Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 21

As Far As the East is From the West

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Tuesday mornings I can hear the garbage truck as it makes the corner down the road from my house. I’m on an every-other-week pick-up schedule, and this last “other week” was a doozy. Every time I walked past the big blue roller bin behind the house, I gagged on fear that the garbageman wouldn’t pick it up.

I put the remains of a roasted chicken in there early in the first week. You know, those seasoned chickens you get from the market’s deli section that cost twice as much as roasting one yourself but smell sooooo good.

But after the fact, that chicken carcass did not smell good. Neither does dead turkey. Remind me to tell you a story sometime about a dead turkey and the city police.

Anyway, last Tuesday morning I watched from the window as the garbageman set the roller bin in electronic arms that lifted it above the truck’s cavernous belly and dumped it.

God bless him.

God bless all those men and women for the job they do. Can you imagine what our homes and property would look (and smell) like without those faithful workers? And yes, I know. There was a time when we did not have the luxury or need for trash collectors, and if we weren’t so wasteful, etc., etc. A blog for another time.

However, the garbageman made me think of Jesus.

Before you light the fire at my feet, think about it for a second: sin stinks. It’s rank, and over time it gets worse. We can’t take care of our sin ourselves. All the religious perfume and spiritual air freshener in the world will not cover the odor of unrepented sin. It rots. We need it removed.

Jesus does that and more for us. He doesn’t just take it away like the garbage man took my dead chicken. He paid for it with His life. He didn’t have any dead rotting sin of His own, but he took mine on Himself and paid my penalty of death.

And when he took it away, He removed it a lot farther than just across the county to the landfill.

It’s possible to go to the landfill and see the piles, be reminded that my trash is in there.

When God removes our sin, he separates it from us as far as the east is from the west. And that’s a lot farther than north from south.

Look at a globe. With your finger, start at the top or north-pole point of the globe and move your finger down. You’re moving in a southerly direction and eventually, you will hit the south-pole area. If you don’t stop, but keep going, your direction will change, and you’ll be moving in a northly direction. South and north meet at the poles.

Now try the same thing again by choosing a point on the equator, but move your finger around the globe heading east or west. Either will do.

If you’re moving in an easterly direction, do you ever run into west? If you’re moving west, do you ever run into east?

South and north meet. They turn back on each other again and again even though you keep moving straight ahead. 

East and west never meet.

When God separates me from my sin, I’m not going to run into it someday – unless I deliberately turn around and go back to it. If I keep going straight ahead with Him, I’m not going to stumble into that rotting, decomposing pile of poor choices.

Thank God for His incredible power to forgive, clean me up, and separate me from my sin.

For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;
as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
Psalm 103:11-12

~

The garbageman made me think of Jesus.
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For a fabulous song about our sin being carried away, listen to Casting Crowns’ rendition of Glorious Day. 

 

“Blue was my father’s dog,” Parker said.

The graveled comment came low and quiet, more of a thought than spoken words.

“It took some time before I stopped hating him. Same with my father.”

Shock roused Clay from fatigue as well as his assumptions. He’d figured Parker Land and Cattle hadn’t had much trouble, at least among the people. No operation ran smoothly when cattle were involved, but a family spread—well, that always gave him a homesick feeling for what he’d never known and wished he had.

“You didn’t know that, did you?” Parker tore his weary eyes from the dog and looked at Clay.

“No, sir.” Deacon had mentioned Parker’s pa being hard to get on with, but he hadn’t mentioned the dog.

Parker huffed and turned back to the fire. “My father and I rarely saw eye to eye. Then he and my mother died in a blizzard and I blamed him. Hated him. For years. Took a while before I didn’t see or think of him every time I looked at Blue.”

He leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Not until Mae Ann came along was I able to forgive him.”

Unsettled by the confession that hit too close to home, Clay sensed Parker wasn’t finished.

“Hate will kill a man. Eat him alive from the inside out.”

The skin on Clay’s back twitched.

“Forgiveness carries a high price, but it’s worth it.”

No words came. Clay had nothing to say or give. Only an ache in his leg, a burning in his chest, and what he thought he hadn’t heard Bittman say last Sunday.  ~An Impossible Price

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National Book Lovers Day

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Today is National Book Lover’s Day! I hope you will find opportunity to turn off the television, silence your smartphone, and escape into a good book. You could read a biography, a how-to, a mystery, or an action-packed adventure. And if you enjoy Western romance, well I can help you out with that. Many of my books are listed below and linked to their own page that will tell you more about each one and offer buy links as well.

I also want to show you some of the books I’ve enjoyed reading in the last year or so. Some are “old,” but maybe you’ll find a new-to-you author. 

Happy reading!

Books I’ve read and enjoyed:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I can’t imagine a man really enjoying a book and reading it only once.” ~ C.S. Lewis

 

If you like Inspirational Western Romance, you might enjoy one of my books. There are a couple of contemporary titles listed as well, but they all have a cowboy to love.

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Is There an Antidote?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

At my last annual checkup, I told the doctor I thought I had a spider bite.

The doctor told me spiders don’t bite.

Clearly, he’d never seen the movie Spiderman.

I’d been working in the yard a few days earlier and bore what I considered evidence, but I listened as Doc observed and explained. After all, he was the one with M.D. behind his name.

Spiders don’t bite in the way we think of bite, he said. Rather, they inject venom into their prey, let it do its work, then suck out the liquified insides.

Eww.

It’s the venom from a black widow or brown recluse that causes problems, not their teeny tiny  “bite.”

Doc gave me a prescription for a mild skin infection, told me I was healthy as a horse, and sent me on my way.

It just so happened that during this time of the physical “spider bite,” I was also suffering emotional stings of resentment and self-pity. Pretty noxious attacks, those, and it didn’t take an arachnologist to make the metaphorical connection.

If I had been the victim of a black widow, antivenom (antivenin) would possibly have been ordered and administered.

As the victim of resentment and self-pity, I knew these initially minor irritations could grow and spread if I left them unchecked. I knew they could poison me on several levels and eventually paralyze me emotionally and spiritually. The choice was mine: cling to these reactions and let them infect me or find help.

Was there an antidote?

Praise and gratitude are incredibly effective against the venom of resentment, self-pity, and envy. Thanking God for His mercy and goodness takes my eyes off me and my situation and locks my focus on the Lord.

In the book of Job we read, “Resentment kills a fool, and envy slays the simple” (Job 5:2 NIV).

Psalm 37 tells us three times in the first eight verses not to fret. That word forms an acronym I learned years ago: Fear, Resentment and Envy = Turmoil.

Lord, thank you for providing the antidote that cancels the poison of my enemy, and help me administer it every day.

Therefore by Him let us continually
offer the sacrifice of praise to God,
that is, the fruit of our lips,
giving thanks to His name.
Hebrews 13:15

Is there an antidote?
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Nearly finished with her midwife duties, Sophie brushed her fingers against the newborn’s downy head. “Have you chosen a name?”

“Madeline,” the mother replied. “Cade and I discussed it before he left. I felt certain she was a girl and Cade argued that it was a boy. But he agreed on the name just in case.” Gentle laughter brushed Madeline’s head as she suckled.

“It’s a beautiful name and well chosen.” Carved into one of the crosses atop the hill—Cade’s mother’s name. Sophie recalled his parents’ funeral, the same day Betsy eloped with her beau. Such pain all the way around for this family, yet now new life bore a beloved name and offered another go at things.

Self-pity pinched behind Sophie’s eyes, and when Madeline broke away in sated slumber, Sophie scooped her up. “Enjoy your breakfast now that she’s had hers. I’ll bring the cradle in from Willy’s nursery and then take care of that little man.” ~An Impossible Price

 

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God of One

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Do you believe God is the God of one?

Some may say that’s a self-centered way of looking at things, focusing on what God has done for you or me alone.

Maybe not.

In a women’s Bible study I attend, we recently worked through the book, MATCHLESS, by Angie Smith. She points out that in a crowd, Jesus always managed to find the one.

Consider those He healed or comforted:

the woman who touched his garment in the press of many people

the lame man at the pool among others there

the thief on the cross next to Him, where onlookers mocked or wept

Think about some of the one-on-one conversations Jesus had:

Nicodemus

the woman at the well

Pontius Pilate

Jesus did what His Father did when He reached out to the one.

God spoke to

Abraham

Hagar

Moses

He answered the prayer of

a shepherd

a king

a barren woman

How often we think we are too unimportant for God to notice, yet Jesus said a single sparrow cannot fall without God’s awareness of it.

“So don’t be afraid, “ He added. “you are worth more than many sparrows.” 

When we call out to Him, He hears our solitary voice, even in the roar of a crowd.

“Whoever believes in Him …” 

Whoever.

That means you.

~

God of one
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Cheering broke through Ronnie’s reverie as booted bridesmaids in sassy gowns and groomsmen wearing starched jeans and sunflower boutonnieres lined up for dancing. Guests made their way to the food, and Ronnie worked relay between the braised ribs table and the sweet tea and lemonade. Her mother held down the appetizer fort, and Felicity stood guard at the three-tiered waterfall of sunflowers on the wedding cake.

Perfection reigned. And Ronnie had never felt more alone in her life. ~”Taste and See” from Always a Wedding Planner

 

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We See Light

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

If you are a long-time reader of this blog, you may have guessed that I like to take pictures of the sunrise. Have you noticed that each one is unique?

Most mornings when I walk, I strike out toward the east, so I’m greeted with a new beginning each day.

English professors will tell you that “new beginning” is redundant.

I disagree.

Starting something is a beginning. Starting all over again is a new beginning. But starting with something unique and fresh over which you have no control is an amazing experience.

It’s a gift.

Like the dawn.

His compassions fail not.
they are new every morning:
Great is Thy faithfulness.
Lamentations 3:22-23

I also like to take pictures of striking sunsets. These two times of day speak to me more than any other and draw me to scriptures like Psalm 65:8. 

“You make the outgoings of the morning and evening rejoice.”

Years ago I read a fanciful children’s book by Gary D. Schmidt, Straw into Gold. One of the characters is blind, but he can hear the dawn. “… the dawn gives reason to hope,” he tells his sighted companions.

Can you imagine how quiet one must be to hear the sun rise?

Another scripture that comes to me regarding sunrise and sunset is repeated in six variations in the first chapter of Genesis:

“And the evening and the morning were the first day.”

Biblical scholars argue about this – of course – for how could there be “evening” and “morning” on the first three days of creation when the sun wasn’t created until the fourth day (though light was the very first thing spoken into existence)?

Well, I don’t know.

Neither do I know how God made all that is from nothing. Or how the rotation and orbit of our earth doesn’t fling us into space. Or how anyone could possibly love me, like God Himself.

But each morning when I see the dawn breaking at the end of my lane, I see that He does love me. I see that He is faithful, even more so than the rising of that glowing star that gives me warmth and light.

He gives me life, for with Him is its very fountain (Psalm 36:9).

And it is enough to know that in His light we see light.

~

We see light.
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Clay pulled his gloves on and tromped across the yard, around the barn, and away from the world where he could stand out in the open and watch the sun rise.

Like every sunrise before, it drew him. They always had, though he didn’t know—there it was again—why. He dipped his head until his hat brim cut the line where sky met land. And at the moment white light broke the edge, the blister in his soul split open with the sound of her voice.

He’s faithful, Clay. Look at that sunrise, so fresh and perfect. It’s His mercy, brand new every morning.

The pain sent him to his knees, and he clutched at his chest. Lanced by forgotten words, the blister drained through his every pore and ran down his face like acid.

All these years he’d hidden from the memory, the loss, the tenderness of his mother’s voice. It wasn’t worth the impossible price it cost him to remember. Yet she’d drawn him without his knowledge. He could no more break his connection to her than he could his connection to dawn. ~An Impossible Price

 

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Celebrating Freedom

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

I celebrate this Independence Day by honoring my husband, Mike Spencer, who won his freedom from a lengthy disability on June 28.

He is now riding the grassy ranges of God’s High Country, where the streams run clear and the air is fresh as a newborn calf.

Cowboys are a patriotic breed, strong on God and family. The days surrounding the Fourth of July are known among rodeo families as Cowboy Christmas due to the number of rodeos contestants can make, particularly in the Northwest.

Mike’s favorite place to celebrate the Fourth was the Home of Champions Rodeo at Red Lodge, Montana, tucked in the shadow of the beautiful Beartooth Mountains.

I’m sure the hills of heaven dwarf our earthly ranges, even the magnificent Rockies.

How perfect is God’s timing that my cowboy celebrates freedom in heaven this year, during this most appropriate of times on the rodeo cowboy calendar.

~

I love you, Cowboy. You must be seeing some incredible country and praising God with those who arrived before you. I miss you, but I praise God too, knowing that you are with Jesus and free of the paralysis, pain, and confusion at last.

~

He will wipe every tear from their eyes,
and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain.
All these things are gone forever.
Revelation 21:4

 

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(c) 2021 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.

 

 

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Are We Prepared?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Merriam-Webster: prepare

verb

pre·​pare | \ pri-ˈper  \

prepared; preparing

Definition of  prepare

1a: to make ready beforehand for some purpose, use, or activity – prepare food for dinner

b: to put in a proper state of mind is prepared to listen

2: to work out the details of: plan in advance preparing a campaign strategy

3a: to put together: prepare a prescription

b: to put into written form: prepare a report

intransitive verb

: to get ready: preparing for a career

 

Preparation is not a strange concept. We prepare our garden soil for planting. We prepare meals for friends and family. We prepare income taxes – or we have someone else prepare them for us.

But rarely are we prepared to die, even though we know this flesh and bone suit we’re wearing isn’t bullet proof or immune to age.

Years ago my husband taught elementary school in a tiny Northern Colorado town. One of his students was a little boy with cystic fibrosis. Some mornings, the school nurse would “clap” on the boy’s chest and back to break up the fluid and ease his breathing.

Everyone knew this child probably wouldn’t see sixth grade. The boy knew it too, but his mother had prepared him, given him the sweetest attitude and a joyful heart. She had prepared her son to die.

No adults attending that boy’s funeral were prepared for the emotional impact of its “Gone Fishing” theme that he had chosen himself.

That little guy knew Jesus was waiting for him on the other side of his painful and frightening condition. He had the faith of a child – a child who had been taught that he was just passing through and Jesus loved him.

But he and his mama weren’t the only ones who had prepared for his arrival in heaven.

God has long been busy getting ready for His kids, the little ones and the older ones too.

Many biblical passages tell us about God’s preparations, but I like the following three the best.

I go to prepare a place for you.
John 14:2

No eye has seen, no ear has heard,
and no mind has imagined what
God has prepared for those who love him.
1 Corinthians 2:9

But they were looking for a better place,
a heavenly homeland. That is why
God is not ashamed to be called their God,
for he has prepared a city for them.
Hebrews 11:16

God is getting ready for you. Are you getting ready for Him? If you’d like to know more about Him before you meet Him face to face, tell Him. He’s listening. He’d love to hear from you.

Romans 10:13

Ephesians 2:8 

~

Are we prepared?
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“If I leave enough food prepared,” Livvy said, tucking her napkin under her plate, “do you think you could get by without me for a day?”

A solid protest jumped into Whit’s throat, ready to bust out of his mouth in a loud, “No!”

Her grandfather leaned back against his chair and considered Livvy’s request a moment. “And what takes a whole day in town?”

She set her cup easy in its saucer and dropped her hands to her lap. “I want to stop and see Martha Hutton.” Her face flushed a bit but she pressed on, keeping her eyes fixed on her grandfather.

“When Whit and I were in town last, Mrs. Hutton said I could stop by any time. I’d like to take her up on that. For a visit.”

Whit would go with her.

Baker smiled for the first time in several days. “I think that is a fine idea, Livvy. You need other women’s company. Stay the night. I’d rather you not drive back alone near dark, and the three of us here can hold this place together in the meantime.”

But if Whit went with her—wait, the three of us?

Her smile ravished the fire’s light and kindled anxiety in Whit’s middle. Livvy gone? For an entire day and night? ~Straight to My Heart

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Dad’s Best Advice

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

My farmer father taught me how to drive by starting me out on a tractor when I was about 10. His instructions included the following:

Stand up on the brake if you can’t push it down. Stop at intersections even if no cars are coming. Signal before turning at that intersection. (I’m convinced people don’t know how to do that today.)Watch the edge of the pavement, not the center line, so you stay in the right-hand lane.In the field, plow a straight line by fixing your eyes on a distant point ahead. Don’t look back over your shoulder.

One summer afternoon at our house in town Dad said, “Take the pickup out to the ranch for me.”

I guess he figured it wasn’t that much of a jump from the tractor to the truck, and he didn’t say a word while I ground through the gears of the old Chevy with “three on the tree.” But I made the nine-mile trip without getting a ticket or running over anyone’s dog or cow.

Today, in heavy fog or a snow storm, I hear Dad telling me to watch the edge of the road rather than the center line. Signaling and observing stop signs also serve me well, but I don’t stand on the brake any more.

However, Dad’s best advice was number five – literally and figuratively: Watching where you’re going is the best way to get there.

We all learn from our dads, whether it’s what we want to do with our life, how to do it, or how not to do it. Sometimes those dads weren’t our fathers, but they filled in the gaps and shored us up.

Others had dads who were abusive or mean. That kind of childhood skews our image of a loving heavenly Father who is there waiting for us to come to Him so He can heal our heart-wounds. 

Whatever your situation may be, this Father’s Day, find someone to honor with a thank you for their support. And give God a chance. You may not know Him yet, but He loves you more than you can imagine.

Can a woman forget her nursing child,
and not have compassion on the son of her womb?
Surely they may forget,
Yet I will not forget you.
See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands;
Isaiah 49:15-16 (NKJV)

~

How about you? What’s the best advice you received from your dad or father-figure?

Ty set the tray on the family picnic table beneath the sprawling overhang and sat on the side facing the cut grass that sloped down toward the arena. Crickets took up a chorus from the pond south of the barn while the sun slid toward the mountains. He unscrewed the lid from the salsa jar and dumped a pile of it on one end of his burrito.

“Thanks, Lord.”

Lifelong habit forced a cursory nod to God, but the full-mouth prayer wasn’t the kind of blessing he’d grown up with. Prayers like his father prayed had faded after the three-in-one funeral. It’d been hard to thank God for anything when Ty felt like everything had been ripped from him.

He took another bite of burrito and chased it with cold cola. Not exactly Ronnie Fare’s sweet lemonade and fried cheese.

The memory of her golden hair and tanned legs swamped his good sense as an arrow of Canada geese sailed past on their way to the pond. He wondered what she was making for dinner.

And he wondered what his mom would think of a girl with a boy’s name and a smile that made him want to be a better man. ~”Taste and See” from Always a Wedding Planner

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Revised from an earlier post in June 2015.

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All Things Work Together …

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Rarely have I seen a true silver lining on a cloud, but often I have heard that every cloud has one.

John Milton is said to have coined the phrase in 1634. It has become a cliché encouragement to those in trying situations that something positive can result from something negative.

The idea supporting the silver-lining theory is the fact that the sun is behind the cloud. Even though we can’t see it, we see evidence of the sun’s presence.

God’s word says something similar but with deeper significance:

And we know that all things work together for good
to those who love God,
to those who are the called according to His purpose.
Romans 8:28 (NKJV)

Nothing surprises God, and He works every situation into something good – here’s the catch – for those who love Him.

Do we love Him enough to set our own purposes aside to follow His? Do we take the time to even find out what those purposes might be? Do we stick with Him long enough to see what He will do in the situation?

The sweet peace of God’s presence is an enduring comfort. And knowing that He is working even bad things out for our good encourages me to press on.

~

I have heard that every cloud has one.
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Last week’s winner of the author-signed copy of Always a Wedding Planner is Alicia Haney. Congratulations!

“I can’t taste or smell anything because of an infection I got on the ship,” Ronnie said.

All three of her business partners glanced at each other and then back at her.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the baker asked.

Ronnie took a shaky breath. “Because who wants a chef who can’t smell or taste?”

“From what I heard tonight,” Cassie said, “it didn’t make a bit of difference.”

“And it doesn’t make any difference to us,” the baker added. “You know what you’re doing, and you do it well. I certainly hope you’re not thinking of quitting.”

“But I may never get my taste and smell back. There are no guarantees.” ~ Taste and See from Always a Wedding Planner

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Take Refuge in Him – (and a giveaway!)

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Last month I visited the Ark Encounter in Williamstown, Kentucky. After my initial amazement at how large the replica Ark was (built according to biblical dimensions), I was humbled by the lengths to which God would go to save His people and creation. The great floating refuge withstood the ravages of storm and endless sea for nearly a year (Gen. 7:11, 8:13).

Countless historical details surround the ark’s construction, and I won’t go into them here. However, as is often the case, the Lord dove-tailed this visit with another event in my personal life, generating a deeper understanding on my part – the Ark Encounter and the release of my latest story, “Taste and See” in Barbour’s Always a Wedding Planner.

In “Taste and See,” the key scripture in the lives of my characters is Psalm 34:8 – “Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; Blessed is the man who trusts in Him” (NKJV).

When I cross-referenced other versions of this verse, I discovered that most of them said, “blessed in the man who takes refuge in Him.” Curious about why, I looked up the Hebrew word for trust used in the Psalm and discovered that it translates as “flee for protection.” Figuratively used, it means to confide in, have hope, make refuge, (put) trust*.

I imagine Noah trusted God more than his own experience and reasoning. I imagine God’s command to build the ark was not the first time Noah had heard from the Lord. And I imagine that Noah knew only God could provide refuge from the judgement about to come upon the earth.

Noah didn’t speak Hebrew, but he understood trust in the deepest sense of the word. And his trust resulted in salvation for himself, his family, and early generations of every animal kind on the planet.

For me, the Ark Encounter was a huge visual representation of an even bigger God in whom I can entrust my life.

Taste and see that the LORD is good.
Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!
Psalm 34:8, NLT

~

This week I am giving away a copy of Always a Wedding Planner, signed by all four authors – a rare and limited item. Comment below to be entered in the drawing by answering the following question:

            In what way has God proven to you He is trustworthy?

Noah trusted God.
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Ronnie peered through teary eyes at the barnboard sign her mother had given her when she graduated from her culinary training. The black script letters were only half of the verse in Psalm 34—the challenge part.

The encouragement part wasn’t there, but it had been tattooed on her heart by two loving women over the years, and even now ran through her mind in her Gramma ’Cine’s voice: “Blessed is the wo-man who trusts in Him.”

For as long as Ronnie could remember, Gramma had added wo- to the verse, insisting that it didn’t alter the promise, but directed it to a more specific audience. Years of hearing that affirmation had laid a foundation of trust. ~”Taste and See” in Always a Wedding Planner

 

 

*From Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible, Hebrew word for trust, used in Psalm 34:8 – 2620: to flee for protection; figuratively to confide in, have hope, make refuge, (put) trust

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