Amanda Stephan's Blog: God is Good, God is Great, page 21

Caught in the Arms

of another man.

e. Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. Yes. I'm not joking, either. But before I proceed and you unfriend me on Facebook or stop following this blog or Twitter, may I beg your patience, please?

As some of you know me personally, you know I love a good laugh. I love to make people laugh. So it shouldn't surprise anyone that I'm often at the middle of an embarrassing moment or situation. Which causes the laughter. And jokes. And funny little pictures posted on my Facebook wall. (You know who you are, but just in case you're unsure, your first name is Daniel. And your last is Paul. And you're a BRAT.)

I not only like to make people laugh, I'm a girly girl. Yes, I know how to shoot a gun (and hit the target), use a garden tiller, roof houses, build chicken coops and sheds, play baseball, etc, but when it comes to going to church or going out, I want to look pretty. Very pretty. Heels, nice dresses, makeup, jewelry. The whole kit and caboodle. This past Sunday was no exception.

Donning my newest dress with a psychedelic pattern (turns out that was a great idea), my strappy heels, my hair, well, it was as nice as it was going to get with its attitude, and my makeup, I pronounced myself ready to go. The children and I load up the car (hubster was at work) and dooty-do, we go to church. No problems yet.

The problem started when I had to go to the bathroom. While I was young, my parents taught us that we never, ever, under any circumstances disrupt church. Which included getting up and going to the bathroom. So, still being in that mindset, I struggle and finally make it through Sunday school. Of course, when you have to go so badly that you know you're going to explode within the next few seconds if you don't hurry, you tend to walk a little, well, funny.


And there he was. The man. (As well as a group of people that I chatted with on my way to the ladies room.) All was going well until I got to the dreaded first step. You know the one. The first step is always the hardest, right? (Especially when you're already walking funny because heavens to Betsy, you're going to explode!)

Then it got me. Well, actually, the first step's lip grabbed my heels. Yes, you read that right. Plural. Not just one heel. No. We're talking both. And then I went lateral. Right. Smack. Dab. Into the arms of....


another man. 
Who happens to be married to a fantastic friend of mine.
All in front of a GROUP of people I had just chatted with. Some of which were... men.
Oh dear, I looked like I was planking and using D to help me.
And the only thought I had? 


Thank you DEAR JESUS, no one SAW my UNDERWEAR! 


After righting myself, turning fourteen shades of red, yes it's possible, and laughing like a lunatic, I made it to the bathroom. Where I had to situate myself and of course, take care of business.
Hiding like a thief in the bathroom was not an option as I'm the church pianist, I ventured back in front of the group that had just watched my unladylike debacle, (oh goodness there were new people,) and proceed to warm up my cold, icy fingers for the morning worship service.

Please stand and turn to page 147...


What was the title, you ask?
Leaning on the Everlasting Arms. <~ no joke. God has such a sense of humor, doesn't He?

Proverbs 17:22 ~ A merry heart doeth good like a medicine; but a broken spirit drieth the bones.
Proverbs 15:13 ~ A merry heart maketh a cheerful countenance: but by sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
Psalm 128:1-2 ~ Blessed is every one that feareth the LORD; that walketh in his ways. For thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands: happy shalt thou be, and it shall be well with thee.

When I told my parents later that afternoon what had happened, between their gasps for air from laughing so hard, my mother asked if I was embarrassed. The honest truth? Absolutely, with out a shadow of a doubt, I was embarrassed. But one thing I've learned in my 39 years of living?
I'd be missing out on quite a bit of entertainment if I didn't learn to laugh at myself!

Psalm 12 AudioBible Series

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We All Need a Champion

was cruising along the web this evening, and I came across this awesome site ~ www.WriteUncaged.com by Mary DeMuth. Let me tell you, it's an excellent site. If you haven't been there and you're a writer, please. Hurry. It's fantastic with Ooodles & Zooodles of great stuff. But WAIT! You haven't read the rest of my post yet! :)

I was poking around this place, I may have completely lost track of time and allowed my children to stay up until almost midnight. (They were sooooo quiet...) and I saw a blog post entitled, "Why You Need a Champion." Being a writer, I'm supposed to know how to get my thoughts across, right? (Ha. Good luck with that, I hope it works out for you.) but as I read her post, I almost started to cry.



She said exactly what I couldn't. And in a way that made goosebumps rise on my arms. I need a champion. As a Christian, I know I can (and do) apply this often to my salvation as Jesus Christ is my Savior, but as a writer, now that just kind of blew my mind. What? I need a Champion for my writing?

Absolutely.

See, writers are people. We have feelings, we get down, discouraged, and for many, we play with the idea of quitting. (But that's kind of funny when you think of it. There's always paper and pen nearby, and trust me. When you have to write,  you HAVE to write!)
In this article, she mentioned how she found a best friend because God had sent her a champion ~

Someone who believed in her writing.
Someone who prayed for her.
Someone to motivate her.
Someone who cheered her on when she thought about giving up or when things were looking up for her. Gee, I don't know about you, but I'd like one of those. Yes, please. And make mine chocolate, too! 

Then at the bottom, she said something that caught my attention more than anything else. She said...

If you’re struggling in your writing career, ask God to send you champion.

and it was like she said it aloud. To me. 
What? Ask God to send me a champion? How very simple, yet so profound. I'm a praying person. I pray about everything. Little things. Big things. Things that would make you laugh and think I had lost my mind. But this. I haven't done this yet. So here I go.

Dear Heavenly Father,
If You are willing, and if I'm doing Your will, would You please send me a champion? Someone that will help motivate me, pray for me, encourage me, even yell at me when I'm down or feel like quitting? Someone that will go to bat for me? I want nothing more than to do Your will. I want to make You happy with whatever I do in my life. Please God, give me a champion. Because I can't do this alone.
In Jesus' name ~ amen.


And that, my friend, was liberating. I feel as though a load has been lifted off my shoulders because
"The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much." James 5:16
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Psalm 11 AudioBible Series

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Pennsylvania Patchwork by Kate Lloyd Book Review/Tour

About Pennsylvania Patchwork:


Seattle native Holly Fisher is smitten by Lancaster County, its simplicity and her long lost relatives. In the sequel to bestselling Leaving Lancaster, Holly embraces the Amish culture, learning to slow down to see what --- and who --- really matters.

Meeting the family that her mother had kept hidden from her, Holly comes face to face with her real life and blood legacy. She also falls for the charming Zach, a handsome Mennonite veterinarian who is everything she's ever wanted in a husband: confident, kind, successful, and authentic. And Zach proposes marriage. Is this too soon? Is this the right choice? Mother and Amish grandmother think she's rushing into too much of a lifestyle change. Holly is in love with Zach and that precludes everything. Until she meets an attractive Amish man. And an old suitor shows up.

Pennyslvania Patchwork is the moving, richly told story of one woman's heart, her faith and trust, and the choices she makes. Never easy, but one choice can change your destiny.

Purchase a copy: http://ow.ly/lG7GU

Meet Kate: 

Author Kate Lloyd is a passionate observer of human relationships. A native of Baltimore, Kate spends time with family and friends in Lancaster County, PA, the inspiration for her novels. She is a member of the Lancaster County Mennonite Historical Society. Kate and her husband live in the Pacific Northwest. Kate studied painting and sculpture in college. She's worked a variety of jobs, including car salesman and restaurateur.

Learn more about Kate at http://www.katelloyd.net
Follow the Tour!
My Thoughts:
Esther, a repentant prodigal daughter returns to her Amish family hoping to find forgiveness and healing for a past she cannot change. To a faith she left behind. Holly, her daughter, who was raised not knowing much of anything about her mother's family, is enthralled to be welcomed into her Amish grandmother's open arms and she's excited to finally have an extended family. Once a city girl, can Holly find peace and contentment with a simple life? And will Zach, her Mennonite fiance be all he's supposed to be, or is he hiding a secret so painful that she can't get over it?

Pennsylvania Patchwork is the perfect title to this book. Flawed, patched, and imperfect human beings who need forgiveness from those they've wronged as well as from themselves. This is a different kind of Amish book. Englishers, Amish, and Mennonite alike learn to accept others for who they are, mistakes and all, and love them anyway. This is the second book in Ms. Lloyd's series, and though I haven't read the first, this was written in a way that you could understand what was going on without much trouble. It did make me want to read the first book to learn the backstory of each character. I was kind of surprised that I felt more of a connection to Zach and Esther's characters than I did the main character, Holly. There were times I thought Holly acted too childish for her age, and Esther's mother Anna I found abrasive and uncaring. I could sympathize and understand why Esther felt compelled to leave in the first place.
Overall, I liked the book.


*My thanks to the publisher for sending me a copy in exchange for an honest review. This was not required to be favorable and it is my own.*

Tolerance Should Equal Reciprocity. Not Bullying!

One morning, bright and early, my teenaged daughter received an email. She ever so kindly forwarded it to me.
And then it all hit the fan...

About one week ago, my daughter was obligated to delete a person from her Good Books for Picky Teenagers group on GoodReads. Being my daughter, she's used to rules, abiding by rules, and so, she decided it would be best to have a system of rules on her group. Nothing huge or terrible. Just the usual items.No swearing.No debating about anything other than book characters.No giving out personal information.Nothing that would stop the world and make most people cry discrimination. Let's make this a fun group, type of thing. Being a homeschooled child, she also isn't allowed on the internet without express permission after all schoolwork is finished. Imagine her surprise when she received a few emails from several of the people in her group complaining about one person in particular verbally attacking them. So, seeing as how it's her group and she must take care of situations that arise, I allowed her to check things out.Early in the morning.Before all the schoolwork was complete. Ha. Guess I should have thought about that one...Anyway. This woman, who, according to her profile, was 34 years old and ended up calling everyone that didn't agree with her views on issues terrible, horrible, turn-your-face-red-and-make-you-FURIOUS type of names. She even went so far as to post pictures for everyone's enjoyment  (insert sarcasm here). Being the polite child, and rather argumentative, (this time it was totally all right with me) she proceeds to give Scriptural answers to this person, and deletes her off the group. I mean, hey. That's what the rules stated, right?ell, evidently she struck a nerve with this woman as she received a hate-filled, knock your socks off email this morning. A week AFTER the whole issue. I haven't read such horrible language in I don't know how long. Trust me. My ears were burning, and this momma bear was READY to TURN IT ON!


In essence, this woman, who is certainly old enough to know better, not only told my daughter to kill herself, to do such and such (think horrible language), and that she was a (ahem, we won't go there either. It wasn't the typical swear word for a girl, either) and blah blah blah.Her beef? She didn't like the fact that my daughter didn't agree with certain issues. She didn't like how this teenager told her something was *wrong*. So, instead of agreeing to disagree, being mature about the whole thing and allowing someone else to exercise their Freedom of Speech, she resorts to bullying, using abusive and atrocious language, and more.Whatever happened to reciprocity? Why is it that only certain people are allowed to voice their opinions while the others must remain quiet? Doesn't sound like freedom of speech to me. Sounds more like bullying.What's your opinion?

MYO Monday ~ From Drab to Fab!

I went to an auction a few years ago, and I fell in love.I didn't know if it was an antique, but oooh, when I first saw this baby, I knew I wanted it.I'll admit that I coveted. I lusted after it.I yearned to have it.I prayed that God would allow it to belong to me, and when bidding time came for it, oh yeah. You can believe that I was cut-throat about obtaining this table. 

It wasn't in wonderful shape, I'll admit. The people I was with didn't like it and didn't hesitate to tell me about it either. Loudly.They sneered.They cajoled.They groaned and grimaced.I laughed in the face of their derision.
If there's one thing I know about myself, if I like something, I like it. No matter what other people think. And this table with its Queen Anne legs and scratched off surface that told stories of its own, spoke to me. It had potential to be something beautiful. 

So, after a few years of procrastination, I finally pulled my baby outside and began to make it the way I saw it in my mind. Beautiful. Bold. Refreshed.
The top was really the only thing I needed to refinish as the legs were fine, so I stripped it down until all the finish was off, being very meticulous not to get any goo on the sides. (a.k.a. - I'm a newbie at stripping and refinishing things, and I didn't want to hurt it beyond repair.)

It wasn't enough that I wanted to redo the table. That's all well and fine. But I wanted something different. Something that not everyone else has.Something that had my personality. (Hehehe, this should scare you.) 
Using tailor's chalk, string, and a piece of metal to anchor the string to, I traced two circular patterns in the center of the table, pulled out my wall stencil and a lighter shade of brown, and began stencilinginside the smaller chalk circle, stopping at the edge of the circle.
Because we must be different, right?Unique.

Next, using a smaller stencil that would complement the interior design, I placed it evenly around the perimeter of the table and stenciled the outer edge.
The next step was not the easiest, I'll admit.I had to wait for the stencil paint to dry. ugh.
A few hours later, J and I took the table back outside where I could stain the entire top until my heart was content.
I was happy.I had a paintbrush, a free weekend (very rare), and it was sunny. Oh yeah...!

And this is the finished project. Now all I need are chairs...
 But I wonder. Is this the way God sees us? Drab and worn out when we're in our sins, but having great potential to beSomething Beautiful if we would only ask?What could we be with the gentle touch of the Master's Hand?
Amanda Stephan~Christian AuthorBooksByAmanda.comJoin my Newsletter for *free* members only gifts!           

Psalm 10 AudioBible Series

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Ruby for Women - Free Magazine

What you'll find in an issue of Ruby for Women:


CraftsTutorialsRecipesDevotionsPoemsPuzzles...and more!Enjoy and share a copy today!

New Friends

"As I went back across the street, I thought, "Maybe that grin is the start of a friendship." I had the feeling that something significant might have happened in my life-quiet but important."
A few weeks ago, a question was asked on Facebook; 
"If a stranger smiled at you, would you return the smile?" 
and I had to stop and think. My honest answer is, yes. Yes I would and I do. But more often, I'm the one instigating the action in the first place. The interesting thing to me is, the stranger's reaction.They look startled, at first.Then they do a double-take. Perhaps to make sure I meant it. When our eyes lock and my smile hasn't slipped, they return it. (Most of the time.)
But my favorite part is watching their eyes. (I'm one of those people that look straight in other's eyes.It's just something that I've always done. I have nothing to hide, right?)Their eyes light up and suddenly, you can just tell...
you made someone's day better.

Just by a smile.And it was worth it. Every teeny, tiny miniscule fraction of a second.
"Our encounter didn't square with my previous notions of Norman. He was someone other than the person I had taken him to be, although who he really was remained a mystery." ~~from the book, A Man Called Norman: The Unforgettable Story of an Uncommon Friendship



Sometimes that's how the best of friends start
a smile...



I'm going to finish reading A Man Called Norman and make it a practice and habit to smilemore often!Hopefully it'll make someone else's day better ~ including mine!