Sara R. Turnquist's Blog, page 23

GRIEF: A Unique Story

What does that title mean exactly? I mean grief and grieving are as old as the world, right? From the minute Adam and Eve lost their son Abel to his murderous sibling’s anger, there has been grief.

Wait…take that back. Perhaps even one could say from the moment sin entered the world, the open communion with God was broken, man had to toil for food, and woman had great pain in childbirth (come on, ladies, you hear me). Perhaps that was when grief entered the picture.

But certainly not when it showed up at my door.

Yet, that is exactly what I am telling you.

Your grief is unique. Your pain is not only real, it is different than any pain anyone has felt.

As much as it is the same.

One of the things that I absolutely abhor that we do to ourselves, is that we rationalize our emotions….especially our pain and grief.

“there are worse things” “I’m not as bad off as         ”

“I should be grateful for what I have”

The fact that others may have it worse, does not (listen to me), DOES NOT diminish YOUR experience of YOUR pain.

The fact that there are many good things in your life does NOT diminish the hurt you feel over your LOSS even as much as these blessings may comfort you. And I firmly believe that our God is big enough and understanding enough to give you that: space for your grief all the while knowing that it does not mean you aren’t also grateful for His goodness.

Your pain is your pain.

It is important that you give yourself the space, time, and moments to sit in your grief. To lean into your grief even. If you stuff and deny it…it will create a bitterness that eats you up.

And remember, God understands loss…perhaps better than we realize. He gave His only Son. Turned Him over to die a criminal’s death. God turned His back on His suffering Son while He died, forsook Him. So, God has experienced that kind of pain.

I say this, not so you will compare your pain. Please don’t. But to encourage you that He does get it.

In your realm and breadth of experience, you have your set of emotions. To what extent you have known loss is unique to you. Don’t discount your knowledge of it and feelings because you think you shouldn’t feel that way or that you should “be over it by now”. Or anything else that someone else tells you. Let you be you. Deal with it as it comes to you. And know that you are coming to a place of “new normal”…not trying to return to the way things were. That life is gone. Yet another reason to mourn.

Come to grips with new normal as you are able.

And find peace. In your time.

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GRIEF: Fyodor Dostoyevsky quote

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INTERVIEW & GIVEAWAY: Author Lauren Brandenburg

Welcome to my Friday blog! As you know, I host authors on Fridays. And we are entering December with no exception. But with a real treat. I have author Lauren Brandenburg on today. I met Lauren through the ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers). She is the President of our local chapter, but I actually met her in Dallas at a national ACFW conference about three years ago. Lauren is a gifted writer, has a warming personality, and flawless taste. I really wish I could introduce you in person! But I know you will get a peek at how great she is through her honest interview.

Lauren is also offering a GIVEAWAY!! The details of the giveaway are below. Enjoy!!

Thanks for coming on my blog today, Lauren. First, can you tell us a little about your novel?

Orlo: The Burdened is the second book in the Books of Orlo series, which is actually the second trilogy in The Books of the Gardener. In the first book (spoiler alert!) Orlo wins a tournament allowing him access to a more extravagant lifestyle than the simple life he had as an orphan in book one. Orlo now has everything he ever wanted—the tall tower, the fine clothes, the lavish dinners, and an assignment of prestige as an inventor’s apprentice. The only piece missing is the people he once called family. With his guardian released back into the World, and her husband rumored to be lost, Orlo is now under the watchful eye of a talented, but manipulative inventor. When an unlikely artist uses his unique ability to show Orlo the Way that he has forgotten, Orlo will set out on a quest to the World to restore truth and return his household to the Conclusus.

As with all my children’s books they are appropriate for ages 8+ and are totally cringe free (no inappropriate language, relationships, etc.)

I like the sound of that (“cringe free”). Sounds like an intriguing story. Did you always want to be a writer? If not, what did you want to be when you were a child?

Oh yes! I always dreamed of being Jo March from Little Women. I also dreamed of being an archeologist, surgeon, and Solid Gold dancer (true story). But at the end of the day, I saw myself teaching and writing stories . . . and then falling in love with a man I didn’t even know I loved (just like Jo!). That all happened . . . cue “When You Wish Upon a Star”.

Love it!! You’re own fairytale come true

OVERCOMING GRIEF: What I don’t want to hear….

Hello, all. I am tackling what is a monster of a subject right now for me because I am in the midst of it. Not that depression is an easy topic to work through, but I am well into the recovery stages. I am still in the throes of grieving for my mother. She passed, suddenly, this past April. Not that an “expected” death, the kind where your loved one was sick for a while and you had received a difficult prognosis makes it easier or more fair. It doesn’t. But there is the shock factor that goes into an unexpected death.

One of the things I always tell my children about life in general is the following: when you’re having a good morning/day, is God in control? When you’re having a bad day/morning, is He still in control? Of course. Well, I know the same holds true about death and loss. But, I promise you, this may not be the time to share that with someone who has just lost a loved one. There are, in fact, many, many truths from God’s Word that are everlasting and solid that your mourning friend does really know in their core that they may not necessarily want to hear during this season of grieving.

I know, for example, that “…in all things God works for the the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28)”. And I know that “…we do not mourn as those who have no hope… (1 Thessalonians 4:13-18)” These are, again, wonderful truths from an Almighty God, but there is pretty much no way to deliver them (in my experience) where they don’t come across as platitudes, Christianese-like blabber that taunts your hurting friend.

The passages that comforted me the most were the ones that gave me permission to mourn. That, in fact gave me hope in the mourning.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Matthew 5:4

When I mourn, I am blessed? How? Because the everlasting God, through His Holy Spirit, the Great Comforter, will comfort me…as well as through the believers beside me, who are doing life with me. When I mourn, I will find comfort. What a sweet promise! What wonderful words that let me know that my tears are okay. That they are normal, and human, and…part of the process.

Another passage that speaks directly to my hurting heart:

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me,

    for the Lord has anointed me

    to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted

    and to proclaim that captives will be released

    and prisoners will be freed.

He has sent me to tell those who mourn

    that the time of the Lord’s favor has come,

    and with it, the day of God’s anger against their enemies.

To all who mourn in Israel,

    He will give a crown of beauty for ashes,

a joyous blessing instead of mourning,

    festive praise instead of despair.

In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks

    that the Lord has planted for his own glory.

Isaiah 61:1-3

I could spend all day unpacking this passage. But I won’t. What gems are here for those who are grief-stricken! He will comfort the broken-hearted. Other translations say “He will bind the broken-hearted…” I picture someone wrapping bandages around a wounded heart. And that’s exactly how I feel much of the time…that my heart is an open wound, bleeding everywhere. And I need someone who knows what they are doing to bind and heal it.

This passage goes on to say that the time of the Lord’s favor has come. This gets into the traditions and customs of the Israelites. Perhaps something for another post.

But Isaiah also tells that we, who are mourning, will receive a crown of beauty for our ashes. In these times, those in mourning would cover themselves with sackcloth and ashes…an external sign for what was happening within them. So, he is saying that God will take away all signs of their sadness and bestow upon them a tiara. And that He (God) will bless them. That we (who mourn) will have reason to praise. Now, that gives me hope. That God will take the broken pieces of my heart and exchange them for beauty, praise, and joy.

But that for now, these things that I am going through are part of the human experience. That they are part and parcel with our sinful flesh…and with the fact that sin degrades and destroys. That it will continue to degrade and destroy until God puts an end to it.

Still, though sin may have a hold on our flesh, death has lost it’s sting (1 Corinthians 15:55-57) because of Christ and what He has done.

What’s the bottom line here? For those of you who are in the grieving process, please give yourself permission to mourn. It is right. It is human.

If you are someone who has a loved one you think is just stuck in the grieving process, have patience. Not everyone moves through the stages at the same rate. Grieving is difficult. Mind your words and just be there to listen. That’s what the grieving person needs the most. Your ear and shoulder, not always your words. It’s okay if you don’t have anything to say. It really, really is.

 

 

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GRIEF ~ JRR TOLKIEN QUOTE

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INTERVIEW & SPOTLIGHT: Author Carol Roberts

Hello, all! I hope you have had a wonderful Thanksgiving (for those of you in the United States). Today, I have another author, Carol Roberts, whose background and interests have drawn her to dig a little deeper in her novels. I am super intrigued myself! Some of the questions she poses about the human condition are rather deep. And fiction is one way in which we can explore these thoughts and questions about the world around us…even if we delve into other worlds…keep reading to see what I mean…

Hey, Carol. Thanks for being on my blog today. First, can you tell us a little about your novel.

Atlantis is an interpretation of the myth, presented as a fantasy/mystery story.

When Alanthea, high-priestess of Atlantis, connects to a woman in her dreams, she becomes haunted by a warning. Compelled to trace the other woman’s life, she finds coded poems that hold clues to the predicament of her people. Now she has to venture ever farther into forbidden territory to link past and present, and understand the real danger threatening Atlantis.

Arakon always thought of himself as an orphan, a loner without any real belonging. But after a strange encounter his life changes, and he is drawn into events beyond his control.

They move parallel in their search for answers until their destinies converge, and the weave unravels. Yet what they finally uncover lies deep at the heart of collective evolution, and what has been set in motion cannot be undone.

I love all the different points of inspiration for writers…it never ceases to amaze me how the smallest things can jump start the muse. What was the inspiration for Atlantis?

I have several fields of interest. My real passion is mythology, especially stories of origin/creation. I think that mythology preserves what is important enough to have survived the ages, imbued with meaning. Leading on from there is my keen interest in psychology. What is important enough for our collective psyche to remember? And does it possibly store memory that goes back all the way to our evolution? Put together the two, and the mythical story of Atlantis started to take shape and form.

Interesting…my background is in science as well (biology). This is a very intriguing question you ask.

Did you always want to be a writer? If not, what did you want to be when you were a child?

No, I wanted to study psychology, but then decided to travel. Traveling was fascinating in terms of culture and tradition. What were those people’s stories, what did they preserve in terms of their mythology? I took a lot of notes about places and people, and my first idea of writing was to compile a non-fiction book about stories and myths from all around the world.

When did you first realize you wanted to be a writer?

The first time I knew that I needed to put pen to paper was in a tiny village called Malana high in the Himalayan mountains. My partner had wanted to photograph this village that was said to have one of the oldest democracies in existence, preserved by its isolation and disinterest in the outside world. When we finally stumbled into the village on a wet, treacherous goat track, I wanted to put all my immediate notions into words: clouds hanging low, giving the heavily timbered buildings a haunting, medieval appearance, villagers moving away from us, as all non-Malanese were considered as lower caste and untouchable, and the overriding feeling of having stepped into some eerie, timeless bubble that had preserved an incredibly original micro-culture.

Though it varies from artist to artist, something people always want to know is how long does it take to write a book?

Atlantis took a long time, as I wrote it in stages over several years. The biggest problem was the ending. There I was, creating a whole civilization, only to have it disappear under flood waters. But from myth it rose, and to myth it returned.

Now you’ve got me hooked! Tell us something about your newest release that is NOT in the blurb.

Atlantis gave me the opportunity to speculate on concepts of the human condition, the meaning of individual and collective destiny, and the choices we have in it.

How thought-provoking! Do you have any current projects you’re working on? Care to share?

I have now finished my second novel, Tower of Babel, where I am exploring the possible meaning of love in the context of evolution. This novel is romantic suspense/fantasy and only took one year to write.

Wow. This, too, sounds like one I will have to read. Thanks again, Carol, for joining me today and for being on my blog. I am eager for my readers to get a better glimpse of Atlantis. So, I will jump right in.

Atlantis

 

 

Enjoy an Excerpt

Time shifted as Arakon carefully turned and dug his heels into the horse’s side. A good horse, a strong horse, just like the old man’s had been. The shade of the trees embraced him, and the sound of the water came closer. Would he still find the track? Was there a track? Time shifted further, and he felt an eerie sensation between his shoulder blades. The forest was too quiet, the water overly loud. Gideon started to slip, and he reined the stallion in even further.

The filtered light threw strange patterns onto the ground, and when the moment came, he let go of the reins and let Gideon run. Leaves slapped him in the face, and as the noise became deafening, he could see the glistening spray which lay like a shimmering web ahead of him. Gideon shied but could not stop. They raced on until the tree-line opened up, and he could see the gorge falling away in front of him like a black, open mouth.

Buy Link

https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B0777J2MC8/

More About the Author

Carol Roberts is a free lance writer with particular interest in cultural myth. Originally from Vienna, she has spent all of her adult life in the Far North of New Zealand. Her work took her to several different countries, where she researched oral traditions of the oldest creation myths. Atlantis is her first full length novel.

Connect with Carol and her books

Newsletter: https://www.smore.com/app/pages/preview/jb2ug

Twitter:     @authorRobertsC

 

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GRIEVING

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GUEST POST & GIVEAWAY: Author Gina Holder

My Own Personal Time Machine

(Guest Post by Gina Holder)

I stepped across the damp cobblestone floor. The musty air filled my lungs as I drew a deep breath. I did nothing to hold back the tears. I stood in a place that still to this day the name alone brings a sense of foreboding. Auschwitz.

I love history! I have for as long as I can remember. I have a photo of myself with my hair braided like Laura Ingalls Wilder, one braid on each side of my head, wearing a plain old-fashioned floral dress, and trying to get a ball on a string into a cup. For my 14th birthday, I had an old-fashioned tea party (pictured). I wore a peach Victorian dress borrowed from a friend. Everyone had to wear a hat and we drank tea from china teacups. About that same time, I wanted to join a group who did Civil War reenactments. I remember meeting one of the ladies at the county fair. She said I would make a good Rose, the daughter of Rose O’Neal Greenhow, a confederate spy. I held my wedding reception at the Landon House, a Civil War plantation in Urbana, Maryland, best known for hosting the “Sabers and Roses Ball” in 1862.

Perhaps, I love history because I grew up smack dab in the middle of it. I was born in Washington, D.C., our nation’s capital city. My hometown of Frederick, Maryland, is the burial grounds of Francis Scott Key and Betsy Ross. I grew up within a half-a-day’s drive of historic locations like Gettysburg, Antietam, Williamsburg, Jamestown, Mount Vernon, and Harper’s Ferry. My favorite place to visit was the Rose Hill Manor Park and Children’s Museum, once the retirement home of Thomas Jefferson.

I’ve also visited the Alamo, Plymouth Plantation and the Mayflower, Carnton Plantation in Tennessee, the Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Fortress of Louisbourg in Nova Scotia, Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, Cades Cove, Tennessee, Mount Rushmore and the Badlands, Ford’s Theatre, the Pyramids of Egypt, the Verona Arena in Verona, Italy… I’ve seen hieroglyphics, petroglyphs (Indian drawings), the names of the pioneers and covered wagon tracks carved into sheer rock on the Oregon Trail. I’ve walked through the ruins of castles in Europe. I’ve seen blood stains on floorboards in a plantation house-turned-hospital.

When I’m in these places, I imagine what it was like to live there… to see life through the eyes of those who lived so long ago. And although we can visit these historical locations and get a feeling for how things were, it’s impossible to go back in time and experience their lives… or is it?

Historical fiction breathes life into history. It becomes real. It’s your own personal time machine where you can travel to any era or event you want. Of course, most of the characters are fictional, still you can experience life the way they lived it. You can answer Alexander Graham Bell’s first phone call. You can sit in the theatre when Abraham Lincoln was shot. You can catch the first look of shoreline after weeks on a schooner or a merchant ship. You can feel every bump and jostle as you cross the open prairie. You can hear the clang as the gate of Auschwitz closes behind you. You can feel the warmth of a campfire and hear the lowing of the longhorns as they settle down for the night. You can feel the damp chill of a stone castle. You can taste the corn for the very first time that the Indians taught your family to plant. You can go anywhere and any “when.”

My favorite eras are the Civil War (love me some hoop skirts) and the Pioneers (who hasn’t dreamed of crossing the prairie in a covered wagon, right?)

Is it any wonder that with my love for history, my debut novel is a historical romance?

Interview

Welcome to my blog, Gina! It is so good to have you here today. And thanks for the guest post. You have a historical romance friend in me for sure

Fiction Inspired By Life: Grieving

As we approach the holiday season, it is a joyous time for many, but it is also a time of sorrow for others. For some are spending their first holidays without a key member of their family. It will not be easy. Everything about the routines, the traditions, the get-togethers…nothing will be the same. And it’s not fair. Nothing about it is fair.

And so, I find myself sharing about grief again. Only this time, I want to talk about how my own experience with grief has bled into my writing.

A Convenient Risk

One of my latest novels, A Convenient Risk, has a thread of grief and the grieving process running through it. I wrote this novel about a year and a half ago. At that time, I was only somewhat acquainted with grief. I had experienced the loss of four grandparents (all of whom I was very, very close to). And I had said an eternal farewell to a close friend who drowned at the age of 19.

I’ll be honest, as a empathetic personality, grief has always been a struggle for me. I have never done well with the process and moving on from it. Until I started going to a counselor. But this is all another post for another time. Which, I promise, I will get into. But this is where I was.

Amanda

The lead female character in A Convenient Risk, Amanda, loses her husband in the first scene of the novel. And, in this time period, the late 1800’s, there are not many options open to a woman, especially one who must support a child (which she does). So, she has to find stability for she and her son. When a decent offer of marriage comes along, she is hard pressed to take it.

In this book, Amanda struggles through her grief in finding new normal, in the fact she has a new marriage. She is also challenged in the area of belief in a heavenly Father who could love her. This makes her journey even harder.

Here is an excerpt from the novel:

Cold. The air whipping her hair chilled her face, but it couldn’t touch her heart. That was already lost. Was this all she would ever feel? Perhaps that’s what she deserved.

A small hand pulled at her skirt. Samuel. She couldn’t forget him. He deserved better. More than what life had dealt him. Leaning down, she swept him into her arms and held him to her chest. If only there were some semblance of warmth there for him. It couldn’t be helped.

“Don’t cry, Mama.” His tiny voice broke through the silence. Small hands framed her face. “Pa’s in heaven, right?”

Nodding at her son with his simple faith, she set her forehead on his, closing her eyes so he couldn’t see her tears.

Movement to her left gave her pause. But she dare not look. Probably another well-meaning friend come to comfort her. A face among many.

“They need to start.” It was Reverend Mason.

Men with their shovels clanging fell into step behind him. Why now? Could she just have a few more minutes before time continued? Before the inevitable swept her along?

“Ma’am?” The preacher’s voice was kind, but insistent.

Didn’t he know her world was falling apart? That nothing would ever be the same? That she had lost the only one who ever knew…who ever understood…

A hand fell upon her arm, and she did not try to resist as the reverend tugged at her, pulling her away from the graveside.

She snuggled Samuel closer to her chest, placing a hand behind his head and pressing his little face into the crook of her neck. He didn’t need to see. No, she couldn’t let him see as the two men scooped dirt onto his father’s casket.

“Mama, you’re hurting me,” came the muffled little voice.

She loosened her grip. And guilt slammed into her—she had caused enough pain, enough grief. No more. And certainly not for Samuel. He was everything.

“The next few days will be hard, Mrs. Haynes. Don’t expect anything different. You will have to find a new normal. Life as you knew it is gone.”

Amanda nodded numbly as she pressed a kiss to the side of Samuel’s head. New normal. What did that mean? What was normal? Her husband had been ill for near three months. She had watched him waste away. And her child watched his father suffer until death released him.

Shouldn’t they welcome a new normal? But Amanda would give anything to have Jed back. Not to hear his voice, or feel his arms one more time, but to know that everything was going to be all right. Was that selfish? Because right now, the future looked grim. How was she to care for Samuel? For herself? For the ranch?

~ Turnquist, Sara R. (2017)

Some things that come to light for me from this passage are how many emotions come through in grief: sadness, guilt, anger, frustration, bitterness, regret… We also remember good times, which brings us something akin to bittersweetness. And happiness that is laced with pain. (Not that Amanda in this scene has any semblance of that.)

It is true…

But it is true also that life does go on. She has to care for Samuel. She has to find a way to live. That is one of the harder things about grieving. Especially for those of us in a position of responsibility – we have to return to work, we have to wake up and take care of the kids, classes and homework wait for us. Bills and taxes still have to be paid. As much as we wish the world would stop for us to just pause and let ourselves go, it won’t. So we have to find the moments, make the time.

And, in those times, lean into the grief and not turn from it. Let it wash over us.

So we can then begin to heal.

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INTERVIEW & SPOTLIGHT: Author Emerald Barnes

Hello, all! I have an author on today who I met through the Clean Reads Publishing family. It really does feel a bit like a family, all of us authors who have published with Clean Reads. We help each other with marketing tips, answer each other’s questions, give each other recommendations and tips on where to get stuff printed, what blog tour service was worth the money, and so on and so forth. I have enjoyed being a part of this group.

Back to my guest. Emerald Barnes is the author of the Knight’s Academy Series and is here to share with us about the newest book in that series, The Hunted. So, without any further rambling from me, I’ll jump right in.

Hello, Emerald. Thanks for being on my blog today. First, can you tell us a little about your novel.

My novel, The Hunted, is the second book in the Knight’s Academy series, and it follows Myka after she’s found out the meaning of her birthmark and the truth of the Knight’s Academy. She’s on the run from the vicious vampires who want her, and she finally discovers the truth of who she is.

Such an interesting and unique story! What was the inspiration for The Hunted?

My novel, the entire series actually, was inspired by a dream I had where a vampire saved a human from being a captive, which was probably inspired by Twilight and The Vampire Academy series.

Hmmm…I do dream about my genre and I know I think in the dream “this would be a good story”, but I don’t often remember enough of the dream to capture it