Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 13

Everything Changed

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Everything changed at dawn.

Light revealed the emptiness left behind

when Life got up and walked out of the tomb.

He does that, you know. Jesus does the unexpected.

Even though He told His friends (and enemies)

He wouldn’t stay dead,

they were surprised.

From this side of that morning

we scowl at their disbelief.

So why,

when He tells us that He is with us,

do we stutter and doubt?

He keeps His word.

He loves us.

He lives!

~

Luke 24

“Easter Song” (Hear the Bells Ringing)Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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Would He Ever Forget?

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

A.D. 33   
Bethany, a village near Jerusalem
Six days before Passover

Asher pulled his cloak tighter, wishing he’d worn his heavier wool garment this evening. The short walk to his neighbor’s house warmed him some, but the air nipped around his ears.

Much remained to be done before Passover. It seemed an odd time to send for guests, but his neighbor insisted, and it would be good to share a meal and relax. The teacher would be there with his associates.

As expected, Asher found the table laden with dates and olives, honey, nuts, and figs, bread, and cheese. A fragrant wine filled each cup, and expectation shivered in the flames of the lamps. The teacher had visited often and the last time, had created quite a stir. Asher shifted on his cushion at the low table, wondering what the evening might yet bring.

He reclined near the guest of honor at the head of the table, their host at the opposite end. One sister served, as expected, but the other sister—well, one never knew what she might do, and the sharp crack of pottery against a table leg confirmed Asher’s suspicions.

There she was, kneeling near the teacher. Or prophet. Some called him a king, and Asher dare not laugh at their earnest beliefs. Yet, look at this bunch. An itinerate Galilean and his motley followers. Such a mix—from wealthy tax collector to smelly fishermen.

Soon the pungent odor of sweet nard rose among them, no doubt the most expensive thing in this home. Asher shook his head, surprised there was any left at all after what happened the last time he was there.

Perfume thickened the air, and Asher leaned back to see the reason. The woman poured the nard on the teacher’s feet. If that were not enough to unsettle everyone there, she uncovered her hair in their presence and rubbed the oil into his feet with it, cradling them in her hands as if they were holy.

Asher shivered, and the room stilled like a tomb—an unwelcome metaphor—and he regretted not choosing his heavier cloak.

What in God’s holy name had come upon this woman?

Never had he witnessed such a thing. A priest, prophet, or king was anointed, but on the head, never the feet. And this man was certainly no king. This woman’s behavior was most unusual.

Whispers broke out around the table, and one man raised his voice. “Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor? That is a year’s wages poured out!”

Asher wondered the same.

“Leave her alone.”

At the teacher’s rebuke, the accuser drew back and sank into himself. Asher cast his gaze to a plate of olives. Others retreated into silence.

“She saved the perfume for the day of my burial,” the honored one said, looking with deepest regard into the woman’s eyes.

Burial, indeed. Asher drew his cloak tighter as unbidden memory played out the recent scene of his neighbor lying in a nearby tomb, bound in burial cloths—until this man spoke his name and commanded he come out.

Commanded! How absurd. Yet—Asher had been there.

This prophet/teacher had predicted his own death, but at Passover? Many at the table planned to leave tomorrow and go to Jerusalem. Some believed this man was the Coming One, Messiah, and expected him to do anything but die. Surely he would ride into the city during the festival and set everyone free from Roman oppression.

Asher glanced around the table. Who among them could free the Jews from anything?

The sweet odor had seeped into his cloak and tunic. Others across the table were discovering the same. It hung heavy in the air of this closed room, and Asher wondered why they hadn’t eaten outside.

What could have driven this woman to such extravagance and pushed her into impropriety?

Again memory stirred. Yes, the tomb incident. That must be it. Her brother had died, and she and her sister wept for days. Indeed four days. Yet this one at the table with anointed feet called him back to life. Asher knew it to be true though the High Priest and his officials scoffed and called it trickery.

But Asher had helped others push the stone from the opening. He had taken the first cold, decaying breath of the tomb across his face. All his senses screamed that his neighbor was dead, and yet …

He glanced across the table, finding tears in his friend’s eyes as he considered the anointed one. This whole affair was most strange indeed.

Adoration – that must be it. Incomprehensible gratitude for the gift of life.

After the meal, some of the other guests stirred to leave. But there was no escaping the fragrance that lingered. It would cling to each of them tonight and invade their homes as well as their thoughts. For this woman’s sacrifice had enveloped everyone and bathed them all with the perfume of her offering, even Asher.

How would he ever forget?

~

A retelling of John 12:1-11

How would he ever forget?
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Go In Peace

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Two weekends this month I have a small part in a play* about the life of Christ as well as the life of a wizened old judge whose dead friend pays him a visit.

It is the second production I have participated in over the years and in each of them I played the part of a woman who did not fit in with the crowd. In fact, both women were scorned. But to each one Jesus said the same thing: “Go in peace. Your faith has saved you/made you well.”

That simple phrase delivers a powerful message.

How many of us long to go in peace? Live in peace. Sleep in peace.

In my personal life, peace has become one of my most valuable possessions. It cannot be manufactured and it cannot be counterfeited. True peace has staying power in spite of my own ups and downs, and it cannot be taken from me by any outside force.

Such peace is ushered in by faith, and yet, I would not even know faith if it had not been tested during less than peaceful situations.

Most, if not all, of us place our faith in material things or our own abilities. It’s natural. We have faith that the lights will come on, the car will start, the weather will clear.

Yet if those things fail us, what remains?

For me, Christ remains, and He speaks peace to me when those things fail to meet my expectations. He offers peace in sorrow and in gladness. His presence in my life has brought me incomparable peace.

Recently I heard stories of people martyred for their faith in Christ. In the recounting of what they endured peace is the common denominator. Peace carried them through horrible suffering and torture. Peace sustained them in separation from their families, and it strengthened them to face death rather than deny the only God.

Yes, the only God. For only God can provide something so indestructible, unconquerable, and sustaining as true peace.

Remember hearing, “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt”?

How about changing that time-worn saying to, “because I’ve BEEN THERE, I can DO THIS, and I’ve GOT HIS PEACE”?

Tell God what you need,
and thank him for all he has done.
Then you will experience
God’s peace
which exceeds anything we can understand.
His peace
will guard your hearts and minds
as you live in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7

~

*”The Witness and the Judge,” by Ray Linebaugh

Go In Peace
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The Refiner’s Fire

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Please welcome my guest blogger today, author Susan G. Mathis, as she talks about something we all experience …

The Refiner’s Fire

Have you ever gone through the refiner’s fire? I’m sure you have, and so did my characters in Mary’s Moment who had just survived a Great Fire that took more than one hundred businesses, cottages, and a hotel and nearly destroyed their community.

We may not face a fire that destroys our community, but we face fiery tests nearly every day. May God refine us in those seasons so we can become pure as gold.

Excerpt from Mary’s Moment:

Reverend Thompson addressed the congregation. “Our text for today is from the prophet Malachi. ‘Behold, I will send my messenger, and he shall prepare the way before me … for he is like a refiner’s fire, and like fullers’ soap: And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver: and he shall purify the sons of Levi, and purge them as gold and silver, that they may offer unto the Lord an offering in righteousness.’”

Mary shifted in her seat, glancing at George and little Robbie, just across the aisle to her left. She sighed at the thought of what could have been.

The preacher interrupted her musings before they took a dark turn. “Most of us have watched Mr. Block blow glass and pound it into something beautiful. And many of you have seen a smithy heat metal to soften it so he can hammer and mold it into a useful product. Perhaps a few of you may have even seen a silversmith or goldsmith refine the precious metal to remove the impurities. Such a skilled metallurgist puts the silver or gold into a crucible—a container that won’t melt. Then he puts the crucible into a fire and heats it to nearly two thousand degrees until the silver or gold melts.” He let his words sink in. “After it cools, he scrapes off the impurities that have risen to the top. Then, he repeats the process again and again until there is nothing left that taints the precious metal. Only then is the silver or gold pure.

“Can you imagine how blistering two thousand degrees must be? Remember the fire a few weeks ago? That fire might have been a thousand, maybe even fifteen-hundred degrees. But to purify precious metals, the fire must be even hotter.”

Mary slipped her handkerchief from her reticule and swiped a stream of perspiration that ran down her cheek. What a topic for such a hot day.

Reverend Thompson continued. “In truth, the difficulties and battles we face in our lives refine and purify us. That spiritual purification process removes the sin and impurities of our lives so we can better reflect Him. And sometimes that involves suffering.

“We may have more refining fires ahead of us, and we must be on guard to never become bitter or unforgiving or hardened by those troubles. Our God is not a cruel God. Our troubles may be painful, but in the end, our experiences will purify us to reflect Him better—if we allow it. Is it easy? Certainly not. But nothing God allows is pointless. He will work within our most difficult times so we can reflect Him better. May we stand strong in the midst of troubles and come out of it all as gold. Amen.”

~

Nothing God allows is pointless.
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About Mary’s Moment:

Summer 1912

Thousand Island Park’s switchboard operator ​Mary Flynn is christened the community heroine for her quick action that saves dozens of homes from a terrible fire. Less than a month later, when another disastrous fire rages through the Park, Mary loses her memory as she risks her life in a neighbor’s burning cottage. Will she remember the truth of who she is or be deceived by a treacherous scoundrel?

Widowed fireman George Flannigan is enamored by the brave, raven-haired lass and takes every opportunity to connect with Mary. But he has hidden griefs of his own that cause him great heartache. When George can’t stop the destructive Columbian Hotel fire from eradicating more than a hundred businesses and homes, he is distraught. Yet George’s greater concern is Mary. Will she remember their budding relationship or be forever lost to him?      

~

Readers of Christian historical romance will enjoy this exciting tale set in 1912 Thousand Island Park, NY.

Reviewers are saying: “Mathis’s attention to detail and rich history is classic Mathis, and no one does it better.”—Margaret Brownley, N.Y. Times bestselling author.

ABOUT SUSAN:

Susan G Mathis is an international award-winning, multi-published author of stories set in the beautiful Thousand Islands, her childhood stomping ground in upstate NY. Susan has been published more than twenty-five times in full-length novels, novellas, and non-fiction books. She has ten in her fiction line including, The Fabric of Hope, Christmas Charity, Katelyn’s Choice, Devyn’s Dilemma, Peyton’s Promise, Sara’s Surprise, Reagan’s Reward, Colleen’s Confession, Rachel’s Reunion, and Mary’s Moment. Her book awards include two Illumination Book Awards, three American Fiction Awards, two Indie Excellence Book Awards, and four Literary Titan Book Awards. Reagan’s Reward is a Selah Awards finalist. Susan is also a published author of two premarital books, two children’s picture books, stories in a dozen compilations, and hundreds of published articles. She makes her home in Colorado Springs and enjoys traveling around the world but returns each summer to enjoy the Thousand Islands. Visit www.SusanGMathis.com/fiction for more.

Social media links:

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Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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(c) 2023 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.

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Not Without Horses and Women

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

It has been said that the American West was “hell on horses and women.” Without either, the Wild West may never have been.

Fits right in with Women’s History Month, doesn’t it?

Alice Marriott, author of a book with the same colorful title, Hell on Horses and Women, quotes an unidentified cowman as saying cattle ranching was a “fine business for men and mules, but it’s hell on horses and women.”

Whichever it was, the West or ranching, the settings are pretty close.

Marriott’s book, which I have not read and, therefore, cannot recommend though I’m about to read it, traces the intriguing lives of ranch women in the United States from 1895 to the 1950s. I doubt, as others have noted, that much would have happened during that time period without horses and women, and in my opinion, the picture on the cover is worth the price of the book.

Marriott has done her research homework.

As an author of historical fiction, I spend a great deal of my life and time in research. I want to know what the real story is before I step into a certain era and make one up. My specific genre is inspirational romance – love stories that end well with an undercurrent of God’s love and grace.

I’ve often been asked which of my seventeen novels and novellas is my favorite. I have an answer that I can’t explain, reason out, or justify. I like all my stories—why would I write something I didn’t like?—but yes, there is one novel I’m drawn to more than the others and one novella that tugs on my heart. The novella is The Wrangler’s Woman.

I’m not here to pitch the book but the point of the book as noted by an Amazon reviewer. She liked (heroine) Corra Jameson’s influence on not just the daughter she was hired to help, but on the entire family.

“… the effect of her presence in their lives is heartwarming. The romance adds to the story, but for me the highlight was the change in the family after Corra had been there for a couple of months.”

Isn’t this what we want in our own lives? To have an influence on our family and see people change because of our presence and our beliefs?

Scripture has a lot to say about a woman who makes a difference, whether in the Wild West, on far-flung ranches, or in homes of today. Chapter 31 of Proverbs gives an entire list of such a woman’s characteristics and notes the following results:

Her children rise up and called her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her.
Proverbs 31:28

Is there a woman in your life who impacted you for the better? Women’s History Month might be the perfect time to *tell her. I’d love to read your answers in the comments below.

*And by the way, phone calls are lovely. Texts and emails are too. But a written note that requires pen to paper and a stamped, addressed envelope is forever cherished.

~

Hell on horses and women
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“Horses and cattle are all I know, ma’am.” The cowboy swallowed, and his jaw tightened around a rough whisper. “I cannot lose my baby girl.” He shoved his shoulders back. “So if you know a woman who’d come out to the ranch for the summer and help my Jess, I’d be much obliged. She’d have a private room in the house and a gentled horse of her own to take home in the fall.”

“A horse?”

“A horse.”

“What would this woman do with a horse?”

His mouth twitched. “Ride it. Sell it.”

Corra ran her index finger along the still-red quick torn yesterday, rehearsing again what Letty had told her and scrutinizing the odd sensation that thrust itself into her chest.

“What of a beef?”

His brows pinched momentarily until he realized what she was doing. “I could throw in a side.”

Her sister could use that beef come fall, with all the mouths she’d have to feed. Corra stilled her fingers and raised her chin. “Two sides would make the offer more appealing.”

The rancher studied her with a narrowed look then heaved a sigh that tugged on his shoulders. “Fair.”

“Well then.” She braced herself. “I will do it.” ~The Wrangler’s Woman

Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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One Thing

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

If you haven’t already heard, March is Women’s History Month.

The button pictured above was left in my box in the teacher’s lounge when I taught at the college. I laugh every time I notice it on my “inspiration” board at home.

However, I can think of several well-behaved women who did make history, in spite of their quiet demeanors. Especially one named Mary.

No, I’m not referring to the mother of Jesus, and, of course, not Mary Magdalene who started out quite a bit less than well-behaved. I’m talking about one of two biblical sisters with a brother named Lazarus.

You may have heard of Mary and Martha who one day hosted a dozen or so visitors at their home. Martha would have fit well in our current society—a woman of many talents who could juggle more than one duty at a time. Always busy, always looking for what needed to be done. Quite capable of managing a home and serving unexpected houseguests.

But her sister Mary chose not to be caught up in the necessary preparations that day. Instead, she sat down and listened to what one of the guests had to say. Jesus.

Martha complained and asked Jesus to prod her sister into being more helpful. His response was surprising – at least to me, a woman who often finds herself morphing into much-to-do Martha.

“My dear Martha, you are worried and upset over all these details! There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41-42 NLT). 

One thing? Really? Just one?

What do you think it was? How would you put it into your own words? How would you fit it into your own life?

Of all the many things I have to do and want to do, Jesus said one ranks above all the others. Do I give it the importance and attention it deserves? Or do I push it to the bottom of the list and say, “Later, when I have time”?

Indeed, I have learned in my life that very few of all the things I’ve worried about have ever happened. Maybe .05 percent.

But that one thing is a priceless choice that affects not just me but those around me, especially my family.

What is your one thing, and what will you do with it?

May we make history in the lives of our families, not just this month, but every day.

~

What is your one thing?
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Tranquility reigned, and Mary breathed deeply of the pristine air, relaxing as they rode toward the rimrock. It was farther away than she had first thought, but hurry was not a matter to concern her … she had let go of the tension that had been building since her arrival in Colorado …. Her biggest issue now was where to wait out the building of her house. She could well afford a room at the Denton Hotel in town, but was reluctant to leave the Rafter-H. She loved everything about it, one thing in particular above all the others. ~Hope Is Built

Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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Someone to Devour

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Someone to Devour

Sounds gruesome, doesn’t it? Like something out of a zombie or horror movie. However, there is more of that sort of thing going on than we realize.

A friend of mine had her computer hacked the other day, and the culprit obtained access to her bank account. Thankfully, the bank stopped the bleeding before it was too late, and all of my friend’s funds were recovered.

When one of my credit cards was compromised, I had to cancel it, stop payment, and get a new card. The company worked with me when I discovered the bogus purchases and didn’t charge me for them. (This is why I match receipts with every purchase every month to prevent theft.)

Lately, I’ve received countless attempts via text messaging, phone calls, email, and social media to bait me into clicking on a link. If I’m not careful, a fake threat or prize-gimmick can lure me into certain trouble. If I’m not ever-vigilant, an imposter can worm their way into my online accounts, identification, and personal information.

So I must beware.

This is not new advice.

A couple thousand years ago, a fisherman named Peter said, “Beware, because your enemy, Satan, is out looking for a victim” (1Peter 5:8).

Various translations of the Bible state the warning in different ways:

Be alert and of sober mind.

Stay alert! Watch out.

Be sober-minded; watch.

Be vigilant,

Be on the alert.

Be clear-minded and alert.

Be self-controlled.

Discipline yourselves, keep alert.

“Alert” seems to be the word of choice. When it comes to daily communication, I am not always as alert as I should be while scrolling through text messages and email. That can make me a target.

The same applies to my spiritual life.

The Message says, “Keep a cool head. Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up.”

The first time I saw this scriptural warning, I wondered why Satan would go to such lengths to trip me up. I’ve learned that he wants to disable me. He comes only to steal, kill, and destroy (John 10:10).

With the increase of online trolling, I’m beginning to see the urgency in Peter’s words for both my spiritual life and my technological life.

Temptation comes when we least expect it.

The test is always a pop quiz.

If we’re not watching, we’ll step in the hole.

No matter how you say it, it pays to pay attention.

So how do we know if something or someone is on the level or true?

We familiarize ourselves with the Truth of God’s word. If we know what it says, we’ll recognize a lie when it pops up.If we know the rules of engagement regarding email and social media, we’ll be less likely to fall for a scam.

Today’s online hackers are a great metaphor for Satan’s tactics. They troll the internet, looking for someone to attack, someone who isn’t aware of their scams and trickery, someone who is susceptible to deceit.

So take the fisherman’s advice and Beware! Both online and in your heart.

Cast all your anxiety on Him
because He cares for you.
1 Peter 5:7

~

Recommended reading: I Peter 5:5-11

Someone to devour.
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“And you are from—?”

“Cumberland County, Pennsylvania,” Mary offered.

“I see.” The bank president adjusted his spectacles. “We will need verification that you are who you say you are. Is there anyone in Cañon City who can substantiate your claim?”

“Excuse me?”

“I am sorry, ma’am, but we need proof of your identity. The property is under foreclosure and a tax lien and is to be auctioned off. When an heir appears contesting ownership, said heir has three years to redeem the property by paying overdue and current taxes. However, as I said, we would need proof of your identity. Preferably from a male next of kin.”

She took the will from his hand, thanked him with as few words as possible, and left. The distance to the buggy felt like miles rather than yards, and her jaw ached from clenching it. She didn’t know what to think or feel—angry, insulted, cheated. She’d been so upset she hadn’t verified what the mortgage debt was.

She must win the auction. ~Hope Is Built

Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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In the Beginning Was the Word

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Did you choose a “word for the year” at the beginning of 2023? Many people did. It has become a friendlier variation on the New-Year’s-Resolution theme.

Researchers say resolutions last between two weeks and one month. I was surprised they lasted that long.

However, a word is less threatening, less likely to hold failure over our head when we quit.

A word gives us the feeling that it will be our friend even if we don’t live up to it or, worse, forget about it.

In my Winter Newsletter last month, I shared my personal word for the year (Redemption) and asked readers to share theirs. A random winner was chosen from those who replied, and that person received a free e-copy of one of my books.

Out of 2,400 readers, nine replied. And surprisingly enough, none of their chosen words were duplicated.

Here is the list:

FaithPeaceLoveConsistencyKindnessCalmOrganizationDeeperThrive

Some readers elaborated on their reason for choosing a particular word, and it was evident that each one took the challenge seriously.

The first person I know of to choose a specific word at the outset of something is John, the disciple of Jesus who penned the Gospel that carries his name.

In the beginning was the Word,
And the Word was with God,
and the Word was God (John 1:1).

In this context, there is a lot more to “word” than one might expect, for part of its original meaning in the Greek (logos) is “Divine Expression,” as in “Christ.”

And God Himself began creation with a word, as recorded in Genesis 1:3 –

            “And God said … ”

Pretty potent stuff, words.

Of course our words don’t pack that kind of punch, but they’re not powerless. They direct, guard, assist, encourage, and flavor our attitudes and speech … they touch the other people in our lives.

For example, look at word No. 5 – kindness. Imagine the difference in our world if people chose that word to guide their thoughts, speech, and actions.

If you haven’t already done so, pick a word for the year and see where it goes. It’s not too late. Don’t talk yourself out of it because January is gone and February is more than half over.

Start now, because now is all we have. We don’t get yesterday and tomorrow isn’t here yet.

Pick a word. Choose one from the list above or another one the Lord whispers to your heart. Let today be your new beginning.

~

If you’d like to share your “word for the year,” I’d love to hear from you in the comments below!

And if you don’t receive my quarterly newsletter, sign up here for advance announcements and giveaways. And a free book!

Let today be your new beginning.
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Rather than allow discouragement to root, Mary flicked the reins on Sassy’s shiny back, eager to see Cañon City from a new
perspective.

When she drove into town from the west end, horses and carriages shared Main Street with automobiles and bicyclists. The
thoroughfare was wider than she remembered, and muddy from the recent rain. No doubt it churned with slush in the winter. But a spring rain symbolized hope for new life and fresh starts. Hers in particular. ~ Hope Is Built

 

Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

A lot is said in February about the heart.

A lot of money is spent too. Advertisers market flowers, candy, cards, and jewelry all connected to the little red or pink -shape denoting love, affection, fondness, and fidelity.

And of course the looks nothing like a real heart.

Synonyms for the word heart include “soul, feeling, spirit, mind …” but instinctively we know that the heart we mean when discussing love is somewhere in the very core of our being. We’ve all felt the twinge, the ache, the dagger tip of a pointed word. We’ve all felt our heart shatter, quiver, stop.

A broken heart is not easily mended and has the power to prevent an individual from ever trying again when it comes to relationships with spouses, children, parents, or close friends.

It’s always those closest to us that hurt our hearts the most. It’s a matter of emotional proximity.

If we had merely been cut, as in “a cutting word,” maybe we would heal more quickly. A nurse once told me that a cut is easier to stitch closed than a tear.

But our hearts aren’t cut, are they?

They tear. From many things.

And as the nurse said, they are hard to mend, difficult to heal, so we build walls around our hearts because we don’t want them torn again.

Jesus also had a lot to say about the heart.

The Gospel writer, John, recorded Him saying twice, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” Those who divided John’s book into chapters bookended chapter 14 with this phrase, first in verse 1 and again in verse 27 where Jesus added, “and do not be afraid.” In between those verses we read how to not be afraid.

A popular song titled “Way Maker” focuses on the heart in the second verse, reminding us that Jesus touches, heals, and mends our hearts.

If you are suffering from a heart problem, listen with hope to the song linked below.

And if you simply want to remember and consider how amazing our Heart-Holder is, click the link and listen with a heart full of gratitude.

Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.
John 14:27

~

Song link to “Way Maker“

“You could do worse, Livvy.”

She stole a peek at her grandfather, who was watching her with a keen eye, as if measuring her reaction to his words. “Whit reminds me of myself when I was young and wanting my own spread. He’s a good man—with the upbringing he’s had, better than I was. You would do well to give him a chance.”

Livvy flipped three eggs and broke the yoke in every one. There was no discussing such things with her grandfather even though she knew he loved her dearly. The ruined eggs went onto a plate for herself, and she broke three more into the skillet. She must get them right or she’d not have enough to feed the men.

Dare she tell Pop that his foreman had already turned her heart as well as her head? ~ Straight to My Heart

 

Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

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Don’t Listen to the Doubt

Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Have you ever suffered from “imposter syndrome?” Misgivings about what you’ve been called to do.

“Me – teach?”

“Me – sing?”

“Me – help the sick/poor/lonely?”

As an author, I know well the spidery footsteps of doubt crawling up my shoulder …

“You – write?”

“Making up stories is a worthless occupation. What good can fiction possibly do? And romantic fiction? Ha! What a joke.”

And then I walk into a restaurant, an airport, or even my doctor’s office, past artwork and photographs that tell the story of my preferred genre – the West.

Colorful cowboys saddle horses. Log cabins huddle near mountain streams. Old barns and corrals spread before extravagant sunsets. I want to climb into those pictures, escape for a while. I want to smell the dawn sifting through a forest, hear the nicker of a horse at feed time. Run my fingers through the rough hair of a good cowdog.

Someone took those photographs and painted those pictures, someone with a creative gift that touches my heart and offers me the respite I need.

And I finally understand why readers write to me and say they “escaped” into my stories.

You who teach and open the eyes of understanding, you who prepare a meal for someone who needs it or give an hour or a day to those who are sick, hurting, or lonely – you are helping to restore souls. You are offering escape from the suffering, if only for a moment.

Don’t listen to the doubt that tries to strip away your God-given gift.

You are offering respite.

There is restorative value in the gift of giving, whether food, time, physical help, or a listening ear. There is restorative value in song, story, art, and countless other creative expressions.

Thank God He poured creativity into His children. Thank God He lets us walk in His image and share in His touch.

How gracious He is.

Then God said,
“Let us make human beings in our image, to be like us …”
Gen. 1:26 NLT

~

Imposter Syndrome
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Don't listen to the doubt.
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   Cale Hutton was out of his ever-loving mind and Ella told him so.
   He smiled. Smiled! “Why, thank you, Miss Canaday. I’ve always considered myself to be an ever-loving soul.”
   Steam churned just inside her ears, scalding the words piling up on themselves, stuck behind her gritted teeth.
   She’d walk away, but her feet had sprouted roots again—three steps from Mr. Thorson’s tomato-red face. He glared at her as if he’d never seen her before, as if she were an imposter, stealing the spotlight from his star performer. She would be an imposter if she tried such a foolhardy move as riding across the river in Mabel’s stead. Ridiculous. Ridiculous!
   And the spotlight was exactly what she did not want, metaphorically or otherwise. ~A Change of Scenery

Inspirational  Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.

FREE book via quarterly Newsletter!

Amazon Author Page  |  Facebook  |  Twitter  |  Pinterest  

Blog  |  Goodreads  l  Instagram |  Book  Bub

#lovingthecowboy

#WesternRomance #CowboyRomance #HistoricalFiction #ChristianFiction

(c) 2023 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.

 

 

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