WhatIf?

It's Six O'clock Somewhere

2011-05-26T16:59:00.000-07:00

May 23

It’s six o’clock somewhere. No, doomsday didn’t come at six on May 21 like the nutcase said it would. But boy did he stir up a hornet’s nest. I believe he got more press on that than Pope John’s funeral! It was one of those ‘events’ when both the loonies and the sensible folk were on the same page: this guy was not credible.

All right. So I got really spooked on May 21 at half past six...AM! When the hotel fire alarm suddenly woke us in a very dark room. When I pulled the heavy blinds open, the blazing sun was like x-ray coming in there (Shekinah glory?) and I simply could not help having a glimmer of wonderment. After all, God could have raptured the church or done whatever He wanted on May 21 regardless of what some kook said.

But He didn’t. An oven fire made the alarm go off. The Shekinah glory was sunshine! We are not delivered. Darn. But before we throw out this over- chewed bone and go on to other things, it bears pondering. My sister in law had a massive stroke that morning. In Joplin, Missouri, six o’clock came on May 22, when a killer tornado brought down wrath that must have seemed like Armageddon. It sure looks like Armageddon there today.

Every day, in Japan, in Haiti, in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, in an overcrowded truck van trying to sneak into the country with a hundred desperate Mexicans stuffed in like sardines, in Libya as a bomb lands in a parking lot, in Syria as a sniper hits a protester, in Mississippi as floodwaters sweep across what minutes ago was a highway, it becomes a day of judgment. There is only one way to be safe from the terrors of our day. We have to trust the creator God who put us here.

It’s not like He didn’t warn us. It’s been there for centuries, the safety manual. He told Moses to “write very clearly” on stones how to avoid disasters. He said the Levites (the priests) were to recite in a loud voice how to live. (Deuteronomy 27:14-26) The rules are pretty much the same thing taught in the ten commandments (remember them?).

And this time, Instead of “Thou shalt” and “Thou shalt not”, He says cursed be the man who does wrong. Then He goes on to give a litany of good stuff that happens to those who obey. Simply put, the obedient servant gets plenty, safety, prosperity, mercy, and will come out on top.

Then God gave them the other side of the coin. Curses for being disobedient reads like today’s newspaper. Confusion, sudden ruin, drought, flood, disease, want, despair, oppression, ruin, poverty.

I hesitate to say we are reaping the harvest of all our bad choices and rebellions against God because I don’t want to have to apologize to Diane Sawyer on national television. But I’m going out on a limb here and say it anyway. If we would consider...just consider...for a moment that maybe this ain’t global warming; maybe God’s hand has raked across this great nation in anger without regard to persons I certainly don’t think Joplin, Missouri is where I’d rake my hand if I had to choose the worst town. But do your homework; when David angered the Lord by his disobedience, many died of illness before David got it right.

I don’t doubt that somewhere in America there are despicable people who deserve the wrath of God any given day for their evil deeds. Yet God chose the Mississippi to remind us that because of our luke warm faith He will spew us out of His mouth. Like vomit the river belched its way down the heart of this nation leaving a path of ruin that was referenced often by the television anchors as ‘biblical’. Remember, God Himself said He was no respecter of persons. The rain falls on the just and unjust.

I actually heard some questioning if the earthquake and tsunami that hit Japan so recently was a judgment on the nation: how politically incorrect we are when it’s not US.

So. I’m just saying. The “end” didn’t come as predicted on May 21 at six o’clock. But in light of all the birth pang-like happenings on this small planet Earth, every day it’s six o’clock somewhere.

Book review: "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini

2011-05-01T16:55:00.000-07:00

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

Review

This beautiful, tender, tragic story has exposed several paradoxes. There are both gentle, godly Muslims and there are cruel, ungodly Muslims. Within one heart there are levels of suffering and despair beyond imagination and there is hope that can see a thousand splendid suns in the midst of a nightmarish persecution beyond belief.

I loved this book; this is the Afghan woman’s equivalent to “The Kite Runner” that broke our hearts as well. Khaled Hosseini has drawn with his straightforward prose a plot that is all too believable for those of us who remember the Soviet pounding of Afghanistan followed by Jihad followed by the ruthless Taliban, each situation a worse hell than the former.

What I loved most was the gentle hints of the evolving grace and maturity of these two amazing women, Mariam and Laila, as their hapless situations bring them into a sisterhood that is closer than blood relationship.

While Laila has that survivor instinct that we admire and applaud, Mariam becomes the true heroine. I loved how her generous spirit and sacrificial act gives Laila and the children and Tariq a chance, finally, for a peaceful life.

One has to ponder as both the brutal Rasheed and the gentle Mariam face their mortality, how eternity might judge them.

WhatIf?: Review:"A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini

2011-04-08T18:01:00.000-07:00

WhatIf?: Review:"A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini

Review:"A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini

2011-04-08T17:58:00.000-07:00

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini

Review

This beautiful, tender, tragic story has exposed several paradoxes. There are both gentle, godly Muslims and there are cruel, ungodly Muslims. Within one heart there are levels of suffering and despair beyond imagination and there is hope that can see a thousand splendid suns in the midst of a nightmarish persecution beyond belief.

I loved this book; this is the Afghan woman’s equivalent to “The Kite Runner” that broke our hearts as well. Khaled Hosseini has drawn with his straightforward prose a plot that is all too believable for those of us who remember the Soviet pounding of Afghanistan followed by Jihad followed by the ruthless Taliban, each situation a worse hell than the former.

What I loved most was the gentle hints of the evolving grace and maturity of these two amazing women, Mariam and Laila, as their hapless situations bring them into a sisterhood that is closer than blood relationship.

While Laila has that survivor instinct that we admire and applaud, Mariam becomes the true heroine. I loved how her generous spirit and sacrificial act gives Laila and the children and Tariq a chance, finally, for a peaceful life.

One has to ponder as both the brutal Rasheed and the gentle Mariam face their mortality, how eternity might judge them.

JAN KARON'S "IN THE COMPANY OF OTHERS" IS PURE PLEASURE

2011-01-18T14:12:00.000-08:00

Critique: Jan Karon’s “In The Company Of Others”

Jan Karon has perfected the art of making her main character all things: Father Tim is at once human and divine with his humble spirit and Godly wisdom. He seems to be as inept and cowardly as I am yet his shepherding always bring a healing and reconciling to those involved once he is reluctantly drawn in. And the kinds of problems he’s drawn into make me conclude people are people whether in Mitford or in Ireland.

In this novel we get the double whammy of enjoying the Kavanaugh experience-vacationing in Ireland, the ancestral home, while keeping up with Dooley and Lace back home, hearing from Emma via hilarious e-mails, plus exploring the mysteries of broken relationships that go back to the mid 1800’s via a doctor’s ancient diary and secret chamber in the cellar:new fodder for Karon, this book. No wonder she calls it her favorite, her “Dark Haired Child”. The effort she has put into researching and crafting this book are evident everywhere.

What has made Karon my favorite writer is her prose style that pulls me in as if I’m there experiencing it all: the sights, the sounds, the smells, the angst in every situation. An example: by sentence one we’re in a summer downpour, by page two we share Father Tim’s-referred to forthwith as ‘him’ or ‘his’-frustrations with all kinds of travel. We get our first taste of Irish witticisms from the driver, “There’s nothin’ so bad it couldn’t be worse-another bend comin’ up!” And “You believe in fairies?”..”Ah, no, not a bit. But they’re there nonth’less.” “You’ve never seen one, then?” “If it’s fairies ye’re after, they’re said to be very numerous in Mayo.” Love it!

Before I let go the Irish witticisms, a couple that were delightful were Lian’s “Bolting the door with a boiled carrot” and Maureen’s “tis a lonely washin’ that hasn’t a man’s shirt in it”. And I need to remember the Irish jokes told as Cynthia painted William; they were golden.

I love that ‘he’ has a gnawing little sin of jealousy about Cynthia’s writing and painting (page 19) observing she’d brought sketchbooks and had an email from her editor exhorting her to ‘get a book out of Ireland’. (which she promised him she’d ignore) After 60 years of bachelorhood, he’d discovered a terrible truth: ‘without her he was beached’.

Reading Karon is pure joy. I can page through this book, now completed, and find nuggets on every page I want to sample again, like Whitman’s chocolates. Little composite masterpieces of humanity that mirror my understanding of what life is about: family, honor, obedience, encouragement, forgiveness; honestly this would make a good study in human relations on its own merit. And entertained in the bargain, as ‘he’ would say!

For instance: page 239 when he shares with Anna and counsels her by telling his own experience with Dooley. “So please tell me reverend..(through p 239)

I thought I’d found the point of the story until I got to the complexity of Evelyn’s life! Saw that he had more work to do; and JK knit all the intrinsics together so we came to her conversion (Karon leaves no soul unconverted, I believe) I don’t believe anyone but JK could pull this off without losing the reader. But when the confessing and forgiving is done between crusty William and flinty Evelyn it’s a blast: p 380 (entire page) through 381 “sit down, you old gossoon’. LOVED IT.

My one criticism is that the celebrating went on overly long; the rest of the book seems to be mending fences and high fiving between the characters but it’s such a joyful thing we don’t mind. And the icing on the cake? Getting the mystery resolved about what happened to the O’Donnell family and young Eunan. LOVED IT.

WhatIf?: What if we go backwards and find our future?

2011-01-11T17:37:00.000-08:00

WhatIf?: What if we go backwards and find our future?

What if we go backwards and find our future?

2011-01-11T17:36:00.000-08:00

It's sad as we watch not only the tragedy in Tucson but the tragedy of bad opinions play out on television. No sooner does the victim lie at the feet of the assassin than the blame game begins. We can no longer let the guilty be guilty; there has to be somebody else to blame. Surely.

This is like watching the Virginia Tech tragedy again. Two very disturbed young men, wasting themselves on mindless violence against people they didn't even know for a reason we will never understand, but why?

Could it be because in this world inundated with mindless violence in video, movie, music, television, and in a vacuum with no moral instruction whatsoever at school and too often none at home either, our children are growing up with no moral clarity? Why wouldn't they be drawn to the bizarre kind of mind games on the internet that seemed to influence the young man in Tucson?

What if we had not removed prayer, then bibles, then the ten commandments from the classroom? These tools served our nation so wonderfully for nearly 200 years. Since we had virtually no such violent occurrences in 200 years, could we concur they gave moral clarity? If we could simply replace these time worn and successful tools, what a difference it could make. We would not have to instill any particular religion or dictate religion. Teach all religions! Give our children the TRUTH. Let them learn what has driven history and then decide for themselves what belief will drive them. What could be more fair? What could be more sensible? How many more Virginia Techs and Columbines and Tucsons must we witness before we wake up?

If we got out that old playbook and hung up the ten commandments and read a little scripture and had the kids learn about the great religions of the world and what each has contributed, well, maybe we could find our future? Maybe we could have a future.

WhatIf?: Cats: Gotta Love 'Em

2010-12-27T16:28:00.000-08:00

WhatIf?: Cats: Gotta Love 'Em

Cats: Gotta Love 'Em

2010-12-27T16:27:00.000-08:00

What the email delivered recently. What a hoot. Actually, my daughter-in-law's cat, Torey, ate the rubber end of a door stop and after a lengthy surgery and several thousand dollars, she's on the road to recovery. My cats are never very hungry, being grazers, so they usually prefer scratching the sofa to scarfing down rubber tips. My Gracie, however, did take a fancy to my toothbrush recently so we had to find higher ground than the vanity top to protect our interest. I'm waiting for Henry, our male tabby, to wake me up one morning wearing John's partial denture plate!

Reader reviews of The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls.

2010-09-27T17:22:00.000-07:00

Reader reviews of The Glass Castle by Jeannette Walls.

Here's my two cents' worth on Walls' intriguing book and bio.

September 11, 2010: Something is changing.

2010-09-13T17:31:00.000-07:00

Anniversaries. What good are they? It's 9/11 again. For the ninth year we sit and watch the towers fall at ground zero. We watch the brave responders do what they do. We watch bodies fall from hundreds of feet. We will not, we cannot forget. We remember every detail of our day on Sept. 11, 2001. Do we get less emotional after 9 years? Maybe. But this year is different. This year, the lines across our ideologies seem sharper, more defined, even as many voices blur our hearing. Tolerance, rights, call it what you will. I get the idea skepticism is a new four letter word. Trust is the new tolerance. If we doubt the intention of those who want a mosque next to ground zero, we are labeled intolerant- phobia- laced bigots.

The Iman who insists the mosque must go right into the heart of ground zero is now 'warning' us that to resist will inflame extremists to violence. And my short answer is "What's your point?" When did we not inflame extremists? I am embarrassed by the quaking of knees all over this country that we might offend our enemies.

Look, we just want to exercise our rights of protection from extremists. And our critics will demand, "how do we know the mosque would harbor extremists?"
How do we know they would not?

Revenge of the Raptors

2010-06-08T18:19:00.000-07:00

I'm just saying...didn't dinosaurs wind up turning into, ah, oil? After their sudden and tragic demise, they all oozed down into the stratosphere and settled in until such time as Exxon and BP pricked the earth's crust in just the right spot to suck out the crude. And like all such endeavors, stuff happens, things go wrong, and bang! We have all that nasty, brimstone smelling stuff spouting into the sea. Murphy's Law in spades. Now it's gone downhill about as fast and disastrously as we can imagine. The oil is spewing out with the speed of our deficit clock ticking off our future prosperity.
Does anyone feel like 2010 is not going to be a stellar year? Could it be that the Raptors are all sitting around in dinosaur purgatory laughing their scales off saying "Serves them right!"

I'm just saying. This situation needs some serious wisdom seriously soon. God help us. Again.

2010-05-22T12:13:00.000-07:00

Two and a half cats We had a dog and three children and the three children all left home and the dog died. Isn't this supposed to be the part where life begins again? That worked for a season. Okay, we had those 'freedom' years...a few, anyway. Suddenly we got older and spent some time recuperating and what's more therapeutic than a pet? Our kids had pets; dogs, cats, birds, horses, hamsters. They loved those creatures. Why couldn't we have some of that charming company? So we got cats; two scrawny, ordinary short haired (abundantly short haired) cats. That was over five years ago. Life has changed considerably for us. We now share our little retirement cottage with these two manipulative, egotistical super-egos on a pay on demand basis. They demand, we pay. In short, they own us. Not that they are ungrateful. Henry, the one and a half sized twenty one pound orange tabby, thanks me by rubbing my leg whenever I top off his food dish. If I'm wearing black, I get rubbed twice. Gracie, the one size cat, is easy to feed and brush and snuggle, and believes herself to be transparent by the amount of time she spends between me and my computer screen. Henry languishes on my mouse pad and with his leviathan tail swishes my resource books and notes and everything else across the office floor with a flourish. Now I'm not complaining. I adore these two spoiled creatures to a fault. They own my computer desk, my kitchen counter, my green plants, my furniture, my throw rugs, my bathroom and my silly heart. Sure, I am miserable when we're out of town because I worry about the lonely little monsters. Sure, we'd like to have nicer screens on the windows; ones without cat claw marks. Sure, it would be nice to have chairs in the living room not labeled "cat scratching post". But life's short. And Chippendale chairs don't purr and snuggle you and make you laugh and sigh and relax. Cats rule. Surprise.			2 comments	1/8/10	by Barb	Delete
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William Forstchen's scary "One Second After"

2010-05-22T11:24:00.000-07:00

Review: “One Second After” by William R. Forstchen

“One Second After” raised the hackles on my neck as I read William R. Forstchen’s tale of the unspeakable terror of living in a world one second after we are impacted with EMP, electromagnetic pulse weapon. Whether from imagined enemies we may never identify, or from the source of our light and energy, the sun, this threat is real and what is terrifying is that we aren’t taking it seriously or preparing for it.

Forstchen draws his reader into the world as it would be without electricity or mobility. What if we were suddenly thrust into a world where there was no refrigeration, no electric lights, heat, cooling, no television or radio or computers; you are in a moment back where your ancestors were when they had to provide everything for themselves; unwilling and unprepared pioneers.

Soldier turned college professor John Matherson and the ordinary Americans who rise to the occasion of leadership when the unthinkable happens challenge us. Could we survive such a trial and keep the character of civilized, compassionate, godly people? Or would we revert to tribal ways that put no value on the lives of those outside our sphere, those in desperate straits?

As the book takes us through exploring these quandries, we are left to ask ourselves: would we have the spiritual strength, the unshakable faith, to do the right thing even when it meant hardship for ourselves.

This book is no flight of fancy. The possibility of such a horror is very real. We can have two positive responses: urge our leaders to take positive steps to prepare, and be on our knees before God praying it never happens.

Going Wireless: It's TIME!

2010-05-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

Women of the (modern) world, unite. Obviously nothing on the home front is going to change until we make a big stink about it, like women's suffrage or something. For years now I've patiently waited, often suggested to techno-types, that it's time we had a cordless vacuum.

I'm not talking about a wimpy Dirt Devil kind of machine. I'm talking turbo-powered John Deere style cleaning power that we wisk through the house either riding or pushing effortlessly without the annoying ten pound cord.

Yes, cord. Oreck may proudly proclaim their eight pound wonder, but wait. I have this little lightweight. It's fine unless you TURN IT ON. Then it ratchets up about twenty pounds and is tethered to a ten pound cord. Okay, I haven't weighed the thing, I'm just saying it FEELS that heavy. I have estimated that to clean one room, I spend five minutes cleaning the floor and fifteen minutes manipulating the *x&^$#@&$### cord!

Are you hearing us, engineers? Do you care about the fairer sex, inventors? Can we seriously talk about this? I see women having smiles on their faces when Father Knows Best comes home from a hard day at work, dinner simmering, floors shining, children playing Scrabble on the cleanly vacuumed carpet that they pleaded with Mom to be next to clean with the Turbo-Vac. Okay, I'm a dreamer. But think, Mr. I-Can-Put-Batteries-On-Anything. A real cordless vacuum will get you Man of the Year, a bronze bust in the lobby of every hotel, and any real woman you want.

Onesies for guys!

2010-05-06T14:21:00.000-07:00

"Stupid is forever; ignorance can be fixed."..(Don Wood)
I may be opening a can of worms, but what if they made "Onesies" for guys? The idea came to me after baby gift shopping for onesies and noting the return of the body suit for women. If guys wore onesies, we would instantly rid the world of butt crack exposure, when midriff challenged guys bend over to fix stuff. We would never again have to stand in a checkout line behind the kid whose way oversized pants lose the battle with gravity while we stare at his zebra stripe boxers bunched up around his supposed middle. The world would give you a standing ovation, innovator in mens' wear. Get 'er done!

WhatIf?: Hands across the continents

2010-03-29T13:54:00.000-07:00

www.ritastellagalieh.com

Hands across the continents

2010-03-29T13:46:00.000-07:00

Fire In The Rock by Rita Stella Galieh

Reviewed by Barbara Roberts

I was so pleased to receive Rita Stella Galieh’s novel from far off Australia, and intrigued by its title and subject: a title suggesting devastation, or trial by fire, a test some soul had endured and would now tell.

Both the heroine and the period were bound to entertain: a young woman finding answers about her mysterious childhood and finding her way at the turn of the twentieth century in a new federation: Australia. It must have been daunting for a young woman at that time in history to become a journalist, but Opalena, named for the brilliant gems found in that intriguing country, fought her battles with grace and determination, fought her demons with courage and tenacity, and steered through the muddying waters of love and romance without flinching. Well, maybe she flinched a little.

Ms. Galieh has drawn some very endearing characters alongside Opalena. The old miner who was her rescuer,Tom Beecham, exhibits the same sort of simple, dependable character as the most lovable sidekick of the most heroic American cowboy. Her Gee Gee epitomizes ‘supporting role’. The romantic interests of Opalena draw a contrast between the American, Matthew, who is so comfortable in his Christian faith, and the fiery Jewish musician, David, who is resistant to religion.

As the crises arising in her life are played out and resolved, we see a maturing, lovely young woman emerge whose successes and victories we gladly cheer.

Thank you, Rita Stella Galieh, for sharing your vivid and enjoyable panorama of Sydney and other Australian vistas. Your love and delight for your country comes through to us and we are so glad our nations are friends and allies, and that we are joined across the seas in Christian sisterhood and brotherhood. All success to you.

It's payback day, cats!

2010-03-24T16:49:00.000-07:00

The poor guys had to get rabies boosters today. That meant just before 2 o'clock, things needed to be calm around here. Gracie would be napping upstairs on her favorite guest room bed; Henry would be taking a nap with John. Unfortunately, Edward showed up early with the huge compressor going in the mobile vet van and both cats' ESP kicked in. Gracie had disappeared. Not under beds, sofas, or in closets. I grabbed Henry and carried him to Edward, who was armed with a large, threatening towel. Red flags went up and so did a horrible yowl out of Henry, accompanied by some serious hissing.
Fat chance of getting hold of Gracie now. While Edward carried my hissing, claw-weilding Henry out to the compressor-pulsing van, I searched.
I finally found her in the guest room, hunkered down in a corner. She dived (wiggled into) a tiny space under the bedside table, then under the bed and out the door, and down the steps. Wonderful, agile Edward was waiting with the towel, while surly Henry stalked off to nurse his newly clipped nails and sore rump.
Gracie was trapped. She did what any intelligent girl would do. She turned on the helpless, innocent charm she always employs, allowed herself to be carried to the evil van, and took her medicine like a champ.

With any luck, they'll both be too puny to want to sleep on my feet or announce that it's six AM for the next twelve hours. I've sort of earned that.

You have to kiss a lot of frogs..

2010-03-17T16:50:00.000-07:00

Can this truth be applied to learning to use a Mac? Being so techno-challenged, I have worn out the pads of my fingers trying to unlearn mouse maneuvering and achieve unnatural dexterity swiping this pad with a magical mix of select and move. I'm exhausted and still have not mastered 'grab'. I've deleted what needs to be saved and saved what should be trashed. I'm trashed.
If you want to know the truth, I meant to download (upload?) a mad bluebird, not this frog. I don't have to tell you this but I am willing to admit my weaknesses so that you can empathize with me in my trial.
Remember, Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither will my blog.
And coincidentally, Happy St. Patrick's Day. Rivet.

Sally Roseveare having fun at the General Store...again

2010-03-15T10:04:00.000-07:00

Another Book Signing

This seems to be the season when life starts breaking out of the winter doldrums. I've seen more bluebirds, plants that slept all winter are peeping up through the soil, and book signings and appearances are increasing. Last Saturday (March 6) Karen Wrigley, Becky Mushko, Barbara Roberts, and I signed books at The General Store in Moneta.

Becky, Me, and Barbara

I liked where owners Rita and Vickie put us. We had lots of room for our stuff, and plenty of space for fellow book lovers to stop and chat with us and to purchase our books. The staff also kept us supplied with delicious coffee, mini-quiches, and small chocolate eclairs.

Me, Karen, and Barbara

The week before this book signing, Vickie and Rita were at market. You really should stop by and see all the neat things they brought back with them.

Die, adverb!

2010-03-14T14:29:00.000-07:00

Listening to a group (a gaggle?) of writers discuss their writing is a lot like sitting in a room full of fingers and mirrors. So when the issue was the overuse of the maligned adverb, I sank below the radar so to disappear and try to absorb all the excellent advice without once having to raise my hand or stand and say, "Yes, I am an adverb-o-holic."

One writer admitted she went through her entire work identifying "ly" endings and tried eliminating most, including one character's name ending in "ly".

My last manuscript editor was obsessive about commas. She put them everywhere. I obediently added them to my finished work. The print press editor obligingly (egad, another 'ly') removed most of them.

Now wait a minute. Sometimes you just need a good, old fashioned cliche to finish your thought. It's like adding ginger to gingerbread or garlic to spaghetti. It fits. I'm sticking to my adverbs until they make something better. I don't give a flying flip whether it's poetically correct or not!

Getting outside our comfort zones

2010-03-13T14:16:00.000-08:00

It was raining when I left home yesterday to meet with the LakeWriters at Moneta Library. It was tempting to turn around at the first intersection and come home: I was sleep deprived, exhausted, and wary. I knew maybe one, maybe two of the writers who would be sitting around the table discussing their trade.

I steeled my resolve and said No. I am not going to wimp out. This is a door being opened and I mean to go through it. So what if nobody knows a thing about Barb Roberts, or cares? Everybody has to go for the first time sometime, someplace.

When I left the library after a stimulating two hour session with eight enthusiastic writers, I knew it was right to leave my comfort zone and meet with them. They were gracious and welcoming to this novice writer, and I look forward to being there again next month. Maybe I'll bring a poem to read...

2010-03-11T14:08:00.000-08:00

He Is God

I wish I was good.

I wish I always did what's right.

I wish I was brave.

And not afraid of darkest night.

I wish I could answer

Whatever problems come to me

And always be master

Controller of my destiny

I want to be strong

Instead of quaking where I stand,

When something goes wrong,

I want to be in full command.

But I never can!

I try and try and always fail,

And now I know why-

Why on my own I can't prevail

It's God that I need.

It's God who puts strength in me,

Who shows me what's right,

And leads me to my destiny

Oh, why do we wait

And waste so much precious time?

Oh why do we walk

When God has made us for flying?

Our God shows us how.

He's given us everything.

He's hearing our prayers,

He's loving us now while we sing.

Rejoice with me now!

Rejoice and receive His love.

Before Him we bow,

To God, in the heaven above.

Rejoice with me now,

As to Him we offer all

Rejoice with me now,

As to our knees we humbly fall.

He is God.

0 comments:

The Hired Hand

2010-02-25T18:00:00.000-08:00

The most wonderful day of my life happened on November 16, 1944. At least it was the most wonderful day so far. Todd Earnword limped down Promise Road with a worn satchel slung across his shoulder and a walking cane in his left hand, and turned into Grandma Otelia's driveway.

It was balmy for November and I was idly swinging in the tire swing under the nearly bare red oak, skimming through bronzed leaves piled as high as my head. It was blissfully quiet and peaceful, because Henry and Harold were in town getting overdue haircuts. Foxy raised his black and brown head up from his comfortable leaf pallet and glanced indifferently toward the approaching stranger, then slumped back down into neutral. Foxy was a hound dog, not a watchdog.

When the stranger was halfway up the driveway he stopped and waved to me, a wide, disarming smile of white teeth visible clear across the yard. "Hello, young fellow," he called cheerfully. "I'm looking for Mrs. Otelia Miles. Is this the right place?"

Can you spell spontaneity?

2010-02-22T17:21:00.000-08:00

Having a well thought out plan is awesome good. I hope to have that happen someday. But it hasn't happened so far...and you don't even want to know how long "so far" is. But I wonder...what if even God didn't really plan ahead all that carefully? You know that dinosaur thing didn't work out too well for Him, right? I mean, where's the spontaneity? How boring would that be if every day God looked down on the beautiful blue marble, the apple of His eye and said, "Oh, yes, I remember how today goes. Back to bed.

I'm just saying. Look at this terrific cartoon. Don't you love Non Sequitur? Now what would the writer draw on if we all planned ahead? No funnies. No satire. No surprises. God knew what He was doing when He made us, that's for sure.

Look, do you think I knew how to spell spontaneity? Do you think spell check might just be helping keep spontaneity alive?

You go ahead and plan everything ahead and maybe you'll be part of some new world order. I'll take what's behind door #3.

JUST WONDERING>>>

2010-02-21T13:35:00.000-08:00

George Bernard Shaw is credited with saying that the earth is the lunatic asylum of the universe and he might be onto something. But he also said "The man who writes about himself and his own time is the only man who writes about ALL people and ALL time."

Maybe I'm one of the inmates Shaw was talking about, but as a writer who feels compelled to compose yet who has no lofty place of learning from which to draw, I agree. When we consider that the greatest influences of prior centuries largely came from people who never circled the globe or studied with learned scholars, but instead became intimately involved with the things about them that they DID know, well, you get where I'm coming from.

One of the earliest writings known is the biblical story of Job. Where did that great reservoir of wisdom come from? First clue: it was God who brought attention to bear on him. "Have you considered my servant, Job?"

Have you met anyone recently who was this wise? Or as wise as Moses?
Or Socrates? Or Plato?

Today, in my strange little world, I find that most of the great writings and wisdom of our age are on the comics page. Don't laugh. Show me your wise sage on the editorial page de jeur and I'll show you the latest from Non Sequitur. And don't discount Pickles. We'll see who has the last laugh

Becky Mushko reviews "What A Christmas!"...thanks, Becky.

2010-02-15T16:32:00.000-08:00

From Becky Mushko's Peevish Pen blog.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2010
Two Books by Regional Authors
Since the last couple of months have kept me snowbound, I've been reading a lot. I haven't posted any reviews for a good while, so it's about time I did.

Just before Christmas, I read a couple of novels that would appeal to young people. Both were written by people who live in my region: B.R. Roberts of Lynchburg and Charles Shea Lemone of Ferrum. I've had the pleasure of meeting both authors.

B.R. Roberts' What a Christmas!, which Roberts self-published in 2007 through Xulon Publishing, is the story of Clementine Rose Miles, a plucky ten-year-old who encounters many adventures during December 1944. Some of the adventures of Clementine Rose's extended family—who all live within a stone's throw of each other—are humorous, but the death of a family member threatens to cancel Christmas. Told in the first person, the story unfolds through Clementine Rose's eyes, and she doesn't miss a thing.

My favorite scene was the Christmas pageant where anything that could go wrong did go wrong. I laughed out loud while reading it.

Because of the main character's age during all but the first and last chapters, What a Christmas! would be classified as a middle grade novel. However, this book will also appeal to older readers—it certainly appealed to me.

Roberts' novel, rich in family values, would be an excellent source to introduce today's youngsters to a period of history when life was both simpler and yet more complicated than life today.

~~~~~~~~

Another book that would appeal to older readers is Charles Shea Lemone's Corner Pride, an edgy young adult novel. Published by MultiCultural Educational Publishing Company, Corner Pride is set in 1957 in "the most gang-infested neighborhood in North Philadelphia." Most of the action takes place in summer.

Corner Pride focuses on 12-year-old James ("Curly") Wylie and 18-year-old Barry ("Bear") Brown. eBoth hope to avoid gang activity and to escape their neighborhood and its bad influences. Bear has a shot at becoming a successful prizefighter; James wants to become a writer. Despite their attempts to avoid association with the local gang, both become involved in gang activity—and only one escapes.

Corner Pride isn't suitable for middle-graders, but young adults would enjoy it—especially inner-city teens, who might identify with one or both protagonists. Even though the subject matter of the book is way outside my experience, I found Corner Pride interesting and enlightening.

Like What a Christmas!, Corner Pride demonstrates the importance of family. Clementine Rose is surrounded by an extended family; James' parents are supportive and caring.

The two books provide vastly different reading experiences, but they each convey a worthwhile message.

What if...the government had built Disney World?

2010-02-06T14:19:00.000-08:00

I can't really get my mind around what Disney World cost. It's been there long enough to expect not anything like it would now, these thirty-nine years later. But listening to the latest deficit figures being thrown around by the pundits, I wonder. What if the feds told us they were going to build Washington Land? They have, say, 27,000 acres (what Disney had) and a gazillion dollars (that's a one with fifteen zeros: I'm inventing). It's going to create a million new jobs, most of them civil servants. It will have everything: beautiful parks, rides, trains, entertaining shows, parades, restaurants, shops, hotels, lush gardens and music wafting everywhere while sprites of water crisscross the walks and cool you in summer.
Walt Disney dreamed his magnificent dream walking through amusement parks and created Disney Land in 1955. By 1971, five years after his death, the second phase of his dream came true when Disney World opened in Orlando. Soon, in 1982 there was Epcot, then MGM Studio Land in 1989, and in 1995, Blizzard Beach. The dream brought many jobs and much joy to Americans. Can we dream again and make our own achievements so grand? Would it ever happen if it was a government plan?
Oh, by the way: the proposed location for my utopian "Washington Land" is Tampa. Why? Because we're building a super train to nowhere, and this way there's a destination. I wonder if Walt Disney planned the park first, or the monorail?
Now. How soon can we expect to enjoy this wonderful park that will create jobs, save the economy, the budget, while providing a beautiful place to vacation all summer?
I'll have to get back to you on that. First, we'll have to get it through committee....

WeRead

2010-01-17T11:53:00.000-08:00

How's your memory? How many books that you read in the past year come to mind in the next minute? WeRead puts them on a "touch and remember' basis. Busy people can't remember everything they learned or experienced in a book; here's a tool that will bring your most pivotal gleanings right back in focus.

2010-01-17T11:30:00.000-08:00

WELCOME TO WHAT IF

What if...cats could talk? It's redundant to ask because actually cats do talk, quite well, in fact, with their body language. Hey, if those people on TV can tell whether one is sincere, intimidated, lying, on and on, with a snippet of tape, you bet body language is important. Cats do it about as well as anyone. Henry, for instance. If he's impatient with me about something, he lies down a few feet away and uses his tail like an impatient fist, slamming it rhythmically on the floor until I get the message.
If he's pleased, indulged, he will swing same tail in playful darts in sync with my teasing comments to him until we both tire of the game.
His ears are also verbal: get him riled and they lay back saying "Back off or I'm swatting you with these lethal claws!" If things are going his way, he listens to every word around him using those ears like sonar, letting them sort of tweak when the compliments are about him.
Paws work too. Rub him, pat him, and they squeeze like little happy accordians, saying "Yes!"
Gracie, my girlfriend cat, uses her very presence as vocabulary. She is patience personified. She will sit by the pantry for amazingly long spells waiting for me to notice her food dish needs replenishing. She waits until it's filled before she daintily picks a morsel to munch. Henry, on the other hand, plows in like a starved hyena. But he is such a gentleman about tipping the waitress. I always get a nudge against my leg that says "Thanks" so eloquently. I get two nudges if I'm wearing dark slacks that attract cat hair.
Gracie sits for hours on my vanity watching the water dish we have there for her; Henry prefers the fountain with running water that requires weekly cleaning. Gracie waits for a stray Q-tip or small makeup sponge and entertains herself batting them around. She is 'there' for her morning brushing as soon as my...as soon as I sit down in the bathroom, okay? Towel on lap, cat on lap; it's a daily routine. And I brush and tell her how beautiful she is for 5 minutes which she rewards with steady purring and offering the top of her head for kisses.
They are teaching me so much!

Excerpt from "Not In My Wildest Dreams"

2010-01-08T17:45:00.000-08:00

The Emancipation of Clementine Miles

"If there's anything that you can't find a spot for, honey, we'll come back and get it next week," Rose declared bravely, tucking new sheets around the pitifully thin mattress. "Where did they get these pathetic mattresses, do you suppose?" she asked, trying hard to be brave by being busy. Clem rolled her eyes condescendingly at her mother and kept stuffing clothes into the small chest that was meant to contain her entire wardrobe except for hung items in the door-less closet.

"Daddy, Mama, look. It's not supposed to be fancy. It's a dormitory! It's a cell! Think of it as my academic exile for the next four years, while I polish my brain and exercise my power of reason!" She knew that would cause them both to glaze over and they would change the subject. It had worked through twelve years of school so far.

"Ed, stack those extra blankets on the top shelf for Clem," Rose said, on cue.

What if...we got serious about Bible study?

2010-01-08T14:04:00.000-08:00

I heard young Ryan Dobson (son of James Dobson) on the radio today speaking to an assembled group of apologists with the polish of someone twice his age. He exudes confidence and has such a compelling testimony. By the time he was done I was cheering. He loves-is enthralled- with God's truth.

Ryan described an encounter with a young idealist on the plane who confessed he didn't believe there was right or wrong; everyone's truth is...truth.

That was like setting honey in front of Winnie the Pooh. Ryan took the man's arguments apart one by one with lightening skill. By the time the plane landed, the man agreed that maybe in his heart somewhere he believed in the actuality of truth. Score one for Ryan Dobson.

Ryan went on to speak about being adopted, and shared his passion for life, grateful his birth mother opted to give him life. And I wondered.

What if? What if others felt that passion about the truth of scripture, and got serious about studying? I passionately wish young people would fall 'in love' with Bible study the way they did with Harry Potter. The Potter stories are wonderful and exciting stuff, but they pale by comparison to the incredible depth of scripture. Harry Potter lives in a fictional land and time with evildoers that are imaginary (however remarkably like some we know). The Bible is God's truth journaled by many different writers in 66 different books over a number of centuries. Its truths are as timeless as God Himself and wiser than anything we humans can imagine. Its span is the width and height of mortal history and its depth is as unmeasured as the expanding universe.

There is more mystery and intrigue in the Bible than all the Harry Potter, Twilight, Star Wars and Twilight Zone put together and multiplied by a gazillion.

Try it. Read a very small passage from, say, one of the gospels, perhaps words spoken by Jesus. The next day read it again, slowly, studying it word for word. Try this for a week and be amazed by the changing, yet timeless character of its teaching.

People like the young man who doesn't think there's right and wrong need so desperately to read the Bible. They need to focus their wonderful, compassionate minds onto the truths that have their basis in this one ignored, maligned document: scripture. I would not want to live in a world without it.

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

2010-01-04T17:01:00.000-08:00

Records are breaking all over the place! It's so cold my cat, Henry, won't go outside! We have snow left over from 2009 (Okay, it's only day 4 of 2010)
So what 's going on? Is God trying to tell Al Gore to get over global warming? Is this the beginning of the new Ice Age? Is it a strange convoluted result of global warming?
I think not any of these. It's life. Happening. As usual. There's only one way to deal with this kind of icy cold. Make sure you don't run out of gas for the fireplace, coffee, and good books to read. Layer up, snuggle up, and enjoy!
In no time, the crabgrass will be growing, the windows will need washing, the grass will need cutting, you'll be sweating as you dig those weeds out of your garden and wondering where winter got to.
People, we're a disgruntled bunch who are never satisfied. Relax. In ten months you'll be digging out Christmas decorations. Will we never learn?

A Book and Two Chats

2009-12-30T18:43:00.001-08:00

Litfuse blogger

2009-12-14T16:47:00.000-08:00

Join the blog tour for
Tricia Goyer's
Songbird Under a German Moon

follow us on twitter

Hello Bloggers!

The blog tour for Songbird Under a German Moon will be in February.

Join us in Spreading the Word about Tricia's exciting new release!

To sign-up, simply respond to this announcement or email Stephanie at (Stephanie@litfusegroup.com). Along with the blog tour will be a contest promotion for you to host on your blog. Details to follow.

If you'd like to interview Tricia, let me know when you sign up for the tour. There are a limited amount of books for this tour so sign up quickly!

To find out more about Tricia and her books, check out her website at www.triciagoyer.com!

Songbird Under a German Moon

The year is 1945. The war is over and 21-year-old Betty Lake has been invited to Europe to sing in a USO tour for American soldiers who now occupy Hitler's Germany. The first nights performance is a hit. Betty becomes enthralled with the applause, the former Nazi-held mansion they're housed in and the attention of Frank Witt, the US Army Signal Corp Photographer. Yet the next night this songbird is ready to fly the coop when Betty's dear friend, Kat, turns up missing. Betty soon realizes Franks photographs could be the key to finding Kat. Betty and Frank team up against post-war Nazi influences and the two lovebirds' hearts may find the answers...in each other.
But will they have a chance for their romance to sing? The truth will be revealed under a German moon.

Meet Tricia!

Tricia Goyer is the author of twenty books including From Dust and Ashes, My Life UnScripted, and the children's book, 10 Minutes to Showtime. She won Historical Novel of the Year in 2005 and 2006 from ACFW, and was honored with the Writer of the Year award from Mt. Hermon Writer's Conference in 2003. Tricia's book Life Interrupted was a finalist for the Gold Medallion in 2005. In addition to her novels, Tricia writes non-fiction books and magazine articles for publications like Today's Christian Woman and Focus on the Family. Tricia is a regular speaker at conventions and conferences, and has been a workshop presenter at the MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) International Conventions. She and her family make their home in the mountains of Montana.

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5minutes for books review

2009-12-08T16:06:00.000-08:00

December 5, 2009

What a Christmas!

Written by Carrie

I was asked if I'd be interested in readingWhat A Christmas! which is a Christmas story set in World War II. Um, yes please? I figured that it would be hard for me NOT to like it and my suspicions were correct.

Clementine Rose Miles is a ten year old girl who lives during World War II. Surrounded by family, who all gathered around her Grandmother's property during the Great Depression, most of the antics in this book involve life with a large, connected family. Her closest playmates are her twin boy cousins. Her sister, Linda, is 'going through a stage' (in which she is becoming a teenager). Clementine is big on drinking coffee, learning new vocabulary words, and getting in and out of trouble. Although this book was written in 2007, I was consistently surprised at how well this book was written from a historical standpoint. I don't mean to sound surprised and I'm not referencing historical events and timelines. Authoress B.R. Roberts simply "speaks" as anyone in 1944 would have spoken, which makes this story very believable. In other words, this book is not always politically correct. It isn't a ~~2009~~ 2007 story about people who lived in 1944. It's a 1944 story written in the same time period and I, personally, found this rather refreshing as it allowed me to be transported back to the appropriate time period and really engage with the characters.

Clementine's family experiences "typical" World War II concerns, including having a close relation off fighting in the war. This is a story of faith and there is a redemption aspect to it. It is a story of a family who experiences struggles, a young girl who is finding her way in a world at war and who is still very much just a "kid at heart." All the while, Robert's writing style is amusing and I found myself chuckling as I read along.

If you find yourself interested in this story, you'll be happy to note that there is a sequel called Not in My Wildest Dreams in which we find young Clementine all grown up and falling in love.

This is a fun Christmas read and if you find yourself with an opportunity to read it, I think you'll find it enjoyable.

Carrie comes by her book obsession honestly, having descended from a long line of bibliophiles. She blogs about books regularly at Reading to Know andReading My Library.

This review, and others from this week, are linked up to Semicolon's Saturday Review of Books. Link up your own review, or see what others around the blogosphere have reviewed this week.

Find out about our relationships with publishers and affiliate networks in ourfull disclosure statement.

Filed under Carrie, Christian, Fiction by Carrie

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1 Comments on What a Christmas! »

December 5, 2009

#1 - Trudy @ 8:16 pm

This sounds like a really fun book to read. I like reading books that are aimed at children. Sometimes they are very refreshing. I will make a point of looking for these books.

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Peevish Pen: General Store Book Signing

2009-12-02T18:32:00.000-08:00

Peevish Pen: General Store Book Signing

What A Christmas!

2009-11-23T17:53:00.000-08:00

Mrs. McPugh's mailbox was right alongside ours and it suddenly started sending out signals to my brain that said "open me, take this mail and hand it to Mrs. McPugh." I huffed a 'no way' in protest and turned back toward Grandma's. The mailbox was jumping up and down and huffing back at me, 'it wouldn't hurt you to show a little milk of human kindness, you know'.

Book signing at Smith Mtn Lake with Lake Writers

2009-11-23T14:29:00.000-08:00

Saturday, Nov. 21 was great. Six writers at "The General Store" offering our books to the locals drifting in and out of the wonderful gift shop filled with stuff! Candles, candies, books, art, all sorts of crafts and gift ideas; it was amazing to see the variety of wares. And the best part was the wonderful smells wafting out of the food shop where homemade candies and baked goods tempted us for three hours while we chatted, shared writing stores and marketing tips, and had fun getting to know each other. I met Becky Mushko (Ferradiddledumday) and can't wait to read the books we exchanged. Sally Roseveare (Secrets at Spawning Run) is marketing her second SML mystery, Curtis E. Nester is offering his "Faith Will Keep You Afloat" and Debra Cheehy (I Like Dogs) swapped one of her charming children's books for my "What A Christmas!" Rodney A. Franklin traded his "Tyler's Shop" (a nostalgic half century of Bedford County events). Bob VandeLinde's "Respect:Forgotten Heroes" was there. I needed a new copy signed because we defaced my daughter, Susan's copy with a coffee mug when she loaned it to us! What a wonderful compilation of war stories and memories! It is a treasure and we'll take better care of our 'repaired' copy. By the way, we sold a few books too.

Not In My Wildest Dreams

2009-11-09T13:51:00.000-08:00

Let me tell you about my book. It's a love story, a sequel to "What A Christmas!"..where we finally learn how Clementine, eleven years younger, winds up with the hired hand, Todd Earnword. We finally learn what brought him to Birch Falls and kept him there. And it's a wild ride for the two of them. It's a story of overcoming: his handicap, his personal loss, his pride. Her unwillingness to give up on having the love of her life. Laugh, cry, rejoice with all of Birch Falls! Love rules.

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September 11, 2010: Something is changing.

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William Forstchen's scary "One Second After"

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Hands across the continents

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Sally Roseveare having fun at the General Store...again

Another Book Signing

Die, adverb!

Getting outside our comfort zones

The Hired Hand

Can you spell spontaneity?

JUST WONDERING>>>

Becky Mushko reviews "What A Christmas!"...thanks, Becky.

What if...the government had built Disney World?

WeRead

Excerpt from "Not In My Wildest Dreams"

What if...we got serious about Bible study?

Baby, It's Cold Outside!

A Book and Two Chats

Litfuse blogger

5minutes for books review

December 5, 2009

What a Christmas!

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1 Comments on What a Christmas! »

#1 - Trudy @ 8:16 pm

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What A Christmas!

Book signing at Smith Mtn Lake with Lake Writers

Not In My Wildest Dreams