Cross-Pollination

Anyone who’s been to my house anytime from spring through fall knows that I love to garden. When we moved here six years ago, my flowerbed space was filled with waist-high weeds (which would be shoulder-high on most of you!) Though it was hard to envision what could be, I knew I had to start by pulling all those weeds. It was an impossible task, but since when did I, Super Garden Woman, give in to impossibility? I donned my cape (er, I mean my dust mask) and braved the dangers of hay fever to bring some order to the jungle. It took a couple of years, but by the second year I had more flowers blooming than weeds, and thus deemed the project a success.

Now, you can start a flower garden from seeds, or from having a disobedient car that won’t drive past a nursery without turning in, but the best way to increase your blooms is by cross-pollination. That doesn’t mean that you frown at your flowers and scare them into producing more, but that the pollen from one plant is transferred to a different plant. Flowers are sexual beings, and the male pollen on the anther of one flower needs to be moved to the female stigma of another flower. This is necessary in the fertilization process of flowers.

So how does this happen? It doesn't take a moonlit night or quiet, romantic music. Sometimes the force of the wind can carry the pollen from one flower to another. God also designed it so that butterflies, bees, hummingbirds, and even flies are involved in the process, though they don't even realize it. They're just busy going about their normal, daily routine of trying to get food. In their quest for their favorite nectar buried within the flower, they unintentionally rub against the pollen-producing stamen, getting pollen stuck to their body. By moving on to another flower, a portion of the pollen rubs off their body and onto the next plant's stigma. It makes for new, strong flowers.

At this time of year, with Easter on Sunday, our thoughts naturally focus on the cross. As Christians, we realize that it is central to our belief in the saving power of Christ. The cross and resurrection are what brings us salvation, freedom from the power of sin, and the assurance of spending eternity in heaven. But we're not supposed to keep that news to ourselves--we need to have cross-pollination. The truth we have must be carried to another person in order for the gospel to spread.

Just as pollen can be spread by a gentle breeze, so too can the word of God be spread by the Holy Spirit, which is often represented by wind in the Bible. But God also uses us to carry out His rooting of a new life in another person. Just like the insects He uses to fertilize different plants, we may be going about our daily routine, not aware of how God is using us. As we feed on the nectar of the Word of God, we can’t help but have it “stick” to us. As we interact with other people around us, God’s love, peace, joy, etc. also rub off on them. We are pollinating other people with the power of the cross, fertilizing the work God is doing in their lives. 

So the next time you’re out working in your garden and you see a big bumble bee cruising in and out of flowers or notice pollen floating in the air, just remember that God has called you to be a cross-pollinator too. The message of the cross of Christ is the life-giving pollen for our world.

Book Review of Exposed

Exposed, by Ashley Weis, is unlike any Christian novel you’ve ever read.



First, there’s the subject matter—pornography and the effect it has on women whose husbands become involved in viewing the material, as well as the women who “star” in the projects. The novel changes point-of-view with each chapter, alternating between a Christian wife and a young woman involved in the industry.


Then there’s the language used in the book. Don’t get me wrong—there’s no cursing or use of profanity, but there are words that are nitty-gritty and don’t usually make an appearance in a Christian novel. However, they are necessary to the plot, and are not used in a vulgar manner. It’s realistic writing.


Exposed exposes the secrets that some people try to hide for their whole life. It shows how easy it is for vulnerable young women to become enslaved to this lifestyle. The tension and deep hurt that pornography brings to a marriage is shown. This is something many women can identify with.


The chapters are short, which means one always has the time to read at least one more! The writing is tight and descriptive. Ms. Weis has tackled an extremely difficult subject with much realism, grace, and hope. I highly recommend this novel, and hope she continues to write many others.

A Series of "It Could Have Been Worse" Events

Late Sunday afternoon I looked forward to fixing dinner for some good friends who were coming over for dinner and games. No matter what we eat, and whether we play Hand and Foot, Five Crowns, or Rummikub, the four of us always have a fun time together.

I poured a bit of oil in the frying pan and set it on the stove to heat before browning the chicken breasts. Then it struck me--it was time for a new profile picture for my Facebook. So back to the other end of the house I went to find John and ask him to be my photographer. He gladly obliged and spent probably five minutes snapping away.

Suddenly, the blaring belch of the smoke alarm roared through the house. I ran down the hall toward the kitchen.

Black smoke churned in the corners of the living room. I yelled, "I've got a fire!" and heard John running behind me as I entered the kitchen. Flames danced against the blackened backdrop of the frying pan. I used a towel to pull it from the element, and the flame burned out.

We threw open every window in the house and I ran around like a mad woman, flailing a towel and trying to push the smoke out the windows. John got fans started.

We surveyed the damage to the stove.




What a stupid thing I did, right? Turning the stove on and forgetting about it a minute later is not something I want to start doing!

But let me tell you about my husband's reaction. He is such a sweet man of God. He didn't yell at me or even raise his voice, nor did he call me any names. No anger at all, at least that I could see. I, of course, was apologizing all over the place as I tried to drive the smoke out of the house. He graciously helped clean up the immediate mess. We got the blackened wall above the stove cleaned up, and evaluated the damage. John got on line and figured it would be over $200 to replace the melted knobs,bubbled display, etc.

We managed to get things aired out enough to not poison our guests when they arrived. I served a delicious dinner, in spite of the accident and adrenalin of an hour earlier.

Then I went to make coffee to accompany dessert. The first pot started burbbling part way through its cycle, and we ended up with grounds in the finished product. Threw it out. Made a second pot. It not only burbbled, but overflowed, running down the cabinets, which appropriately had a coffee stain applied at the factory!

It seemed that everything I touched fell apart that evening. No one wanted to take a chance of being on my team for games that night!

The next day I went to Walmart to pick up the $138 monthly prescription that I have to pay for out of pocket. When I unpacked the bags at home I couldn't find the medicine. John and I searched all over, including my car. I called the store, but no one had turned it in.

I was heartsick. Not only had my mistake the day before cost us around $200, but now I was adding a $138 mistake to it. I didn't know how we were going to cover these unexpected costs, as at my age, I'm much too old to make money standing on a street corner!

An hour later the pharmacy called to inform me my bag of medicine had just been turned in to them. Praise the Lord! And John checked things out on the computer and found he could get replacement parts for the stove for just under $100. What an answer to prayer it was to have God take care of situations I'd created for myself.

(Just last week I had lost my Blue Tooth and had no idea where it could be. I did the usual search of my car, purses, and jacket pockets. Between my mom and John, they decided he should check the car again, and sure enough, he found it between the seats.)

I've tried to figure out why I'm suddenly "losing it." Is it just from getting a bit older? (No, I'm too young to get older!) Not enough sleep? (No, I'm sleeping well.)

Then I realized that for the past thirteen months I've been under a lot of stress due to various family situations. I've never felt the need to cry about the pain caused by these bad decisions made by others. It's not like I'm stuffing it inside, as I talk freely to friends about what's going on. But for some reason the tears won't come. I've decided the stress is coming out in my brain cells--that I'm losing them!

So I'll try to cope by paying extra attention to the things I'm doing, knowing that my mind can easily wander. I know the Lord will take me through even this, though I certainly look forward to the time when things settle down, perhaps by the end of summer.

Meanwhile, Christina told me I should go see a therapist. "It would be a lot cheaper in the long run, Mom!"

Feed the Birds, Tuppence a Bag

Don't I wish that it only cost a tuppence for bird food as it did when Mary Poppins was around! Where is that gal when you need her?

Spring has definitely taken up residence here in Western Oregon. We always have birds that stay over the winter and don't head south to Arizona with the other wimps, but it's so nice to see the return of those that have been gone.

Only problem? They're eating me out of house and nest! I have four different types of feeders hanging along the eaves of my porch, and it's almost a full-time job to keep them filled. A beautiful pair of doves spends hours a day browsing along the patio edge, nibbling on leftovers the finches, nuthatches, chickadees, juncos, pine siskins, and others are scattering from the feeders.

Today I reached a new level. I'm not sure if it's a high or a low--you'll have to tell me. The "sock" that the finches love to eat from was spilling seed. When I checked it, I saw that some little finch, badly in need of a manicure, had torn holes in the netting of the sock. So, as the Bird Woman of Ashberry Lane I felt called upon to take my needle and thread out there and do a little sock darning. (Like I asked, high or low?!) Yes, I know the easy solution is to simply buy a new sock, but I'm not going to town until tomorrow and I didn't want the bird buffet to be lacking anything today.

Reminds me of the wonderful verse in Matthew 6:26 where Jesus says, "Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?"

Or as The Message puts it, "Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds."

Careless in the care of God--what a great way to live!

Feelin' Groovy

Several decades ago, when I was a teen, one of the cool sayings was “groovy.” If I remember right, it originated with the surfing community. But even we landlubbers used it. “Look at that cute guy over there—he’s so groovy.” (Nowadays the term would be applied to me, but only when talking about the deeply etched lines on my face!) Groovy connoted fun and youth, a carefree time of life.

I’ve recently reconnected with feelin’ groovy. I attended a recent writers conference and the key-note speaker, Robin Jones Gunn, talked of the necessity of a schedule. Since I don’t work outside the home, it’s easy for me to think I have all the time in the world. Yes, I have a writing project I need to work on, but first Iread the newspaper. Answer e-mails. Check Facebook. Get a cup of coffee. Look through a magazine. Wander over to Facebook again. Before I realize it, I’ve frittered the day away and have little to show for it. I needed to find my groove.

I contrasted two words in the dictionary—groove and rut. I tend to think of them as being very similar, and it’s true. Some of their definitions could be interchangeable. But in reading through the possible meanings of both words, I believe groove carries a more positive connotation.

Groove is defined by Webster as “a situation suited to one’s abilities or interests; top form.” (I find it interesting that groove is squeezed between groomsman and grope!) Rut, on the other hand, is “a monotonous routine.”

We talk about cars driven on a rutted road, trapped and unable to go anywhere but in the predetermined tracks. We get in a rut when it comes to cooking, making only the simple meals we always turn to, afraid of trying new recipes. Our relationships can get in a rut when we only hang out with the same people all the time, or do the same ol’ activities with our families. Let’s try something new. Jump out of the rut and into a groove!

How much better to live in a situation designed for our unique abilities and interests, where we can work in top form. Where there is a purpose to what we do, rather than just existence and going through the motions, frustrated with the emptiness of life.

Jesus (if He spoke in the words of The Message) says, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

He’s telling us to get out of the rut and into the groove—the unforced rhythms of grace. So next time you see me, feel free to ask if I’m bogged down in a rut or feelin’ groovy. (And while you’re at it, get me some of that expensive wrinkle cream!)

Oregon Sunshine

These past four days have felt and looked like spring. Birds jostle one another for the best spot on the bird feeder, kind of like when you show up at Olive Garden without being able to make a reservation. Bird songs from the surrounding fir trees are a beautiful accompaniment to the blue sky and sunshine. (Yes, I said sunshine!) Bulbs are poking their joyous heads up to take a look at their surroundings.

And people feel the difference too. Yesterday the grandkids were outside on their bikes and skateboards, with "Angel" learning how to go down our steep driveway from the upstairs house to our downstairs house on her tricycle. Then the three of them headed down to the lower meadow to play Hide-n-Seek with the cat. Christina even got away from her computer and mowed the lawn.

Enjoy these glimpses of happy faces in the Oregon sunshine. We'll savor it while we have it, as we're aware we usually get one last snowstorm in March.

Review of The Pastor's Wife, by Jennifer AlLee

This friendly, smiling face belongs to Jennifer AlLee,
author of The Pastor's Wife, which was published by
Abingdon Press this month. I first met her on line, then in person at an ACFW conference. I remember her excitement when she was able to post what her book cover would look like. And no wonder--it's a beautiful cover! I love the way the "i" in "Wife" was supplanted by a church steeple, foretelling the feelings of Maura, the pastor's wife in the story. I'm a former pastor's wife, so was immediately drawn to the title.


Jennifer, can you give us a little preview of The Pastor’s Wife?

Maura Sullivan never thought she’d see Granger, Ohio, again. But when circumstances force her to return, she must face all the disappointments she tried so hard to leave behind; a husband that ignored her, a congregation she couldn’t please, and a God who took away everything she ever loved.Nick Shepherd had put the past behind him. At least he thought he had, until the day his estranged wife walked back into town. Intending only to help Maura through her crisis of faith, Nick discovers his feeling for her never died. Now, he must face the mistakes he made and find a way to give and receive forgiveness.

As God works in both their lives, Nick and Maura start to believe they can repair their broken relationship and reunite as man and wife. But Maura has one more thing to tell Nick before they can move forward. It’s the thing that finally drove her to leave six years earlier, and the one thing that can destroy the fragile trust they’ve managed to rebuild.

What made you want to write this book?

I served as a church secretary for many years which definitely gave me a unique perspective on the lives of a pastoral family. I worked at two different churches. One was a large denominational church, the other much smaller and non-denominational. But the lives of the pastors were quite similar. There’s always another meeting to go to, or one more person that needs counseling. People feel very possessive about their pastors. This usually manifests itself in positive ways, but sometimes it crosses a line. You have to watch out for that. And the pastoral family faces challenges no one really thinks about. They basically live in a glass house and are expected to be active members of every church activity, whether they’re interested in it or not.

When I was working on the original concept for this novel, I thought about the pastors’ wives I’ve known over the years. They’ve handled themselves with amazing grace under pressure. But what if another woman couldn’t? What if a young woman thinks she knows what she’s getting into, but the reality of losing who she is and becoming a “pastor’s wife” is more than she can handle? What if some other tragedy pushes her over the edge? Would she run? And what would happen if she had to return to the scene of her heartbreak years later? All those questions eventually became The Pastor’s Wife.

You grew up in Hollywood. How did that happen?

My grandparents met on the vaudeville circuit. Grandma was a dancer and my grandfather was a concert violinist from Hungary: Duci deKerekjarto (how’s that for a last name?) Duci immigrated to make his mark in Hollywood, which is how our family ended up there. He remained friends with another Hungarian performer, a Shakespearean actor named Bela Lugosi. (Yes, the original Dracula.) Bela died before I was born, but my mom remembers sitting on his lap and calling him Uncle Bela.

My own minor brush with fame came on the day I was born. Michael Landon Jr. and I were in the same hospital nursery in neighboring bassinets. My Aunt Karen nearly passed out when she realized proud father Michael Sr. was standing at the window next to her!

Thanks for stopping by, Jennifer! The Pastor's Wife is an entertaining read, full of clean romance and restoration. It might even give you a new appreciation for what your pastor and his wife face!

Jennifer's next scheduled blog tours can be found at:

Christine Cain - http://liztolsma.blogspot.comFebruary 17 - D'Ann Mateer/Five Bazillion and One - http://fivebazillionandone.blogspot.comFebruary 19 - Miralee Ferrell - www.miraleeferrell.comFebruary 20 - Edwina Cowgill/Musings of Edwina - http://musingsofedwina.blogspot.comFebruary 22 - Pam Meyers/A Writer’s Journey - http://www.pammeyerswrites.blogspot.comFebruary 23 - Debra Vogts/Country at Heart - http://deborahvogts.blogspot.comFebruary 24 - Ane Mulligan/Novel Journey - http://www.noveljourney.blogspot.comFebruary 25 - Christa Allan - http://christaallan.com/February 26 - Peg Phifer/Sips 'n' Cups Cafe - http://www.sipsncupscafe.comFebruary 27 - Jeannie Campbell/The Character Therapist - http://charactertherapist.blogspot.com

Contact Jennifer in cyberspace:
website - http://www.jenniferallee.com/
personal blog - http://jenniferallee.blogspot.com/
group blog - http://inkwellinspirations.blogspot.com/
Facebook - http://www.facebook.com/jennifer.allee
Twitter - http://twitter.com/jallee

You can purchase The Pastor's Wife online at:
Amazon.com - http://www.amazon.com/Pastors-Wife-Jennifer-Allee/dp/1426702256/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1262215416&sr=8-2
Christianbook.com - http://www.christianbook.com/Christian/Books/easy_find?Ntk=keywords&Ntt=Jennifer+AlLee&action=Search&N=0&Ne=0&event=ESRCN&nav_search=1&cms=1&Go.x=2&Go.y=13

Review of Thin Places, by Mary DeMuth

I'd like to give a warm welcome to Mary DeMuth, author of a new book entitled Thin Places, published by Zondervan. Reading the title you might think this was a diet book, but believe me, it's a book rich in experiences, language, lessons, and forgiveness. No diet for the soul in this book!



Mary is a successful novelist and has written many articles for various publications. But I believe her true depth has come out in this brilliant rendition of her experiences from early in life.

I was excited to receive a copy to review, as I just had a feeling this memoir would be different from the few others I've read. That's not a genre that usually captivates my interest, even if written by a movie star or political figure. Could a true story by a "regular" person grip me?

The answer to that question turned out to be very simple--yes! I crawled into bed with Thin Places the night I got the book, and read 3/4 of it before forcing myself to go to sleep. I finished it the next night, and hated to turn the last page.

I am a huge believer in honesty and transparency, and that's what Ms. DeMuth brings to her book. With gut-wrenching reality she shares the life-path she has walked. It's not an easy read,or a feel-good book, due to the various subjects she deals with. But it's a healthy look at how God can use even the horrible times of life to bring about a beautiful product. Ms. DeMuth doesn't sugar-coat things, but shares what she has learned about God and herself as she's worked through the process of not being a victim, but a victor. She doesn't leave one with the false hope that her life is perfect now, but she can look back over the years and appreciate all the changes.

My life has been nothing like that of Ms. DeMuth, so one may think I wouldn't find anything meaningful in the book. Though the causes may not be the same, emotions resonate within each of us. Truths she has learned through her experiences can still be applied to different situations I'm dealing with.

As I read, I thought of the life-stories of several of my friends and of how they can benefit from reading Thin Places. I was reminded of women in my Bible study who have experienced similar things to Ms. DeMuth. I know of a ranch for abused women not far from my home. I'm going to take copies of this book to place in their library.

I heartily recommend reading this book and benefiting from the wisdom within. You won't regret it.

If You Loved Me Enough

A couple of years ago my granddaughter, Andrea, was traumatized. No, she wasn’t kidnapped. She didn’t witness a brutal event. She didn’t even get hurt—physically. But she cried, with all the angst of a drama queen, when her parents left for a concert without taking her. “I want to go! I’ll be really good! It’s not fair!”

I was in the kitchen fixing dinner for those of us who were left behind when Andrea came in and asked to use the sidewalk chalk. Her eyes were swollen, her skin blotchy.

When I went outside to call her for dinner, she asked me to come see what she’d done with the chalk. In the middle of the driveway, where they were bound to see it when they returned, Andrea had left a message for her parents. Under a large pink heart she had written: “Dear Mom and Dad, if you loved me enough you would come back and get me. Love, Andrea.”

Are there times when you say that to your Heavenly Father? “Lord, if You loved me enough You would get me a job. Sell my house. End the chaos in my life.” Is that how love is shown—by making everything perfect? That’s what we tend to think, isn’t it? If things are going well and there’s no major problem confronting us, the Lord must really love us.

But when real life happens and those unexpected events blow in like a winter storm on the Pacific coast, we run for cover. “Help,” we yell to our friends. “My teenagers have become mutants and I have no idea what to do with them.” Or “What can I do about my crumbling marriage?” we ask as we turn on the TV to take advantage of Dr. Phil’s insights. “Dear Lord, if you loved me enough You would come back and get me out of here. Love, _____(fill in the blank with your name.)

I John 3:1 says, “Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of God!” We don’t have to wonder if God loves us enough—He’s already proved it. “For God so loved the world, He gave His only begotten Son …” (John 3:16a) “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)

The next time you’re tempted to question God’s love for you, take a few moments to write down all the things He’s done for you. You’ll have writer’s cramp long before you exhaust His riches and care. He loves you more than enough!

Review of Thicker than Blood, By C.J. Darlington

If you're looking for a good read that deals with relationships between sisters, Thicker than Blood, the debut novel of C. J. Darlington is what you want to pick up. I was sent a copy to review by Tyndale House Pulishers and am happy to report I loved the book!

Christy Williams has been estranged from her younger sister, May, whom she walked away from fifteen years previously, when a terrible family situation brought a rift between the sisters. Christy's life tumbles in a downhill spirial, as she becomes involved with a sinister, controlling boyfriend. She has lost herself in the process of trying to build her life in her own way. Christy has an interesting job in a bookstore that deals in antiquarian (old) books, often bought from estate sales, but her boyfriend interferes with her life there, causing her to be charged with a crime she didn't do. (I really enjoyed learning about the antiquarian book business, what to look for to know they are first editions, etc. Especially for me as a reader and writer, the book store was a great setting.)

May has spent the last years constructing a fulfilling life on a ranch, working with her hands and building a "family" with the other people on the ranch. But she often prays for her sister Christy, wondering what has become of her and why she simply walked out of her life.

Through an interesting and realistic series of events, the two sisters reunite, though it's not with the ease of a Hallmark movie. Their world view and religious beliefs are nowhere the same, and when danger shows up at the ranch, this becomes very apparent. These are real women who have to deal with problems in their lives that are nearly as old as the books Christy deals with! It isn't easy.

Thicker than Blood covers the issues of broken relationships, forgiveness and chances to try again, and ultimate redemption. Ms. Darlington develops her characters well, so much so that there were times I wanted to shout at Christy for making such bad decisions! This book held my attention and didn't to slow down. It was one situation after another that eventually brought these sisters back in contact, with a chance to build a deep family bond.

I'm thrilled for Ms. Darlington that her book is now available. I give it four stars for an entertaining yet thought-provoking look at the possibility of broken relationships being restored.

About the Author:
C. J. began writing the story that would become Thicker than Blood (her first novel) when she was a fifteen-year-old homeschool student. She has been in the antiquarian bookselling business for over a decade, scouting for stores similar to the one described in the novel before cofounding her own online bookstore. Thicker than Blood was the winner of the 2008 Christian Writers Guild Operation First Novel.

C. J. co-founded the Christian entertainment Web site TitleTrakk.com with her sister, Tracy, and has been actively promoting Christian fiction through book reviews and author interviews. She makes her home in Pennsylvania with her family and their menagerie of dogs and cats. Visit her website www.cjdarlington.com for more info.

QUICK LINKS:

• The 1st chapter of Thicker than Blood
• The "Story Behind the Story" of Thicker than Blood
• More endorsements from Jenny B. Jones, James Scott Bell, Susan Meissner, and more!
• Our interview with C.J. at TitleTrakk.com
  
• Buy Thicker than Blood at Christianbook.com
• Buy Thicker than Blood at Amazon.com
• List of the other 85+ Thicker than Blood blog tour participants!

Inefficient Thoughts

It’s January, the time when we think of a lot of things we’d like to accomplish during this brand new year. We’re all too familiar with the usual thoughts of losing weight, exercising more, keeping our house cleaner, or always having a smile lighting up our face. Or we may go the spiritual route and decide to fast weekly, read our Bibles daily, and pray every hour. While these may all be good ideas, that’s usually as far as they go. They simply ricochet from one side of our brain to the other, zinging around looking for a place to land but not having much luck.

Unfortunately, other kinds of thoughts find a couple brain cells jutting over a vast crevasse and manage to hang a hammock and rest a while, swinging back and forth in the breeze. Thoughts of our inadequacies or weaknesses. The never-ending list of our responsibilities and obligations. The "shoulds" and "oughts" of our lives.

And then there’s the unseen presence that is out to paralyze us. It fills our minds in the quiet of the night when everyone else in the house is asleep, their bodies relaxed, their breathing slow and easy. It’s the giant monster of worry that hides in our bedroom closet or under the bed, waiting to grab us as soon as we relax.

You’ve been there, I know. You’re about asleep in your slippers when you finally hit the mattress, and just as you’re ready to become a citizen of La-la Land you think of something that makes your heart pound harder than a rock musician on the drums, and your skin vibrate more lively than Jimmy Page of Led Zeppelin fame on the bass.

WORRY. A five-letter word that can wreak havoc on our lives. A word that can start as a legitimate prayer concern before butting trust out of the way. Worry steals joy and peace, replacing them with endless churnings of concern and anxiety.

Corrie Ten Boom said, "Worry is a cycle of inefficient thoughts whirling around a center of fear."
That reminds me of when I was a kid and would open the top of the washing machine to watch the agitator in the center whirl the dirty clothes around. There was something nearly hypnotic about the action—clothes and soap bubbles spinning back and forth.

That’s what worry looks like—fear in the midst of agitated chaos. Our mind spins as we try to work out solutions to our concerns, but we’re really visiting the same territory over and over. We somehow believe it’s our responsibility to come up with the right answer; to work our way out of whatever situation we’re facing.

Inefficient thoughts can’t exist in the same space as trust in God’s involvement in our lives. Psalm 46 says, "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear." Later in the chapter we are told to "be still, and know that I am God."
Stillness refers not necessarily to the lack of movement of our body, but I believe, even more, to the state of our mind, heart, and emotions. We can learn to be so focused on Christ and His promises to us, that nothing moves us from His peace. We are still. We are centered on Him instead of fear and worry.

May this year be one of much growth for each of us. May we follow Paul’s directive in II Corinthians 10:5 and "bring every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ."

A Christmas Kaleidoscope

Do you remember the kaleidoscopes you got as a child? You held the long tube up to the light and looked through to see a myriad of colors at the other end. Then you twisted the tube, the colors changing shapes and designs, with new colors replacing the old ones. It never looked the same way twice.

Christmas is much like that. There’s the green of the Christmas tree itself, as well as wreaths and holly. And don’t forget the mistletoe! Green brings freshness into the staleness of our everyday life. The mundane gets replaced by having a tree in the corner of the living room. What a concept! So it can be with our spirit. Life-as-usual is replaced with the realization that the freshness of Christ Himself came to dwell with man, right in the corner of our living room!


Red lifts our spirits and gladdens our hearts. It’s found in ribbons and bows that wrap around a gift. Isn’t it fun to get presents from our children, spouse, or friends? We place them under the tree, waiting for the right moment to untie the red ribbon and see what lies within. So it is with God’s gift to us. In the fullness of time He presented His gift, the gift of His only son. We can leave that present under the tree, simply admiring its beauty, or we can touch the blood-red ribbon He wrapped the gift with, and open the mystery waiting inside.

Then there’s the beautiful blue that offsets and contrasts with the other Christmas colors. Blue can have a very calming effect on people, and we all know we need a heaping serving of serenity at this time of the year. Though we want everything to be perfect, we have to realize we can’t make that happen. Only God was able to do that.

Think about it—take the stress surrounding the census, a nearly 100-mile donkey trip, a husband who refused to make motel reservations, and a KOA campground that was severely lacking in amenities, and you have the stress surrounding Mary at the time of the first Christmas. I wonder how she was feeling and speaking as she made that long, uncomfortable trip. Was she serene, sitting on the bony back of a donkey mile after mile, a beatific smile on her face, already posing for all the Christmas cards that would grace people’s mantels a couple thousand years later?

Or was she griping like I would have been? "Joseph, are we there yet? My back is killing me. Yes, I’m sure you would have preferred to leave me home with my mother, but a wife’s supposed to follow her husband, you know! Griping? I’ll show you griping! If you think it’s so easy, you try doing this when you’re nine months pregnant!"

The Bible doesn’t record any of that. But what we do know is that Emmanuel, God With Us, joined Mary and Joseph in the midst of their discomfort, fears, uncertainty, economic unrest, and distance from family. Ever been in that place? Isn’t it comforting to know we’re not left to muddle through on our own, but that the very Lord of Heaven walks along beside us?

Silver and gold remind us of the royalty of Christ. Though He came as the babe in the manger, He will return as the conquering king. Every knee will bow before Him in recognition of who He truly is and what He has done for mankind. May we, this Christmas season, look around and see Jesus in the world around us. We don’t have to wait until He comes back.

Book Review of The Fence My Father Built, by Linda S. Clare

Take a father who longs to be part of his daughter’s life, a broken marriage between an interracial couple, and a young girl who grows up knowing a part of her life is missing. Add a legacy of alcoholism and addiction that follows the girl into adulthood, and her need to know the side of the family she was never around. Mix in a rebellious teenage girl, potbellied pigs, an intriguing male neighbor, and a fence line built of oven doors, and you have The Fence My Father Built.

Set mostly in the open range of Central Oregon, Ms. Clare’s novel follows the story of Muri Pond, who has been called to settle some family business left behind when her father dies. A feud existed between her dad and Linc Jackson, the man who "owns" the town, with the ownership of land and a creek in question. It’s up to Muri to find the cause of the disagreement and try to right it. In the process, she discovers much about her own background and faith, and why it’s so important.

Ms. Clare draws from her own experience of discovering her Native American heritage. She brings to life eccentric characters whose lives present an interesting change from the norm. She did a great job capturing the ongoing clash between Muri and her teenage daughter. (I’m thinking the voice of experience here!) Ms. Clare deals with cultural relationships that are seldom explored in books, leading to thought-provoking moments for the reader.

The Fence My Father Built is a well-written novel that will leave you waiting impatiently for Ms. Clare’s next book. I gladly give it four stars.

What I Learned at the Knee of NaNo

With a title like this, maybe you think I have a special nickname for my grandma, and I've been sitting at her feet gleaning great wisdom. (As my dad always said, "I learned it at my mother's knee, and certain other joints!")



No, my grandparents have all passed on, so I'm not talking about them. I'm referring to NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. It's actually a world-wide writing event, in which you sign up and strive to write 50,000 words during the month of November. My understanding is that 177,000 people signed up for it this year, and 30,000-something met their goal. I'm very happy to say I was one of them!



Fifty thousand words may not sound like a lot, but when I first sat down in front of my blank computer screen, it seemed nearly insurmountable. I only had the germ of an idea for a story. I knew who my main character was and one event that would happen to her, but that was it. Not much to go on, huh?



I decided to jump right in and have something happen to her on the first page. The story began to grow from there. The fun thing about NaNo is that the writer is not allowed to edit themselves as they write. When I've written in the past, I could get hung up for ten minutes looking through my thesaurus trying to find the exact word to express myself. But not during Nano. I had the freedom to throw words on the screen and keep typing. My story makes sense (I didn't repeat one sentence over and over) but it's certainly not good writing. I don't have the layers and subplots woven through like I will when it's polished. But I've got a great start.

For the past year or more I have just dinked around with my writing. I've had so many family situations I've been in the midst of that I felt it wasn't possible to write. And yet at the end of the day I would often think, "Just what have I accomplished today?"

During NaNo I found I could set daily word counts and meet them. Most days I did between 2,000 and 2,500 words, but one day I managed 4,300. I was able to take days off for family activities by going over my quota for several days in a row. I learned to have contests with myself. I wrote down how many words I wrote in a thirty minute time frame and tried to beat it in the next thirty minutes. And I always did.

I learned to say no to some invitations in order to keep writing. I learned that when family crises continued to hit and I didn't want to write I could still force myself to do so, regardless of my feelings.

I think my grandma would be proud.

Peace in the Pieces

November—the month that makes us realize the year is nearly over. Nights are long and the rainy days seem to last forever. Children complain about sore throats and come home from school with hacking coughs. Christmas is just around the corner, bringing with it the panic of trying to fit in Christmas parties and programs, trips to the mall, cookie baking marathons, and sending out Christmas cards. This is a busy time of year, and we women can easily get overwhelmed. It feels like everyone wants a piece of us.

I believe that within our heart there is a desire to be calm and focused; not caught up in the whirlwind of busyness that surrounds us and threatens to suck us into the vortex of a life out of control. How do we find peace in the midst of chaos?

In John 16:33 Jesus says, "These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world."

Psalm 26:3,4 gives us a beautiful promise: "You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord is everlasting strength."

Another reminder of our source of peace is found in John 14:27 where Jesus tells us of a wonderful gift He is offering—"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."

We have a choice to make. Will we let God control the events of the day, or try to manipulate them ourselves? It is so important to take/make time at some point each day to settle down in a comfy chair, maybe with a cup of coffee or tea nearby, and just cozy up in the Lord’s lap. Read a favorite passage in the Bible and meditate on the words. How do they apply to your life? What is God saying to you? Just sit and let your thoughts be open to soaking up the truth of God’s word. Then, after your soul has been refreshed, join in the activity around you with a thankful heart. One that knows the source of peace.

How Embarrassing!

Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is to say you have a blog, but you rarely post anything?

What does a non-blogger, who has a blog, look like? Their skin is creased and wrinkled from holding their head in their hands while moaning, "Alas, alas. What can I possibly write about that would be of interest to others?" A flabby stomach greets them when they finally rise from hours spent in front of a blank computer screen. Vericose veins march their way across the non-bloggers thighs in protest of too little walking. Eyes are dull, just like one's mind. It's a sad state of affairs, I tell you. Either that, or old age!

My postings have been so few, and so far apart, that I'm sure no one reads them but me. But I've found a new sense of discipline this month and I believe I can start posting a couple times a week. Even if I'm the only one who reads them, at least I can be consistent.

My new realization that I can be disciplined about my writing has come from participating in a world-wide event during the month of November. It's called National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short. Or NaNo for shorter. The goal is to write 50,000 words of a new novel during November. That's a lot of words for most of us to reach in that amount of time.

This came at the perfect time for me. I had just come up with the germ of an idea for a new story I wanted to write on my own. I had just become represented by a new agent who I know will require a lot from me. So I signed up. At this point, I've written 27,549 words. I think I'm going to make it!

And as I go through the rest of the month, I'll also blog. They may not be deep and insightful, but as I've found by NaNoing, they just need to be written.

Review of A Slow Burn, by Mary DeMuth

What would you do if you were called to the morgue to identify the body of your thirteen-year-old daughter? What emotions would course through your soul as you were hit with the realization your drug and alcohol abuse may have played a part in the loss of your only child? What guilt might you attribute to her young friend, Jed, who was the last person to see her alive?

Emory Chance is a mother living through such an unthinkable situation. She seeks to find out who murdered her daughter, and why. Things like this just don't happen in their small Texas town. Others deal with problems of their own: Hixon, a man who believes God has told him to marry Emory, though they have little in common, and Jed, the boy reeling under the regret of not walking his friend home after they had last played together. The lives of these three characters intersect in unusual ways, up to the last pages of the book.

A Slow Burn is the sequel to Mary DeMuth's novel, Daisy Chain. It's important to read them in the correct order. Ms. DeMuth's writing is stellar--deep and flowing. The characters come alive and may remind you of people you've known in your past. Huge topics of forgiveness, regret, guilt, and blame are dealt with. This book will grab your emotions and give them a hard twist before leaving you with a satisfying ending. The two books would make a wonderful Christmas present. I give A Slow Burn one of my rare five-star ratings!

Expect the Unexpected

Just a quick note today before flying out to the national American Christian Writers Conference, held this year in beautiful Denver, CO. I always have these grand plans of being prepared a day ahead of time, just needing to put my toiletries in at the last minute. But, as usual, I was up late last night finishing my to-do list.

One of the necessary things before taking off on a trip is to make sure the bills are all paid. Because John is a school teacher and just gets paid during the school year, summer is a lo-o-o-ng stretch with little income. By the time September rolls around we're counting the days until the end of the month and a pay check. But there was no getting around it on Saturday--I had to pay those pesky bills.

I wondered aloud, "Lord, how are we going to do this?" I closed the checkbook and walked away, still stymied. A few minutes later Christina brought my mail and placed it on the counter. What did I find tucked between various junk mail and fliers? A check from the school district John had tuned for several weeks ago--to the "tune" of $1,000. Thank you Lord!

On Monday I happened to stick my hand in the back pocket of a pair of capris and felt a hard lump. (No, it wasn't me!) I dug a little deeper and pulled out a folded roll of $14. I realized it was left over from going to the State Fair and not wanting to carry a purse. What's funny is that those pants had gone through the wash probably four or five times since then, and the money was still perfect. It wasn't enough to do much on the bills, but it was there. Thank you, Lord!

God gives us unexpected blessings more than we realize. It may be a $14 blessing--an easy-to-find-parking space, a new checkout line opening up at the grocery store when we're in a rush, or a phone call from a friend--these small things we blithely accept, then move on. It's the $1,000 blessings that garner our attention--healing from a disease, a restored relationship, a job after being out of work for months. But I say blessings are blessings are blessings! Keep your eyes open today for what the Lord is doing in your life. I'd love for you to leave a comment and let me know what you see!

The Great Cover Up

I don’t know about you, but there are times when I’m a messy cook. People always say, “The proof’s in the pudding,” but for me, the proof’s in the cookbook. Just thumbing through my cookbooks can prove my claim, as pages are glued together by an errant drop of batter or boldly decorated with oil splatters.

Not only are my recipe pages victims of unplanned food fights, but my clothes become part of the fray. Homemade barbecue sauce accidentally dribbles down a white blouse, or chocolate pudding on my jeans. Sometimes, if I put my clothes in the washer with hot water and no soap, I could end up with a unique soup!

Because of my propensity to wear ingredients instead of mixing them, I rely on a relic from the past—an apron. I’ve had a lot of different kinds of aprons throughout my decades as a wife, but my favorite is the one my parents got me for my birthday last year. It’s an old-fashioned cobbler apron in a pattern that appears to have come from the 1950s—drawings of dishes, stoves, mixers, and tea kettles, all colored in red and green. Every time I look at it, a gentle breeze of nostalgia caresses my mind.

Now you may not be a woman who must cover up with an apron, but there’s a cover up that we all need to use much more than we do. I Peter 4:8 says, “Above all things have fervent love for one another, for love will cover a multitude of sins.” Yep, what the world needs now is love, sweet love. It’s what our church needs, as well as our friends and members of our families.

I’m not talking about a kind of love that glosses over the seriousness of others’ sins. Not a love that turns its head the other way when wrongs are committed, or a love that refuses to take a stand when injustice is involved. None of those are really love, but an easy way out of confrontation or accountability. There are times love has to be tough.

The verse in I Peter is a reference to Proverbs 10:12, which says, “Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all sins.” When we make a conscious choice to overlook an offense against us, we are taking away the power of strife and adding a huge measurement of love. When someone hurts us, either intentionally or without meaning to, we have the option of tamping our resentment down into the crevices of our heart, where it hardens, or of letting it go. If we cherish resentment, instead of the relationship with the person involved, we are the one to lose.

So the next time you don an apron, or look down at your messy clothes and think, “I should have worn an apron,” remember the greatest cover up of all—love.

Interview With My Daughter, Author Christina Berry--The Familiar Stranger

There are days in the life of a mother when her heart nearly bursts with pride at the accomplishment of her daughter. Maybe it's the first time she uses the potty, or her high school graduation. (Hopefully there's a long time between the two!) Perhaps it's her wedding day, or the birth of her first child.

I've watched my daughter, Christina Berry, follow her dream for the past ten years--her dream of writing a book and having it published. I've seen her persevere through the times when it seemed like it may never happen, and I've been there to jump and squeal with excitement when it did. She's got a two-month blog tour going on with the release of her debut novel, The Familiar Stranger. It's my joy and privilege to introduce you to a side of Christina maybe you don't know.

Welcome to The Mother Blog, Christina. It's great to have you here. I hope you'll feel at ease as we spend a few minutes getting to know each other better.

I know you were born in NV, (I remember it well) but where else have you lived? What was your favorite place and why?

From NV to Georgia for the language school before you guys were sent to Nigeria, West Africa. Then stateside to recup in South Lake Tahoe, CA, one year in Reno, NV, most of my growing up in Fallon, high school in Pendleton, OR, college in Forest Grove and now settled in the metropolis of Gaston,OR. (625 people)

My favorite place would have to be ... your womb. I had no worries, was always well-fed and warm enough, and my skin was baby soft!

What was your family like?

Crazy! If I were to tell you some of the stories ... man, especially about my mother! She threw shoes before it was even Middle-eastern-cool to throw them. :-) Really, I had a fantastically close family growing up. Friends used to say that our house was better than Disneyland because they could feel the love. My parents taught me God's way not only with words, but with actions.

What was the best advice your parents ever gave you?

That life wasn't fair. I actually don't remember hearing this often, but you claim to have said it often, and I trust you, so I'll believe it. Here's the thing: you were right. This last year has proven beyond a doubt that life is not fair ... and that our God is!

How did you come to know the Lord?

My daddy was a pastor. Not even four years old, sitting in church, I heard Dad preach about heaven and hell, and thought, "I want to be with God in heaven." A very simple choice, which many could say didn't mean anything because of my depth, or lack thereof, of understanding and my young age. To that I say, like a marriage vow, a promise can be made for a lifetime with no real comprehension of what the commitment entails, but it's no less a promise.

Long about 9th grade, I went through a time of questioning: do I really believe this for myself, or am I leaning on my parents' faith? It didn’t take long to figure out that nothing in this world makes sense if God didn't make it, if He doesn't control it and redeem it, and nothing is worth living for if Jesus isn't coming back. Since then, I’ve never doubted, though I have wrestled.

Your book is entitled The Familiar Stranger. How did you feel about strangers when you were young? Has your perspective changed?

I'm pretty sure I was shy and ran from strangers. Now, I'm much more extroverted. I'll talk to inanimate objects if no one is around! Plus, listening to strangers' conversations or watching gestures is fascinating as book research.

Is there anything you've never confessed to me that you'd like to right here in front of millions of readers?

Once--unbeknownst to me--a chocolate chip got stuck in my belly button, melted, and I thought I was bleeding. Oh, wait, you already know that ...

I snuck out of the house one time in high school to walk the loop with some friends. Terrified of something tragic befalling me and you never knowing what happened, I left an apologetic note on my pillow in case you checked on me. Uh ... you already knew that too. Guess I have no secrets from you, Mom!

Your birthday is the last day of this month. What was your most unusual birthday celebration? The time you packed a picnic for us to take up on the huge stone hill in Nigeria. Once we spread out our food and began to eat, the witch doctor woman came out and yelled and cursed us and ran us off the mountain.

I thought that would be the one you picked! I remember being emotionally wrung out from that experience and we came home and I spent the rest of the day on the couch. You made your own birthday cake, using a little "play" mix someone had sent you for Christmas. I felt like I'd win the award for the International Worst Mother of the Year! But it didn't seem to scar you for life, and you've never held it against me.

Christina is a single mom and foster parent who carves time to write from her busy schedule because she must tell the stories that haunt her every waking moment. (Such is the overly dramatic description of an author's life!) She holds a BA in Literature, yet loves a good Calculus problem, as well. Her debut novel, The Familiar Stranger, releases from Moody in September and deals with lies, secrets, and themes of forgiveness in a troubled marriage. A moving speaker and dynamic teacher, Christina strives to Live Transparently--Forgive Extravagantly!Her work has also appeared in The Secret Place, The Oregonian, and Daily Devotions for Writers. Find her at http://www.christinaberry.net and http://www.authorchristinaberry.blogspot.com/.

Christina, it's been fun to sit down and visit with you about your life and your book. We don't want to leave without inviting people to sign up for our infrequent, humorous newletter. There's a great contest going on at the Ashberry Lane newsletter, so everyone needs to stop by www.ashberrylane.net/update.aspx and sign up. Is there anything else you'd like to say in closing?

I just want to thank you for being the best mom in the whole world.

(So, okay, I didn't ask Christina that last question, but I'm sure that's what she'd say!!)

If you leave a comment on this blog, you'll automatically be entered to win an autographed copy of The Familiar Stranger.

Look for Christina's next interview tomorrow with Edwina Cowgill at http://musingsofedwinacowgill.blogspot.com