Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 30
November 4, 2019
You Are of More Value
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
What was that hanging from my bird feeder – a bat?
I looked again. Sparrows swarmed the feeder and the ground beneath it, scrabbling for seeds and corn in the snow.
The dangling creature flapped its wings and tried to upright itself. A bird. A tiny sparrow.
Again it fell and hung by one foot snared in the feeder’s decorative edging. I’d never seen such a thing.
Pulling on my snow boots and gloves, I briefly regretted the disturbance my presence would cause the other birds, particularly the covey of quail huddled nearby beneath a sheltering spruce. But I could not let the single bird hang there until it froze to death or was snagged by a hawk.
As I approached, the birds scattered in a rush of wings. Only the captive remained, flailing, chirping, I supposed, in panic. A female, gray and plain, missing the bold markings of the more colorful males. Her little eyes watched me as she cried, but she was no match for my gloved fingers that cupped her wings close to her body.
The bones of her foot were thinner than the smallest twig. I reached beneath the rim of the feeder, hoping to dislodge her foot from the other side without snapping it or her leg in two.
It worked.
Once clear of the ornate prison, I opened the hand that held her, and she flew away to feed again.
I’d done something right.
I thought of the shepherd who left a flock of ninety-nine sheep to rescue the one that was missing.
Though the metaphor clashed with Jesus’ words about our value compared to sparrows, both stories spoke to how much He loves us. How He has gone out of His way to show us that love and to rescue us.
Inside, I pulled off my boots and stood at the window watching the sparrows return to their feeding ground, seemingly unconcerned that one of their own had been at risk and rescued. Unaware of the delight I take in watching them and feeding them.
May we never forget how precious we are to the One who watches over us and provides for our every need. For He has told us, “You are of more value than many sparrows.”
~
Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin?
And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will ….
Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.
Matthew 10:31 NKJ
You are of more value.
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Abigale stopped in front of the trees, the ache of missing her adoptive grandparents nearly bending her in half. They had truly rescued her, saved her from an orphanage or worse when they’d brought her to their ranch. Dim memories of her parents hung like a thin curtain at the back of her mind, but she’d long ago lost their faces. All that remained was a vague sense of safety that had been suddenly and swiftly torn away. ~Just in Time for Christmas
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October 28, 2019
My Name is Written There
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
A child’s perspective can open our eyes to things we’ve long forgotten about as adults.
Like the vintage carnival-prize horse that belonged to my husband’s mother. Her great-granddaughter discovered that prize several months ago and let me know that she placed high value upon it. She picked it up and turned it over and around and even hugged it to her little chest in adoration.
One day when she was visiting, she went predictably to the statue and picked it up, surprised by the piece of paper taped to its copper belly.
“That’s your name on there,” I said when she looked to me for explanation. “Someday, that horse will be yours.”
Again, she hugged it endearingly.
Each visit since, she checks to see if the tape is still there. “My name is on it,” she says. “And tape.”
She’s reminding me of her future ownership as well as reassuring herself that I won’t forget.
Though she doesn’t know it, this six-year-old is also reminding me of God’s unfailing love for us as His children.
The Old Testament prophet, Isaiah, encouraged the people by saying, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I [God] will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:15,16).
In the New Testament, Jesus told his disciples upon their return from seeing evil succumb to God’s power, don’t rejoice that the spirits submit to you, rejoice that your names are written in heaven (Luke 10:20).
Written in heaven. I like the sound of that. There is great comfort in knowing that my name is written there.
~
My name is written there
Abigale picked up the cross-stitched pillow, heavy with memories. A small brown stain marred one corner, no doubt blood from where she’d hit her head. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, making it hard to read the words. She knew them by heart, but reading them and fingering the tiny stitches reminded her that Mams’s faith had grown over time, just like the painstaking handiwork. ~Just in Time for Christmas (Available now for pre-order!)
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October 21, 2019
All God’s Creatures
It’s not uncommon for people to find spiritual insight through the behavior of their pets or other animals. I’ve experienced plenty of times when my eyes were opened by my old dog, Blue, or one of our other critters, including my husband’s clown mule, Ike. I’ve even written about some of those occasions in this blog.
So when I was invited to write devotionals for Guideposts’ 2020 yearly devotional book for animal lovers, All God’s Creatures, I jumped at the opportunity. Friend and fellow author, Amelia Rhodes, also has contributions in this collection. Check out her other books here.
Has there been a time in your life when you sensed a message from God through a pet or other animal? Tell us about it by commenting below.
Then think Christmas, my friends. What a perfect gift for the animal lovers in your life. Get your copy from Guideposts by going directly to the site here.
~
You care for people and animals alike, O Lord.
How precious is your unfailing love, O God!
Psalm 36:6,7
~
Give to the animal lovers in your life.
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Congratulations, Barbara Franks. You are the randomly chosen giveaway winner from last week’s guest post by Janet Chester Bly.
Animals are one of God’s gifts to humans. They bless us with comfort when we are down, fill us with joy at just the right moment, and encourage us on our daily walk.
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October 14, 2019
The Spiritual Side of Creating a Novel – and a giveaway
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Years ago when I dreamed of being an author, I wrote to a husband-and-wife team of authors who impressed me with their creativity and love for the Lord.
They wrote back.
Not only was I surprised, I was blessed and encouraged.
Today I am honored to host one of those two authors, Janet Chester Bly. She shares her secrets for success that apply not only to authors but to anyone seeking to glorify the Lord in what they do.
Thank you for joining me today. Be sure to check out Janet’s giveaway at the end of the post.
From author Janet Chester Bly …
For the Christian fiction writer, the whole project involves a walk with God. He provides the idea, enables the writing gift, and empowers the ability to do the project.
1) Pray.
Daily talk through with Him the development of crafting the story and scenes. Pray for God’s will to be done in and through your story, that reader’s hearts will be prepared in some way to receive divine truth. And when it’s done, pray for wisdom in creative promotion.
2) Wrestle.
Agonize through the spiritual theme. In my recently released novel series, The Trails of Reba Cahill, the characters thoughts and actions and the evolving story, little by little revealed recurring issues. I either experienced them or lived it through them. On the negative side: deceit, lies, and bitterness. On the positive end: confession, truth, and forgiveness. Staying with that thread throughout helped me find where to begin, what defined the middle, and how to reach the conclusion.
3) Be willing to wait.
Your books may take months. Or years. Creating takes time with a multitude of starts and stops, to really know the crux of your story.
4.) Recognize your team.
Sure, the main discipline of the sweat and strain of the actual writing may be up to you. But you don’t really do it alone. Others will come alongside in various ways, with advice and inspiration, resources and research. Be thankful for each input. Call them out in some way—in the book’s acknowledgements or token gifts.
A sample writer’s prayer: “Heavenly Father, make this a story created by you. Bring it to life for your purpose. Work through my mind. Challenge my heart. Give voice to the characters to reveal something you want to say to each reader. Through the privilege of this project, minister to me , through me, and in spite of me. Keep me going toward the goal, as life happens. Bring your glory. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
~
Leave a comment and be entered in a drawing for a free giveaway paperback (USA only) or PDF copy of Janet’s newly released novel, Beneath A Camperdown Elm, Book 3, Trails of Reba Cahill. Answer one of the two following questions:
Question for Writer: How do you make sure you keep God as part of your work? Question for Reader: What was the spiritual message of the last novel you read?
The whole project involves a walk with God
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Reba has everything she ever wanted! Her scary stalker is in jail. She’s engaged to a rancher-in-training. Her runaway mother returns home. But then, Grandma Pearl disappears! Is she about to lose it all?
Three generations of women travel separate journeys of the heart, while a mystery brews under an old Scottish Elm.
Janet Chester Bly is a city girl with a country heart. She doesn’t corral horses or even mow her own lawn. “I’m no womba woman,” she says. But she followed her late husband, award-winning western author Stephen Bly, to the Idaho mountain top village of Winchester to write books and minister to a small church. When she lost him, she stayed. She manages the online Bly Books bookstore, https://www.BlyBooks.com, rakes lots of Ponderosa pine needles and cones, and survives the long winter snows, one blizzard at a time.
Janet and her three sons—Russell, Michael and Aaron–completed her late husband’s last novel, Stuart Brannon’s Final Shot, Book 7, Stuart Brannon Series, a Selah Award Finalist. The family project process can be found on her website blog under the series topic, “Finishing Dad’s Novel”: http://www.BlyBooks.com/blog/.
Contact Janet online:
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/BlyBooks/
Facebook Personal: https://www.facebook.com/janetchesterbly/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/janetchesterbly/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/BlyBooks
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/janetcbly/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/269265.Janet_Chester_Bly
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/janetchesterbly
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October 7, 2019
What Is Your Passion?
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
People often equate passion with sexual desire. However, passion is an interesting word with several shades of meaning.
Merriam-Webster’s online definition reads:
1 often capitalized
a : the sufferings of Christ between the night of the Last Supper and his death
b : an oratorio based on a gospel narrative of the Passion
2 obsolete : suffering
3 : the state or capacity of being acted on by external agents or forces
4 a (1) : emotion (2) plural : the emotions as distinguished from reason
b : intense, driving, or overmastering feeling or conviction
c : an outbreak of anger
5 a : ardent affection : love
b : a strong liking or desire for or devotion to some activity, object, or concept
c : sexual desire
d : an object of desire or deep interest
A synonym could be desire.
Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart” (NIV).
At times I’ve read that verse to mean God plants desires within me that He wants to cultivate and fulfill. I’ve also felt it meant God would give me what I so desperately wanted. Therefore, I looked up the original Hebrew word used in that verse for desire, and it means … you guessed it … desire! A request or petition.
But the qualifier in Psalm 37:4 – delighting yourself in the Lord – is the key.
I believe God does put desires in our hearts that He wants to fulfill, yet sometimes they’re so unusual, or seemingly impossible that we doubt they are from Him.
Yet, this is a two-sided belief. I also believe that God hasn’t skipped over anyone. He’s given everyone a desire – passion – that is intended to bring glory to himself and a deep sense of adventure/accomplishment/enjoyment to the individual. Why wouldn’t He? He is creative.
So what are you passionate about? What is it that drives you to pursue what reason may laugh at? What reasonable friends and family members may discredit.
Our God-given passions are likely not easily grasped achievements. Roadblocks, difficulties, and discouragements abound.
Remember the movie, The Passion of the Christ? (See Webster’s No. 1 definition above.) The sufferings (passions) of Jesus were empowered by his passion to fulfill the Father’s plan. It plays across actor Jim Caviezel’s face as he portrays Christ pushing up from the Gethsemane dirt and striding forward. Remember?
Remember the set of his jaw, the determination in his step?
His was not a do-or-die passion. It was do and die. Jesus’ passion was to make it to the cross, and that same passion enabled Him to endure the suffering.
I saw a similar portrayal of passion in another movie, Hacksaw Ridge, when Pfc. Desmond T. Doss (played by Andrew Garfield) turns toward his fellow soldiers after praying prior to the assault. His face betrays the passion of a mission. I imagine Joshua of the Old Testament must have had that same look in his eye before he attacked Jericho.
And what of young David in the Old Testament? What passion drove him to run toward an armored giant in an unreasonable, mismatched challenge?
The quote above should probably say, “Passion stirs our hearts to do what reason (and other people) say cannot be done.” My passion isn’t nearly as fierce or life-threatening as the four mentioned here. I simply want to write. But that desire has met with roadblocks, difficulties, and discouragement.
We often let the naysayers stop us. Like the well-intentioned, multi-published author at a writer’s conference in 2008 who told me it was “too late” for me to write books.
That was fourteen published books ago.
In the 1981 British film, Chariots of Fire, runner Eric Liddell responds to his sister’s admonishment with, “I believe that God made me for a purpose. But He also made me fast, and when I run, I feel His pleasure.”
God loves you, and He is pleased when you enjoy using the gifts, talents, and passions He has placed in your heart.
What is your passion? If you’re not sure, ask God to show you. If it’s been so long since you looked at your passion, ask Him to direct you. There may be aspects and avenues that you’ve not yet considered.
It’s not too late.
What is your passion?
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September 30, 2019
Unless a kernel…falls to the ground and dies…
Last week, I harvested my giant sunflower and gave it to a friend who raises chickens. The flower had grown beyond the point pictured above, and the edge turned back, opening the face for the seeds to fall or be easily plucked by birds (and chickens).
After my protective nurturing, watering, and monitoring throughout the summer, I felt guilty cutting it down. And silly for feeling guilty. Harvesting is part of growing. Ask any farmer or rancher.
Even Jesus had something to say about it.
“I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24 NIV).
I planted one single seed last spring, and from it came more than 1,000, according to sunflower experts.
“Consider the birds of the field,” Jesus also said. They don’t plant and they don’t store up a harvest. But God feeds them through His natural order with things such as sunflowers.
Man also benefits from the sunflower harvest in the form of edible seeds and oil.
When the time was right, my sunflower dipped its head and surrendered to the season. And as it gave itself, others benefited.
I wonder, could this be a picture of “dying to one’s self”?
What do you think?
My sunflower dipped its head and surrendered to the season
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Full repentance reached further—down into her deep-seated hatred of Clark Penneholder. Bern’s words echoed thoughts from her former life when she realized that a person often had to act without waiting for feelings to attend the deed.
Forgiveness was a choice, it seemed. Not a reaction. ~Mail-order Misfire
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September 23, 2019
Four Great Autumn Reads Full of Thankfulness and Blessings
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Today is officially the first day of autumn, and I want to whet your appetite for turkey – or whatever you’ll enjoy a couple of months from now on Thanksgiving – though if I had to wrestle the guy pictured above for a drumstick, I might opt for a veggie-burger.
The four lovely book covers also pictured serve as appetizers for what awaits below—the other novellas that join mine in the recently released Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection. (Book 1 in the collection, Texas Tears, was spotlighted in the Aug. 19 interview with author Caryl McAdoo, and I introduced my novella, Mail-order Misfire, on Sept. 2.)
Read on for a delectable selection of inspirational historical romance sure to warm your heart with thankfulness and blessings.
Happy reading!
Book 3 – Thankful for the Cowboy, by Mary Connealy
Hero Tom MacKinnon rides up driving a wagon with a second wagon trailing him. He and his sister want to be hired to build windmills. They’ll ask for very little money and, in exchange, heroine Lauren Drummond, newly widowed mother of four nearly grown sons, will help them learn to survive in the Sandhills of Nebraska. What to grow, what to hunt, how to build a sod house.
Tom’s windmills will save her ranch. Lauren needs three windmills on this drought year, or her growing herd of cattle is going to die of thirst. She agrees to teach him the ways of the Sandhills, and to give him fifteen head of cattle. She’s not ready to think of another man. But Tom changes her mind. His little sister and one of her sons find love together before Tom and Lauren do. Purchase here.
Book 4 – Blizzards & Blessings, by Samantha Bayarr
An Amish Mail Order Bride? That’s not what Muley Tucker thought he was getting when he began to correspond with Emma Jane Miller. She shows up in Silver City, Nevada, a wild mining town, to be Muley Tucker’s mail-order bride. The only problem is, she left out one LITTLE detail about herself: she’s Amish.
Muley doesn’t take too kindly to being tricked and tries to send her on her way before the miners show up to give him his daily ribbing. Because of being a pig farmer, he’s the joke of the town. If he marries Emma, he’ll be in for more teasing. With no money to return home and Muley’s refusal to honor the marriage contract, Emma Jane must stay in the boarding house until the stage comes back. Can they put differences aside for Thanksgiving? Purchase here.
Book 5 – Spring of Thanksgiving, by Liz Tolsma
Book Five of the Thanksgiving Books & Blessings Collection. When Ivy Cooke discovers the extent of the debt on her father’s Texas ranch, she vows to do whatever it takes to save her late brother’s legacy for his son. But when new neighbor Dell Watson and his family claim they own the Cooke’s spring, the fight gets ever harder, especially in the midst of a deep drought.
To prove his worth to his father, Dell puts a plan into motion to woo Ivy and her spring. What he doesn’t count on his falling in love with her. Will the spring bring them together or tear them apart forever? Purchase here.
Book 6 – These Great Gifts, by Allison Pittman
When a feisty baseball fan meets her favorite baseball hero, romance is just around the base.
Vittoria Carmello is the youngest daughter of Italian immigrants, living in Brooklyn, NY. When she’s not working in the packaging room at Macy’s Department store, she’s reading a novel, or following the progress of her favorite baseball team, the Brooklyn Bridegrooms. And, when they seem to need a little help, she crafts helpful letters to her favorite player, Jeb Martin. Of course, she signs them “Vito,” because no baseball player would ever listen to advice from a girl.
Then, one night, a knock at the door of the Carmello’s 3rd-floor walk up brings a completely unexpected surprise. Jeb Martin himself, battered, bruised, and escorted by a local policeman, her latest letter in his coat pocket. He’s the victim of an assault by a group of hooligans, and the return address on the envelope served as the only clue the cop had to bring him “home.”
What follows is a bit of a scandal, a bit of a friendship, a bit of baseball, and extra innings of romance. Purchase here.
Turkey, anyone? Four great autumn reads full of thankfulness and blessings.
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September 16, 2019
Is It Change or Merely Letting Go?
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
“Fuel up,” “pack up,” “load up.” These were oft-repeated phrases when our family rodeoed. With “up” attached to so many words, we must have lived a glass-is-half-full kind of life. Either that, or we had a roundup mentality.
When Mike said, “Load up,” our children and all the dogs knew what he meant, and it had nothing to do with piling one’s plate at the buffet line.
This particular command came drifting across the years to me recently, opening memory’s gate to our diesel-driven days. Now, only one of the family continues to rodeo, and the remaining dog is so old he couldn’t jump into the bed of the truck even if he heard the order. Which he can’t.
I’m not sure he can see the truck.
The season of our life has changed as clearly as the leaves around our home.
Autumn’s oranges and yellows have been there all along. We just don’t see them until chlorophyll-producing photosynthesis slows and the green fades.
The transition is closer to “letting go” than changing, and somehow that makes the idea easier to accept. After all, didn’t someone once say, “The only people who like change are wet babies”?
Someone else said, “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven” (Eccl. 3:1 NKJV). However, it’s often just as hard to let go as it is to change, especially when we must let go of loved ones, our youth, favorite pets, careers, homes, relationships.
God’s grace for the task is there for the taking if we’ll simply ask and await His answer. Of course asking is easier than waiting, right? Waiting takes time.
Our pastor encouraged us with his message last week and drew our laughter when he quipped, “Give God a minute, will ya?”
But we don’t. We’re in too big of a hurry. Why is that? Are we afraid we’ll miss something?
I’m afraid I’ll miss something if I don’t take time to watch those leaves slip from verdant green to glorious gold. Or take a moment to breathe in the crisp, clean air of autumn, and give God a minute to touch my heart.
Lord, help me slow my internal clock to Your eternal tempo. Help me fuel up on You.
~
We’re in too big of a hurry.
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Etta grieved the passing of Bern’s Indian summer. It fled like a lamb before wolfish storms. The cottonwood tree dropped its leaves, gold coins carpeting the ground, and a hard frost quickly ended the garden.
She had collected several yellow leaves and pressed them between the pages of her Bible as keepsakes from her time in Lockton. A precious reminder of the afternoon she’d spent alone with Bern. Full of surprises he’d been, first with his invitation and then his open-hearted sharing, and she still ached at the story of his uncle and father. In his own way, he embodied what they each stood for. No wonder he’d agreed to serve Lockton in both professions, though she sensed it was taking a toll on him.
She sensed something else as well, yet she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Every now and then she caught him watching her, his mouth slightly open, as if he was about to speak. Then he’d clamp his jaw and turn away. ~Mail-order Misfire
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September 9, 2019
Seeing the Unseen
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
I couldn’t sleep.
Again.
The 4 o’clock hour winked in digital red from my clock radio, so I went into the living room and opened the windows and door, welcoming the cool breath of predawn.
At the door, I stilled. For there in the night sky rose one of the few constellations I can identify—Orion—clear and shining against the black canopy. The Hunter, some civilizations have called him, rising above the treetops with his sword and bow.
I am not a student of the stars. I am, however, a student of the Star Maker, and I marveled at His handiwork, flung, the scriptures say, from His fingertips.
Recorded in the oldest of the biblical books is God’s conversation with a man named Job. A man who, I imagine, viewed many a night sky unpolluted by artificial light. How brilliantly it must have glittered then!
“Can you bind the cluster of the Pleiades, or loose the belt of Orion?” God asked.
How small Job must have felt.
How small I felt when, an hour later, Orion was gone, having paled against the approaching dawn. Yet I had a sense he was still there, striding the heavens.
He was certainly there, as are all the celestial lights, though diminished in daylight by the sun. The sky holds an unseen landscape that we forget about as we go about our daily business.
I have since wondered why I saw Orion during his brief appearance that early morning, and I sense it was one of God’s varied ways of reminding me of His presence even though I don’t see Him.
It is in God’s nature to comfort His people with his closeness, as when he opened the eyes of the biblical prophet Elisha’s servant to see the unseen army protecting them from a very visible, approaching enemy.
“Do not fear, for those who are with us are more than those who are with them,” Elisha told the young man.
The Lord opened the servant’s eyes and he “saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha” (2 Kings 6:16,17 NIV).
I may not always sense or see the Lord of Heaven’s Armies by my side, so I appreciate His reminders – in whatever form they may come. For in my journey on this earth, I am still learning to fix my eyes “not on what is seen, but on what is unseen” (2 Cor. 4:17-18).
~
Have you seen the unseen?
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Her reticule. She’d forgotten about the pastor’s gift she’d crushed into it.
After removing the cord from her wrist, she drew the crumpled envelope from the small black bag. Her breath caught at two crisp twenty-dollar notes inside—each one bearing Alexander Hamilton on one end staring serenely toward a helmeted, shield-bearing woman at the other.
Etta had not seen the new notes and now she had two, in addition to a different sort of note, handwritten by Pastor Fillmore.
The God of love and peace be with you. You are in our prayers.
Tears welled at the thought of others praying for her. She did not know what lay ahead, but God did. Of all the things she might ask for, His peace was what she needed most. ~Mail-order Misfire
Barbara Raymond – you are the randomly chosen winner of last week’s giveaway. Contact me for your free e-copy of Mail-order Misfire!
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September 2, 2019
What If? (and a giveaway)
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Authors are always asking themselves what-if questions. Such a habit seems contradictory in the lives of those who believe the Lord will provide their every need.
As one of those believers, I’ve learned it’s highly unproductive to plague myself with questions like, “What if something goes wrong?” “What if I fail?” “What if I don’t have enough money/time/energy/patience?”
I’ve also learned that 99 percent of the things I worry about never happen.
But as an author, it’s my job to make such things happen in the lives of my characters. (Can you see me rubbing my hands together and grinning?)
So here’s the what-if question I asked while working on my newest Western romance:
“What if the child of a widowed father wrote for a mail-order bride but didn’t tell dear old Dad?”
For some reason, that question evoked instant emotional fireworks in my head. Possibly because I’m a parent.
So there you have it – the premise for my new book that releases tomorrow, Sept. 3, Mail-order Misfire.
I hope you’ll read it and find out what happens to the little girl Gracie, her papa Bern Stidham, and a recently widowed seamstress named Etta Collier.
And if you simply must ask what-if questions in your own life, try asking these:
What if, after everything goes wrong, it all goes right?
What if the good guy wins after all?
What if I really am loved?
Answers to these and other questions are found in a little book called Revelation in the back of a bigger book known as the Bible. Enjoy!
For a chance to win an e-copy of Mail-Order Misfire, comment on the following question (in bold):
Etta did not know what lay ahead, but God did. Of all the things she might ask for, His peace was what she needed most. Can you share about a time in your life when God’s peace saw you through a difficult and unexpected situation?
~
What-ifs and a giveaway.
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In spite of working up a sweat and sore muscles, Bern slept little that night, asking himself over and over if this predicament had God’s fingerprint on it. Had God finagled this whole mess or just allowed it? What happened to Bern’s free will? ~Mail-order Misfire
Mail-order Misfire is Book 2 of a six-book collection titled “Thanksgiving Books & Blessings” with authors Mary Connealy, Caryl McAdoo, Samantha Bayarr, Liz Tolzma, and Allison Pittman. See the collection here.
*Thank you, blogger and reviewer Phyllis Helton of amongTheReads.net, for the great meme at the head of today’s post.
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