Home from the 10th ACFW Conference!

(left, Susan Downs, me, Susan May Warren. Ten years and counting!)

It's never easy, Being in a pool of peers. Swimming with the current. Against the current. Exhausted. Laughing. Weary yet energized. Pulled in a thousand different directions. Yet somehow having a single purpose.

Novels. Fiction. Hanging with other writers. I love to teach. Never realized how much until I started doing it.

This year, I learned I'm good at improve at the My Book Therapy Pizza Parties on the 18th floor with 100 Voices and a lighted terrace. No wonder singing antiphonally is easy. I can "act" antiphonally too. Ha! We ended the night in song, "Don't Stop Believing." Sharing the stage with Jim Rubart, Karen Ball and Susie May.

Being asked by the band, Jeremiah, Jimi, Jason and Jeremy to ride the elevator with them at 1:00 AM while they detonated iPhone farts on tipsy riders. My acceptance to their invitation inducted me permanently in to the "boy's club." I should write my older brother and his friends thank you notes. They trained me well.

Leading worship with 720 people who love Jesus. Chills running over my arms as we sang to the King of Kings. Disappointed when one of the band members overheard a woman rushing out of the hotel Sunday morning saying, "I can't wait to get back to 'normal' worship." Really? That was her conference take away? Abnormal worship.

Which leads to the question. What's normal worship? Who gets to define worship? Not me. Not you. But the Holy Spirit. Isn't it amazing how MUCH worship is about us. I have to watch that with my own brand of worship. Too tempted to pigeon hole it to fit "me" not Jesus.

Laughing with Liz Curtis Higgs during the Awards Gala. We were too rowdy. I apologize. We never meant to laugh at all -- but a tiny spark can ignite a roaring flame. Then came the spinning elephant and it was all over.

Loving Shannon Marchese's tears-of-laughter. And sharing the table with T.L. Higley, Karen Ball, Steve Laube, Susie May, Shannon and Andy Meisenheimer.

Susan May Warren winning The Carol for Sons of Thunder. I tuck away all of her wins as my wins too. We work that closely...

Meeting so many new writers. Connecting with friends I only see at conference. Meeting new friends. You know who you are!

Gathering with the Belles -- Lisa Wingate, Marybeth Whalen, Beth Webb Hart. Love you! Lisa winning The Carol for Never Say Never!

Hugs from My Book Therapy Voices -- Beth Vogt, Lisa Jordan, Reba Hoffman, Michelle Lim, Delores Topliff, Alena Tauriainen, Edie Melson, Melissa Tagg, and so many more!

Realizing we all have insecurities. We all feel lost. We all want to belong but often feel we don't.

The humor and smiles of Tyler and Jeane Wynn. (Yes... I know... )

Decided I need to be more proactive, a bit more goal oriented. I so want God's will in my life I've been come... passive? I volunteered to sit on the back row with Him, let Him lead my life, let Him sing my praises. I intend to stay there. Yet, I must put plans into place so HE can direct my steps.

Having those moments where I couldn't wait to get home and start writing. Yet, loving a season to refresh.

I love writing novels! It's the other stuff I don't always enjoy...

Ten years ago I attended the first ACFW conference in Kansas City. I've been to every one since. Oddly, there are times when I still feel sooo new, so outside, observing. Am I still the newbie at that first conference so long ago? LOL. It seems like it sometimes.

I met Susan Downs, Susan Warren, Tracey Bateman and Christine Lynxwiler that year and they became dear, dear friends. Women of my heart. I've not seen Tracey or Chris in a few years. I miss them.

Friends.

I'm proud of what ACFW is doing, from where we've come to where we're going. Honored to be a part of God moving among His people and opening up our hearts to WRITE for Him.

Things We Don't See Anymore

Something happened... I don't remember what, but it occurred to me, "Man, you don't see that anymore."

I came up with a quick list of things I used to see but rarely if ever do now.

Sweat stains

Girdle lines

Dandruff (at least I don't)

Overheating cars on the side of the road.

Teased hair

Beehive hairdo

Frosted hair

Wrinkled cotton clothes

Bare light bulbs dangling from a wire

Secretaries

Five & Dime Stores

Kids collecting glass soda bottles for money

I asked a few writer friends for their thoughts on things they don't see anymore.

Lenora Worth said, "How about the mullet?" To which Kristin Billerbeck responded, "How about the bullet? With the bald part in the back."

Lissa Halls Johnson said she never sees:

Waxed paper bags for sandwichesMailing things wrapped in brown grocery bags and tied with string
TV remotes that "click" (and take some effort to push the buttons)
The bakery guy who comes to your house, opens the back of his specialized wagon and pulls out a drawers filled with yummy breads.
A cardboard cap for the glass milk jar.
A machine that slices the bread for you when you buy it at the corner grocery
Over the counter medicinal products without any kind of extra wrapping and seals (You could buy a bottle of aspirin, pop off the top and there were aspirin! Sometimes a cotton ball, but never anything else."
Kids playing outside after dark in a neighborhood. Young kids playing outside by themselves
Kids riding in cars without seatbelts
Anyone riding in cars without seatbelts
Kids riding in the back of open pickup trucks
Kids sleeping in that hollow space of the back window in the car

Author and friend Carolyne Aarsen sent a great list!
Rolls of film by the checkout counter in a grocery store or drugstore.
Mascara that came in little blocks with a brush. You'd have to make the block wet with the brush and then put it on.
Pay phones.
Sanitary napkin belts.
Cassette tapes
Floppy disks
People smoking in restaurants
Paying for groceries with a cheque. (She's from Canada, but we love her!)
Milk being delivered by a milk truck

Historical author who wanted to be anonymous wrote:
Crooked teeth
Public telephones
Women pulling up their sagging panty hose
Service Station attendants pumping gas and washing car windows

Friend and author Debora Raney offered these great ideas:
Garters
Pantyhose
Black-and-white TVs
Typewriters
Outhouses
Smallpox vaccination scars on children's arms.
Women in public with spongy pink curlers in their hair.
Telephone party lines
Phone cords (at least not very many)
Butter churns (except in museums)

What about you? What items do you think are of "days gone by?"

Fairer Than Morning by Rosslyn Elliot

Please welcome debut author, Rosslyn Elliot!

***

Ann dreams of a marriage proposal from her poetic suitor, Eli-until Will Hanby shows her that nobility is more than fine words.

On a small farm in 19th-century, young Ann Miller is pursued by the gallant Eli Bowen, son of a prominent family. Eli is the suitor of Ann's dreams. Like her, he enjoys poetry and beautiful things and soon, he will move to the city to become a doctor.

Ann travels to Pittsburgh, accompanying her father on business. There she meets Will Hanby, a saddle-maker's apprentice. Will has spent years eking out an existence under a cruel master and his spirit is nearly broken. But Ann's compassion lights a long-dark part of his soul. Through his encounters with Ann's father, a master saddler, Will discovers new hope and courage in the midst of tremendous adversity.
When the Millers must return to Ohio and their ministry there, Will resolves to find them, at any cost. If Will can make it back to Ann, will she be waiting?

Read an excerpt here:

About Rosslyn:
Rosslyn Elliott grew up in a military family and relocated so often that she attended nine schools before her high school graduation. With the help of excellent teachers, she qualified to attend Yale University, where she earned a BA in English and Theater. She worked in business and as a schoolteacher before returning to study at Emory University, where she earned a Ph.D. in English in 2006.

Her study of American literature and history inspired her to pursue her lifelong dream of writing fiction. She lives in the Southwest, where she homeschools her daughter and teaches in children's ministry. For more about Rosslyn, visit her website.

Link to buy the book.

Contest

Win a custom made period dress ... and a KINDLE from Rosslyn Elliott!
Enter 9/1-9/20!

To celebrate the release of her debut novel, Fairer Than Morning, Rosslyn Elliott is giving away two fabulous prize packages. The first is brand new KINDLE in her Fairer Than Morning Kindle Giveaway. Then on September 20th she's giving away a $200 gift certificate toward a Custom-Made Historical Reproduction Dress (from Recollections) during the Fairer Than Morning Book Club Chat Party on Facebook! Sigh...romantic.

Fairer Than Morning is receiving wonderful reviews - Library Journal said, "A well-written historical series debut…". Read more reviews here.

Be sure to join the fun and enter the Kindle contest -


One winner will receive:

* Kindle with Wi-Fi

* Fairer Than Morning (for Kindle)

To enter just click one of the icons below. But, hurry, giveaway ends on 9/19. Winner will be announced on 9/20 at Rosslyn's Book Club Facebook Party. Details and official rules can be found when entering the contest.

Then be sure to RSVP for Rosslyn's Facebook Party! During the party Rosslyn will be chatting with guests, hosting a book chat about Fairer Than Morning (don't worry if you haven't read the book yet - you could win a copy!) & historical Fiction, testing your trivia skills. She'll also be giving away that $200 gift certificate toward a FABULOUS custom-made period dress from Recollections!

From This Day Forward By Margaret Daley

“A wonderful love story in the American Tapestries series with characters who are trying to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives after the War of 1812. Daley turns the ugliness of war into a new beginning for the ones who pick up the pieces. Her characters are willing to do what they need to in order to survive, but also are willing to give a friendly hand to those around them.” -- Patsy Glans from RT

***

Releasing today, September 1st!

From Summerside Press.

Learn more about it here!

From This Day Forward

By Margaret Daley

Rachel Gordon is stranded in South Carolina, pregnant, a recent widow when her husband fell overboard on the voyage to America. Nathan Stuart, a physician who came home from serving in the American army during the War of 1812, disenchanted with his life and the Lord, rescues Rachel and saves her life. Feeling responsible for her, Nathan tries to discourage her from living at a rundown farm her husband bought to start a new future in America. He wants her to return to England.

Rachel refuses to go back to England where her father disowned her for marrying against his wishes. The farm is all she has, and she is determined to make it on her own. But Nathan has other ideas and becomes her farmhand to discourage her from staying in America. Instead he ends up protecting her and being challenged by her. Can two wounded people heal each other?

Chapter One Excerpt:

March 1816

“We are going to die,” Rachel Gordon’s young maid cried out.

Rachel looked up at the clouds rolling in. Dark, ominous ones. She shivered and pulled her shawl tighter about her as the breeze picked up. A storm brewed, and she still had several miles to go until she reached her new home in South Carolina. “God willing, we will make it, Maddy.”

Fear deepened the lines on Maddy’s plain face. “’Tis like the squall on the boat.”

Lightning flashed, momentarily brightening the shadows of the forest. A clap of thunder rumbled the ground. Maddy screamed. The old gelding that pulled the cart—all Rachel’s meager coins could afford—increased its speed, weaving from side to side. Out of control.

Determined to be there before nightfall and in one piece, Rachel gripped the reins and fought to slow the maddening pace of the horse. Finally it resumed its plodding step. The weather-beaten cart she had bought near the dock in Charleston hit a bump in the road, jostling her into Maddy. Her maid clutched the seat with one hand and held onto Rachel with the other.

Steadying herself, Rachel rested her wrists on her rounded stomach. She had more than herself and Maddy to worry about now. Her life had changed so much since she left her ancestral home in England. She had married, conceived a child, and was now a widow, all in the space of a year. And worse, she was going to a place she had never seen because she had nowhere else to go. Her husband had used most of their money to purchase this plantation she was traveling to. It was her future, whether she wanted it to be or not.

The warmth of a spring day quickly faded as the sky grew blacker. Rachel stared at the menacing clouds through the treetops and realized she would not make it to her new home before the storm broke. She scanned the area for a place to seek shelter.

Sinister shadows lurked just beyond the road. Again she shivered, her imagination conjuring images of wild animals staring at her from the depths of the forest. She’d heard stories about the bears. Huge. Fierce. Sharp teeth and claws. Shifting on the seat, she darted a glance from side to side, feeling as though she were some beast’s next meal. She could not stop, even if it poured down rain.

Oh, how she missed England, with its gently rolling hills and refined beauty—not this raw wilderness. Like a fish floundering on land, she did not belong here. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this strange environment.

Drops of water spattered her. The wind picked up.

“That man on the boat told me about a big cat. They are out there.” Maddy whimpered, draping her shawl over her head and hunching her shoulders. “Lord, have mercy on us.”

Rachel forced herself to keep her gaze fixed on the road ahead. Once they were at the plantation Maddy would settle down. The squall two days out of Charleston had nearly sunk the ship they had traveled in. Surely this storm would not be as bad.

Taking deep breaths, Rachel calmed her racing thoughts and heartbeat. Pain spread through her lower back. She gripped the reins, the leather digging into her palms. The pain dulled to an ache. Another deep inhalation and the panic nibbling at her composure abated. Soon she would be at her new home and could sit in front of a warm fire, put her legs up, and rest. Hopefully the letter her husband had sent ahead would alert any staff to her arrival. Her glance strayed to the tall pine trees, swaying in the gust. Everything would be all right when she arrived at Dalton Plantation.

But even with Maddy next to her on the seat, the feeling she was the only person in the world overwhelmed her.

The wind picked up, whipping strands of her long brown hair that had escaped its coiffure about her face and threatening to whisk away her bonnet. Lightning zigzagged across the sky, followed by thunder. Maddy jumped in her seat. The gelding’s ears flattened.

A chill embedded itself deep in Rachel. She arched her back to ease the pang still plaguing her. Suddenly lightning struck a tree nearby, its flash a beacon in the growing darkness. A crack as the pine split into two pieces echoed through the forest. Immediately afterward, a boom of thunder cleaved the air. Maddy shrieked. The horse increased its pace while a few more splotches of water splashed Rachel. Then all at once rain fell in gray sheets.

The gelding lurched forward even faster. Rachel grasped the reins, trying to maintain control. She pulled on the leather straps to slow the horse. Nothing. He kept galloping down the road, oblivious to his surroundings, as though the hounds of hell were nipping at his hooves.

***

Looks like another great read from beloved author, Margaret Daley

Margaret Daley is an award winning, multi-published author in the romance genre. One of her romantic suspense books, Hearts on the Line, won the American Christian Fiction Writers’ Carol Award. Recently she has won the Golden Quill Contest, FHL’s Inspirational Readers’ Choice Contest, Winter Rose Contest, Holt Medallion and the Barclay Gold Contest. She writes inspirational romance, both contemporary and historical, and romantic suspense books. Her seventy-fifth book is From This Day Forward.

Giving!

I love giving. It's such an amazing gift to humanity. A picture of God's generous heart.

Nothing is gained by being stingy, clinging to our hearts, our money, our "stuff."

Yea, I like my stuff. I like things. But I've found such a freedom and joy in giving.

Especially giving of words. Encouraging others, praising others, esteeming others higher than myself. (A work still in progress.)

So, as we go into fall, approaching the busy season of school, holidays, Christmas, I want to encourage giving.

I've got 3 copies of Dining with Joy to give away. And two audios of The Sweet By and By!

Leave a comment telling me some "giving" you plan to do or have recently done. I'll draw a winner next week!

Happy giving!

More than a 1000 Words

If I could write the emotion this picture displays... Dog mourns the death of his master, Navy SEAL Jon Tumilson, was one of 30 Americans killed in Afghanistan on Aug. 6 when a rocket-propelled grenade took out a U.S. Chinook helicopter.

Thank you for your service and sacrifice Jon, and to your family and dog too. God is the God of ALL comfort.

United we stand, divided we fall.

Which God?

Words from my hubby:

In my last blog I discussed proof of God in general. I did not specify any God in particular. So once you’ve established the existence of God, how do you go about choosing among the many gods available? Can God even be known? The short answer is, “only if He wants to be known."

Consider that any Deity capable of creating the universe can certainly hide from us if He wants.

We can “search for God” diligently, but if He doesn’t want to be found, there is no finding him. My recommendation is that you scratch off your list any religion claiming to have found the way to God. If God can only be known if He wants to be, it makes more sense to look for where God has revealed Himself to man.

Take Jesus for example. He claimed to be God come to earth, backed it up with convincing Godlike character and miracles, even had men write down things about His life ahead of time so we’d know it was Him.

Then He correctly identified that there was no way for us to reach God, explained how God would make a way from His end, and demonstrated unearthly love by suffering to become that way.

Finally, rising from the dead and ascending into heaven visibly...no other religious figure even comes close to the Incomparable One. I guess the choice isn’t that difficult after all.

***

Rachel here: I love this. Yes, some claim there are many gods and they must be known by their character. I heard a Muslim man quoted as saying America is Muslim because we have "In God We Trust" on our money. Allah, in his definition, is God.

For a moment, I pondered. "Okay, Allah is God. In Spanish God is called Dios. In Arabic or Islam, God is called Allah."

But it didn't sit right with me. Jehovah God we meet in the Old Testament is plural. He's the Father, the Spirit. The Son. The God we meet in the New Testament is clearly plural.

Allah, in Islam, is one. In fact, around their temple in Jerusalem the stone is inscribed with, "God is one. He has no son."

So Allah is not the "In God We Trust" on our money because American's founders believed in the triune God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. They believe in the Father, the Son and the Spirit.

It's important to know what we believe and why. God is willing and able to reveal Himself to all who ask.

Ask.

I Used To Take A Lot of Pictures

I used to take pictures. Back in the day when we used film and had to wait a week for a roll to be developed.

I started out with in junior high with an Instamatic camera. My grandfather and my great uncle were great photographers.

Then I graduated to a Canon SLR. Finally to a Nikon with a bunch of fancy lenses. In fact, my final quarter at Ohio State sealing up my journalism degree wasn't writing a ground breaking story, but taking pictures. The Lantern advisor gave me an A-. Not a common grade from him. He gave me a C when I was on the copy desk. (snort!)

Sidebar: The Lantern advisor used to collect bad headlines and cutlines to use in class. "Here's what NOT to do."

Well... Winter Quarter of '85 I was a copy editor on the paper. One night the Editor handed me a photo. "Write a cutline for this." He explained what was going on in the photo ending with, "Write Pope releases pigeons of peace or something like that..."

So, it was late. I was ready to go home. And I wrote, "Pope Releases Pigeons of Peace." End of story.

But two quarters later when I'm a photographer on the paper for the summer, our newspaper advisor popped that baby up on the slide saying, "Pope releases doves of peace, not pigeons."

It was hard not to laugh out loud. I leaned to my friend and whispered, "I wrote that!" Oh man, she nearly spewed.

We laughed a lot that summer.

AND, now this is really weird. Seven years later I go to Israel with a team of people from around the world. There was this zany and fun Australian woman who kept us all entertained. One day we were at the Wailing Wall and she said, "Look at the pigeons of peace."

I told my roommates my own pigeon story and tied it with Barbara's and we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe. I must say I felt justified about my cutline! I KNEW they were pigeons of peace!

End sidebar

Taking pictures was synonymous with writing. I wrote and snapped photos. But I have photo albums I never pull out. I go to my old diaries more.

Somewhere along the way, I stopped taking pictures. Maybe it's because I ceased to be photogenic. I had a picture of me on a shelf at one of my "pre married" apartments. A friend came over and said, "Who is that?" Emphasis on "who" and more emphasis on "that." I wasn't at all insulted he didn't recognize me. Or that he looked kind of like "Really?" when I told him it was me. Jaw dropping astonishment is always a compliment, right ladies?

Maybe I stopped taking pictures because I stopped putting the photos in albums. I traveled a lot in the first years of my corporate job. I took a lot of pictures. I have a lot of photos in albums. Even more in boxes. Please, no scrap booking recommendations. I've seen that chore. Ain't happening.

I have an iPhone. The "new" Instamatic. I can take pictures anytime. Hubby and I just had three series of house guests. I took not one picture. What's up with that? I thought I should snap one or two. But I never did.

I've made the case to my hubby that I need a new digital SLR. The kind that cost hundreds of dollars. But I'm starting to wonder if I can justify the cost. Anyone have a camera I can buy cheap just to see?

Maybe I don't take pictures any more because I don't like the quality of pictures I get on my "instamatic." Just point and shoot.

I like pictures. They say a thousand words. I love old pictures of my family. But I'm just out of the picture taking mode. I'm less sentimental than I used to be. Could that be part of the reason?

But writing... Oh, such a different story. That expression never left my fascination. It's changed. I don't keep private diaries any longer. I have a book for prayers, dreams, insight from Scripture, but not, "Dear Diary, today I went shopping and...."

I blog. That's what y'all get to read. (Ooo, shouts of joy!) But public blogging had it's limits. And aren't we glad? (snort!)

I used to take a lot of pictures. But now, I form the images in my heart with words. Inadequately. But pictures none the less.

What about you? Do you take pictures? Do you break out old photo albums? Talk to me...

The House is Quiet

It's been busy at the Hauck House. Fun. First Carrie, then Cassie and Sarah, dessert with friends two nights running, good news, sad news, life.

Pause. Before you read farther. I'm in a contemplative mood.

But I won't write what I feel because feelings are not truth. Not always. Having an intuitive nature, I've had to learn to tell the difference between what the Spirit is telling me and what my soul is sensing.

Yeah, the Spirit always wins. Better to listen to Him than me.

I'm pretty okay, more than okay about not having had children. Peace and grace abound. But as I checked family Facebook pages and saw the kid pictures and back to school shout outs, I "felt" it a little bit.

No children. A very permanent state. Nothing to change it.

So, I went to my comfort. He said, "But you can hang out with Me all day. And write."

I wish my human heart could grasp the reality of the living Lord inviting me to hang out with Him all day. To be a place where He can rest. Share His heart as He chooses.

But it's not about busyness, is it? Children or not, we are to be His resting place. Jesus didn't scold Martha for being busy, for not sitting at His feet, He scolded her for being worried, fretting, accusing her sister. Complaining.

It's not externals He's after. It's the internal. The place of belief and rest. Faith.

It has to be enough to sit on the back row with Him and watch the world, resting, being, not letting my heart growing weary or hard.

I love this: Acts 13:52 "... and the disciples were continually filled with joy and the Holy Spirit."

Am I? Are you? JOY! It's the word of the year. The decade. The Lord's joy is my strength.

What's next? I don't know? I have no expectations except He is good. He is faithful.

Hey, what's the line between living a life of a bond-servant, seeking the Lord for direction yet moving forward, doing what we think is right? Taking a leap of faith? Some are praying, waiting and never moving. They feel let down.

Others move forward and succeed.

What's the balance? How do gifting and calling weigh in?

Don't want to waste time, gifting or calling. Don't want to sit idly. Don't want to work in my own strength.

Faith.

"Here I am, Lord."

The House is Quiet.

Forsaken by Leanna Ellis

Hannah Schmidt,a young Amish woman mourning the mysterious death of her beloved Jacob, must decide between two brothers, between good and evil.

When she learns her first love isnow the vampire Akiva, she must forsake him and cling to a new love, a lastinglove, one that will save her soul.

Amish and vampires? Really? Yes, really. I’m asked a lot how this book came into being.

Forsaken actually began as a joke. I was at a book signing and another author and I made a joke about we should write an Amish/vampire story because those were the two genres that were selling so well.

Well, it really was a joke. I didn’t rush home and start writing the book. But I suppose some seed was planted in my warped little brain and took root. Soon a character was speaking to me abouther story and wanting me to write it. I resisted. But there was a very intriguing element that I couldn’t seem to ignore. To me, this was a Phantom ofthe Opera type story, with a love triangle, and a clear dividing line between good and evil.

So I wrote the prologue and first chapter. Then I set it aside because I was busy meeting other deadlines. Besides what was I to do with an Amish/vampire story? I mentioned it eventually to a couple of writer friends.They laughed but in a good way and encouraged me to write it.

Well, I wasn’t sosure although I was becoming obsessed with the story. I spent a lot of time inprayer over this book, because I don’t want to write something that God doesn’twant me to write. Also, I knew I’d have to leave the Christian market and sellit in the secular market. I wasn’t about to make that move without God’s clear direction. And he began to show me in more ways than one that this was the book He wanted me to write.

More than a year passed, and I was at a writer’s conference minding my own business and not pursuing this story at all. An editor said the perfect submission would be…you guessed it! An Amish/vampire story. So I made an appointment to meet that editor and just talk about the idea.

It almost felt like when an addict first admits she has a problem. I felt like I was teetering on the edge when I said, “I’m a writer and I’ve written an Amish/vampire story.” Well, she requested it. What I love about this story is that it shows the battle of good and evil.

Evil doesn’t always appear with pitchfork and horns. Quite often, evil is appealing and attractive and hooks usin before we realize what has happened. Such is the case with my heroine Hannah. She simply loved a boy. But she opens her heart and her mind too easily and the consequences could be devastating. Even though this story is published in the secular world, it has a powerful spiritual message, a message the world needs to hear.

Read more and an excerpt here.

Order the book from Amazon.

Note: I was with Leanna at the conference where she pitched the idea to an editor. It's fun to see the story come to fruition! Way to go,Le!

A word from my Hubby: Prove it! God does exist

It has been said, and generally accepted, that the existence of God cannot be proven. I disagree.

It is true that the existence of God cannot be scientifically proven. Since scientific proof requires observation, nothing unobserved can be scientifically proven. Of course, this means that no historical event predating photography can be reliably proven.

Yet we confidently teach thousands of years of history. For this we rely on historical proof, based upon a preponderance of evidence. Incidentally, no historical figure has stronger historical documentation than Jesus, and no historical book even comes close to the reliability of the Bible. But there is an even better proof.

A simple rational proof considers observation, evidence, and clear rules of logic to reach a conclusion through reason. This is the kind of proof lawyers rely on. Ironically, Christians are accused of abandoning reason for blind faith when the existence of a Creator God is the most reasonable conclusion, requiring the least faith. Here we go.

When you see chairs lined up in a row, you conclude someone put them in order. A skyscraper implies both a designer and builder. A painting must have an artist behind it. It would be unreasonable to think these things happen randomly.

Order, design, structure and beauty are proof of an orderer, designer, builder, creator. Even science teaches us that in the absence of intelligent direction, entropy rules. Consider that we have yet to design anything that approaches the order and complexity found in nature. The world screams “intelligent creator”. The proof is everywhere.

(Rom 1:19-20) "...because what may be known of God is manifest in them, for God has shown it to them. For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even His eternal power and Godhead, so that they are without excuse..."

Don't be without an excuse. KNOW what you believe.

Is She Your Daughter?

One of my girls from youth days is visiting. Carrie.

She's been off on her own for a while now. Last year went on a mission trip to 11 countries in 11 months. Graduated from FSU. Worked for the state.

We love having her here.

After a morning chat, then some work for me, we went for pedicures -- down to my "old neighborhood" because I miss my Publix, McDonalds and nail salon.

Carrie and I climbed into the pedicure chairs and the man who typically does my feet nodded toward Carrie, "Is that your daughter?"

I said, "Yes," without really thinking. I probably misunderstood him. I confess.

Carrie and I looked at each other, laughed and shrugged.

When I was checking out, the shop owner asked, "How old is she?"

I made a face. How old is who? I glanced at Carrie who had her toes stuck under the drying machine.

"She's um..." Me, squinting. I'm a great "mom." "Twenty-nine."

"Twenty-nine?!" Shock and dismay. "I thought she was fifteen or something."

Carrie beamed. I signed the debit receipt. Not a word about how I wasn't old enough to have a twenty-nine year old -- thank you very much! ;)

Carrie has yellow toe nails now. I told her she's walking on sunshine.

Going For A Run

I was going to blog. But I'm going for a run instead.

Seriously, my blogging gas tank is on empty. I have lots on my heart and mind to share but it's as if the Lord is asking me to be silent.

So, I will.

Far too often I speak too soon. I speak before the "idea" or the "revelation" is a life seed in my own heart. I go tossing out my treasures before they have a chance to shine.

Silence is a good thing. Really. Setting a guard over our mouth, godliness.

Off to run...

I Case You're Wondering, God IS Listening

I forget all the time that God is listening.

"Then those who feared the LORD spoke to one another, and the LORD gave attention and heard it and a book of remembrance was written before Him for those who fear the Lord and esteem His name." Malachi 3:16

Those who feared the Lord spoke to each other. And the Lord GAVE attention to them. Even more, He wrote it down in His memory book!

The Lord is near. He's watching. Listening. I know it feels and seems at times like God is far off, distant, not answering, but the scripture is clear, the Lord is near to those who call upon Him in truth.

Sure, we must be true believers. We must believe in Him. We must believe He's good, He's love and He's who He says He is. So work on that if you're struggling, but otherwise, pick up our faith, lift your head and KNOW God is drawing near to hear your conversations.

For me, lately, that means shutting my mouth. As I realized today God hears me, I was in awe of how stupid I can be with my words. Evil even. I'm a venter. I have to work out my emotions or disappointments by... talking.

But what exactly is that getting me? Nothing. Only the negative emotions in my heart coming out of my mouth with the life form of words, then boomeranging back into my heart and creating a vortex of bad seeds that dig deep. I can't let go of what's bothering me because I keep talking about it!

I was worshipping at the piano today, kind of giving this deal to God in song and I came up with a country lyric! I know! Shock and amaze. "What can I do, how can I let go, when letting go won't let go of me."

The answer is letting go to Jesus. Covering it in the blood of the Cross. The blood that stains is the blood that cleans.

This notion of God listening hit me today when I mused back over our recent move. In February or March, I said to Hubby, "Gee, I hope our best days in ministry aren't behind us. Like what happened in youth church in the '90s was it."

"Oh, please, I hope not," he said.

Truly, could our best days in ministry be behind us? We had a mini move of God in the '90s followed by some serious years with some serious worship and serious kids. It was awesome.

Was that all, God?

Then in March our friends announce they're heading back to Pixar. I loved their house so I whispered to God one Monday, "Lord, if there's anyway we could get that house, please do it."

I knew we couldn't afford it, but I knew God could.

On Thursday, four short days later, our friend calls. "Hey, let's talk house." I blogged about it already, so I won't rehash the details.

On Friday, Hubby and I went down to Ft. Pierce to hear a man we know share some things God was showing him. It was a small intimate setting. Even so, the man did not know we were coming. We knew him, barely, and hadn't seen him in many years.

At the end of his sharing he began speaking to Hubs, exhorting him in the Lord FROM the Lord. In the middle he said, "The best is not in the past."

Saturday night we met with our friends to talk about the house.

It's no accident to me that the house prayer and the "best is not in the past" exhortation were answered the same week. God even answered us with our very words.

"I'm listening!"

Beloved, we may go months or weeks, sadly years, without such a kiss from the Lord, but we must continue to press in to hear His voice. He's not far off. He's not distant. He's very near. He does hear.

"Be still," Isaiah writes, "and know that I'm God."

Summer is practically over! School Days Loom.

We're heading into the weekend. It's mid July. Summer is only a few weeks old but already Awesome and I are talking about school starting. He teaches high school math in the mornings and pastors in the afternoons.

Yesterday I rode my bike past a park and pee wee and junior football had started practice. I stopped to watch. I wanted to help coach.

We've been in our new place six weeks. It's lovely. Has a lot of character. I'm comfortable here. But it's not quite home yet. I drove home from lunch the other day... to my old house.

I was way south of my now-house, stopped at a light, my senses coming together as I subconsciously considered my route home. Something felt off. Like, I wouldn't be able to get into the house when I arrived. Then it hit me! I was going home the wrong way. I'd gone on auto pilot.

I have a new book proposal on the table. It's fab. I'm excited about it. But up next is a fourth book with Sara Evans. We've not talked concept yet, but should be fun when we finally get our heads together.

The Wedding Dress rewrite comes next week. I'm looking forward to digging back into that story and polishing it up. Look for it April 2012.

It's been a quiet summer -- other than moving. Other than developing a book proposal, it's been writing-quiet too. I needed it. The winter and spring were deadline focused including a massive rewrite, then I went straight into the move. Isn't God good? To give me time? He knew, He knew...

Being away from writing for two months now, I'm actually enjoying reading again!

But next week, things get busy. I have The Wedding Dress rewrite.

Friends will be in town next week. Then again the first of August. My brother and his family come in September, then I'm off to the ACFW Conference. In October I have a brainstorm weekend, followed by a trip to the North Shore to visit Susie Warren. And hopefully a visit from my mom.

And it's FOOTBALL season. I'll be on ESPN 360 most Saturdays. :) I'm looking forward to the holidays in my new neighborhood. I hear they do things up right.

I'm loving life. Full of God's grace and trusting Him even when I'm not sure what the future holds. Trusting Him when I have this huge expectation yet am not sure it will ever come to fruition. He holds my heart. I'm so glad He loves me!

What's up with your summer? How's it going?

He Blinded Me With Science

Great thoughts from my Awesome husband.

Stephen Hawking, renowned physicist, has recently declared that there is no God. Not surprising since science has been elevated above all other thought or reason.

Two consequences of this philosophy are that science can now speak authoritatively on any topic, and nothing is true unless science says it is true.

What has been overlooked is a logical fallacy. The Scientific Method, taught in every high school in America, requires any hypothesis undergo testing and observation before reaching a conclusion.

The fundamental methods of science limit it to speaking authoritatively only about those things that can be observed and tested. This leaves quite a list of topics about which science has nothing to say, evolution and the existence of God being two notable ones.

When science does speak authoritatively without applying the Scientific Method, I call that faith, and science becomes a religion.

So beware the priests of science. It’s just another cult.

Drawing winners

Thanks to all who comment on my blog and others about This Time. The winners of the book and gift cert are:

Juanita Wickey -- Softy and Tenderly and Gail Kittleson -- $10 to Amazon.

And one more for good measure: misskallie2000 -- $10 to Amazon.

Blessings!
Rachel

What I learned about my faith from a screenwriting book

I'm reading a great writing book, "Save the Cat" by Blake Snyder. He's a screenwriter, but shedding some great light on how to craft and formulate a story.

Snyder writes he's "shocked to find out how many up-and-comers can not even quote from movies in their own genre much less movies generally."

Trust me, he writes, all the big guys can. Spielberg and Scorsese can talk about movies in detail, quote from hundreds, and explain how each movie works.

This really struck me. As a writer yes. I can't quote from too many novels. ** blush ** I can quote more from movies than books. Snyder's insight challenges me to be more purpose full with my reading and studying of books.

But even more, I'm struck by the passion of men like Spielberg and Scorsese to know their craft, to let their work and art infuse their lives.

As a Believer, I want this to be my way with my Lord. I don't want to be a casual Christian who can spout a few Sunday school verses, or drop Christianese, or think I'm the one follower of Christ who doesn't need to be in the Word daily.

How many Christians are just like the up-and-coming screenwriters Snyder writes about? They cannot quote from the Bible. They don't understand the complexities and layers of the Word. They think it's for the theologians and happily leave it in their intellectual hands.

I dare say intellectuals have done more harm than good to the pure truth of the Gospel.

We must be the Spielbergs of our faith. We must KNOW Him. And the only way to know HIM is to be with HIM.

Jesus prays to the Father in John 17: 24, "Father, I desire that they also whom You have given Me be with Me where I am..."

We want to be disciples of Christ without being disciplined. We want to claim the salvation of the Cross while living full bore for ourselves. I hear many Believers say they embrace the Cross of Jesus but refuse to embrace their own cross. "Deny yourselves and follow me," Jesus said.

They want a social gospel. One that's easy and doesn't require anything of them but showing up. In Snyder's analogy, they want to write a screenplay their way, ignoring the rules of Hollywood, and expect success.

The screenwriter thinks he has something unique and new. But he doesn't. I see this with authors too. Just like Believers of Christ think in 2011 we have to come up with something new and different to pitch the Gospel to the world without knowing the true Gospel of old. (I'm talking Acts and Revelation, not 1850s)

Snyder writes that the more a screenwriter knows about the old movies, the genres, and what the studios want, the more he learns the craft, the greater chance he has of selling his screenplay.

Hmm.. could it be that the more we know the Word, the more we saturate our lives in prayer, the more we embrace the Cross of Christ in all aspects of our lives, the more chance we have of showing the Gospel to the world.

We don't win them by being like them. We when them by being like Jesus.

My take away is to ask Jesus to increase so I can decrease. I want to be more like Him and waaayyy less like myself.