Our Pal died suddenly Tuesday night. He was in the office with me and Lola, the cutie-patootie I found walking down the road last February, while I was writing. I heard a commotion on the floor and when I looked around, Pal had slid over to the sling back chair, stiff, as if having a seizure.
I jumped up to comfort him, and tried to figure out what was going on, what I could do to help. If it was a seizure, I figured he'd get through it in a minute or so.
Then he howled like he was in pain and was gone. I grabbed the phone to call Tony, and Pal sort of choked and gagged, and vibrated so I thought he was coming around. But it was just the last of his body quitting. In recalling the events, and talking it over with Tony, and my paramedic brother, Pete, I think Pal was gone by the time I turned around to see what was going on.
For those who knew and experienced Pal, he was an irritating dog, but we truly loved him. He was fun, loving, and loved to play. He took Lola under his "wing" when she joined the family. With all the rain of late, I'd been letting him splash through puddles on our walks and he loved it.
So, Jesus has a new dog in heaven. I told Pal to say hey to Jack (his dad,) Blue and our old family dog, Bonnie.
I sat on the floor with him, crying, stroking his still warm and soft head, telling him we loved him and he was a good dog. Funny, even if he was still alive, he wouldn't have really understood, but it comforted me.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Goodbye to you my trusted friend, Pal
Our Pal died suddenly Tuesday night. He was in the office with me and Lola, the cutie-patootie I found walking down the road last February, while I was writing. I heard a commotion on the floor and when I looked around, Pal had slid over to the sling back chair, stiff, as if having a seizure.
I jumped up to comfort him, and tried to figure out what was going on, what I could do to help. If it was a siezure, I figured he'd get through it in a minute or so.
Then he howled like he was in pain and was gone. I grabbed the phone to call Tony, and Pal sort of choked and gagged, and vibrated so I thought he was coming around. But it was just the last of his body quitting. In recalling the events, and talking it over with Tony, and my paramedic brother, Pete, I think Pal was gone by the time I turned around to see what was going on.
For those who knew and experienced Pal, he was an irritating dog, but we truly loved him. He was fun, loving, and loved to play. He took Lola under his "wing" when she joined the family. With all the rain of late, I'd been letting him splash through puddles on our walks and he loved it.
So, Jesus has a new dog in heaven. I told Pal to say hey to Jack (his dad,) Blue and our old family dog, Bonnie.
I sat on the floor with him, crying, strokiing his still warm and soft head, telling him we loved him and he was a good dog. Funny, even if he was still alive, he wouldn't have really understood, but it comforted me.
I jumped up to comfort him, and tried to figure out what was going on, what I could do to help. If it was a siezure, I figured he'd get through it in a minute or so.
Then he howled like he was in pain and was gone. I grabbed the phone to call Tony, and Pal sort of choked and gagged, and vibrated so I thought he was coming around. But it was just the last of his body quitting. In recalling the events, and talking it over with Tony, and my paramedic brother, Pete, I think Pal was gone by the time I turned around to see what was going on.
For those who knew and experienced Pal, he was an irritating dog, but we truly loved him. He was fun, loving, and loved to play. He took Lola under his "wing" when she joined the family. With all the rain of late, I'd been letting him splash through puddles on our walks and he loved it.
So, Jesus has a new dog in heaven. I told Pal to say hey to Jack (his dad,) Blue and our old family dog, Bonnie.
I sat on the floor with him, crying, strokiing his still warm and soft head, telling him we loved him and he was a good dog. Funny, even if he was still alive, he wouldn't have really understood, but it comforted me.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Hurricane Fay
It's a gloomy, Yankee day in central Florida. Hurricane Fay is moving across the state and expected to exit over our county.
There's rain with wind gusts, but I've seen worse. The power went out for a few hours. When I saw the FPL guy coming to fix the thingy-bob, I opened the window and cheered! He deserved to be celebrated for serving on a day like today.
I mean, the city closed, the schools... it's sort of ridiculous. But, if there's a lot of rain and expected flooding, it's better not to be on the roads.
Yet, we've gotten to be a people who over react, are too cautious. We're afraid of being accused. No one stand up for themselves.
We survived back to back hurricanes in '04. The state ran beautifully. People were helped as fast as possible. Truly, it was a minor annoyance.
But then Katrina hit New Orleans the game of blame ensued. Be sure, Katrina didn't destroy New Orleans. It was only a cat 3 storm when she went ashore. It was the broken, weak levies that damaged the city. it was the crime and the looting. Levies that should've been repaired by the city. Crime that should've been curtailed by the police.
Evacuation routes should've been used by the many school buses just sitting. The Times Picayune even reported on the state of emergency if a hurricane should hit the city, years before Katrina.
The problems with New Orleans was not FEMA, or George Bush, or the worst storm in human history, it was the local and state government. It was a welfare-state mentality. I saw a woman on the news crying, "You're supposed to take care of us."
But no one spoke out. Still, no one says the truth.
Tony and I have evacuated twice. We did not wait on the government or anyone to tell us what to do. We watched the news and said, "She doggy, let's get out of here."
Yet, for those in need, we must have compassion -- no matter whose fault it is. We should give of our time and resources to care for our neighbor. And we should get the picture that depending on the government to feed and shelter us is never good! Let's take care of ourselves, and help one another.
All I want my central government to do is protect our borders, guard our freedoms, and fight enemies both foreign and domestic. Perhaps help maintain fair labor laws without taxing the companies or the people to death.
At times, it seems like our government should be simple. But, I guess I'm wearing my rose colored glasses today. The more a presidential candidate says, "I'm going to do..." this and this, that and the other, the more I go, "Nope, not voting for you. Out of my knickers!"
Peace out.
There's rain with wind gusts, but I've seen worse. The power went out for a few hours. When I saw the FPL guy coming to fix the thingy-bob, I opened the window and cheered! He deserved to be celebrated for serving on a day like today.
I mean, the city closed, the schools... it's sort of ridiculous. But, if there's a lot of rain and expected flooding, it's better not to be on the roads.
Yet, we've gotten to be a people who over react, are too cautious. We're afraid of being accused. No one stand up for themselves.
We survived back to back hurricanes in '04. The state ran beautifully. People were helped as fast as possible. Truly, it was a minor annoyance.
But then Katrina hit New Orleans the game of blame ensued. Be sure, Katrina didn't destroy New Orleans. It was only a cat 3 storm when she went ashore. It was the broken, weak levies that damaged the city. it was the crime and the looting. Levies that should've been repaired by the city. Crime that should've been curtailed by the police.
Evacuation routes should've been used by the many school buses just sitting. The Times Picayune even reported on the state of emergency if a hurricane should hit the city, years before Katrina.
The problems with New Orleans was not FEMA, or George Bush, or the worst storm in human history, it was the local and state government. It was a welfare-state mentality. I saw a woman on the news crying, "You're supposed to take care of us."
But no one spoke out. Still, no one says the truth.
Tony and I have evacuated twice. We did not wait on the government or anyone to tell us what to do. We watched the news and said, "She doggy, let's get out of here."
Yet, for those in need, we must have compassion -- no matter whose fault it is. We should give of our time and resources to care for our neighbor. And we should get the picture that depending on the government to feed and shelter us is never good! Let's take care of ourselves, and help one another.
All I want my central government to do is protect our borders, guard our freedoms, and fight enemies both foreign and domestic. Perhaps help maintain fair labor laws without taxing the companies or the people to death.
At times, it seems like our government should be simple. But, I guess I'm wearing my rose colored glasses today. The more a presidential candidate says, "I'm going to do..." this and this, that and the other, the more I go, "Nope, not voting for you. Out of my knickers!"
Peace out.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
This is for you, Lisa
Lisa commented on my last post she's crunched to get her lesson plans ready for the school year, then asked, "How do you handle things when a deadline is staring you in the face, Rachel?"
Well, Lisa, I do what you do. Freak. Eat chocolate, drink Diet Coke, run out for a sandwich. Pray. A lot. I always start out calm, but some where along the line I'm overwhelmed with the details, or insecurities. "Who will want to read this book?" Or, "I'm letting my editor and publisher down."
I hate worrying, I hate losing sleep. I try to work steadily to meet my daily word count, but sometimes now matter how much I write and work, the story isn't coming out right. I've learned to trust the Lord, and my editors. My strength is rewriting, so having words on the page gives me something to work with, and helps my confidence.
I try to focus on Jesus, His light and love in and around me. I figure if I'm in Him, then the stories are in Him and He cares about the book and characters as much as I do, probably more.
After I turned in Love Starts With Elle my editor summarized her view of my work in her editorial letter and those enlightening and encouraging words still resonate in my heart. Writers, at least this writer, doubts their ability to write one more good book. "I did it once, but I can't do it again."
But the same Spirit that hovered over the deep and formed the earth lives in me. (Romans 8) So why can't I get better? Why not?
It's all about faith. Being confident I'm doing what God destined me to do and He'll see me through to the end! Isaiah 41:13.
Well, Lisa, I do what you do. Freak. Eat chocolate, drink Diet Coke, run out for a sandwich. Pray. A lot. I always start out calm, but some where along the line I'm overwhelmed with the details, or insecurities. "Who will want to read this book?" Or, "I'm letting my editor and publisher down."
I hate worrying, I hate losing sleep. I try to work steadily to meet my daily word count, but sometimes now matter how much I write and work, the story isn't coming out right. I've learned to trust the Lord, and my editors. My strength is rewriting, so having words on the page gives me something to work with, and helps my confidence.
I try to focus on Jesus, His light and love in and around me. I figure if I'm in Him, then the stories are in Him and He cares about the book and characters as much as I do, probably more.
After I turned in Love Starts With Elle my editor summarized her view of my work in her editorial letter and those enlightening and encouraging words still resonate in my heart. Writers, at least this writer, doubts their ability to write one more good book. "I did it once, but I can't do it again."
But the same Spirit that hovered over the deep and formed the earth lives in me. (Romans 8) So why can't I get better? Why not?
It's all about faith. Being confident I'm doing what God destined me to do and He'll see me through to the end! Isaiah 41:13.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Sweet Caroline strikes again
Found out Sweet Caroline hit the CBA Best seller list for September. This is different that the ECPA best seller list. Not sure how the numbers are calculated or pulled, but good for Caroline.
If you're curious, go back a year or so in my postings and you can read the behind the scenes of Sweet Caroline and how God blessed and provided.
If you're curious, go back a year or so in my postings and you can read the behind the scenes of Sweet Caroline and how God blessed and provided.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
A man named Brett Bush
I was eighteen, out of high school having graduated six months early, and doing nothing much but working and hanging out. Riding horse.
(That confession rendered another hilarious Hubby-Rachel moment. A few weeks ago I said, "Yeah, I graduated, hung out, worked a lot, rode horses." "You rode horses." He arched one brow because he has that talent. "Yeah, couple of days a week." "Really? Cause I've ridden horses with you and--" "Oh stop." But I laughed!)
During those months, I worked at Publix and hung around with some fun north Florida rednecks. I met a guy named Brett Bush. He drove one of those itty-bitty Chevy Love trucks. Remember those? He'd been out of town for awhile, doing who-knows-what and where, but came home to find his girlfriend had moved on.
So, in effort to do the same, he asked me out. Okay. Not my type, but he was fun. He wanted to take me to his grandparents farm in Quincy or some place, so we're tooling along in his truck and he rants about his last encounter with his ex.
"So, I walk in and she say's nothing. Not so much as a by-your-leave or kiss my a$$."
His expression, inflection, hillbilly accent, phrasing had me laughing all the way to the farm. Then he decided to four-wheel it through a pond (no, Chevy Love trucks were not four wheel) and we sank, but that's another story.
Here's the thing about Brett Bush. Nearly 30 years after this afternoon together, and it was only an afternoon sans romantic feelings, his expressions show up in my writing.
I write, "without so much as" in each book. When I do, I think of Brett Bush.
A moment in my life, forever impressed on my soul.
How many people do we have like this touching us? Why do I remember a man's name I spent less than a few months socializing with, but can't remember a chum from college?
It's those impressions. Who have you and I impressed unaware? Is someone quoting me right now. Or reminiscing about Ohio State with, "Then Rachel Hayes said..."
We're paint brushes on the hearts and minds of everyone we come in contact with. Are we painting beauty or pain?
I want to be a Brett Bush to others. Lingering with them long after I've pass through their lives, leaving behind the fragrance of Jesus and the hope of His calling. If I reach some moderate success, I've honored Him who my soul loves.
(That confession rendered another hilarious Hubby-Rachel moment. A few weeks ago I said, "Yeah, I graduated, hung out, worked a lot, rode horses." "You rode horses." He arched one brow because he has that talent. "Yeah, couple of days a week." "Really? Cause I've ridden horses with you and--" "Oh stop." But I laughed!)
During those months, I worked at Publix and hung around with some fun north Florida rednecks. I met a guy named Brett Bush. He drove one of those itty-bitty Chevy Love trucks. Remember those? He'd been out of town for awhile, doing who-knows-what and where, but came home to find his girlfriend had moved on.
So, in effort to do the same, he asked me out. Okay. Not my type, but he was fun. He wanted to take me to his grandparents farm in Quincy or some place, so we're tooling along in his truck and he rants about his last encounter with his ex.
"So, I walk in and she say's nothing. Not so much as a by-your-leave or kiss my a$$."
His expression, inflection, hillbilly accent, phrasing had me laughing all the way to the farm. Then he decided to four-wheel it through a pond (no, Chevy Love trucks were not four wheel) and we sank, but that's another story.
Here's the thing about Brett Bush. Nearly 30 years after this afternoon together, and it was only an afternoon sans romantic feelings, his expressions show up in my writing.
I write, "without so much as" in each book. When I do, I think of Brett Bush.
A moment in my life, forever impressed on my soul.
How many people do we have like this touching us? Why do I remember a man's name I spent less than a few months socializing with, but can't remember a chum from college?
It's those impressions. Who have you and I impressed unaware? Is someone quoting me right now. Or reminiscing about Ohio State with, "Then Rachel Hayes said..."
We're paint brushes on the hearts and minds of everyone we come in contact with. Are we painting beauty or pain?
I want to be a Brett Bush to others. Lingering with them long after I've pass through their lives, leaving behind the fragrance of Jesus and the hope of His calling. If I reach some moderate success, I've honored Him who my soul loves.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Okay, just for fun, just for pretend
What else would you like to do in life? If you could do anything, and do it well, what would you do? I'm talking, you, right now, with all your same life experiences. Same family, so town, same friends, same journey. No, you're not suddenly daughter or son of Prince Charles. Or Bill Gates.
You're you. And if some how, in some wild and crazy way, you could do anything else in life you wanted along with knowledge and expertise, what would it be?
Here's mine.
I'd love to do something with Ohio State Football. I'd like to have enough knowledge to be like, you know, assistant wide receiver coach, or work with the defense, growl something like, "Let's play smash mouth football!" Grrrrr!
In a smaller scale, coach Pop Warner football with Tony. I just love the game. I love the strategy and drill, the challenge of winning. The thrill of offense, the determination of defense.
When we watch football in the fall, the best part is watching the plays unfold and how they are designed to defend, or to score and win. Though I've never played, and I don't think it's a sport of women on field, I'd love to help develop plays, and break down game film.
I'm really good at observing others, noticing unusual or odds things. I catch habits or routines. I have an intuition about people, and the why's of life. Not always, but a lot of times. I think I'd like the mental challenge of figuring out our opponent and beating them.
So, that's my if-you-could-go-through-a-worm-hole dream.
But in real life, I'm so amazingly lucky to do what I do. Write books. It's really, really a dream, a childhood desire and goal. I'm so blessed.
I have a great husband. I can't say enough about him. I come from wonderful, loving, God-loving parents. My brothers and sister are cool, loving siblings even though we don't get to see each other as much as we like. Yeah, I'm not discounting our humanity. We ain't perfect. But, when I gaze over my life, there's nothing I'd change.
Unlike the message being touted by people like Eckhart Tolle and Elizabeth Gilbert, i didn't just think my life into being. I didn't will myself into a good marriage or dream job.
I surrendered my way into it.
Coming out of college, I knew there are so many options in life, so many detours, ways to go right, ways to go wrong. I said, "Lord, I'll make the wrong decisions. At least I have a huge capacity for making the wrong decisions. You take my life. Use me how, when and where You want."
This I knew, God is love, God is good and if I'm in Him, I'll be content. That's what I wanted. One, to be completely surrendered to Him because at the end of my life, being surrendered to me isn't going to gain me a dern thing. And, I wanted to be content and happy, knowing during the good and bad, God was in control.
I do what I do because He gave me the desires of my heart and as I pursued Him, He fulfilled them. I'm confident that when I stand before Him at the end of the age, i pursued the things He asked of me. I'll have enough other things to answer for, I don't need my overall life unaccounted for!
If you don't know Jesus, you should. He's awesome. Real. Love. Amazing.
You're you. And if some how, in some wild and crazy way, you could do anything else in life you wanted along with knowledge and expertise, what would it be?
Here's mine.
I'd love to do something with Ohio State Football. I'd like to have enough knowledge to be like, you know, assistant wide receiver coach, or work with the defense, growl something like, "Let's play smash mouth football!" Grrrrr!
In a smaller scale, coach Pop Warner football with Tony. I just love the game. I love the strategy and drill, the challenge of winning. The thrill of offense, the determination of defense.
When we watch football in the fall, the best part is watching the plays unfold and how they are designed to defend, or to score and win. Though I've never played, and I don't think it's a sport of women on field, I'd love to help develop plays, and break down game film.
I'm really good at observing others, noticing unusual or odds things. I catch habits or routines. I have an intuition about people, and the why's of life. Not always, but a lot of times. I think I'd like the mental challenge of figuring out our opponent and beating them.
So, that's my if-you-could-go-through-a-worm-hole dream.
But in real life, I'm so amazingly lucky to do what I do. Write books. It's really, really a dream, a childhood desire and goal. I'm so blessed.
I have a great husband. I can't say enough about him. I come from wonderful, loving, God-loving parents. My brothers and sister are cool, loving siblings even though we don't get to see each other as much as we like. Yeah, I'm not discounting our humanity. We ain't perfect. But, when I gaze over my life, there's nothing I'd change.
Unlike the message being touted by people like Eckhart Tolle and Elizabeth Gilbert, i didn't just think my life into being. I didn't will myself into a good marriage or dream job.
I surrendered my way into it.
Coming out of college, I knew there are so many options in life, so many detours, ways to go right, ways to go wrong. I said, "Lord, I'll make the wrong decisions. At least I have a huge capacity for making the wrong decisions. You take my life. Use me how, when and where You want."
This I knew, God is love, God is good and if I'm in Him, I'll be content. That's what I wanted. One, to be completely surrendered to Him because at the end of my life, being surrendered to me isn't going to gain me a dern thing. And, I wanted to be content and happy, knowing during the good and bad, God was in control.
I do what I do because He gave me the desires of my heart and as I pursued Him, He fulfilled them. I'm confident that when I stand before Him at the end of the age, i pursued the things He asked of me. I'll have enough other things to answer for, I don't need my overall life unaccounted for!
If you don't know Jesus, you should. He's awesome. Real. Love. Amazing.
Saturday, August 09, 2008
Oh what a fun wedding reception
Elizabeth, me, Carrie, Tony and Sheree.
Tony and me being clowning around.
Our good friend Javier, pastor and worship leader extraordinaire also moonlighting as DJ for the wedding. I dedicated Diva Nashvegas to him. He's married to gorgeous Brenda.
Friday, August 08, 2008
08.08.08
On 7.7.'77, I was sixteen, working at Publix in Cutler Ridge, FL.
One of the bag boys, Ronny Paul, said today is 7.7.'77 and noted how many years it would be before we had 8.8.'88, and 9.9.'99 and now it's 8.8.08.
What's in a number anyway?
Here's what I wrote in my diary on July 7, '77.
"Today is 7,7,'77 - cute uh? When I woke up I kind of felt the twangs of leaving but soon under control. Spent the day packing and etc. LR's car broke down at the house and Steve Emmens and friend came to tow it away. Work was OK. Blocked down most of the night. Not much else. Love, Rachel -n- Pete."
We were moving in a few weeks to Tallahassee from Homestead. It was a sad yet good thing in my life, the family's life. LR is my friend Lorena Rastrick Sikking. Pete was my boyfriend at the time.
Today my life is very different. I'm not sixteen, I'm not living with my parents or facing a major move. I don't have two years of high school left, nor the years ahead of college and training that comes with growing up and becoming an adult.
But I knew God had a plan for me. If anything in my life has ever been blessed, on the right track or redeemed, it's because God had a plan for me.
My life is charmed in many ways. We're not rich, nor famous (though I did meet a reader last night and she actually was awe-struck for about ten seconds. Even Tony and her granddaughter noticed.)
We have missed out on the blessing of children, but are so cocooned in the heart and will of God I literally have no complaints. I am as Paul admonishes, "content." Well, minus the political landscape of my country, and the cultural war, but that's for another time.
I'm writing on a really fabulous project with a co-author and it's going so great, so far. We had a call yesterday with Thomas Nelson and when I hung up, I just thought, "Thank you, Lord. You are too good to me. This is truly unmerited favor."
Tonight we have a wedding, two former youth marrying. It'll be fun and I'm really happy for them.
Well, off to work some before wedding festivities.
One of the bag boys, Ronny Paul, said today is 7.7.'77 and noted how many years it would be before we had 8.8.'88, and 9.9.'99 and now it's 8.8.08.
What's in a number anyway?
Here's what I wrote in my diary on July 7, '77.
"Today is 7,7,'77 - cute uh? When I woke up I kind of felt the twangs of leaving but soon under control. Spent the day packing and etc. LR's car broke down at the house and Steve Emmens and friend came to tow it away. Work was OK. Blocked down most of the night. Not much else. Love, Rachel -n- Pete."
We were moving in a few weeks to Tallahassee from Homestead. It was a sad yet good thing in my life, the family's life. LR is my friend Lorena Rastrick Sikking. Pete was my boyfriend at the time.
Today my life is very different. I'm not sixteen, I'm not living with my parents or facing a major move. I don't have two years of high school left, nor the years ahead of college and training that comes with growing up and becoming an adult.
But I knew God had a plan for me. If anything in my life has ever been blessed, on the right track or redeemed, it's because God had a plan for me.
My life is charmed in many ways. We're not rich, nor famous (though I did meet a reader last night and she actually was awe-struck for about ten seconds. Even Tony and her granddaughter noticed.)
We have missed out on the blessing of children, but are so cocooned in the heart and will of God I literally have no complaints. I am as Paul admonishes, "content." Well, minus the political landscape of my country, and the cultural war, but that's for another time.
I'm writing on a really fabulous project with a co-author and it's going so great, so far. We had a call yesterday with Thomas Nelson and when I hung up, I just thought, "Thank you, Lord. You are too good to me. This is truly unmerited favor."
Tonight we have a wedding, two former youth marrying. It'll be fun and I'm really happy for them.
Well, off to work some before wedding festivities.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Laughter part two
Hubby has always made me laugh. We were friends for several years before we were married, and while he is an introvert and claims to have the emotional range of a "cow," he's also very funny.
His humor is on the dry, slightly sarcastic side and comes from life observations.
When I was growing up, my brother Danny developed a "pet" voice. He talked for the animals, mostly the cats. If one of us was petting the cat, Danny would say in this modified voice, "I bite, and I bite hard." Or, "I'm gonna bite you."
It was pretty funny. So, after Tony and I were married, we acquired a few pets and this family tradition in my background surfaces. Pretty soon, we were both talking to the animals. We'd actually have 3 or 4 way conversations going on between us. Me and Tony talking to the cat and/or dog and then one of us answering for said animal.
We'd make up songs "from" them, play games. One time Hubby had the cat on the bed and pretended to pay hide and seek with our dog, Jack. He put Red's paws over his eyes and counted, "One, two, free... Ready or not, here I come."
At the precise moment Hubby removed the paws from Red's eyes, dog Jack walked past the bed and Red leaned over as if to say, "I found you."
Hubby said something like, "Stupid dog, can't even hide."
We laughed so hard. So hard. Some of the songs we made up were pretty funny, but I can't remember them.
One Christmas someone from church gave us a big box of chocolates. I only like the caramel filled kind, not the the coconut or raspberry or whatever. So, I pinched all the bottoms to find the ones I wanted. Hubby comes home to find all the chocolates slightly wreck. Of course he knows I did it, but he looked at me and said, "Hey, someone gave us defective chocolates."
Or something like that, but it was absolutely funny. Some times the smallest things are the funniest.
Back to the pets, my brother Joel lived with us for awhile, so he became a fifth voice in the house. One time he was sitting on the couch with Hubby. In between them was Red, the cat. Now, Red is staring at the ceiling. So, Joel looks up. Then looks at the cat. Cat looks up, Hubby looks up. Joel looks back to the cat, who is now looking at Hubby. Very quietly Joel says in his pet voice, "Ha, ha made you look."
We laughed for days, off and on.
One year Hubby did a dating and sex series for the youth that concluded with him demonstrating the need for boundaries with Barbie and Ken riding in a Barbie car. It was awesome, very funny, and to this day, a youth legend.
Hubby makes me laugh. I could sit here for days thinking of things and jotting them down. There was the time he wrapped a pair of sneakers he bought me for Christmas in separate boxes because I like to open a lot of gifts. That was clever and funny, however ruled insufficient for the present rule and therefore banned.
Anyway, laughter is good.
Now, I've also cracked myself up a bunch of times. While writing, while observing life, thinking of things, reading. Author Marian Keyes had me laughing so hard in one of her books I had too put it down.
One night I was reading Calvin and Hobbs before going to bed. Watterson had penned this bit about Christmas, the parents up all night putting together presents. Upstairs, Calvin and Hobbs are waiting anxiously for Santa. They hear a bump and a bang, terrified and excited, they conclude it's Santa bring all Calvin's loot. The last frame of the strip is the dad, holding his toe, hopping around uttering comic cuss words, "Sassin, frassin, ramalma ding dong."
I laughed so hard, it just felt so much like a real life scene, I woke up the next morning feeling the residuals of the laughter.
Ah, sweet laughter.
Oh, reading Paul Reiser's book "Couplehood" got me good, as did George Burns's and Jerry Seinfeld's.
Come on, today's a good day to laugh!
His humor is on the dry, slightly sarcastic side and comes from life observations.
When I was growing up, my brother Danny developed a "pet" voice. He talked for the animals, mostly the cats. If one of us was petting the cat, Danny would say in this modified voice, "I bite, and I bite hard." Or, "I'm gonna bite you."
It was pretty funny. So, after Tony and I were married, we acquired a few pets and this family tradition in my background surfaces. Pretty soon, we were both talking to the animals. We'd actually have 3 or 4 way conversations going on between us. Me and Tony talking to the cat and/or dog and then one of us answering for said animal.
We'd make up songs "from" them, play games. One time Hubby had the cat on the bed and pretended to pay hide and seek with our dog, Jack. He put Red's paws over his eyes and counted, "One, two, free... Ready or not, here I come."
At the precise moment Hubby removed the paws from Red's eyes, dog Jack walked past the bed and Red leaned over as if to say, "I found you."
Hubby said something like, "Stupid dog, can't even hide."
We laughed so hard. So hard. Some of the songs we made up were pretty funny, but I can't remember them.
One Christmas someone from church gave us a big box of chocolates. I only like the caramel filled kind, not the the coconut or raspberry or whatever. So, I pinched all the bottoms to find the ones I wanted. Hubby comes home to find all the chocolates slightly wreck. Of course he knows I did it, but he looked at me and said, "Hey, someone gave us defective chocolates."
Or something like that, but it was absolutely funny. Some times the smallest things are the funniest.
Back to the pets, my brother Joel lived with us for awhile, so he became a fifth voice in the house. One time he was sitting on the couch with Hubby. In between them was Red, the cat. Now, Red is staring at the ceiling. So, Joel looks up. Then looks at the cat. Cat looks up, Hubby looks up. Joel looks back to the cat, who is now looking at Hubby. Very quietly Joel says in his pet voice, "Ha, ha made you look."
We laughed for days, off and on.
One year Hubby did a dating and sex series for the youth that concluded with him demonstrating the need for boundaries with Barbie and Ken riding in a Barbie car. It was awesome, very funny, and to this day, a youth legend.
Hubby makes me laugh. I could sit here for days thinking of things and jotting them down. There was the time he wrapped a pair of sneakers he bought me for Christmas in separate boxes because I like to open a lot of gifts. That was clever and funny, however ruled insufficient for the present rule and therefore banned.
Anyway, laughter is good.
Now, I've also cracked myself up a bunch of times. While writing, while observing life, thinking of things, reading. Author Marian Keyes had me laughing so hard in one of her books I had too put it down.
One night I was reading Calvin and Hobbs before going to bed. Watterson had penned this bit about Christmas, the parents up all night putting together presents. Upstairs, Calvin and Hobbs are waiting anxiously for Santa. They hear a bump and a bang, terrified and excited, they conclude it's Santa bring all Calvin's loot. The last frame of the strip is the dad, holding his toe, hopping around uttering comic cuss words, "Sassin, frassin, ramalma ding dong."
I laughed so hard, it just felt so much like a real life scene, I woke up the next morning feeling the residuals of the laughter.
Ah, sweet laughter.
Oh, reading Paul Reiser's book "Couplehood" got me good, as did George Burns's and Jerry Seinfeld's.
Come on, today's a good day to laugh!
Friday, August 01, 2008
Drum roll please.... And now, Rachel Hauck....
... Bestselling author!
I'm stunned but the August EPCA Bestseller List came out today and Sweet Caroline hit #5 on the Fiction list and #17 on the overall list.
Thanks to everyone who purchased a copy of Sweet Caroline!
Also, check out Jill Eileen Smith's blog today. I'm her guest.
I'm stunned but the August EPCA Bestseller List came out today and Sweet Caroline hit #5 on the Fiction list and #17 on the overall list.
Thanks to everyone who purchased a copy of Sweet Caroline!
Also, check out Jill Eileen Smith's blog today. I'm her guest.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Do you remember laughing so hard...
There are times in my life I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe. I laughed so hard that if I recall those moments now, years, perhaps decades later, I smile, maybe even chuckle.
Can you remember those moments in your life? Laughter is so important heart. Proverbs tell us a merry heart works like medicine.
I thought I'd recall the top laugh times in my life and hopefully inspire some of you. Leave your stories in the comments if you want. :)
Family
We laughed a lot in my family. A top laugh time would be watching my dad's big but silent laugh as he listened to Bill Cosby's "Roland and the Rollercoaster." I loved hearing my parents laugh with their friends, which they did a lot.
Here are my own personal laugh times:
Playing the game Pente with my youngest brother and sister, Pete and Beka, during college Christmas break. I was cheating, and when Pete finally realized... He gazed up at me, appauled and said, "You're cheating." I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe!
Went to see an Eddie Murphy movie with my brother Danny. Eddie was doing a bit about whining to his mom to take him to McDonalds like all the other kids. She said, "I can make you a burger at home." He goes on to describe the scene. Danny and I were laughing so hard, because you know, we'd heard the same conversation from our Mom and Grandma, we couldn't breathe. Danny was gripping my arm, stamping his foot, laughing, hoping to draw air soon.
Sharing a room with my sister Beka about twenty years ago when I'd just graduated from Ohio State. We were talking about writing, (she was in high school,) and I said I didn't want to write some cheesy story like, "and we turned twelve cartwheels into the fullness of an oak tree." We burst out laughing! Laughed and laughed. We still quote that line today.
There are many other laugh moments, worthy of blogging, but those are the ones that stick out to me.
Friends
Laughter for me usually comes with an element of surprise, the non-obvious, perhaps the blatant obvious, the humor in every day events.
My roommate pre Tony, Renee was a mentor to a girl from youth who hung out at the apartment sometimes, Sheree. She was the quiet type. Seriously quiet. One night she was at our apartment while Renee, Tony and I were debating who among us was the funniest. I said, "I'm the funniest person you know."
Renee claimed she was, countered by Tony. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the silent-for-hours Sheree said softly, "I'm the funniest person you know."
We howled and at that very moment, it was true! She was the funniest person we knew.
Wow, nothing else is rising to the surface of my brain and I know I laughed a lot with friends. Suzanne, Kathy, Connie and Michelle.
Okay, here's one. The summer before I graduated from Ohio State, Connie Snider Gleason and I did nothing but laugh. We both worked on the newspaper as photographers. She came in one day telling me a story about spotting one of our fellow photographers, Rich, out looking for a feature photo. We were required to turn in so many for the quarter. As she tells the story, he was walking down High Street, camera around his neck, looking up in the trees, turning circles, as if the feature photo might just drop on his head. Oh, we laughed so hard! So very hard.
Spent some time at the Flying Tomato, a local pizza place right by the Phi Mu house, and laughed a whole bunch.
Work
Many, many laughing stories from work. I joined Harris Publishing now Media Span in '86. There were a few new grads who joined at the same time and we hung out some in the beginning. Sometimes we'd travel together.
Julie Love and I went to Martha's Vineyard to install a classified advertising system. We worked and laughed a lot. What else can you do on Martha's Vineyard in early December?
For awhile, all the trainers and roadies were in the engineering department. We'd have quarterly meetings where the team was updated on... whatever. The Veep of Engineering was a nice man from India. He had a deep voice, and the standard English-Indian accent.
So, we're all gathered in a board room, stuffed in there like sardines, when the director of engineering gets up to present. Now, this was pre Power Point, so graphs and data were displayed with an overhead projector. It gets embarrassing for me here. D of E slips his presentation under the projector. Immediately it's obvious he didn't account for any enlargement of the projector and used a point size too big. I mean, the letters showing on the screen were half as tall as he was!
We all smiled, giggled, wondered silently, "What point size did you use, Jim." This goes on for about two, three minutes when in the midst of Jim's review, the Veep of Engineering says in his deep, accented voice, "Gee Jim, what point size did you use."
We all laughed, but I lost it. Could. Not. Stop. Laughing. I tried, but ended up snorting. My boss whispered, "Do you need to leave the room." I pinched my laugh, shook my head and kept my eyes focused on the table. The girl sitting next to me said, "Oh, don't look up."
Snort, laugh, snort, laugh! I wanted to go out of the room and let it go so bad, but I couldn't. I mean, it's the '80s, it's Yuppiville, you can't act THAT unprofessional. Oooo, it was funny, and ooo it was embarrassing. But I love the memory.
In '88 Harris sent me Down Under to do some training in Australia. (Hi, Rel!) I love Australia. I'd visit more if it weren't so darn far away... and if I had some money.
In Sydney, I met with our distributor and my Australian counterpart, Sean. New to the job, Sean was nervous about our trip to Tamworth and the training, but I assured him all would be well. Sean had a very dry, but witty sense of humor.
Day one on the job, I laughed and laughed. Out of the blue stuff, but so funny. Like, this big, tall, lumbering man who worked on the system we were training, comes up to Sean and asked, "I can't remember, how do I get into the system tables again?"
They started discussing, and the man says, "Yes, I remember it's alt, control, delete." He beamed, so proud. Next day, he couldn't remember so he's asking Sean again. Very dryly, Sean says, "I want you to remember, never forget, alt, control, delete."
Really, you had to be there, and there's a middle piece I'm forgetting, but I laughed so hard I had to leave the room and put myself in a corner.
Walking back to our hotel from the paper, Sean grouses how his cheap boss wouldn't rent us a car, going on about having Burger King for "tea." I fell to the sidewalk, laughing.
I'd lay in bed and night, laughing out loud over the things Sean said or did that day.
A few months later, I went back to Australia, (looong back to back trips me no like) this time going to a trade show in Melbourne. Again, Sean is very nervous about demoing the equipment to newspaper suits, so we practice and work on technique. I show him how to do certain things, like free drawing an arrow to use in a display ad, or whatever.
During one of my demos, I pulled up the saved, sketched arrow, showing how it could be used in a display ad, but also how it could be modified. Basically, I mess up the arrow. Demo over, Sean's up next, but I don't tell him I destroyed the arrow.
He pulls up the arrow. What's wrong with it? He panics, deletes it from the screen and pulls is up again. Still messed up! He panics. And he sweats when he panics.
Next demo, it's me again and he's sitting beside me. As I pull up the lopsided arrow, I lean over to Sean, "Oh yea, I messed up the arrow."
"Now you tell me... I thought the system had eaten it."
In front of five dark suits from Rural Press, I start to laugh. But I can't laugh, I have to do a demo. The more I try not to laugh, the hard I want to laugh and the moment I pictured a panicked Sean, my torso is full of explosive laughter.
I flew through the last of the demo, got up, ran to the break room, fell on the little couch and laughed for oh, fifteen minutes.
Yeah, Mr. Mason made me laugh. Still does 20 years later.
To be continued.... more work laughter, and husband laughter tomorrow!
Can you remember those moments in your life? Laughter is so important heart. Proverbs tell us a merry heart works like medicine.
I thought I'd recall the top laugh times in my life and hopefully inspire some of you. Leave your stories in the comments if you want. :)
Family
We laughed a lot in my family. A top laugh time would be watching my dad's big but silent laugh as he listened to Bill Cosby's "Roland and the Rollercoaster." I loved hearing my parents laugh with their friends, which they did a lot.
Here are my own personal laugh times:
Playing the game Pente with my youngest brother and sister, Pete and Beka, during college Christmas break. I was cheating, and when Pete finally realized... He gazed up at me, appauled and said, "You're cheating." I laughed so hard I couldn't breathe!
Went to see an Eddie Murphy movie with my brother Danny. Eddie was doing a bit about whining to his mom to take him to McDonalds like all the other kids. She said, "I can make you a burger at home." He goes on to describe the scene. Danny and I were laughing so hard, because you know, we'd heard the same conversation from our Mom and Grandma, we couldn't breathe. Danny was gripping my arm, stamping his foot, laughing, hoping to draw air soon.
Sharing a room with my sister Beka about twenty years ago when I'd just graduated from Ohio State. We were talking about writing, (she was in high school,) and I said I didn't want to write some cheesy story like, "and we turned twelve cartwheels into the fullness of an oak tree." We burst out laughing! Laughed and laughed. We still quote that line today.
There are many other laugh moments, worthy of blogging, but those are the ones that stick out to me.
Friends
Laughter for me usually comes with an element of surprise, the non-obvious, perhaps the blatant obvious, the humor in every day events.
My roommate pre Tony, Renee was a mentor to a girl from youth who hung out at the apartment sometimes, Sheree. She was the quiet type. Seriously quiet. One night she was at our apartment while Renee, Tony and I were debating who among us was the funniest. I said, "I'm the funniest person you know."
Renee claimed she was, countered by Tony. Suddenly, out of nowhere, the silent-for-hours Sheree said softly, "I'm the funniest person you know."
We howled and at that very moment, it was true! She was the funniest person we knew.
Wow, nothing else is rising to the surface of my brain and I know I laughed a lot with friends. Suzanne, Kathy, Connie and Michelle.
Okay, here's one. The summer before I graduated from Ohio State, Connie Snider Gleason and I did nothing but laugh. We both worked on the newspaper as photographers. She came in one day telling me a story about spotting one of our fellow photographers, Rich, out looking for a feature photo. We were required to turn in so many for the quarter. As she tells the story, he was walking down High Street, camera around his neck, looking up in the trees, turning circles, as if the feature photo might just drop on his head. Oh, we laughed so hard! So very hard.
Spent some time at the Flying Tomato, a local pizza place right by the Phi Mu house, and laughed a whole bunch.
Work
Many, many laughing stories from work. I joined Harris Publishing now Media Span in '86. There were a few new grads who joined at the same time and we hung out some in the beginning. Sometimes we'd travel together.
Julie Love and I went to Martha's Vineyard to install a classified advertising system. We worked and laughed a lot. What else can you do on Martha's Vineyard in early December?
For awhile, all the trainers and roadies were in the engineering department. We'd have quarterly meetings where the team was updated on... whatever. The Veep of Engineering was a nice man from India. He had a deep voice, and the standard English-Indian accent.
So, we're all gathered in a board room, stuffed in there like sardines, when the director of engineering gets up to present. Now, this was pre Power Point, so graphs and data were displayed with an overhead projector. It gets embarrassing for me here. D of E slips his presentation under the projector. Immediately it's obvious he didn't account for any enlargement of the projector and used a point size too big. I mean, the letters showing on the screen were half as tall as he was!
We all smiled, giggled, wondered silently, "What point size did you use, Jim." This goes on for about two, three minutes when in the midst of Jim's review, the Veep of Engineering says in his deep, accented voice, "Gee Jim, what point size did you use."
We all laughed, but I lost it. Could. Not. Stop. Laughing. I tried, but ended up snorting. My boss whispered, "Do you need to leave the room." I pinched my laugh, shook my head and kept my eyes focused on the table. The girl sitting next to me said, "Oh, don't look up."
Snort, laugh, snort, laugh! I wanted to go out of the room and let it go so bad, but I couldn't. I mean, it's the '80s, it's Yuppiville, you can't act THAT unprofessional. Oooo, it was funny, and ooo it was embarrassing. But I love the memory.
In '88 Harris sent me Down Under to do some training in Australia. (Hi, Rel!) I love Australia. I'd visit more if it weren't so darn far away... and if I had some money.
In Sydney, I met with our distributor and my Australian counterpart, Sean. New to the job, Sean was nervous about our trip to Tamworth and the training, but I assured him all would be well. Sean had a very dry, but witty sense of humor.
Day one on the job, I laughed and laughed. Out of the blue stuff, but so funny. Like, this big, tall, lumbering man who worked on the system we were training, comes up to Sean and asked, "I can't remember, how do I get into the system tables again?"
They started discussing, and the man says, "Yes, I remember it's alt, control, delete." He beamed, so proud. Next day, he couldn't remember so he's asking Sean again. Very dryly, Sean says, "I want you to remember, never forget, alt, control, delete."
Really, you had to be there, and there's a middle piece I'm forgetting, but I laughed so hard I had to leave the room and put myself in a corner.
Walking back to our hotel from the paper, Sean grouses how his cheap boss wouldn't rent us a car, going on about having Burger King for "tea." I fell to the sidewalk, laughing.
I'd lay in bed and night, laughing out loud over the things Sean said or did that day.
A few months later, I went back to Australia, (looong back to back trips me no like) this time going to a trade show in Melbourne. Again, Sean is very nervous about demoing the equipment to newspaper suits, so we practice and work on technique. I show him how to do certain things, like free drawing an arrow to use in a display ad, or whatever.
During one of my demos, I pulled up the saved, sketched arrow, showing how it could be used in a display ad, but also how it could be modified. Basically, I mess up the arrow. Demo over, Sean's up next, but I don't tell him I destroyed the arrow.
He pulls up the arrow. What's wrong with it? He panics, deletes it from the screen and pulls is up again. Still messed up! He panics. And he sweats when he panics.
Next demo, it's me again and he's sitting beside me. As I pull up the lopsided arrow, I lean over to Sean, "Oh yea, I messed up the arrow."
"Now you tell me... I thought the system had eaten it."
In front of five dark suits from Rural Press, I start to laugh. But I can't laugh, I have to do a demo. The more I try not to laugh, the hard I want to laugh and the moment I pictured a panicked Sean, my torso is full of explosive laughter.
I flew through the last of the demo, got up, ran to the break room, fell on the little couch and laughed for oh, fifteen minutes.
Yeah, Mr. Mason made me laugh. Still does 20 years later.
To be continued.... more work laughter, and husband laughter tomorrow!
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Let Them Eat Cake by Sandra Byrd
Please welcome my friend and author, Sandra Byrd! She has a wonderful chickmance I was proud to endorse, and Let Them Eat Cake was a finalist in this year's Christy Awards!
…Chick-lit never tasted so good! LET THEM EAT CAKE is one of those rare chick lit novels that integrates faith elements without being preachy, and includes plenty of romance without it being the only point of the protagonist's existence. . .
Five star review, faithfulreader.com
About the book!
Lexi Stuart is at a critical crossroads. She's done with college but still living at home, ready to launch a career but unable to find a job, and solidly stalled between boyfriends.
When a lighthearted conversation in French with the manager of her favorite bakery turns into a job offer, Lexi accepts. But the actual glamour is minimal: the pay is less than generous, her co-workers are skeptical, her bank account remains vertically-challenged, and her parents are perpetually disappointed. Her only comfort comes from the flirtatious baker she has her eye-but even may not be who he seems to be!
So when a handsome young executive dashes into the bakery to pick up his high profile company's special order for an important meeting-an order Lexi has flubbed– she loses her compulsion to please. "What am I going to do?" he shouts.
"Let them eat cake!" she fires back with equal passion and a nod to Marie Antoinette. And then, something inside Lexi clicks. Laissez la revolution commencer! Let the revolution begin! Instead of trying to fulfill everyone else's expectations for her life, Lexi embarks on an adventure in trusting God with her future–tres bon!
About Sandra:
Best selling author Sandra Byrd married the country boy who accepted her dare to eat escargot, and lives with him and their two children in Seattle, Washington. She's published nearly three dozen books in the Christian market including her latest series, French Twist, which includes Let Them Eat Cake (2007) and Bon Appetit (September, 2008). Most of her other books are for the Young Adult market, and she's published a book for new moms, Heartbeats.
Many of Sandra's shorter works appear in periodical markets such as Relevant, Clubhouse Magazine, Pockets, Decision, and Guideposts.
For the past seven years Sandra has shared her secrets with the many students she mentors through the Christian Writer's Guild. Before turning to full time writing, Sandra was an acquisitions editor in the ABA market.
Sandra's first submission - and rejection - was at age 12.
Recipe Alert!
Boyfriend Bait Beef Stroganoff
1 1/2 pounds beef tenderloin, well trimmed, meat cut bite-sized pieces (about 1” square)
4 tablespoons (3/4 stick) butter
1/2 cup finely chopped shallots
2 ½ cups sliced mushrooms
2 cups canned beef broth
3 tsp corn starch
1 cup sour cream
2 tsp Dijon mustard
Over medium high heat, gently sauté beef tenderloin in 2 tablespoons of butter for about 2 minutes, till just seared on all side. You’ll still be able to see red. Remove from pan and set aside in a rimmed dish or baking sheet so you collect the juices.
Over medium high heat, sauté shallots and mushrooms in remaining butter until soft and wilted, about 5 minutes. Mix corn starch into cold beef broth, whisk to blend. Pour into pan, and stir together with shallots and mushrooms till thickened, two or three minutes.
Add sour cream and mustard, stir to blend. Add beef and juices from dish; stir over medium just till warmed through. Sauce will coat but not be overly thick. Serve immediately over noodles or white rice, salt to taste.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Book Clubs
I love book clubs. There's a resurgence of them these days - as well as things like knitting clubs. I met a fifteen year old girl who loved to knit.
Tonight I was honored to join a book club who'd read Sweet Caroline. It was fun to meet and talk about the book, hear how the reader interpreted relationships and scenarios. It put me in a whole different mind set of considering how different readers are, and their responses.
I can't write to that, I'd go crazy, but I can work to find unique angles. I love discussing a book after it's done. How it came about, why I made the decisions I made in writing or rewriting it.
This book club was a kind, smart group of women. Hopefully I'll have some pictures in a few days.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Dignity in Death
Allison Wilson and I drove up to Kristy Dykes funeral yesterday. It's always good to spend time with Allison, but we were both looking forward to Kristy's home going ceremony.
Unfortunately, we arrived late due to the keen-o feature of her husband's Porsch-a 911. Automatically lock the doors if the key is not in the ignition. The fact that the keys were in the driver's seat made no difference. Yes, we were locked out of the car sixty-three miles south of Jacksonville.
Nevertheless, the part of the ceremony we did participate in was so sweet, and infused with the presence of God. I teared up many times. Not so much of missing Kristy, although that is part of it, but because the Spirit of God, the Love of God permeated the room.
For about a minute, I physically felt jealous of Kristy. She's with Jesus!!
For me, and I'm sure many of the hundreds at the service, and those who witnessed her life and death on the blog, she reminded me of the way I want to live. In doing so, reminded me of the way I want to die. With dignity, with the love I have for Jesus infecting thousands.
How am I spending my time? What am I doing with my money and my words? How am I loving people? At the end of my life, those things are the only things that really matter.
You know how I'm convinced Kristy knew and loved the God-Man Jesus? Because in her dying, in her weak-conscious moments she worshipped Him, she radiated His love, she knew and experience His grace and peace.
The most impactful moment for me was when Milton told Kristy right before she died, "You won, Kristy, you won!"
Every time I hear or read those words, I cry. But it's deeper than what Milton proclaimed over Kristy. It's what Jesus is proclaiming over us, His Bride.
In out dying, beloved, we win! Die to self, you win. Die for Jesus, figuratively or literally, you win!!
"I run the race in order to win the prize."
Unfortunately, we arrived late due to the keen-o feature of her husband's Porsch-a 911. Automatically lock the doors if the key is not in the ignition. The fact that the keys were in the driver's seat made no difference. Yes, we were locked out of the car sixty-three miles south of Jacksonville.
Nevertheless, the part of the ceremony we did participate in was so sweet, and infused with the presence of God. I teared up many times. Not so much of missing Kristy, although that is part of it, but because the Spirit of God, the Love of God permeated the room.
For about a minute, I physically felt jealous of Kristy. She's with Jesus!!
For me, and I'm sure many of the hundreds at the service, and those who witnessed her life and death on the blog, she reminded me of the way I want to live. In doing so, reminded me of the way I want to die. With dignity, with the love I have for Jesus infecting thousands.
How am I spending my time? What am I doing with my money and my words? How am I loving people? At the end of my life, those things are the only things that really matter.
You know how I'm convinced Kristy knew and loved the God-Man Jesus? Because in her dying, in her weak-conscious moments she worshipped Him, she radiated His love, she knew and experience His grace and peace.
The most impactful moment for me was when Milton told Kristy right before she died, "You won, Kristy, you won!"
Every time I hear or read those words, I cry. But it's deeper than what Milton proclaimed over Kristy. It's what Jesus is proclaiming over us, His Bride.
In out dying, beloved, we win! Die to self, you win. Die for Jesus, figuratively or literally, you win!!
"I run the race in order to win the prize."
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
See you soon, Kristy
Friend and author Kristy Dykes graduated to the next life yesterday. Her husband blogs about it here.
Kristy was a shining spot to so many of us writers. A cheerleader, an exhorter. You can see from Milton's writings she was a loving, kind, spunky wife and mother.
Mostly she loved Jesus and reflected His light with a passion. Cancer took Kristy in this life, but has no power where she is now.
In juxtaposition, I occasionally follow a blog by another woman struggling with cancer. This woman does not know Jesus. In the course of her journey, her husband left her, she's sick, broke and alone. Bitter.
Watching two people struggle and die in cyberspace was a unique experience, but watching one who loves Jesus compared to one who doesn't, was sad. I feel for the latter. "Jesus, reveal yourself."
We will all miss Kristy. "Friend, see you very soon. We'll start a writing group that will last for eternity!"
Thank you Milton and family for being such a great example of Christian charity and exposing the inner heart of Kristy.
Friday, July 18, 2008
Plagiarism, or a simple, common phrase
So, I'm reading The Great Gatsby (by F. Scott Fitzgerald for those of you who live in a hole ;) and came across this dialog exchange between Mrs. Wilson an her neighbor, Mrs. McKee:"I like your dress," remarked Mrs. McKee, "I think it's adorable."
Mrs. Wilson rejected the compliment by raising her eyebrow in disdain. "It's just a crazy old thing," she said. "I just slip it on sometimes when I don't care how I look."
I stopped reading, grinning. I know that line. Almost word for word, perhaps down to the raised eyebrow. Do you know it? Haven't you heard this line before?
Let me refresh your memory.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Bailey."
"Hello, Violet. Hey, you look good. That's some dress you got on there."
"What! This old thing? Why I only wear it when I don't care how I look."
Now do you remember? It's an exchange between George Bailey and Violet Bicks from It's A Wonderful Life, adapted from The Greatest Gift by Phillip Van Doran Stern.
Did Stern lift from Fitzgerald? The Great Gatsby was published in 1925 and touted as one of the great books of it's time, of our time.
Stern wrote The Greast Gift in the late '30s, first published after the movie in the mid-40s.
It's not inconceivable that a woman would say, "I just wear this dress when I don't care who I look."
But the similarities are striking between the movie dialog and the scene in Gatsby. I even think Violet Bicks flips up an eyebrow when she addressed George. She flips her hair for sure.
The tone is different. Mrs. Wilson's is more of indifference while Violet is clearly flirting. But otherwise... hmm. ;)
Perhaps Stern didn't write the line in his novel, perhaps it's the work of an unnamed screenwriter. Perhaps an ad-lib by the actress.
Just goes to show, there's nothing really new under the sun.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Healing well
Thanks to all the kind comments about my cold-thing. I'm feeling better. Still vocally weak and raspy, but the throat swelling and pain is gone.
TMI? Moving on, right...
Worked on my new book today. I have this cool program, Scrivener, a true author tool for Macs. I've never found author tools to be much help, but this one makes organizing thoughts and plotting easy. You can color code and label index cards per point of view, or whatever. You can even write the book in Scrivener then export to Word.
So, I'm having fun.
I really wanted a cool opening line. I've become particular about them. They should, IMHO, reflect the theme or some point of the story. And, thanks to Jesus, i did come up with a great opening line. That was enough to get me going through the opening scenes.
Yesterday I outlined as much of the books as possible - beginning, middle and end - but we shall see if I have enough or too much story. I never know until I get into the book if I need to more research or character development.
Love Starts With Elle is doing well, I think. That's to all who blogged and/or reviewed. It just came out and is already in a second printing!
Look on my home page to see the book trailer.
More later!
TMI? Moving on, right...
Worked on my new book today. I have this cool program, Scrivener, a true author tool for Macs. I've never found author tools to be much help, but this one makes organizing thoughts and plotting easy. You can color code and label index cards per point of view, or whatever. You can even write the book in Scrivener then export to Word.
So, I'm having fun.
I really wanted a cool opening line. I've become particular about them. They should, IMHO, reflect the theme or some point of the story. And, thanks to Jesus, i did come up with a great opening line. That was enough to get me going through the opening scenes.
Yesterday I outlined as much of the books as possible - beginning, middle and end - but we shall see if I have enough or too much story. I never know until I get into the book if I need to more research or character development.
Love Starts With Elle is doing well, I think. That's to all who blogged and/or reviewed. It just came out and is already in a second printing!
Look on my home page to see the book trailer.
More later!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Okay...
I'm sick. Yes. I have some kind of soar throat, no voice thing going on and it happens every time I go to a conference or writer's event.
Well, almost happens every time. What up?
I'm getting a little better, but still sluggish and not in favor of talking much. Maybe that's a good thing. I'd rather be known for what I don't say than what I do say.
It's hard to keep quiet, not speak, hold the tongue, keep our opinion to ourselves. I've been working on this lately and find that I feel "empowered" when I remain in check, quiet, thoughtful.
One, keeping quiet is often respecting others, letting them speak. Two, most of us just plain ole talk too much and we're not really saying anything.
I want to be effective with my speech as well as my writing. I had an encounter with God about taming my sarcasticness. Let me tell you, I haven't forgotten it, and have been on a journey to speak well and wise for many, many years.
Most of you are thinking, "Rachel, we must speak up. We have to stand against evil."
Yes, we do. We must be vocal about abortion and sin-that-runs-amuck in our country. But we have never really taken the time to learn to love. Our words are often as lifeless and fruitless as our counterparts.
They are speaking wind, and so are we.
What is God doing and saying?
I was speaking with author and pastor Randy Alcorn today and he told of a talk he gave at a Bible school. His opening line was a quote from Hebrews, but he spoke without the reference. He asked how many believed his statement. "All will face the judgment seat of Christ, giving account of all his deeds, good or bad." (Rachel translation.)
Only two people out of about 150 raised their hand. Two. When he clarified chapter and verse, then asked again, "who believes this is true?" only half raised their hands.
If we are going to claim and cling to Christ, we should know Him. Lose the notion it's not possible to know God. It is possible. Not in His entirety and completeness, but more than enough for me and you, and the human spirit.
Anyway, I say all that to remind myself the beauty of silence. Letting the weightiness of God seep in to my soul.
Well, almost happens every time. What up?
I'm getting a little better, but still sluggish and not in favor of talking much. Maybe that's a good thing. I'd rather be known for what I don't say than what I do say.
It's hard to keep quiet, not speak, hold the tongue, keep our opinion to ourselves. I've been working on this lately and find that I feel "empowered" when I remain in check, quiet, thoughtful.
One, keeping quiet is often respecting others, letting them speak. Two, most of us just plain ole talk too much and we're not really saying anything.
I want to be effective with my speech as well as my writing. I had an encounter with God about taming my sarcasticness. Let me tell you, I haven't forgotten it, and have been on a journey to speak well and wise for many, many years.
Most of you are thinking, "Rachel, we must speak up. We have to stand against evil."
Yes, we do. We must be vocal about abortion and sin-that-runs-amuck in our country. But we have never really taken the time to learn to love. Our words are often as lifeless and fruitless as our counterparts.
They are speaking wind, and so are we.
What is God doing and saying?
I was speaking with author and pastor Randy Alcorn today and he told of a talk he gave at a Bible school. His opening line was a quote from Hebrews, but he spoke without the reference. He asked how many believed his statement. "All will face the judgment seat of Christ, giving account of all his deeds, good or bad." (Rachel translation.)
Only two people out of about 150 raised their hand. Two. When he clarified chapter and verse, then asked again, "who believes this is true?" only half raised their hands.
If we are going to claim and cling to Christ, we should know Him. Lose the notion it's not possible to know God. It is possible. Not in His entirety and completeness, but more than enough for me and you, and the human spirit.
Anyway, I say all that to remind myself the beauty of silence. Letting the weightiness of God seep in to my soul.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
From A Distance, by Tamera Alexander
Please welcome friend and fellow author, Tamera Alexander. Tammy and I have known each other since our pre-pubbed days and I'm loving all God is doing with her writing. She's lovely inside and out.
Tammy's penned another fabulous historical for Bethany House. Be sure to check it out.
About "From A Distance"What happens when dreams aren't what you imagined, and secrets you've spent a lifetime guarding are finally laid bare?
Determined to become one of the country's premier newspaper photographers, Elizabeth Westbrook travels to the Colorado Territory to capture the grandeur of the mountains surrounding the remote town of Timber Ridge. She hopes, too, that the cool, dry air of Colorado, and its renowned hot springs, will cure the mysterious illness that threatens her career, and her life.
Daniel Ranslett, a former Confederate sharpshooter, is a man shackled by his past, and he'll do anything to protect his land and his solitude. When an outspoken Yankee photographer captures an image that appears key to solving a murder, putting herself in danger, Daniel is called upon to repay a debt. He's a man of his word, but repaying that debt will bring secrets from his past to light.
Forced on a perilous journey together, Daniel and Elizabeth’s lives intertwine in ways neither could have imagined when first they met . . . from a distance.
". . . a rich historical romance by possibly the best new writer in this subgenre."
- - Library Journal
". . . a most amazing story. The characters are more than words on the page; they become real people."
- - Romantic Times
Catching up with Tamera. . .
Tamera Alexander is a bestselling novelist whose deeply drawn characters, thought-provoking plots and poignant prose resonate with readers.
Tamera is a finalist for the 2008 Christy Award (Remembered), and has been awarded the coveted RITA from Romance Writers of America (Revealed), along with Library Journal's Top Christian Fiction of 2006 (Rekindled).
Having lived in Colorado for seventeen years, she and her husband now make their home in the quaint town of historic Franklin, Tennessee, where they enjoy life with their two college-age children and a precious - and precocious - silky terrier named Jack.
A Note from Tamera:
Stories are journeys, and each story I write is a journey for me.
Rekindled began with a dream - the image of a man returning home on horseback. He came upon a freshly dug grave and when he knelt to read the name carved into the roughhewn wooden cross, he discovered the name was. . . his own.
The inspiration for Revealed grew from two characters in Rekindled whose stories needed to be told. But even more, whose stories I needed to tell. Writing Revealed was a very personal journey for me, and a healing one.
For Remembered, I met that story's heroine (figuratively, of course) while strolling the ancient cobblestoned pathways of a three hundred-year-old cemetery in northern Paris, France.
And From a Distance came from a question I was struggling with in my own life at the time, "What happens when the dream you asked God for isn't what you thought it would be?"
For me, the greatest thrill of these writing journeys is when Christ reveals Himself in some new way, and I take a step closer to Him. And my deepest desire is that readers of my books will do that as well - take steps closer to Him as they read. After all, it's all about Him.
In the Potter's Hand,
Tamera
First chapter link:
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