Cathy Bryant's Blog: CatBryant.com ~ Journey Blog, page 40

Prosperity and Success: The Key

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If we were to ask the average person if they’d like to be prosperous and successful, I dare say that most would respond with a resounding “Yes!” Of course, the Biblical model of prosperity and success is somewhat different than the world’s view (and better, I might add). While the world thinks of these terms in light of power and money, the Bible paints a much broader picture.

The World’s Definition of Prosperity and Success

Prosperity and success as defined in God’s Word aren’t determined by where we live, what we do for a living, how much money we have in the bank, what type of car we drive, the power we wield in our circle of influence, our intelligence, our social status, or the clothes we wear.

God’s Definition of Prosperity and Success

The Lord was with Joseph so that he prospered, and he lived in the house of his Egyptian master. When his master saw that the Lord was with him and that the Lord gave him success in everything he did, Joseph found favor in his eyes and became his attendant. Potiphar put him in charge of his household, and he entrusted to his care everything he owned. From the time he put him in charge of his household and of all that he owned, the Lord blessed the household of the Egyptian because of Joseph. The blessing of the Lord was on everything Potiphar had, both in the house and in the field.~Genesis 39:2-5 The key to true prosperity and success, which again is much broader than the worldview, is Who is with us. Without the Lord in our lives, we can never be truly prosperous and successful.

Application

Even if we have prosperity and success, it doesn’t mean we won’t have problems. Joseph experienced a pretty rough life: hated by his brothers, sold into slavery, unjustly accused, and thirteen years in bondage. In spite of his problem-ridden life, Joseph had prosperity and success, not because of himself or his circumstances, but because the LORD was with him. Ready for some great news? Remember Jesus’ words to His disciples before He ascended into heaven? Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the world.

RECOMMENDED READING: Success God’s Way by Charles Stanley

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Ticket Home: Our Faith, His Grace

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Our grandson adores trains, and being the doting Nana that I am, I like to indulge his passion.

Tickets are required for passage from one place to another and often come in two parts. One section is given to the person responsible for insuring that all passengers have a ticket. The other piece is our receipt, a guarantee of a reserved spot just for us.

The older (ahem…I mean, more mature) I get, the more I realize human beings are an odd lot. We tend to vacillate to extremes. This is true for both the physical world and the spiritual. In the case of our two-part ticket, the extremes are either a free ride or excessive work. But it doesn’t have to be excessive or extreme, and it’s anything but free.

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. ~Ephesians 2:8-9 (NASB)

Ticket Section 1: Our Faith

All that is required on our part to enter heaven is faith in Jesus as our Savior and Lord. Now at first faith may seem like a free ride, but it’s really not. It’s more than just saying you believe in something or someone. It requires you putting your life on the line to prove your faith. Faith is more than a one-time belief, but a daily practice of depending on God.

I know I’ve used the analogy of a chair before, but bear with me just in case someone out there is hearing this for the first time. I can say that I trust a chair to hold up my weight, but my faith isn’t proved or practiced until I actually sit in the chair.

Faith requires that we depend on God to do something for us that we could never do for ourselves. That’s where the other part of the ticket comes in to play.

Ticket Section 2: His Grace

 

Grace is God’s unmerited favor. There is absolutely nothing we can do to earn grace, or it wouldn’t be unmerited. We’re puny and weak, genetically sinful. We can’t be righteous enough, religious enough, or rich enough to make it to heaven and God’s Presence on our own. I love the way Mark Twain puts it: “Heaven goes by favor; if it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in.”

In sharp contrast, God is perfect and holy. Because of this disparity between His holiness and our sinfulness, we’re in a hopeless state and disqualified. But praise God, He made a way for us in spite of our sinfulness. Through Jesus’ death on the cross our sin debt was paid.  Once we place our faith in Him, His grace covers us so that when God looks at us, He sees Jesus, His One and Only Son and the perfect Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.

Through the sacrifice of His only Son, God gifted us with His Spirit–our guarantee that we have a spot in heaven reserved for us. That’s why this journey to our Promised Land is anything but a free ride. You see, the grace end of our ticket cost Jesus His lifeblood.

The Way of Grace ~ A story about bestowing on others the grace God has lavished on us.

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Win a Miller’s Creek Novel eBook…But Hurry!

WANT TO WIN A MILLER’S CREEK NOVEL E-BOOK?

Here’s your chance to win a Miller’s Creek Novel eBook, winner’s choice (of the four books listed above: Texas Roads, A Path Less Traveled, The Way of Grace, Pilgrimage of Promise). And if you’ve already read the books, you can always pass the gift to someone else.

I’m blogging today over at InspyRomance.com on the creative process. I love to be creative, whether it’s in writing stories, blog posts, music, or tinkering with a photo for the purpose of making a book cover.

I started off with this photo taken by my uber-talented youngest sister, received LOTS of helpful advice from Facebook friends, and ended up with this beautiful book cover for A Bridge Unbroken. (Side note: I’m planning a blog post on my favorite photo and photo editing sites sometime in the future.)

Okay, I digress…BIG TIME! This post is actually about the giveaway I’m doing at InspyRomance from now through Saturday, March 22nd. All you have to do is leave a comment on the post to be entered in the drawing for a chance to win a Miller’s Creek Novel eBook of your choice.

I’ll choose the winner via Random.org, and the winner will be announced in the Sunday post (March 23) at InspyRomance.

You can find out all the specifics at this post: http://www.inspyromance.com/a-pictures-worth-a-thousand-words-and-kindle-book-giveaway/

Please let all your Christian fiction buddies know about the giveaway, and feel free to share this post with the share buttons below. Oh, and while it’s on my mind, I now have Pinterest buttons on all the post photos. All you have to do is hover your cursor over the photos, wait for the button to pop up, then pin away! Here’s a tweet-able for you twits, I mean, you tweeters.. :/

Tweety Please: “”A Picture’s Worth A Thousand Words” by @Cathy_Bryant #eBook #Giveaway http://ctt.ec/j0z9f+ pic.twitter.com/GOBcZx1Nbf #MillersCreekNovelsBoy, I’m rambling today…ooohh, shiny! (Blame it on cold meds and caffeine!)

In addition to working on edits to A Bridge Unbroken, recuperating from a really nasty bug, and hosting a giveaway, I’m also making more changes to the website. (There goes my propensity to dabble in pics, colors, and fonts…) While I liked the rustic vibe I had going, it seemed like a dark cave every time I dropped by. Time to open to windows and let the sun shine in! (Still not completely satisfied with it, but hopefully I’ll get there soon.)

DON’T FORGET TO DROP BY INSPY-ROMANCE FOR A CHANCE TO WIN A MILLER’S CREEK NOVEL EBOOK!

Cathy Bryant’s Slidely by Slidely Slideshow

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Waiting ~ 3 Biblical Tips For Acquiring Patience

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Recently I read through the account of the golden calf in Exodus 32 and was once more reminded how easy it is to take matters into our own hands, especially when it seems like God somehow got busy with other things and forgot all about us.

The Consequences of Not Waiting

We’re impatient people. We don’t like to be kept waiting. Even Abraham, the father of our faith, grew tired of waiting on God to keep His promise. He and his wife Sarah took matters in their own hands to produce an heir. The result of their impatience was costly: bitter strife in Abraham’s household for years to come.

When we think about how God miraculously delivered the children of Israel from a life of slavery to a life as His covenant people, we have a hard time understanding their idolatry with the golden calf incident. But when we take a step backward to gain a little more perspective, we see the same tendency in ourselves.

The Idolatry of Not Waiting

God has miraculously delivered us from slavery to sin and death, and did so at the great cost of the crucifixion of His Only Son on our behalf. We’ve been set free by the only One who can make us free, yet at the first hint of having to wait, we commit idolatry.

How do we commit idolatry? Do we melt all our jewelry down to fashion a golden calf?

Of course not. Instead we put ourselves in God’s place by taking matters in our own hands and moving ahead without Him. Either one is idolatry.

3 Biblical Tips For Acquiring Patience

So how can we improve upon our tendency toward impatience and the resulting consequences?

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord! ~Psalm 27:14

1. Be strong. Don’t give in to the temptation to get ahead of God.

2. Let your heart take courage. Use the waiting time productively, by strengthening yourselves in the Lord (1 Samuel 30:6).

3. Wait. Do the thing God wants you to do by waiting for Him. Patience comes only in the wait.

Lord God, forgive my tendency to rush ahead of You and put myself in Your rightful place as my glorious Emancipator. Grant me spiritual strength, a courageous heart, and the patience to wait on You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

PILGRIMAGE OF PROMISE ~ A story of broken promises and enduring love…

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A Bridge Unbroken – Chapter 1

Letting go to build a bridge…

NOVEL UPDATE: I’m still hard at work on edits and rewrites for A Bridge Unbroken, but I thought y’all might enjoy a sneak peak. This isn’t necessarily the final copy, but you’ll get the idea. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

* * * * * * *
Coming Spring 2014
A Bridge Unbroken

CHAPTER ONE

Heart thumping wildly, Dakota peered out the peephole at the figure of a man obscured by the semi-darkness of early morning.

“Just peachy.” She kept her voice to a hushed whisper in the small and dingy apartment she’d called home for the past few months. What now? No longer secure, her downtown San Antonio getaway had obviously been compromised. But calling the cops wouldn’t work–a lesson she’d learned the hard way with scars as evidence. No, Kane had friends in high places.

Lord, help me. She inhaled sharply and backed away from the flimsy front door, willing her heart to slow its frantic pace. Calm down, Dakota. You’ve prepared for this scenario. Emergency backpack? Check. In its usual place by the window that led to the fire escape. Now to gather her bedding, meager food rations, and laptop. At least she was already dressed. Another lesson she’d learned in a life on the run.

A sharp knock sounded.

“Sorry, buster. I’m not falling for that trick.” Especially at this hour of the morning. Her neighbors partied until 3 a.m. and slept until noon. Whoever banged on her door at this ungodly hour wasn’t a neighbor or friend.

She sped to her bed in one corner of the room and rolled up her bedding. Less than a minute later she returned to the escape window, her computer bag slung over one shoulder. With nimble fingers, Dakota snapped the sleeping bag onto the backpack latches and strapped the drawstring trash bag that housed her food to a dangling carabiner clip.

The polite knock on the door now erupted into a persistent pounding.

Her pounding pulse responded in kind. Dakota struggled to lift the old window, finally able to raise it high enough to crawl through the narrow opening. A shiver rattled her body at the cold blast of autumn wind whistling between the tall brick buildings.

She yanked her over-stuffed backpack through the opening then hoisted it to her back. The weight almost pulled her backwards. Why hadn’t she thought to practice her escape with the heavy backpack in tow? She pushed against the outside of the window with every ounce of her strength. It screeched its objection, but finally rattled into place. Hopefully the closed window would buy extra time.

A hefty body thudded against the front door. With that kind of force, it wouldn’t hold long.

Her feet froze in place momentarily, her breathing shallow. Another thud against the door. Move it, Dakota! She flew down the rusty stairs, aware of the clanging sound of her boots against the metal, but powerless to soften her steps. At the first floor landing, she stopped abruptly and yanked on the ladder to access the alley. Frozen in place by rust and years of disuse, it didn’t budge. She pushed again with a guttural grunt. Nothing.

“Great.” Her brain sped into overdrive. What good was a fire escape if you couldn’t escape? Lips clenched, she searched the area for any smidgen of hope. To the left of the landing a gutter pipe inched to the ground, but would it hold her weight?

A screech raised her eyes to the apartment window five floors above, and she flattened herself against the cold brick of the building. A hooded head peered out, barely visible in the pre-dawn light, then a stocky figure climbed from the opening.

“Busted.” Her heart tapped out a ferocious dance against her ribs. This guy meant business.

Praying the gutter would do the trick, Dakota scrambled over the rail and grabbed hold of the ice-cold pipe. The metal strap holding the gutter in place pulled precariously away from the grimy brick wall, exposing rusty nails.

“Don’t you dare let go,” she commanded under her breath. Determined, she clamped her bottom lip between her teeth, her gaze on the strap as she shimmied to the ground. Once her boots hit the asphalt alleyway, she raced toward her pickup, the sound of heavy steps pounding the fire escape behind her.

Lungs exploding, Dakota neared the truck, unbuckled clips, and yanked off her pack. She glanced back just long enough to see the quickly-approaching figure, then tossed the backpack to the far side of the pickup’s cab and jumped in. The man grew closer–close enough to note the black hoody he wore, but not enough to make out the shadowy face beneath. Definitely not Kane–too short and too stocky–but most likely one of his many hired goons.

Overwhelming panic erupted in her gut, blazing a fiery trail to her stomach. With fumbling fingers, she inserted the key in the ignition. Please start. The pickup roared to life on the first try. Just as the man reached her bumper, she threw the truck into gear and shot out into the street. In the rear-view mirror, the guy slowed his steps and stared after her a brief moment before he turned and ran in the opposite direction. Probably going after his car.

Her spirit deflated, whooshing air from her puffed-out cheeks. This chase wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

Dakota pressed the accelerator. “Well, Miller’s Creek it is.” The decision made for her. With San Antonio no longer a safe option, her deceased grandparent’s farmhouse made the most sense. J. C. ‘s late call last night couldn’t have come at a more opportune time, God’s guiding hand once more on her shoulder.

Only when she merged into the thickening morning commute traffic on Interstate 35 a few minutes later did Dakota semi-relax. She twisted her neck from side to side to release tension from her neck and shoulders, still trying to wrap her brain around returning to Miller’s Creek. The only problem with Mawmaw and Pawpaw’s farm was the possibility of facing Chance again. Could she withstand the magnetic pull he’d always exerted over her heart?

An ache landed in her chest. If only things had turned out differently between them. Dakota gave her red curls a shake to dislodge unwanted thoughts and emotions from her system. “Didn’t you suffer enough the first time, Dakota?” She checked her rear-view mirror as a black car moved in behind her. “Nope. I’m through with all men, including Chance Johnson.” Her palms pounded the steering wheel to punctuate the self-serving promise. J. C. hadn’t mentioned his grandson, so hopefully Chance had moved on somewhere else.

Dakota flipped on her blinker and changed lanes. The black car followed, right on her bumper. A frown pulled her forehead tight. The guy could at least stay far enough back for her to see his license plate.

Uneasiness skittered down her spine. Had the guy in the black hoody caught up to her? Even in all this traffic?

“Chase back on.” She floored the gas pedal and swerved around the car in front, the black car tailing her every move. Rather than stick to the interstate, Dakota detoured around downtown Austin, through a suburban neighborhood, and down a little farm-to-market road. She checked the mirror. A tiny black speck topped the hill behind her and grew steadily closer.

Not again. “Kane must be paying you a hefty sum, Mister.”

Once more Dakota punched the accelerator. “C’mon, old truck. You can do this.” Her clunker’s motor sputtered for a moment and then shot forward. She squinted her eyes against the brightening Texas day. It wouldn’t do any good to get away from this guy if she got stopped for speeding, nor would it help if he tailed her all the way to Miller’s Creek.

So for the rest of the day she zigzagged across central Texas, doing her best to give no rhyme or reason to her travel pattern, only stopping when she needed gas and when she could pump it in a highly public place.

A little after nine p.m., the car’s bright headlights disappeared behind a lengthy train at a crossing in some small nameless town that looked like all the others. Finally she’d caught a break. Rather than continue her trek, Dakota whipped the pickup into a dark parking lot of a towing company. Her jalopy fit right in with the other wrecked and disabled cars. The chain-link fence and tall stacks of tires provided further camouflage.

She waited well over an hour and used part of the time to call J.C. to let him know she was on her way. Then convinced she’d finally lost her pursuer, Dakota resumed the trip to Miller’s Creek, suddenly eager for this new leg of her journey to begin.

* * * * * * *

The repetitive beep of the alarm clock roused Chance to a sitting position. His fingers danced around the top of the bedside table until they landed on the alarm clock and brought a halt to the beeps. After a few blinks, his eyes adjusted to the darkness, but not to the lack of sleep. Would his body ever get used to the work schedule at the hospital? Not that he was complaining. For the first time in forever, he was finally moving forward and leaving the painful past behind.

Chance drug a hand across his stubbly chin and rolled out of bed with a groan. Who had called at such a late hour last night and disturbed his precious sleep? Whoever it was needed a few lessons on appropriate times to make a phone call.

He stumbled to the hall bathroom and washed his face, then headed to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Normally he didn’t drink the stuff, but since starting work at Miller’s Creek new hospital, his body craved it like his lungs craved air. Once the caffeine kicked in, he’d read his Bible, grab a quick workout, check on his grandfather, and eat a piece of fruit on the way to work, the familiar routine somehow comforting.

The coffee pot had barely started its cacophony of gurgles and hisses when the wooden floors creaked behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see his grandfather, his IV pole in tow. “You’re up awful early.”

Gramp’s gentle smile lit the eyes so much like his own. “Only ’cause of all that racket your making.” Then without warning, Gramp’s smile faded, and he reached for the old chrome and yellow dining table.

In two steps Chance was at his grandfather’s side and helped him sit. “You okay?”

The old man nodded weakly. “Yep. Just one of those dizzy spells.”

Chance’s chest tightened. If only the nursing skills he’d acquired over the past few years could reverse the aging progress and his grandfather’s quickly-failing health. He placed a hand on Grampa’s back and gazed down at him. “Sure you’re okay? Need anything?”

Grampa waved a hand in front of his face as though swatting a pesky fly. “Aaah, nothing that a few hours of sleep won’t cure. Sleep I’ll get as soon as you quit making such a ruckus.”

Chance chuckled and moved to the cabinets. “Wanna cup?”

“Sure.”

He poured two cups of the fragrant dark liquid and made his way to the table, a steaming cup in each hand. “Who called so late last night?”

An ornery look crossed Gramp’s face, but he said nothing. Instead he pursed his lips and blew on the coffee, then brought the cup to his lips.

Chance took a seat across from him. “You got a lady friend you’re hiding from me?”

“Hmph.” His grandfather followed the grunt with a snort. “Never had any plan on replacing your sweet Grandma. The only woman I ever loved.”

Longing swirled around his heart and pulled tight. Would he ever experience that kind of love again?

“Besides,” his grandfather’s voice softened, “you’re the one who needs a lady friend.”

Chance lowered his head, took a quick sip, and sat his cup down with a little more force than intended. “Don’t have time.”

“Then make time.”

Really? Were they going to have this discussion? Again? “C’mon, Gramps, cut it out. With a face like this no girl my age is interested in anything other than friendship.”

“Hogwash.” His grandfather’s typical smile disappeared. “You just need to quit feeling sorry for yourself and get out there and start living.”

“And just when do you suggest I do that, huh? I work twelve-hour shifts, and then come home to help you.” As soon as the words flew from his lips, he wished them back in his mouth. Chance shook his head. “Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”

Grampa’s shoulders slumped. “It’s the truth. Sorry to be such a bother. If you want me to hire somebo—”

“No way.” When he moved here for nursing to school, his plan had been to take care of Gramps, pay off student loans, and hopefully one day re-open the family drugstore. He was right on track, even though the hours were long and hard at the moment. Chance looked his grandfather straight in the eye. “I’m here because I want to be. One day I’ll have the opportunity to get out there and start living, as you put it. But right now, I’m doing exactly what I’m supposed to do, and wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Gramps turned his head away quickly, but not quick enough to hide the tears welling in his eyes. A sniffle sounded. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Not a problem.”

“And I need you to do it before you go to work.”

Chance eyed the old kitchen clock sporting a knife, spoon, and fork for hands. Just now 5:30 a.m. He should still have time to follow his routine, shower, and have enough time to run a quick errand before his shift started at seven. “Also not a problem. What is it?”

“I want you to run out to Levi’s farm.”

“What on earth for?”

“Just wanna make sure the place is secure. With the weather turning cooler, we might have some unsavory characters trying to camp out there over the winter.” Grampa’s jaw clamped in a stubborn pose.

“And why can’t I do it after work?”

“Dagnab it, boy. Will you just do what I ask?”

Chance’s eyebrows jumped up his scalp. Never had he seen his grandfather so testy. Was he really so bothered by possible vagrants, or was something else at play? “Okay.”

His grandfather stood in one liquid motion, and almost knocked his chair over in the process. He swiveled around and tottered from the room, mumbling under his breath.

What aliens had abducted his kind and gentle grandfather? And what crotchety old grump had they left in his place?

At 6 a.m. on the dot, Chance hurriedly backed his Ford 150 out of the driveway and headed toward the late Levi Kelly’s farm. Frustration headed the list of a myriad of emotions colliding within. To fulfill his grandfather’s strange request, he’d showered without reading his Bible or his workout, without taking the time to finish his one lousy cup of coffee. In addition, there was no fruit in the house, which meant Gramps had finished off the bananas and forgotten to write them down on the grocery list, all of which explained his grouchiness.

He rubbed the nape of his neck. But the one thing that bothered him most, like a hidden undercurrent beneath it all, was a crippling fear. Fear that being on the farm would resurrect memories he’d worked long and hard to forget.

The sky took on pale purple hues as he headed south on the farm-to-market road which led to a dirt road and the old farmhouse. As much as he tried to put Amy out of his mind on this foggy fall morning, he could not. Instead, thoughts of her elbowed their way to the forefront of his memory–her perfect smile, curly blond hair, infectious laugh, and flirtatious emerald eyes. Why were the memories as vivid as though they’d happened only yesterday?

He gritted his teeth and gunned the motor as familiar questions returned. Why had she left so suddenly? He played over the events of their last night together. How the evening ended was her fault, not his. But the resulting heartache was due to his own poor judgment. That’s what he got for falling for a girl of questionable character.

Chance reached the turn-off and slowed his speed to make the turn onto the seldom-traveled bumpy dirt road. As expected, the washboard-like road rattled his new truck, and threw up a cloud of chalk-white dust behind him.

Great. Add washing the truck to his grievance list.

A few minutes later he pulled onto the private road that stretched over rolling hills until it came to rest behind a grove of pecan trees. Right beyond the pecan orchard sat the two-story farmhouse, so secluded only those who knew it existed could find it. And a mile past that the creek and old bridge where…

He rounded the final corner, so over grown it no longer seemed familiar, and his jaw dropped. The old house, once a beautiful yellow among a forest of green, was sorely in need of a paint job, raw wood exposed, bleached gray by the hot Texas sun. No lights shone from the windows, but a rusty old jalopy of a truck sat out front. Gramps had been right after all.

Chance pulled his pickup as close as he dared and killed the engine, his eyes trained on the house for even a flicker of movement.

Nothing.

Gravel crunched beneath his boots, the only sound in the mostly dark morning. He made his way all the way around the house to look for any sign of the intruder. Quietly, he climbed the steps to the front porch, weathered wood sagging beneath his weight. Add new decking to the much-needed paint job for the old house. Chance paused at the front door, his ears strained for any sound within the old house.

Suddenly from behind, the distinctive sound of a shotgun being pumped reached his ears, made louder by the quiet of the countryside. Heart in throat, he instinctively raised his hands. But before he could speak, a female voice sounded, a voice he never expected to hear again.

“I don’t know who you are, Mister, but you’re about two seconds shy of getting your backside loaded with buckshot.”

Texas Roads ~ A hurting seeker searches for home.

A Path Less Traveled ~ A grieving widow regains faith in the midst of tragedy.

The Way of Grace ~ A justice-seeking perfectionist discovers grace.

Pilgrimage of Promise ~ Broken promises, enduring love…

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Truth With a Capital T ~ Seek Him!

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Since the beginning of time, one of Satan’s biggest lies has been that truth is relative and can be found in many different places. The enemy of the human soul used that same old lie on Eve in the Garden of Eden when he asked her: “Did God really say…?” (Genesis 3:1)

Truth Defined

If you allow your flawed human logic to convince you that God either doesn’t exist or is too lofty to concern Himself with you, then put this tidbit of information through your logical brain. Gravity is one of the undisputed laws of nature on planet Earth. But suppose I were to tell you that gravity might be true for you but not for me. Does that make gravity any less true?

God’s Word firmly contradicts Satan’s lie with the truth words of Jesus: “I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father but by (through) Me.” ~John 14:6, Amplified Bible

Truth Denied

Dear person, made by God and in His image, if you are searching for capital-T Truth in any other place than Jesus the Christ, our Savior and Lord, you are on a dead-end street. Don’t believe the lies of the enemy. He determined long ago to bring about your death and destruction, and deception is his trademark tool.

Truth Determined

Instead, turn to the truth of who God is and the truth of His Word. Look around at what He’s created–not just proof of His existence, but also His continued sovereign control over all. Seek Him, pray to Him. He’s there, waiting for you.

Continue to seek Him and His Word until this fact becomes truth in your heart. Truth is not merely a concept or a matter of relativity. Truth is a Person, and His name is Jesus.



Father God, my prayer today is that all of us would look to You and You Alone, as the Truth. I pray for all those caught up in the lie of Satan. Help them to find You as the absolute and unequivocal TRUTH. In the precious name of Jesus I pray, Amen.

ARTICLE by Christian author Randy Alcorn:

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The Way of Grace – Win a Free Digital Copy

March 14-15, 2014 only! Win a digital copy of The Way of Grace, a Miller’s Creek Novel by Cathy Bryant. To enter the contest, work the puzzle below and add your solving time in the comments below. (Scroll to the end of the post to find the puzzle.) All entrants will be eligible for the drawing (via Random.org), but the FASTEST TIME will get a double entry! PLUS, you get an extra entry for every person who you share this with that enters the contest as well. Please have them mention in the comments that you referred them, so I can add your name to the drawing an extra time or times! IMPORTANT!!! Please leave me a way to contact you via e-mail so I can send you your prize! If you prefer, you can enter the contest via my Facebook Author page at https://www.facebook.com/Cathy.Bryant.Author rather than this blog post. If you enter via Facebook, please be sure that we’re friends so I can let you know if you’re the winner! Here’s the book info:

THE WAY OF GRACE
A Miller’s Creek Novel by Cathy Bryant
4.7 stars out of 5 at Amazon.com
 

In pursuit of justice, in need of grace . . .

A justice-seeking perfectionist pursues her dream of a perfect life in her hometown of Miller’s Creek, Texas, until a fall from perfection at the hands of a master manipulator leaves her teetering between vengeance and grace. Then she’s caught in the cross-fire of a personal vendetta, and her dreams disintegrate in a heap of ashes. Can she–especially in the face of life-altering circumstances–bestow on others the grace God has lavished on her?

“…more than just a story.” ~Amazon reviewer

To Purchase a Print Copy, click HERE.

To Purchase the Kindle edition, click HERE.

“ This is the third book that I have read from the Miller’s Creek series. ” MississippiGirl2013  |  11 reviewers made a similar statement

“ The character’s were well written and the storyline was very interesting. ” Cathy  |  9 reviewers made a similar statement

 

Tweet Pic ABU with Jigsaw Puzzle

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The Way of Grace SALE ~ Buy Sooner Rather Than Later

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The Way of Grace (Christian romantic suspense novel rated at 4.7 out of 5 stars) is on sale March 14-19, 2014 at Amazon.com (Kindle version only).

SPECIAL NOTE: The sale price of the book will fluctuate, starting at 99-cents on March 14, move to $1.99 on March 16, up to $2.99 on March 18, and returning to regular price on March 20. So obviously you want to buy sooner rather than later!

CLICK TO Tweet: THE WAY OF GRACE #MillersCreekNovel 4.7stars #RomanticSuspense by @Cathy_Bryant on #SALE for 99cents Mar14-15 http://ctt.ec/7L3d4+

THE WAY OF GRACE Book Description:

In pursuit of justice, in need of grace…

A justice-seeking perfectionist dreams of a perfect life in her hometown. A fall from perfection at the hands of a master manipulator leaves her teetering between vengeance and grace. Then she’s caught in the cross-hairs of a personal vendetta and her dreams disintegrate in a pile of ashes.  Can she–even in the midst of life-altering circumstances–bestow on others the grace God has lavished on her? 

What Amazon Readers and Reviewers Are Saying About THE WAY OF GRACE:

“…more than just a story.” -Amazon Reviewer

“The character’s were well written and the storyline was very interesting. ” – Cathy| 22 reviewers made a similar statement

“I enjoyed the other two books in this series, so I was expecting great reading with this one.”  -Glenajo| 20 reviewers made a similar statement

“We all need reminders every day of how faithful God can be and when we go through the rough times I pray that God will remind us of his goodness, grace and mercy.” salsee6| 24 reviewers made a similar statement

The Other Miller’s Creek Novels:

TEXAS ROADS (Christian romance; 4.5 out of 5 stars at Amazon.com) ~ One secret kept, another uncovered…

A PATH LESS TRAVELED (Christian romance; 4.5 out of 5 stars at Amazon.com) ~ A widow, her traumatized son, & the man who loves them both…

PILGRIMAGE OF PROMISE (Christian love story; 4.9 out of 5 stars at Amazon.com) ~ Broken promises, enduring love…

Have you read and enjoyed the Miller’s Creek Novels already? We’d love to have you JOIN our Miller’s Creek Reader’s Group on Facebook or JOIN the Miller’s Creek Main Street Tearm!

If You Have the Time and Don’t Mind, Would You Please…

…Visit Cathy’s Facebook Author Page and “LIKE”

…Visit THE WAY OF GRACE Facebook Page and “LIKE”

 

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Forgiving the Inexcusable

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At our cabin in the mountains winter encroached all at once, dumping eighteen inches of snow. To make matters worse, temps hovered in the teens for a week, and thick clouds refused the sunlight.

The winter snow receded much more slowly than it arrived, the last bit disappearing during the final days of February. Then, just as I grew used to warm days, winter reminded me she was still around.

Not Forgiving ~ Winter in our Heart

Isn’t wintertime a vivid picture of not forgiving–of resentment, bitterness, and holding on to grudges?

I know. It’s not our fault that the inexcusable happened, that someone encroached in an area in our lives to which they had no right. Like a winter storm, a weight of hurt unloads in our hearts, leaving us frozen and cold.

Sometimes that iciness seems like the easiest way to handle the hurt. It somehow numbs us to the full sensation of pain.

Or so we think.

Not Forgiving ~ The Cost

In truth, not forgiving and maintaining that icy cold resentment comes at great cost and energy to our personal lives. Much like a frown, we use more muscles to hold on to our anger than we do in letting go. Meanwhile, to add insult to our injury, our offender seems content and happy, even unaware of our pain.

Sometimes we begin to thaw until one brief mention or memory brings fresh hurt to our hearts and winter returns.

Forgiving ~ The Warmth of God’s Love

So how can we reach a place of forgiving–of thawing out our hearts? The only way is to allow the warmth of God’s love to shine and realize how He forgave the inexcusable in us.

Once His warmth spreads relief through our cold and hardened hearts, we comprehend more fully what our offenses cost Him. Only then can we shuck our icy layers of not forgiving–all the bitterness, resentment, and vengeance–and instead respond to our offender with love and grace.

As I continue to work on edits and re-writes of A Bridge Unbroken (book 5 in the Miller’s Creek Novels), I sometimes struggle to adequately portray the concept of truly forgiving others. At other times I’m overwhelmed by just how much God has forgiven me. When I’m tempted to hold a grudge, to hang on to resentment and bitterness, to bemoan how poorly someone has treated me, just one miniscule thought of God’s forgiving the inexcusable in me is enough to put everything in proper perspective.

The Way of Grace ~ A story of grace and forgiveness in spite of personal devastation.

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