Celebrating Irish Roots

Contrary to what some people believe, I'm not Italian. :) Yes, my last name is. And so are my husband and children, but I'm 3/4 Irish.

I'm currently writing a novel set in 1913 that includes an Irish family living in Troy, NY (where I was born). In a beautiful moment of serendipity, a relative sent me some genealogy info, and I connected online with a 3rd cousin (from Ireland!) who's shared some lovely photographs.

This is a photo of my grandmother (1879 - 1954) and her family. It was probably taken in Troy. She's standing top left. I don't know the date of the picture, but the little girl in the center, my great Aunt Mamie (who I knew) was born in 1888. So my guess is that the portrait was taken before the turn of the last century.

The young fellow on the bottom of the picture, my great uncle Jeremiah looks a bit like Eddie Munster, don't you think?

Here are some close-ups:

My great grandmother, Mary Gleeson Minehan (1849 - 1923), is actually a year younger than her husband, but she looks awfully old, poor dear.

I guess having eight children in those days really aged you.

This is Edmond Minehan, (1848-1914) my great-grandfather.

He was a skilled laborer, a puddler, for the Burden Iron Company. He separated the pig iron from the good iron. They say if you weren't a good puddler, you weren't a puddler for long because the job would kill you. It was hot, dangerous work. The factory closed for the summer months, and he took the family to Saratoga Springs where he worked at the Saratoga Hotel and gambled at the racetrack. :) My mother said she'd heard he made more money in those three summer months than he did for the nine months he worked in the iron factory.

The older gentleman is my great-great-grandfather, William Gleeson.

He looks a little stern and perhaps a bit sour in the photo. I hope he was a happier chap in person.

My great-grandfather also took his family back to Ireland (where he and his wife were born) for several vacations. Here's a photo of my grandmother, a few of her sisters, and some Irish relatives in Ireland in 1907.

In this picture my grandmother is standing, second from left. My Aunt Mamie, the little girl from the top photo, is standing on the end on the right.

If you look to the left side of the photo you'll see a horse's backside. My father used to point to this picture and say, "That's the horse's ass I always knew was in your mother's family."

In my current novel I'm using names of my relatives and putting my characters in their homes in South Troy. Even though they lived in the city, my great grandparents maintained a small farm located on First Street that backed to the Hudson River. On the block just north of the farm, the houses were side-by-side row homes on little city lots. When my mother was still a child, the city bought the property to build a public school.

Go n-eírí an bóthar leat.

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind always be at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face,

and rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

The Christian Mamas Guide to Having a Baby

I had the opportunity to review The Christian Mamas Guide to Having a Baby, a fun book for parents-to-be. I wish this book was around when I was pregnant (years ago!), but at least I can buy it for the young moms in my life. It not only has great information, it is a wonderful source of encouragement and inspiration. If you're expecting or someone you care about is, order this book, now! It's an easy, fun read for parents planning for their new bundle of joy.

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour 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! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Erin MacPherson

and the book:

The Christian Mama’s Guide to Having a Baby

GuidepostsBooks (March 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Sharon Farnell, Publicity Manager, Planned Television Arts for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Erin MacPherson lives with her husband and their two adorable children in Austin, Texas. She was an editor and staff writer for the Nickelodean ParentsConnect website for years, where she spent hours each week researching pregnancy, talking to obstetricians and midwives, and giving out tips and advice to new and pregnant mamas.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

Filled with helpful tips, amusing anecdotes, and encouraging advice, here's one mama's take on everything pregnancy -- from stretch marks to weight gain to figuring out how to rely on our creator through all of the uncertainty and joy of the next nine months. Pregnant women may discover that while they are thrilled about the baby, pregnancy can be another thing entirely. Instead of glowing they're glistening. There's morning sickness. And suddenly a favorite pair of jeans no longer fits. Erin MacPherson has created a comprehensive guide that's packed with information that every newly pregnant mama needs including exercising while pregnant, a detailed guide to each trimester (including sleep, doctor check-ups, pregnancy sex), what to buy and not buy for your baby, how to use your Bible as your pregnancy resource, and how to use this time of waiting to really draw closer to God through prayer. Filled with helpful tips (how do you quell that not-just-in-the-morning sickness?), humorous accounts (doesn't everyone crave peanut-butter-and-olive sandwiches?), and supportive spiritual advice (what does a godly pregnancy attitude actually look like anyway?). The Christian Mama's Guide to Having a Baby has the advice a mama-to-be wants to hear. Erin MacPherson assures, 'at the end of nine months, you really will be glowing.'


Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 288 pages
Publisher: GuidepostsBooks (March 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0824948580
ISBN-13: 978-0824948580

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

Introduction

You're Havin' a Baby!


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.

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.

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 that 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 in less than forty weeks. And that's why I wrote this book.

I remember during 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, I did what any somewhat sane mother-of-two would do. I wrote my own Christian pregnancy guide.

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 simply that 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 education in high school). So, if you're looking for medical rhetoric and big-word-laden advice for a magical medical breakthrough that will quell your ever-present nausea and keep your weight gain to a minimum, this probably isn't the place.

But, 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 nonstop for the past six years, and as I dealt with morning sickness and weight gain and decorating a nursery, I gleaned some pregnancy knowledge.

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 and 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 another pregnancy (or two)), God willing. In an instant.

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 e-mailing me and telling me I was right.

I won't say I told you so.





Chapter 1

Getting Into the Pregnancy Groove

Being Pregnant and Loving It


You figured out how to actually get pregnant (go you!), now you have to figure out how to be pregnant. And 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.

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.)

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 preggo-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.

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:

How to Get into the Pregnancy Groove


1. Get Yourself Pumped Up:

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.

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 ogled 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 peekaboo, go for it.

The point is, the more time you spend around babies (and other mothers), the more excited you will be about your own baby. And believe 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.


2. Turn that Mommy Guilt into Glee (Or at Least Contentment):

That resentment that 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.

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?

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 that 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

3. Pray for Your Baby

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!

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.

4. Think About the Pros of Pregnancy

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?

Plus, when you're pregnant, everyone (and I mean everyone) gushes over you. I remember walking into church just as I was 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 aahed. Part of me hated all of the fuss—uh, who am I kidding? I loved the attention! Who wouldn't?

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.

The thing is that 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?

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.


Things You Can Do While Pregnant (That You Would Never Get Away With Otherwise)

1. Wear flip-flops or clogs every day. Even to church.
2. Leave the toilet unscrubbed for the nine entire months (might as well make it an even ten).
3. Order dessert (and eat it all by yourself).
4. Wear sweats to the grocery store, to work and to dinner at your mother-in-law’s.
5. Skip your morning shower. Three days in a row.
6. Add half and half to your decaf (or half-caf).
7. Send your hubby to Sonic for a foot-long hot dog at eleven o’clock at night.
8. Eat a foot-long hot dog at eleven and wash it down with Chunky Monkey.
9. Go to bed at seven on a Friday night.
10. Spend your entire Saturday camped out on the couch watching A Baby Story.
11. Borrow your husband's T-shirts.
12. Chat about baby names on a baby names message board.
13. Go to BabiesRUs 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.)


Pregnancy Rocks (Even Though it Sometimes Stinks)

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.

The truth is, 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.

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 prepregnancy jeans? Let's talk first trimesters.

Inspired

I'm inspired by pretty words. Sometimes when I'm having a hard time getting words out of my mind and into my document, I take the time to read well-written fiction.

This past week I was lost in the worlds of 1940s New Orleans and 1969 Chicago and Asia created by Patti Lacy. Her writing is so beautiful and evocative. It stirred my soul and fired my imagination.

Let me share some snippets from Patti Lacy's The Rhythm of Secrets:

"Intuition set a wildfire ablaze in a heart accustomed, with his absence, to a sputtering light." (Isn't that lovely?!)

And then this heart stopper: "She'd do anything for this husband she was about to betray. Except stop the betrayal."

Here's the book description:

Sheila Franklin has lived three separate lives. Now a conservative pastor's wife in Chicago, she is skilled at hiding secrets--a talent birthed during childhood romps through the music-filled streets of New Orleans. But when the son she bore at the age of eighteen comes back looking for answers and desperate for help, her greatest secret--and greatest regret--is revealed.

Thanks, Patti. I loved your book.

I got lost in another good book

I recently read Kristin Billerbeck's new release A Billion Reasons Why, and I'm so happy to recommend it to my friends. I loved the characters, loved that the book's setting was a character, and loved the thread of hope that Kristin portrayed in the lives of the characters. A Billion Reasons Why is one of those books that has you rooting for the character as if she were your best friend. One word of warning: once you start this book, don't plan on doing much else until it's finished. You'll want to read this one straight through.

As usual, I was enthralled by Kristin's story, and I think you will be too. Check it out. You can even scroll down and read the first chapter.

It is time for a FIRST Wild Card Tour 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! Enjoy your free peek into the book!

You never know when I might play a wild card on you!

Today's Wild Card author is:

Kristin Billerbeck

and the book:

A Billion Reasons Why

Thomas Nelson; Original edition (February 1, 2011)

***Special thanks to Audra Jennings, Senior Media Specialist, The B&B Media Group for sending me a review copy.***

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Kristin Billerbeck was born in California to an Italian father and a strong Norwegian/German mother. Her mother tried to teach her to do things right, how to cook, clean, sew, and budget accordingly—all the things a proper girl should know in order to be a contributing member of society. Yet Billerbeck said she “failed miserably,” although her grandmother must still hold some hope since she gave her a cookie gun for her 40th birthday.

Billerbeck has authored more than 30 novels, including the Ashley Stockingdale series and the Spa Girls series. She is a leader in the Chick Lit movement, a Christy Award finalist, and a two-time winner of the American Christian Fiction Writers Book of the Year Award. She has appeared on The Today Show and has been featured in the New York Times. She lives with her family in northern California.


Visit the author's website.

SHORT BOOK DESCRIPTION:

There are a billion reasons Kate should marry her current boyfriend.

Will she trade them all to be madly in love?

Katie McKenna leads a perfect life. Or so she thinks. She has a fulfilling job, a cute apartment, and a wedding to plan with her soon-to-be fiance, Dexter.

She can think of a billion reasons why she should marry Dexter…but nowhere on that list is love.

And then in walks Luc DeForges, her bold, breathtaking ex-boyfriend. Only now he's a millionaire. And he wants her to go home to New Orleans to sing for her childhood friend's wedding. As his date.

But Katie made up her mind about Luc eight years ago, when she fled their hometown after a very public breakup. Yet there's a magnetism between them she can't deny.

Katie thought her predictable relationship with Dexter would be the bedrock of a lasting, Christian marriage. But what if there's more? What if God's desire for her is a heart full of life? And what if that's what Luc has offered all along?


Product Details:

List Price: $14.99
Paperback: 320 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson; Original edition (February 1, 2011)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1595547916
ISBN-13: 978-1595547910

AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:

A Fine Romance


Katie McKenna had dreamed of this moment at least a thousand times. Luc would walk back into her life filled with remorse. He’d be wearing jeans, a worn T-shirt, and humility. He’d be dripping with humility.


That should have been her first clue that such a scenario had no bearing on reality.


“Katie,” a voice said.


The sound sent a surge of adrenaline through her frame. She’d forgotten the power and the warmth of his baritone. A quick glance around her classroom assured her that she must be imagining things. Everything was in order: the posters of colorful curriculum, the daily schedule of activities printed on the whiteboard, and, of course, the children. All six of them were mentally disabled, most of them on the severe side of the autism spectrum, but three had added handicaps that required sturdy, head-stabilizing wheelchairs. The bulk of the chairs overwhelmed the room and blocked much of the happy yellow walls and part of the large rainbow mural the kids had helped to paint. The room, with its cluttered order, comforted her and reminded her of all she’d accomplished. There was no need to think about the past. That was a waste of time and energy.


Her eyes stopped on her aides, Carrie and Selena. The two women, so boisterous in personality, were usually animated. But at the moment they stood huddled in the corner behind Austin’s wheelchair.


Carrie, the heavyset one in the Ed Hardy T-shirt, motioned at her.


“What?” Katie pulled at her white shirt with the delicate pink flowers embroidered along the hem and surveyed the stains. “I know, I’m a mess. But did you see how wonderfully the kids did on their art projects? It was worth it. Never thought of the oil on the dough staining. Next time I’ll wear an apron.”


Selena and Carrie looked as though there was something more they wanted.


“Maddie, you’re a born artist.” Katie smiled at the little girl sitting behind a mound of colorful clay. Then to the aides: “What is the matter with you two?”



Selena, a slight Latina woman, shook her head and pointed toward the door.


Katie rotated toward the front of the classroom and caught her breath. Luc, so tall and gorgeous, completely out of place in his fine European suit and a wristwatch probably worth more than her annual salary, stood in the doorway. He wore a fedora, his trademark since college, but hardly one he needed to stand out in a crowd.


As she stared across the space between them, suddenly the classroom she took such pride in appeared shabby and soiled. When she inhaled, it reeked of sour milk and baby food. Her muddled brain searched for words.


“Luc?” She blinked several times, as if his film-star good looks might evaporate into the annals of her mind. “What are you doing here?”


“Didn’t you get my brother’s wedding invitation?” he asked coolly, as if they’d only seen each other yesterday.


“I did. I sent my regrets.”


“That’s what I’m doing here. You can’t miss Ryan’s wedding. I thought the problem might be money.”


She watched as his blue eyes came to rest on her stained shirt. Instinctively she crossed her arms in front of her.


“I came to invite you to go back with me next week, on my plane.”


“Ah.” She nodded and waited for something intelligible to come out of her mouth. “It’s not money.”


“Come home with me, Katie.” He reached out his arms, and she moved to the countertop and shuffled some papers together.


If he touches me, I don’t stand a chance. She knew Luc well enough to know if he’d made the trip to her classroom, he didn’t intend to leave without what he came for. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.” She stacked the same papers again.


“Give me one reason.”


She faced him. “I could give you a billion reasons.”


Luc’s chiseled features didn’t wear humility well. The cross-shaped scar beneath his cheekbone added to his severity. If he weren’t so dreaded handsome, he’d make a good spy in a Bond movie. His looks belied his soft Uptown New Orleans upbringing, the kind filled with celebrations and warm family events with backyard tennis and long days in the swimming pool.


He pushed through the swiveled half door that separated them and strode toward her.


“That gate is there for a reason. The classroom is for teachers and students only.”


Luc opened his hand and beckoned to her, and despite herself, she took it. Her heart pounded in her throat, and its roar was so thunderous it blocked her thoughts. He pulled her into a clutch, then pushed her away with all the grace of Astaire. “Will you dance with me?” he asked.


He began to hum a Cole Porter tune clumsily in her ear, and instinctively she followed his lead until everything around them disappeared and they were alone in their personal ballroom. For a moment she dropped her head back and giggled from her stomach; a laugh so genuine and pure, it seemed completely foreign—as if it came from a place within that was no longer a part of her. Then the dance halted suddenly, and his cheek was against hers. She took in the roughness of his face, and the thought flitted through her mind that she could die a happy woman in those arms.


The sound of applause woke her from her reverie.


“You two are amazing!” Carrie said.


The children all murmured their approval, some with screams of delight and others with loud banging.

Luc’s hand clutched her own in the small space between them, and she laughed again.


“Not me,” Luc said. “I have the grace of a bull. It’s Katie. She’s like Ginger Rogers. She makes anybody she dances with look good.” He appealed to the two aides. “Which is why I’m here. She must go to my brother’s wedding with me.”


“I didn’t even know you danced, Katie,” Selena said. “Why don’t you ever come dancing with us on Friday nights?”


“What? Katie dances like a dream. She and my brother were partners onstage in college. They were like a mist, the way they moved together. It’s like her feet don’t touch the ground.”


“That was a long time ago.” She pulled away from him and showed him her shirt. “I’m a mess. I hope I didn’t ruin your suit.”


“It would be worth it,” Luc growled.


“Katie, where’d you learn to dance like that?” Carrie asked.


“Too many old movies, I suppose.” She shrugged.


“You could be on Dancing with the Stars with moves like that.”


“Except I’m not a star or a dancer, but other than that, I guess—” She giggled again. It kept bubbling out of her, and for one blissful moment she remembered what it felt like to be the old Katie McKenna. Not the current version, staid schoolmarm and church soloist in Northern California, but the Katie people in New Orleans knew, the one who danced and sang.


Luc interrupted her thoughts. “She’s being modest. She learned those moves from Ginger and Fred themselves, just by watching them over and over again. This was before YouTube, so she was dedicated.”


Katie shrugged. “I was a weird kid. Only child, you know?” But inside she swelled with pride that Luc remembered her devotion to a craft so woefully out-of-date and useless. “Anyway, I don’t have much use for swing dancing or forties torch songs now. Luc, meet Carrie and Selena. Carrie and Selena, Luc.”


“I don’t have any ‘use’ for salsa dancing,” Selena said. “I do it because it’s part of who I am.”


“Tell her she has to come with me, ladies. My brother is having a 1940s-themed wedding in New Orleans. He’d be crushed if Katie didn’t come, and I’ll look like a hopeless clod without her to dance with.”


Katie watched the two aides. She saw the way Luc’s powerful presence intoxicated them. Were they really naive enough to believe that Luc DeForges could ever appear like a clod, in any circumstance or setting? Luc, with his skilled charm and roguish good looks, made one believe whatever he wanted one to believe. The two women were putty in his hands.


“Katie, you have to go to this wedding!” Selena stepped toward her. “I can’t believe you can dance like that and never told us. You’d let this opportunity slip by? For what?” She looked around the room and frowned. “This place?”


The cacophony of pounding and low groans rose audibly, as if in agreement.


“This may be just a classroom to you, but to me, it’s the hope and future of these kids. I used to dance. I used to sing. It paid my way through college. Now I’m a teacher.”


“You can’t be a teacher and a dancer?” Selena pressed. “It’s like walking and chewing gum. You can do both. The question is, why don’t you?”


“Maybe I should bring more music and dancing into the classroom. Look how the kids are joining in the noise of our voices, not bothered by it. I have to think about ways we could make the most of this.”


But she hadn’t succeeded in changing the subject; everyone’s attention stayed focused on her.


“You should dance for the kids, Katie. You possess all the grace of an artist’s muse. Who knows how you might encourage them?”


Katie laughed. “That’s laying it on a bit thick, Luc, even for you. I do believe if there was a snake in that basket over there, it would be rising to the charmer’s voice at this very minute.”


Luc’s very presence brought her into another time. Maybe it was the fedora or the classic cut of his suit, but it ran deeper than how he looked. He possessed a sense of virility and take-no-prisoners attitude that couldn’t be further from his blue-blood upbringing. He made her, in a word, feel safe . . . but there was nothing safe about Luc and there never had been. She straightened and walked over to her open folder to check her schedule for the day.


Tapping a pencil on the binder, she focused on getting the day back on track. The students were involved in free playtime at the moment. While they were all situated in a circle, they played individually, their own favorite tasks in front of them.


“Carrie, would you get Austin and Maddie ready for lunch?”


“I’ll do it,” Selena said. “And, Katie . . . you really should go to the wedding.”


“I can’t go to the wedding because it’s right in the middle of summer school.”


“You could get a substitute,” Carrie said. “What would you be gone for, a week at most? Jenna could probably fill in. She took the summer off this year.”


“Thanks for the suggestions, ladies,” Katie said through clenched teeth. “But I’ve already told the groom I can’t attend the wedding for professional reasons.”


The women laughed. “I’m sorry, what reasons?” Carrie asked, raising a bedpan to imply that anyone could do Katie’s job.


It was no use. The two women were thoroughly under Luc’s spell, and who could blame them?


“Maybe we should talk privately,” Luc said. He clasped her wrist and led her to the glass doors at the front of the classroom. “It’s beautiful out here. The way you’re nestled in the hills, you’d never know there’s a city nearby.”


She nodded. “That’s Crystal Springs Reservoir on the other side of the freeway. It’s protected property, the drinking water for this entire area, so it’s stayed pristine.”


“I’m not going back to New Orleans without you,” he said.


Apparently the small talk had ended.


“My mother would have a fit if I brought one of the women I’d take to a Hollywood event to a family wedding.”


Katie felt a twinge of jealousy, then a stab of anger for her own weakness. Of course he dated beautiful women. He was a billionaire. A billionaire who looked like Luc DeForges! Granted, he was actually a multimillionaire, but it had been a long-standing joke between the two of them. Did it matter, once you made your first ten million, how much came after that? He may as well be called a gazillionaire. His finances were too foreign for her to contemplate.


“And who you date is my problem, how?”


“If my date tries to swing dance and kicks one of my mother’s friends in the teeth, I’ll be disinherited.”


“So what, would that make you the fifth richest man in the United States, instead of the fourth?”


“Katie, how many times do I have to explain to you I’m nowhere near those kinds of numbers?” He grinned. “Yet.” He touched his finger to her nose lightly. “My fate is much worse than losing status if you don’t come. My mother might set me up to ensure I have a proper date. A chorus line of Southern belles. And I guarantee you at least one will have the proverbial glass slipper and think her idea is so utterly unique, I’ll succumb to the fantasy.”


“Wow! What a terrible life you must lead.” She pulled a Keds slide from her foot and emptied sand out of her shoe. A few grains landed on Luc’s shiny black loafer. “To think, with courtship skills like that, that any woman wouldn’t be swept off her feet—it’s unfathomable.” She patted his arm. “I wish you luck, Luc. I’m sure your mother will have some very nice choices for you, so go enjoy yourself. Perk up, there’re billions

more to be made when you get back.”


“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Katie.”


e was right, but she didn’t trust herself around him. She’d taken leave of her senses too many times in that weakened state. Since moving to California, she’d made it her goal to live life logically and for the Lord. She hadn’t fallen victim to her emotions since leaving New Orleans, and she’d invested too much to give into them now.


“I’m sorry,” she said. “I only meant that I’m sure there are other nice girls willing to go home and pretend for your mother. I’ve already done that, only you forgot to tell me we were pretending. Remember?”


He flinched. “Below the belt.”


A pencil fell from behind her ear, and she stooped to pick it up, careful not to meet his glance as she rose. “I’m sorry, but I’m busy here. Maybe we could catch up another time? I’d like that and won’t be so sidetracked.” She looked across the room toward Austin, an angelic but severely autistic child in a wheelchair. He pounded against his tray. “The kids are getting hungry. It’s lunchtime.” She pointed to the schedule.


Luc scooped a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. “Where else am I going to find a gorgeous redhead who knows who Glenn Miller is?”


“Don’t, Luc. Don’t charm me. It’s beneath you. Buy one of your bubble-headed blondes a box of dye and send her to iTunes to do research. Problem solved.”


He didn’t let go. “Ryan wants you to sing at the wedding, Katie. He sent me personally to make sure you’d be there and sing ‘Someone to Watch Over Me.’ I’m not a man who quits because something’s difficult.”


“Anyone worth her salt on Bourbon Street can sing that. Excuse me—”


“Katie-bug.”


“Luc, I asked you kindly. Don’t. I’m not one of your sophisticated girls who knows how to play games. I’m not going to the wedding. That part of my life is over.”


“That part of your life? What about that part of you? Where is she?”


She ignored his question. “I cannot be the only woman you know capable of being your date. You’re not familiar with anyone else who isn’t an actress-slash-waitress?” She cupped his hand in her own and allowed herself to experience the surge of energy. “I have to go.” She dropped his hands and pushed back through the half door. “I’m sure you have a meeting to get to. Am I right?”


“It’s true,” he admitted. “I had business in San Francisco today, a merger. We bought a small chain of health food stores to expand the brand. But I was planning the trip to see you anyway and ask you personally.”


“Uh-huh.”


“We’ll be doing specialty outlets in smaller locations where real estate prices are too high for a full grocery outlet. Having the natural concept already in these locations makes my job that much easier.”



“To take over the free world with organics, you mean?”


That made him smile, and she warmed at the sparkle in his eye. When Luc was in his element, there was nothing like it. His excitement was contagious and spread like a classroom virus, infecting those around him with a false sense of security. She inhaled deeply and reminded herself that the man sold inspiration by the pound. His power over her was universal. It did not make her special.


“Name your price,” he said. “I’m here to end this rift between us, whatever it is, and I’ll do the time. Tell me what it is you want.”


“There is no price, Luc. I don’t want anything from you. I’m not going to Ryan’s wedding. My life is here.”


“Day and night . . . night and day,” he crooned and then his voice was beside her ear. “One last swing dance at my brother’s wedding. One last song and I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”


She crossed the room to the sink against the far wall, but she felt him follow. She hated how he could make every nerve in her body come to life, while he seemingly felt nothing in return. She closed her eyes and searched for inner strength. He didn’t want me. Not in a way that mattered. He wanted her when it suited him to have her at his side.


“Even if I were able to get the time off work, Luc, it wouldn’t be right to go to your brother’s wedding as your date. I’m about to get engaged.”


“Engaged?” He stepped away.


She squeezed hand sanitizer onto her hands and rubbed thoroughly.


“I’ll give a call to your fiancé and let him know the benefits.” He pulled a small leather pad of paper from his coat pocket. “I’ll arrange everything. You get a free trip home, I get a Christian date my mother is proud to know, and then your life goes back to normal. Everyone’s happy.” He took off his fedora as though to plead his case in true gentlemanly fashion. “My mother is still very proud to have led you from

your . . .” He choked back a word. “From your previous life and to Jesus.”


The announcement of her engagement seemed to have had little effect on Luc, and Katie felt as if her heart shattered all over again. “My previous life was you. She was proud to lead me away from her son’s life.” She leaned on the countertop, trying to remember why she’d come to the kitchen area.


“You know what I meant.”


“I wasn’t exactly a streetwalker, Luc. I was a late-night bar singer in the Central District, and the only one who ever led my reputation into question was you. So I’m failing to see the mutual benefit here. Your mother. Your date. And I get a free trip to a place I worked my tail off to get out of.”


She struggled with a giant jar of applesauce, which Luc took from her and opened easily. He passed the jar back to her and let his fingers brush hers.


“My mother would be out of her head to see you. And the entire town could see what they lost when they let their prettiest belle go. Come help me remind them. Don’t you want to show them that you’re thriving? That you didn’t curl up and die after that awful night?”


“I really don’t need to prove anything, Luc.” She pulled her apron, with its child-size handprints in primary colors, over her head. “I’m not your fallback, and I really don’t care if people continue to see me that way. They don’t know me.”


“Which you? The one who lives a colorless existence and calls it holy? Or the one who danced on air and inspired an entire theater troupe to rediscover swing and raise money for a new stage?” Luc bent down, took her out at the knees, and hoisted her up over his shoulder.


“What are you doing? Do you think you’re Tarzan? Put me down.” She pounded on his back, and she could hear the chaos he’d created in the classroom. “These kids need structure. What do you think you’re doing? I demand you put me down!”

A few good books

I've been happy to report that I've had a great stretch of reading good books this winter.

In the past few weeks, I've read three books that I'm delighted to endorse.

The Master's Wall by Sandi Rog is a wonderful debut novel set in 1st Century Rome. The story follows the life of a boy who was orphaned when his Christian parents were killed by the state. The Master's wall is ver well written and transports the reader to a time a place with great cultural references. One reason why I loved this book is because it shows how difficulties we experience can be redeemed. It a wonderful message woven into a lovely story.

Havah by Tosca Lee is an interesting look at the story of Eve. Tosca has a beautiful literary style of writing that paints lovely word pictures. The story is told in a first person narrative. I loved it! You were introduced to

paradise and then banished into the world we now know. If you should decide to read it, keep an eye out for page 123, it made me laugh out loud. Some universal truths are, well, universal.

Almost Forever by Deborah Raney. Of course, I recommend ANY book by Deb. She's a wonderful writer who creates wonderful stories, and she is one of those authors who consistently

delivers a satisfying read. Here's the intriguing description you'll find online: Unearthing a lost memory may cause her to lose everything she holds dear... but could it also set her free?

Did you notice?

A few weeks ago I met a friend for lunch. During our visit I made a comment on some of the café’s artwork. She mentioned that I always seem to notice details. She’s right.

I’m always on the lookout for interesting snippets to incorporate into my fiction. As an author I’m always reading, and I love to take note of an interesting detail that pulls me further into the fictional dream. The more deeply I’m drawn into the story, the more meaningful the book becomes and the more it lingers with me after I’ve read the last page.

Several years ago I went to an Expressionist exhibit at an art museum. The curator mentioned that long before multimedia, people would go to an art show then discuss the picture much in the same way that people discuss a new movie release. That thought intrigued me. To do that, the critics must have REALLY looked hard at the image.

Over the weekend I visited the Denver Art Museum. I strolled through the galleries and wondered what the artists were trying to say through the paintings. Why was the scene outdoors instead of inside? Why was the subject glancing to the right? What significance is there in the other objects in the painting?

When you consider the art, you can find stories inside. The experience helped to jumpstart my creativity. I wondered about so much of what I noticed. One family portrait had the family gathered around the end of the table, but if you look carefully, there was a figure at the other end of the table, shaded so much that you might have missed her. Why did the painter depict her like that? Could she have been a beloved child, now deceased? Another portrait showed a young girl holding a doll dressed in black, one that looked like a little adult. I read some information about that painting, and it said that perhaps the child’s mother was no longer living.

There are so many stories swirling around us, both written with words and crafted with a painter’s brush. What make the stories intriguing are the details.

It’s up to us to notice the details. And it’s all in the details, don’t you think?

BTW, the above portrait is called Lady in Pink, artist unknown. What could her story be?

One-day local writing conference!

If you're within driving distance from Colorado Springs, or if you want to fly in, there's a great one-day conference coming up in three weeks.

The Peak Writing Conference will be held Saturday, February 5th from 8:00am - 4:00pm.

The keynote speaker is Karen Ball, Executive Fiction Editor for B&H Publishing Group. She'll be teaching three sessions on taming fiction dragons: You may not know it, but they’re there. Five fiction dragons hiding in your writing, just waiting to breathe fire and knock your readers right out of the story. But you can tame them! Bring your current WIP, and get ready to get down nd dirty. In these interactive sessions, we’ll take on the dragons together, and by the time we’re done, they won’t just be tame—they’ll be gone!

There will also be an author/editor panel and a Q&A.

The conference will be held at Holy Trinity Anglican Church, 13990 Gleneagle Drive in Colorado Springs.

I'll be there, will you?

Dear Writer's Block . . .

If you’re a writer, do you carry around a notepad? You should.

I keep a small notebook handy to jot down ideas, bits of overheard conversations, interesting names, intriguing billboard messages, names of streets or towns, and anything that catches my fancy or sparks my imagination. I’ve been able to create scenes from snippets I’ve written down in my little 4.5 x 3.25 inch composition book.

I was looking through my little notebook today and came across a letter I’d written to the dreaded writer’s block. It made me chuckle, and I decided to share it with you.

Dear Writer’s Block,

Thank you for stopping by today. I appreciate your urge to tell me that I don’t have the talent to write another book. Thanks for reminding me of that. (Insert sarcastic snicker here.)

Now that we’re having this conversation, I’ve decided that we should call off our relationship. You are too high maintenance for my temperament. You are also a liar. My writing therapist says you’ve been filling my head with matters that are neither true nor important.

You are a manipulator, Writer’s Block. Despite your best efforts, I will continue to write because of my desire to communicate, to assure people that they’re not the only one who feels “that way,” and to discover more about the human spirit and the power of love. I also believe that by developing my craft, I will move forward in my calling, despite your lack of support.

And so, Writer's Block, this is it. I will no longer allow you to sidetrack my writing efforts. Goodbye, adios, auf wiedersehen, ciao, viso gero, sayonara -- and if you don't understand my sentiment in any of those languages, then let me give it to you simply: don't let the door hit you where the good Lord split you!

Very truly your Ex-Friend,

Megan

The Kindness of Strangers

If at some point in life you haven’t relied on the kindness of strangers or haven’t extended a kindness to a stranger, then face it—you’re not really living. Instead you must be moving through your days wrapped so tightly in your own self-absorbed world that you either haven’t noticed the kindnesses or you don’t bother to pay attention those sharing earth with you.

Several years ago I endured a sad experience that left me with the stunning knowledge that no one needs to show kindness to me. And as a result, I make it a point to always be thankful for even small acts of consideration. I know that someone else’s time or effort on my behalf is a gift.

Last month I was carrying two boxes, one stacked on the other, and was walking into a building. In front of the door were three or four concrete cylinders. You know, those structures to prevent someone from driving through double doors. Anyway, the wind was blowing, and my hair had webbed across my face. I decided to lean the boxes into the cylinder to free a hand so I could tuck my hair behind my ear.

While walking toward the cylinder, a woman’s voice behind me yelled out, “Oh, no. To your right. Move right!” As I got closer to my destination her shouts grew louder and more frantic, “Careful, no! Uh, uh—you’re going to crash!”

I made my desired connection, pushed my hip into the boxes, swiped my hair off my face, and tucked it behind my ear. As I did, footsteps quickened across the pavement, and the woman stopped next to me, asking, “Are you okay?”

When I explained I only wanted to clear my hair from my eyes, we both got a good laugh out of the situation. (I wonder what she though of me as I made a beeline straight to the barrier.) She shook her head and started off on her own errand, but I caught up to her and thanked her for her kindness and attention.

Lately I’ve been thinking about how we interact with the world around us. I’m trying to be more purposeful in acknowledging the little things and rejoicing in the kindness I receive or extend. Sometimes paying it forward is noticing the small things and being of assistance to one another in even trivial matters.

Joy isn’t necessarily found in the big events of life, but rather in the little, day-to-day moments. Don't you agree?

Wise Words to Close Out 2010

Do you keep a collection of quotes? I do. I keep lists and files of stuff that catch my fancy, and surprise, surprise—many of them are pretty phrases or wise words.

This is my last post of 2010, so I’m leaving you with a few of my favorite quotes:

Enjoy when you can, and endure when you must. ~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are. ~Theodore Roosevelt

Whatever we worship, short of God, is sure to be our undoing. ~Mignon McLaughlin

Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, a touch that never hurts. ~Charles Dickens

Never confuse thoughtlessness with malice. ~Robert Charles Whitehead

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. ~Philippians 4:8

What about you? Do you have a favorite quote to share?

Happy New Year!

Goodbye 2010, Hello 2011

I welcomed 2010 with a sense of optimism and enthusiasm. I had a list of goals to accomplish, and some of them have been duly crossed off.

The year 2010 unfolded with promise at the dawn of each day. Some days I lived up to the promise, some were disappointing. I tried to do my best, but I know there were days I skated by. Some moments were fabulous, others not so good.

I laughed, I questioned, I tried. Some days held proud successes, and others were total failures. I loved with abandon on some days and guarded my heart on others. I had days filled with joy, and too many days held captive by grief.

The year 2010 was another year to live and love and labor, to win and lose. As it shrinks away, I’m not stirred by sentimentality at seeing it evaporate. It will forever be one of those years that serve as a time marker for my family. Someone we loved has passed, and that’s what will stand out most in our minds when we recall 2010.

In three days the New Year will be ushered in with noisemakers and fireworks—another year with promises that will bloom and with treasures of love and friendship to savor.

I wish you a sweet and challenging 2011. I wish you a year to enjoy success, a year to delight in love and friendship.

I hope you grasp 2011 with purpose and squeeze every ounce of meaning and joy and accomplishment out of it. I hope that this time next year when 2011 is about to become another memory, you have thoroughly used it up and wrung it out with the business of living.

Have a blessed 2011, and live it well and with meaning!

Be always at war with your vices, at peace with your neighbors, and let each new year find you a better man. ~Benjamin Franklin

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas! I wish you the best of the season. Joy. Hope. Love. Peace.

Reflect on the true meaning of the day--that Jesus came to this world as a babe to save the lost and lonely. He bridged the gap between man and God so that we can have communion with the King of Kings, Lord of the Universe, and Lord of our hearts.

Savor moments with loved ones, smile at a stranger, make a Christmas wish. And please remember that Christmas must be found in your heart, not beneath a tree or wrapped in shiny paper with bows.

Have a merry, blessed Christmas!

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store? What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?
~Dr. Seuss

All the best to you and your family.

The photo is a scene from my Christmas village. In the top center of the image, Ebenezer looks through the window of Old Fezziwig's with the Ghost of Christmas Past, and Bob Cratchit walks by with Tiny Tim on his shoulder.

*If you'd like to be on my newsletter list, please send me an email. My Christmas newsletter went out yesterday, but I'll be glad to send you a copy.

Moms--need encouragement?

Last week I got a brochure in the mail about the 2011 national Hearts at Home conferences. This year's theme is Mom Revolution. Moms, if you need encouragement and refreshment, check out the Hearts at Home website and plan on attending one of the conferences.

A few months ago I had the pleasure of attending a joint event sponsored by Hearts at Home, MOPS International, and Focus on the Family. That's where I first heard of the Mom Revolution 2011 Conferences, and now registration is open.

I'm looking forward to experiencing the Western Conference this coming October in Colorado Springs. It looks like it's going to be fabulous. Pencil it into your schedule so you won't miss out! See you there.

Divine Humanity

For as long as I can remember, my mother put this reproduction antique post card on the table next to our nativity set each Christmas season. The nativity set was passed on to me a few years ago. In the box was the post card with a sentiment written by Phillips Brooks, a man known as the greatest American preacher of the 19th century and author of the Christmas hymn, O Little Town of Bethlehem.

Each year when I read the post card, a thrill of joy bubbles up from my heart. At this beautiful time of year, I wish you a similar thrill of joy. . .

“Lift up your eyes to the great meaning of the day, and dare to think of your humanity as something so divinely precious that it is worthy of being made an offering to God.

Count it as a privilege to make that offering as complete as possible, keeping nothing back; and then go out to the pleasures and duties of your life, having been truly born anew into His divinity, as he was born into our humanity on Christmas Day.”

Since I was a very young woman, I have given myself, heart and soul, to my Lord. I offer each of my days to Him. And in a most humble way, I think of my writing as something so divinely precious that it is worthy of being made an offering to God as well.

*This is a re-post of previous years, but I love it so much I trot it out every holiday season.

It’s the sentiment, stupid.

I’m one of those people who usually put some brainpower into my gift giving. After all, it’s easy to toss out some money and fulfill an obligation, but it’s more meaningful when you consider the personality of the recipient.

For me, giving gifts is more rewarding than receiving gifts. When I was a child, a neighbor family used to give “big” gifts for Christmas: easy chairs, pianos, televisions, etc. Things weren’t like that in my home, but it didn’t diminish the joy of Christmas at all.

The best part of the Christmas season is expressing affection with family, friends, and neighbors. I know it sounds corny, but for me, it’s true. I love to stop and visit, chat and admire the pretty decorations we display, and get face-to-face and heart-to-heart with those I hold dear.

On the left is a snapshot of three of my favorite Christmas gifts. :)

Christmas is worth celebrating because Jesus came into the world, and because I chose to be a Christ follower, my world is richer, deeper, and more joyful. Jesus is the reason for the season. He is the gift.

I wish you peace, love, and joy this Christmas and the time to share those sentiments with people who are special to you.

Light a Candle

Tonight is The Compassionate Friends’ 14^th Worldwide Candle Lighting. If you want to participate in remembering children who have died at any age from any cause, then light a candle for one hour at 7 p.m. local time.

Believed to be the largest mass candle lighting on the globe, the Worldwide Candle Lighting creates a virtual wave of light, hundreds of thousands of persons commemorate and honor the memory of children in a way that transcends all ethnic, cultural, religious, and political boundaries.

I’ll be thinking of my nephew Michael tonight and of all others who have lost a child.

‘Tis the season to be nasty?

Merry Christmas! Happy Chanukah!

Extending the greetings of the holidays is risky business these days. Apparently some people feel put upon to have to endure the kind thoughts and warm wishes that are shared this time of year.

Grinches and Scrooges are hijacking society. Whatever happened to live and let live? In modern America people who protest religious Christmas displays are old news. How very sad. I truly believe that people of faith are among the last people group to whom it’s okay to be biased and discriminatory. It’s PC to bash the believers. Sigh.

Another example of the Grinch in action happened this week in the UK when a rare thorn tree, a symbol of Christianity, was vandalized. The perpetrator hasn’t been caught, and in all honesty it could be an anti-monarchist, an anti-Christian, or someone who’s an atheist.

It is unfortunate that such ugly actions take place during the season of love, light, and perpetual hope. And all I can say in response is a heartfelt, “Merry Christmas!”

This or that?

Choices. Some are infinitely important, others not so much. One that comes to mind with the Christmas season is angel or star. Know what I’m talking about? It’s a question of what to use to decorate the top of your Christmas tree. We go with angel. Just saying.

My darling husband and I are beginning to dream about our next vacation choice. I’m not a cruise-kind-of girl. Give me solid earth, perhaps a spot with a nice beach and tropical weather. BTW, I also have an irrational fear of pirates. Yup, that made my travel agent laugh till she cried.

So when we go on a getaway vacation, it’s usually a tropical beach. Today I glanced at the news and saw another cruising nightmare—rough seas. Check this out.

Yes, I'm pushing for my next tropical vacation to be on a beach, under a palapa, with a good book. How about you? What’s your dream vacation?

Ho, ho, holidays!

Thanksgiving was a little more than a week ago, and now the Christmas season is ticking along.

Saturday my husband and I did ALL of our Christmas shopping, wrapping, and boxing (to ship). When we arrived home, our neighbor was putting the finishing touches on his exterior Christmas decorations—wearing a delightful Santa cap complete with mouse ears. :)

Our outdoor decorations went up Black Friday. Now the inside of our home is decked out, and I love it. We got a new, artificial tree this year. We’ve done real trees for a long time, but the convenience of a pre-lit tree spoke to me this year. It’s got so many lights that the entire living room glows in the evening. Lovely.

Besides decorating my home, I also think about decorating my heart for the Christmas season. For me, a bit of introspection is an important part of preparing for Christmas. Sometimes I listen to (and sing along with) Christmas carols, and soak in their meaning. The other night I sat in the glow of my Christmas tree and thought how Jesus is the light of the world, and more importantly, the light of my world. I also plan on spending time meditating on the prophetic names of Jesus.

What about you? Do you decorate your heart for Christmas?

Sometimes Life's a Puzzle

I’ve been quiet for too long on my blog. Sorry.

Other than an ad for a writer's seminar, I’ve not posted since August 2^nd. I’ve meant to, but tragedy struck my family in mid-August, and it seems I lost my words.

On August 14^th my 23-year-old nephew Michael was killed in a freak incident. The grief my family is experiencing is deeper than words. And because most of the language I could use to explain the situation seemed trite, I kept quiet.

Four months have passed. It seems impossible that the sun rises and other families go about their business and experience happiness while my family grieves. But life goes on, with or without our whole-hearted participation.

My niece Jen put it best when she said we lived in a happy bubble. We were aware of problems others’ had and of the tragedies that punctuate the news, but thankfully we were blissfully removed from the sorrowful side of life. But with Mike’s death our happy bubble has burst, and now there’s no way to go back to living in that happy, carefree place.

During the cooler months my dining room table usually holds a jigsaw puzzle, and each of us take our turn at putting it together. We started our first puzzle of the year, and the other night I sat down to check it out.

Someone had connected the puzzle’s perimeter, but there remained 1,300+ pieces to be sorted and put into their proper place. I stared at the void in the middle of the puzzle outline and stirred the hundreds of little pieces with my fingers.

Completing the puzzle seemed like an impossibility—sorting through the hundreds of colored pieces to detect which are the flowers, which are the cobblestone street, which are the choppy seas, and which are the purple-hued sky. But I knew if I kept at it, the puzzle would form.

The question of why Michael’s life was so short is a puzzle. But I have faith that someday the pieces will come together. I have faith that someday when we recall Mike it will be with a happy heart instead of a broken heart. I have faith that Mike’s death didn’t come as a surprise to God, and that He welcomed Michael with open arms. I have faith that with each brilliant sunrise and with each magnificent sight that is set before us, God is urging us to grasp with joy that tiny piece of the puzzle that is life and continue to trust Him.

Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 (The Message)