There’s More: a new series


I’m embarking on a new adventure. God willing, I’ll never be the same.

And you’re invited. Theres-More-A-journey-to

What is it? Well, the good news is this adventure doesn’t involve death-defying acts or a big budget. The bad news is I have no idea how this is going to work. But that’s what makes it an adventure, right?

Here’s a little glimpse into this new series: Continue reading

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The Jonah Within


Image courtesy of Richard Hedrick at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

There are few Bible personalities I really connect with. You know: Ruth was so good, and Esther was fearless and beautiful, and Mary was amazing. Paul is hard for me to get my head around, and the disciples, well, they were interesting and funny, but relatable? Well, maybe not so much.

But start talking about Jonah, and I’m right there with you. Somewhere amidst that moody, intense, prophet nature, I sense a personality at war with itself. He knew what was right, but he also knew himself. Maybe even doubted himself. And feared failure. And likely even feared success. Continue reading

When God’s Dreams are Yours


Image courtesy of Kenneth Cratty at FreeDigitalPhotos.netIt was the sort of question I hated. I took a sip of my latte as I formulated an answer. What would I like to be doing two years from now? Hmm.

The person across the table asking the question meant well. Perhaps the opportunity she wanted to lay out would be something I’d like to jump on board with. She waited patiently as I chewed my lip, unsure how to make what was in my heart sound logical—or at least more than a wild fancy.

I mean, I’m just a dreamer. Deep down, in those ten seconds as I tried to imagine not what I thought I would be but what I could be if I had my druthers, I knew I would always be a writer—was one regardless. But I also saw another dream I hadn’t discovered until earlier that year. Continue reading

What No One Else Can Hear


ID-10011893Why do we associate silence with loneliness? Perhaps we mistake the blessing of solitude for the curse of loneliness.

Crazy as it may sound, I’ve learned that both solitude and loneliness can be good.

In the silence of being alone, the emptiness echoes a truth we don’t hear when we have people to turn to and the static of busyness to overpower the noise inside.

It’s the truth that our souls are utterly alone before God. Continue reading

The Power of the Impossible


What a crazy few months it’s been! Thought with this month’s post I’d give a bit of an update.

I recently got back home from my working traveling adventure. Three months, fourteen states, and 12,000 miles later, I’m energized and ready to dive into another writing project. My next manuscript, In Lieu of a Plot, will be a full-fledged rewrite/ironing out of last year’s NaNoWriMo project. This story just won’t let me go, so I’m going to pounce on it and put it to page–officially, this time. (Meaning, other people’s eyes will be allowed to see it. Eventually.)

So, even though ILOAP is what I call a humorous historical, I’m presently researching funeral customs in all its morbid details and am learning interesting things along the way. For example, did you know that the word “parlor,” referring to a home’s sitting room, went Continue reading

When the Lost is Found


20150130_155713As she took a final look, she concluded the earring was nowhere in her luggage. She sighed, looking out the window at the first snowfall of December. It had been her favorite pair. She’d worn those earrings everywhere, often forgetting to take them out at night.

Her eyes stung suddenly, though not from the harsh glare. It was silly. Why was she so upset over something so small?

Continue reading

New Beginnings


ID-100254453It’s spring. Finally. Branches bear the tint of new life. The robins are in full force. Easter has been, bringing with it the reminder of that one Life that has made everything new.

It was such a long winter. More than once during those bitter months I wondered if the season would ever end. In many ways, winter personifies the writer’s struggle. Isolating. Bleak. Endless. No fruit, only icy gusts of rejection—or worse: silence.

As harsh as winters can be, without dormancy, there would be no spring. Writers’ winters may in some ways drain our tired souls when we feel there’s nothing left to tap, but at the Continue reading