tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28323635543831413102024-03-14T04:09:39.420-04:00Book-n-RollMy thoughts on the books I read and the sushi I eat.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872606317733743202noreply@blogger.comBlogger103125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-54680842863588852462013-06-18T22:00:00.000-04:002013-06-18T22:00:55.269-04:00Book Review: Lights, Cowboy, Action by Lesley Ann McDaniel<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-W7ljtURtQA8s0dSmRhzyMEZyzsD0YUiLjia28Bgz01z2MOj4snkgfUlNBGEpEQAwy2cSbXqnHIYc0oBx1VGBGdiqwcap_Vq6mVWeEc2zLBbQuwlVALXdA3krDM_r-SDF7zhtzCc0P4s/s1600/FIRSTWildCardTours2.jpg"></a>It is time for a <span style="color: #990000;"><strong><a href="http://firstwildcardtours.blogspot.com/">FIRST Wild Card Tour</a></strong></span> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! <span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Enjoy your free peek into the book!</strong></span>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><em>You never know when I might play a wild card on you!</em></span>
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<strong>Today's Wild Card author is: </strong>
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<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 180%;"><a href="http://www.lesleyannmcdaniel.com/">Lesley Ann McDaniel</a></span></strong>
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<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 180%;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 100%;">and the book:</span> </span></strong>
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<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 180%;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0373486634">Lights, Cowboy, Action</a></span></strong>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Love Inspired (June 4, 2013)</span></div>
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***Special thanks to Lesley Ann McDaniel for sending me a review copy.***
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<strong><span style="color: #333399; font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">ABOUT THE AUTHOR:</span></span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZCxRtIm3ej21sQ61VxIm_3glQ8W0L1xJMUlW0J7ekZq6P5oLZsDrKaAKfLWTc6eiposJG8rsNQ-BlXOi2n8XdxDpuJd49fh4fZFoqtj7gusOpANFAXaPHv-Qq9e77oQiARco-JcG42I/s1600/Lesley+blog+photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-ZCxRtIm3ej21sQ61VxIm_3glQ8W0L1xJMUlW0J7ekZq6P5oLZsDrKaAKfLWTc6eiposJG8rsNQ-BlXOi2n8XdxDpuJd49fh4fZFoqtj7gusOpANFAXaPHv-Qq9e77oQiARco-JcG42I/s200/Lesley+blog+photo.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
LESLEY ANN MCDANIEL is a lifelong lover of words, animals, and musical theatre.<br />
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Born in Missoula, Montana, she was one of the original Dwarfs in the Missoula Children’s Theatre’s inaugural production of “Snow White”, which is still touring the world.<br />
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While earning a degree in acting at Willamette University in Salem, Oregon, she fell in love with theatrical costuming, and pursued that as a career while nurturing her passion for writing on the side. Through God’s guidance, she has shifted her focus to honing her skills as a writer of romance and young adult fiction.<br />
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Between working as a homeschooling mom and as a professional theatre costumer, Lesley has completed several novels. She would have done more by now if she didn’t also occasionally stop to clean the house and fold the laundry. Fortunately she loves to cook, so no one in her family has starved yet.<br />
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She is a member of the Northwest Christian Writers Association, American Christian Fiction Writers, and a wonderful critique group. A native Montanan and a Big Sky girl at heart, Lesley now resides in the Seattle area with her husband, two daughters, three cats and a big loud dog. In her spare time (ha!) she chips away at her goal of reading every book ever written.<br />
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Visit the author's <a href="http://www.lesleyannmcdaniel.com/">website</a>.
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<strong><span style="color: #333399; font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:</span> </span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kCSNBHdO4T2Dbaj-XZLYkO-0ErFLwrpxA-vIX5lnCI3jiKU0leErR2d3hhP_u2cgigYVBvlFCTXSUZ2qzx1nyG-r9s0i7yDP2ziE3lPQ93MwBbZuqwjuZD9tKHv8lYo6y2EBUstwZrg/s1600/17164187.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-kCSNBHdO4T2Dbaj-XZLYkO-0ErFLwrpxA-vIX5lnCI3jiKU0leErR2d3hhP_u2cgigYVBvlFCTXSUZ2qzx1nyG-r9s0i7yDP2ziE3lPQ93MwBbZuqwjuZD9tKHv8lYo6y2EBUstwZrg/s200/17164187.jpg" width="125" /></a>Will COURTNEY JACOBS do whatever it takes to keep her job as personal assistant to an A-list movie actress? While filming in Thornton Springs, Montana, Courtney’s demanding boss insists she set her up with ranch owner ADAM GREENE as a romantic “diversion”. The only problem? Courtney’s fallen for him herself. Now she’s forced to merge the resurrection of her lost faith, her growing love for this town, and her attraction to Adam with her Hollywood career ambitions. What’s a girl to do?<br />
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Product Details:<br />
List Price: $4.99<br />
Mass Market Paperback: 192 pages<br />
Publisher: Love Inspired (June 4, 2013)<br />
Language: English<br />
ISBN-10: 0373486634<br />
ISBN-13: 978-0373486632<br />
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<strong style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: large;">MY THOUGHTS:</span></strong><br />
This was a cute, fast read. I liked how the author made the Hollywood actors and actresses seem so stereo-typically arrogant. LOL!<br />
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:</span> </strong>
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Courtney Jacobs doubted there could be enough coffee in all of Thornton Springs, Montana to see her through this movie shoot.<br />
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After filling her paper cup with the morale-boosting brew, she headed back toward the set. All around her, sleep-deprived crew members hustled to transform this charming burg into an old western town. She checked her watch. Seven AM. Within an hour, Keith Kingsley, the temperamental director of North to Montana—N2M to insiders— would be ready to call ‘action’, and he wasn’t exactly known for his patience.<br />
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“Move it or bleed!” A rigger bellowed as he charged past, swinging an aluminum grip stand just over her head.<br />
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She danced around a coil of electrical cables then sidestepped a set painter as he examined the distressing he’d given a storefront. Wincing as the gaffer shouted out coarse instructions to his crew of lighting techs, she ducked to avoid a swooping boom pole.<br />
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A contented sigh slipped through her lips. With just four independent films on her résumé— two a year since graduating from college—she felt lucky to have booked a major studio-backed project so early in her career.<br />
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She’d been hired as personal assistant to the star, Angela Bijou—an A-list actress with a reputation for supreme diva behavior and for taking up with her leading men. Angela had made it clear from day one that Jeffrey Mark Caulfield (sizzling from the recent success of The Pharaoh’s Tomb), would be no exception.<br />
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The bleep of Courtney’s cell phone drew her from her wandering thoughts. Balancing her still-full cup on the edge of her clipboard, she opened a text from the key costumer.<br />
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‘Ms. Bju s neded 4 a finl fttng of hr Act 3 pRT gwn 2moro @ 2. B sur sh’s thr.’<br />
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Courtney gnawed at her lower lip. If Ms. Bijou didn’t know about the fttng, it would be one more thing for her to take out on Courtney.<br />
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Hurrying down the center of the newly dirt-encrusted street, she clenched her cup between her teeth and shoved her clipboard under her arm. She flicked open the phone keyboard and tapped out a response while dodging a gaggle of grips positioning an old wooden wagon by the edge of the just-built boardwalk.<br />
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‘2moro @ 2. No woriez.’<br />
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Nearing the area where the first scene of the day would be shot, Courtney hit ‘send’ and scanned the street. Several cast members milled about in costume but—no surprise—Angela wasn’t among them. Giving a cursory glance to the pink berry Swatch she’d been given as a ‘thank you’ from her actress on her last movie, she headed toward the make-up trailer in the hope that Angela had made it to her call on time.<br />
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Striding across the set, she drank in the liveliness of her surroundings. It was great being a part of something this vital. So what if her job at the moment was keeping the leading lady on-schedule? She was an indispensable cog in the machine.<br />
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“Court-neeey!”<br />
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Stopping in her tracks, Courtney spun around to face the familiar angry command. From the first day of rehearsals, Angela Bijou had demonstrated an annoying articulation of Courtney’s name that made the word itself sound like an outright accusation.<br />
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“You had better explain what’s going on here!” The woman stormed toward Courtney with a heated, resolute gait and fire in her famous jade green eyes. Her flimsy peach silk cover-up and matching turban signified that she hadn’t yet made it to hair or wardrobe, and screamed look at me—I’m a star.<br />
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Courtney opened her mouth to respond, but Angela cut her off with a tirade that rivaled Hurricane Katrina.<br />
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“Are you completely incompetent?” Angela screeched as she planted her lithe form two feet from where Courtney stood.<br />
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As the blood rose to her face, Courtney became painfully aware that the entire cast and crew had turned to gawk. “What’s the matter, Ms. Bijou?” She fought to keep her tone level.<br />
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“What’s the matter?” Angela tossed her platinum pin-curled head back with such force her tiny neck made a faint cracking sound. “The ‘matter’ is that I have no water in my trailer.”<br />
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Courtney let that register. All this fuss over a plumbing problem?<br />
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“D’eau Douce.” Angela crossed her willowy arms. “Imported from France. Does that ring a bell? I’m supposed to have four sixteen ounce bottles chilling in my trailer every morning when I arrive.”<br />
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“Oh….” Courtney skimmed her memory. “For…drinking?”<br />
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“Yes, for drinking.” Angela gave her a scowl that implied she should audition for the next season of American Idiot. “I wash my face in pure Norwegian spring water, which by the way I didn’t see in there either.”<br />
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Courtney heard herself utter something about making a few phone calls to Norway as she took a giant step backward. <br />
“Look,” Angela apparently wasn’t done yelling. “I need sixty-four ounces a day. How else am I supposed to keep my skin so youthful and clear?” She drew her fingertips across her youthful, clear cheek for emphasis. “Every. Single. Day.”<br />
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“Uh… okay, Ms. Bijou.” Courtney scribbled out a note on the top page of her clipboard as she took a half-step in what she hoped was the direction of water of all desirable nationalities. A thought stopped her cold. “Was that sixty-four ounces of the drinking water or the washing kind?”<br />
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Angela’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play dumb. Obviously, you knew about this.”<br />
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Gripping her half-cup of tepid coffee between her thumb and her index finger, Courtney flipped through the papers on her clipboard as if to exonerate herself from this allegation. She knew nothing about her actress’ water preference and made a mental note to be sure always to ask in the future.<br />
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With what she hoped would read as a competent smile, she turned to go, smacking into a carpenter as he flew past with an armload of railroad ties. Coffee flew from her cup, splashing across her papers and down the front of her sea green t-shirt. She winced.<br />
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Angela’s shrieky voice rang out from behind. “Check my contract! I need my water every day I’m on the set. I’m supposed to have it!”<br />
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Courtney clutched her clipboard to her stained front and darted toward what appeared to be a grocery store in the next block. If the last five minutes were any indication of things to come, this shoot was going to be a nightmare.<br />
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***<br />
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“Yessir, this is just about the biggest thing that’s ever happened in this town.” Cal wiped his hands on his apron and stretched a long gaze out the front window of his general store.<br />
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Casting a dubious glance at Cal from under the brim of his Stetson, Adam Greene drew in a long breath. It was great that the movie people were boosting the town’s flagging economy, but apart from that he really didn’t see what all the fuss was about. “Say Cal, you got any of those red lentils left? Janessa made a killer stew last week and I’d like her to surprise us with a repeat performance.”<br />
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Cal wrested his attention away from the window. “That sister ‘a yours is gettin’ to be more like your mama every day. A regular Mary Stewart.”<br />
Adam grinned. “I think you mean Martha. Martha Stewart. Don’t tell Janessa that, though. She’s dead set against the idea of making some lucky man a great wife someday.”<br />
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Cal’s head bobbed as he grabbed a jar of beans off a shelf. “Still determined to get outta Dodge now that she’s graduated high school, eh?”<br />
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“She’s got plans.” Adam studied a barrel of apples. “Nothing wrong with that.”<br />
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“Not a thing. I just know you and your mama will miss her is all.”<br />
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“True.” Grabbing the brown bag of lentils Cal had filled for him, Adam raised an earnest smile. He had a full seven years on his baby sister and had been the man of the house since their father’s death when Adam was fifteen. It was strange to think of her leaving the nest. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of an ambitious female—”<br />
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Abruptly, the front door burst open and in flew a young woman gripping a clipboard and a paper cup. She pushed a strand of sandy blonde hair from her forehead with the rim of the cup as she scanned the store, urgency fairly sparking from her hazel eyes. Adam’s gaze dawdled a little longer than he liked to consider gentlemanly.<br />
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As she surged purposefully toward the counter, his eyes followed. She looked young and pretty in a fresh-faced, no make-up sort of way. Judging from the walkie-talkie clipped to her belt, she must be some sort of behind-the-scenes worker, not an actress. A corner of his mouth lifted. Maybe having the movie people in town wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.<br />
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Cal lit up. “What can I do for you, young lady?”<br />
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She spoke with a resolute clip. “Please tell me you carry D’eau Douce.”<br />
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The smile slid from Cal’s face. “Doe Do…what?”<br />
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“It’s French.” She tapped the clipboard with the cup and scouted around some more.<br />
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Sensing that Cal could use a hand on this one, Adam stepped up to the counter. “Excuse me, ma’am. Maybe I can help…uh…translate?”<br />
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“Sure.” Avoiding his gaze, she continued to search the shelves. “Do you speak ‘actress’?”<br />
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“I’m sorry, no.” While he felt for her obvious United Nations dilemma, he couldn’t help but dwell on how pretty she was. “What exactly is this thing you’re looking for?”<br />
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“Water.” She moved a few feet to peruse the refrigerator case where Cal kept the milk and juice. “What kind of mineral water do you carry?”<br />
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Adam cast an amused glance at Cal, whose expression had grown even more befuddled.<br />
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“I don’t…I mean….” Cal stammered.<br />
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Seeing where this was going, Adam chimed in. “You’ll be hard pressed to find any of those fancy bottled waters here, ma’am.”<br />
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As her head snapped toward him, their eyes met for the first time. “No water? But what do people here drink?”<br />
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Adam tipped a shrug. “We drink well water, mostly. We’ve got the best mountain spring water you’ve ever tasted. I’d be happy to—”<br />
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“No. I mean…thank you.” Shifting the cup to the hand that held the clipboard, she pulled a cell phone out of a pouch on her waistband, and started punching in numbers as she moved toward the door. Looking back, her eyes rested briefly on Adam. “Thanks anyway.” With a slight smile, she yanked open the door and bolted out.<br />
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Leaning against the counter, Adam pushed his hat back a touch and folded his arms.<br />
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Cal gave him a good-natured cuff to the bicep. “Shouldn’t you be finishing that shopping?”<br />
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“Shopping?” Adam nodded slowly. “Oh. Right.”<br />
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***<br />
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Courtney surveyed the street as she darted toward the set, her hope of finding a specialty food store growing dimmer by the second. Her mind whirred. The only thing she could think of was to call the safe, actress-free office of her BFF back in L.A.<br />
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“Sheila Macintosh here.”<br />
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Courtney breathed out relief at the familiar greeting. “Thank goodness you’re there.”<br />
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“Hey, Court.” Sheila let out a little titter. “Don’t tell me you’re homesick already.”<br />
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“Not unless by ‘homesick’ you mean ‘desperately missing the Von’s delivery boy’.” Courtney firmed her resolve. “Sheil, I need you to do me a huge favor.” <br />
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“Is it a favor for you or for Angela Bijou, ’cause you know I don’t cater to queen bees.”<br />
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“Consider it a favor to your best friend who wants to stay employed. I need you to source some bottled water for me. I’ll give you all my info so you can order it and have it billed to the movie.”<br />
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“They don’t have water in Montana?” Sheila quipped. “How do they get the mountains so green?”<br />
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“Funny. Of course they have water, just not the right kind.” Courtney stopped walking, not wanting anyone of importance to overhear her plight. “Will you do it?”<br />
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“I’m ready to write.” Sheila’s tone warmed. “Just remember, you owe me a dinner at Mr. Chow when you get back.”<br />
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“On my salary? Better make it Del Taco.” Courtney rattled off the details of Angela’s demand, hoping this wouldn’t be the first of many. “Tell them I need it ASAP. Hire a private jet if you need to.”<br />
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Sheila grunted. “Movie people are weird.”<br />
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“You said it.” She started walking again.<br />
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“Before you go,” Sheila’s voice grew coy. “You have to tell me. Is Jeffrey Mark Caulfield as hot in a cowboy hat as he is in a pith helmet?”<br />
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“I haven’t seen him in costume yet.” Courtney’s mind wandered back to the store she’d left a few minutes before—to that tall, handsome hottie in the dusty blue jeans and well-worn boots. “He’s got nothing on the real cowboys out here, though.”<br />
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“Oh really?” Sheila crooned. “Any one in particular?”<br />
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“Well…” Courtney’s face flushed. What was she doing? She had far too much to deal with to let herself get distracted by an admittedly attractive guy. Especially one she most likely wouldn’t even run into again. Still, she couldn’t lie, especially to Sheila. “Okay, yes. One that I just met was…movie star handsome. And nice too. Really nice.”<br />
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“Uh huh. So they grow ’em handsome out there. Must be in the water.”<br />
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Courtney smiled. “Yeah, the mountain spring water.”<br />
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“So, you will be coming home when this movie is finished shooting, right? Or will you be changing your name to Mrs. Handsome Cowboy and learning to rope cattle?”<br />
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Courtney sneered at the phone. “Oh, you are so very funny. Just get my water ordered and pray I still have my job by the time it gets here.”<br />
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“Sure thing. Oh, and that’s not the only thing I’ll be praying for, Mrs. Handsome Cowboy.”<br />
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Clicking her cell phone shut, Courtney took a deep breath. Sure that guy seemed really great but this was the last thing she needed. She was here to do a job, not fall for some guy who lived a world away from everything important to her. Letting herself get caught up in thinking about him would just be irresponsible.<br />
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Her pace slowed as she neared the set. Why did Angela’s personal drought suddenly not feel quite so urgent? Thinking about the cowboy seemed to have a mysterious calming effect on her. She shook it off. With a major problem to solve, she had too much on her mind to leave her head in the clouds.</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-81812948291130136822013-05-12T08:30:00.000-04:002013-05-12T08:30:00.955-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: Mother Ship by Melody Murray<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
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<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.<br />
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If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
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<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
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<h3>
Mother Ship by Melody Murray</h3>
Mother Ship (N.) - <em>a ship that serves or carries one or more smaller ships.</em><br />
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Raising two boys in India is quite nice, really. We have monkeys, scooters, plenty of dirt, and mountains. The challenges are comical. I found very quickly on that if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. It’s been an excellent motto for our three years thus far, one I learned shortly after our arrival here in June of 2010.<br />
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We’d been in India for just three days when I had my first major meltdown. Our two boys, ages three and four, were sitting in big plastic buckets in our smelly bathroom, covered with mosquito bites, jetlagged as can be. I was frantically pouring cold water over them, trying to scrub off the India grime that had caked on their scrawny little bodies. I was having to hold them like puppy dogs so they wouldn’t scurry out from underneath the cold water. It was a far cry from the sweet, warm, bubbly, happy bath time we’d experienced together for the past four years in the States! Talk about culture shock. They were in shock. I was in shock. I’m sure the neighbors were in shock, too. I’m not sure my boys have ever seen me scream, cry, and stomp that much. <strong>Thank God it is just a memory now.</strong><br />
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Somehow, by God’s grace, we’ve figured out life here. It looks much different than I had ever thought it would look, especially as a mother. We don’t go to the library, make elaborate crafts, play T-ball, shop at Target, sing in church choir, or take family bike rides. I have had to redefine my ideal upbringing for my children and have had to let go of many expectations. But I’ve managed to grasp hold of a new set of dreams.<br />
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My children are global kids. They have an incredible adventure every day. They see the “majority world” firsthand. I think they are some of the most privileged kids I know. I’ve stopped feeling sorry for myself that my kids don’t get to go to ballgames or have a huge tree house or wear cute clothes. Why focus on what I think they’ve lost, only to lose sight of what they’re gaining?
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<strong>My attitude shift didn’t come easily.</strong> I can be quite stubborn. I clung to what I knew and what I thought was “normal” and “right,” as all of us moms do. I’d cry after phone conversations with friends back home who had their children signed up for karate, soccer, and swim lessons, with loads of choices for good schools, churches, and neighborhoods. I had nothing of the sort available for my kids, and I felt bitter and resentful.<br />
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But then I slowly began to change. Slowly, after months of getting over culture shock and cold baths, we began to love this place and the people we were with. We began to know them, understand them, become like them. Our community here became our family. Just this week, I’ve been sick with an awful kidney infection, and my living room has been full of my Tibetan, Nepali, and Indian friends, bringing me food, rubbing my feet, playing with my children, washing my dishes. I’ve never experienced community in this way before. My boys are loved so well by so many. <strong>And they are learning how to love back, even when it’s not easy.</strong><br />
<br />
My attitude shift didn’t come quickly, but when it happened, it took a 180°. I realized how wrong I’d been. These people I live with—their kids don’t have organized sports, church choirs, or fancy vacations either. Their kids aren’t signed up for after-school activities and aren’t becoming multi-skilled elementary school prodigies. Yet, in spite of this, they are content. Like none I’ve ever seen. They love each other. Like none I’ve ever seen. They have very little, yet they have so very much.<br />
<br />
<strong>In the western world of comparisons and endless striving, I believe we sometimes lose touch of the things we actually care most about</strong>. I know most of us moms actually don’t care whether our children are the best at T-ball or whether their crafts look better than the next kid’s. But I think we all care deeply that our kids are loved, and that they know how to love. We all have a common dream that our kids will grow up to be world-changers, to strive for what is right, to love the unloved, to see the world in a different way. These are the deepest dreams of moms. So let’s not forget that the most important things we can give our kids are not the things we can buy them or sign them up for. One of the greatest gifts we can give to our children is to give them sails, let them explore new things, meet new people, and learn to make lasting change in this world.<br />
<br />
So join me this Mother’s Day. <strong>Let’s all be “mother ships,” leading our kids to new adventures, new beginnings, new relationships</strong>. Let’s serve and carry our little ones to places they can only dream of, whether it be making dinner for a neighbor, smiling at the homeless man in front of the grocery store, volunteering at a soup kitchen, or moving to India. Let’s take them with us and teach them how to sail.<br />
<br />
<em>“A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.”</em> —Grace Murray Hopper
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5594" rel="attachment wp-att-5594" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="068" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-5594" height="181" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/068-252x181.jpeg" width="252" /></a>In June 2010, an opportunity arose to work with a small needy community in the Himalayas, so David and Melody Murray and their two young boys packed their bags and moved to Rajpur, North India. Mel has grown JOYN, fulfilling her passion to connect artisans with western markets. They now have a diverse and growing team of Americans, Australians, Indians, Tibetans and Nepalis working together to create a community that strives to take care of each other and bring opportunity to as many as they can. Visit her <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank"><strong>website</strong></a> for more information.<br />
<br />
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-20140939349459837602013-05-11T09:00:00.000-04:002013-05-11T09:00:01.860-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: My Final Words to My Mother by Lisa Takeuchi Cullen<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
My Final Words to My Mother By Lisa Takeuchi Cullen</h3>
<br />
The day had come.<br />
<br />
My mother lay pressed against her pillow, her skin like baking paper, her limbs disposable chopsticks. She had not moved or spoken for days.<br />
<br />
<strong>In those last days we rarely left her side, my three siblings and I.</strong> Between us we had eleven children, the youngest my newborn, whom we had baptized a week ago right here by my mother’s bedside. The children tumbled and danced around the hospice floor, admonished by us to keep quiet, keep quiet! They had already said their good-byes to Nana. Now it was our turn.<br />
<br />
The hospice nurses had told us of the final signs. She will cease to wake, even briefly. Her fingers and toes will turn blue. Her breathing will grow shallow and ragged.<br />
<br />
Then we heard it. My mother took a breath. That’s all it was—a sip of air. We knew it was time. We rushed around her, my siblings and I, and all together began to sob.
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And this is what I said to my mother before she died: “I’ll be all right, Mommy. Don’t worry. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right.”<br />
<br />
Not “I love you.” Not “I’ll miss you.” Not “thank you for everything.” Why? I asked myself that night as I cradled my colicky newborn, both of us wailing. Why did I choose that moment to inform my mother of my own well-being? Why did I feel this was the very thing she needed to know as she drew her last breath?<br />
<br />
<strong>It took me years as a parent to understand: As mothers, that is exactly what we want to know.</strong> We want to know our children are safe. We need to know they’ll be all right as they journey into the world without us by their sides.<br />
<br />
I don’t know if my mother heard me. But if she did, I hope my final words eased her journey just a hair. That she believed and trusted in my well-being, and then let go.
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5562" rel="attachment wp-att-5562" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="The Pastors Wives_LisaTakeuchiCullen_cr Matt Dine" class="alignleft wp-image-5562" height="207" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/The-Pastors-Wives_LisaTakeuchiCullen_cr-Matt-Dine-252x295.jpg" width="176" /></a>Lisa Takeuchi Cullen is the author of <em>Pastors’ Wives</em>, a new novel from Penguin/Plume, and <em>The Ordained</em>, a 2013 CBS drama pilot. Previously, she was a staff writer for <em>Time</em> magazine. Readers can friend her on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/LisaTakeuchiCullen" target="_blank"><strong>Facebook</strong></a>, follow her on Twitter @lisacullen, or visit her website at <a href="http://www.lisacullen.com/" target="_blank"><strong>www.lisacullen.com</strong></a>.
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f1ea7c137/" id="rc-f1ea7c137" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-6349068873535871722013-05-10T07:00:00.000-04:002013-05-10T07:00:16.818-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: The Pursuit of Imperfection by Beth Vogt<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
The Pursuit of Imperfection by Beth Vogt</h3>
In my early mommy-ing years, I was all about perfection. I wasn’t going to be just a good mom—oh, no. I grabbed the virtual performance bar and shoved it way out of my reach.<br />
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It didn’t take long for that bar to come crashing down on my head. <strong>Perfection was toppled by the harsh reality that, at times, I was an angry mom.</strong> I hit my knees and begged God for forgiveness, for patience, for the ability to love my children one day at a time . . . sometimes one hour at a time.<br />
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I embraced 1 Peter 4:8: Love covers a multitude of mistakes, even altering it a bit so that it met my need. My version of 1 Peter 4:8 became: Love covers a multitude of mommy-mistakes. There was no way I could pretend that I was perfect, but I could do everything possible so that my children knew that I loved them, despite my imperfections.<br />
<br />
Fast forward through toddlers and teenagers to being the mother of a twenty-something son, two late-teen daughters, and one (surprise!) elementary-school-age daughter.<br />
<br />
During lunch one day with Katie Beth and Amy, my two oldest daughters, <strong>Katie Beth looked at me and asked, “Do you want to know what the best thing was about you as a mom?”</strong><br />
<br />
Did I? How could I say no to an unexpected “her children will rise up and call her blessed” moment? I assured Katie Beth I absolutely wanted to know the best thing about me as a mom. She looked at me and said, “The best thing about you as a mom was that you weren’t perfect.”<br />
<br />
Oh. I admit I expected something . . . more. I joked with my daughter, telling her I wished she’d told me this sooner, as I wasted too much time trying to be perfect. We all laughed and the conversation moved on.
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5611" rel="attachment wp-att-5611"><img alt="vogtpg" class="aligncenter wp-image-5611" height="523" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/vogtpg-504x654.jpg" width="403" /></a></div>
A few weeks later as a prepared a talk on motherhood and perfection for a moms group, I asked Katie Beth, “Can you tell me again why not being perfect was the best thing about me as a mom?”<br />
<br />
She emailed me a letter that read: <em>So many kids grow up thinking their parents are up on this pedestal. They think their parents can do no wrong, but then when they fail at something or make a mistake . . . it can tend to devastate those kids. Also, it taught me that being a Christian does not equal perfection. So many people think because they are a Christian they have to be perfect, and I learned from you that, while you are a very loving mother, you are not perfect. It helps me know you don’t expect me to be perfect. </em><br />
<strong><br /></strong>
<strong>Our children don’t want perfect moms—but they do want to know we love them.</strong> And maybe by admitting we’re not perfect, our kids will avoid the perfectionist trap too.<br />
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Beth K. Vogt believes God’s best is often behind the doors marked “Never.” After being a nonfiction writer and editor who said she'd never write fiction, Beth has proudly authored two novels, <em>Wish You Were Here </em>and the newly<em> </em>released <em>Catch a Falling Star</em>. Connect with Beth at <a href="http://www.bethvogt.com/" target="_blank"><strong>bethvogt.com</strong></a>.
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-31591602579418226652013-05-09T09:30:00.000-04:002013-05-09T09:30:00.256-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: History has a Way of Repeating Itself by Tricia Goyer<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
History has a Way of Repeating Itself by Tricia Goyer</h3>
Forty years ago a single, young woman was about to give birth. She didn’t know how she could afford a child without her parents’ help. She hadn’t talked to her former boyfriend in months. She had no idea how to reach him, how to tell him she was having his child.<br />
<br />
This young woman attended church some, yet her dialogue with God was stilted. <strong>How could God let this happen to her?</strong> What would her life be like now? A baby girl was born, and upon holding her child this young lady knew things would be okay. Perhaps this baby was a gift, not a burden as she supposed.<br />
<br />
This woman raised her daughter the best she could, and while she wanted to give her child more than she had . . . history has a way of repeating itself. When the daughter became a young woman, she found herself in the same situation—living at home, pregnant and scared.<br />
<br />
The daughter knew she could raise this child. After all, her mom had done it. But what would her life be like? How could God let this happen to her?
If you haven’t guessed already. I was the daughter born to a single mom and as a teenager became a single mom myself. At age 17, God gave me a son. My boyfriend was out of the picture, and I faced raising a child alone with little education, no money and, maybe according to the world, little hope for my future.<br />
<br />
Now if you take this story at face value, I am nothing more than a statistic. According to government research, most daughters of young mothers will be teen mothers themselves. They face lives of hardship, living on welfare for the most part — becoming a burden rather than an asset to society.<br />
<br />
<strong>Yet, I am not a statistic. Why? Because God doesn’t do them.</strong>
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As a 17-year-old pregnant teenager I prayed a simple prayer, “God, I have messed up my life big time. If you can do anything with it, please do.” I dedicated my life and my heart to him and things changed. I had hope in my heart and I started walking God’s way. God brought an amazing, Christian man into my life. John was a wonderful husband and a father to my son. When had a daughter and another one on the way, God did something else unexpected. He gave me the desire to write books.<br />
<br />
This Mother’s Day, my heart is filled with thanksgiving. I’m thankful for my mother who chose life for me. I’m thankful that when I questioned my future, God gave me hope.<br />
<br />
<strong>History has a way of repeating itself in families, but even more important that our history of mess-ups is God’s history of setting things right.</strong> God has a history of seeing something no one else does . . . like seeing a king in a shepherd boy named David, seeing an apostle in a young zealot named Paul, and seeing a mighty warrior in a frightened nobody named Gideon. God’s X-ray eyes see right through any outward characteristics or national statistics. His X-ray eyes scan down to the heart.<br />
<br />
Where have you felt you’ve fallen short of God’s perfect plan? Trust that God’s dream is to turn a mess-up into a miracle. He’s a BIG God with BIG dreams. A God who has made an agreement with us that is eternal, final, and sealed. A God who is strong in our weakness. <strong>A God who sees the future, sees the past and has a perfect plan for me . . . and for you.</strong> It’s something we can all be thankful for.
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<a href="http://www.guideposts.org/sites/guideposts.com/files/imagecache/story/content_editors/story/goyer_article.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.guideposts.org/sites/guideposts.com/files/imagecache/story/content_editors/story/goyer_article.jpg" /></a></div>
Tricia Goyer is a busy mom of six, grandmother of two, and wife to John. Somewhere around the hustle and bustle of family life, she manages to find the time to write fictional tales delighting and entertaining readers and non-fiction titles offering encouragement and hope. Tricia is also on the blogging team at <a href="http://momlifetoday.com/" target="_blank">MomLifeToday.com</a>, <a href="http://thebettermom.com/" target="_blank">TheBetter<wbr></wbr>Mom.com</a> and other homeschooling and Christian sites. In addition to her roles as mom, wife and author, Tricia volunteers around her community and mentors teen moms. Tricia, along with a group of friends, recently launched <a href="http://www.notquiteamishliving.com/" target="_blank">www.<wbr></wbr>NotQuiteAmishLiving.com</a>, sharing ideas about simplifying life. She also hosts the weekly radio podcast, <i>Living Inspired</i>. Learn more about Tricia at <a href="http://www.triciagoyer.com/" target="_blank">www.triciagoyer.com</a>.<br />
<br />
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f1ea7c137/" id="rc-f1ea7c137" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-12469990941807744542013-05-08T13:00:00.000-04:002013-05-08T13:00:03.010-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: Daughter Sing Softly by Lesli A. Westfall<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
Daughter Sing Softly By Lesli A. Westfall</h3>
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5570" rel="attachment wp-att-5570" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="RedBird" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-5570" height="167" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/RedBird-252x167.jpg" width="252" /></a>Along with the visit of winter comes the wet, dull, silent days and gray landscape, even in Southeast Texas. On the other hand, there is always a turn between the seasons. The brightness of spring is just around the corner. And God, in His unique, loving way, proves to us a sign through the things we love and when we need it the most. <br />
<br />
I love birds, truly, any kind of bird! However, one of my favorites is the cardinal. It’s indigenous to some parts of North and South America. An attractive bird to say the least! Bright red feathers, black bill, a metallic chirp with a sweet, crystal clear melodic song . . . and my most favorite feature, for the most part, the male and female are always together.<br />
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For the last two weeks, right outside our bedroom at daybreak there has been a cardinal singing, loudly, wakening me morning after morning. In the deepest sleep, I would hear the bird’s song, and smile, knowing God is near. The daily morning concerts continued. Then, one particular day for my daily devotion, I opened my Bible and my eyes fell upon this scripture:<br />
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<em>“. . . one arises to the sound of the bird, and the daughters of song sing softly.”</em> Ecclesiastes 12:4
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Wow! <strong>How personal God truly is to you and me</strong>. He knows how much I love birds. The little feathered beings always reminded me of the Creator. He placed it in a strategic place to sing, then He led me to His Word and gave instruction for the moment: while waiting for the desire of my heart to become a mother; daughter, sing softly. In our waiting the Creator of life desires for us to worship Him.
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In doing a word search about the cardinal, I found some interesting characteristics. The word "cardinal" originates from the Latin word "hinge." A hinge helps a door or gate to turn. Could this sweet bird be a sign there is a turn in the change of seasons of our lives? Could the waiting to become a mother or answer to a long awaited prayer be a turn from winter’s silent, dull barren landscape to spring?
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<strong>I believe He is saying to us, “As the season turns, Daughter . . . sing softly!”</strong>
Scripture for reflection: <em> “Give me a sign of your goodness, that my enemies may see it and be put to shame, for you, O Lord, have helped me and comforted me.”</em> Psalm 86:17<br />
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A prayer for the day: “Heavenly Father, I ask that you show me a sign of your goodness! I need it Lord. I thank you for your faithfulness to me, even in the littlest things. Comfort and help me as I wait upon you for the desires of my heart!” In Jesus’ name, Amen.
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<em>(All scripture from The Holy Bible, New International Version, Thomas Nelson Inc., 1991.)</em></div>
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/get-to-know-lesli-westfall/attachment/westfall-author-photo-sm" rel="attachment wp-att-4803" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Westfall - author photo sm" class="alignleft wp-image-4803" height="162" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Westfall-author-photo-sm-252x202.jpg" width="202" /></a>Lesli Westfall, author of <em>Dancing Upon Barren Land</em>, enjoys her moments in life by teaching cooking and etiquette to children, finds pleasure in spending time with family and friends, traveling and eating dark chocolate! Most of all, she enjoys sharing God’s love and teaching His Word to women. She is happily married to her man of faith, live-in comedian and best friend, Larry, of twenty years. Visit her <a href="http://dancinguponbarrenland.com/" target="_blank"><strong>website</strong></a>.<br />
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-31771006129545832512013-05-07T09:00:00.000-04:002013-05-07T09:00:11.834-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: Water Spot Mothering by Cynthia Ruchti<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
Water Spot Mothering by Cynthia Ruchti</h3>
For years, a friend and I met weekly for prayer and Bible study. More than twenty years older, Jackie often prayed for her high school children while I prayed for my toddler children who were supposed to be napping.<br />
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<strong>As any mother will attest, when we get serious about praying for our children, we can find plenty to pray about.</strong><br />
<br />
Jackie and I often laid our Bibles in front of us, open on the table. The day I learned the meaning of water spot mothering, Jackie and I had prayed intensely for our children and their wide variety of crises—large and small. We prayed about their uncertain futures and the certainty that God loved them even more than we did. Tears formed, unbidden, as we poured our hearts out to God.<br />
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A series of whispers from the stairway told me my children had found dozens of ways to bypass their naps. But they’d grown to respect the time I prayed with my friend. Even at their young ages, they waited patiently for the “Amen” before interrupting.<br />
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When Jackie left and life pulled me into other things, my Bible remained open on the dining room table. I walked through the room a short time later to find my four-year-old daughter Amy kneeling on a chair, tenderly flipping through the pages of my Bible. I knew she was unable to read more than the simplest words on the page, so I asked, “Amy, what are you doing, honey?”<br />
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Her answer resonates now, decades later. <strong>She said, “I’m looking for the tears.”</strong>
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She knew I’d prayed for her. Finding the water spots, the tear stains, meant something to her young heart. She wanted to see evidence that my prayers for her had moved me to tears.<br />
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How triple true that would be through her teen years! We were just getting started on the water spot mothering concept.<br />
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I’ve relived that scene many times since that afternoon. My daughter bent over my Bible, her tiny hands turning the pages reverently, her eyes searching for a wrinkle in the page, looking for the assurance that I cared so deeply, prayed so fervently, and wasn’t afraid to let the tears fall on the sustaining resource for parenting and all of life—God’s Word.<br />
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<strong>Water spot mothering. Praying with the Bible open. Letting the tears fall on the pages.</strong>
I wear the picture of my daughter kneeling on the chair, bent over my Bible, close to my heart, like a silver locket I click open to remind me of my primary responsibility as her mom…even now.<br />
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/mop-cynthia-ruchti/attachment/cynthia-ruchti_green_couch" rel="attachment wp-att-5582" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Cynthia Ruchti_green_couch" class="alignleft size-medium wp-image-5582" height="201" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Cynthia-Ruchti_green_couch-252x201.jpg" width="252" /></a><br />
<br />
Cynthia Ruchti tells stories of Hope-that-glows-in-the-dark through her fiction, nonfiction, and speaking events for women or for writers. Her recent release—the novel, <em>When the Morning Glory Blooms</em>, observes the heart-and-faith journeys of three eras of unwed moms. Her July release—the nonfiction book <em>Ragged Hope: Surviving the Fallout of Other People’s Choices</em>—touches on life circumstances that send us to tear-hemmed prayer for those we love. Connect with her at <a href="http://www.cynthiaruchti.com/" target="_blank"><strong>www.cynthiaruchti.com</strong></a>, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/cynthiaruchtireaderpage" target="_blank"><strong>Facebook</strong></a>, <strong><a href="http://www.twitter.com/cynthiaruchti" target="_blank">Twitter</a></strong>, or other network spots.<br />
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-60568272863249439972013-05-06T10:00:00.000-04:002013-05-06T10:00:02.143-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: Mizpah by Margaret McSweeney<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
Mizpah by Margaret McSweeney</h3>
On April 14, our family’s precious Pongo passed away. This beloved Chihuahua was with our family for nearly fourteen years. He played with my daughters during their childhood and comforted them during the challenges of adolescence. He rested by my side during breast cancer treatment and worked alongside Dave in his home office.<br />
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Yes, Pongo was always a source of surprises. Before he was one, he somehow swallowed a brownie patch attached to a string of beads and a safety pin. That was his first stomach surgery. Then, the following year he bit off the sharp edge of Mr. Potato Head’s ear. That was the second stomach surgery. Throughout the fourteen years, we were in and out of the ER for dogs. He ate a bag of cough drops in the pantry. He jumped on the table and ate the kids’ chewable vitamins. And the list goes on. . . .<br />
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House guests would always have to place their purses on a table without chairs. Otherwise, Pongo would rummage through the bags in search of his addiction: chewing gum! <strong>But above all, Pongo’s greatest gift and lesson to us was unconditional love.</strong> Yes, Pongo brought such joy to the family for so many years. No one could believe that he actually smiled! He knew how loved he was. I think that is why he outlived his life expectancy by three years after being diagnosed with a heart condition. It was his kidneys and stomach cancer that ultimately claimed his precious life. He passed away peacefully in his sleep at home.
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5609" rel="attachment wp-att-5609"><img alt="mcsweeneypg" class="aligncenter wp-image-5609" height="523" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/mcsweeneypg-504x654.jpg" width="403" /></a></div>
The day after Pongo died, I read a beautiful Bible verse: Genesis 31:49<br />
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<em>And Mizpah; for he said, The Lord watch between me and thee, when we are absent one from another. </em>
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Isn’t that beautiful! Mizpah signifies an emotional bond between people who are separated by death or circumstance.<br />
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Perhaps, instead we can say:“Mizpaw” to express this same emotional bond between people and their precious pets.
Pongo, I love you and miss you so very much. Thank you for being a blessing in our home. <strong>You have left a “fur-ever” heartprint in our lives</strong>. Mizpaw!
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<a href="http://webtalkradio.net/all-images/bios/MargaretMcSweeney1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://webtalkradio.net/all-images/bios/MargaretMcSweeney1.jpg" /></a></div>
Margaret lives with her husband and two daughters in a Chicago suburb. She is the author of <em>Aftermath: Growing in Grace Through Grief</em>, <em>Mother of Pearl, Pearl Girls</em>, <em>A Mother's Heart Knows</em> and the co-author of <em>Go Back and Be Happy</em>. She is the founder and collaborator of Pearl Girls. All the proceeds of books sales from <em>Mother of Pearl</em> (2012) and <em>Pearl Girls</em> (2009) to go support the work of two charities, WINGS AND HANDS OF HOPE. Margaret would love to meet you too. Follow her on twitter (@McSweeney) or friend her on facebook. You can also keep up with Margaret at <a href="http://webtalkradio.net/internet-talk-radio/kitchen-chat/" target="_blank">Kitchen Chat</a>, her weekly radio show.Visit her <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/" target="_blank"><strong>website</strong></a>.
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-47857742770301279272013-05-05T17:03:00.001-04:002013-05-05T17:18:44.081-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: The Mom Who Gives Freedom by Christy Fitzwater<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
The Mom Who Gives Freedom by Christy Fitzwater</h3>
My mom is a reserved, quiet homebody who has lived in the same house for forty years. She has no ambitious career goals or desire for adventure.<br />
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She gave birth to me, an outgoing adventure-lover who has lived to take risks and put myself out into the world, in ways my mother would never dream of doing herself.<br />
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Yet my mother has always given me the great gift of freedom. <strong>She has never cast onto me her own fears</strong> of limelight or reservations about risk but has only encouraged me to do the outrageous things I have attempted to do.<br />
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When I received an award in high school that required me to fly, for the first time and by myself, from Wyoming to Atlanta, Georgia (only having talked once by telephone to the person who would pick me up), she sent me off with enthusiasm. (But her heart must have trembled to allow me to get on that plane.)<br />
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When that award landed me a full scholarship to a school in Texas I had never heard of (the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor), <strong>she rejoiced with me</strong> and did not hesitate to allow me to accept the scholarship. She then drove away from me in Texas, leaving me at a school where I knew no one, and only years later told me that was the hardest thing she had ever done.
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When I called from Texas, at the end of my freshman year, and excitedly announced I had gotten a job and would be staying in Texas for the summer, she said it was wonderful and gave her approval.<br />
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Mom never filled me with doubt about what I could do. <strong>She never cast guilt on me for going on adventures that took me far away from her</strong>. She never poured her anxiety on my head but spoke only happiness and cheerleader words for me.<br />
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But now that I’m a mom, I know.<br />
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I know my risk-taking journey has always cost her something. I know every wild ride I chose required her to choose—either <strong>to build me up or to press me down</strong>. My mom handed me the scissors and, with a smile, allowed me to cut the apron strings and go far beyond what was comfortable for her.<br />
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This last week my son got his driver’s license, and now it is my turn to choose. Worry or a hearty smile—which will I give to him?<br />
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Let us stand in ovation to the mothers who give their children the ability to live freely.
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5558" rel="attachment wp-att-5558" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="christyfitzwater" class="alignleft wp-image-5558" height="159" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/christyfitzwater.jpg" width="240" /></a>Christy Fitzwater is a writer and pastor’s wife in Kalispell, Montana. She is also the mother of a daughter in college and a son in high school. She has an English degree from the University of Mary Hardin-Baylor. Visit her at <strong><a href="http://www.christyfitzwater.com/" target="_blank">http://www.christyfitzwater.com</a></strong>.</div>
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<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-17816232035245230222013-05-04T10:32:00.002-04:002013-05-05T17:18:09.168-04:00Mother of Pearl ~ Mother's Day Blog Series: How I Learned to Give Up Control by Sue Edwards<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/blog/join-the-mother-of-pearl-blogging-series/attachment/imageproxyservlet" rel="attachment wp-att-5544" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ImageProxyServlet" class="alignleft" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/ImageProxyServlet.png" width="200" /></a><strong>Welcome to Pearl Girls™ Mother of Pearl Mother’s Day blog series—a nine-day celebration of moms and mothering.</strong> Each day will feature a new post by some of today’s best writers (Tricia Goyer, Lisa Takeuchi Cullen, Beth Vogt, Lesli Westfall, and more). I hope you’ll join us each day for another unique perspective on Mother’s Day.<br />
<br />
<strong>AND . . . do enter the contest for a chance to win a beautiful handcrafted pearl necklace and a <a href="http://joynindia.com/" target="_blank">JOYN India</a> bag.</strong> Enter at the bottom of this post. The contest runs 5/4-5/13, and the winner will be announced on 5/14. Contest is only open to U.S. residents.
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <strong><a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">www.pearlgirls.info</a>, <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/blog/" target="_blank">subscribe to our blog</a>,</strong> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/" target="_blank">charities</a> that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank"><strong><em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith</em></strong></a> to help support Pearl Girls™.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><br /></strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>And to all you MOMS out there, Happy Mother’s Day!</strong></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
~</div>
<h3>
How I Learned to Give Up Control by Sue Edwards</h3>
<strong>I'm one of those mothers who would like to control everything in my children's lives</strong>. You may be too, all out of the best intentions. I tried frantically to do that for many years until God grabbed my attention and wrestled my control issues from my clenched fists. It happened this way.<br />
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My youngest daughter attended a large university where campus housing was at a premium. Her second year she was accepted into one of the nicest dorms on campus, but the rule was that you could either choose the room or the roommate of your choice but not both. Well, I had heard horror stories of what happened when you roomed with some girls--like men in the room, and I turned into mother bear. I was not going to allow my child to take pot luck in roommates, nor were we willing to give up that choice room.<br />
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I had heard that if your child had a learning disability they would ditch the rule. So I decided to make my case with the administrator who could fix this unfair situation. All week, I was on the phone long distance climbing my way up the ladder to the gentleman who could give my daughter the room and roommate she deserved.
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And finally, I was on the phone with him. We talked for a few minutes, and then he asked me, "Does your daughter have a learning disability?" I answered rather indignantly, "Well, I prefer not to label people." That did it. He bought it. I had done the impossible. I called my daughter, she turned cart wheels on the other end of the phone, and we rejoiced together.<br />
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Only the roommate she had chosen, the dear Christian girl from her church, did not turn out to be the roommate she expected. In fact, she did have men in the room, a lot. And she went home at Christmas under suspicious circumstances. All fall I had to endure calls from my daughter who was trying to figure out how to navigate this awkward situation. <strong>And it was my fault. Some of us are stubborn and God needs a two by four to get our attention, and break us of our control issues.</strong> This was that time for me, and for my daughter. Now, when we are tempted to take control instead of trusting God, we look at each other, remember, smile, and let go.<br />
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God knows what he is doing in your life, my life, and the lives of our children. And he loves our children more than we do, as impossible as that may sound. So trust him, follow him. Two by fours are rather painful. You won't regret trusting your Sovereign Father who has your, and your children's, best interest at heart.
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<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/?attachment_id=5586" rel="attachment wp-att-5586" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="sueedwards" class="alignleft wp-image-5586" height="200" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/sueedwards.jpg" width="170" /></a>Dr. Sue Edwards has over thirty-five years experience as a Bible teacher, overseer of ministries to women, and author. Now, as a full-time professor at Dallas Theological Seminary, she equip men and women for future ministry all over the world. And women everywhere enjoy learning the Scriptures in face to face groups as well as an online community using her Bible studies, <a href="http://www.discovertogetherseries.com/" target="_blank"><strong>the Discover Together Series</strong></a>. To join the online Bible study community or to converse with Sue, go to <a href="http://www.facebook.com/discovertogetherseries" target="_blank"><strong>Facebook.com/discovertogetherseries</strong></a>. She is currently working on a book with Barbara Neumann on mentoring millennials. Married for forty years, she and David are the parents of two married daughters and the grandparents of five.
<a class="rafl" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/f1ea7c137/" id="rc-f1ea7c137" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a>
<script src="//d12vno17mo87cx.cloudfront.net/embed/rafl/cptr.js" type="text/javascript"></script>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-89162958961973612132013-04-08T19:03:00.002-04:002013-04-08T19:05:07.289-04:00Book Review - Christian Mama's Guide to Having a Baby by Erin MacPhersonIt is time for a <span style="color: #990000;"><strong><a href="http://firstwildcardtours.blogspot.com/">FIRST Wild Card Tour</a></strong></span> book review! If you wish to join the FIRST blog alliance, just click the button. We are a group of reviewers who tour Christian books. A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! <span style="color: #990000;"><strong>Enjoy your free peek into the book!</strong></span>
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<strong>Today's Wild Card author is: </strong>
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<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 180%;"><a href="http://www.christianmamasguide.com/">Erin MacPherson</a></span></strong>
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<strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 180%;"><span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: 100%;">and the book:</span> </span></strong>
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<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0849964733"><span style="font-size: 180%;">The Christian Mama's Guide to Having a Baby: </span>Everything You Need to Know to Survive (and Love) Your Pregnancy <br />(Christian Mama's Guide Series)</a></span></strong>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Thomas Nelson (April 9, 2013)</span></div>
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***Special thanks to Erin MacPherson for sending me a review copy.***
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<strong><span style="color: #333399; font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">ABOUT THE AUTHOR:</span> </span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuf2oxYcNdC6zK5UMbM9RoUxu9tjfGQvcd2mNGo6Bs1jEoYRGFtyIJxaqNhLSZ2fNo7NMSzkgaCkoXq0kZgtKkbpk0SiSF_zo2k-M5ScLcnPhkBpZKMTHn1cnN9-fOXkboqgIut6ZpReY/s1600/erinmacpherson_200X300.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/AVvXsEhuf2oxYcNdC6zK5UMbM9RoUxu9tjfGQvcd2mNGo6Bs1jEoYRGFtyIJxaqNhLSZ2fNo7NMSzkgaCkoXq0kZgtKkbpk0SiSF_zo2k-M5ScLcnPhkBpZKMTHn1cnN9-fOXkboqgIut6ZpReY/s200/erinmacpherson_200X300.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
Erin MacPherson is a mom of three who never does anything halfway. When she discovered she was pregnant she decided to write about it—but then kept writing. A former staff writer and editor for Nickelodeon, Erin now entertains parents on her personal blog as well as through freelance magazine articles, devotionals and speaking. She wants to come beside her readers not only as a confidant and Christian sister, but also as a best girlfriend who understands what daily life is all about.<br />
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Visit the author's <a href="http://www.christianmamasguide.com/">website</a>.
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<strong><span style="color: #333399; font-size: 130%;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:</span> </span></strong></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZW9lRipeLKv7bCMGpZR7pUjxMs05llyS8X2gCOZ_AEu1mD6eM9hDLM7upX4L6JAFFVZzxZOD9tK_a09QkJ4ulF8710efBbUzY_xBQPOb6XtFHXSOed5mpJLwToYP5H0ootKOjeRFj9R8/s1600/pregnancybookcover.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZW9lRipeLKv7bCMGpZR7pUjxMs05llyS8X2gCOZ_AEu1mD6eM9hDLM7upX4L6JAFFVZzxZOD9tK_a09QkJ4ulF8710efBbUzY_xBQPOb6XtFHXSOed5mpJLwToYP5H0ootKOjeRFj9R8/s200/pregnancybookcover.png" width="131" /></a>The Christian Mama's Guide to Having a Baby: Everything you need to know about pregnancy—from weight gain to stretch marks to figuring out how to rely on Christ through the ups and downs of the next nine months.<br />
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This comprehensive guide is packed with information that every newly pregnant Christian mama needs—including:<br />
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<li>help for pregnancy insomnia, morning sickness, weight gain and more</li>
<li>advice on how to maintain a godly attitude and outlook during pregnancy—even when you're feeling anything but godly</li>
<li>what to expect from doctor check-ups, your encounters with the scale and labor and delivery</li>
<li>tips on how to survive food cravings, aversions, and even dreaded pregnancy exercise</li>
<li>healthy eating advice for pregnancy that doesn't outright ban ice cream sundaes</li>
<li>ideas on how to keep your marriage a priority when you're pregnant, including a guide for Christian dads-to-be and even pregnancy sex tips</li>
<li>This detailed guide takes you through each trimester with helpful tips, humorous accounts, and supportive spiritual advice--all with a girlfriend-to-girlfriend approach that will help moms feel comfortable as they navigate this life-changing time.</li>
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Product Details:<br />
List Price: $15.99<br />
Paperback: 304 pages<br />
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (April 9, 2013)<br />
Language: English<br />
ISBN-10: 0849964733<br />
ISBN-13: 978-0849964732<br />
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<strong><span style="color: #333399; font-size: 21px;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">MY THOUGHTS:</span></span></strong><br />
<span style="font-weight: normal;">I am loving this book!!! I haven't finished it yet, but it is super good so far! My hubby and I are planning on starting our family soon and I have so many questions and thoughts about pregnancy. Erin does a great job of making it real and uses everyday language that the new mom-to-be can relate to. I know virtually nothing about having a baby and this book is already answering so many of my questions. I love that it comes from a Christian point-of-view too!!! It really puts the whole experience into the proper perspective.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:</span> </strong>
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Introduction<br />
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You’re Havin’ a Baby!<br />
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The fact that you’re reading this probably means you’re pregnant. Yep. You are pregnant. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? If you thought your graduation day or your last birthday or even your wedding day was exciting and exhilarating and amazing, just wait until you hold your little bundle in your arms for the first time. The feeling is breathtaking. I get misty-eyed just thinking about it. That said, you have eight months (give or take) to wait before that misty-eyed moment, so don’t start packing your hospital bag yet.<br />
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I’ve always wondered how God created the heavens and the earth in seven short days and yet it takes nine long months to create a baby. Nine months. Seems like an eternity, doesn’t it? I remember getting so irritated when people told me that my pregnancies would pass in the twinkle of an eye. They swore that I’d be holding my baby before I knew it. That’s kind of hard to believe when you’re carrying around twenty (er, thirty) extra pounds and gagging every time you catch a whiff of someone else’s dinner.<br />
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But, really, your pregnancy will be over before you know it. In the meantime, you’re probably going to need some girlfriend-to-girlfriend advice to get you from point A—the miserable, exhausted, growing-by-the-minute, gagging, vomiting, and sweating point you’re most likely at right now, to point B—the glowing, ecstatic, sleep-deprived-but-you-don’t-care-at-all point that you’ll be at in less than forty weeks. And that’s why I wrote this book.<br />
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With my first pregnancy, the first thing I did after peeing on a stick was head to the bookstore to find a book that would keep me informed about what to expect (nausea, bloating, and night waking) and what not to expect (a glorious time where I could eat unlimited amounts of ice cream while my husband massaged my feet). Not surprisingly, there were oodles of choices; there were pregnancy guides for new moms-to-be, old moms-to-be, young moms-to-be, and tall moms-to-be. There were pregnancy guides for dads-to-be and grandparents-to-be and second-cousins-to-be. But, there was nothing for Christian moms-to-be. So, a few years later, I did what any somewhat sane mother-of-two would do. I wrote my own Christian pregnancy guide.<br />
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The good news is that I’m not going to bore you with medical jargon. It’s not that I don’t like medical jargon (when I was pregnant, I loved reading books that told me all about the medical feats that my body was performing while growing a baby), but I’m not a doctor. In fact, I don’t have any medical training at all (unless you count the fact that I took—and passed—health ed. in high school). So, if you’re looking for medical rhetoric and big-word-laden advice for a magical breakthrough that will quell your ever-present nausea and keep your weight gain to a minimum, this probably isn’t the place.<br />
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However, while my medical expertise stops at “take some Tylenol and go lie down,” I do have some pregnancy expertise. I’ve been pregnant twice. My sisters have all been pregnant. My friends have all been pregnant. Heck, a few months ago, my dog got pregnant. I’ve been surrounded by pregnancy non-stop for the past four years, and as I dealt with morning sickness and weight gain and decorating a nursery, I gleaned some pregnancy knowledge.<br />
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I also had horrible pregnancies. I know. I shouldn’t be saying that to new moms-to-be, but for the sake of honesty, I’m going to throw it out there. I went through the ringer during my first pregnancy and swore up and down that I would never, ever survive but that if by some miracle I did survive, I would never, ever, ever get pregnant again. Well, I survived. I fell in love with my baby and promptly got pregnant again. And you know what? I survived the second awful pregnancy too. And, if we’re being honest, I’d take a third pregnancy (and a fourth), God willing. In an instant.<br />
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You probably don’t want to hear this right now, but it is worth it. Every time you gag. Every time you throw-up into your mouth. Every pound you gain. Every sleepless night. All of it. It’s worth it. Just wait. I promise that nine months from now, you’re going to be emailing me and telling me I was right.<br />
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I won’t say I told you so.<br />
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Getting Into the Pregnancy Groove<br />
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Being Pregnant and Loving It<br />
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You figured out how to actually get pregnant (go you!), and now you have to figure out how to be pregnant. Contrary to popular belief, being pregnant isn’t as simple as remembering to take your prenatal vitamins, which is a feat unto itself. Pregnancy is exhausting, exciting, exhilarating, and stressful all at once, which means that you’re going to be exhausted, excited, exhilarated, and stressed for the next few months. Not an easy thing to be—especially when you’re gaining weight at a rate of three pounds per week.<br />
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I hate to even say this to a pregnant woman, but the next few months might not be the best months of your life. (Sorry!) I think my biggest misconception about pregnancy was that I expected it to be easy. I thought I’d be bubbling with baby-growing joy for the entire nine months. Maybe that’s true for some people, but it wasn’t the case for me. Pregnancy was hard. And stressful. And super annoying at times. And I wrestled with emotions that I’m embarrassed to even admit. (But we’ll get to that later.)<br />
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Interestingly, while I was trying to get a handle on the stress and emotions of pregnancy, I felt an overwhelming urge to draw closer to God. There’s something about impending motherhood that makes a girl really reflect on who she is and who she wants to be. I knew that my future children needed a godly mother, and I knew that I fell (far) short of the mark. This caused me to spend a lot of time reflecting on the characteristics of godly mothers and how I could become one.<br />
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As Christian women, we have to live up to a pretty high standard. The legendary Proverbs 31 woman is gracious and kind and long-suffering and probably never snapped at her husband for leaving dirty clothes on the floor. I’m not even close. I find myself living in a daily battle to live up to God’s standard for my life. I wake up praying that I’ll live with patience and integrity throughout the day . . . and find myself losing my cool before breakfast.<br />
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Yet, at one of the most stressful, emotional, and trying times of my life (my first pregnancy), God drew me closer to Him. I actually felt His presence as I spent time praying and reflecting on my baby and my future as a mother. It’s comforting to hear His voice in a time of need and feel His presence when you’re feeling your worst. And, hearing God’s voice (and knowing he’s there) is great motivation to have a godly attitude throughout pregnancy.<br />
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Of course, I was still the same old girl who couldn’t seem to make it to breakfast without losing patience about something. (Have I mentioned the dirty laundry that is always left on the bathroom floor?) Still, God did show me that purposefully choosing to have a godly attitude resulted in me feeling closer to Him. That, in turn, allowed me to have a more gracious attitude about my pregnancies.<br />
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Sounds a bit trite, doesn’t it? I mean, if it was all about choosing to smile through any situation, then every day would be gumdrops and Preggie Pops, right? Not exactly. But God does call us to be content in any circumstance (even morning sickness!), which means choosing to focus on the reasons we have to be grateful, even when it’s tempting to be grumpy.<br />
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And trust me, when I was pregnant, I had lots of reasons to be grumpy. But, I did strive to have an attitude of gratitude about my pregnancy. Here’s how I did (and didn’t) do it.<br />
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[[a header]]How to Get into the Pregnancy Groove<br />
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[[b header]]1. Get Yourself Pumped Up<br />
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When I first got pregnant, I was giddy with excitement. And who wouldn’t be? I was going to have a baby. I couldn’t stop thinking (or talking) about it. But then I got tired. And sick. And bloated. And suddenly I wasn’t so giddy anymore. In fact, once those pregnancy symptoms kicked in, I turned into a whiney, moaning, self-pitying mess. I resented my baby for making me feel so bad and resented everyone else because they didn’t feel as bad as I did. I resented my job because I had to go to it. I resented my husband because he could sleep and I couldn’t. I even resented my dog because she could spend the entire day basking in the sunshine while I had to actually get up and function.<br />
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So, how exactly do you start thinking about rainbows and baby booties when you’ve spent weeks hugging the toilet bowl? One thing I did was immerse myself in babyland. I bought books about pregnancies and babies. I hung out with friends who had babies. I oogled over baby gear on the Internet and rented funny movies about babies and watched them over and over. The only thing I didn’t do was volunteer to babysit, because that would’ve taken way more energy than I had at that point. But if you’re feeling up to dirty diapers and peek-a-boo, then go for it.<br />
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The point is, the more time you spend around babies (and other mothers), the more excited you will be about your own baby. And trust me, the only thing in the world that is worth nine months of pregnancy is a baby . . . and you’re getting one. So hop on board the baby train (I don’t have to tell you twice, do I?) and start living baby.<br />
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[[b header]]2. Turn that Mommy Guilt into Glee (Or at Least Contentment)<br />
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That resentment I felt because I was sick, tired, and fat quickly turned to guilt. I felt guilty for resenting my baby, who was supposed to be my pride and joy. I felt guilty for resenting my husband, who was honestly trying to help me as much as he could. Mostly, I felt guilty that I wasn’t thrilled to be pregnant.<br />
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I started to wonder if God didn’t approve of my pregnancy and my baby. Crazy talk, right? I know that now, but at the time, I felt so awful and so confused that I started to doubt God’s providence. Of course, once I realized—duh!—that God blessed me with the pregnancy, I wanted to be grateful to Him regardless of how I was feeling. God wants us to be content in our pregnancies, even when we’re not feeling good. Tough job, huh?<br />
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It was a long, uphill battle for me. And I had to constantly remind myself of God’s grace and mercy. But in the midst of the battle, God taught me many lessons I wouldn’t have otherwise learned: how to depend on others, how to trust, and what it means to truly depend on God for strength.<br />
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[[b header]]3. Pray for Your Baby<br />
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Another way to get into the pregnancy groove is to start praying for your baby in-utero. Sounds obvious, right? Well, it wasn’t for me. (I was tired and sick, okay?) It took me several weeks of pregnancy to start praying for my son. I was so stunned and overwhelmed by the idea of being pregnant that the idea of praying for my baby didn’t cross my mind. One day, one of the girls in my small-group Bible study mentioned that she had prayed for her baby throughout her pregnancy and suddenly the light went on. I wanted to pray for my unborn child too!<br />
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I could go into the mushy details about how my husband and I lay in bed and put our hands on my slightly protruding tummy and prayed for our son, but I’m sure you get it. In fact, you’ve probably been praying for your baby since the moment you found out you were pregnant. But, just in case there’s another woman out there like me who didn’t think of it, I thought I’d mention it.<br />
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[[b header]]4. Think About the Pros of Pregnancy<br />
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There are some (okay, lots of) wonderful things about pregnancy. What other time in your life do you have free license to eat extra calories, sleep late, and buy baby clothes without reservation?<br />
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Plus, when you’re pregnant, everyone (and I mean everyone) gushes over you. I remember walking into church as I was just starting to show. Two of the guys in our Sunday school class ran to grab me a chair. My husband got me water and my girlfriend brought me muffins from the class next door. They had blueberry crumble! Everyone oohed and aahhhed. Part of me hated all of the fuss—uh, who am I kidding? I loved the attention! Who wouldn’t?<br />
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But aside from the minor benefits, when you’re pregnant, it’s easy to dwell on all of the things you’re missing out on. You can’t eat sushi. You can’t wear your favorite pencil skirt. Your bras are all too small, and you’re too tired to stay up late watching chick flicks with your hubby (as if that happened before). I remember bursting into tears in the middle of our church group’s Christmas party because the eggnog was made from raw eggs and I was a little uneasy about exposing my unborn child to salmonella. I actually sobbed. Totally irrational, I know (especially considering the fact that there were a million other drink options at the party), but I felt so deprived.<br />
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The thing is, pregnancy isn’t about deprivation. Sure, there are things you shouldn’t and can’t do, but there is also one huge thing that you can do: nurture your own child inside of you. What an incredible privilege. I’m sure some of our husbands are secretly envious of us that we get to do it and they don’t! How else can we account for their sympathy weight gain?<br />
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The best way to get out of a pregnancy funk is to think about the reason for the pregnancy. I know that sounds obvious, but focus on your baby. Focus on the privilege. It’ll help you to forget the pain. And if that doesn’t work, think of all of the things that you can get away with during this brief period of your life.<br />
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[[a header]]Things You Can Do While Pregnant (That You Would Never Get Away with Otherwise)<br />
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Wear flip-flops or clogs every day. Even to church.<br />
Leave the toilet unscrubbed for the entire nine months (might as well make it an even ten).<br />
Order dessert (and eat it all by yourself).<br />
Wear sweats to the grocery store, to work, and to dinner at your mother-in-law’s.<br />
Skip your morning shower. Three days in a row.<br />
Add half-and-half to your decaf (or half-caf).<br />
Send your hubby to Sonic for a foot-long hot dog at 11 p.m.<br />
Eat a foot-long hot dog at 11 p.m and wash it down with Chunky Monkey.<br />
Go to bed at 7 p.m. on a Friday night.<br />
Spend your entire Saturday camped out on the couch watching “A Baby Story.”<br />
Borrow your husband’s t-shirts.<br />
Chat about baby names on a baby names message board.<br />
Go to Babies R Us and camp out in one of their rockers for an entire afternoon. You probably need to test it out so go ahead and take a nap if you’d like.<br />
[[a header]]Pregnancy Rocks (Even Though It Sometimes Stinks)<br />
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The fact is, in spite of all of the nausea, bloating, and constant peeing, there’s also an ecstatic, blissful, giddy joy that comes from the fact that you have a baby growing inside of you. It’s amazing. And no matter how bad you feel, you can still cling to that. I remember being hunched over the toilet puking up my guts and thinking to myself how amazing it was that there was a tiny life growing inside of me.<br />
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It’s okay to be a little ambivalent, depressed, scared, worried, nervous, angry, irritated, or annoyed by your pregnancy. Feeling that way is natural. And feeling that way about your pregnancy has nothing to do with how you’re feeling about your baby. Of course you love your baby! But you don’t have to love pregnancy to love your baby. Just because you’re thrilled to be pregnant, you don’t have to ignore all the aches and pains and annoyances.<br />
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So, enough pep talking . . . you’re ready, right? Time to get down to the nitty-gritty. What are the next nine months really going to be like? What can you do to combat morning sickness? And bloating? And the rest of those icky pregnancy symptoms? And, perhaps most importantly, how much longer (in minutes) are you going to be able to fit into your favorite pre-pregnancy jeans? Let’s talk first trimesters.<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-41978234766138273522012-12-25T09:00:00.000-05:002012-12-25T09:00:02.924-05:002 Pearls of Christmas | Day 12 - Does it Even Matter? by Tracey Eyster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
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Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
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<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
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If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
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***</div>
<strong>Does It Even Matter?</strong><br />
<strong>By Tracey Eyster</strong><br />
<br />
Every day, day after day, for twenty years I have been immersed in the task of mothering. No one told me before I was handed that swaddled bundle how all-consuming the role of motherhood was going to be, or how my heart would be forever altered.<br />
<br />
My heart is swollen from the love that has grown there. A deep love that’s swelling has come at a cost.<br />
<br />
The cost of daily dying to self as I choose to serve the needs of my children and my husband—to grow a family with the end in mind.<br />
<br />
Thankfully I was taught by those older and wiser than me that the building of image bearing children requires intentionality and purpose by two loving, connected parents who are willing to work together for God’s purposes.<br />
<br />
Even when we don’t know the outcome or exact purpose God has in mind for our children—our willingness to put in the hours and to be yielded to His direction is our gift to the Father.<br />
<br />
This Christmas I have had a new and odd wondering that I have been contemplating, a question that has never before occurred to me.<br />
<br />
Who built the manger?<br />
<br />
Did he think the task was too menial?<br />
<br />
Was he weary and tired from the task?<br />
<br />
Did he want to build something more grand?<br />
<br />
Did he dream of working in a way that would bring him glory and attention?<br />
<br />
Did he wrestle with the assumption that what he was putting his time and effort into was not for a grand purpose?<br />
<br />
How could he know the plans God had for that little manger?<br />
<br />
The Savior of the world was going to rest there and do great things.<br />
<br />
Psst . . . Mom, do you see it?<br />
<br />
The Savior of the world has the potential to rest within that which you are building . . . to do great things.<br />
<br />
Take care to put your time, talents, and energy into building well.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong>Tracey Eyster is the happily-in-love wife of Bill and the fun-filled mom of two teens, and she is devoted to her family and is happiest when making memories with them. In 2008 she took her passion for speaking into the lives of moms and created the ministry of <a href="http://familymatters.net/blog/2012/10/08/ten-year-old-with-drivers-license/www.momlifetoday.com">MomLife Today</a>. She is passionate about momlife and is amazed at God’s blessing of allowing her first book Be The Mom to come to fruition. She enjoys connecting with moms through her personal blog at <a href="http://familymatters.net/blog/2012/10/08/ten-year-old-with-drivers-license/www.bethemom.com">www.bethemom.com</a>, and on <a href="http://familymatters.net/blog/2012/10/08/ten-year-old-with-drivers-license/www.facebook.com/bethemom">Facebook</a> or <a href="http://familymatters.net/blog/2012/10/08/ten-year-old-with-drivers-license/www.twitter.com/momblog">Twitter @MomBlog</a></strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-29488627584248637212012-12-24T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-24T10:00:05.205-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 11 - Just Like Mary by Carla Anne Coroy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>Just Like Mary</strong><br />
<strong>By Carla Anne Coroy</strong><br />
<br />
Mary. Amazing Mary. Mother of Jesus. We marvel at her simple, faith-filled acceptance of God’s will for her life. There’s so little written about Mary in the Bible. We know almost nothing, really, about this woman that God chose to parent His Son.<br />
<br />
Many have speculated about the exact age of Jesus’ mother. How old was she, really? What would it have been like to be greeted by an angel—and told you would become pregnant by the Spirit of God?<br />
<br />
I wonder about other things sometimes, though. Like if she had morning sickness, or gained a lot of weight during her pregnancy. Was she overdue, or was baby Jesus born right on time? Did she mistake Braxton Hicks contractions for the real thing before labor really started? Was it a fast labor or did Joseph have eighteen hours to get that place into birthing readiness?<br />
<br />
Most women who have ever given birth to a child have shared pregnancy stories. Everyone’s story is unique and interesting. Surely Mary’s was, too!<br />
<br />
Then there are the stories of potty-training and conversations on how to get the baby to sleep through the night. Did Mary bounce Jesus on her knee while sharing recipes with other young moms?<br />
<br />
We cannot find answers for these questions in Scripture. And as interesting as it might be to share pregnancy stories with Mary over a cup of coffee (maybe in heaven?) and get her tips on potty-training, we really don’t need to know any of that to love the Son she bore.<br />
<br />
But Mary’s example raises questions about me and my own life that get under my skin.<br />
<br />
Am I the kind of woman God will choose to be part of His plan? Do I trust and love my God enough to give faith-filled answers like she did? If there were just a few paragraphs written of my life for future generations to read, would those words reveal a heart of willing submission to God?<br />
<br />
<em>“I am the Lord’s servant,” Mary answered. “May it be to me as you have said.”</em> (Luke 1:38, NIV)<br />
<br />
God has not asked me to carry the burden of His Son in my womb. There are other burdens He is asking me, and you, to carry instead. Are we being the women He needs for the part of the plan we’re living in now? Am I saying to Jesus today, “May it be to me as you have said”?<br />
<br />
During this Advent season, let’s prepare ourselves to be used by God, filled with faith and anticipating His grace—just like Mary.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong><em>***</em></strong></div>
<em><strong>Carla Anne Coroy is a Christian speaker and blogger, and the award-winning author of Married Mom, Solo Parent. She ministers to a wide audience through her website and blog at <a href="http://www.carlaanne.com/">www.carlaanne.com</a>. Carla Anne has served full-time with organizations such as Youth for Christ and Crown Financial Ministries, and is currently developing mentoring resources for women and an international mentoring organization for youth. She also serves as a staff writer for the online magazine Mentoring Moments for Christian Women and is a spokesperson for Faithbuddy.com. Carla Anne lives in Canada with her husband and four homeschooled children.</strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-10759221290309794862012-12-23T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-23T10:00:04.740-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 10 - Christmas Mourning by Tricia Goyer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>Christmas Mourning</strong><br />
<strong>By Tricia Goyer</strong><br />
<br />
As I sat in our living room last Christmas morning, there was a pile of presents under the tree. A smile filled my face, just thinking about the joy and laughter that would fill the house in a few hours when we gathered around to hear the Christmas story, worship Jesus, and open presents.<br />
<br />
That morning as I thought about the celebration of our Lord's birth, my mind was already busy unwrapping. No, I wasn't thinking ahead to presents. Instead, I was unwrapping the many memories of Christmas that I carry on my heart.<br />
<br />
I remember sitting at the kids' table in Grandma's mobile home, laughing and goofing around with my brother and cousins. I remember the doll house my Grandpa made when I was seven and the loving care my grandma took to decorate it.<br />
<br />
I remember the boom box and banana clips from high school and my first Christmas with my son Cory not long after I turned eighteen. Cory was only six months old, but the greatest gift God gave to both of us that year was John—my soon-to-be husband and Cory's soon-to-be daddy.<br />
<br />
There are memories of the kids acting out the Christmas story and Goyer family gatherings in which forty of us would eat in our cleaned-out and heated garage because it was the only place big enough to set up tables and chairs for everyone.<br />
<br />
I also will never forget the first time I celebrated Christmas in California with my biological dad and the four sisters I didn't know growing up. I had a happy heart that day, being with people I didn't know well but who amazingly looked and acted just like me. How cool is that?!<br />
<br />
As I write this, there are faces going to be missing around the tree, to be sure. There's always a sense of missing when the people you love are far away. And that's when Christmas Morning becomes Christmas Mourning. I'm thinking of my mom, dad, siblings, in-laws, and friends, wishing I could fill me house with their faces, their smiles, their laughter. I'm sure you understand.<br />
<br />
It's so easy to center Christmas around the baby who God sent, but we cannot forget the purpose for His coming. Jesus' mission wasn't just about the manager, the angels, and the swaddling clothes. His purpose was to offer himself so that we can spend eternity with Him and those we love.<br />
<br />
The greatest gift is one we've yet to open. Salvation comes to our hearts when we whisper a prayer of faith and relinquishment—when we give up the right to ourselves.<br />
<br />
Like a beautifully wrapped presents under the tree, the best part of the gift is still to come. My mind is anticipating the unwrapping. I can only guess of the joy and laughter to come!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong>Tricia Goyer is a busy mom of four, grandmother of one, and wife to John. Somewhere around the hustle and bustle of family life, she manages to find the time to write fictional tales delighting and entertaining readers and non-fiction titles offering encouragement and hope. Tricia is also on the blogging team at <a href="http://momlifetoday.com/">MomLifeToday.com</a>, <a href="http://thebettermom.com/">TheBetterMom.com</a> and other homeschooling and Christian sites. In addition to her roles as mom, wife and author, Tricia volunteers around her community and mentors teen moms. She is the founder of Hope Pregnancy Ministries in Northwestern Montana, and she currently leads a Teen MOPS Group in Little Rock, AR. Tricia, along with a group of friends, recently launched <a href="http://www.notquiteamishliving.com/">www.NotQuiteAmishLiving.com</a>, sharing ideas about simplifying life. She also hosts the weekly radio podcast, Living Inspired. Learn more about Tricia at <a href="http://www.triciagoyer.com/">www.triciagoyer.com</a>.</strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-62042350174098924932012-12-22T09:00:00.000-05:002012-12-22T09:00:03.277-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 9 - The ADVENTure Awaits You! by Charissa Steyn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>The ADVENTure Awaits You!</strong><br />
<strong>By Charissa Steyn </strong><br />
<br />
God loves keeping us in a place of joyful expectation for what is next. He has mastered the art of surprise. <em>Much to my dismay, God rarely ever lays out steps 1-2-3 for me to see.</em> Maybe you’re like me and you’re a planner. You need time to prepare yourself for what is coming, the unknown grips you with fear, and it’s hard for you to simply enjoy a surprise.<br />
<br />
It’s difficult to understand why God doesn’t like to reveal more of His mysterious ways, but I have a feeling it has something to do with faith<em>. I am quite sure that if I knew everything that God had planned ahead of time my response would be, “No way God!”</em><br />
<br />
But maybe we need to be a little more like Mary when it comes to faith. The angel reassured her, <em>"Mary, you have nothing to fear. God has a surprise for you…”</em> (Luke 1:30)<br />
<br />
<strong><em>Did you get that?</em></strong> You have nothing to fear _________ (fill in the blank with your name) God has a surprise for you!<br />
<br />
God invited Mary into the ultimate season of joyful expectation. He took her on the most miraculous adventure of birthing His son!<br />
<br />
Instead of hesitation, Mary stepped forward, <em>“Yes . . . let it be with me just as you say.”</em> (Luke 1:38)<br />
<br />
Instead of cowering in fear, Mary celebrated in faith<em>, “I'm bursting with God-news; I'm dancing the song of my Savior God. God took one good look at me, and look what happened—I'm the most fortunate woman on earth! What God has done for me will never be forgotten. . . .”</em> {Luke 1:46-48)<br />
<br />
<strong>As the Christmas season is upon us, I can’t help but wonder what surprises God has wrapped up for us under His tree of life? What gifts does He want to reveal to us this year?</strong><br />
<br />
Like Mary, let’s face the unknown, the mystery, the surprises of God with a <em>quiet, yet confident YES! </em><br />
<br />
God wants to show you the impossible can become possible, the supernatural can become natural. <strong>We don’t need special qualifications, just joyful expectation. </strong><br />
<br />
<em>May you accept the invitation of Jesus in this truly ADVENTurous season and embrace all the marvelous, mysterious surprises He has for you along the way!</em><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong>Charissa Steyn is a God-adventurer. She believes everyday holds exciting undertakings that usually involve risk, but always draw us closer to the Father’s heart. Originally from Seattle, she now lives in Cape Town with her South African hubby, Michal and their son David. Together they are doing their best to lead a simple, yet dangerous life of love. <a href="http://charsteyn.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Learn more about Charissa at her blog.</a></strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-55544742655931335642012-12-21T09:30:00.000-05:002012-12-21T09:30:02.245-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 8 - Quieted in His Presence by Cara Putman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>Quieted in His Presence</strong><br />
<strong>By Cara Putman</strong><br />
<br />
It's the week after Thanksgiving. We're racing toward Christmas. Even with Thanksgiving occurring a week early, it feels like a race. When did we decide this organized (or not so organized) chaos was restful, relaxing, conducive to a joyful season?<br />
<br />
When did the joy of gifting something to one we love become replaced by the pressure to find the perfect gift? When did the amount of the gift matter more than spirit it is gifted in? At times like these I need a reason to remember that God can calm my heart when I feel like I'm spilling in a bazillion different directions.<br />
<br />
Grab a mug of tea or cup of coffee. I'll share my peppermint mocha creamer. It's low-sugar. And let's sit together and soak in this truth.<br />
<br />
<em>The Lord is with us</em>. With us. Emmanual. The God with us. Savor that. He's with us. Not watching us. With us.<br />
<br />
<em>He is mighty to save</em>. He doesn't barely save. He is mightily prepared to save.<br />
<br />
<em>He will take great delight in you</em>. Think about a child. Yours or someone else's. Think about the joy that child brings to his parents. That is a pale shadow of the depth of delight God takes in you. Humbled? Thrilled? I am!<br />
<br />
<em>He quiets us with His love</em>. He will, if we'll let Him. It is His will to quiet us with love. Like a child who is content and secure in the knowledge of her parents' love. That's how He wants us to rest. To be quiet. In His presence. At His feet.<br />
<br />
<em>He will rejoice over us with singing</em>. Think of your favorite artist, group, chorus. Think of how their voices resonate and harmonize. Remember how you are swept away by the beauty of a voice raised in song. Then imagine God singing a special song over you. Then consider that it's a song of rejoicing. Just because you are. A song to you.<br />
<br />
Now that you've quieted in His presence, are you ready to go back to preparations. Ready to focus on Him? To find Him in the midst of the Christmas chaos? Because He is the baby in the manager. He is the reason we celebrate. And He's celebrating you!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong><a href="http://caraputman.com/" target="_blank">Cara Putman</a> is an author of fourteen novels and one nonfiction work—plus all the characters and stories still begging to be told. Look for more in the future. She is also a licensed attorney, contract lecturer at a Big Ten University, adjunct faculty at a community college, and active in her church and community. She lives with her family in Indiana.</strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-67227133966827584082012-12-20T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-20T10:00:07.473-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 7 - When God Wraps a Present . . . by Julie Lessman<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>W</strong><strong>hen God Wraps a Present . . .</strong><br />
<strong>By Julie Lessman</strong><br />
<br />
We’ve all heard the adage “it’s better to give than receive,” but <em>never</em> have I agreed more than the year I was engaged to the love of my life.<br />
<br />
It was truly a Christmas to remember—spiced egg nog and snickerdoodles and shimmering presents unwrapped in a circle of love. Of course, we all ooohed and ahhhed over each gift opened, one at a time, reveling in the glow of excitement for giver and recipient alike.<br />
<br />
And then it was my turn. Everyone waited while I tore into a small box, anticipation fairly shimmering in my fiancé's eyes.<br />
<br />
“Do you like it?” he asked, grinning like a little boy when I unearthed a very pretty silver watch.<br />
<br />
<em>No.</em> “It’s beautiful,” I said with a shaky giggle, slipping it on and holding it up for everyone to admire. I quickly gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. “Thank you so much, babe—what a perfect gift!”<br />
<br />
<em>Perfectly awful</em>, that is. You see, when you are a twenty-eight-year-old Type A career woman who is <em>very</em> set in her ways, there are just some things you have to buy for herself—books, costume jewelry, purses … <em>a watch</em>.<br />
<br />
All right, yes, I’ll admit it—“high maintenance” is my middle name because heaven knows I’m one of the most particular people on the planet, especially when it comes to watches. They have to be digital, waterproof, have a day and date window, an alarm, chronograph, second hand, both silver and gold metal to wear with either silver or gold jewelry, stretch band skinny enough to fit my wrist . . . and a GPS. Okay, I’m pulling your watch chain on the last one, but you get the picture—NOT easy to find, especially with numbers big enough for someone blind as a bat.<br />
<br />
So, yes, I faked it, of course, thanking my soon-to-be husband for the “prettiest watch I had ever owned,” because it was—I just didn’t like it. But did I “fake it” with God? Uh, no. I went straight to His throne in prayer and <em>begged</em> Him to help me love this watch because the man I loved gave it to me and I just flat-out didn’t want to hurt his feelings. I even went so far as to write the prayer request on a piece of paper and put it in my Bible so I could “wrap” it in prayer every single day, which I did.<br />
<br />
Until the fateful moment years later when my husband used my Bible one day and found the note.<br />
<br />
“You don’t like your watch??” he says, confronting me with hurt in his tone while his eyes flicked to the pretty watch on my wrist.<br />
<br />
“What are you talking about?” I asked, somewhat confused.<br />
<br />
He held up the note. “You told God you hated it in this note I found in your Bible.”<br />
<br />
Uh-oh . . . BUSTED!<br />
<br />
“Oh, babe,” I said with my brightest smile and a quick kiss on the lips. “That was then and this is now. It’s perfect for me, just like you, and I absolutely love it.<br />
<br />
And you know what? I did!!<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong>Award-winning author of “The Daughters of Boston” and “Winds of Change” series, Julie Lessman was ACFW’s 2009 Debut Author of the Year and voted #1 Romance Author of the year in Family Fiction magazine’s 2012 and 2011 Readers Choice Awards. Winner of 14 RWA awards, she also appeared on Booklist’s 2010 list for Top 10 Inspirational Fiction and has just released her 7<sup>th</sup> novel, A Light in the Window: An Irish Christmas Love Story. You can contact Julie at <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.julielessman.com">her website</a>, on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Julie-Lessman/98874268454">Facebook</a>, on Twitter at @julielessman, or read excerpts of her favorite romantic and spiritual scenes from each of her books at <a href="http://www.julielessman.com/excerpts/">http://www.julielessman.com/excerpts/</a>.</strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-52309716950242395912012-12-19T20:58:00.002-05:002012-12-19T20:58:34.240-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 6 - Year of Adversity Brings Joy by Leslie Gould<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the</strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>Year of Adversity Brings Joy</strong><br />
<strong>By Leslie Gould</strong>
<br />
<br />
I’ve been writing Amish fiction for nearly three years now—telling stories about non-resistant people who live a simple life. It’s a nice reprieve from my own life.<br />
<br />
When my husband, Peter, joined the Army Reserve back in the mid 1980s, I wasn’t thrilled about it. Nor did I believe him when he said he’d probably never see action. Sure, the Cold War was ending and—for a short time—all seemed well in the world, but I had a degree in history. I knew better. I didn’t want to be a controlling wife (as new to the job as I was!) and come out and say he absolutely couldn’t do it. And it did help that he was joining a medical unit. Still I had my reservations.<br />
<br />
We’ve been far more fortunate than many military families, but still it’s been quite a ride. The first exciting episode began in 1990 when Peter flew to Germany on Christmas Eve to work in an Army hospital during Desert Storm, leaving me behind with our two young sons. During the next twenty years, Peter went from being a Lt. to being a Col. and commanding a unit. Countless maneuvers and a mobilization occurred during that time, but his Army Reserve career culminated in his deployment to Afghanistan in 2011.<br />
<br />
My days throughout last year were an odd combination of hearing the daily news from a war zone via Skype and then writing about the plain life of the Amish. By last December I was working on my third Amish novel of the year while, in contrast, Peter and his field hospital staff had cared for hundreds of NATO soldiers and Afghan nationals, endured ten months of rocket fire, and continued to grieve the killing of one of their own.<br />
<br />
Surprisingly, what seemed like it might be our worst Christmas ever, even harder than in 1990, wasn’t. Our four children (one teen and three young adults now) rallied to help make it a memorable day. We counted our blessings—Peter was well, we had all we needed, and God was at work in the life of our family. The result was an underlying joy, deeper than what we’d felt during past Christmases.<br />
<br />
In reflection, I wrote: <em>When it started, I thought 2011 might be one of our worst years. But it hasn’t been. Sure, it’s been one of our hardest, but a lot of good has come from it.</em><br />
<br />
<em>That was evident on Christmas morning as we Skyped with Peter. We were so thankful for the good connection and for all of us to be “together” that we hardly noticed we really weren’t.</em><br />
<br />
This December, Peter is back at his civilian job (as a manager for a hospital corporation) and also commanding a nearby Army Reserve unit, which means one weekend a month and plenty of evenings—but no rockets or causalities.<br />
<br />
I’m working on a new Amish novel and still enjoying my “time” with those who practice non-resistance, which doesn’t discount the appreciation I have for my husband’s service. I’ve even grown to the place where I’m thankful he joined the military. They’ve served each other well.<br />
<br />
Our year of adversity resulted in a deep joy. I’m pretty sure it will carry over to this Christmas as well.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong>Leslie Gould is the award-winning author of fifteen novels, including the #1 bestseller and Christy Award winner The Amish Midwife, co-written with Mindy Starns Clark. Her latest release is Courting Cate, a retelling of the “Taming of the Shrew.” Leslie lives in Portland, Oregon with her husband, Peter, and their four children. <a href="http://www.lesliegould.com/">www.lesliegould.com</a></strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-25490770613302498392012-12-18T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-18T10:00:03.171-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 5 - Will They Know What It Cost? by Glynnis Whitwer<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>Will They Know What it Cost?</strong><br />
<strong>By Glynnis Whitwer</strong><br />
<br />
My daughter Cathrine went on a field trip to the Grand Canyon when she was in fourth grade. As I picked her up upon her return, she couldn’t wait to show me an adorable little stuffed brown bear she’d bought as a gift. She started to say that it was for everyone—meaning her three brothers and sister—but then her words got jumbled. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried to explain how she ran out of money when trying to buy gifts. Her distress was obvious.<br />
<br />
To understand fully, it might help to know that Cathrine was born in Africa and experienced deprivation of every sort for the first eleven years of her life. At thirteen years old, she was only in fourth grade. And although she has made remarkable gains, even now she struggles with communication and math—especially money.<br />
<br />
Later that night I finally understood what Cathrine was trying to tell me about the bear. She had taken twenty dollars of her own money to buy herself a souvenir. But before buying herself something, she wanted to buy some small gifts. So she started with two of her teachers and bought them each a small ring with the first initial of their last names. I looked at the price on the rings and realized each was $3.99. Times that by two, add tax, and Cathrine would have been left with eleven dollars for other gifts and herself.<br />
<br />
I imagine she stood at the gift store counter bewildered by what she had just done. She was probably embarrassed to ask any of her classmates for help. And maybe the teacher wasn't around. There she stood with just over half of her money, and three brothers and a sister left to buy for. She decided to get a group gift, and that’s where the bear came in.<br />
<br />
Standing in our kitchen, looking at the three items she purchased, I smiled brightly and told her everyone was going to love their gifts and that she’d made wonderful purchases. She smiled back, and the night ended well.<br />
<br />
The next morning as she wrapped up the little rings, I kept thinking about those two teachers who were going to receive a gift that day. All they would see is a little silver ring. I knew they would be very loving and appreciative. But would they truly understand the sacrifice Cathrine made?<br />
<br />
Would they understand their gifts cost Cathrine half of what she had? Would they ever know the frustration and worry Cathrine felt as she realized she didn't have enough to buy her family any gifts? Would they treasure those little rings, or would they put them in a drawer with gifts from other students throughout the year?<br />
<br />
As I pondered these thoughts, I considered a gift I was given two thousand years ago: Jesus. God sent His Son into the world as a baby, knowing He would die on a cross for me. The cost of this gift staggers me.<br />
<br />
As I decorate my tree and shop for my family, I’m reminded of what my freedom cost my Heavenly Father. Do I truly understand the sacrifice of that gift? Do I understand the anguish God the Father must have felt sending His Son? Do I treasure this gift, or do I take it for granted?<br />
<br />
Christmas is a time for celebration. But it’s also a time to remember God’s sacrifice. For it is in understanding the cost, that we fully appreciate the gift.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<strong>***</strong></div>
<em><strong>Glynnis Whitwer is an executive director with Proverbs 31 Ministries. She is one of the writers of Encouragement for Today, the Proverbs 31 e-mail devotions, with over 500,000 daily readers. Her newest book, <a href="http://shopp31.com/iusedtobesoorganizedhelpforreclimingorderandpeace.aspx">I Used to be So Organized</a>, was released last fall. Glynnis, her husband Tod, and their five children live in Glendale, Arizona. Visit <a href="http://www.glynniswhitwer.com/">www.GlynnisWhitwer.com</a> for more information.</strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-57977504184715731532012-12-17T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-17T10:00:03.858-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 4 - A Mistletoe Medley by Margaret McSweeney<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the</strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>A Mistletoe Medley</strong><br />
<strong>By Margaret McSweeney</strong><br />
<br />
“You have breast cancer.” Those four words my doctor said the week of Mother’s Day 2012 have forever changed my life. Mere months after my fiftieth birthday, I encountered this unexpected “lump in the road” and ventured through a major detour after reaching my half-century mark.<br />
<br />
Through this “grit,” God has covered me with His amazing grace! At the same time of my diagnosis, two books released: <em>Mother of Pearl: Luminous Lessons and Iridescent Faith </em>along with <em>Aftermath: Growing in Grace Through Grief.</em> During this Christmas season, I rejoice that my cancer was caught and treated at an early stage. After six weeks of “daily radiance” (AKA radiation therapy), I started my daily dose of Tamoxifen to help battle any potential cells that might cause a recurrence. Thank you for your continued thoughts and prayers.<br />
<br />
While writing <em>Aftermath</em> and sharing my journey of grief as an adult orphan, I experienced several “hugs from heaven” as I discovered family letters, journals, and even a video in which my mother shares her faith. This is a mistletoe medley from my mother’s heart:<br />
<br />
<em>Each Christmas season my father used to go down into the woods behind our home and bring us back some mistletoe. It was a present that my sister and I loved. We’d tie it with bright ribbons and would hang it over several doorways in the house.</em><br />
<br />
<em>It was always fun of course for a Christmas party, but it came to mean more than that to us. It seemed to become a symbol of the meaning of Christmas: Love, God’s love for the world that prompted Him to send Christ to become our Savior. Somehow it seemed to enhance our love for each other as a family. And we found ourselves stepping under the mistletoe to give someone a hug or to plant a kiss on someone’s cheek and say, “I love you.”</em><br />
<br />
I thought of these mistletoe Christmases during my mother’s losing battle with cancer. I penned my thoughts like this:<br />
<br />
Illness, you ugly parasite!<br />
<br />
Like mistletoe, you’ve entrenched yourself upon my body!<br />
<br />
As you bloom and grow, you feed upon my strength.<br />
<br />
I shall fight!<br />
<br />
Battalions stand by to help!<br />
<br />
My doctor’s scalpel will sever you.<br />
<br />
Modern medicine will shrivel you.<br />
<br />
You shall fall to the ground,<br />
<br />
And I shall stand again strong and well.<br />
<br />
But what if I cannot conquer you?<br />
<br />
If you are with me still<br />
<br />
As my constant, inevitable companion,<br />
<br />
I pray that God will help me<br />
<br />
Learn to live with you in peace<br />
<br />
And somehow discover how you, my enemy—<br />
<br />
Like mistletoe at Christmas—<br />
<br />
Can serve some useful purpose.<br />
<br />
There are times when we cannot rid our lives of things that hurt such as pain or grief, loss, illness, sorrow. Sometimes they’re with us as our inevitable companions and we must learn to make peace with them.<br />
<br />
Those are the times when we can ask God through Christ to help us transform the loneliness, the pain, the grief, the loss-symbolically into something that can serve a useful purpose in our lives.<br />
<br />
May you feel an extra “hug from heaven” this Christmas season from the loving arms of our Heavenly Father. God is present, and He knows your name!<br />
<i>*Text quoted from Aftermath (New Hope, 2012) by Margaret McSweeney, pp 114-115
</i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong><em>Margaret McSweeny is a well-published author and freelance writer for the 411 Voices and the Daily Herald, the largest suburban Chicago newspaper. She is the author of Aftermath, A Mother's Heart Knows and Go Back and Be Happy. She is also the founder of Pearl Girls™ and the general editor of the Pearl Girls™ books; Mother of Pearl and Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace. All proceeds from the sales of the Pearl Girls™ books go to charity. For the past five years, she has served on the board of directors for WINGS, an organization that helps abused women and their children get a new start in life. Margaret would love to meet you too. Follow her on <a href="http://www.twitter.com/mcsweeney" target="_blank">twitter</a> or friend her on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1422308888" target="_blank">facebook</a>. You can also keep up with Margaret at<a href="http://webtalkradio.net/shows/kitchen-chat/" target="_blank">Kitchen Chat</a> or the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls</a> blog. Margaret lives with her husband and two daughters in the Chicago suburbs.</em></strong>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-19753796074902199072012-12-16T10:00:00.000-05:002012-12-16T10:00:06.602-05:0012 Pearls of Christmas | Day 3 - Who is Mr. Carbunkle? by Debora M. Coty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>Who is Mr. Carbunkle?</strong><br />
<strong>By: Debora M. Coty</strong><br />
<br />
In a dream this November, I was playing Clue (remember that board game from your childhood?) with three friendly strangers. We were each moving our pieces from room to room in the mysterious mansion trying to figure out who-done-it.<br />
<br />
So far we knew it wasn’t Miss Scarlet in the parlor with a candlestick . . . or Colonel Mustard in the drawing room with a wrench.<br />
<br />
With a voice bursting with sudden enlightenment, the player to my right announced, “Why, it’s Mr. Carbunkle!*”<br />
<br />
My other two opponents and I looked at one another in bewilderment. Everyone knew there was no such character in this game.<br />
<br />
It seemed my lot to state the obvious. “Who is Mr. Carbunkle?”<br />
<br />
The words continued to ring in my head as I sat straight up in bed. I must have spoken the question aloud to jerk me awake so.<br />
<br />
<em>Who is Mr. Carbunkle? </em><br />
<br />
And then I knew. I knew just as surely as if the Almighty had sent me an e-mail titled, “Hey, Deb, here’s your answer.”<br />
<br />
I had been praying for several weeks about how Papa God would like me to use my writing tithe this year. It’s been my custom, for the nine years I’ve written professionally, to give away each December (anonymously, if possible) ten percent of that year’s income from my writing ministry to someone the Lord designates.<br />
<br />
The sum isn’t really all that much in the grand scheme of things (contrary to popular belief, Christian writers don’t get rich), but it’s enough to bless somebody in their celebration of Christ’s birth with the knowledge that their Heavenly Father knows about their needs . . . and <em>cares</em>.<br />
<br />
I thought about the only Mr. Carbunkle I knew—the one who attends our church, a quiet, unassuming man who’d been out of work for more than a year. I confess that I knew about his plight but hadn’t really given it much thought—or prayer—lately. Although he never complained, I knew his family must be struggling.<br />
<br />
So Mr. Carbunkle it is.<br />
<br />
You know, there are lots of Mr. Carbunkles out there who would be blessed mightily by a love-gift from you this Christmas. It doesn’t have to be money; it could be help with yard work, or home repairs, or a loaf of banana bread, or best of all, a gift of your time. Thirty minutes of your undivided attention for a lonely soul who needs to know Papa God knows his or her needs … and cares.<br />
<br />
Who is <em>your </em>Mr. Carbunkle?<br />
<br />
Don’t have a Clue? I know someone who does. Just ask Him.<br />
<br />
*Name changed for privacy
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><a href="http://deboracoty.com/" target="_blank"><strong>Debora Coty</strong></a> is an occupational therapist, a piano teacher, and a freelance writer. She's also involved in the children's ministry at her church and is an avid tennis player. Debora began writing to fill the void when her last child left for college, and it has since become a passion. Debora has a real knack for getting across sound biblical concepts with a refreshing lightheartedness as attested in her monthly newspaper column entitled "Grace Notes: God's Grace for Everyday Living." Look for <a href="http://deboracoty.com/deboras-books/fear-faith-a-fistful-of-chocolate/" target="_blank">Fear, Faith and a Fist Full of Chocolate</a> in February of 2013.
</em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-17287684298735593142012-12-15T22:30:00.000-05:002012-12-15T22:30:01.042-05:00Welcome to the 12 Pearls of Christmas! Day 2 - An Inexpensive New Christmas Tradition by Christy Fitzwater<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the </strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>An Inexpensive New Christmas Tradition</strong><br />
<strong>By: Christy Fitzwater</strong><br />
<br />
I was invited to play some Christmas carols on the piano for a senior-adult luncheon, but before I got up to play they had a time for the seniors to share what they remembered as their favorite Christmas gifts.
<br />
<br />
There was talk of new bicycles, a pony, and a new dress.<br />
<br />
Then one elderly man took the microphone and said, “An orange.” When he was young, an orange was a rare treat. As he spoke, he got choked up and had to stop talking to collect himself. He explained that his Sunday School was giving an orange for anyone who memorized a Bible verse. He tearfully described earning that delicious orange and slowly savoring every bite. When he was done eating the orange, he put the peel on the furnace so it would dry, and then he chewed on the peel.<br />
<br />
He said with conviction, “We just don’t know <strong><em>how rich we are</em></strong> in this country.”<br />
<br />
Christmas is usually the time when I feel broke. I tuck away money for gifts all year long, but money doesn’t go very far these days. My husband and I love to spoil our kids and try to scheme how to get them a big-ticket item. We’ve enjoyed the Christmas mornings when we’ve been able to enjoy watching our kids open such gifts as an electric guitar or an iPad.<br />
<br />
I stopped to imagine how our whole family would feel if, on Christmas morning, the only gift under the tree was a small basket cradling an orange for each of us. I think we would feel disappointment and great loss. What would we do the rest of the morning if not consumed by opening gift after gift? Where would the focus be?<br />
<br />
Our years of wealth make thankfulness for an orange seem ludicrous.<br />
<br />
As I processed this man’s story, I decided what we lack at Christmas isn’t money to buy nice gifts—it’s gratitude to relish the simple treasures we enjoy every day.<br />
<br />
This Christmas I am going to begin <strong><em>a new tradition</em></strong> for my family, and I would invite your family to do the same. I am going to place a small basket with four oranges under the tree, along with a printed copy of the man’s story of the orange. We’re going to pause at some point in the morning and each hold an orange while we read the story. And then we’re going to hold those oranges up to our noses and breathe in the fragrance God built into it, peel it slowly, and enjoy each juicy bite. And while we eat it, we’ll each speak thankfulness to the Lord for the grace He has poured into our lives.<br />
<br />
In that moment, we’ll know how rich we are.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<em><strong>Christy Fitzwater is a writer and pastor’s wife living in Kalispell, Montana. She is the mother of a daughter in college and a high-school boy. Read her personal blog at <a href="http://christyfitzwater.com/" target="_blank">christyfitzwater.com</a>.</strong></em>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-31567279911460788362012-12-15T20:25:00.000-05:002012-12-15T21:16:51.402-05:00Welcome to the 12 Pearls of Christmas! Day 1 - God With Us...and Us With Him by Susan May Warren<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" class="alignright size-full wp-image-3442" height="125" src="http://litfusegroup.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/12-pearls-log.png" title="12 pearls " width="200" /></a></div>
<strong>Welcome to the</strong><strong>12 Pearls of Christmas blog series</strong><strong>!</strong><br />
<br />
Merry Christmas from <a href="http://pearlgirls.info/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls™</a>! We hope you enjoy these Christmas “Pearls of Wisdom” from the authors who were so kind to donate their time and talents! If you miss a few posts, you’ll be able go back through and read them on this blog throughout the next few days.<br />
<br />
<strong>We’re giving away a pearl necklace in celebration of the holidays, as well as some items (books, a gift pack, music CDs) from the contributors! </strong><a href="https://www.facebook.com/PearlGirlsCommunity/app_228910107186452">Enter now on Facebook</a> or at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/2012/12/11/12pearlsgiveaways/" target="_blank">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<strong> </strong>The winner will announced on January 2, 2013 at the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.blogspot.com/">Pearl Girls blog</a>.<br />
<br />
If you are unfamiliar with Pearl Girls™, please visit <a href="http://www.pearlgirls.info/">www.pearlgirls.info</a> and see what we’re all about. In short, we exist to support the work of charities that help women and children in the US and around the globe. Consider purchasing a copy of <em><a href="http://bookstore.inspiringvoices.com/Products/SKU-000475734/Mother-of-Pearl.aspx" target="_blank">Mother of Pearl</a>,</em> <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/books"><em>Pearl Girls: Encountering Grit, Experiencing Grace</em></a> or one of the <a href="http://margaretmcsweeney.com/pearlgirls/">Pearl Girls products</a> (all GREAT gifts!) to help support Pearl Girls.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<strong>God with Us . . . And Us with Him</strong><br />
<strong>By: Susan May Warren</strong><br />
<br />
Every year over labor day weekend, the Warren family has a MWE. Mandatory Warren Event. It’s a call to come home and enjoy the long weekend with our favorite people. Since my children have left for college, I relish every second of this weekend—the laughter in the kitchen, the long conversations in the family room, the frenzy of backyard football, the quietness of the morning as we drink coffee on the deck and watch the sunrise. I cherish these people, and when they are with me, I drink in their presence.<br />
<br />
I’ve been reading the prophecies about Christ this season and came across Isaiah 7:14, <i>Therefore the Lord himself will give you<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b> </b></span>a sign: The virgin <strong></strong>will conceive and give birth to a son, and will call him Immanuel.</i><br />
<br />
I am struck by the word <em>Immanuel.</em> God with us. The closest I get to comprehending this is reading about how Jesus’ loved his disciples. Surely they relished the time with him more profoundly after his resurrection, knowing he would soon leave.<br />
<br />
Thankfully, he didn’t leave them for long and sent His Holy Spirit. God . . . <em>still with them. </em><br />
<br />
As I consider the magnitude of this God who would come to earth, who would abide with the disciples, and then with me, I have to wonder not only<em> do I relish God’s presence in my life</em>, but <em>does God relish time with me</em>? Am I committed to embracing His entrance into my life? Am I even making the effort to see Him?<br />
<br />
Imagine that during our MWE weekend, I ignored my children, and they, me? I would lose the joy of their presence.<br />
<br />
It is not surprising to me that the Jewish people did not recognize their Savior. After all, who would guess that the Almighty might package himself as a baby and appear among them, fragile and dependent? But today, we know the story, we know the miracles, we know the truth, and God invites us into an abundant relationship, one that He wishes to relish, one that will change us. A relationship that will slake our thirsts and satisfy our hungers. One that reminds us that we are never alone.<br />
<br />
Because every day we are a mandatory event to our Immanuel.<br />
<br />
This season, look for the ways that God is your Immanuel, with you, every day.
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
***</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<em><strong>Susan May Warren is the best-selling, award-winning author of over 40 novels. With over 750,000 books in print, her stories of family, romance and adventure have earned her acclaim and reader fans from around the world. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/www.susanmaywarren.com">Visit her website</a> for upcoming books and sneak peeks!</strong></em></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-72014551490330390112012-04-25T19:45:00.000-04:002012-04-25T19:45:03.407-04:00Book Review: Heat Rises by Richard Castle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8gTesF2_8B99xT35y2YStlVN7gfVT9v6sq7ptBoS0c_nbqye1cSbh-uhT4uCNGkneIp1ovdCmVIedq2Z99mgB2ZMpjj1BIaK6Xpd187vSL-8LuKQ1aW9ECCG6rOPTgi35IG1ENkvaDDd4/s1600/Castle+Heat+Ries.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/AVvXsEj8gTesF2_8B99xT35y2YStlVN7gfVT9v6sq7ptBoS0c_nbqye1cSbh-uhT4uCNGkneIp1ovdCmVIedq2Z99mgB2ZMpjj1BIaK6Xpd187vSL-8LuKQ1aW9ECCG6rOPTgi35IG1ENkvaDDd4/s320/Castle+Heat+Ries.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">Book Description from RichardCastle.net</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The bizarre murder of a parish priest at a New York bondage club is just the tip of an iceberg that leads Nikki Heat to a dark conspiracy that reaches all the way to the highest level of the NYPD. But when she gets too close to the truth, Nikki finds herself disgraced, stripped of her badge and out on her own with nobody she can trust. Except maybe the one man in her life who's not a cop. Reporter Jameson Rook.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In the midst of New York's coldest winter in a hundred years, there's one thing Nikki is determined to prove. Heat Rises.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;">My Thoughts</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Just like the last two Richard Castle books, this one stayed true to Richard Castle-style. The characters were just like their alter-egos from the hit TV show <i>Castle</i>. The murder plot was intriguing although a little story-bookish and over-dramatic, but isn't that just like Richard Castle? The fact that the priest was killed in a bondage club added some off-color moments throughout the book that I could have done without, but all-in-all, a fun, light, read.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2832363554383141310.post-9094478987940252022011-10-03T20:43:00.000-04:002011-10-03T20:43:48.586-04:00Book Review: Weddings and Wasabi by Camy Tang<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Book Description</b></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">by F.I.R.S.T. Wild Card Tour</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A Wild Card post includes a brief bio of the author and a full chapter from each book toured. The reason it is called a FIRST Wild Card Tour is that you never know if the book will be fiction, non~fiction, for young, or for old...or for somewhere in between! <strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;">Enjoy your free peek into the book!</span></strong></span><br />
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<div align="center"><strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today's Wild Card author is:</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.camytang.com/">Camy Tang</a></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;">and the book:</span></span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1414120591">Weddings and Wasabi</a></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">WinePress Publishing (June 7, 2011)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">***Special thanks to Camy Tang for sending me a review copy.***</span></div><br />
<div align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>About The Author:</b></span></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJAmk8kY22eMfgbv2Usc8A5_ti49ecgvUxp8Sn8-eTWhOlwvt4Pf8zsf-0pkLH7dNeUG9bvt4u1mieDgUjCK3JsjdhAuh71yGTonjl6h3VsIUbr8LSqFWhpaWgJKYSKds1qxA9JKhtZhM/s1600/camywebcopy.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658242850742232114" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJAmk8kY22eMfgbv2Usc8A5_ti49ecgvUxp8Sn8-eTWhOlwvt4Pf8zsf-0pkLH7dNeUG9bvt4u1mieDgUjCK3JsjdhAuh71yGTonjl6h3VsIUbr8LSqFWhpaWgJKYSKds1qxA9JKhtZhM/s200/camywebcopy.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 164px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Camy Tang grew up in Hawaii and now lives in San Jose, California, with her engineer husband and rambunctious mutt, Snickers. She graduated from Stanford University and was a biologist researcher for 9 years, but now she writes full-time. She is a staff worker for her church youth group and leads one of the Sunday worship teams. On her blog, she ponders knitting, spinning wool, dogs, running, the Never Ending Diet, and other frivolous things. Visit her website at <a href="http://www.camytang.com/">http://www.camytang.com/</a> to read short stories and subscribe to her quarterly newsletter.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Visit the author's <a href="http://www.camytang.com/">website</a>.</span><br />
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<div align="left"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Short Book Description:</b></span></div><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8bKz7ElnOVbF-hy1ndy2DKDlmEQEPBioa31Infd0UyKzhomS5diCCRcye0pfX8bqct9YIhjJ2aThEwjS930fApln0Jw-SXWrKOwk2NUxDOoc1r0bXW88m2FnJa_F8VcoUGzxPYOHR_o/s1600/WW_web.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658242845122201970" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8bKz7ElnOVbF-hy1ndy2DKDlmEQEPBioa31Infd0UyKzhomS5diCCRcye0pfX8bqct9YIhjJ2aThEwjS930fApln0Jw-SXWrKOwk2NUxDOoc1r0bXW88m2FnJa_F8VcoUGzxPYOHR_o/s200/WW_web.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 200px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 134px;" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">After finally graduating with a culinary degree, Jennifer Lim is pressured by her family to work for her control-freak aunty’s restaurant. But after a family blowout, Jenn is determined to no longer be a doormat and instead starts her own catering company. Her search for a wine merchant brings John into her life—a tall, dark, handsome biker, in form-fitting black leather, and Hispanic to boot. It would be wonderfully wild to snag a man like that!</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Shy engineer Edward tentatively tries out his birthday present from his winery-owner uncle—a Harley Davidson complete with the trimmings. Jennifer seems attracted to the rough, aggressive image, but it isn’t his real self. Is she latching onto him just to spite her horrified family? And if this spark between them is real, will showing her the true guy underneath put it out?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And what’s with the goat in the backyard?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Product Details:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">List Price: $13.99</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Paperback: 124 pages</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Publisher: WinePress Publishing (June 7, 2011)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Language: English</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">ISBN-10: 1414120591</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">ISBN-13: 978-1414120591</span><br />
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<strong><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: large;">My Thoughts:</span></span></strong><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Weddings and Wasabi is the first book by Camy Tang I have had the opportunity to read. The title really hooked me implying it may have something to do with sushi which is my favorite. I like that the books these days have really neat titles and book covers. Very modern and stylish, even the historical fiction books. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I personally had a difficult time reading this book as I started to get in to it. There are a couple reasons why. My first impression of the heroine was that she was a little bitter about life and bitter towards a past relationship. I felt the author was trying to make that aspect of the story line humorous, but to me, it sort of made the heroine, Jenn, a little annoying.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Another thing I noticed was what I like to call the Cheese Factor of a romance-type book. I would rate the Cheese Factor a little high on this book. A little too cheesy and less realistic. I also think the number of relatives throughout the book was a bit confusing to try and keep track of them all. </span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In theory, I think it is a good story line and I am only one person's opinion. I have heard that Camy Tang has some good books, I will definitely read one of those in the future.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>And Now For The First Chapter...</b></span><br />
<div style="height: 307px; overflow: auto;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The goat in the backyard had just eaten tonight’s dinner.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jennifer Lim stood on her mother’s minuscule back porch and glared at the small brown and white creature polishing off her basil. She would have run shouting at it to leave off her herb garden, except it had already decimated the oregano, mint, rosemary, thyme, cilantro, and her precious basil, which had been slated for tonight’s pesto.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Besides, if it bit her, she was peeved enough to bite back.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Mom!” She stomped back into the house. Thank goodness the pots of her special Malaysian basil were sectioned off in the large garden on the side of the house, protected by a wooden-framed wire gate. Jenn was growing it so that she could make her cousin Trish’s favorite chicken dish for her wedding, which Jenn was catering for her. But everything in her backyard garden was gone. The animal was welcome to the only thing left, the ragged juniper bushes. Were juniper bushes poison? If so, the animal was welcome to them.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Mom!” Her voice had reached banshee range. “There is a goat—”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“You don’t need to yell.” Mom entered the kitchen, her lipstick bright red from a fresh application and her leather handbag over her arm, obviously ready to leave the house on some errand.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Since when do we own a goat?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Since your cousin Larry brought him over.” She fished through her leather purse. “His name is Pookie.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jenn choked on her demand for an explanation, momentarily distracted. “He has a name?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“He’s a living being. Of course he has a name.” Her mother fluttered eyelashes overloaded with mascara.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Don’t give me that. You used to love to gross me out with stories of Great-Uncle Hao Chin eating goats back in China.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mom sniffed and found the refrigerator fascinating. “That’s your father’s side.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jenn swayed as the floor tilted. You are now entering … the Twilight Zone. Her parent had evoked that feeling quite often in the past few weeks. “Where did Larry get a goat and why do we have it now?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“They were desperate.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Actually, Jenn could have answered her own question. That goat was in their backyard right now because everyone knew that her mom couldn’t say no to a termite who knocked on the door and asked if it could spend the night.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And outside of physically dropping the goat off at someone’s house—and she didn’t have an animal trailer, so that was out of the question—Jenn wouldn’t be able to get anyone else in the family to agree to take the animal, now that it was here. That meant leaving a goat in a niece’s backyard because no one else wanted to go through the hassle of doing anything about it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mom said, “You wouldn’t have me turn away family, would you?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Uncle Percy knows, too?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“No, not Percy.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Aunty Glenda?” No way. Even if Larry were thirty-one instead of twenty-one, Aunty would still dictate to her son the color underwear he wore that day—how much more his choice of pet?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“No.” Mom blinked as rapidly as she could with mascara making her short, stiff lashes stick together, almost gluing her eyes shut.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The tiger in Jenn’s ribcage growled. “Mother.” Her fist smacked onto her hip.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Oh, all right.” Mom rolled her eyes as if she were still a teenager. “It belongs to Larry’s dormmate’s older brother, but really, he’s the nicest young man.” Burgundy lips pulled into what wanted to be a smile, but instead looked hideously desperate.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jenn tried to count to ten but only got to two. “I know Larry’s a nice young man. If an abundance of immaturity counts as ‘nice’ points.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Jenn, really, you’re so intolerant. Just because you’re smart and went to Stanford for grad school …”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The name of her school—and the one dominant memory it brought up—made her neck jerk in a spasm. It had only been for two years, but that was enough. Desperately lonely after spending her undergrad years living with her cousins, Jenn had only formed a few friendships among the other grad students, none of them close. There was only one she’d never forget, although she vowed she would every morning when she got up and saw the scar in the mirror.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Why. Do we have. A goat.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“It’s only for a few days—”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“We don’t know a thing about how to take care of—”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“They’re easy—”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Besides which, this is Cupertino. I’m sure there are city laws—”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“It’ll be gone before anyone notices—”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Oh, ho, you’re right about that.” Jenn strode toward the phone on the wall. “I’m calling the Humane Society. They’ll take it.” Although they wouldn’t provide a trailer to transport it. How was she going to take the goat anywhere, much less to an animal shelter?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mom plopped onto a stool and sighed. “That boy was so cute. His name was Brad.”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">There went her neck spasming again. But Brad was a common name. She grabbed the phone.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Such a nice Chinese boy. Related to the Yip family—you know, the ones in Mountain View?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The phone slipped from her hand and bungee-jumped toward the floor, saved only by the curly cord. She bent to snatch it up, but dizziness shrouded her vision and she had to take a few breaths before straightening up.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Oh, and he went to Stanford. You two have something in common.” Mom beamed.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">No. He wouldn’t.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Yes, he would.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">“Brad Yip?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Mom’s eyes lighted up. “Do you know him?”</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Sure, she knew him. Knew the next time he came for his goat she’d ram her chef’s knife, Michael Meyers style, right between his eyes.</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0