Devotion: Not Just Another Love Story

by Sherma Webbe Clarke | @sdwc8181 

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV) 

I received three red dresses this past Christmas in a variety of shades and styles. Is red my favorite color? No. Did I thank the giver sincerely each time I opened a box and pulled out another red dress? Yes. Will I try to wear each dress in appreciation of his gifts? Yes.

Starting on Valentine’s Day.

After all of the red that surrounds the Christmas season, I need a break. Time to settle back into my usual colors and clothes. But as Valentine’s Day approaches, I begin to think about red again. And love. I open my Bible and mine for stories of love.

1. John 3:16 

One of the first verses I learned as a child was John 3:16: For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life. This verse acts as a synopsis of what I know about God, from creation to end-time events. This verse contains hope, a promise, and a future. The plan of salvation is the ultimate gift to a fallen race of people from a loving Father. During a visit to Jerusalem, I walked in the footsteps of Jesus when he cloaked himself in humanity. What caused the Lamb of God to leave the throne room of heaven to live a life of poverty in a sin-sick world? Love.

2. 1 Corinthians 13 

When I was a young adult (oh, so long ago!), it was almost expected to include a reading of 1 Corinthians 13 at weddings. The Love Chapter. The happy couple would look into each other’s eyes as the characteristics of love were declared. My husband once gave me a small pamphlet that contained this passage of scripture in an abundance of versions. Each version held a different tone, from Old English language to colloquial, but the message remained the same. Love never fails. Now as an older adult, I understand that the theme of this chapter transcends romantic or marital love. The love of God should flow through us and drench every area of our lives. In our ministry positions, demonstrate a loving spirit. At the workplace, be kind. When faced with an obstacle, exercise wisdom. God’s love is the answer to the complexities and is the source of joys in our lives.

3. Luke 15:3-32 

Jesus, the Master Storyteller, talked about God’s love in short stories called parables. The Bible says ‘parable’; these days we might say ‘flash fiction’. Of the three parables in Luke 15, the relationship between the wandering son and hopeful father is the most poignant to me. The imagery in this story is compelling and vivid. I imagine a stubborn boy walking away from his heartbroken father. I picture the split screen of an empty, self-indulgent lifestyle versus the stability of home. And when the repentant young man finally returns home, he experiences quick forgiveness and is restored to his former position. Our patient, long-suffering Father waits for us to come to our senses and turn or return to Him. And when we do, He wraps us in His righteousness and calls us His own.

4. Psalm 23 

Because the word love does not appear in the twenty-third Psalm, the chapter is an effective example of showing, not telling. David set his words to music and many of us have the lyrics committed to memory. He depicts God as a shepherd, a leader, a comforter, a protector, and a provider.

While occasions like Valentine’s Day put the focus on temporary gifts such as flowers, chocolates, and romantic dinners, the love language of the Bible appeals to us on a deeper level. Not just for a day or a season, but eternity.

About Sherma . . . 

Sherma Webbe Clarke is a contemporary fiction writer and a 2017 ACFW First Impressions Finalist. Her inspirational writing has been included in Christian devotional books: Grace Notes and Blessed. She loves to take her husband by the hand to explore nearby and far-flung areas of the globe. This wanderlust has its perks. She credits many of her story ideas to these adventures. Quiet, early-morning walks along the railroad trails on her home island of Bermuda provide inspiration when she is homebound.

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God, Obedience and Chocolate

Lorraine Hossington | @lorrainehossing

When God asks us to be obedient it’s not always the easiest thing for us to do. Even when he asks us to do something small it can be a bit of a challenge.

A few years ago I went into a store and bought myself two small bags of chocolates. When I came outside I saw a homeless lady sitting and begging for money. So, bought her a coffee and some sandwiches and had a chat with her. As I walked across the street into another shop a small voice whispered in my Spirit and it said. Go and give the lady a bag of chocolates.

Now the problem was that I had plans for those chocolates, such as when they were going to be eaten over the weekend and what movie to watch whilst eating them. Instead of obeying straight away and doing as the Spirit told me, I hesitated and kept walking up and down in this shop trying to fight what I was being asked to do. At one point the security guard was looking at me very suspiciously! Finally I gave in and went and gave the chocolates to the lady. Immediately I felt at peace. This is a small example of obedience, sometimes we are asked to much bigger things.

Hannah’s obedience

1 Samuel:1 10-11 (NIV)
In bitterness of soul Hannah wept much and prayed to the Lord. And made a vow, saying “O Lord Almighty, if you will look upon your servant’s misery and remember me, and not forget your servant but give her a son, then I will give him to the Lord all the days of his life, and no razor will ever be used on his head”
This is a powerful prayer and God remembered Hannah, and she became pregnant. Can you imagine how happy she must have been to hold her son in her arms? The joy of finally being a mother after being barren for so long. Yet she knew that when Samuel had been weaned he would be given back to God.

1 Samuel 1:27-28(NIV)
“I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.” And he worshiped the Lord there.
Hannah kept her word to God and being obedient gave Samuel to the Lord. God blessed her by giving her three sons and two daughters.

God had a plan and through a woman willing to consecrate her first born to the Lord it would come to completion. Samuel would become a prophet and through him God would speak to his people. Then eventually David would be anointed as king, a shepherd boy who would defeat Goliath with a sling and a stone. Who would go on to write the psalms and become known as “as a man after God’s own heart.”

And by being obedient God can use us if we are willing to allow him to work through us. We might not see the results of our obedience straight away, and sometimes it can be difficult to say yes to what he wants us to do. Yet each time we say YES to what the Lord wants we are allowing him to work out the plan he has in mind for our lives.

All of this happened because a woman prayed for a child and in obedience gave him over to God for the whole of his life.

Lorraine Hossington lives in the Gower Peninsular in Wales. She writes contemporary Christian Fiction. And loves nature and being able to see the wild ponies and sheep on the hills in the area she lives in. As she used to live in the city, but loves where God has put her in the country.
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DEVOTIONAL: Some Things Never Change

By Leila Halawe | @LHalawe

Life is constantly changing. Every day something changes; the news, the Prime Minister (is Scott Morrison still leading Australia??), people, the weather. All around us, nature is changing and day by day we see subtle changes reminding us that a new season is coming whether we like it or not. Every day, people are dying, and babies are being born. Life is a constant cycle of change and it’s going to happen with or without our participation.

Our lives can be very much like that, too. I’m sure if we all looked back on the year so far, we can identity a few, if not a lot of things that have changed. I can tell you that a lot has changed for me this last year. Some good, some bad. I’ve made some new friends, I had a friend pass away, I’ve completed some study while also moving tackling my Masters. I’ve had some health issues and watched friends have health issues. I have seen prayers answered and have desperately cried new prayers. It’s just life.

But one thing that never changes is God. Ever.

Numbers 23:19 tells us,

 'God is not human, that he should lie, not a human being, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfil?' 

I don’t know about you, but this is one of the most comforting scriptures in the bible for me. It is a clear promise that God hasn’t changed, isn’t changing and will never change. And this is great news for us because it means that what He promised, He will fulfil.

When He promises that He will never leave us nor forsake us (Deuteronomy 31:6), He won’t leave us or forsake us. 

When He promises that He will walk through the darkest valley with us (Psalm 23:4), He will remain by our side. 

When He promises that He forgives our sins and they are forgotten (psalm 103:12), He will forgive and not hold our sins against us. 

When God tells us not to fear because He has redeemed us and knows us by name (Isaiah 433:1), He will call us by name and redeem us. 


God is not a human that He would change His mind and so when read one of His promises or declarations for us, we can be confident that He is unchanging and faithful to fulfil not just what He has promised, but far more than we can ever imagine or deserve. And that is so very comforting.

This post was cross posted at ACW

Leila (Lays) Halawe is a Sydney based coffee loving nonfiction writer and blogger. She has published a short devotional, Love By Devotion, and shares her views on life and faith via her blog page Looking In . You can connect with her via Facebook at Leila Halawe Author  and via Twitter at Leila Halawe.

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A simple cry for help

 Paul Baines| @ICFWriters

Thinking of something to write for this blog has been the toughest thing I have had to do all week, and it's been one of those weeks.

I am still drawing a blank, so I will do what I always do when I don't know what to write: start writing.

To be honest, I haven't written much in over a year now. When my wife fell ill my life went into a strange twilight zone in which everything I knew and believed was turned upside down.

For most of my Christian life I have followed the "prayer warrior" mentality. This was my wife's influence. When she started taking her faith seriously just before we got married she attended the Durban Christian Centre with Fred Roberts and Kim Clement, where they taught the principles of spiritual warfare.

While sorting through my wife's possessions recently I found her stack of prayer journals. It is all prayer warrior stuff: pleading the blood of Jesus, binding the enemy, bringing down spiritual strongholds.

As a couple, our prayers were always very directed. A problem arose and we would pray for a distinct solution. A need came up and we would pray to receve whatever it was we lacked. It was all very specific.

So when my wife was taken into hospital and we were told there was no hope, you would imagine my prayers were as directed as usual. Actually, the opposite happened. I simply handed it all to God. If I prayed anything it was "Lord, you take control" or simply "help."

I let go.

A lot happened at once in those final weeks. I handed in notice at my work, gave notice on the house, and faced the daunting prospect of getting my seriously ill wife from mainland Europe to the UK. I did not even know if we were fully covered by our health insurance. For all I knew, I was facing a huge hospital bill. I was now unemployed, had very little in the bank, and had no idea how I was going to move my wife back home along with a house full of stuff collected over 16 years.

It was too much for the "prayer warrior" approach. All I could do was hand it over, and trust.

Sure I got busy praying for healing, but that was something I could aim at. The rest was too big. Before I handed it all over, I felt like I was drowning. After I gave it to God, I had a strange, almost fatalistic, peace. Nothing mattered. Nothing I could do would change anything. God was in charge. His will be done.

Looking back, I can see miracle after miracle as every single problem was solved. It was like having the best personal assistant in the world.

A support worker at the hospital spent hours on the telephone with the insurance company until they assured him that they would not only cover all hospital bills but would ship my wife to a hospice of our choosing in the UK by air ambulance. The house rental agency agreed to a one month notice period (it had been a year when we moved in). The landlord said that we could take our time with the move and even helped me with the packing. My work situation changed for the better.

It was a big lesson for me as a Christian. These days I still have a few specific prayers but, for the most part, it is a more general plea for help. God knows what is wrong, what needs doing, and how to do it.

After all, we are His children. When our own kids get into a mess, they don't ask us for specifics. They don't say "Mum/Dad, I spilled ink all over the carpet. Please call the cleaning company and find their best price for removing the stain using the perfect equipment."

No, they simply say "Mum/Dad I dropped the ink. Please help."

Maybe kids are onto something there.

Time marches on

Paul Baines | @ICFWriters

Time is a curious thing. It exists. We can measure it and we are aware of its presence. Yet we cannot touch it. We cannot hold it in our hands or store it in jars. It may appear to travel at different speeds and, according to the theory of Relativity, it actually does, but we cannot stop its relentless march onward.

It is now well into 2018. I remember in 1978 as a ten-year-old reading about the year 2000 and being astonished. I tried to imagine so far into the future. I tried to picture being so incredibly old.

Someone once said that we do not conceptualize about space and time. Rather we conceptualize within space and time. Trying to imagine no space or no time is impossible for us because we were designed to exist within it. So you could say that we are prisoners of time. There is no escaping it. The clock is always ticking. In 1978 I could not imagine living to 2000, and yet it came and went just as 2017 did.

As a sci-fi writer I enjoy playing with time. While I believe time-travel is impossible, it can be used to great effect to tell stories. Who of us hasn't wished we could turn back the clock and do things differently? This past year has been a painful reminder for me that things done cannot be undone. If time-travel were possible I would be the first to sign up, even if it was just for a few seconds so that I could tell my wife that I love her one last time.

As a Christian, I often wonder about when Jesus will return. He lived and died 2000 years ago. At the time the New Testament was written, His return was seen as imminent. You can almost feel the anticipation within the pages. In the lead up to 2000, prophecies of Jesus' return sprang up like mushrooms. I remember watching Gloria Copeland discuss starting a new teaching series--if they "had time". That was in 1997 and all those prophecies were proven wrong.

Last week I heard a Christian speaker talking about Isaiah and his prophecies of the Messiah. I have always known that Isaiah foretold the coming of Jesus, but something the speaker said struck me straight between the eyes. I had heard it before but it never sank in. Isaiah's prophecies of the Messiah were made 700 years before the events actually took place.

Think about that for a moment. It would be like someone in the Middle Ages predicting events of today. Or somebody 150 years before Columbus discovered America prophecying that Donald Trump would be president of a country that would not come into being for another century and a half.

In 2 Peter 3:8 it says "With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day."

I find great comfort in this scripture because it show that, in God's calendar, 700 years is only a brief period of time and 2000 is not much longer. Jesus may return today or it may be in another 2000 years. Only God knows. All I know is, I want to be ready.

My other half

I have always thought of myself as the strong, independent type. I grew up as something of a “latchkey kid” in South Africa. For as long as I can remember I got myself to school every day. In the afternoons I came home to an empty house. You get used to your own company. After a while you even get to like it.

All that changed when I met my wife. I’ll never forget the day she walked into the gym where I worked. It was like one of those western movie scenes where some stranger walks into a saloon and the music stops. She certainly took my breath away.  The guys behind the counter immediately turned on the charm. My manager was a body builder with Mediterranean looks. I knew I didn't stand a chance against such competition. I shrugged and sighed to myself, carrying on with my work as if she wasn't there.

One day a few weeks later she came up to me and said she liked the music I used in my classes and asked if I could make her a tape. She handed me a blank cassette and quickly left. Inside was a small note with a message saying that she was crazy about me. Her name was Ronell. To me it was the most beautiful name I had ever heard.

Three years later we were married and starting a family in our new home in England. We argued in the first couple of years. Not a lot, but enough to make us both wonder if we had done the right thing. I could not help but think perhaps my independent upbringing was an issue. I loved being around Ronell, but I was also single-minded and stubborn. We agreed that we would both give it 100% and that we would build our lives on God’s solid foundation.

In 2015 we celebrated our twenty-sixth wedding anniversary. I realized that, during that time, I had changed. People often call their spouses their “other half” and it is true. After so many years you stop being an independent person. Your lives become intertwined to such an extent that you become more like a single unit. At least, that is how it felt to me. This was especially true after the kids flew the nest. I realized that every decision I made and every action I took was centred around Ronell.

I remember putting together a two-picture photo frame for our anniversary. The one on the left was from our wedding day. The one on the right was a photo we took on the ferry—our first trip without the kids. Ronell's wedding dress train seemed to flow into the second photo, forming a white path. She said that represented our future lives together. I told her I was looking forward to spending the next twenty-six years together. She said she was looking forward to falling in love with me all over again.

We never made the next anniversary.  The cancer that had been quietly spreading through Ronell's body attacked her quickly and without mercy, robbing her of her health, then her mobility, and finally her life. When she was taken to the hospital in Delft I gave notice at my job and on our house and moved in with her. They did what they could to make her comfortable but they made it clear there was no chance of a cure. She was given the use of a wheelchair and I took her for long walks around the hospital.

Ronell said she wanted to go back to England and we arranged to get her moved to the hospice near our home in Blackpool.

She passed away less than a week later. I was due to return to Holland the next day with a van to collect all our things from the house. Friends were helping out at the hospice and I gave them instruction for Ronell's day-to-day care. I would return five days later. That afternoon, as I held her hand, she took her last breath.

At that moment my world fell apart. All my strength and independence evaporated. I had imagined I would continue without her until we met again in Heaven. Now, suddenly, I felt utterly and completely lost. It was like being torn in half.

It has been almost a year since she passed away. I still feel lost but I am learning to cope. The waves of grief are further apart now but their ferocity has not subsided. Music tends to bring on the tears. Certain songs remind me of her. I have to be careful in public places where they play music.

Writing helps, which is why I bared my soul in this blog post. Thanks for listening. It is therapeutic, putting my thoughts down on paper.

This evening I returned to an empty house. I am, it seems, a “latchkey kid” once more. Curious how life can do a full circle like that.

I don't know why Ronell had to go home. I believe God had a good reason for taking her. One day I will know that reason. Until then, all I can do is pray and wait. I believe I will see her again, God willing.

It may be a cliché but I really am lost without her. She truly was my other half.

Embrace the Adventure!

Hello friends,

Today's devotion is a little different. Embrace whatever adventure comes your way today! (And every day...)

When you look in the mirror

You see someone small…

You see a body too short

to see out high windows

Hands not strong enough to open doors

Legs that get tired when ‘over there’ is too far from ‘over here’.

But when I look in the mirror,

I see you and Me.

You in Me.

Me in you.

I see We!

What shall we do today, little one?

Come sit on My shoulders, from up here you can see…

Out windows,

Over fields,

Across dim valleys to brighter places that are waiting for our feet.

We can see into Forever.

Those stubborn doors?

No door can resist your hand on Mine,

So pick one!

We will go exploring.

It’s okay if your legs get tired,

we’ll use Mine.

When We look into the mirror, what do We see?

Light-Bearers who shatter darkness

Key-Holders who rescue captives

Love-Healers who fix broken hearts and lives

You in Me

Me in you…

WE

What shall We do today?

Dianne J. Wilson writes novels from her hometown in East London, South Africa, where she lives with her husband and three daughters.

Finding Mia is available from Amazon, Pelican / Harbourlight, Barnes & Noble and other bookstores.

Shackles is available as a free ebook from Smashwords.

Find her on Facebook, Twitter and her sporadic blog Doodles.

Another Twenty-Six Years

A couple of weeks back, my wife and I celebrated our 26th wedding anniversary. We have always both been pretty casual about the whole anniversary thing. Our shared view is that, if we have to place too much emphasis on the milestones, then perhaps we’re not enjoying the journey as much as we should. Also, raising our children was so demanding we did not really have the presence of mind to remember much beyond surviving each day. It was only when our kids starting preparing to leave the nest that we found ourselves remembering our anniversary.

“Say, didn't we get married in March?” my wife asked.
“Yes we did. It was the 10th or 12th, I think,” I replied.
“How long has it been?”
“Twenty-two years. No wait, twenty-three. Wow.”

That was three years ago. Last year I bought a fancy silver picture frame with “25th Anniversary” engraved along the bottom and two oval holes for photographs. The plan was for me to find a photo from when we first got married and another more recent picture.

That never happened and the frame stood empty all year. This year, however, I made the effort and found two suitable candidates. The first was taken on our wedding day (we looked vaguely terrified). The other was from our first trip to England without the kids (we look relieved). So we now have a beautiful silver frame showing where we started and how far we have come. Through a trick of perspective, my wife’s wedding gown appears to run diagonally across the other, more recent, picture. It looks almost like a path, as if God is showing us that he knew our steps long before we did and that those steps would lead us...here.

What struck me while searching through the albums and computer folders, was just how much we have been though since tying the knot a quarter of a century ago. I got to revisit my children’s lives, from them clinging to us while we helped them take their first wide-eyed steps, to them gazing into the distance with that longing in their eyes that meant they would soon be gone. Our aim was always to raise them to love Jesus and build their lives on God’s unshakable foundation. They have both had their struggles with faith, but my daughter talks about God as if he is a part of the family and last night my son had to end our Skype session early to attend the church youth group he leads. This gives me hope for their futures.

Somewhere in those photographs was a snapshot of my very first novel and I remembered so clearly why it was I started writing. I wanted to create stories that Christians could enjoy and that perhaps atheists could read as well. What I never expected was for it to take so long for that dream to come to fruition. In fact, the journey of my writing coincides almost exactly with that of my children. Last year both my son and daughter moved out to start lives of their own. Earlier this year I discovered something about my first novel that made the years of effort worthwhile.

While searching for my book “Alpha Redemption” on Google, I found it listed on a site of top 25 A.I. novels, surrounded by secular books from the likes of Asimov, Banks and Clarke. The reviewer said that he never thought that he would one day write a positive review for a Christian novel, but that that day had come. Looking at my little book sitting on that list of secular titles among the giants of science fiction, I realized that I could happily stop writing because this is exactly what I set out to do all those years ago.

But, like any journey, it doesn't finish till you get to the end. My children’s lives have just begun and the path leading from my wife’s dress does not stop but appears to pass out of the frame and on into the unknown. And I have too many stories inside my head to stop writing now. I hope that this is just the beginning and that, twenty five years down the line, I will be looking for more photographs to put inside a frame and marveling at how much we have lived during that time.  

A Season to Dance: The Book That Wrote Me

When I wrote the first line of my first novel in January of 2011, I wanted to get published because I was desperate to feel important.

I finished writing A Season to Dance that fall and hired coach Gloria Kempton via Writer’s Digest to look at the whole thing and tell me if it was any good.

She saw potential in the story of a small-town professional ballerina with big dreams, but explained I needed a clearer quest, more telling details, better scene structure, and better balance between sequels and dramatic scenes. I joined Gloria’s critique group and spent a year rewriting.

During that year, my husband got orders to move the family from Fort Benning, Georgia, to Germany, and he deployed for the sixth time soon after we settled on a lovely mountaintop in Idar-Oberstein.

When I finished rewriting, Gloria said the novel looked good and had everything a novel was supposed to have. But… “Something’s still missing. I don’t know what it is. We’ve covered it all.”

So of course I did what any writer desperate for validation would do. I told my coach that surely nothing was missing and that it was time to query. I hired a service to blast queries everywhere for me. I know… Shame on me… But God used that.

God’s Plan—Phase One

One query ended up with Mrs. Joyce Hart, of Hartline Literary. The novel wasn’t Christian—I wasn’t a Christian. She shouldn’t have received my query. But she did. She sent me a note saying she liked the storyline but that in Christian novels the protagonist couldn’t live with her love interest without being married. She was very kind and said that if she was missing the point and if the novel was indeed Christian that I should resubmit explaining the living together piece.

When I read it I laughed and rolled my eyes. I started typing a condescending reply. Something about Christian fairy tale brains and me living in the real world, but I decided not to send it.

Days passed. A week passed. A month passed. And all I did was collect rejections. I became bitter. Bitterly sad at first. Then bitterly discouraged. And then bitterly ugly. I’d never been ugly before. Not like that.

See, up to that point, I’d believed that there was some kind of “god” and that somewhere, somehow, being good was right and that it paid off. But with the disappointments of the publishing journey those beliefs became a joke to me. I stood in the middle of my empty German kitchen—husband deployed, kids at school, my first dog had just died. And I looked at that inbox full of rejections and stated to whomever or whatever was out there: “God is dead.”

Mercy. Surely I said that to the “god” of my imagination, and not to the real God—God as He reveals Himself in the Bible. But I know that He was in that kitchen with me. And phase two of His plan was about to start.

Luke 22:31-32: “And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat: But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.”

God’s Plan—Phase Two

As I lost all restraint and became the worst version of myself, God removed me from my green German mountaintop. 

After less than eighteen months in Germany, we were sent back to America, to the Chihuahuan Desert in West Texas. To a place called Fort Bliss—a place from which you can see a Mexican mountain with the words: “Cd. Juárez. La Biblia es la verdad. Leela.” That translates to “City of Juárez. The Bible is the truth. Read it.” Gotta love it. God is good.

During the first six months back in America, I went to two secular writers’ conferences and met more rejection. My lack of restraint and my selfishness didn’t really make me happy. I wanted to go to therapy. I wanted a job. I still dreamed of that book deal that had to be just around the corner. I wanted, I wanted…

But nothing happened, and it didn’t matter how hard I tried to get help, get happy, and find any kind of relief for the pain I felt. Nothing. Happened. I’d never seen so many closed doors—slammed-shut doors—ever in my life. Even the shrink kept double booking, closing early, and somehow cancelling on me. It was ridiculous.

The One Open Door

When God planted our family in the desert, He planted us two blocks from a friend from the Fort Benning years. A friend whose claim to fame was church shopping whenever the Army moved her family. I asked her to take me to church on the first Wednesday of January of 2013. 

I fell in His arms. Surrendered, defeated, and dependent. Or what God likes to call—ready. I was born again two weeks later and was baptized on Super Bowl Sunday that February.

Gloria’s “Something Missing”

I had tickets to go to New York for the Writer’s Digest conference that spring, but sometime in March, it dawned on me: “You silly goose of a girl. You wrote a salvation story without the salvation piece.” My first coach, Gloria Kempton, had been right all along. There was something missing!

A Season to Dance isn’t just the story of a small-town professional ballerina who dreams of dancing at the Met in New York and the two men who love her. It’s also the story of a girl desperately trying to fill the God-shaped hole in her heart with often misguided career and romantic pursuits.

I deleted Mrs. Hart’s email that week. Yes, it was still in my inbox. Job well done, Mrs. Hart.

Now, I had work to do. I spent 2013 and the first half of 2014 rewriting the novel. Five ladies from my Sunday school read chapter after chapter as I produced them and cheered me on through that gruesome process. I couldn’t have done it without their support. God is good.

Jeff Gerke edited my novel in the summer of 2014 and had me read Robert McGee’s The Search for Significance: Seeing Your True Worth Through God's Eyes. God is good.

I went to my first Christian writers conference, the ACFW 2014 in St. Louis. Two weeks later, Les Stobbe offered to represent me. God is good.

ACFW 2015 was fantastic and many houses are looking at that first manuscript. God is good.

My family got saved, too. My husband in July of 2013. Our son in December of 2013. My mom in the fall of 2014. And our little girl just this past summer, the summer of 2015. God is amazingly good.

How about you? How has God used your writing to grow you?

Patricia is from Brazil and immigrated to America in 1992. She graduated magna cum laude from the University of Cincinnati in 1998 with a B.A. in English Literature. She's been stationed in Germany twice, first as a public affairs officer for the U.S. Army and later as an Army wife. She and her husband live in El Paso, Texas, with their two children.

Facebook - www.facebook.com/patricia.beal.author
Twitter - www.twitter.com/bealpat
Web - www.patriciabeal.com

DEVOTION: Excuses, Excuses ~ by Marcia Lee Laycock

Teachers hear all kinds of excuses. Like this one -

“You cannot hold me responsible for knowing the material on this test, as I was sleeping during all of your lectures. As you did not wake me up, I assumed that you sympathized with my tiredness and were excusing me from the information being covered. Not needing to know the information, I assumed that I would not have to take a test on it. You might have made some kind of mistake in handing me this test, since I don't have to take it, so I am just writing this to remind you.”

This might make you laugh, but don’t be too ready to ridicule. Many of us use this same kind of reasoning with God all the time. We reason that if He really did not want us to do a particular thing, He’d do something to stop us. He wouldn’t let us cheat or steal or lie. He’d stop us before we got the chance to act on the thoughts He knows we entertain every day. But God doesn’t work that way. He is not responsible for our actions, any more than that professor was responsible for keeping his student awake in class. And just like that teacher, God will let us do what we set our minds on and then suffer the consequences. He does not do this maliciously, but in love, hoping that we will turn to Him.

The Apostle Paul states this bluntly in Romans 1:28 – “Furthermore, since they did not think it worthwhile to retain the knowledge of God, he gave them over to a depraved mind, to do what ought not to be done.”

God will not stop us from going our own way, but neither will he abandon us when we choose to resist the temptations that come upon us. There is always a way to resist. “And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it” (1Cor. 10:13).

We can’t blame God for our weaknesses. We can’t blame him for the mistakes we’ve made. But we can expect Him to be there when we try to overcome them. He has promised to never leave us and His strength is available to us every moment of our lives.

We ought to know that, because He told us so. We ought to remember it when those moments of temptation come. But we are prone to failure.

Again, God’s promise gives us a way out – “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9). All we have to do is stop making excuses, stop blaming God, and admit our wrongdoing. Then we can start again with a clean slate and God’s spirit to guide us.

Marcia Lee Laycock lives and writes in Central Alberta, Canada where she lives with her husband and two golden retrievers. Her work has appeared in print in both Canada and the U.S. and in many places on the world wide web. Visit her website to learn more about her writing and speaking ministry.

Marcia is the author of One Smooth Stone and A Tumbled Stone, and the devotional Spur of the Moment - available at Christian bookstores or from Amazon. Or order by emailing directly. Contact Marcia via her website to sign up to receive her weekly devotional, The Spur. 

Download Abundant Rain, a devotional for writers of faith at Smashwords.

DEVOTION: The Man with a Broom in His Hands ~ by Marcia Lee Laycock

The day had been hot and the walk through the gardens longer than I had anticipated. I was among the first few people to return to the tour bus that day and it was a relief to step into the air-conditioned environment. As we waited for the others to return, our driver called our attention to a man in the parking lot. 

“See that guy?” he asked. The man was dressed in overalls, with a base-ball cap pulled down to shade his eyes as he pushed a long broom toward the gutter. He looked like any other maintenance man you might see in a park. The driver paused for effect. “He’s the owner of this place.” He let the words sink in. “In fact, he’s the one who created it.”

I stared out the window again. I thought of all the beautiful flowers, shrubs and trees we had just seen, the landscaping that had been done with skill and attention to detail. The gardens were world-renowned for good reason. I was shocked that the man who was responsible for it all was sweeping the parking lot. As our bus rolled away, I watched a large crowd heading for the entrance. They flowed around the man in the over-alls like water around a rock. No-one spoke to him. No-one even seemed to notice him. I wondered what they’d do and say if they knew who he was.

How often do we do that to God? Even if we acknowledge that he did create the world we live in, we think of him as the executive who stays in his office and calls the shots from there. We don’t expect to find him with a broom in his hands. But that’s exactly where God is. He is present with us in every circumstance. Even better, His Spirit is living in us and working through us. He has His hands on the same broom we do. He walks the same roads, drives the same highways. He’s here, waiting for us to see Him, waiting for us to acknowledge his presence.

I still wonder what those people would have said and done, had they known who that man with the broom was. I wonder if they would have thanked him for the treasure he created and opened for their pleasure. I wonder if they would have been in awe, or just a little bit intimidated. And I wonder why it was we who knew sat in our seats and did nothing. We didn’t rush out and shake his hand. We didn’t express our thankfulness for the beauty we’d just seen and experienced. We drove away, watching that crowd ignore him.

There are a lot of verses in scripture that can be used to praise God, to thank Him, to give Him glory. The Psalms are full of them. Perhaps we should all take a moment to read a few, not just out of obligation or habit, but with heart-felt emotion, to acknowledge Him. For, “Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise” (Ps.145:3).

Marcia Lee Laycock lives and writes in Central Alberta, Canada where she lives with her husband and two golden retrievers. Her work has appeared in print in both Canada and the U.S. and in many places on the world wide web. Visit her website to learn more about her writing and speaking ministry.

Marcia is the author of One Smooth Stone and A Tumbled Stone, and the devotional Spur of the Moment - available at Christian bookstores or from Amazon. Or order by emailing directly. Contact Marcia via her website to sign up to receive her weekly devotional, The Spur. 

Download Abundant Rain, a devotional for writers of faith at Smashwords.