tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76004907190007805412024-03-19T07:00:57.550-04:00Books and BabiesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-64354512911919837702016-12-12T09:51:00.000-05:002016-12-12T09:51:53.270-05:00Standing Against SatanDuring my Bible study this morning, I came across something that I felt called to share. It spoke to me personally, and I hope that it speaks to you as well. So here goes...<br />
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I just read a devotional about Satan and his schemes against believers. It may not be a popular subject (and is often laughed at), but Satan IS indeed real, as are demons. The Bible speaks of them often. And yes, the Devil really does interfere in our lives in tangible ways. It can be minor or major, but it happens. <br /><br />For the past week or so, Satan has been working his magic in my own life. Causing me to doubt myself, snap (okay, let's be real...<i>yell</i>) at my kids, lose motivation, become extremely discouraged with my career, and on and on. I've been a mess. <br /><br />I'd forgotten how much I have to be thankful for. I was becoming bitter...and for no good reason.<br /><br />Now, don't get me wrong here. I'm not saying, "The Devil made me do it." That's no excuse for my behavior <i>or</i> attitude. We're all responsible for our own actions. God has given us free will, but the Devil can certainly make it difficult to remember God's promises and commands. <br /><br />So as you go about your day, I'd just like to offer a bit of encouragement. Arm yourself with God's power against the Devil. He's already won the fight; all you have to do is give Him your battles. How? Spend time in His written Word and in prayer <i>every day</i>. When you start to get downcast or stressed out, take a step back and breathe. Find a quiet spot (or as quiet as possible if you have little ones) and pray. It doesn't have to be eloquent. God knows your pain. <div>
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<br />And keep this scripture in mind:<br /><br />"10. Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. 11. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. 12. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. 13. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. 14. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, 15. and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. 16. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.<br /><br />18 And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people." Ephesians 6:10-18.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-1439868724465718922016-05-03T22:17:00.001-04:002016-05-03T22:18:10.198-04:00Interview with DiAne Gates, Author of "Roped"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9n68HvVzRV9YSbXK32A-8YL5emGGyowlqf9sYYn6mC8i3XU4d5_iIMaaHQfGOEPKo4dwpxcmIm78Nxqg0OFDhUVzDYUnuvuSKyRWlEPgRwjzNpWmIcSQ6L9oww-lTRo4l1c65nr2vZeg/s1600/DiAne_5015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9n68HvVzRV9YSbXK32A-8YL5emGGyowlqf9sYYn6mC8i3XU4d5_iIMaaHQfGOEPKo4dwpxcmIm78Nxqg0OFDhUVzDYUnuvuSKyRWlEPgRwjzNpWmIcSQ6L9oww-lTRo4l1c65nr2vZeg/s200/DiAne_5015.jpg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>A true lady of faith, author DiAne Gates writes Young Adult Fiction and a thought-provoking, inspirational blog. Her words are wise, and her spirit is gentle. And I'm so grateful to have her visiting my blog! </b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OHPhV1zeP9LVZP36jWYR2X2eGRONBnnXcYL9qMbnsQOIvyqfWaIqVPr3KEA_np453YHnNwoSlJWzyaZt0ol3oAygQ4B3EoQ1-pLcDsmNBO6zNXsGfPJxMGxYPKhEWQIxlM1c4o80RrQ/s1600/Sunset+at+Hilton+Head+Beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3OHPhV1zeP9LVZP36jWYR2X2eGRONBnnXcYL9qMbnsQOIvyqfWaIqVPr3KEA_np453YHnNwoSlJWzyaZt0ol3oAygQ4B3EoQ1-pLcDsmNBO6zNXsGfPJxMGxYPKhEWQIxlM1c4o80RrQ/s200/Sunset+at+Hilton+Head+Beach.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>*** DiAne is giving away an e-copy of </i>Roped <i>and a trio of beautiful matted photos (pictured on the right) to one<br />lucky winner! To enter, simply comment under the interview with your answer to this question: "What's one word that comes to mind when you think of a rodeo?" *** </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Thanks for joining me today, DiAne. Your debut novel, Roped, was released in August 2015. Can you tell us about it? Maybe give away a little teaser?</i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Emily, let me thank you for having me. Yes, promotions for Roped are keeping me busy, and I believe I can speak for all authors saying the writing of a book is a cake-walk compared to the promoting…especially for me.<br /><br />“Like finger-prints at a crime scene, evidence of my bad temper coated everything I touched.” And with that short sentence, thirteen-year-old Crissy Crosby admits her one gigantic character flaw. Her temper. She knows what’s right, but practicing right, when someone bumps-your-basket, causes Crissy’s temper to slosh out on the bumpor. <i>Roped </i>takes us through a difficult time in the Crosbys' life journey. A time that threatens to destroy Crissy. Will she learn from her mistakes? Will she achieve her dreams? You’ll have to read Roped. :) These lips aren’t telling.<br /><br /><b><i>That sounds like a great story! Did I read correctly on your website that in addition to writing, you paint, garden, cook, and coach aspiring writers? That’s incredible! How do you fit it all in?</i></b><br /><br />ADD helps! But it drives my husband crazy. God gifted me with an abundance of energy, a love of life, and people, and painting, and—</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My husband tells me he can feel me wake up in the darkness of the early morning hours. Yep, before my eyelids open, my brain is racing through the events of the day. He, on the other hand, is laid back and wonderful. Good thing—two of us like me would generate banishment from our neighborhood.<br /><br />Fifteen years ago, our then twenty-eight-year-old-daughter, Michelle, went home suddenly to be with the Lord. She left behind a five-year-old daughter, a seven-month-old-son, and a grieving husband and family. For the better part of a year, I became instant mommy…again. But in the process, I learned life is a gift not to be wasted. My life verse is Hebrews 12:1-4, where the writer talks about running the race set before us…that’s all I’m doing…running the race. Running to hear my Lord say, “Well done.”<br /><br />Notice I didn’t include housework and cleaning ovens and ironing on the list. Those things aren’t fun. But what could be more fun and more rewarding than teaching teens to write? And the PageMasters are award winning writers!<br /><br /><b><i>It sounds like you stay busy! When you begin to feel overwhelmed or discouraged, what’s your solution? Do you have a certain ritual or activity that helps you refocus and re-energize?</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />Thirteen years ago, I began facilitating GriefShare, a thirteen week series of Christ-centered support for those who’ve lost loved ones. And yes, I am often overwhelmed, even discouraged, when people choose to remain stuck. Stuck in grief. Stuck in defeat. Stuck in whatever place that prevents them from seeing the gift of life and love Christ died to give us.<br /><br />When I come to those incapacitating times, I stop, lay face down on the floor, and cry out to God. Casting all my cares upon Him, because He cares for me. And He has never failed to lift my burdened heart and give me His strength, His wisdom, His…whatever I need at the moment. Because He is faithful.<br /><br /><b><i>Absolutely! What inspiring words. Speaking of inspiring words, you dedicate your blog to discussing issues facing America today. And with the coming elections, that's a hot topic. What do you think can be done to turn our country back to God?</i></b><br /><br />My blog is written mainly to the Church, because I believe the Church is the problem and is the greatest mission field in the world. If you took a poll of members leaving the sanctuary on any given Sunday, I wonder what you’d find about their knowledge and understanding of the Bible? God has written and preserved His inerrant Word for us in order for us to have a relationship with Him. And we haven’t taught His words to these younger generations, because you can’t teach what you don’t know—what you don’t practice—and what you don’t truly believe and live by.<br /><br />The fiction I write is reserved for <i>Roped</i>, and soon-to-be <i>Twisted</i>. My blog, Moving the Ancient Boundaries, uncomfortable as it may be, invites the reader to consider how far we’ve removed ourselves, our families, and our nation from the holy boundaries God set to protect not inhibit us. We’ve catapulted over those boundaries, and unless we, the Church - you and me - repent and return to the absolute truth of the Word of God and live by His Truth…there is no hope for America. Because Jesus is our only hope. He is the only Way, only truth, and only Light to salvation. <br /><br />God is Truth, and as history proves, Truth must judge nations who rebel and turn their backs on The Lord God and His Son, Jesus Christ.<br /><br /><b><i>Difficult subjects to broach, no doubt. Some may argue that if God existed, He would turn America around right now. That if He had the power to do something, He'd do it. That said, do you ever find yourself wondering why God lets certain things happen? How do you keep your faith when people around you seem to be losing theirs?</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />Michelle’s death was the pivotal point of testing my faith. She and her husband had just witnessed God do a miracle healing in the womb of their then seven-month-old, happy, healthy boy.<br /><br />Oh my, I asked all the “why” questions. I prayed for her healing and thought the heavens were brass until one morning, about a year after her death, I sat in a heap on my back patio and cried out, “God, if you’re here I really need to feel your presence.” A gentle breeze wrapped me like those warm micro-waved blankets in the emergency room, and I heard God say as clear as if He physically stood next to me, “DiAne, I did heal Michelle. But I chose to take her home to heal her.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Even writing this recount, tears fill my eyes and my heart is washed with a fresh coat of grief. Yes, after all these years, grief never goes away. Grief is the price you pay for loving someone. Do I miss her? Oh yes! Would I want her back? Oh no! She’s with her Lord. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But Deuteronomy 29:29 has been an anchor for me. I’m not going to repeat it here. I’d like you to pick up your Bible and read what God said and allow the Spirit of God to penetrate your heart with His truth, like He did mine that morning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">God’s in control. I’m not. And that’s the greatest promise and the most blessed relief I can think of. My instructions are to “run the race that is set before me…considering Christ…” I can run unhindered because He goes before and behind me and He “makes my feet like his feet.”<br /><br /><b><i>Your faith is truly an encouragement and a blessing. Thank you so much for visiting today, DiAne, and for the insight! Where can readers learn more about you and purchase your books?</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br />My blog is not for the fainthearted, but I’d love to have you join the discussion at <a href="http://dianegates.wordpress.com/">http://dianegates.wordpress.com/</a>. And feel free to email me at dianegates@sbcglobal.net or visit DiAne Gates, Author Page, on Facebook. You can purchase Roped at either <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Roped-DiAne-Gates-ebook/dp/B0147NL6KS?ie=UTF8&keywords=roped&qid=1462327346&ref_=sr_1_3&sr=8-3">Amazon.com</a> (eBook or print) or <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/roped-diane-gates/1122552723?ean=9781516890750">Barnesandnoble.com</a>. I’d love to hear from you.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Readers, don't forget to comment below with your one "rodeo word" to be entered to win a FREE digital copy of <i>Roped </i>and three of DiAne's gorgeous photos! </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>As always, happy reading!</b></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-47769273294773096722016-03-11T10:44:00.002-05:002016-03-11T10:44:54.808-05:00Magnolia Lake Release Day and Giveaway!<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: purple;">It's Magnolia Lake release day! </span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I am beyond excited and couldn't wait to share it with all of you! In honor of this special day, I'm giving away one FREE paperback copy of Magnolia Lake to someone who comments on this post. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Here's the blurb to give you an idea of what the books' about.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpesJtshhqMrF7E67uZWg9aqjBqWkoT1tY3-CBzBXYxcLF44BetCGsYh6_s3zc_sVVDNQKbFCUZwNsygMqsjQo3G7sVjgZTZNQtC4LOAjz4KvgOtlHXGcQdmbGuroV4wsiiyto11Z78_A/s1600/MagnoliaLake_Ecover+copy+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="background-color: white;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpesJtshhqMrF7E67uZWg9aqjBqWkoT1tY3-CBzBXYxcLF44BetCGsYh6_s3zc_sVVDNQKbFCUZwNsygMqsjQo3G7sVjgZTZNQtC4LOAjz4KvgOtlHXGcQdmbGuroV4wsiiyto11Z78_A/s320/MagnoliaLake_Ecover+copy+%25281%2529.jpg" width="213" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><i><b>Popular and beautiful, Cora Stephens has it all - including the perfect football-star boyfriend - until one fateful afternoon. Facing heartache and betrayal, Cora turns to long-time friend, Landon, for comfort. While his love for her grows, she does everything in her power to avoid getting hurt again - including flinging herself into the arms of another boy.</b></i></span></span><br />
<i><b style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"> </span></span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then, just as Cora’s shattered world starts putting itself back together, life throws something her way that’s more horrific than she ever could have imagined. Through the emotional and physical pain, she begins to lose hope and abandon her faith. Will this once light-hearted, happy prom queen find her way back home? </span></span></b></i><br />
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<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22.4px;">In case that peaked your interest (and because I love and appreciate all of you reading this blog), here's a little sneak peak! </span></span><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">I changed clothes and made it just in time to plop </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">down on the hard floor and get into a stretching position before the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">coach noticed. </span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Valerie must have seen something in my expression. “Looks </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">like somebody’s been up to no good.” She winked as we stretched.</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">My eyes were wide with innocence as I asked, “What do you </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">mean?”</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">“Oh, come on, Cor! Your face is all flushed,” she whispered, </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">“and you were the last one dressed. I may not have a boyfriend </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">right now, but that doesn’t mean I forgot how to read the signs. You </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">managed to fit in a quick make-out session and still get here with one </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">minute to spare!"</span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Although her accusations made me blush, the corners of my </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">mouth turned up into a mischievous grin. There was no use trying </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">to lie to her. She had a strange sixth sense about these things. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">“Well, maybe a quick one,” I answered. “But, in my defense, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">there are only so many unsupervised hours in a day. Jeff and I don’t </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">get much alone time.”</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Lacy overheard us and chimed in. “Oh, you are so lucky! To </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">have such a hot, manly guy. Mike won’t even kiss me on the cheek at </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">school. He’s so worried about what his friends will think. It drives </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">me crazy! I need a little action, ya know. A little adventure.”</span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Coach Rivers shot us a stern glance. Not wanting to be on the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">wrong side of one of Coach’s endless tirades, I focused on the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">hardwood floor, spread my legs, and continued stretching.</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">After two hours of running, dancing, and stunting, my friends </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">and I walked lethargically to our cars. When we reached Lacy’s car, </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">she hurriedly jumped in with only a quick, “See ya later,” before </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">speeding off.</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">I looked at Valerie, who gave a quick shrug of her shoulders </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">before asking, “So, Cor, wanna ride together tomorrow and go to </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">the mall after practice?” </span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">“Yeah, sounds good. I need new jeans. We can look at prom </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">dresses too! Just for fun,” I answered with excitement. “I’ll call </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Kayla and Lacy tonight. Maybe they’ll wanna meet us.” </span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">We stood in the parking lot, talking about our shopping trip </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">and which stores we wanted to visit. When we finally finished our </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">conversation fifteen minutes later, I decided to put up the top on my </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">car since the sky promised a downpour.</span></span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">I was proven right just as I exited the student parking lot and </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">the bottom suddenly fell out of the sky, producing sheets of rain </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">that caused me to immediately let my foot off the gas and turn my </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">windshield wipers up as high as possible. It had been perfectly clear </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">for most of the day. Where’d the sun go in such a short amount of </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">time?</span></span></b><br />
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<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">As I came to one of the streets I would normally take home, I </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">noticed it was closed due to a wreck. Detour signs were set up a few </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">feet before the crash site, so I turned down an unfamiliar dirt road. </span></span></span></b><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">That’s when I noticed Jeff’s truck parked on the grass to the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">right of the gravel. My heart started to pound. I knew it was his by </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">the University of Georgia sticker on the back glass. There was no </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">sign of him, but no sign he’d been involved in a crash, either—no </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">other cars, no tree limbs sticking out, nothing. But also no Jeff.</span></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></b></span>
<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">With my stomach in knots, I jerked the steering wheel and </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">rolled to a stop behind the truck. My imagination ran wild as I </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">pictured Jeff being robbed at gunpoint or something else horrific. I </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">just knew he was in a ditch somewhere, left for dead. I practically </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">flew out of my car and around the front of his truck. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">There was </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">mumbling and gasping coming from the woods several feet away. </span></span></b><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">I started to panic, my mind racing. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">A million thoughts ran </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">through my head. Was he hurt? Who was that talking? What </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">happened? Had someone dragged him from the car? </span></span></span></b><br />
<span style="color: purple; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">I didn’t even notice the wet grass sloshing under my feet and </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">spraying my ankles and calves with mud. It was a good thing I </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">hadn’t changed back into my school clothes. I was still wearing </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">shorts and tennis shoes, much better to run in than the high heels </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">I’d sported earlier.</span></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;"><b><span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></b></span>
<b><span style="color: purple;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">The mumbling noises were getting closer. I saw a path I hadn’t </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">noticed before. A car was parked at the end of that path in the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">woods. I walked closer to the car and peered inside. Through the </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">fog of the windows, there was Jeff. And there was Lacy pressed </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit; line-height: 22.4px;">against him.</span></span></b><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope you enjoyed that excerpt! Links to purchase Magnolia Lake are below. Don't forget to leave me a comment for the chance to win a FREE paperback copy! </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And remember, reviews are the lifeline of a book. If you read Magnolia Lake, please leave an honest review on Amazon. It's much appreciated! </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Happy reading!</i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 22.4px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Paperback: </span></span><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Magnolia-Lake-Emily-Paige-Skeen/dp/1530434599/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1457709877&sr=8-2&keywords=magnolia+lake">http://www.amazon.com/Magnolia-Lake-Emily-Paige-Skeen/dp/1530434599/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1457709877&sr=8-2&keywords=magnolia+lake</a></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Kindle: <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Magnolia-Lake-Emily-Paige-Skeen-ebook/dp/B01CIKESIO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1457706180&sr=1-1">http://www.amazon.com/Magnolia-Lake-Emily-Paige-Skeen-ebook/dp/B01CIKESIO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1457706180&sr=1-1</a></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 22.4px;">Nook: <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/magnolia-lake-emily-paige-skeen/1115340536?ean=2940152902471">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/magnolia-lake-emily-paige-skeen/1115340536?ean=2940152902471</a></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-69648176535622622192016-03-10T16:05:00.001-05:002016-03-10T20:58:22.042-05:00Why God Calls Us to Dream Big<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXKLJ1vsi6nBW1Zw81enfVykfhjwEL71spL_G6GsmHG2X1gBAjO1DUkHadjD8MkVt36fJrV6_Z21hNi7NvCKqvnGZD8cTN9GtXy4TJVjTYMYQ6l6SPOljA7fZ3AWlAQ1jvQMreOZ7JTDA/s1600/girl-367450_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXKLJ1vsi6nBW1Zw81enfVykfhjwEL71spL_G6GsmHG2X1gBAjO1DUkHadjD8MkVt36fJrV6_Z21hNi7NvCKqvnGZD8cTN9GtXy4TJVjTYMYQ6l6SPOljA7fZ3AWlAQ1jvQMreOZ7JTDA/s320/girl-367450_1920.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m a dreamer - always have been. I’m a head-in-the-clouds
kind of girl. When I was a kid, my dream was to be a country music star. I even
started my college career off as a music major. But when I realized all I could
do with that degree was teach, my plans changed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few semesters later, I switched my concentration to Public
Relations...again, dreaming big. I pictured myself doing PR for some major
fashion brand, planning runway shows and after-parties - being thrust into a
world of glamour and sparkle. Unfortunately, I was one of the not-so-lucky
college grads who went into the workforce right as the economy was crashing.
And I learned pretty quickly that jobs in PR were few and far between. The
glamorous positions I had dreamed of weren’t open to entry level candidates,
and most other businesses were cutting back on (or completely eliminating)
their PR departments. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But all wasn’t lost. I was fortunate enough to move within
the same company I’d been working for as an office assistant to a different
position as the PR/Marketing Manager. Basically, it was a small company that created
a position for me. I was more than grateful and things went well for a while,
but eventually I began to feel burnt out. Some things happened and I needed a
change. So, I turned to Mary Kay - another big dream.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I met my Mary Kay director, I knew it was something I
had to try. Now, I’d never been a salesperson before and the thought of selling
made me cringe, but Mary Kay seemed like the best opportunity to control my own
future. I was excited about the possibilities presented to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But yet again, my dreams turned sour. I didn’t have the
confidence or the motivation necessary to make something like that work. As
much as I loved the product and what the company stood for, I simply couldn’t
get my consulting business off the ground running. Maybe I gave up too soon. Or
maybe I didn’t have enough passion to drive me to success because it simply
wasn’t my calling. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Naturally, I began looking for my next career move. And what
I found was far beyond anything I could have imagined. Because by this point, I’d
given up on my “dreams,” with only the need to help my new husband pay the
bills moving me forward. Then I stumbled across a small business with big
dreams of its own. I stumbled across people who really <i>cared</i> about their employees. I stumbled across a place to call home
for the next four years. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ll never forget my time there or the people who so
impacted my life. But still...something inside me was screaming, <i>gasping for air</i>. No matter how happy I
was at my job or how much I loved being a part of something so amazing, I felt
that I wasn’t fulfilling my life’s potential. Deep down, I knew God had
something else planned for me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Intensifying that nagging feeling was the desire to be home
with my children. Our daughter was three at the time, and I had just found out
I was expecting again. And no job - no matter how perfect - could stifle my yearning
to be there for my kids. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So I began to let myself dream again. I dreamed about what
it would be like to work from home. I dreamed about spending my days drawing
pictures with words. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">See, sometime during the last few years, I had started
writing a novel. It was just something I worked on when I had a bit of free
time. I eventually self-published it - with very little success. I’d always
dreamed (there’s that word again) of being a writer, but that seemed to be the
one idea I silenced the most. I pushed it to the back of my mind because I didn’t
know where to start. I didn’t know if it could even be done.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But here I am, on the cusp of that same novel’s official
release day. Tomorrow, my dream <i>finally</i>
becomes reality. Finally. And it’s surreal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking back on all my failed efforts, I can’t help but
smile. It turns out, the one thing I’d avoided - the thing I’d been the most
afraid of - was the one thing I was meant to do.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why? Why did I go through so many trial-and-error dreams
before finding my truth? I don’t know the answer to that question, but I don’t
regret dreaming big. I’ll never regret it, not even a little bit. Not even
those dreams that weren’t meant to be. Because I’ve realized something. God <i>wants</i> us to dream big. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’ve read the statistics about authors - how much money they
make (or <i>don’t</i> make, I should say),
how unlikely it is to succeed in this industry. But I still dream. I still
cling to the conviction that started all of this in the first place. Have I
failed miserably in the past? More times than I can count. And I continue to
fail at something - whether it’s motherhood, marriage, or career - every single
day. But God doesn’t give up on me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I’m falling flat on my face, He’s there. When I’m
struggling to remember the <i>why</i> behind
all the mess I may be going through, He reminds me. I look into the sweet faces
of my children or I see a story about the evil in this world, and I remember my
purpose. I remember that if even <i>one</i>
person gets inspired to make a change, turn to God, or encourage someone else,
I’ve done my job. And it’s all worth it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Still...why does God continue to let me fail while
simultaneously encouraging me to dream? If my dreams might never see the light
of day, why does He give them to me? It’s simple: for faith.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">How can we possibly know the majesty and unbelievable <i>power</i> of God if we never experience a
dream coming true? How can we feel His grace, love, and unfaltering patience if
we never fail? How will we know what it means to <i>really</i> depend on God if He doesn’t let us try to first do things on
our own? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe with all my heart that God wants us to dream big -
as big as we possibly can. Because He has the power to exceed even our greatest
imaginings. He can do things that would blow your mind. Things we don’t <i>dare</i> dream about. But He can only do
those things if we’re following <i>His</i>
path for us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There’s a Bible verse that a lot of Christians (myself
formerly included) misinterpret. Psalm 37:4 says, “Take delight in the Lord,
and He will give you the desires of your heart.” I used to think that meant God
would give me anything I wanted if I just believed in Him. Wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What I’ve learned the verse actually means is this. If we
delight in the Lord, really <i>delight</i>
in Him - spend time in prayer and Bible study daily, soaking up His wisdom and
peace - He’ll show us what He wants to do with our lives. And then He’ll <i>place</i> desires in our hearts. Those
things, His plans, will become what we ourselves desire. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This has been a difficult lesson for me to learn. I used to
believe if I wanted something that seemed noble or right, then it was part of God's plan. But that’s simply not true. While I do believe He gives each person unique
talents and dreams, I don’t think you can consider anything you do ordained by
God unless you’re close with Him. Even then, it takes a <i>lot</i> of time in prayer and a lot of being open to opportunities (and
failures) to determine your God-given purpose. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here’s a personal example from my own life. There have been
many freelance writing opportunities presented to me lately, but not a <i>single</i> one has worked out. Each time I
think something seems “perfect” and would provide more financial stability to
my life, it gets snatched away as quickly as it was found. And each time, I get
on my knees and plead with God to send me another opportunity. And He does. And
then He takes it away. Why? <i>Why, God?</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m finally starting to see. Through a lot of frustration
and even more prayer, the reason is becoming clear. <i>That’s the only way God can get through to me.</i> It’s the only way He
can tell me to stop trying to make other things happen and to instead spend
that time writing and promoting my fiction. Sometimes God speaks through our
struggles. We just need to listen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">This is hard, to say the least. My doubts tell me I’ll never
reach the level of success I need. They tell me I’m wasting time on things that
aren’t paying me right now, things that might never pay me. But God tells me to
have faith. He tells me to stop worrying, because He has always - and I mean <i>always -</i> taken care of my family and me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And most of all, He tells me to keep on dreaming big. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-23340300416363422472016-02-26T17:00:00.000-05:002016-02-26T17:00:10.869-05:00Interview with Linda Shew Wolf, Author of "A Firefly Life"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilaQ51Et_ze7sdy8GLeGUZKUCTZ1bv4EKPL8zAaJhrjeBOiHcpdIk4onyhZblLYCinNIZQ_VBempabRINSZRw25zMXcd6z-vw5to_DB_QhTM-tCEir1bXEMibQ1wKMDljx8cZyz62G690/s1600/lw+pic+for+interview2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilaQ51Et_ze7sdy8GLeGUZKUCTZ1bv4EKPL8zAaJhrjeBOiHcpdIk4onyhZblLYCinNIZQ_VBempabRINSZRw25zMXcd6z-vw5to_DB_QhTM-tCEir1bXEMibQ1wKMDljx8cZyz62G690/s200/lw+pic+for+interview2.jpg" width="147" /></a></div>
<b style="font-family: inherit;">Today, I have the pleasure of interviewing fellow Prism Book Group author, Linda Shew Wolf. Linda is a novelist, teaching consultant, musician, and all-around friendly, caring person. It's my honor to give you a glimpse into the workings of her mind. </b><br />
<b style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Thank you so much
for joining me on Books and Babies today, Linda! Let’s jump right in and get to the good stuff.<o:p></o:p></i></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>For my readers who
may not know, you write Young Adult fiction. What inspired you to focus on that
genre, specifically?</i><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I find that age group especially
fascinating, and I’ve always appreciated YA fiction, even as an adult. I’m not
surprised that this genre is gaining such popularity these days with adult
readers. Young adults are at a critical crossroads in their lives—trading the
innocence and directness of youth for the complicated perspectives of adult
life. Caught between two worlds, they are exceptionally well equipped to see
things with fresh, honest eyes. It’s a delight to connect with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><b>I’ve never outgrown
my love for YA fiction, either. In fact, I probably appreciate it even more as
an adult than I did as a teen. That said, is it difficult for you to write from
the perspective of a young teenager? </b><b>How do you get into
the zone?<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am consistently awed by people
who can churn out 1,000 words or more a day. I’ve spent my working life as a
professional editor, so it’s difficult for me to “just write” from the right
brain and be in the flow of that. When it does happen, it’s a wonderful
feeling. More often than not, I begin a writing session by rereading my last
writing and fine-tuning it a bit in preparation for the next installment. When
I revisit my work first (and I know most writers advise against this), I find I
can pick up the thread and immerse myself in the world of the story more fully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Is it difficult to write from
the perspective of a young teenager? Not if you’re an overgrown child at heart!
I often ask much younger writers to be careful to keep things PG13 when they
read their work aloud to me because there’s a child in the room. I think many
of us, especially those in the arts, are very good friends with our young teen
wiring and mindset. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I believe there’s a magic we retain from our childhood that
hits a kind of critical mass when we start to grow up. During that chaotic
period in our teens, all the sparks start flying and we make critical decisions
in our souls about what we will keep and what we will give up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>Wow! I, too, have always felt a connection with my inner teen, but I’ve
never been able to adequately put that connection into words. You’ve described
it beautifully!<o:p></o:p></i></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 7.0pt;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>I noticed that, in
addition to being a writer, you’re a musician. I think there’s something about
music and fiction writing that go hand-in-hand; both evoke the dreamers in us
all. Would you agree, and does music ever play a role in your writing? <o:p></o:p></i></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It definitely does, and I love
this question! In this novel, the music of the 60s is frequently quoted and
almost functions as another minor character. I agree with you that there is a
shared creative process between music and fiction writing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Even the most
realistic fiction has a transcendent quality that lifts us out of the confines
of our working heads, just as music does. I’m always amazed that when I’m
playing music (especially when performing), time loses its grip and I find
myself in a completely different zone, like a dream state as you pointed out.
This can happen during writing and reading fiction as well—such a lovely and
important release.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Agreed! So, </b><b>you also work as a curriculum
consultant. Does this profession give insight into the innermost thoughts and
feelings of young adults?<o:p></o:p></b></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yes, and my respect for these
young people has deepened by watching what they respond to, how they gravitate
to stories and music. One of my favorite things to do with young adults is
introduce them to music they may not hear often (jazz, Balkan folk tunes,
Beethoven, African songs, bluegrass) and ask them to write a story or poem
based on the feelings created by the music. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Teens are pretty cagey about
expressing deep emotions in a school setting, but some surprisingly powerful
writing has come from some of those sessions. I think we would do well to pay
more attention to the insights of our young people. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s so important to invest in the lives of our youth - you seem to do
a great job of that! </span></b><b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>To close things
out, can you give our audience a peek into your recent book, </i>A Firefly Life<i>?</i></span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJSC6hVZ7eaWxmiwduVapYEpJbUG8a7xyGXgVQfmXQB3SconoQPAdggsAX7OUsXQrzhF9Ysj4C1vwZwKtXn0HKqNyd3dFDB6akOFVIsh0u55t2BvCjJilqtkyMwXb4UNNUtPlbF5I8sU/s1600/A+Firefly+Life+cover+screenshot.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggJSC6hVZ7eaWxmiwduVapYEpJbUG8a7xyGXgVQfmXQB3SconoQPAdggsAX7OUsXQrzhF9Ysj4C1vwZwKtXn0HKqNyd3dFDB6akOFVIsh0u55t2BvCjJilqtkyMwXb4UNNUtPlbF5I8sU/s320/A+Firefly+Life+cover+screenshot.png" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s 1968 in upstate NY. Melanie is a 13-year-old who is not developing
physically as quickly as the other girls in her class but who has the romantic
heart of an older girl. A gorgeous guy, Jonathan, moves to her small town and
takes her completely off guard. It’s love at first sight, and to her, it’s the
real deal. Unfortunately, most of the other girls at her school feel the same
way about him, so she has to get creative to get his attention. Through some
unexpected events, she becomes his little sister’s babysitter, and works her
way into his inner circle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The problem is, the boy has plans for his escape from the confines of
the town, and most of those plans involve secrecy and lying. Melanie has to
figure out where she stands with that, especially when it affects her
relationship with her family and her best friend. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I grew very attached to
Melanie’s best friend, Jo, and her family, especially since a white girl with a
black girl for a best friend was unusual back in the 60s. I also enjoyed
developing a subplot about the strong bond that grows between Melanie and
Jonathan’s autistic little sister. These subplots afforded more opportunities
for Melanie to explore her own inner feelings about right and wrong, loyalty,
honesty, faith, and love. <b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>The story sounds
amazing! Thanks for taking time to chat with me! Where can readers find your
book?</i></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you so much for inviting
me! </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">A Firefly Life</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> is available as an
eBook or paperback at Amazon at </span><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Firefly-Life-Linda-Shew-Wolf/dp/1515356906/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441089574&sr=8-1&keywords=a+firefly+life" style="font-family: inherit;">http://www.amazon.com/Firefly-Life-Linda-Shew-Wolf/dp/1515356906/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441089574&sr=8-1&keywords=a+firefly+life</a><span style="font-family: inherit;">
or at Barnes & Noble at </span><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-firefly-life-linda-shew-wolf/1122475744?ean=2940150971998" style="font-family: inherit;">http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-firefly-life-linda-shew-wolf/1122475744?ean=2940150971998</a></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<b>And there you have it, folks. I hope you've enjoyed th<span style="font-family: inherit;">is interv</span>iew as much as I have! To learn more about Linda, check out <a href="https://belonging2all.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">her blog</a>. </b></div>
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<b>Happy reading!</b></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-46958423005600999632016-01-19T13:21:00.000-05:002016-01-19T13:21:44.623-05:00Interview with Danele Rotharmel, Author of Time Tsunami<div class="MsoNormal">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7QK4zCcixuyhVPFLd3T5eUvSHI5q8I9s3qIGb7ku_1EglDQjs_w8EpwhJ0exIzVs6TVm18naNFnVbL0GpRSxRom5SvTF2X7ig9H5xfLdLbUjsmmoo4KGvF829KdnH2hATOxMLYbG0jU/s1600/Danele+Rotharmel.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe7QK4zCcixuyhVPFLd3T5eUvSHI5q8I9s3qIGb7ku_1EglDQjs_w8EpwhJ0exIzVs6TVm18naNFnVbL0GpRSxRom5SvTF2X7ig9H5xfLdLbUjsmmoo4KGvF829KdnH2hATOxMLYbG0jU/s200/Danele+Rotharmel.JPG" width="166" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">One of the things I love best about
the publishing process with <a href="http://prismbookgroup.com/" target="_blank">Prism Book Group</a> is the sense of community between the
authors. Each and every one has been extremely supportive of me, always willing
to answer questions or offer encouragement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">But Danele J. Rotharmel...well, she
takes the cake. She’s one of the most thoughtful, selfless, and inspiring
people I’ve ever met. It’s an honor to have her on my blog today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thanks so much for joining me, Danele! </span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></i></b>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thank you, Emily! I really enjoyed
being here today! You are an incredible person, and I feel very blessed to know
you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Your debut novel, Time Tsunami, was just released on Friday and has already
received tons of positive feedback. As a new author, I’m curious to know how
the experience has been for you, and some of your writing secrets. What
motivates you to write?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">My motives have changed down through
the years. When I was in school, I wrote because it was a BLAST! Writing
stories was so much fun! And when I became ill, I wrote as a way to distract
myself from extreme pain. Now, I want to write as a way to glorify God. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">When I first became ill, I was so
angry at God. I didn’t understand why I had to suffer. I yelled at God, I
ignored Him, I even tried to deny His existence. But even though I was acting
like a spoiled child, God continued to love me. He helped me. He gave me peace
and restored my joy. I want to spend the rest of my life serving Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">What an amazing testimony and great use
of your God-given talents! Some people would say there’s a wide gap between
serving God and writing science fiction. I think some readers assume that
Christian-themed books are “boring” by nature. (We, of course, know that’s not
true!) So take us through your process a bit. Why did you choose to write about
time travel?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Time
Tsunami</span></i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">
started out as a short story for a college creative writing class. I was a
cadet teacher at the time, and I was wishing for a way to warn my students
about pitfalls they might encounter. I have a quirky brain; so naturally, my
wild imagination ran right to time travel. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Later, when I became ill, I had a
box full of old stories that I could revamp into novels, but I chose <i>Time Tsunami</i> because of the time travel
aspect. You see, I desperately wished that I could travel back through time and
prevent myself from being poisoned by that faulty furnace. A simple $35 carbon
monoxide detector would have saved me from years of suffering and pain. I used
to fantasize about going back through time and placing a detector in my house.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">It’s amazing how the human brain
works, taking a difficult situation and turning it into a best-selling novel.
As an avid reader myself, I always love to learn how authors come up with their
stories. I’m also curious how other writers create their characters. What’s
your strategy?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I like to think that my characters
create themselves. I don’t want to just record what my characters did; I want
to understand why they did it. As my imagination roams, I begin to know my
characters inside and out. They become very real to me. One of the hardest
parts about writing has been keeping some of my characters’ backstories to
myself—I want to share every detail. But that would make my books WAY too long!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">With such detailed backstories for
your characters, it seems as if you’d never experience writer’s block. But
being an author myself, I know better. ;) How do you handle it when it happens
to you?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Writer’s block isn’t fun, and I
think the best way to tackle it is by analyzing where it’s coming from. I tend
to split the condition into three categories: mental, environmental, and
tactical. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Mental writer’s block needs to be
attacked head on. I usually get it when I doubt my abilities or when I’m not
sure how to proceed with a scene. When this happens, I force myself to write
even though I’m worried I’ll be cranking out junk. Some of my best passages
have come from “tough-love” sessions. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Environmental writer’s block happens
when I have cabin fever. In these cases, the best thing I can do is get outside
and take a brisk walk. Looking at the blue sky will usually brush the cobwebs
from my mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Tactical writer’s block comes when
I’m forcing myself to concentrate on only one area of my book. I avoid this by
making sure my stories revolve around several sets of characters—that way if
I’m stuck in one area, the other areas are usually still flowing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I like that - determine where the
issue’s coming from so that you can address it directly. I might just have to
try that myself! So, one last question for my readers who may not be familiar
with everything that goes into getting a book published. What has been the most
difficult part of the publishing process for you?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">For me it’s been waiting. When I was
in high school, I was voted the most optimistic in my class, but I was also
voted the biggest procrastinator. I thought the “procrastination” title was
extremely funny until I got to college and realized I needed to reform. When I
do something, I tend to do it thoroughly. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">When I decided to change, I reformed
to the extent that I now tackle problems head on—no waiting—no dillydallying. I
want to plow thorough every task and put it behind me. But you can’t do that
when it comes to the publishing process. You have to work around other people’s
busy schedules. Impatience is a killer. It’s much better to trust God with your
life’s timetable. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">I completely understand the struggle
to have patience. I think that’s the most difficult part of many Christians’
lives: learning to wait for God’s perfect timing. We want everything to happen
when it’s convenient for us, even though we know God’s timing is flawless. </span></i></b><b style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i>Thanks again for joining my blog
today, Danele, and for all the insight. I wish you continued success with your
release! </i></b><br />
<b style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><i><br /></i></b>
<b style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Thank you, Emily! I really enjoyed
being here today! You are an incredible person, and I feel very blessed to know
you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;">For my readers, here’s a brief
synopsis to whet your palette. Below the synopsis you’ll find links to buy the
book and connect with Danele. Happy reading!</b><br />
<b style="font-family: 'Century Gothic', sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><br /></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85YXwSww6QWZ7HAMsgAdaXURdPbpVpxR5Vwmk25yzsPW58U-bldrEuN-n_qB2dswUB_GuH51Y2zNwNbHMpwU9xnDGZlydXbG4Rc-q5GMC8Ep6rkmQ9e8zP5JBMaoTAq2agifm2Qa0lsw/s1600/Time+Tsunami.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85YXwSww6QWZ7HAMsgAdaXURdPbpVpxR5Vwmk25yzsPW58U-bldrEuN-n_qB2dswUB_GuH51Y2zNwNbHMpwU9xnDGZlydXbG4Rc-q5GMC8Ep6rkmQ9e8zP5JBMaoTAq2agifm2Qa0lsw/s320/Time+Tsunami.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">To
stop a cruel serial killer, she must travel twenty-four years into the past…<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Gil Montgomery, a cadet in the
Temporal Counseling Program, can’t wait to pass her field exam and become a
professional time surfer. The TEMCO program targets death-row offenders for
time-based counseling while they’re children.
For her exam, Gil will travel twenty-four years into the past to counsel
ten-year-old Danny Winston before he murders his abusive babysitter, Rick
Olsen. Preventing the stabbing should
stop the chain of events leading to Danny’s eventual execution. Gil’s
assignment seems simple until her adviser, Dr. William Ableman, learns that
Rick is a serial killer targeting Danny’s mother. If Gil stays and protects the
Winstons, she might not survive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">William wants the woman he loves to
be pulled from the field, but if Gil fails to complete her assignment, it will
unleash a Time Tsunami and destroy the timeline. As TEMCO undergoes an
emergency lockdown, and Gil’s fellow cadets try to figure out what’s happening,
Gil and William learn the importance of faith and the price of true love.
Everyone’s fate is resting in Gil’s hands, but does she have the strength she
needs to defeat a ruthless serial killer intent on annihilating everyone in his
path?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Will
she return from the deadly mission?</span></i><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "century gothic" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt;">Buy the book: <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-4438223363903350922015-12-17T19:07:00.001-05:002015-12-17T19:07:44.576-05:00An Open Letter to My Father-in-Law in Heaven<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0N3P37VVeFpqEsze7JVvx9mosfLSn8612RZ-Law3bdzMa88MgDust4U8mSQ1k7bHDzdXpINz8FnJzxqAU0AWgrOHB8DoOp66s22QAcMo3vbX_qwkVchwFnUF26Jhv2bthsgqm9uE212s/s1600/10560277_10152267108363990_2638882681700884684_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0N3P37VVeFpqEsze7JVvx9mosfLSn8612RZ-Law3bdzMa88MgDust4U8mSQ1k7bHDzdXpINz8FnJzxqAU0AWgrOHB8DoOp66s22QAcMo3vbX_qwkVchwFnUF26Jhv2bthsgqm9uE212s/s320/10560277_10152267108363990_2638882681700884684_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>Dear Jim,<br />
<br />
Christmas is next week, and I can't help but remember the year you bought that little yellow Corvette for our precious girl. She really loves that car, you know. And she loves you. So much.<br />
<br />
As I sit here and think of you, I wish I could tell you how <i>very </i>much we miss you. How Cora will talk about you at the most random times, how she'll get really quiet and say "I just miss Poppee" when we ask her what's wrong. How your son wishes more than anything to see you on Christmas, and how he remembers - with a smile on his face and tears in his eyes - all the things you did for him growing up. All the sacrifices you made so that he could have an amazing childhood.<br />
<br />
I wish I could tell you in person how overwhelmingly thankful I am to you for loving me the way you did. You always made me feel welcome - like part of the family. You treated me with kindness. And for that, I will be eternally grateful.<br />
<br />
I wish I could thank you for loving my children with all your heart, for always bringing crackers and treats for them, making them feel special - even if it meant spending your last dime. I will always remember the way their faces lit up every time you visited.<br />
<br />
And finally, I wish I could tell you how happy your son makes me, and what an amazing husband and father he is. I know you were proud of him while you were here on Earth and that you're proud of him even now, looking down on us from Heaven. But I worry that I didn't show you often enough how proud <i>I </i>am of him, too - so I want you to know that I am. And I owe you so much for teaching him what it means to be a hardworking, supportive man.<br />
<br />
All these things I wish I could say to you will forever be held captive in my heart. I can only hope that, somehow, you know.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlWSFhrEYendsmhLfjr8f-bpZBxUsrmtffYOHRDISAkAjl7S_3m19L9U-1fKnbt-7iOknzLuQoi57ulZ-emoeRAzz42ydtmSVgT2Jn1QgiEW5zt1hXPArXoftqSq-LvYHNSzwsiqxH2Nk/s1600/163803_694407400303_3745888_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlWSFhrEYendsmhLfjr8f-bpZBxUsrmtffYOHRDISAkAjl7S_3m19L9U-1fKnbt-7iOknzLuQoi57ulZ-emoeRAzz42ydtmSVgT2Jn1QgiEW5zt1hXPArXoftqSq-LvYHNSzwsiqxH2Nk/s320/163803_694407400303_3745888_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We never imagined that we wouldn't have you with us this year for Christmas. I know God needed you and that it was time for you to leave your imperfect earthly body. But that knowledge only slightly diminishes the pain. My heart aches for your sons, your mother, your grandchildren, and, yes, your daughters-in-law. All of our souls will forever have a Poppee-sized hole in them.<br />
<br />
So today, I will hold your son and grandchildren a little more tightly. I will love more fully. And I will laugh more often, remembering that these days on Earth are numbered.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3c0OWEld_8fKFEbfw3wN5Mw-ovqqQoTiDQZWS_m6WGKyJbc8yc924LkKeMrC0pG9Aes3UHBf0-4OuYArE62JTMEehPLN6zKFTB2mZy84oGxlMqpQu_7WIAf6jWQJWyTyE3OeDKfuVzv8/s1600/602290_10151756524628990_1688979483_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3c0OWEld_8fKFEbfw3wN5Mw-ovqqQoTiDQZWS_m6WGKyJbc8yc924LkKeMrC0pG9Aes3UHBf0-4OuYArE62JTMEehPLN6zKFTB2mZy84oGxlMqpQu_7WIAf6jWQJWyTyE3OeDKfuVzv8/s320/602290_10151756524628990_1688979483_n.jpg" width="236" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABDdM6VbmB6raPo0we4WpK5JTVWOimXwAlbQ-3zZPIiTlneF99MByO4mGHJamnRCuuHPHmGES1Q6Z8arcwG_WneiYB4dtVnaVvec5gS3Ak0Wn3AnUMvia3hrkO7BedUDjfcoEo0-XWfs/s1600/252888_10150193559748990_178468_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhABDdM6VbmB6raPo0we4WpK5JTVWOimXwAlbQ-3zZPIiTlneF99MByO4mGHJamnRCuuHPHmGES1Q6Z8arcwG_WneiYB4dtVnaVvec5gS3Ak0Wn3AnUMvia3hrkO7BedUDjfcoEo0-XWfs/s320/252888_10150193559748990_178468_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
<span style="font-size: small; text-align: start;">We love you and miss you.<br />Merry Christmas in Heaven, Poppee. </span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-27864097379694043292015-09-01T22:30:00.002-04:002015-09-01T22:30:49.868-04:00Review of "Hush in the Storm" by Julie B. Cosgrove<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>"Desperation forced my body to push through the crushing pain in my chest. Inhale. Exhale. Each breath fought to get out, yet couldn't. They became more and more shallow. Was I suffocating? Was I running out of oxygen?"</i></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What Jen thought was going to be a quick, innocent dinner (with a somewhat annoying coworker) turns into the wildest ride of her life. Kidnapped by someone claiming to know her deceased husband, Jen struggles to put her trust in anyone, not knowing who may be keeping dangerous secrets from her. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;">What an incredible, heart-wrenching, hope-filled story Julie B. Cosgrove has woven in <i>Hush in the Storm</i>! Powerful emotion fills every page of this novel from start to finish. Julie creates memorable moments at each turn, pulling you into the heart and soul of her main character. When Jen's afraid, you're afraid. When Jen's confused and frustrated, you're confused and frustrated. You feel every spine-tingling sensation, every desperate hope, every throbbing betrayal right along with her. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The author takes a very real, very dire situation and educates you about it through this book, intertwining edge-of-your-seat twists and turns along the way. She stabs your heart with a strong awareness of the horrific human trafficking problem our country faces by putting it right in front of you. If this story doesn't tug at your heartstrings and inspire you to get involved, nothing will. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And in the midst of all that, Julie manages to subtly teach a lesson in faith - faith to give God control and wait for his timing, no matter how powerful your storm. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Believable characters, a plot that never ceases to shock and intrigue, and descriptive visuals are just a few elements that make this book worthy of your time. I highly recommend it to anyone who...well, to anyone, really. Learn more about Julie and check out all of her books <a href="http://www.juliebcosgrove.com/" target="_blank">here</a>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thanks for visiting, and happy reading! </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-65644314182148473742015-08-27T13:00:00.000-04:002015-08-27T13:00:05.141-04:00Interview With Jewell Tweedt, Author of "A Bride for the Sheriff"<h2 style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Author Jewell Tweedt Joins Me for a Q & A</span></h2>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Q: It's nice to have you, Jewell! Let's jump right in. One genre in which you write is historical fiction. </span><span style="color: black; font-family: inherit; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">Where do you get the background information for your historical fiction stories?</span><br />
<div class="ii gt m14f61acd984e2111 adP adO" id=":1of" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #222222; direction: ltr; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 5px 15px 0px 0px; orphans: auto; padding-bottom: 5px; position: relative; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 1; word-spacing: 0px;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XG3lmfhhIcO9pn7JahXn_3l7NN7Q99-a8h3-UcI5BT2lL1PCULy0Pb0ZynMloEmA_JUGpLSAYXhwjnvN59UO5nSFVYwpA8aTGxK4xxZKKp3M9-It2nv9fqmUWdGuDdMrxj7X3qanZTQ/s1600/P2010003+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9XG3lmfhhIcO9pn7JahXn_3l7NN7Q99-a8h3-UcI5BT2lL1PCULy0Pb0ZynMloEmA_JUGpLSAYXhwjnvN59UO5nSFVYwpA8aTGxK4xxZKKp3M9-It2nv9fqmUWdGuDdMrxj7X3qanZTQ/s1600/P2010003+%25281%2529.JPG" /></a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">A: Thanks for interviewing me today. I get the background information for my historical fiction from my content knowledge as a history teacher. I've been crazy about frontier America since I was a little girl reading Laura Ingalls Wilder and Janette Oke and read extensively. I use my personal library and the internet to check my facts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Q: I loved Laura Ingalls Wilder, too! I've always wanted to write historical fiction, but have shied away from it out of fear. But that's not all you focus on; you also write contemporary mysteries, correct? W<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">hat inspires these? Do you enjoy crime shows on TV? If so, do you have a favorite?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">A: The contemporary mystery I am writing now (Boji Bound) was inspired by my vacations to Okoboji, Iowa and the beautiful</span> lakes there. I enjoy NCIS, but mostly because Mark Harmon is so good looking!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Q: I'd certainly have to agree with the Mark Harmon comment! But we'll save that for another time. Getting back on track, y<span style="line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">ou have a new book coming out next month. Can you give us a little sneak peak?</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A: Yes I do have a new book that releases on </span><span class="aBn" data-term="goog_588146435" style="background-color: white; border-bottom-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-bottom-style: dashed; border-bottom-width: 1px; color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.8000001907349px; position: relative; top: -2px; z-index: 0;" tabindex="0"><span class="aQJ" style="position: relative; top: 2px; z-index: -1;">September 19th</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> from Prism Book Group. It is the second book in the Nebraska Brides series (A Bride for the Sheriff is book one) and it's title is A Lady for the Lawman. Here's a blurb:</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;"><i>On special assignment from the White House to the Nebraska Prairie undercover Pinkerton Agent Jason Reynolds always gets his man. Sent by President U.S. Grant to capture a loco ex-soldier accused of sealing Confederate gold, Jason falls for shopkeeper Arianna Quincy. Trouble is, she's not interested in him or his dangerous career. Can Jason get his man and his woman? </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">This is my favorite book so far because it deals with a true Civil War mystery. What became of nearly one million dollars of gold and silver from the Confederate treasury? Jefferson Davis sent it by wagon with teenage boys guarding it into the deep south to avoid confiscation by Yankees. To this day it has not been recovered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Q: That sounds intriguing! <span style="line-height: 20.2399997711182px; white-space: pre-wrap;">You said earlier that you're a teacher. With all the stress that job sometimes entails, how do you find the time and energy to write?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">A: As I mentioned, I teach American History. Most of my writing is done summers and week-ends. I try to maintain a schedule of one thousand words per day. Of course, there are many days I don't go near my home computer - after all, the great outdoors, books (and laundry) are calling - but I try.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Q: If it weren't for laundry, I bet many writers would double the number of books they produce! In your spare time, what (aside from writing) do you enjoy?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222; font-family: inherit;">A: My hobbies include reading, walking, boating and watching old war movies and westerns with my husband.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmDa-6GDkOTQHOXaa491nC3srbOGD_jdwp0pD_VwTFOY2Zl7NRWDR1SlDL0UWxbsI3bN1MjmbnZYmdsNNUKVd7l5rbGl9IFP7ynJMtWSEammqcdmVM7cPPBreyhsfvU7xbUh8w97z9tOs/s1600/ABridefortheSheriff+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmDa-6GDkOTQHOXaa491nC3srbOGD_jdwp0pD_VwTFOY2Zl7NRWDR1SlDL0UWxbsI3bN1MjmbnZYmdsNNUKVd7l5rbGl9IFP7ynJMtWSEammqcdmVM7cPPBreyhsfvU7xbUh8w97z9tOs/s320/ABridefortheSheriff+copy.jpg" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: inherit;">Q: Well, there ya have it, folks! Thanks so much for chatting with me, Jewell! Where can readers learn more about you and find your books?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #222222;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">A: My blog is </span><a href="http://www.tweedtjewell.blogspot.com/" style="background-color: white; color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">www.tweedtjewell.blogspot.com</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"> and my books are for sale through the blog, Amazon, Barnes & Noble and of course <a href="http://prismbookgroup.com/abrideforthesheriff.html" target="_blank">Prism Book Group</a>. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><b><i>Readers, check out Jewell's blog for more info on her books, and keep an eye out for "A Lady for the Lawman." Happy reading!</i></b></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-41686783328751271682015-06-26T16:59:00.000-04:002015-08-26T22:23:37.649-04:00Six Things New Parents are Shocked to Hear Themselves Say<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ever found yourself screaming for your child to get her hand out of her own poop? Then you can relate to these six crazy things that come out of parents’ mouths. Heck, you’ll say them eventually, too (if you haven’t already). It’s ok to admit it. We’re all in this together.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 18.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“You wouldn’t believe the amount of poop that just came out of this baby!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wow...never thought you’d say </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">that</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, huh? When you have a baby, suddenly </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>everything</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> is about poop. Actually, it’s about what goes into your baby as well as what comes out, but you’d be surprised at how much your life revolves around human feces after you welcome your sweet little bundle of joy to the world.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 18.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“I haven’t had a shower in...I don’t know...like, two days.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’d like to think that after a certain age, kids become independent enough to allow you sufficient time to maintain proper hygiene. Until then, here’s how the conversation goes:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Husband: “I know you’ve had a rough day. Come on over here and I’ll give you a back rub.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wife (Because, come on, we know what “back rub” </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">really</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> means): “Seriously? I haven’t showered today...or yesterday.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 18.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“I think I have food poisoning.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ok, you’ve probably said this at least once in your lifetime, with or without kids. But if you’ve used it as an excuse to lock yourself in the bathroom and get some alone time, then you’re a parent of small children. Before having kids, you never would have </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">dreamed</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> of telling anyone - especially your significant other - about your tummy troubles. Now? You’re all too willing to make the issue known...or even to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">make up </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">the issue.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 18.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Don’t eat your boogers!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While cliche, this still rings true as ever. And if you hear someone saying it, just send up a silent prayer for her. She probably has a rebellious toddler on her hands. Because, as much as you’d like to believe your child would never, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">ever</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> eat a booger (gross!), it happens. Maybe it’s curiosity. Maybe it’s an act of defiance. Who knows why kids do some of the crazy, irrational things they do?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 18.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Just swallow it!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">No, this is not of the - <i>ahem</i> - adult nature. But if you’ve got a picky eater in your family (otherwise known as any child between the ages of two and...??), then chances are you’ve uttered this phrase or some version of it a million times. The food is already in your mouth, kid. The more you chew it, the grosser it will be. Just swallow the dang chicken!</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 18.6666666666667px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">“Don’t step in your pee.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Potty training? Now </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">there’s</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> comedy. You won’t believe the things you’ll utter while trying to teach a child the most basic human process. Stepping in pee? Yeah, that happens - to your child </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to you. Even once you’ve made it through the horrendous potty-training months, there will still be accidents. And there </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">will</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>still</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> occasionally be pee on the bathroom floor. It’s just a part of your life now. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Don’t fret, New Parent. We all utter these crazy things from time to time - as in, at least once a day. Welcome to the club. </span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-438e9625-319c-e7bc-a940-0870e86eb0ce"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-56338241076408559292015-06-22T12:11:00.000-04:002015-08-26T22:24:17.533-04:00When Life UnravelsDo you ever just feel like giving up? We all have those days, and it’s definitely been that kind of morning for me. Our seven-month-old kept us up from midnight until 3 a.m., causing me to oversleep and go into a frenzied, stressful time-crunch for writing an article with an early deadline. Then, just as I gathered my thoughts and began to outline the article, my four-year-old woke up and informed me that she’d had an accident in her bed. Really? This rarely ever happens. <b><i>Why today, of all days?!</i></b> So...I took a deep breath (which did little to calm my nerves), waved goodbye to my deadline, and got the girl cleaned up. All before I’d even had coffee. <br />
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I’ve been wondering all morning why this keeps happening to me. Why, when I’m trying <b>SO</b> hard to be a good mother, a compassionate wife, and a dedicated writer? Why is there constantly - and I mean <i><b>constantly</b></i> - a crying baby? Why can’t he be content to play by himself the way our daughter was at his age? Why hasn’t he grown out of this yet? Why won’t my preschooler listen and just do what I tell her? Why does she wait too long to go to the bathroom, causing me to stop what I’m doing and clean up her accident? <br />
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Why do I feel this constant pressure to keep the house perfectly clean, cook all the meals, and still bring money in for the family? <b>And...most of all, why <i>can’t</i> I keep it together and get it all done so that I don’t always feel like <i>such</i> a failure?</b><br />
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As I’m asking myself these questions and willing my eyes not to betray me with tears, God slaps me with an answer so simple, I’m dumbfounded that I never thought of it before. And He does it with an email. <br />
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<i><b>It’s because Satan doesn’t want me to succeed. </b></i><br />
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<b><i><br /></i>But that’s ok - God <i>does</i>.</b><br />
Wow. Chew on that for a minute. God <i>wants</i> us to succeed; He says so in the Bible! In all my years of Sunday School and sermons, I never really paid much attention to this idea, this notion that God’s rooting for me. And He’ll give me a way out of temptation - or, in my case - frustration.<br />
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1 Corinthians 10:13 says, “No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.” God encourages us again in Philippians 1:6: “being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” <br />
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So, with those verses in mind, <b><i>I’ve decided I’m not going to let Satan win</i></b>. Here’s my plan.<br />
<ul>
<li><b>Give it to God.</b> First and foremost, when I start to feel frustrated or overwhelmed, I’m going to remind myself that <i>I’m only human</i>. Then I’m going to pray for God to take over. Because, with Him, all things are possible.</li>
<li><b>Practice patience.</b> When my world is going crazy and the baby’s screaming, the four-year-old’s pitching a fit, the dishes are overflowing, and there’s a load of laundry I forgot to switch to the dryer (again), I will stop. I’ll just stop what I’m doing and pray for patience. </li>
<li><b>Be grateful.</b> No matter how much seems to be going wrong in my life, it could always be worse. From now on, I will take time <i>every day</i> to remember the things I have to be thankful for, big and small. Today, I’m thankful that the client whose article I was working on is willing to give me a deadline extension, so I won’t lose that money - or the client. I’m also thankful that my sink full of dirty dishes means we have food to eat, and my washer full of now-soured clothes means we have something to wear. Finally, I’m thankful that, at this very moment, my baby is asleep and my daughter is playing quietly. It may not last long, but I <i>will</i> thank God for these peaceful - even if infrequent - moments. </li>
</ul>
That’s my plan of attack against Satan. He will NOT win. My family and I <b>WILL</b> survive. <i><b>We will thrive.</b></i> After all, how could we not, with God on our side? </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7600490719000780541.post-50493678922827267442015-05-11T17:19:00.001-04:002015-08-26T22:24:55.902-04:00Working from Home: Where's the Glamour? To say "parenting is hard" would be the understatement of the century. Parenting two small children while attempting to work from home, on the other hand, is, well...just plain funny. And crazy. And certainly not glamorous.<br />
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My second and youngest child, Brady, is six months old today. His short life has flown by more quickly than I ever could have dreamed possible, as has the life of my oldest, who will be four in a few short days. As my children grow and change with each passing moment, I reflect on the joy, pain, and comedy of being a full-time "work-from-home" mama. That said, I've come up with a list of five reasons working from home is <i>not</i> for the faint of heart.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Reason #1: Potty Breaks </span></b><br />
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The baby's finally taking a nap? Great! Maybe I can get a little bit of work done. Ya know, possibly <i>one</i> social media post before he starts screaming again.<br />
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And then it happens: "Mama! I need to potty!" Yes, my almost-four-year-old is fully potty trained, but even the best potty-goer needs assistance occasionally, even if only to make sure she gets her pants pulled down in time. Especially since she has a tendency to put off going to the bathroom until the very last possible minute.<br />
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Ok, got the girl to the bathroom in time - just narrowly avoiding a mid-day, post-accident shower - and now I can get back to work. I grab the laptop, get comfy in the rocking chair, and start to brainstorm. I then get distracted by the loud "thud" of a door slamming. The preschooler has decided she's "mad" at her pretend boyfriend, and thus, feels the overwhelming need to slam her bedroom door.<br />
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And the baby is awake.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Reason #2: Working in Pajamas</span></b><br />
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You may be thinking, "You get to work in your pajamas? I'd kill for that!" But trust me, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Working in pj's just means I haven't had time to shower yet, and that I'm a mess. I often miss the days of waking up, showering immediately, fixing my hair, getting dressed in a skirt and heels, and "putting on" my face. There's something cathartic about looking your best; it boosts your confidence.<br />
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These days? It's only on the rare, special occasion that I'm able to take time to actually put on makeup. And forget straightening my hair. I mean, ponytails are cute, right?<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Reason #3: Incomplete Tasks</span></b><br />
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When my husband and I decided I'd take the leap and quit my full-time, out-of-home job to be with the kids and work on my writing career, I was stoked. I thought, "Wow! I'll have soooo much time! I'll get soooo much done!" Wrong. While it's true that my work is extremely flexible, there are still only 24 hours in a day. And I do need to sleep at some point.<br />
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Dealing with a baby <i>and</i> a preschooler while trying to meet deadlines - and spit out enough articles to meet my quota for the day - is no joke. Seriously. The house is a mess about 90 percent of the time, laundry piles up, and what should take half an hour to write ends up taking half the day. Where did all those promising hours go?!<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Reason #4: Cold Coffee </span></b><br />
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Every day is the same. I turn on the coffee pot, fill it with water, and put in the coffee grounds. A few minutes later, I pour myself a nice cup of smooth, rich, <i>hot</i> coffee. Ah, that's the stuff!<br />
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An hour later and my cup is still full. Breastfeeding, making breakfast, helping with potty breaks, putting the baby to sleep, and answering a million questions from the preschooler have all gotten in the way of drinking my wonderful, soul-lifting, energy-producing, hot coffee. Now I just have a cup of cold, bitter liquid. So I reheat. And repeat.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Reason #5: Smelling Like Spit-Up</span></b><br />
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Sure, if you work outside of the home and have a baby, you'll often smell like spit-up. But because I'm home all day with the baby, I get spewed on <i>several</i> times throughout the day. And because I've got nowhere to go, I don't bother to change clothes. Thus, I adopt a constant smell. I might as well bottle the stuff and call it perfume.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Why do I do it?</i></b></span><br />
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So. If this is all true - which, I promise, it is - why in the world would anyone <i>choose</i> this life? I'll tell you: for love. There's nothing I enjoy more than being able to wake up to my little ones in the morning, hug and kiss them all day, and then put them to bed each night. I get to go to every single class party and field trip at my daughter's preschool - I'd never give up seeing the look on her face when I tell her I'll be spending the morning with her at school. And I get the very special honor of providing my baby's <i>every</i> meal, nourishing him from my own body and watching him grow as a result of it.<br />
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In no way am I saying that working from home is the <i>only</i> way to raise a family; it's just the way that works for mine. Even though I may complain or joke about the difficulties of it all, I wouldn't trade it for the world. I know I'm lucky to have this opportunity. Scratch that - I'm <i>blessed</i>.<br />
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I know what it's like to feel the tears on your cheeks when you have to leave your newborn baby in the morning. I've experienced the guilt of missing your child reach an important milestone in her young life. I've felt the horrendous pain of a child tugging on your hand, begging you not to go.<br />
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So, to all you mamas facing these heart-wrenching emotions day after day, I admire you. Keep your head up and stay strong. You're giving your family exactly what it needs, and your children love you for it. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06963760044661125210noreply@blogger.com0