Green with Envy

(Enjoy this devotion from my soon-to-be-released book, Paws for Reflection (from DaySpring)

Delilah, the little Yorki-Poo, was Mama’s little baby. She slept in the bed with Mama, rode in the car with her to the park, and even shared nibbles of her yummy people food.

Then, along came Roscoe, the Golden-Doodle. That giant oaf came lumbering into Delilah’s life and tried to flip things upside-down! Would you believe he actually thought he could steal Mom’s affections?

Wait! He was stealing her affections! Mom patted him on the head and called him “baby boy” and scratched him behind his ears. What was up with that?

Delilah couldn’t help herself. She snarled and snapped at Roscoe whenever he came near Mom. Surely he would learn his lesson eventually. He’d keep his distance.

Turned out, the one who needed to learn the lesson was Delilah. It took some time for the jealous pup to figure out that Roscoe was here to stay. She finally curbed her envy and welcomed him as a friend.

Maybe you can relate. You’ve earned the favor of your boss. . .or your teacher. . .or a group of friends. You’ve been chosen time and time again to lead the Bible study group at church or sing the solo in the church choir. Now a “Roscoe” has come along and you’re not the favored child anymore. You’ve had to move aside to make room for the new kid in town. . .and you’re not having it.

It’s time for a heart-check, sister! There’s no room for jealousy with God’s girls. Lay it down and let someone else have her turn. In fact, celebrate her moment with genuine heartfelt joy. You’ll win a friend for life and become a little more like Jesus in the process.

No envy here, Lord! I’m going to celebrate the victories of the other women in my life. Thank You for that reminder. Amen.

The Hills are Alive. . .with Messages from On High!

I’m a city girl. Really, more of a suburbanite, I guess you’d say. Give me a house on a small patch of land—big enough for the dogs—and I’m a happy gal. What’s more, I’m perfectly content living in the flatlands of SE Texas, where the only hills are overpasses. (I know, I know. . .some of you are cringing!) Every now and again, though, I love to widen my scope, to see beyond my own backyard. I had the opportunity to do just that when I traveled to the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference a couple of weeks back. Yep, that’s right. This city girl went to the mountains. Well, more like hills. With redwood trees. And cherry blossoms. And cabins. Lots and lots of cabins.

Now, I don’t want to lead you to believe that I had to rough it on this adventure. These cabins are gorgeous, completely decked out with all the modern amenities. I settled into my home-away-from-home with much anticipation. I couldn’t wait to see what God would do as pre-conference activities got underway. I didn’t have to wait long. Within my first few hours, I’d met all six ladies in my mentoring clinic. We bonded at once. In fact, we bonded at such a deep level that we decided to stick together in an online group until we can reconnect in person next year. We prayed together, cried together, learned together, and watched in awe as the Lord moved in our midst.

When the pre-conference activities ended, the ‘real’ conference kicked off. I consider myself blessed because I was chosen by my good friend and conference director Kathy Ide to mentor in Susan Meissner’s major morning track. I was also tickled to teach two classes of my own, one on Facebook marketing and another on characterization (the Pandora’s Box method). Liz Curtis Higgs was our keynote speaker in the evening services and she blew me away, particularly in light of what she’s facing in her personal life right now. I was also deeply touched by Allen Arnold’s teaching the final night. To say I had the time of my life at Mount Hermon would be an understatement. God really met me there, and what He had to say has shaped where I’m headed next.

So, what did He say? I don’t want to bore you with the backstory, but the past couple of years have been rough. Most of you know that I lost my mother after years of being her full-time caregiver. Since then, I’ve just been coasting along, not allowing myself to really latch on to anything with the same amount of zeal as before. I’m currently attending a Grief Share group, which has helped a lot, but I knew God had more to say. At the conference, the Lord really began to deal with me about digging deeper—with my writing, my prayer/worship time, and even at my church, (where I’ve also been coasting). The specific words God gave me were “Lock down.” In my mind’s eye, I could see a clamp. . .clamping shut.

No more floating. No more skimming the surface. No more ‘just getting by.’ God began to ask me hard questions, like: “What are you DOING with your life?” Not, “What do you WANT to do?” or “What do you PLAN to do?” or even “What do you feel CALLED to do?” He kept asking, “What are you doing. . .NOW?”

Wow. For someone who’s only been keeping her head above water, this was quite a question. So, I’ve made a decision to keep my eyes on the prize, to work smarter, not harder, to finish what I’ve started, and to remain diligent, as best I’m able. You—my sweet readers—probably won’t notice much difference. This transformation is more internal than external. You’ll still see me producing novels, non-fiction devotionals, and even magazine articles. I’m also going to forge ahead with The Happy Writer, a youTube site to encourage writers. In fact, I’m going to take that a step further and develop a teaching/mentoring group, where I’ll teach/lead 10 – 12 writers over a six-week period in a Facebook group. If you’re interested in this program (which will have a price tag attached) just let me know. Details are being ironed out as I type this.

God met me in the mountains. Okay, hills. I have a renewed sense of purpose and vision for the journey ahead. He also surprised me in one more lovely way—I received a special honor on awards night: the Pacesetter award, (sponsored by editor-turned-agent Nick Harrison). I was blown away, but even more excited to be sitting with my mentoring group when the news broke. We celebrated together.

I’ll end this note by asking you the same question the Lord has been asking me: “What are you doing with your life?” Instead of responding, “Well, one day I’d like to do this,” or “Someday I plan to do that,” stop and ask yourself, “Why not today?”

Be blessed, all!

The Day the Mountain Crumbled

It start out like any other day:
Bake a multi-tiered cake as a gift for a local foster kids’ ministry. Construct the cake. Load the cake in the back of the SUV. Headed to venue.

What started out as ordinary ended up as anything but when I made a (slow, carefully-executed) left-hand turn onto the feeder of the Grand Parkway.

I heard the crash and my heart sank. I could immediately picture the beautiful four-tiered Frozen/winter-themed cake smashed to bits in the back of my vehicle. I pulled into the nearest parking lot and opened the rear of my SUV to discover the top three tiers had separated from the bottom and were laying on their side. My winter mountain had crumbled, and there was nothing I could do about it. The children at the apartment complex would never see the cake I’d spent hours working on for their Christmas party.

Or, would they?

As I stared at the mess in front of me, I realized the top three tiers were probably repairable. I’d have to turn the car around and head home to tackle the job, but I had plenty of time. Showing up with a smaller cake wouldn’t really be that big of a deal, anyway. When I arrived home, I decided the bottom cake might also be fixable, so I filled a big hole with buttercream (Shh! Don’t tell!) and stuck the stairs and toy figures on top. Voila!

When I arrived at the venue a short time later, the kids were delighted with my two cakes. They never knew (or cared) that my original masterpiece had crumbled. Instead, they dove in and ate cake. . .and lots of it!

Maybe that’s how the New Year has kicked off for you. Maybe you built “mighty mountains” in your mind for 2018. Maybe you’ve already witnessed some crumbling. Never fear! God can take our messes and turn them into messages. Just add buttercream and serve with a smile!

The Miracle of Martha’s Vineyard

As a consummate cruiser and lover of all things coastal, I’ve visited many scenic locales over the years. From the breathtaking teal waters of Grand Cayman to the sparkling pink sands of Bermuda, I thought I’d seen it all. Still, nothing could have prepared me for what I witnessed firsthand during an impulsive three-day getaway to Martha’s Vineyard this past fall.

In many ways, I did not choose the Vineyard; it chose me. I certainly had no prior attachment to this quaint island, short of news stories about the rich and famous who vacationed there. In fact, I’d never even been to Boston, its near neighbor to the north. When I was blessed with the opportunity to write one of the books in the Mysteries of Martha’s Vineyard series I couldn’t resist a little research trip. What a trip it turned out to be!

By way of backstory, I am a full-time caregiver for my mother, 81, who has Alzheimer’s, stage six. We live in the Houston area, a galaxy far, far away from Martha’s Vineyard. Mom has always loved to see the world and, until this past summer, was my ever-faithful traveling companion. By the fall, however, her condition had deteriorated to the point where I knew she couldn’t handle the trip. Family members offered to care for her while I slipped away for three days of R&R with my good friend and fellow author, Crystal Barnes.

Turns out, Crystal’s skills far exceed book work. She excels in the art of navigation and served as the perfect sidekick to guide me to the various locations on the island. We started with the lighthouse at West Chop in the town of Tisbury. As I stared at the romantic storybook cottage nestled under the shadow of the impressively tall lighthouse, I dreamed of what it would be like to live in such a place. I could almost picture my characters traveling from room to room in this cozy house. From the craggy shore just beyond the cottage, I took note of the sunlight rippling off of the expansive waters of the harbor. They set the imagination to flight. What would it be like, I wondered, to enjoy that view every day? To travel the narrow, winding streets of the Vineyard, canopied by arching trees overhead?

Crystal and I made it our task to visit every lighthouse on the island. Many are over 100 years old and have stood the test of time. The storms of life have not taken them down, though a couple are weathered in appearance. These sturdy structures served as a reminder that my situation back at home, no matter how difficult, would not leave me upended. With God giving me his strength, his tenacity, I could shine my light as brightly as ever, no matter how tough the storm. The winds, though ferocious at times, would not take me down.

Crystal and I journeyed through the interior of the island, rich with farmland. Here, we almost forgot we were even on an island. The twisting road straightened out, and served as a reminder that even in the very center of my situation God could give me the ability to forget the jagged edges and focus on the straight and narrow path He had placed before me.

This comfortable road emptied out on the island’s far west end where we witnessed the most startling view yet, the Gay Head cliffs at Aquinnah. There we located our final lighthouse, completely different in color from all of the others. While the others rose pristine and white, this one stood dark and foreboding.

From the magnificent scenic overlook, we caught our first glimpse of the waters below, where the Vineyard Sound converged with the Atlantic Ocean. We could literally see the spot where the water changed colors at the point of their seamless merger. Neither was muddied by the other. Each body of water had a beauty all its own. Yet, in their intertwining, the point of intersection, the waters took on a color that simply defied explanation.

Not that we wanted our gaze to linger for long. There was far too much to see on the other side: a grassy perch tipping out onto rugged cliffs that hovered over a breathtaking white sand beach, begging for footprints.

In this majestic spot, I could literally feel God’s presence. I could picture Him at creation, his fingertip carving out the picturesque cliffs, the whisper of his breath causing ocean waves to rise. If the God of creation could make something beautiful out of all of this with just a word, just a touch, what could He do in my life? If He could take two bodies of water and merge them into one, could he somehow merge the carefree years of my pre-caregiver life with the overwhelming burdens of my current situation? Would He choose to craft them into a scene as beautiful as the one in the waters below?

Crystal and I traveled from Aquinnah back to Tisbury where we had lunch at the sweetest little bakery I’d ever seen. I knew this place would have to play a role in my story, and so it has. There we nibbled on yummy sandwiches and sweet treats as we scrolled through our photos, sighing all the while.

We hated to leave the island but had to board our ferry by mid-afternoon. As we pulled away from this special island, I was overcome by feelings I’ve never before experienced. How could you love a place you’d never even known until now? Suddenly, I could hardly wait to get back to Martha’s Vineyard.

In the months since returning to Texas, God has shown me that the message of Martha’s Vineyard was much more than I once thought. He is teaching me that this season of my life, difficult as it might be, can be filled with as many exquisite memories as those I carried away from the island. I never pictured myself visiting Martha’s Vineyard. Likewise, I never anticipated being a caregiver to someone whose memory is as foggy as the morning skies over the cliffs at Aquinnah. But God, with just a whisper, will guide me through each jagged place. And this miraculous journey I’m currently taking with the woman who gave me birth, will, I would imagine, overwhelm me with unexpected points of beauty, much like those I experienced on Martha’s Vineyard, an island that forever holds a special place in my heart.

Love is in the Air!

Love is meant to be share year-round, but there’s something about the month of February that puts us in the mood to share that love in a special way. For some (like myself) gift-giving includes homemade sweets (cookies, cakes, and cupcakes). For others: cards, gifts, and lots of quality time.

I’m very excited about February, and not just because I get to bake over 500 Valentine’s cookies for customers. (Yes, you read that right.) I’m excited, because I’ve come up with a delightful way to share love with you, my readers.

I’m hosting a giveaway on my Facebook author page! A special drawing will take place on the final day of February, but you can join the fun, starting February 1st. Every day I will be posting a new, fun question from one of my books. Answer that question and your name will be entered into the drawing. It’s that simple.

What will I be giving away? That’s the fun part! I’ll be giving away two dozen hand-painted, airplane-shaped sugar cookies. Yum! 

Why a plane, you ask? Because I’m celebrating the release of my latest multi-author collection, Love is in the Air, which just released on kindle. Grab your copy while the collection is just 99 cents.

Can’t wait to hang out with you on my Facebook author page. How sweet it is, y’all!