Lookin' BAD!! The pre-trip vlog and reason I'm ditching Canada...

  Okay, I know I look fab-yoo-liss, but, seriously, whatever. I figured I won't care how I look in Bolivia, so why not let you experience the jaw dropping shock of how white my eyelashes are?

That, and I just look downright amusing with the glare from the computer screen. Oh, and notice the hockey gear behind me? Yeah. Not my fault. The pile of laundry on the couch is my fault. I promise that by the time you see this, it'll still be there.

Take care, please, please pray for the team, the roads can get really interesting.

Really interesting.

See you all in November!!

I'm off to Bolivia in ONE WEEK!!!

In exactly one week, I'll board a flight in Fredericton, fly to Toronto, then to Panama City and then from Panama, we fly south to Bolivia.
Oh my flaming , gigantic WORD!!! I cannot express to you the excitement!! I've waited two very long years to go back to Bolivia. I have dear friends there who I miss very much.


 Let's see? Adelia Chumacera, Hector and Steffi Mamani and Tio Felipe, just to name a few.
We're in for an extreme amount of driving on this trip. We'll probably put in about 800 miles at an average of 25 miles an hour on one lane mountain roads, full of switchbacks, stunning views and zillions of llamas. 

We'll take 1200 solar powered, fixed tuned, short wave radios to the far flung Quechua villages, deep in the High Valleys of the Bolivia Andes.  We'll sleep on floors and Thermarest mattresses. We'll eat bowl after bowl of goat stew for lunch and dinner and our own oatmeal for breakfast and bedtime snack.

 We'll be stared at, hugged, kissed and watched by hundreds and hundreds of Quechua Indians who, for most of them, have never seen any foreigners, let alone a redhead!! The kids will giggle and the elderly people will stare in wonder that outsiders cared enough to come visit. 

You want to know the best way to show Christ's love? Speak to the old, old Quechua who cannot comprehend WHY you are there. Say "Buenos dias" and shake their hand. Hold a baby. Let a 12 year old girl help you do something, anything, and say "gracias amiga" over and over. Take their picture with your digital camera and watch them blush at seeing themselves.

Love is communicated by grace, kindness, respect and a radio that brings them the message of Jesus. That's what we do.

Our teams have taken in 33,000 radios and touched as many as 990,000 Quechua people with the Gospel.

I am proud of and humbled by the chance to do this job again.

Turkey and stuffing and cheesecake, oh MY!

Good morning my peeps.
Like the new picture?
<<< It's over here. I probably just pointed at the back ground photo.

*Peeps* is street for "people".
 Seriously? Did I have to explain that to someone who builds airplane parts? I did. So sad when the old people forget meaningful cultural references.
Then again, some people were amazed I could call the USA. On my phone. Read that again. I know, right? No matter how cute you are, I'll still laugh whenever I think that you were slightly surprised to know we have PHONE LINES up here that connect to the Lower 48.

Anyway, since we've outted a few reasons to razz one or two of you...it's time to grow up and say...

Happy Thanksgiving from your devoted Canadian bloggerista!! 


Things I'm thankful for today?

-my health, even though I'm sore and stiff right now.
-my husband , even though he snores. Alot. Whoa. Dude, it's a good thing I'm in love with you, because...wow. That was LOUD. 
-my kids, even though they eat us out of house and home.
-the health of my family, especially our parents. John's dad will be 96 this Christmas. NINETY SIX???
-good friends who keep me sane. Ish. Sane-ish-like.
-good friends who love me even though I'm crazy.
-a great church and an awesome pastoral team.
-a new phase in life where writing a book is no longer a dream, but a reality.
-for writer friends who've become sisters and keep me grounded and aware of the world around me, and amuse me to no end. And a writer brother or two, too! 

And in all seriousness, I am deeply, profoundly thankful for a true and pure miracle last night. The Ford Explorer carrying my friends' three sons, and the girlfriends of two of the boys, on a long drive home from a family wedding went off the highway and flipped over, landing on the roof. The roof caved in, all four windows blew out and the RCMP found all five kids hanging upside down in their seatbelts. No, none of them had been drinking. Not even a sip.

All five ended up in the ER. They were CAT-scanned and x-rayed and then all five walked out to their parent's cars and went home, safe, sound and only slightly bumped up.

The RCMP were stunned to get five, conscious, alive kids out of that truck.

Do not, for one split second, dare to tell me that miracles don't happen anymore.

I know the names of five of them. 

I CONFESS THAT I COMPLETELY POACHED THIS IDEA!!!

I poached this idea from Keli Gwyn from her lovely website over at   http://keligwyn.com



That got me to thinking, I'm leaving, sniff, in 2 weeks....


I'm not much of a Nicolas Cage fan, but John and I decided, EONS ago, that this was OUR song...



Thank you Trisha Yearwood.

The pretty part of pain.

I have a confession to make.
I had some serious, butt whupping anger come out yesterday.
Like, you are fortunate to not be ANYWHERE near me.

Something happened that hurt, and hurt tremendously.
It was the "slap in the face" kind of hurt that makes you blink and walk backwards.
A pain that caused me to question alot about myself.

I lay in bed and wondered WHY what was said was so painful. Why did I take such deep offense to something that was not intended to go in deep and twist a few times.

I realized that even now, at the age of 49, I'm still in touch with myself at 2 1/2.

Someone dear to me said something silly, innocuous and innocent. 

It WAS poorly timed and stupid, but really Jennifer, you're pushing 50, shake it off! 

Right?
Wrong.

Very wrong.

It boiled down to a little girl who was hurting. A small child whose male parent left and never came back.
And to long buried memories of a friend who lied, lied, threatened and lied and used MY name.

How the words my friend said yesterday equated what happened 47 years ago, and 27 years ago, is something that only the rabbit trails of the human mind can justify.
This meant that, that referred to this, that reminded me of that and BAM!!
Someone's gonna PAY!

A few emails were sent and finally a very heated phone conversation. Did I mention I haven't been that angry in ages?

But... I didn't want to upset this person.
But I was angry.
But nice girls don't get mad.
But I was MAD!!!!
But I wanted to really get in some kind of serious sword play or at least throw some rocks!
I was hurt, don't I have rights???
Lines in my sand box had been drawn decades ago. They had been crossed!! How could this happen??


The friend's response to me was roughly "go ahead, fire away, we both need you to fire at will". 

So, I did.
And it went well.
But only for me.


But the best part of this whole episode was NOT getting angry and ranting and sand blasting someone I love, it was the sound that comes after the fireworks. 
When the spent gunpowder and blown up bits paper fall through the air and land softly on the cool grass.

That "ahhhh" moment when everything has settled and we knew we were okay. When the tears had dried, when the echo of harshness was answered with the sound of laughter and good natured teasing.

When the ugly side of pain was turned over and I could see the beauty that had taken root and grown quickly into an even more beautiful garden.

I don't know how long I'll have with that friend, but whatever time I have left won't be wasted pulling weeds and shoving them back and saying "remember when you hurt me?".

I'll choose to hold tight to the fresh air after the rain, when God opens His hands, shines down the sun and makes a sea of diamonds. 

The fairest of them all...edit.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all?


I went to my other blog today, I don't visit much anymore, but I still try to pop in and say hello.

I used to be "friends" with someone on there who is basically blind, stinking, ridiculously over the top, loaded beyond words... RICH.

I met him through another friend, we'll call her Sarah.
Sarah died two years ago from cancer. She was 25. Her family was a royal mess, but it was big and loud and they loved her. The family was molded rather than made. Two women who were friends from their childhood years stayed together through thick and thin. One was happily married with a few kids. One flitted around the world then had a fling with a married man and left him behind after some summer fun and marriage wrecking.
She didn't know for about 6 months that she was pregnant and was completely shocked to be told she was going to be a mother. She came flying home and was grabbed into her best friend's arms and it was there that she found her place. Sarah grew up with 2 mothers, one father and 2 sets of grandparents and brothers and sisters all intertwined line a vine. No beginning, no end, just lots of love in the long, winding, loving story. 
When Sarah was in university, her "brother", (the un-related kids in the clan referred to each other as siblings their entire lives) died of cancer, and it devastated her whole, huge clan.
Then the unthinkable happened.
Sarah was diagnosed with cancer. It was all over the place. They nuked her and fried her and the doctors did everything possible to save her. She went through that TWICE.
Then was given the all clear and went back to university.

Then she got chicken pox and was in the hospital for a month.
Her birth mother came to her bedside, took one look at her ONLY CHILD and said "I can't deal with this."
And left.
For 6 weeks.
She went sailing in Greece.

Poor sweet Sarah. She was diagnosed with cancer again.
I poured my heart into that girl, as did quite a few others from the blog site. Her touchable and virtual friends loved her long and hard from all across the world.

She was friends with the rich boy, who jetted all over the world, chasing cancer treatments and surgeries and receiving all kinds of cutting edge treatments that were far beyond the reach of Sarah. This young kid also faught HARD to stay alive, but he DID have an edge.
A really impressive,expensive edge.

Don't tell me that he didn't.
Don't tell me they had the same chance.
Don't tell me Sarah wasn't angry.
She was.
She told me so.
More than once.

One day, I got an email from her telling me she'd been declared cancer free, but was still in the hospital.

She was a nanny for a posh family in Europe and missed the kids very much while she was in treatment. Her doctors gave her permisson to take the kids to a movie while on an evening pass from the hospital. They went in late. She was bald and weak and they were aided by the kind theatre staff who sat them in the back row.

She felt tired after the movie and went to bed in her hospital room. That night, after sharing a fun evening with the kids, she had a massive stroke. Her heart failed the next day, and she died.

Her body was spent.
The cancer was gone, and so was her strength.
She had literally died of exhaustion.


I saw today's post from the young man.
He had some kind of surgery and since his infection was gone, he and his wife went to Europe. 
Yes, it appears he is still sick.
I KNOW that.
But his bills are taken care of by his wealthy family.

The demon of financial worry does not haunt him. It doesn't keep him from seeking treatment. The burden of selling their house to keep him alive doesn't cloud which drugs he takes for pain.

I DO NOT UNDERSTAND why my dad struggles each day with pain.
Why my biological father walked away from 3 children.
I do not understand why my friend has a chronic, painful condition that has wiped her out for months.
I do not understand why me and half my female friends are on some kind of anti-depressant.

Understand this, pay attention, listen to me...if I did not take my meds, my life would NOT be what it is now.

And yes, I sure did pray about it.

One's level of faith DOES NOT EQUATE HIS OR HER STATION IN LIFE!!!!!

Why do some people have everything and others have nothing?
Why does that kid from the blog have the resources to keep fighting and win, when others have nothing?

The thing is.
None of us deserve anything.
Neither good, not bad, none of us DESERVE one sweet thing in this world.

God GIVES us HIS grace.
He gives us His love.

Which is good.
Because I cannot afford to buy what it takes to please God. Because nothing *I* can DO can impress Him.
It is what I can accept FROM Him!
It's what HE gives ME!!!!

How cool is that?

He gives me His love, His grace and His mercy.
And He takes my life and makes it His.

I can only give it back to Him.

Steven Spielberg says hi!!!

My life in pictures. Plus free edit!!

I sent my proposal and sample chapters in yesterday.This is how it felt last night.

This is how I felt all day.

This is how I felt late this afternoon when I got two emails from two different people within 6 minutes of each other.

I called my husband at his office. I love him. He let me be me.

Then I emailed some of my peeps.

I said...

"Yo. Sup? I feel awful."

They said...

"What are we? We're..."

YEAH BABY!!!!

Another one said...

"How are you doing?"

I said I wanted a party.

It was a short one.

I love my not-legally-adopted-yet big brother.

I should inform my had-him-for-my-whole-life brother that he isn't alone anymore.

So? How do I feel now?? Now that my husband and my peeps have cheered me up?

I went back and read the emails. REALLY looked at what they said.
I let their words of wisdom sink in.
Learning is all about rolling with the hard stuff and wrestling it back into submission.
So?

That saddle is empty. It's time to get back in!!

Why?

My King is why.

*

And four words sung out to me...

"Your writing is brilliant".

How's THAT for encouragement???

Words of a martyred pastor.

This poem was read by a young missionary friend in church yesterday. It was written by a Zimbabwean pastor prior to his martyrdom.

I'm part of the fellowship of the unashamed.
 I have the Holy Spirit power. 
The die has been cast. I have stepped over the line. 
The decision has been made--I'm a disciple of His. 
I won't look back, letup, slow down, back away, or be still.
 My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure.
 I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, worldly talking, cheap giving, and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity.
 I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded.
 I now live by faith, lean in His presence, walk by patience, am uplifted by prayer, and I labor with power.


My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my roads narrow, my way rough, my companions are few, my Guide reliable, my mission clear.
 I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed.
 I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the enemy, pander at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ.
 I am a disciple of Jesus.
 I must go till He comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till He stops me. 

And, when He comes for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me...my banner will be clear!

Knock me over with a hummingbird feather!!!

Oh my word.

OH.
MY.
WORD.

OHMYWORD!!!!!!!!!!


Check this out.....

A few verses from the Book of Jennifer.

Happy Friday to you!!

I hope your week went well.

It's been up and down for me, but it's Friday!!!

I've enjoyed visiting Jenny Hale at jenniferkhale.com for her Bright Side Blog Bash. She and Lacie Nezbeth at lacienezbeth.blogspot.ca, hosted a great week for those of us writers who didn't make it to ACFW in Dallas.


Since being asked for a proposal and samples, I've begun planning my life as I think it should play out.



These are my commandments, thus sayeth me and these shall come to pass.....

First, my husband will shave his AWFUL beard.
No, it has nothing to do with writing, but I hate the beard.

Second, I'll be BEGGED for a full manuscript from all the Big Houses and a bidding war will ensue. My agent, who also begged to be near me, will call me in a lather and announce that I've set a record for debut novels and I can go ahead and plan that new bathroom reno AND hire an architect to make our house a dream home.A-N-D the skunks will move into my sister's house. Which is roughly 3000 miles from here. The skunks can go on United Airlines.

Third-my little town will re-name itself, "Jenniferland". How cool is that?

Fourth-I will magically lose 50 pounds and wake up making the Duchess of Cambridge want to be more like me.

Fifth-JK Rowling and I do lunch and talk shop.


I might add some maps too.




Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd then I wake up and realize that my hair is giving directions to the pillow and school stars in an hour!!

The glamour! The thrills! The laundry!!!!

Let's look at what the Lord says in Jeremiah 29:11, shall we?


For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."



 It seems that His plans offer us hope and a future. His hope. His future. His idea of prosperity. But it doesn't mention wealth, does it? For some of the people I love, life itself is enough.

It sure is nice to know He has it all figured out.

BIG NEWS!!!!!

Because of a comment on a blog, I've been asked to send a proposal and sample chapters to an acquisitions editor at a small publishing house...

Breathe.
Just.
Breathe.

And THEN scream!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dust Bunnies!

In 2009, I went on my second trip to Bolivia. Most of the team was from my church. 

Now, most teenage girls like to have an older female friend, who isn't their mother, to talk with, confide in, pal around with and generally be friends with, without the mother /daughter vibe going on.

Two girls in my church seem to think I'm cool. Probably only two, but I digress.

And the best thing, is that both of their Moms are very good friends of mine, so they trust me with their daughters.

At the time this photo was taken, my own daughter was deep, deep, DEEP in rebellion towards my husband and I.

As my daughter was fading away, these two came alongside me and loved me down a lonely road. 


That was three years ago. The one in the middle, Shannon, is off to college. I miss her alot! The one on the end, Melissa, just got back from a mission trip to Israel and Slovakia. She's also been to Nepal and Bolivia. Shannon has been to Bolivia and Haiti. They've done more mission work than 90% of the adults I know!!

Prior to this photo being taken, we drove from a town deep in the mountains and the ride down took several hours and one guy stopped counting switchbacks at 72. Or maybe there was 72, anyway, it was LONG and twisty!

The dust there is like brown icing sugar. We were utterly filthy!!



I called us the Dust Bunnies.

I sat alone in church this morning, which was perfectly fine, not a problem at all. But after a few minutes, I saw a very clean version of Melissa sit down next to me. She was all smiles and happy to see me. I was quite happy to see her too.


I love these girls like they were my own.

Te amo Bolivia!!!

Our director Alex Muir, his son Greg Muir who is a missionary with the Quechua Indians, and a lovely Quechua lady we met. Greg is about 5'9.

Waiting in a small village for their radio. It was about 100F. There were about 300 people who came.

My dear brother Hector Mamani Albino. One of the finest people I've ever known. EVER. He has the heart of a lion. And he never stops smiling.

Brenda Swann Phinney. She knit all of these sweaters. You see the love? I was there. Those kids were stunned beyond words that a gringa gave them such treasures.

This dear man stayed for the entire time we were there, in the village of Tusquina. On crutches. In serious heat. Just because we were there. 

Woody Scott, from New England.

Those boys stood around until Woody smiled and asked for their help. He's a trained, professional Grandfather. That one touch on that boy's shoulder, that "well done" sent him to the moon. I'm not sure if he came back.

  

A goat trail from Mojon Khasa to the road. It went 1000 feet UP. At 15,000 feet, the oxygen level in the air was 40% less than we were used to. It was a lung burning, brain frying, leg killing hike. My heart was POUNDING. Then we saw a Quechua man carry our generator up the trail on his back.

How we travel in-country.

And why prayer is EXTREMELY important!!

Like, REALLY important!!

Just love them. That's all. Oh, and jump rope at 15,5000 feet and not die.

This is Willian. Yes, with an N. He has cerebral palsy. Ian's brother is autistic. Ian LOVED that little boy and that showed the entire village that we meant what we said.

But if you think Ian loved him? Kelsey literally cried for DAYS when we said good bye to him.

Te amo Boliva.

I'll see you in FIVE WEEKS!!!!

This is the day...

That the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

Yes, I know what today is. I know the events that made a sea change in American history toward a more frightening place.

I've heard some people talking about the End Times and earthquakes and famine and on and on. Any day now, Jesus will come back.

Or will He?

End times? Wars without end?

The thing is, why not go back to 1930's Germany. All was quiet and then a new Chancellor came to power and before they knew it, by 1945, 6 million Jews were dead. Thousands upon thousands of people tried to hide their Jewish friends. Some succeeded, some died alongside them. Gypsies were killed. Poles were killed. Communists were killed.
Children and adults with Down's Syndrome were killed.
Deaf people were killed.
Blind people were killed.
Anyone who wasn't perfect, was killed.
Betsie ten Boom was killed.
Deitrich Bonhoeffer was killed.

Stalin's record was even worse. He killed at least 20 million of his own people. Gulags. Pogroms. Death upon miserable death.

Wars without end?

Uganda
Rwanda.
Somalia.
Chechnya.
Bosnia.
Northern Ireland.
El Salvador.
Guatemala.
Argentina.
East Timor.
Laos.
Viet Nam.
Cambodia.
North Korea.
Iraq.
Afghanistan.


Seeing a pattern?

God sees the pattern.

It looks like this.

Lord I come
Lord I thank you
For your love
For this grace divine
Love and mercy
Undeserving
You gave it all
The greatest sacrifice

You were wounded
For my sin
And You were bruised
For all my shame
You were broken
For my healing
Only by the cross
I'm saved

You're the mender of the broken
To every outcast
A friend and comforter

I come boldly to your presence
Lord I bow before your throne
You're my healer
My redeemer
You're my hope, my life, my all

You hear the cry of the broken
You hear the cry of the broken
You hear the cry of the broken


You answer the cry of the broken
You answer the cry of the broken
You answer the cry of the broken

I do not pretend to have any answers for anyone.
I just know Jesus has them.
He may not tell you the answers you want or need, but He's got everything else covered. Including YOU.

Just for Heather Gilbert!!

Tip of the day?

Turn ON the lights when shooting a video.
Then you won't look like you just ate 5 pounds of blueberries.

And brush your hair.
And teeth.
And back up.

The WHAT??

You know, some days you come across a person and you think "Wouldn't she be a great friend? She just looks...nice. And the nose ring kinda tells me she avoids polyester blazers and beige pumps."

Now that we live in a cut/copy/paste/download/instant society, meeting new people is ridiculously easy.
But that connection still is old school. The "do you like me? I like you. Wanna be friends?" voice we heard when we were 8 still sings in our heads.

When I started serioulsy spending time finding bloggers that spoke to me... who could say "you spelled seriously wrong" without offending me...I came across an interesting name.

Becky Doughty.
Hmmmm.
She sounds like a person...with a name.

So I lurked on her blog.
I'd follow her comments.
I hired a detective to case out her house...okay, not really.

Over time, we became friends on Facebook and then moved into a more serious level.
We exchanged....emails!
I know, right?!?!?

Soon the emails began to fly and each time I'd read her blog, I thought, when I grow up, I want to be just like Becky.
Okay, not quite, but I learned alot. I mean I LEARNED from her blog, from her wisdom, but mostly?

I learned from her transparent heart for Christ. The hunger that comes from tasting pure joy and wanting more.

Imagine my total newbie blogger/writer SHOCK when she nominated ME(???) for The Beautiful Blogger Award.
What a shock and awe moment!!!

Thank you, my dear friend, who I ALMOST met this past summer.

What an honour and blessing this was for me.

You can meet her at www.beckydoughty.com.


God will make a way Becky, someday we will meet. Maybe at ACFW next year?

So....here’s how this award works: Someone nominates me, I do the task required to receive the award, then I pass it on by nominating other bloggers. For the Beautiful Blogger Award, I am to tell you seven interesting things about me.



1- I love and adore Earl Grey Tea.
I want to marry it and settle down somewhere.
It is BEST with light cream and a family sized platter of milk chocolate chip cookies.
What? Like you've never eaten 8 at a sitting?

2-I have wandered down paths laden with fire ants and moisture loaded palm fronds in the Amazon Jungle.
I have seen tree pythons getting out the cultery and calling the kids for dinner at the sight of stupid humans standing near trees. I'd be FINE if I never ever went back to the jungle.
Two words: "heat" and "rash".
But the best part???

I swam in the Amazon River.
Uh huh.
Me.

THE AMAZON!!!!


3-I have seen "Last of the Mohicans" approximately 50 times. Each and every time I see it, I wish Magua would get some anger management and let those nice Monroe sisters go home. I love the soundtrack and play the music to the point I could sing it!!
There is no such thing as ugly when a man is in a posh uniform. Or leather. Or a good tan...well, is it warm in here or what?!

4- I am absolutely TERRIFIED OF HYDRO DAMS!!!!!!!!!!

5-I can't do a somersault. I spent my entire childhood thinking they'd break my neck. I still freak out when I see kids doing them.

6-I always wanted to play the violin. And the guitar. I play air guitar really well. No one will ever see that.

7-There are four separate problems in my feet. Plantar fashee-eye-tus. Athritis. EXTREMELY severe nerve damage. Flat feety-itus.
Oh, and the back has nerve damage.
I live in pain.
But it could be worse.
A whole lot worse.

God has given me a huge amount of relief from the pain, and I am grateful.




So?
Who do I nominate???
Two other women who have taught me alot, encouraged me and gone above and beyond the call of fellow bloggeryness and answered my questions when I needed help. We've become friends and I bet the Christmas packages I get from them will be HUGE!!!
Okay, not really....

I hope you check their blogs out.

Here they are in reverse alphabetical order....

Lindsay Harrel.
You can meet Lindsay at www.lindsayharrel.blogspot.com

I got to meet Lindsay at a secret location (Starbucks) in Phoenix, Arizona this past July.
If you think she's smart, witty and has the voice of an angel on her blog, you are right!!
Oh, and she's taller than I thought she'd be.

This writing gig is such a roller coaster. I asked Lindsay so many newbie questions, and each time, she answered and encouraged me. What a kind and giving heart!!
And SMART! Whoa, I think someday I'll be one of those people who puls a Lindsay Harrel book off the shelf and holds it up in the air and yells "I know her!!!"

Here's the "about me" on her blog...

I'm an author/editor from Phoenix who writes inspirational women's fiction. My desire is to honor God in all I do and to help draw others closer to Him by planting seeds of hope in their hearts. "I planted the seed...but God made it grow." (1 Corinthians 3:6)

Since the age of six, when she wrote the riveting tale “How to Eat Mud Pie,” Lindsay Harrel has passionately engaged the written word as a reader, writer, and editor. She holds a B.A. in Journalism and Mass Communication and an M.A. in English. She has written and published feature stories for two college newspapers, advertising copy for several websites, and health- and beauty-related articles for consumers. In her current day job as a curriculum editor for a local university, Lindsay helps others improve their work and hones her skills for her night job—writing inspirational women’s fiction with romantic elements.

A member of American Christian Fiction Writers and My Book Therapy, Lindsay posts regularly at her blog and has been published on the Power to Change website, in the online CronkiteZine, and in The Arizona Republic. Her creative essay “Snapshots of My Mother” will be published in Donna Goodrich’s mother/grandmother anthology this summer.


I also want to nominate Heather Day Gilbert.
You can meet "HDG" at www.heatherdaygilbert.blogspot.com

Aside from looking, you know, 15, Heather is a mom and wife who knows how to cook dinner outside during a massive power outage. A heart as big as the sky and a smile that's even bigger. Heather was one of the very first bloggers I fell in like with.
Early on in our friendship, Heather would help and encourage and gently tell me where I needed to up my game. Her faith shows in everything she does and I'm SO glad to know her.

Here's her "about me"...
 I'm a West Virginia-born gal who married the sweetest Yankee in the world. I'm a Christian, and I write stories of authentic love after marriage. I homeschool my children. And I love big dogs, MacGyver, coffee, tulips, and wasting time on video games.

I started this blog to share some of my first completed novel, Otherworld, with readers. The first thirteen chapters are up on this blogspot. It was paranormal fiction and I loved it, but it was too short. I'd completed it in a month for a NaNo challenge. Someday that book will find its way to print (even if I have to self-pub!), or I have people who are going to hunt me down and beat the ending out of me!

My second novel, God's Daughter, is indeed the proper length at 80,000 words. It's historical fiction, based on the Icelandic sagas, and it's about one of my favorite Viking heroines, Gudrid. She should be in every history book!   



Each thing I said about one of theses two women can easily be said about the other.
Grace, kindness, faith, strength and the desire to be the best that God intended them to be.

We were never meant to walk alone, and I'm honoured and humbled to share the writer's road with Heather and Lindsay. Go say hello to them, and wave when you get there.  

I get by with a little help from my friends....

Stay in the game.

I am not having the best day.

Not.
At.
All.

But? Isn't Jennifer usually in a good mood?

Yes. And the sky is usually blue, but kids, clouds do roll. And so does thunder.

I told my husband of my mood. Then he started grinning like a gameshow host.

He grinned as big and fakey perfect as he could and said "See, I'm SMILING!"

I might keep him around, he knows when to make me smile. And he let me tell him exactly what was wrong. He understands. He gets it. He understands me. Which is awesome, especially when I want to hide in a corner.


Then I emailed a friend and vented. Again.
Hey, who doesn't want a chorus of "You are awesome" when you feel like the most un-awesomely, ickky blob around?

You know what I mean, right? There are those friends that you KNOW will listen and let you vent and get all "you tell 'em!!" and then do what needs to be done.

My friend also gave me the advice that I needed and the understanding that I wanted. Then he said something that was so simple, but knocked me sideways. Four words that slayed me. BAM! Just like that.

He said ...

"Stay in the game."

He didn't go on and on about life and God wants you to be happy and look at all your blessings and you should be thankful and blahblahblah.

He knew that a simple statement was all I needed. God gives us words from people we know and love, and this was four of  them.



STAY IN THE GAME.

Thank you, my friend.

And back at you.

25 things about me, plus a bonus.

I'm borrowing this idea from Lindsay Harrel and Melissa Tagg...

But I'm tweaking it a little. I'm going to use the whole alphabet!


A-Atlantic Ocean-I live an hour from the ocean, but hardly ever go there. Stuuuupid!

B-Boys- we have THREE!!! 18, 14 and 9.

C-I am CANADIAN!!! Can you tell I'm proud of my country?

D-Dog, we have one, his name is Tippy.

E- Endurance, I need some.

F-Fish, we have ...some. How do you count fish?

G-God, is my rock and refuge, my everything.

H-Help, I beg for it and I appreciate those who give me the help I need!

I-Indians- My book has Navajo Indian culture all through it.

J-My name is Jennifer! I'm married to John.

K-Katie, our daughter, age 21.

L-Lakes. Ew. Don't like them. Mushy bottoms.

M-Major, what an awesome family name. We have our own adjective!

N-Normal. I ain't.

O-Opera, someday I want to sing the Revenge Aria. And NOT blow it.

P-Popular-see normal.

Q-Quesadillas. LOVE them!!

R-Rock star. When no one is looking, my husband pretends to be one.

S-Seriously pursuing a writing career.

T-tour, as in road tour. Just did one, it was TERRIFIC!!!

U-Unbelievable all the friends I have made since I jumped on the runaway horse of writing.

V-Victory, in Jesus and in this world of writing, someday.

W-Wild hearts can't be broken. Great movie. How I see life.

X-X-ray, John had one at the dentist last week.

Y-Youth. I wish my joints felt like they had some!

And our bonus letter???

Z-My maiden name, "Zarifeh", it's an Arab name. My mom married Saad Zarifeh when I was 12, he is AWESOME!!

Who do I admire?

I have an actual paying job as a writer for our local paper. I'm in a team of op-ed types and three of us are given a question and our responses are put in the paper. It's called "Community Triple Take" and it's been a great source of writer's ed for the last 4 years. I get alot of positive feedback from friends at church and the kid's schools. Every once in a while, I get a some not so great feedback, but we can't all be Joan Didion or Ann Landers, can we?

This week's column is on "who I admire the most".
Here is my response.


She was born in 1942 in Alberta , the eldest of three children to not the best parents on the planet. She had problems with her knees and spent months with plaster casts on each leg. In her teens she contracted scarlet fever and over time, lost ninety percent of her hearing. Her mother, remember, not the best example of a parent, accused her of faking her hearing loss for attention. I don’t know about you, but if I was going to fake something for attention, it would be a mild stomach ailment. She married at the tender age of eighteen and was a mother by the time she was nineteen. Another child followed two years later, and while her third was on its way, her young husband felt the need to be free of his responsibilities. At the age of twenty two, she was a mother of three little ones and newly divorced. She returned to Mr and Mrs Lousy Parents because where else could she go? After going away to the big city to get trained for a job that would allow her to support her children, she brought them to live fulltime with her. She worked very hard and had very little of the fun that twenty-somethings like to have. Day to day life was her children, her job and her faith. A decade after her world came crashing in, she married a fabulous, exotic, dashing man. She went from a housing project to a house with a yard, a cherry tree and the peace that comes with having someone love her enough to leave cultural conventions behind and marry her despite a few disapproving nods. The burden of providing for her children lessened, but so did the strength of her hearing. She was one of the first people in her region to have a dog specifically trained to help the deaf, and he was a treasure! He was as smart as a whip and did his job very well, unless there was a cat out on the lawn, then he struggled a bit. As all good things do, his time with her came to an end and he was missed greatly. After being tested and tested again, she received a cochlear implant. After decades of hearing very little, she was “switched on” and instantly had 100% hearing! Now she can listen to her favourite music and speak to her grandchildren on the phone. She’s travelled all over the world and is planning a very special trip next spring with her daughter. When trials came her way, she kept going. Her faith never wavered. She is an amazing woman to so many people, but to me, she is “Mom”.









 

The arrival of fear... Oh, and soccer!

How is this for scary? Our heroine has fallen asleep , but her nightmares are only seconds away. This is how I wrote the arrival of fear. Tell me what you think.

With silent, merciless cunning, its hackles came alive and its appetite was whetted. Hungry for the sounds of terror on which it fed, it reached tentacles up and felt the air for signs of life. It climbed out of its hiding place in the trunk and slithered toward where she lay, peaceful and undefended. It had her alone and was ready to feast on her deepening weakness and disappointment. The vile darkness unleashed its jagged claws and crawled up behind her. Blood stained teeth dripped with an insatiable hunger for triumph as foul breath whispered dread down her neck. Slowly, as her mind bid farewell to lamplight and safety,  evil wormed deep inside her hidden places. Within seconds, darkness claimed victory and Sarah was dragged back into Hell. 


We're off to Provincials today, it should be fun and nail biting at the same time. #3 is his team's keeper and frankly, he's pretty darn good! It's a chance to sit outside, out of the mole/writing room, and enjoy the sunshine. Chat with friends and maybe even pay attention to the game. Tomorrow the games are WAY more important, so I'll leave the stress home today, and bring the jumper cables, for my nerves, tomorrow.

Question....what sports could you watch 24/7 and which bore you to tears?

Query hook sentence, opinions???

Thanks to the fab-yoo-luss Heather Sanseri for the help and prodding to get this going.

What dost thou think of the following hook sentence?

 Sarah Monroe is rescued from years of unjust imprisonment, but can she survive the difficult simplicity of living in freedom or let her long hidden secrets destroy both her and the man who's given her one last chance at love?

 

What my Mom is giving me for my 50th birthday next year.

Now, I have NEVER had a fancy vacation. Ever. No schmancy hotels, no spa treatments. I either am away on a missions trip with ONE day of the finer things.  Or on vaycay with the kids at Deaf Camp. Or staying with friends....

This?

This is "Happy Birthday Jennifer"
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Home at last!!!

We're HOME!!

I enjoyed (ish) our vacation. But let's remember, I was away for 2 weeks before I came home and went away for 11 days.

I am TIRED.
Very TIRED.
Super ultra TIRED!!!!!!

I was so very happy to crawl into my bed on Satuday night and only felt minor twinges of guilt for sleeping throough church on Sunday morning.
The nice thing is I'm married to a guy who understands the need to fall splat on the floor and unpack days after we get home. He was all hyper about cleaning the van yesterday, but ewww, who wouldn't be? After 2 weeks with 3 boys and travelling 18 hours, over two days, each way??

The cottage was acceptable, and the roof held back the rain.

But...home IS better.

 I love that my tea can be served in mugs that I like (tall and hold alot of tea) and my toaster toats both sides at once.
I can soak in my tub and not worry about getting an as yet un-named tropical disease.
Each burner on the stove works.
There are no weird flying things attacking me.
The neighbour's dog doesn't bark at 5 am. Every. Stinking. Day.
I can do my laundry.
I can do the boys' laundry.
No one is serving moose and venison steaks.
My bed is not made of rusty bed springs and a WW2 vintage mattress. Okay, I lied. The Korean War.
And the bestest best thing about being home????

It's...home.


What is YOUR best thing about home?