, have I ever. So just for fun, and for all you out there who've ever accidentally traded your brief case for a dunce cap, I've decided to share a few of my own writing bloopers and blunders.


1.  So when I first starting sending out query letters, I printed them on this really nice ivory paper. Nothing wrong with that. But then I decided to get crafty and use my little embosser I got at the scrapbook store and make a pretty little header on top with scrolly things and a flower. Apparently, I thought my crafty touches would secure me an instant contract. It didn't. Fortunately I showed restraint before pulling out the stickers and puffy paint--but not before drawing, then scanning, my own personal logo that I so professionally designed and printed on each query letter. Beginning to see the whole wanna be author on the loose thing? Oh, it gets worse.

2.  Many moons ago, at one of my first signings for a little book I had, an old family friend (someone whom I've known practically since birth) came to buy one. I pulled out a fresh copy of the book and my little sharpie marker, then went to personalize it.

Except I just stared blankly at the page, wracking my brain for this person's name. For the life of me, I couldn't remember.

I asked them--this person I'd known since birth--who I should make it out to. They suggested I make it out to them and their spouse.

Oh.

Now at this point, I desperately wanted to dive under the table but I'd probably smack my head and knock myself out and I really didn't want the bookstore owner to have to call 911 on my behalf. Besides, as a close family friend this person would probably have offered to ride in the back of the ambulance with me and hold my hand while I iced the lump on my head the size of a cantaloupe AND I still wouldn't have been able to remember their name. Hmmm, at least I'd have an excuse. Tempting...

I decide to forgo the diving under the table opportunity and proceeded to stare blankly at the page awaiting personalization. Finally, I asked, "How do you spell your name?" And (of course) they said, "Just like it sounds."

Uh.

At that moment, this sweet, kind, patient person spelled out their name and the light bulb went on. I may have been sweating bullets by then, but if they noticed, they showed nothing but gratitude for the book.


3:  At a writer's conference recently, I had an appointment to meet with one of my absolute favorite authors. I was really excited. Beyond excited, because I'd been planning on meeting with this person for months and had all these questions I was just dying to ask.

So. I had my time mentally recorded when I began chatting with another writer friend during a free moment. She told me about her upcoming appointments and somehow my (spastic-wannabe-author-on-the-loose) brain decided to convert her time to mine. Long story short, I suddenly realized that I had missed my meeting so I rushed (OK, I practically ran--if you're envisioning me in my ridiculous black high-heels catapulting myself through the facility, business cards flying out behind me like a cloud of dust...you're not too far off). I missed the meeting and with a broken lil' writer's heart, mopped my brow and probably went in search of the snack table to drown my sorrows. I hear they invented this thing called pen and paper--they say its handy for writing things down. Who'da thought?


4.  The VERY first time I called my agent, it went to her voicemail and I was so nervous I blurted out, "Hi Suzanne, this is Sandra."

Instant Replay: "Hi Suzanne, this is Sandra."

eh em.

My agents name would be Sandra and my name would be Joanne.

Apparently I confused her with my mother-in-law, then proceeded to steal her identity. Oh, and then I sat without speaking for probably five seconds, no doubt breathing into the phone like a stalker, debating whether or not to hang up. Then I remembered this little thing called caller ID (and how to converse in the English language) and quickly left the shortest, most pitiful message I could manage before hanging up. Yeah. Great way to kick off that professional agent/author relationship.

Well that was painful, but I feel like I got a lot off my chest ;) Feel free to share you're own bloopers and blunders. I'd love to know that there are others out there who've lost all sense and reason at least one time or another! Oh and the next time you bump into a writer aspiring toward publication, be patient...they're a little special.

Photo credit: Elf, 2003

The Writer's Torch: Beverly Nault

**Leave a comment below for a chance to win a free copy!

About Fresh Start Summer: Friendships, old and new, find fresh beginnings when Cherryvale's extreme makeover transforms the peaceful town to an exciting movie location. Grace Harkins, a muffin-baking, bike-riding, retired teacher can't wait to be an extra for the movie filming in Cherryvale. But when outspoken Maggie protests the "biz" invading, suspicious fires break out, strangers lurk and threatening phone calls force Grace to choose between her carefree retirement and saving a friendship in real danger.

Author Beverly Nault shares her inspiration behind her series, The Seasons of Cherryvale:
Pastors lament “mature” Christians can be the toughest to keep engaged of a Sunday morning. Pretty sure they mean me. Throw down the same old phrases, stale lessons and sermon illustrations I’ve heard all my life, and I’ll pull out the cell phone, search for a cool app, or attack those birds.


And if I hear that starfish in the ocean story one more time…sheesh!

But tell me a joke, or better yet, an interesting story…can I just say I pity the PF (pastor’s family)? Apparently they have zero expectation of privacy. Because our pastor uses his kids a lot in stories. Good stories, mind you, but a lot.

Anywho, if I sense a good story beginning, I pause the game, sit up and listen.

Because a fresh story (ha! I knew I could get my brand in there), and especially something that makes me laugh, is worth paying attention to. Many pastors are genius at this. Do they offer “Telling Good Story 101” in seminary? They should, because guess Who told the best? Yep. Jesus. Ding, ding! Thanks for playing.

Too many things holler for my attention and I know you’re the same. I mean, just this week we had season finales of both “Dancing With the Stars” and “American Idol.” Not saying I watched the premiere of “The Bachelorette,” but what was with the guy in the mask, anyway? Even if you’re not a television watcher, you’re busy homeschooling and running ministries and feeding the homeless and…you see my point. Us writer-types must give you a reason to put down that remote, shut off CNN…ahem, Fox News, and take a much-needed break. And maybe, just maybe, become a little closer to the Lord.
 
When I download, order, buy, or borrow a book at my library (do librarians intimidate you, or is it just me?), I want stories that give me a chance to know what it’s like to live in someone else’s skin for a little while. But it’s more than that.


For instance, I love a good armchair adventure. Most specifically the ones where people give up everything and tour the world on pocket-change and hospitality, living by their wits. Makes me feel as if I’m hiking or backpacking or riding that camel along with them. Or a story about someone who moves to a foreign country, learns the language, buys an old ruin (that’s what they call a fixer in Europe) and starts a new life with new neighbors and new customs. But I can’t do that. Correction. I would never do that. So I read about these brave adventurers. Or missionaries. Yeah, they do that, too. Even harder, because they’re often in personal danger. Yikes. God bless them.


How does faith inform what I write? I want to write what I’d like to read, and as a lifelong Christian, I don’t want to be re-instructed when I read for pleasure. After all, you’re probably like me. When faith becomes second-nature, it’s not as if you pause and wonder, “Gee, what is the scripture that applies to this?” like a matching test: “Connect life-dilemma in column A to Scripture in Column B” kind of thing. And I don’t believe that’s what most people want to read, either.


I intentionally populate my stories with relatable, real people facing life and handling crises through the lens of faith. Organic to who they are as believers. Even the town they live in reflects their, and our, eternal destination.


Cherryvale, the fictional setting of Fresh Start Summer, is a little closer to the ideal; shall I say, closer to heaven? I have to spend a lot of time there, so I wanted to built a community where I wanted to go. And return to often.

It’s a little prettier, a little kinder. We need a brief escape from our world with its bankruptcies and unemployment and floods, tornadoes…you get my drift.

Like I said, the people are real. They have their quirks, their warts and their challenges. Some of them are even a bit, well, flawed. Stories wouldn’t be interesting without imperfect people, even Christians.

And conflict. Because that’s how we grow in our faith. Think a mash-up of Mayberry and Wisteria Lane. (Not that I’m hooked on “Desperate Housewives” or anything.)

For just pocket change and a few hours in a comfy chair, I want you to experience the hospitality, warmth and long hugs from the people of Cherryvale. And see what it’s like in someone else’s shoes. Someone who is similar, but not exactly the same. Someone you can relate to, but perhaps who sees things differently than you do. Or you might argue with them over their choices, cheer for their triumphs, hurt for them when they’re in pain.

Can I get an Amen?

I pray my stories bring joy, hope, make you giggle, and that you’re refreshed and ready to face the world with a little more energy and perhaps a little pizzazz. That you’re inspired to deal with some old baggage—if that’s needed—in your relationships (be honest, if you’re older than Kindergarten, chances are good some repairs need to be made.) And perhaps challenged to begin a hobby, step out in ministry or re-visit a dream long ago abandoned.

I pray my stories help you walk closer to Christ, reflect His joy in all you do and say. And to find fresh beginnings in His love. That’s my prayer, and that’s why I write.


Beverly's website:
http://www.beverlynault.com/

Book Giveaway:
To enter for a chance to win a free copy of Fresh Start Summer, simply leave a comment below. The winner will be chosen and announced here on June 20th, so please check back Or follow via  facebook to be automatically notified :]

*book will be reserved on winners behalf for three weeks, after that time a runner up will be selected.

A Case of Sour Grapes

Jealousy. A word that's green with envy and a little bitter to swallow. A word that most of us have been familiar with at one point of our lives or another. I got hit with a case of it recently. I stumbled upon an author awhile back with a book contract I would have probably sold my left patella for and a series of the most beautiful book covers I've ever seen. Instead of being happy for them, I plopped down on the floor and cried "Why them, God? Why not me?" Me, me, me, me.

Ew. It was rather unattractive.

But I was frustrated. Really frustrated. Have you ever had that feeling? It was hard not to throw my hands in the air and count off all the reasons why I should be as fortunate as them and who are they to... yeah, like I said, pretty unattractive. It was at that moment I halted in my tracks. What I felt was wrong. Very wrong. And suddenly, the only emotion I felt was shame...OK, I'll admit, the jealousy was still lurking in the shadows. So I asked, "God, what do I do about this? It's not right to feel this way."

Then the answer came--the way to cure a case of sour grapes:

I added this person to my prayer list.

Yep, you heard me.

Beyond their name, pretty book covers and 3 book contract, I really have no idea who they are. I don't know anything about them. I don't know how hard they worked to get to where they are or how many hours were spent on their knees talking to God about their hopes and dreams or how excited their family and loved ones were when the big "call" came through that a publishing house had offered a deal. 

But here I was, pouting about their success. So I did what I felt God calling me to do and I immediately began to pray for them. And I continue to pray for that person until this day. Whenever they pop into my head, I immediately lift them up to the throne of grace and pray for God's hand to continue to bless their life and writing career.

And you know what? The jealousy vanished. And if ever there is a moment where it tries to creep back in, I turn right around and spend those moments that I could have wasted stewing about how others have it "better" than I do, into a time of worshiping my God and trusting that he knows what books need to be published a WHOLE lot better than I do, and thanking him for the lives that have been touched through that very special author.

Encouragement For Mothers: Little Helpers

As my husband and I are raising our two (soon to be three) children, there are a few character traits we have made a priority to instill in them: self control, patience, cheerfulness and being helpful. We've found that we have had the greatest success in training them up to have these traits in their hearts by teaching with example and keeping them close to us as we go about our daily lives--which means we have had to teach ourselves how to keep these traits front and center in our hearts and countenance (not always easy, but the more we work and learn in our own spirits, it continues to grow in our family).

There have been times, particularly early on in my mothering that I wanted to shoo a little one off. "Go play with your toys, mommy's busy. I really need to get this done." Now while I'm sure that still pops out of my mouth here and there (particularily when trying to meet a writing deadline!) I have tried to give my attitude a mega adjustment and see those little hands as being helpful while recognizing an opportunity to have my children work alongside me, whether it be in the kitchen, garden, etc. A valuable chance to not only teach them what I am doing, but to listen and talk with them. To spend time with them. And busy little hands helping mommy have a lot harder time getting into trouble, then little hands left on their own somewhere else in the house!

My daughter recently turned two and I cannot be in the kitchen, whether its making a PB&J or a batch of cookies without her scooting a chair over, nabbing her little apron from the drawer, climbing up and seeing how she can watch and help. This brings her joy. Her favorite tasks are dumping ingredients that I've measured into the bowl and stirring. She's also my champion tortilla roller outer. Give that girl a rolling pin and she's one hot senorita in the kitchen.

Recently, after about an hour of working in the garden with my four-year-old son, I turned to him and asked, "What would you rather do? Play with toys or help mommy do a project." Now this wasn't a trick question and I was certain of his answer--toys. But he surprised me. After a moments thought, he turned to me and said, "helping mommy with projects."

I couldn't believe it. So much of our culture today instills into our minds that our children need every toy on the market and millions of DVD's to keep content and be entertained. When in reality, they just want to be loved. They want to be noticed, appreciated and helpful. They want to look up into an adult face and hear the words, "You did an awesome job. I couldn't have done it without your help." And to parents with younger children, take advantage of that window while its still wide open.

There were a few life choices that helped. My husband and I have always talked about having very few battery-operated toys. We didnt want our children always seeking entertainment. Plastic tools, little shovels and rakes, balls, trucks, tractors, puzzles, books, and cooking utensils for mud pies and leaf soup are what our children have had since they were tiny tots. People sometime comment on my son who is always eager to jump out and dig in the snow or the dirt or to help an adult fix something. And I always say "Tools are his toys. This is his favorite thing to do."

While my children get plenty of time for free play everyday, hours in fact now that its beautiful and sunny out, we always manage to come together here and then to work side-by-side which is where so much of their schooling and learning takes place. And the results are a parent's greatest reward. Just the other day, while the kids were in the back yard having fun all on their own, I looked out to see that my son had hopped off his swing and was standing their giving his sister a few minutes of good-pushing time on her own swing. I saw then and there, that to be helpful is now a part of his heart. He's learning to value the time he spends with his sister and to think of how he can serve others, not grudgingly, but with a laughing, four-year-old heart.