A flyer arrived in the mail.
This is a VERY common occurrence.
What wasn't so common was one of the featured items.
I'm all for items that remind me of what I should be doing and what my priorities are and all that.
But my mind refuses to look at things on the black and white one-dimensional level of reality.
The item -- actually a series of items -- very small polished pieces of glass in a rainbow of colors. And on each "stone"was printed Gal 5:22-23 and one of the fruit of the Spirit...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.
This was my first thought. "Cool. Pretty glass."
My second thought. "Hmmm. So if I'm having a really bad day and am lacking in one of those areas, would one of these gems actually help?"
My third thought. "So. Like, if I was lacking patience with a person, I could whip the patience piece out of my pocket and fling it at them."
Then I laughed.
All by myself.
And now I'm telling you. HeeHeeHee.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Serials and Scenarios - Tamera Alexander - Remembered...
Oh my. Tamera sent this and somehow (shush, no sarcasm necessary) it slipped under my nose and languished in my inbox. Oh no.
Her book, Remembered, was reviewed last Wednesday. Sorry, Tammy, a few days short, not to mention a few cards short of a deck, I'm offering them now. Here are Tamera's great answers to the standard dregs.
What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)
A ghost story set in an antebellum home. A Southern novel, contemporary, with a thread of romance of course, and the Civil War. Oh, that’s a dream… J
What makes you feel alive?
A fall day when the air is clean and the leaves so crisp and splashed with color that you just have to stop and try to take it all in, which you can’t, of course. And you realize there’s no “reason” why those leaves had to change those colors in order for the plant or tree to go dormant. God did it to show his glory, his artistry.
How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?
Tears and humor. Used together, they’re a powerful tool!
Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.
I would time travel, does that still fit? Back to the era in which I write and specifically to some points in European history. Especially those in France. And to Biblical times, of course. ;)
What is your favorite word?
Forgiven.
What word annoys you more than any other?
Can’t.
Super power you’d love to borrow for awhile?
Ability to read minds—as long as no one else could have that super power around me.
Favorite chore
Vacuuming. It’s a sickness, I know. But I love things neat.
Grammatical pet peeve…sound off.
People who don’t like semi-colons. Semi-colons are wonderful; they serve a real purpose in our language and shouldn’t be ostracized from fiction. ;)
Societal pet peeve…sound off.
People who talk full voice on their cell phones while you’re in an elevator or restaurant. That’s what “Excuse me while I step outside and take this call” is for. ;)
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
If I never write another word or get another reader note about my books, I’ll die a happy woman. ;)
Thanks again, Tamera. So sorry about the communication glitch!
Her book, Remembered, was reviewed last Wednesday. Sorry, Tammy, a few days short, not to mention a few cards short of a deck, I'm offering them now. Here are Tamera's great answers to the standard dregs.
What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)
A ghost story set in an antebellum home. A Southern novel, contemporary, with a thread of romance of course, and the Civil War. Oh, that’s a dream… J
What makes you feel alive?
A fall day when the air is clean and the leaves so crisp and splashed with color that you just have to stop and try to take it all in, which you can’t, of course. And you realize there’s no “reason” why those leaves had to change those colors in order for the plant or tree to go dormant. God did it to show his glory, his artistry.
How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?
Tears and humor. Used together, they’re a powerful tool!
Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.
I would time travel, does that still fit? Back to the era in which I write and specifically to some points in European history. Especially those in France. And to Biblical times, of course. ;)
What is your favorite word?
Forgiven.
What word annoys you more than any other?
Can’t.
Super power you’d love to borrow for awhile?
Ability to read minds—as long as no one else could have that super power around me.
Favorite chore
Vacuuming. It’s a sickness, I know. But I love things neat.
Grammatical pet peeve…sound off.
People who don’t like semi-colons. Semi-colons are wonderful; they serve a real purpose in our language and shouldn’t be ostracized from fiction. ;)
Societal pet peeve…sound off.
People who talk full voice on their cell phones while you’re in an elevator or restaurant. That’s what “Excuse me while I step outside and take this call” is for. ;)
Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?
This one:
Your book (Rekindled) helped me to begin loving my husband again. Maybe to start loving him to begin with. I’m trying to get rid of the high expectations I’ve held for the past fifteen years because they’ve only led me to disappointment. We’re seeking counseling and are trying to rebuild our marriage. Your writings gave me the courage to take that step, and helped me to know that God could make that happen. Thank you.If I never write another word or get another reader note about my books, I’ll die a happy woman. ;)
Thanks again, Tamera. So sorry about the communication glitch!
Monday, October 01, 2007
Scribble and Scrambles - Dreaming....
I’m not a dreamer. Oh, while I'm awake I dream big, but when I sleep, I sleep, usually.
When I have a dream it tends to be big-as-life and a little creepy. The stick-with-me, work their way under my skin far-too-realistic type dreams.
In particular, I played a dog, and my bed the fire hydrant…another, I played a sleepy little girl and my parents’ bed played the toilet. To quote Dave Barry, “I am not making this up.”
When I was nine or ten, I read The Hiding Place. Probably a bad idea in hind-sight since it haunted me with the mental pictures of evil men, emaciated, tortured captives and the realities of war. My youngest brother, eight years my junior, was small and helpless, and my older sister/maternal instincts were tautly tuned to protect and nurture. My first vivid, too-real, terrifying dream involved dive-bombing planes, helplessness and the brutal death of my parents leaving me to care for my baby brother. That I can still remember it, thirty years later…well, let’s just say it felt real.
Several dreams later I reached adulthood.
When my second baby and I returned from the hospital, I wore a proud smile, the tag “mother of two” and a healthy dose of responsibility. The dream that woke me in a cold sweat and haunted me for months involved an icy bridge, a plunge into a river and a frantic attempt to remove my children from car seats as the water climbed higher and higher.
Several years ago, God asked me to spend some time fasting. I practiced and prepared for a long one. My first night without food, I woke as I hovered between awake and REM. As I prayed, I scarfed Krispy Kreme dream donuts, and as I fully awakened I had the sense that God wouldn’t let me break the fast that He’d called me to complete.
Early this morning I woke during a horrible dream. Too fresh to share it, but it required prayer to bring my heart back into normal rhythm. A random, creepy dream, not about the protective maternal instinct, or the awareness of my own pathetic weaknesses, which makes it worse on so many levels. Shudder.
Am I alone? Are you, too, haunted by dreams past or present?
When I have a dream it tends to be big-as-life and a little creepy. The stick-with-me, work their way under my skin far-too-realistic type dreams.
In particular, I played a dog, and my bed the fire hydrant…another, I played a sleepy little girl and my parents’ bed played the toilet. To quote Dave Barry, “I am not making this up.”
When I was nine or ten, I read The Hiding Place. Probably a bad idea in hind-sight since it haunted me with the mental pictures of evil men, emaciated, tortured captives and the realities of war. My youngest brother, eight years my junior, was small and helpless, and my older sister/maternal instincts were tautly tuned to protect and nurture. My first vivid, too-real, terrifying dream involved dive-bombing planes, helplessness and the brutal death of my parents leaving me to care for my baby brother. That I can still remember it, thirty years later…well, let’s just say it felt real.
Several dreams later I reached adulthood.
When my second baby and I returned from the hospital, I wore a proud smile, the tag “mother of two” and a healthy dose of responsibility. The dream that woke me in a cold sweat and haunted me for months involved an icy bridge, a plunge into a river and a frantic attempt to remove my children from car seats as the water climbed higher and higher.
Several years ago, God asked me to spend some time fasting. I practiced and prepared for a long one. My first night without food, I woke as I hovered between awake and REM. As I prayed, I scarfed Krispy Kreme dream donuts, and as I fully awakened I had the sense that God wouldn’t let me break the fast that He’d called me to complete.
Early this morning I woke during a horrible dream. Too fresh to share it, but it required prayer to bring my heart back into normal rhythm. A random, creepy dream, not about the protective maternal instinct, or the awareness of my own pathetic weaknesses, which makes it worse on so many levels. Shudder.
Am I alone? Are you, too, haunted by dreams past or present?
Friday, September 28, 2007
Scribble and Scrambles - Here's Lookin at You, Kid
I’m a big fan of non-verbal expression.
Since I have a house full of creatures, let me start there. Guilty dogs…you’ve seen it, you’ve probably caused it by catching them in the act of “Bad Dog!” behavior. Suddenly, a guilty dog becomes absorbed in staring at a spot far away from the eyes of the lecturing human. The tail tucks, the ears curl inward.
My friend shared the story of her dog who thought she got away with raiding the garbage can and eating a container of Cool Whip. Little did the perky pup know that her black muzzle betrayed her crime, and once her error was pointed out all the fun flew out of the moment.
Here’s another animal moment: peppy little Feral Will loves the crabby calico. We enjoy the displays of affection offered and rebuffed. Picture Pepe Le Pew and his casual yet obsessive pursuit of a lovely female, and then picture the lovely female running frantically from him, and you’ve got a good idea of which I speak. Then add the sudden stop, turn and bristle of a cat “that’s had enough thank-you-very-much!” Ears back, mouth open in a Joker-style grimace, tail four times its natural size and a sideways tip-toe skitter.
But my favorite non-verbals are people expressions. These are the ones I collect and hang onto in my memory banks.
Squeezed-tight eyes, hand over chest, other hand fanning face, laughter.
Open mouth, dropped jaw, a twitch of a smile …and mental gears creaking as a response is formulated.
Dawning understanding -- when mental and emotional light bulbs flick on, lighting eyes and dark corners of a room.
Long blinks, lolling head, deep-breathing, stretches, with the occasional jerk to stay awake.
And my all time favorite. The one Rob gave me as we parted this morning. I’d said something witty and turned to look back at him. He grinned, and the twinkle in his eye told me that -- yep, not only does he get me -- He likes me.
Now that’s what I’m talking about.
Since I have a house full of creatures, let me start there. Guilty dogs…you’ve seen it, you’ve probably caused it by catching them in the act of “Bad Dog!” behavior. Suddenly, a guilty dog becomes absorbed in staring at a spot far away from the eyes of the lecturing human. The tail tucks, the ears curl inward.
My friend shared the story of her dog who thought she got away with raiding the garbage can and eating a container of Cool Whip. Little did the perky pup know that her black muzzle betrayed her crime, and once her error was pointed out all the fun flew out of the moment.
Here’s another animal moment: peppy little Feral Will loves the crabby calico. We enjoy the displays of affection offered and rebuffed. Picture Pepe Le Pew and his casual yet obsessive pursuit of a lovely female, and then picture the lovely female running frantically from him, and you’ve got a good idea of which I speak. Then add the sudden stop, turn and bristle of a cat “that’s had enough thank-you-very-much!” Ears back, mouth open in a Joker-style grimace, tail four times its natural size and a sideways tip-toe skitter.
But my favorite non-verbals are people expressions. These are the ones I collect and hang onto in my memory banks.
Squeezed-tight eyes, hand over chest, other hand fanning face, laughter.
Open mouth, dropped jaw, a twitch of a smile …and mental gears creaking as a response is formulated.
Dawning understanding -- when mental and emotional light bulbs flick on, lighting eyes and dark corners of a room.
Long blinks, lolling head, deep-breathing, stretches, with the occasional jerk to stay awake.
And my all time favorite. The one Rob gave me as we parted this morning. I’d said something witty and turned to look back at him. He grinned, and the twinkle in his eye told me that -- yep, not only does he get me -- He likes me.
Now that’s what I’m talking about.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Scribbles and Scrambles - Waving
My favorite moments...no matter how brightly the sun shines or how dry the skies are...involve waves.
When we've been to the ocean, I've not curled up on the beach with a book to catch rays, or loved the excursions into cute shops as much as I've longed to wander the beach.
The wet sand squishing between my toes and my footprints trailing behind me, marking where I've been, intersected by shore birds -- ahhh -- just thinking about it relaxes me and I can almost hear the surf pounding... No, that's actually my computer fan.
But the lake does the same thing to my soul. Even though I prefer the sand between my toes (okay, I won't EVEN walk through seaweed or water green enough I can't see what lurks beneath -- I'm trying to make a point here. ) and the expanse of monochromatic greys to blue, I am content with the deep green of the lake.
I've decided it's the waves and the expansiveness of the body of water that do it for me.
I think they remind me of God. Maybe even my future with Him. He talks about oceans, quite a bit, actually. And a vast field of untameable, tumultous, full-of-life-water reminds me of how very tiny I am.
I'm okay with that. I can be tiny when my Creator is so huge that He created the seas, and set boundaries for them, and buries my sins in their depths. Yeah, I'm really okay with that.
But the lake does the same thing to my soul. Even though I prefer the sand between my toes (okay, I won't EVEN walk through seaweed or water green enough I can't see what lurks beneath -- I'm trying to make a point here. ) and the expanse of monochromatic greys to blue, I am content with the deep green of the lake.
I've decided it's the waves and the expansiveness of the body of water that do it for me.
I think they remind me of God. Maybe even my future with Him. He talks about oceans, quite a bit, actually. And a vast field of untameable, tumultous, full-of-life-water reminds me of how very tiny I am.
I'm okay with that. I can be tiny when my Creator is so huge that He created the seas, and set boundaries for them, and buries my sins in their depths. Yeah, I'm really okay with that.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Serials and Scenarios - Remembered
The Christian Fiction Blog Alliance is touring Tamera Alexander's Remembered.
Click on the book cover to visit Amazon and here to visit Tamera's website.
And now for the review...
Remembered follows along the same path forged by Rekindled and Revealed. Readers of the Fountain Creek Chronicles should not be disappointed with Remembered's very different story. Familiar characters return adding to the tale for those who've read the series.
Romance lovers, historical fans and those who look for solid, realistic, inspirational fiction will find much to like in Tamera Alexander's third novel.
Veronique Girard travels from France to Fountain Creek...against her wishes. Forced by an emotional request from her dying mother and a city in turmoil, she leaves to seek her long-lost father.
She finds far more than she bargained for. And more than she'd hoped for in this easy to read, sweet story.
Tamera has the dregs questions...come back Friday for the answers.
Scribble and Scrambles - Creature Update
Feral Willand
Lily and Lola
Our monster puppies are growing. Of course I don't have updated pictures at the moment, this was snapped a month ago. They may have doubled in size since then. For sure, they have tripled in size since they dropped into our lives.
Feral Will delights in teasing the puppies which makes for a load of fun trying to keep him from being enthusiastically stomped in return.
This morning, as the puppy owner and I prayed, I wondered if the gift of tongues had anointed her. All of a sudden, while she was praying for the details of our day, she grew more vocal than normal, uttering words in stage whispers and growls. But it turns out she was simply multitaskingly disciplining wrestling puppies who were curious about the coffee mugs on the table and Feral Will who played hide and seek, unfairly and with cruel intentions.
Oh, yeah, there's a whole lot more life in the house lately.
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