Sarah Baughman's Blog, page 10

Make Ready with a hot beverage or mug

A warm beverage on a chilly day. #makeready2016 #ilovemyshepherd #graftedheart

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper, to be with you forever.  John 14:16

Grab a peppermint mocha, a rich English Breakfast tea, or a hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows, and sit for a moment to take in the Word. As the beverage warms you from the inside out just rest. We’re here, making ready for Christmas. This is such a loaded concept, filled with anticipation, dread, activity, stress, and any number of other things. Remember, though, the why behind it: Christ. He came, and He will come again. And while we wait, He sends His Spirit to fill us with love, with warmth, with peace, with His very presence.

Are you ready to Make Ready?

Ready to Make Ready? #Advent2016 #ilovemyshepherd #graftedheart

Advent starts tomorrow! Can you believe it?

If you’re ready for Christmas, or if you’d like to enjoy the lull between Thanksgiving and Christmas for a bit longer, you can still Make Ready with us. It’s a low-key, gentle approach, designed to help each of us focus for a few moments each day on the coming of our Savior. Is there a better reason to Make Ready?

Download the PDF, or if you’re subscribed to the blog, you’ll get daily emails of the brief devotions. Want to stop there? That’s just fine. Want to participate? Post a pic to social media, with #advent2016, #ilovemyshepherd #graftedheart.

It’s that easy. Heidi and I are so excited!

Hope to see you tomorrow, ready to Make Ready with us!

Make Ready…because you are His own

A few years ago, my daughter came skipping into the room where my extended family was gathered on Christmas Day. My aunt turned to me with wide eyes and said, “Sarah, I just had deja vu; for a split second, I thought it was a young you skipping in here.”

The analogy isn’t perfect, but children – including children who do not share the same genetic code – will resemble their parents. Mannerisms, habits, phrasing – all these are so often passed from parent to child without our even realizing it.

The same is true for us, as God’s children, though the passing of traits is much more intentional in this case. Let’s read Galatians 4:4-7.

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!” So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and if a son, then an heir through God.

We are in the fullness of time. The Israelites waited and longed for the redemption that was promised. And when it was time, the time that He had carefully selected for the world’s redemption, He sent forth his Son.

This is a choice of obedience, of sacrifice, on the part of the Son. He was not pressed into service, nor was He unaware of what His obedience would entail. He is sent with the full agreement of the Trinity, that in this manner the world would be redeemed. He knew he would become subject to the Law, that He would bear the weight of our disobedience in His willing obedience. Because He loves us. Actively. Wholly. Without bounds.

While today’s modern world may not appreciate the phrase adoption as sons, it is loaded with meaning for those familiar with the ancient world. Sons carry their father’s name all their lives. Sons inherit all their father has. Sons are brought into their father’s intimate circle.

We, as God’s “adopted sons”, have that! We carry our God’s name. We inherit all our God has. We are brought into our God’s intimate circle.

And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”

Not only are we sons, heirs, but we have His Spirit! His mannerisms of mercy, His habits of love, His phrasing of His Word are ours. We are no longer slaves to sin, but heirs with Christ. We are His people, sent into a world needing desperately to be freed and adopted.

This Advent, and always, let’s remember whose we are, and what great love He poured out on us in order to make us His. Love lain in a manger, love spoken in words of mercy, love spilled out from the cross, love poured out on us. Let’s continue to sprinkle, splash, pour or dump that love on a world filled with the need of a Savior.

 

The Story People by Heather Kaufman

Confession time: When I’m reading a book, I usually am thinking about what different phrases I’d have used, or perhaps a different plot twist I’d have put in. It’s an annoying and aggravating byproduct of the writing I do. When I come across a book, then, that there’s either nothing I’d change, or that sweeps me so into the story that I’m reading as a reader, and not as a writer, it is a rare treat.

Heather Kaufman‘s debut book, The Story People, is one such book. It is full of fascinating characters whose voices you can hear in your mind. In fact, if I was walking down the street and passed Mrs. Gardner, I’d know her right away! The story sweeps you away to a land between reality and the imagination, perfectly mingling her superb storytelling skills with a strong message of encouragement for Christian life. I would recommend this book for anyone.

I’m a big fan of personal growth – in real life and in fiction. The growth of a character, the the opening and stretching and reaching that must take place… I love seeing it in a book. The Story People had it in spades, and it was beautifully done. I cried at several parts at the moving description of God’s work in the people’s lives, at the realizations different characters had that their thinking needed an adjustment.

For more great info on the book, visit the book’s landing page…it’s great!

And now, here’s a brief interview for your reading pleasure!

Sarah: Would you tell us a little about yourself?

Heather: I grew up in a large book-loving family. I’m the oldest of six and was homeschooled, so our house was always filled with books! I started writing poetry at age six and stories by thirteen, completing my first novel, Shield of Love, in high school. The Story People was originally titled For the Love of Books, and I penned the first scribbles over eight years ago! Now, it’s undergone a lot of change since then (thankfully!), but reading and writing have always been and continue to be a huge part of my life.

My husband and I have been married six years (how has it been that long?!), and we have a two-year-old son who keeps us busy. So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Maisy Mouse and Thomas the Tank Engine books, but I love it!

Sarah: What inspired The Story People?

Heather: I like to say that writers are some of the most curious and observant people out there. We love to watch and speculate about people, which is how this book came to be. I visited a quaint bookstore in historic New Harmony, Indiana years ago, and there was a man who was running it who looked out of place. He seemed like he belonged on some foreign beach rather than in a small Midwestern bookstore, so it made me wonder about his story. How did he get there? Does he feel out of place and why? The questions just poured from there, and I answered them by creating Benjamin Palermo. I think a lot of books are born this way—as answers to questions.

Sarah: What holiday (or season) is your favorite, and why?

Heather: I love the transition seasons—Spring and Fall. I enjoy the more moderate weather, the urge to just be outside, and the anticipation these seasons inevitably bring. We look ahead to summer vacations or to Christmas, and that sense of waiting makes these seasons especially delicious to me. If pressed to choose, I’d have to say Fall is probably my favorite of the two, if only because I love sporting my boots, cardigans, and scarves and enjoy eating (and drinking!) all things pumpkin!

Thanks so much, Heather, for giving us a bit of your time and sharing about your lovely book with us!

Advent 2016: Make Ready

This year, I’m teaming up with Heidi at I Love My Shepherd for an Advent Season Photo Challenge! Advent consists of the weeks leading up to Christmas, when we prepare our hearts and minds for the coming of the Savior. This Photo Challenge is a fun way to express our faith, get into the Word, and be creative this holiday season.

There are several ways to participate.

First, get the Advent 2016 Devotions. There are two ways to do this: download them with the link at the end of this post, or  receive them each day in your inbox by subscribing to either of our blogs. The devotion for each day is about 3-5 sentences long, so it’ll be short and sweet!

Second, post your Advent 2016 Photo Challenge pictures on social media using #Advent2016, #ilovemyshepherd, and #graftedheart. Here are some examples.

something from another generation. #Advent2016 #ilovemyshepherd #graftedheart
Advent countdown or wreath. #Advent2016 #ilovemyshepherd #graftedheart


something warm to wear. #advent2016 #ilovemyshepherd #graftedheart

See? Pretty easy. And you can participate as frequently as you’d like — here and there, or every day. And if you do participate every day by posting photos and using the hashtags indicated, you’ll be entered to win our fabulous New Year’s Eve Prize Pack!

More than anything, we want this to be a stress-free activity to enrich your Advent.

We pray this Advent resource helps you to reflect on the heart of the season and the love of Jesus Christ in your lives and families, as you Make Ready for His coming!

Here’s the PDF!

The Cautious Maiden Review

As an avid reader and a writer of Regency Fiction, it is fun for me to step outside of my genre and read fiction from a different era. Dawn Crandall’s The Cautious Maiden is set in the late 1800s in New England. It is the latest installment of her series The Everstone Chronicles, and has been receiving rave reviews from her faithful following. You can check out some of those reviews here.

I “met” Dawn through a Facebook readers’ group and have enjoyed getting to know her a little bit. Here’s a bit about her:

Dawn Crandall is an ACFW Carol Award-nominated author of the award winning series The Everstone Chronicles, which consists of four books: The Hesitant Heiress, The Bound Heart, The Captive Imposter and The Cautious Maiden which released October 4th, 2016.

Apart from writing, Dawn is also a mom of two little ones and serves with her husband in a premarital mentorship program at their local church in Fort Wayne, Indiana.

A graduate of Taylor University with a degree in Christian Education and a former bookseller at Barnes & Noble, Dawn Crandall didn’t begin writing until 2010 when her husband found out about her long-buried dream. It didn’t take her long to realize that writing books was what she was made to do.

Dawn is a member of the American Christian Fiction Writers, the secretary for the Indiana ACFW Chapter (Hoosier Ink), and an associate member of the Great Lakes ACFW Chapter. She is represented by Joyce Hart of Hartline Literary Agency.

The Cautious Maiden follows Violet Hawthorne, whose unscrupulous brother’s antics have not only compromised her, but placed her in harm’s way. Seeking an escape from both the man hunting her and from the ruination of her compromise, she agrees to enter into an engagement with recently-reformed Vance Everstone. Vance, for his part, has played fast and loose with the hearts and bodies of women in his past, but has put that aside in the wake of his sudden conversion following the death of his brother. Traveling from the resort hotel to Boston with Vance, to stay with his family, Violet must accustom herself to what seems to be a whole new world. Now that their wedding is nearing…well, I think I’ve shared enough. You’ll have to check out the book if you want to learn more.

Violet’s Daybreak

Greetings, friends! In all the excitement of preparing for Violet’s Daybreak to be released, I never actually posted on here. Can you believe it?

Available on Amazon.com.

Violet is officially here. Isn’t she lovely? I’m so excited about this book!

Some of you know that this was the first novel I ever completed. It took years and years, and birthed another novel that came both after and before (after, if we’re talking about writing-time; before, if we’re talking about timeline of the stories). Because of the detour in publishing Violet, some changes were made, scenes were cut, and a main character’s name was even changed. (Can you guess whose?) I’m so pleased with how it turned out, and the resulting development of this series has been a great deal of fun for me. I hope it’s as fun for you to read!

Violet is the sister of Mr. Ashbridge Wyndham, the male protagonist in my first book, Penelope’s Hope. Violet enchanted readers with her quiet yet faithful friendship to Penelope and prayerful support of her brother. Now you get to read her story, hear her thoughts, and meet Lord Reymes, her future husband. I can’t wait for you to get reacquainted with Violet and to meet Nathaniel!

Here’s a little excerpt of their first meeting…

“No, I do not wish to be persuaded! I wish to be left alone. Please!”

And in the next instant, he was gone. Violet collapsed onto the ground near the balustrade, breathing shallowly as she drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in the fabric of her gown, attempting to calm her crying. She was vaguely aware of the sounds of a scuffle of feet, several grunts – satisfied and pained in turn – and finally some whispered threats before the door creaked once more as someone returned to the ballroom. The sound of the water below sounded more natural now and the aroma of damp earth and sweet flora floating on the air once again reached her.

“You are safe now,” came a gentle, masculine voice. With one last shudder, Violet managed to tamp down her sobs and force her breaths to come at a more even pace. Still, however, she could not bear to meet the eyes of her rescuer.

“Miss, er– Wyndham, was it?” the man’s voice asked, a voice similar in cadence and timbre to that of her attacker, but with gentler, richer tones. “Are you–”

“Please,” she blurted, “please just leave me be!”

“I will,” said he, his voice closer than it was previously, “but first may I ask if you are harmed?”

Violet could not help but be grateful that he phrased his inquiry as he did. She was not well, but neither was she truly harmed, so she was able to offer an honest answer. “I am not.”

“Will you look at me?” he asked, very near now, if his voice was any indication.

Violet did not wish to look at him, but felt that she could not reasonably deny the man’s request. Such a simple matter, Violet, she chided herself. Truly, Mama would be shocked to see how childish, how missish you are being. And so, with a shaky breath, Violet raised her head.

The light through the door to the ballroom afforded little visibility, but as he crouched beside her, rather than between her and the door, Violet was able to see enough of his features to recognize him.

“My lord Reymes!” she cried, allowing her gaze to again drop. She immediately began to gather her skirts in order to stand, but his hand gently placed upon her forearm stayed her. She shyly peeked up into his face.

“Miss Wyndham,” he began, inclining his head slightly. “Please do not trouble yourself. These are not the polite but inane words exchanged in a ballroom or during a morning call. I want you to be certain that you are well enough before you attempt to stand, and we must discuss, a little bit at least, what has transpired just now. And what’s to be done about it.”

She blushed, but nodded slightly before settling again where she was. As she arranged her gown more tidily about her, Violet realized that it was difficult for her to believe that it was actually Lord Reymes who was speaking to her.

The man was rumored to be rather haughty, as many men in his position were expected to be – young, handsome, titled, and unmarried. There was a dim memory that she carried, though, of a dance shared with him a couple of years past. During the dance, she had no misapprehension of his feeling anything more for her than a vague apathy. However, he had been polite, and offered no pointless conversation. Her heart had been pained with sympathy for him, and perhaps something else which she did not understand. Something she had kept to herself when she later discussed the dance with her friend. At the time, Violet had thought that he carried a deep sorrow.

That memory had faded in her mind, especially as life with her mother and sister continued after her brother’s marriage. She had all but forgotten their brief encounter. But when she again saw Lord Reymes earlier this evening, nearly two years after the shared dance, the memory began to resurface. During their introduction at the door of his house, she had forced herself to look at his eyes and saw that same sadness she had discerned when they danced. Her sister and her mama, of course, did not see anything save his handsome face, well-tailored coat, and the expensive yet tasteful embellishments to his ensemble: one fob, a signet ring, and a snuff-box which seemed more something with which to occupy his hands on occasion than to use.

The Earl sighed tiredly as he took out said snuff-box and then spoke again, bringing Violet’s attention back to the present. “My brother has long disregarded the requirements and strictures which Polite Society places on him had he held to a more honorable code of living.” Lord Reymes turned the small box over and over in his hands. Violet blushed after realizing that they were strong hands, yet still soft and not calloused by labor: the hands of a gentleman. She forced herself to concentrate on his words.

Oh! That was his brother? came the belated thought.

“His behavior toward you this evening was reprehensible, to say the least. If there is anything I may do to make restitution, please do not hesitate to name it. Unfortunately, he is unable to offer the protection of his name, being recently married, but I certainly can offer any assistance within my capability – confirmation of your innocence, refutation of rumors, monetary assistance – if you have a suitor who may need some incentive in the form of an increased dowry, or if there is anything else you may think of–”

“Please, my lord, do not trouble yourself.” Violet suddenly felt badly for the man before her. Clearly, he was burdened by the depravity with which his brother conducted himself and his offer suggested to Violet that he had paid previously for his brother’s misdeeds. Her desire to assure the man over-rode her fear of speaking to him. “Trust me when I say that I will require nothing of you. I-I cannot imagine that my party has even missed me yet!” She managed a tremulous smile.

He returned her smile with a small one of his own.

“Are you well enough to stand now, Miss Wyndham?” he asked, offering his hand. She nodded and accepted his assistance in rising.

“Thank you, my lord,” she murmured while smoothing her gown.

After a moment, Lord Reymes said conversationally, “You are in the neighborhood visiting your relatives, are you not? The Doberly family?”

She swallowed before answering, hoping her earlier bravery would remain when answering his questions. “Yes, my lord,” she replied. “They are my aunt and uncle.”

“They are excellent neighbors.”

“Yes, the very best of people.” Her eyes flitted to his face, which was again darkened in shadow. Even so, she could see that a slight smile formed at her words.

“Are you enjoying your visit?” he asked, immediately followed by a small choking sound. “That is, aside from…this current unpleasantness.”

“Yes, my lord.” Violet knew she ought to say more, illustrate some of the meals or perhaps excursions provided as entertainment to them, but she feared that she would bore him. She settled with, “We always enjoy our visits with one another.”

“Is your home far from here?” he inquired.

“No. Mama prefers to take two days for the traveling, but when my father still lived, we would go all in one. We changed horses once, but it is not so terribly long.”

“I see.” Hearing amusement in his voice, she looked up again into his eyes. She could not be certain, but they seemed to crinkle at the corners with his grin. She wished to ask what he found so humorous, but did not. Before she could begin to fret, he asked, “How do you find the assembly?”

“I find it…” Violet was at a loss. She detested being there, but could not very well admit it to the host. “That is to say, it is…I, er-” Violet stopped her sputtering and decided that with her bungled attempt at an answer, there was nothing for it and she must be honest. “I do apologize, but I am not very well at my ease in such…varied company.”

The man’s smile expanded fully upon his face. His teeth reflected the filtered light from the ballroom. Good teeth, came her mama’s voice in her head. “So you find it as dreadful as I, then? Miss Wyndham, I confess that I do not enjoy balls nearly as much as I ought. However, since beginning to converse with you, I allow that my opinion of this one, at least, has risen considerably.”

Violet felt her face flame and prayed that Lord Reymes would not notice, in spite of the soft light she knew illuminated her face. “It is more tolerable to know someone else shares my feelings.”

A low chuckle sounded before he answered, “Indeed. I suppose there is some merit to the saying misery loves company.”

“I cannot say that I should go so far as to say that misery describes my feelings on the matter.” Violet felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, but did her best to repress it; she did not wish so great a man to think she was flirting with him. Her mama had mentioned just yesterday that the Earl was notorious for brushing off the misses who dared act familiarly with him. Though he did not act in such a manner when we danced, she could not help but think. He was not precisely amiable, but neither was he dismissive.

Lord Reymes drew her from her thoughts. “Then you are kinder than I.”

In what regard? Violet wondered initially, until she recalled they were speaking of their opinions of balls and large crowds of near-strangers.

Following a pause that had grown nearly uncomfortable, he breathed out quickly before saying in low tones, “Miss Wyndham, forgive me, but I must inquire once more as to your well-being. I am aware that you require no monetary compensation, but are you well? While I myself have never been – attacked – beyond childish, school-boy pranks, I am given to understand that these – er, these sort of occurrences may very well cause a lady of delicate nature, such as yourself, to suffer. Are you possibly in shock? Not that I mean to imply that you should not be as recovered as you appear to be. I wholly hope that you are well and that there are not any lasting repercussions for you. But please, do tell me if you are unwell.”

Violet was taken aback at his loquacious manner of asking if she was well in spirit. He struck her as a man of few words, but then she supposed she did not know him very well. One dance two years in the past does not make a close acquaintance. Indeed, it seems that he does not even recall that evening. Rather than dwelling on this, though, she hastened to assure him. “Pray, do not trouble yourself, my lord. I am well. He – he did nothing but k-kiss me.” The memory of ten minutes ago pressed at her from the corners of her mind, where she had relegated it for the time being, and a tremor ran down her spine.

Lord Reymes shifted closer to her. She may have imagined it, but he seemed to furrow his brow in concern. It is rather dark; and I cannot believe that he would be unnecessarily worried over me. “Miss Wyndham, are you certain? You cannot convince me that your shiver was from the cold.”

Must he be so attentive? She found frustration coloring her voice as she said, “I will admit that the likelihood is high that I shall weep tonight, in the privacy of my bed, but I cannot very well do it here, can I?”

“Some ladies would,” was his reply.

“I grant you are right,” she admitted. “Extravagant displays of emotion are rather common nowadays, but the attention which would accompany such a display is something that I could not abide.”

“Do not ladies live for attention?”

“Not I.”

A slight grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as he answered, “No, I suppose you would not care for that.” After a brief silence, he cleared his throat and motioned toward the ballroom, taking a step back at the same time. “Do you wish to return to the assembly now?”

Violet did not wish to return at all. She was uncertain, though, as to how she felt about the Earl remaining on the small balcony. A part of her wished he would go, so that she might again enjoy her solitude and compose herself. Even more, though, Violet was surprised to realize that a part of her wished he would stay and talk more with her. Although his gaze was decidedly unnerving, she enjoyed the humor in his voice and the smooth timbre of it. She realized that her quivering and fear had all but vanished. It was odd how much this man’s presence put her at ease, in a manner that only her brother had been able to do previously – especially considering what his brother had attempted to do to her.

Regardless of her desire to remain where she was, Violet’s answer bowed to the demands of propriety. “Yes, my lord. I have been absent for too long. In fact, if I do not return soon, I might be proved wrong and my absence be noticed. As it is, they must believe me to be taking some refreshment.”

“I see. In that case, let us return with all due haste. Step here, where the light will show me your appearance. It would be unwise to return if you appear at all out of countenance.” Violet turned her face to the light of the ballroom, feeble though it was, and felt her cheeks warm as she sensed his close scrutiny. “Your hair is slightly mussed, but perhaps you may smooth some of those escaped strands.” Her fingers trembled as she swept them over her hair, pulling the loosened strands back, even as he nodded approvingly. “Your hair is much improved – we may now return.” He grinned wryly as he spoke. “To avoid any rumors if we return together, shall you return first or shall I?”

She managed to breathe, “I–I will, if that is agreeable to my lord.”

“Very well,” he said, smiling while he put out his hand his hand to usher her in the direction of the ballroom.

Violet moved toward the door and had just reached it when his firm hand grasped her elbow. A predilection for preservation stiffened her body, fear racing through her like icy pin-pricks.

“Miss Wyndham, your dress.” Lord Reymes’ cautionary voice reached her. Her confusion at his words dispelled the alarm which had descended upon her and she quickly spun to see what he meant. Doing so easily broke his hold on her arm and her comfort with him returned. He was much closer than she expected, though, and Violet’s eyes widened at seeing his eyes mere inches from hers. Startled, she hurriedly took a step back. Her foot caught in the short train of her dress, and she was suddenly tipping backward.

“Oh!” Violet’s arms flailed, reaching for anything behind her which might stay her fall, but she was suddenly caught in a strong arm which prevented a fall. To further steady her, his other hand reached for one of her flailing arms.

One moment she was suspended in air, the next pressed against his warm body.

For the space of several breaths, Violet’s heart thudded heavily in her chest and her breath came in short gasps. His spiced scent filled her head, but she felt none of the fear she had when his brother had forced himself this close to her. Swallowing thickly, she looked up into his surprised face, knowing it reflected the same emotion as hers. His deep eyes gazed steadily back into hers, darkening minutely as his arm shifted subtly around her.

“Violet! What is the meaning of this?”

Copyright Sarah Baughman 2016. All rights reserved.

A Regency Lady’s Life

The term “mistress” has much different connotations today than it did two hundred years ago. Then, it merely meant the woman in charge of the house. In my book, Violet’s Daybreak, after Violet and Nathaniel marry, Violet becomes the mistress of Bainscroft.

Can you imagine being in charge of a huge house, with more than ten bedrooms, several drawing rooms, morning room, sitting room, music room, studies, a library…I can hardly wrap my head around it! Violet is responsible not only for coordinating with her housekeeper, Mrs. Baker, for menus, giving final approval for maids hired and fired, and purchasing of other household items, as well as keeping up with some of the butler’s responsibilities, but she also would have been expected to visit the sick and poor living on the Bainscroft estate and surrounding areas, visiting other gentlewomen and gentlemen in the area (like her Uncle and Aunt Doberly), and so much more.

What parallels can you see with your own life? What areas deviate from your life?

When Violet moves to Bainscroft, she’s also tasked with redecorating some of the rooms. Thank goodness she has the Dowager Countess’ approval on that! Can you imagine trying to redecorate a room that your mother-in-law had decorated when she was a younger woman, and her disapproving your changing anything? It would make for some awkward afternoon teas, wouldn’t it?

Another thing Violet was dealing with in her first months at Bainscroft is that of her clothing. Her marriage was a bit odd in that she did not acquire most of her wedding trousseau until after the fact. I won’t give you the details of why that happened here; you can read about it in her book! Most ladies, when they marry, would have been outfitted with a new wardrobe by their families.

Nowadays, we simply go to the store, pick out what we want, maybe try it on, and buy it. During Violet’s time, a lady had to either purchase fabric and sew her own clothing, or choose the fabric and bespeak a gown with a seamstress or dressmaker. She would be measured, go in for at least one fitting, and receive the gown after it was made especially for her. Some dressmakers might have sold gloves and other sundry items, but most of the time, such items would have been purchased at a haberdashery shop. Things like gloves, stockings, and so on, would have been made and sold there. A milliner would have crafted and sold bonnets and such. A shoemaker constructed and sold shoes, slippers, and boots, and so on. Shopping has undergone quite a change in two hundred years, hasn’t it?

With this in mind, I thought it would be fun for us to help Violet out a bit with her responsibilities. I’ve created a closed Facebook Group for this purpose. We can post dresses we think she should bespeak, with whatever moderations we’d suggest for her (perhaps raising the neckline or adding a trim to the sleeves and hem). And I’m sure Violet would appreciate some help with how to decorate some of the rooms at Bainscroft. I know she felt content with many of them, but as the years go on, certain things will need to be updated. We can post fabrics, paint colors, carpet designs, and so on that we think would be helpful to her.

Hope in Fiction

(Graphics added with Retype Ap)

Can fiction bring hope? It isn’t real, so what’s the point of considering the impact it may or may not have in people’s lives?

Parables are a form of fiction. Granted, they have much more distinct parallels to the spiritual truths about which they teach than does a novel. But as the Lord ministers to His people through His people, he also does through their efforts.

Consider a friendship. Does God not offer comfort, companionship, and commiseration in that relationship? (Whew, I hadn’t planned on all that alliteration!)

Consider a parent-child relationship. Does God not offer care, protection, and instruction for that child? And joy, purpose, and glory through the child, for the parent?

For me, writing is about relationships. Granted, when I first thought, “I want to write!”, it was more about “I want to do something where I don’t have to deal with people, but can instead sit by myself, not worry about what others think or what I think of them, and write what I enjoy.” But God has slowly been opening me up to the truth that there is more to writing than that. It’s about reaching out to people, exposing bits of my heart and soul in what I write, and offering a glimpse of the faith that He has given me, the truth of His Word, and the Hope that is alive in my heart because of what He has done for me and for all of humanity.

So today, let us consider “Hope in Fiction”.

Hope was the theme of my first book, Penelope’s Hope (that sounds so redundant!). And not her own hope, but the hope that is from God. It’s the hope that won’t disappoint, that won’t fade in the face of difficulty or pain or loss. This Hope is one for the ages. It lasts, because it isn’t from this fallen, sinful world, but from God. The One who loves us and who sent His Son for us. The One who gave of Himself so that we may not perish, lost and hopeless.

So how does this work in Fiction? Certainly not in an idea of False Hope. We’ve already looked at Truth in Fiction. His Truth, like His Hope, is a promise we can bank on. We can stand on it, and trust that it’ll hold fast through the storms of life, through every terrible thing that Satan can throw at it and at us. We’ll keep our footing, because He holds us up with that foundation. In a fictional story, just like with Faith and Truth in that story, the Hope is real. The Hope is for us.

It flows from His Word, from His work in the lives of His people, from His very self. Hope for a future. Hope that even when everything is crashing down around us, we will stand. Hope that even if we fall, He will pick us up. Hope that even if we succumb to the ultimate trial – death – there is STILL Hope. As the grave could not hold Christ, neither can it hold those who are in Him!

THIS is the Hope infused in my writing. Not a “Wow, Penelope made a success of her plan! I can, too!” kind of hope. Sometimes our plans fail. And not a “Violet stayed faithful and God blessed her” kind of hope. We won’t always be faithful. And certainly not a “Frances finally figured it out, and got her happy ending” kind of hope. I can’t tell you more about that, you’ll have to read Book Three.

Truth in Fiction

 

(Graphics added with Retype App)

 

Last time, we looked a bit at writing faith-filled fiction. Today, I want consider the idea of Truth in Fiction. Of course, in today’s world (as well as when Jesus walked the earth), many people ask along with Pilate, “What is truth?” (see John 18 for more on that interchange) As Christians, followers of the Christ, we know that He is Truth. His Words, His teachings, are the essence of all that is real, that is pure, that is true. Within the context of fiction, though, we can consider it at different levels.

 

First though, consider this truth:

All fiction has some grain of truth, and from this grain, the story grows.

Even the most outrageous, creative, out-of-this-world story starts with a grain of reality. An idea of the author, a circumstance he or she saw or experienced, perhaps a dream or some other place of inspiration. But for all that we as writers create, there is nothing made apart from what God has already made. Sure, as we live in a sinful world, our creative efforts are also tainted by sin. But His redemptive work covers that, as well…so we keep writing, keep praying and adjusting and seeking His guidance as we write. And we write to tell the Truth for which He suffered and died, and rose again.

All Christian fiction has some grain of Truth, and from this grain, the story grows. Let’s consider this now.

In my book, Penelope’s Hope, there is a true, historic place in which the story is set. Some of the minor characters or people mentioned might be real, and while I (obviously) would have no personal experience in what they might say or do, I can extrapolate a general response to a situation (such as Penelope being looked down on because of her brother’s poor behavior). The fiction comes in with the characters and places I made up (Wyndmere, Penelope, Ashbridge, Violet, and so on). So in a broad sense, the truth of the place in history is where the fictional story grew.

This book reflects some of my experience of the truth of God’s loving, strengthening presence in my life.

 

In a more narrow sense, stories can grow from true experiences of the writer. Violet and I have a good number of similarities: we both are shy, we both have a younger sister, we both when we were at similar age had a strong sense of self in Christ, but a weak sense of self in the world. (ie where do I fit? What can I contribute?…questions most people ask at one point or another in their lives, if not more) However, our similarities end there. I have loving, supportive parents, a sister who is also a friend, and a good, secure upbringing. I drew on the feelings I had and sometimes still have of feeling shy of people and so on, but had to create new reasons for her shyness and new experiences for her that would shape how she grows as a character throughout her book.

 

Finally, as a Christian writer, there is a Truth from which my stories grow. In Penelope’s Hope, I chose to write about finding Hope in Christ, in God’s promises in Him. In Violet’s Daybreak, it was the light that God’s Salvation in Christ brings to our lives and to our hearts. With all of my writing, I strive to have God’s action in people’s lives be central to the story, as it is in the lives of people.

 

It is His movement and His grace which brings us to places of rest, which grows us, and which brings us ever nearer His heart. This is what I pray is reflected in my writing.