Time flies.
I took a few days off without even realizing the time was passing. Sorry. It's been a traumatic week in a way. And a wonderful week in another way.
You see, I was working on novel #4. It's been written for some time.(Finished before I broke my hip in February) After I got home from rehab, I had a very difficult time getting my act together. Didn't feel like doing anything. When I did finally come around, I realized if I was to keep my goal of a novel a year, I'd better get in high gear rewriting and editing my novel, because 2015 is quickly coming to an end.
I struggled. Man, how I struggled. The novel, which seemed so ingenious while I was writing it, had turned on me. The one thing I must achieve with every novel I write . . . it must be God-honoring. While I wasn't looking . . . this novel became dark. Try as I may to rewrite scenes, and hone character's personalities - I couldn't get past the darkness.
I prayed about it. At length. And I asked my husband to pray.
We both heard the same thing. If it was not totally God-honoring, and apparently no amount of effort was going to make it so, "Trash it." the Lord said. "Start from scratch."
It was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I mean, I'd put many hours into that novel. But I have a commitment to God. He expects me to give Him all the glory in every novel I write.
So . . . I deleted 60,000 words with one flick of the wrist.
It's only three months until the end of the year, and I have no novel for 2015. Not even 100 words, You know what? I'm not going to fret about it. I might write two in 2016. Or not!
One thing I'm not going to do, and that's let Satan steal my joy. Because I'm following God's orders.
The battle is real!
Friday, September 25, 2015
Wednesday, September 16, 2015
My Parents, Episode #2
I gave you a little background on my daddy on Monday. Now for a little background on Mother.
My mother was a flapper girl!
I've always known that and never knew any reason to be ashamed of it. However, it would seem there are some who are under the impression that flapper girls were "bad" girls. Not so. I read a book recently in which the author made some references to "flappers" as though they were ladies of the night. BTW, when I got to that part of the book, I quit reading. Because that author obviously didn't know much about nuttin'.
Were you to look up "lady" in the dictionary, you'd see a picture of my mother. She didn't drink, smoke, or chew. She was kind to all people and animals, and had the integrity of a saint. What she did like to do, though, was have fun. Dress in really cute little outfits and dance, dance, dance.
Mother's school years were sad. Her family was so poor she wore hand-me-downs. But they were from her big brother. Children, being what they often are, made her young life miserable.
Her father (my maternal grandfather) died in the flu epidemic of 1918. when Mother was 14 years old. He left my grandmother with 5 children to raise alone, during the great depression. Mother quit school to go to work in a shoe factory. And gave every penny she earned to her mother.
As her siblings grew, she was finally able to keep part of her pay. She made a lot of her own clothes, and dressed in all the latest styles. And went dancing every chance she got. She could do the Charleston like she was born doing it. And that's how she met Daddy.
He went to the dances to meet the girls. He wasn't really big on dancing. But he sure was good-looking.
And he fell for Mother really hard!
More later!
God bless!
My mother was a flapper girl!
I've always known that and never knew any reason to be ashamed of it. However, it would seem there are some who are under the impression that flapper girls were "bad" girls. Not so. I read a book recently in which the author made some references to "flappers" as though they were ladies of the night. BTW, when I got to that part of the book, I quit reading. Because that author obviously didn't know much about nuttin'.
Were you to look up "lady" in the dictionary, you'd see a picture of my mother. She didn't drink, smoke, or chew. She was kind to all people and animals, and had the integrity of a saint. What she did like to do, though, was have fun. Dress in really cute little outfits and dance, dance, dance.
Mother's school years were sad. Her family was so poor she wore hand-me-downs. But they were from her big brother. Children, being what they often are, made her young life miserable.
Her father (my maternal grandfather) died in the flu epidemic of 1918. when Mother was 14 years old. He left my grandmother with 5 children to raise alone, during the great depression. Mother quit school to go to work in a shoe factory. And gave every penny she earned to her mother.
As her siblings grew, she was finally able to keep part of her pay. She made a lot of her own clothes, and dressed in all the latest styles. And went dancing every chance she got. She could do the Charleston like she was born doing it. And that's how she met Daddy.
He went to the dances to meet the girls. He wasn't really big on dancing. But he sure was good-looking.
And he fell for Mother really hard!
More later!
God bless!
Monday, September 14, 2015
My Parents
I got to thinking about my parents last night - not that I don't think about them every day. But last night my thoughts went deep . . . and way back.
They married in 1926 on March 14 - my Daddy's 21st birthday.
He had not been allowed to marry before that day. Yes, you heard right . . . his father wouldn't allow him to marry until he was 21. My grandfather was a very small man. I imagine he didn't weigh more than 140 pounds soaking wet. My daddy, on the other hand, was large and muscular. Not large in height . . . but he had biceps like a prize fighter from years of working in the coal mines. He'd had to quit school in the fifth grade to go to work and help support the family.
But oh, did Daddy love his night life. While living under his parents roof, he found it next to impossible to make it home by curfew. Even though he knew his father would be waiting with the paddle. Yep . . . the paddle. This tough, muscle-bound young man would obediently allow his pint-sized father to whip him with a paddle when he got home late.
That's the kind of respect our ancestors showed for their parents. Whether raised in a Christian home or not . . . "Honor thy father and thy mother" was deeply ingrained in their spirit.
He told me - years later when I was an adult - "Oh how I hated those whippings. I made up my mind the day I turned 21 your mother and I would marry and get our own place." I asked him if it had ever occurred to him to come in by curfew . . . and he just grinned.
Tune in Wednesday for the next episode.
They married in 1926 on March 14 - my Daddy's 21st birthday.
He had not been allowed to marry before that day. Yes, you heard right . . . his father wouldn't allow him to marry until he was 21. My grandfather was a very small man. I imagine he didn't weigh more than 140 pounds soaking wet. My daddy, on the other hand, was large and muscular. Not large in height . . . but he had biceps like a prize fighter from years of working in the coal mines. He'd had to quit school in the fifth grade to go to work and help support the family.
But oh, did Daddy love his night life. While living under his parents roof, he found it next to impossible to make it home by curfew. Even though he knew his father would be waiting with the paddle. Yep . . . the paddle. This tough, muscle-bound young man would obediently allow his pint-sized father to whip him with a paddle when he got home late.
That's the kind of respect our ancestors showed for their parents. Whether raised in a Christian home or not . . . "Honor thy father and thy mother" was deeply ingrained in their spirit.
He told me - years later when I was an adult - "Oh how I hated those whippings. I made up my mind the day I turned 21 your mother and I would marry and get our own place." I asked him if it had ever occurred to him to come in by curfew . . . and he just grinned.
Tune in Wednesday for the next episode.
Tuesday, September 8, 2015
Polyurethane
Today I finished a new back for a clock my son Billy's repairing. (He's a clocksmith) The back had been damaged in shipment.
Matched the stain to a "T". Stained and polyurethaned it to perfection. And then I looked down at the open can of polyurethane and my stained hands. And said to myself "Why not?"
Four window facings, one gift "love" box, and a quilt stand later I looked down at the almost empty can and my really, really stained-up hands. And said to myself. "Ah yes, now I remember why not. I have a very important appointment tomorrow, and my fingernails look like I just overhauled a tractor engine.
I'm going to spend the rest of the day soaking my hands in Dawn and raiding my bag of Dove.
Hardly a day passes that God doesn't put a song or a Scripture on my heart. Today was no exception. He gave me one of my favorites.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart.
Lean not to your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path.
Do not be wise in your own eyes.
Fear the Lord and depart from evil.
It will mean health to your flesh and strength to your bones.
Every line (and I do stop to absorb each line) applies to me at one time or another.
I do forget sometimes to trust in Him and Him alone.
Because I do often lean on my own understanding. (Or that of someone else.)
I sometimes forget to acknowledge Him in all things.
And God knows, at times I think I know it all.
Well, I DO fear Him (reverential awe) but I'm not always as innocent as I might be.
God help me to live Your word, because if I remember to do all those things, You have promised me health and strength. Hallelujah!
Matched the stain to a "T". Stained and polyurethaned it to perfection. And then I looked down at the open can of polyurethane and my stained hands. And said to myself "Why not?"
Four window facings, one gift "love" box, and a quilt stand later I looked down at the almost empty can and my really, really stained-up hands. And said to myself. "Ah yes, now I remember why not. I have a very important appointment tomorrow, and my fingernails look like I just overhauled a tractor engine.
I'm going to spend the rest of the day soaking my hands in Dawn and raiding my bag of Dove.
Hardly a day passes that God doesn't put a song or a Scripture on my heart. Today was no exception. He gave me one of my favorites.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart.
Lean not to your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your path.
Do not be wise in your own eyes.
Fear the Lord and depart from evil.
It will mean health to your flesh and strength to your bones.
Every line (and I do stop to absorb each line) applies to me at one time or another.
I do forget sometimes to trust in Him and Him alone.
Because I do often lean on my own understanding. (Or that of someone else.)
I sometimes forget to acknowledge Him in all things.
And God knows, at times I think I know it all.
Well, I DO fear Him (reverential awe) but I'm not always as innocent as I might be.
God help me to live Your word, because if I remember to do all those things, You have promised me health and strength. Hallelujah!
Thursday, September 3, 2015
It Began With a Prayer
Son Billy and I went to the Ted Cruz Rally in Tyler, Texas today.
For those who may not know, Ted Cruz is a U.S. Senator from Texas. And candidate for the Republican Presidential nominee in 2016.
Such a blessing to attend a political rally and have it begin with prayer. It's not politically correct, of course, but some of our representatives don't observe that nonsense. Ted Cruz is one of them His speech was uplifting and gave me, as it did others, hope in the fact that there are still men and women in places of governmental responsibility who actually care about their constituents. And more importantly, they care about God. And our continued freedom to worship Him.
I'm not using my blog to recommend any one candidate. We have several hopefuls who are God-fearing, praying individuals. As Christians, that should be the main criteria in our decision of whom to vote for in the primaries.
My prayer is now, and will be for more than a year, that every Christian will get out and vote in 2016. Did you know that less than 50% of eligible evangelicals are registered to vote, and in the 2012 election an even smaller percentage of those who were registered actually got out and voted? That's terrible, folks. It's no wonder Satan has such a foothold in America today.
Talk to your Christian friends. Make sure they realize that our entire future depends on all of us standing up for what is right and what is Godly. And we can't do it without their vote.
The battle is real!
For those who may not know, Ted Cruz is a U.S. Senator from Texas. And candidate for the Republican Presidential nominee in 2016.
Such a blessing to attend a political rally and have it begin with prayer. It's not politically correct, of course, but some of our representatives don't observe that nonsense. Ted Cruz is one of them His speech was uplifting and gave me, as it did others, hope in the fact that there are still men and women in places of governmental responsibility who actually care about their constituents. And more importantly, they care about God. And our continued freedom to worship Him.
I'm not using my blog to recommend any one candidate. We have several hopefuls who are God-fearing, praying individuals. As Christians, that should be the main criteria in our decision of whom to vote for in the primaries.
My prayer is now, and will be for more than a year, that every Christian will get out and vote in 2016. Did you know that less than 50% of eligible evangelicals are registered to vote, and in the 2012 election an even smaller percentage of those who were registered actually got out and voted? That's terrible, folks. It's no wonder Satan has such a foothold in America today.
Talk to your Christian friends. Make sure they realize that our entire future depends on all of us standing up for what is right and what is Godly. And we can't do it without their vote.
The battle is real!
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