Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 33

The Fool Says…There Is No God.

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Today is April Fool’s day, observed in many Western nations as an opportune time to play jokes on the gullible and unsuspecting.

I’ve played tricks on employers, family members, and students and have had plenty of tricks played on me. It’s a fun day for a bit of levity that dates back centuries and has several theories of origin for those who enjoy research.

However, the day always reminds me of what a shepherd boy said as recorded in Psalm 53:1 –

“The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”

That young man lived off the land. He watched the celestial circuit of sun and moon and stars. He warmed himself by campfire in the night, listened to the calls of predators stalking his sheep, and fought them off when necessary. He observed the world around him, knew the seasons and how they changed. He could find water and grass enough for grazing and knew in his heart that a loving God had made it all.

Elsewhere he wrote:

“When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars, which You have ordained, what is man that You are mindful of him, and the son of man that You visit him?” (Psalm 8:3-4)

This shepherd was a songwriter, if you will, and his name was David.

The “fools” of our modern-day pranks may momentarily believe false information and fake news. But do they believe there is no God?

Have they watched a horse run in all its unfettered glory? Do they see the sunflower turn its bright face from east to west, following the path of that for which it is named? Have they watched a newborn calf or fawn or lamb suckle its mother with an inborn knowledge of what it should do?

Art lovers and critics have long followed the thumb prints of creators, identifying artists by their technique, their use of light and shadow, their subject matter, etc. The same can be said of authors. JK Rowling tried to write secretly under the pseudonym, Robert Galbraith, yet curious readers noted similarities between Galbraith’s and Rowling’s literary approach, and the ruse was uncovered. Her “voice” was recognized.*

The same can be said of God. Consider the  concept of “three” so consistently repeated in our world:

Time – past, present, future (yesterday, today, tomorrow)

Water – liquid, solid, vapor

Requirements for plant growth – sun, soil, water

Our sun – the star itself, light, heat

Primary colors from which all others come – red, yellow, blue

Modalities of learning – visual, auditory, kinesthetic

The threefold cord of a basic braid

The threefold chord of a musical key – first, third, fifth

Ourselves – spirit, soul, body

The attributes of the triune Creator are evident in His creativity, for trinity is all around us.

If we are fooled today, may it not be that we are fooled by disbelief. Look around and see the reflection of our God. His fingerprint is everywhere.

Don't be fooled by disbelief: God's fingerprint is everywhere.
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Now an audio book.

The young preacher spoke with such energy and conviction, that the words ignited hope. A new life? Could he really be new, in spite of all his missing parts?

The remainder of the service blurred out of focus as he stared at the pew ahead and analyzed the preacher’s conditional statement. The new-creation promise had a big if attached to the front end.

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*Many authors openly write under pseudonyms as a means of distinguishing between different genres.

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Are We Living Too Fast?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

One morning as I hurried around the house, fretting over my ever-growing to-do list, I muttered, “Did time go this fast for the Hebrews who wandered in the wilderness? How about when David was a shepherd boy, giant-killer, and king? Or when Jesus walked on earth as a man.

“Did it fly like it does for me, Lord? March is nearly over! Where have the days gone?”

A few moments after indulging in that glass of whine, I sat down with my copy of Daily Light, a collection of topical scriptures compiled in 1794. Turning to the day’s page, I read the words of Job:

            “Now my days are swifter than a runner; they flee away…” Job 9:25 (NAS)

Wow. As if God knew.

Clearly, my complaint was not original if a man who lived thousands of years ago felt the same way.

Not long after my revelation with Daily Light, my son texted me a screenshot of his smartphone stopwatch. He had timed his checkout and exit from a local store, thinking it would prove what he always complains about—that it takes “forever.”

The screenshot did indeed prove the actual amount of real time used, beginning from when he entered the line behind two other shoppers with full carts, checked out, walked to his car, unloaded his purchases, took his cart to the cart corral, walked back to his car, got in, and started the engine.

Just over eight minutes.

“We’re living too fast,” he told me after sending the photo.

My son recognized the inward push that makes him hurry all the time and miss out on interacting with the people and environment around him.

Lewis Carroll’s White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland made a similar observation. “The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” Published in 1865, this pithy, pre-technological-age quote sounds like it was written last week.

Modern author James Bryan Smith addresses the same issue in chapter nine of his book, The Good and Beautiful God. “Hurry sickness,” he calls it.

The first author I mentioned, Job, continues his lament in his own chapter nine:

“Now my days are swifter than a runner; they flee away, they see no good.”

I cannot agree with Job in his final point, for I am surrounded by God’s good and detailed blessings. They are everywhere—obvious and hidden, small and great, joyous and serene.

But they will pass me in a whir if I don’t slow down and observe, touch, taste, smell, and listen to them.

Time is as God set it in the beginning – the same.

The problem is in my perception and application of it.

If you’re like me, are you living too fast? What can you do this week to slow down and catch a glimpse of God’s blessings all around you?

~

We're living too fast.
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The winner of last week’s random drawing for a copy of Katelyn’s Choice is Lori Smanski. Congratulations! Please contact me, Lori, to receive your free copy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Guest Post by Author Susan G. Mathis and a Giveaway!

“Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth!”

Many of us struggle with gossip, frivolous chatter, and unwholesome talk – all caused by what the book of James calls “a small part of the body…that makes great boasts,” the tongue. James goes on to compare the tongue to a spark that creates a forest fire.

Proverbs 18:21 tells us that the tongue has “the power of life and death.” With this in mind, my historical novel, Katelyn’s Choice, explores a timeless principle: Words matter.

We are reminded in Proverbs 15:4 that words can heal but they can also break a person’s spirit. Who hasn’t experienced both of these? I sure have! And my protagonist, Katelyn, does too.

Thankfully, Katelyn has some faithful mentors who speak into her life and nudge her to change.

Do you? Do you have those who are free to challenge your words, encourage you to speak truth and life, nudging you to change when you need to? If you don’t, I’d like to encourage you to find that friend who is closer than a brother, one who can help you tame your tongue and bring God glory through your words.

– Susan G. Mathis

Words matter.
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Thank you, Susan, for such an important reminder and encouragement.

All commenters below will be entered in a random drawing for a free e-copy of Susan’s newest release, Katelyn’s Choice. Read the preview excerpt that follows.

The Gilded Age comes to life in this first installment of the Thousand Islands Series, Katelyn’s Choice!

Katelyn Kavanagh’s mother dreamed her daughter would one day escape the oppressive environment of their Upstate New York farm for service in the enchanting Thousand Islands, home to Gilded Age millionaires. But when her wish comes true, Katelyn finds herself in the service of none other than the famous George Pullman, and the transition proves anything but easy.

Thomas O’Neill, brother of her best friend, is all grown up and also working on Pullman Island. Despite Thomas’ efforts to help the irresistible Katelyn adjust to the intricacies of her new world, she just can’t seem to tame her gossiping tongue—even when the information she’s privy to could endanger her job, the 1872 re-election of Pullman guest President Ulysses S. Grant, and the love of the man of her dreams.

Here’s an excerpt from Katelyn’s Choice, the first in the Thousand Island Gilded Age series. Released March 15, I hope it will whet your imagination and desire to read the entire story.  – Susan

McCarthy came into the room. “Sit, please, Miss Katelyn.” He seemed so serious, so somber, that Katelyn feared another tongue lashing—or worse. He pulled up a chair facing her and looked directly at her. “I know you are young, but you must honor the ways of the Pullmans. Marriage is a difficult thing, and some marriages are more difficult than others. Parenting is hard as well; you and I are not skilled in such tasks, so we must not judge.”

McCarthy paused and looked deep into her eyes as if he examined her very soul. “You were not here when Mr. Pullman disciplined his children. Always remember that assumptions and judgments are rarely accurate. Even if they are, it is not your place to judge, and it is certainly not your place to speak such judgments.”

Katelyn’s eyes brimmed over with tears, and McCarthy took her small hands in his large ones. “There, there. All of us are human and err. When I was young, I also held many opinions that were not for me to speak. But I will tell you a secret; I found a leash for my tongue in one place, and in one place only.”

Katelyn grasped at the small glimmer of hope. “Where, dear sir? Do say.”

“In the Word of God. In the book of Proverbs, mainly, but in other texts as well. They hold the keys to control, if you will but apply them.”

“Thank you, sir. I will look for the keys.” Katelyn wiped at her tears.

~

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Marigolds or Miracles?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

When my daughter was a small child, she referred to the marigolds in our garden as “miracles.” I didn’t correct her.

My young son once pointed to shafts of sunlight breaking through a cloud bank and said, “Maybe heaven’s having a tour.”

What a concept.

More recently, a granddaughter told me she went to visit the Space Beetle. Her family had been to Seattle, so I knew what she meant. And another granddaughter said she likes going to the radio.

Rodeo.

These childish expressions are dear to me. They fill me with glimpses of what the Father must feel when we approach Him with our imperfect words. He doesn’t chase us off, yelling, “Come back when you can say it right!”

No, He welcomes us, encourages us, teaches us in love according to the pace at which we can learn. He is ever patient and understands our speech even when it’s not perfect.

He hears our heart…and teaches us how to hear His.

But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them!

For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children.”

Matthew 19:14 NLT

~

He hears our heart…and teaches us how to hear His.
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Now an audiobook.

 

I could use a hand here, Lord. Better yet, a foot. ~The Miracle Tree

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Family Ties

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Laura Jameson Bell was born in the 1870s. She buried two husbands, all her children, and was 104 when she died. Toward the end of her life, she lived with my family since we were the only living relatives she had. My mother was her niece.

When I was a child, Aunt Laura taught me to make bread, sugar cookies, and pie crust by “feel” without a recipe. She’d go to second-hand stores and buy wool coats, then bring them home, cut them into strips, and make colorful room-sized braided rugs that wore like iron. They weighed a ton and my mother didn’t really want those rugs in her modern home, but neither did she want to hurt her elderly aunt’s feelings. Braiding rugs gave Aunt Laura something to do. And they gave my mother a backache when she tried to vacuum them. Or roll them up to vacuum under them. Or drag them outside to beat them. No kidding. Cleaning those rugs was almost impossible.

Aunt Laura used to tell me stories about growing up in…well, I’m not sure where. I thought it was Missouri, but it could have been Texas or Louisiana because her family lived in those places as well. She talked about hail stones as big as eggs and tornado winds strong enough to drive straw into a post.

In my youthful arrogance, I wasn’t so sure I believed her. After all, things like that never happened in California’s San Joaquin Valley where we lived at the time.

But when she told me how, as a child, she had once evaded Indians by hiding in a flour barrel, I decided she wasn’t making this stuff up. Who would do that, right?

She called the wandering bands “Indians” because political correctness wasn’t even peeking over the horizon yet. She didn’t mention tribal origins, only the fact that these curious groups had a tendency to pick up children who weren’t nailed down, so to speak.

(Such a thing reportedly happened here in Cañon City in the 1860s when an early settler marched out to the Ute camp and retrieved her child after the little thing had been temporarily relocated.)

Aunt Laura was never relocated. She was good at hiding.

She was also good at doing pretty much what she wanted.

One day she showed me a little flat box holding a long coil of auburn hair that she’d cut off after her husband told her she couldn’t. According to the story, she met him at the door that evening with a styled bob, and that was the end of the argument.

She also told me, with a light in her aged eye, about stepping from a buggy showing a bit too much ankle, unsettling the menfolk nearby. And how she bought a pair of trousers and wore them to her friend’s house, hiding behind bushes in neighboring yards along the way.

Or so the story goes.

I was always a little in awe of great-aunt Laura, how she could cook, and braid rugs, and make quilts. Her wedding-ring quilt pictured above is hand-stitched from her younger days when she used whatever she could find for the backing—like an old flour sack.

But I particularly liked her name. I didn’t know another Laura, aside from Laura Ingalls Wilder, and I certainly didn’t know her either.

Today, looking back on my career as an author of historical Western romance, it seems that I would have chosen Aunt Laura’s name for a character in one of my historical novels, as I have with other ancestors. Instead, I named the heroine of a contemporary cowboy romance Laura Bell. Perhaps it was my way of continuing Aunt Laura’s legacy, assuring that she would live on through this age with a family tie that binds us still. Like the quilt.

If you’d like to read about the modern version of Laura Bell, you can find her in The Miracle Tree.

~

I have written your name on the palms of my hands.

(Isaiah 49:16 NLT)

 

She was also good at doing pretty much what she wanted.
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The Miracle Tree is now available on audio!

Her pulse throbbed in her throat, and with long, slow breaths, she scanned the ranch, listening for restlessness among the livestock. All lay still, as much as she could tell, and again she wished for binoculars. Better yet, night-vision goggles like Eli and Garcia used. Perhaps Eli saw her from his lookout.

Slowly, the crickets picked up their abandoned chorus and the bullfrog thrummed. Night whispered through the grass.

Rising from the swing, she gathered the quilt against her body and at the screen door stooped to peer through the bottom for the kittens. They tumbled in the kitchen, and she slipped in, softly closing the door behind her and turning the lock. Pete and Re-Pete bounded across the room and sank their claws in the dangling quilt corners. Chuckling, she dragged them to the bedroom and dropped them on the bed, where they skittered to the floor and dashed beneath the dust ruffle.

She held the quilt wide and snapped it in the air, and it floated to the bed in a silent flutter as the first shot rang out. ~The Miracle Tree

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Are You a Troublemaker?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Are you a troublemaker?

Before you answer that question, let’s talk about what a troublemaker is and why sometimes it’s a good thing.

Usually when we think of a troublemaker, we think of that kid in school who was always in the principal’s office. (That wasn’t you, was it?) Troublemakers were the attention-grabbing rabble-rousers. A few never grew out of it. 

On the other hand, some people are called to be troublemakers for very specific reasons:

1.      Comic relief

2.      Reader engagement

3.      New perspectives

Comic relief:

In the picture above, rodeo clown Wilbur Plaugher is making a point with my husband, barrelman Mike Spencer, during the bull riding at a California rodeo. The audience loved it.

For the arena comics, making trouble meant making people laugh.

Reader engagement:

As an author, I’m constantly causing trouble for the characters in my novels. No one wants troubles of their own, but neither do they want to read a namby-pamby story about some person with a perfect life who lives in a perfect world.

Conflict-riddled readers need conflict in their stories because they need victory – even if it’s someone else’s.

Here’s an example of starting a story with trouble:

“The shooter did not flinch.”

 (Wait, what? What shooter? Who’d he shoot? Or was it a she? Why did he/she shoot? Is someone dead?)

Starting with trouble is a good way to get the reader’s attention. 

New perspectives: 

Jesus was a troublemaker, according to some people. He told stories about fathers forgiving wayward children who didn’t deserve it and employers paying latecomers the same as those who agreed to work all day. He made outcasts into moral heroes and cast religious leaders of the day as the bad guys. The common people loved Him. Religious politicos, not so much. 

Jesus upset the status quo when He brought a new perspective of God. He could do that because He was the new way to God, the ultimate sacrifice, the premier gift.

Yes, many troublemakers bring nothing but heartache and grief, but some give us good reason to stop and consider.

Thank God for the troublemakers who have brought laughter, victory, and redemption to the rest of us.

Thank God for the troublemakers.
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An Improper Proposal

 

The shooter did not flinch. ~An Improper Proposal

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Luke 15:11-32

Matthew 20:1-16

Luke 10:25-37

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Dinosaur Footprints & More

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Some of you may know that I blog regularly for Heroes, Heroines, & History on the 17th of every month.

Yesterday was my day, and I’m sharing the link with you today. I hope you find this little tidbit about Canon City another rich nugget to add to your pile of interesting facts.

In my early school-teaching days of instructing second- and third-graders, dinosaurs were always a thrilling topic for the students. Some kids never grow out of that fascination, and they grow up to be paleontologists. 

Compare the size of this ankylosaurus footprint with a human hand.

As you’ll see if you follow the link above, I incorporated dinosaur-fossil finds into the third book of my Canon City Chronicles, Romancing the Widow, a Will Rogers Gold Medallion winner. 

I have to admit, it’s intriguing to consider that people in this area have walked where these magnificent creatures once lived. Such thoughts lead me to the book of Job, believed to be the oldest book of the Bible. Chapters 40 and 41 are interesting reading. Some scholars contend that the creatures mentioned are elephants, hippopotami, or crocodiles. 

Frankly, I think we often limit God to our own finite understanding. If He can make a bird the size of my thumb that flaps it’s wings so quickly I can’t see them, could He not make a creature beyond my imagination?

Limiting God was part of the conversation Job had with his Creator. Personally, I’m glad God is beyond my understanding. I take great comfort in His infinite knowledge, wisdom, and love.

~

Thank you everyone who participated in last week’s gathering of great reads. The randomly chosen winner of a copy of The Miracle Tree is Vicki Nicholson. Congratulations!

Dinosaur Footprints & More
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Young widow Martha Stanton returns to her parents’ parsonage in Cañon City, bereft of love and deprived of hope. As dry and lifeless as the fossils she once collected during the city’s infamous “bone wars,” she resigns herself to a dull existence—until she crosses paths with an old flame and a darkly mysterious stranger.

Colorado Ranger Haskell Jacobs is on a mission. And the flame-haired beauty in black who steps off the train isn’t what he’s looking for. Or is she? As drawn as he is to her fiery spirit, Haskell learns that she has connections to the horse thief he’s hunting. Entanglement with a preacher’s daughter is the last thing he needs—and the one thing he can’t avoid.

 

 

NOTE: America’s Small Business Revolution is on a mission to revitalize small towns, and Canon City is in the running! If you’d like to help us make it to the top, please vote here. Thank you!

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Books I Read & Loved in 2018, plus a Giveaway!

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

I read a lot. No surprise, right?

Today I’m sharing some of my favorite reads from 2018. All are what I consider to be uplifting. That doesn’t mean character lives are trouble-free. Far from it! But the end results are redemptive. That’s important to me, because people renew their minds by what they read.

Most of what I read is fiction: historical, contemporary, romance, romantic-suspense, a little action/intrigue, and Westerns.

However, I’m also reading a great nonfiction book at the moment, The Good and Beautiful God, by James Bryan Smith, so I’m going to squeeze it in first and then continue with the fiction titles.

The Good and Beautiful God addresses some of our personal narratives or stories we’ve picked up about God. Not all those narratives are healthy or accurate. When we focus on the narrative of Jesus, we get a better picture and learn how to do things differently, more easily, with greater motivation and less guilt. Changes in our everyday lives follow. I’m excited about the possibilities revealed through this book, and I hope you’ll pick up a copy of your own.

Historical Fiction:

The Miracle of Mercy Land, by River Jordan. The author’s storytelling was as strong as I’d heard, and I deeply enjoyed this unusual tale of origin, choices, community and love – with just a glimpse of time beyond time.

Historical Romance:

Christmas Charity, by Susan G. Mathis – Set in 1864, This sweet Christmas novella builds hope in the heart of those dealing with difficult family relations as the heroine, Susan Hawkins, discovers that unconditional love is all she can use to bring harmony to her new home and family.

Sons of Blackbird Mountain, by Joanne Bischof – Bischof does not disappoint. She sweeps the reader away to a different time and place where one can smell and see and hear everything in the setting. The three sons in this story are each flawed, but so is Aven, the delicate, strong-willed heroine. I love these characters and their struggles, and Bischof’s handling of their lives.

To Whisper Her Name, by Tamera Alexander – Alexander’s gripping characterization led me to believe she was writing about real people, and that I knew them. I am frequently caught up in her character development which deepens the story every time. I was eager to read the end of this one, yet I didn’t want it to end – a conflict nearly as piercing as conflicts in the story.

Western:

The Marshall of Medicine Lodge, by Stan Lynde – Another Merlin Fanshaw tale from a great Western writer. Racism, economic prejudice, and vigilante arrogance keep young Fanshaw on his toes. I hope this fictional cowboy character is riding the hills of heaven when I get there. There’s a lot I want to ask him.

Contemporary Action/Intrigue:

Kevin Leman and Jeff Nesbit’s political/family trilogy, A Perfect Ambition, A Powerful Secret, and A Primary Decision. The first book snagged me enough that I had to order book two, then three. Of course Leman and Nesbit are fabulous authors when it comes to spinning a tale, but I loved the way birth order figured into the plot. Or not. No spoilers here. If you like contemporary intrigue, you’ll enjoy all three.

Warrior’s Seal, by Ronie Kendig – Special Forces, nonstop action, a presidential kidnapping, biblical artifacts, and terrorists. Yeah. Kendig’s introductory novella to the Tox Files series had me reading about this alpha hero as fast as I could.

Contemporary Romance:

The Wedding Shop, by Rachel Hauck – Another gripping story in “The Wedding…” group. Hauck’s ability to transport the reader from present to past and back again is unparalleled. And just when I think I have the plot figured out, she throws in a surprise that has me laughing or cheering or crying. I loved seeing the unforced, organic way the Lord worked in the lives of these characters.

Together at the Table, by Hillary Manton Lodge – This endearing search for family history and true love left me wanting to be a part of the big crazy bunch of restaurateurs and take my own trip to France.

Windswept, by Julie Carobini – Sometimes I just want to go to the beach, you know? But I live in Colorado. My solution? I read Julie Carobini and I’m never disappointed. The main characters work at overcoming incidents from their pasts that threaten to flavor their futures in negative ways. If you want to “get away” this winter, grab a copy of Windswept, feel the sea breeze and warm sun, and find out more about these intriguing people.

Giveaway!

Enter for a chance to win a copy of my contemporary romance, The Miracle Tree, by commenting below with the title of a book you read last year and enjoyed. Contest opened until midnight (MT) Saturday, Feb. 16.

~

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind (Romans 12:2).

Great reads and a giveaway!
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Watch for The Miracle Tree, coming soon on Audible!

 

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Who’s Your Wagon Master?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

“The Wagon Master,” a 1909 oil by CM Russell, is one of my favorite paintings. A print of it hangs in my living room, and every time I consider the story Charles Russell is portraying, I’m reminded of two important choices we make in life: leadership and community.

Trusted leadership

The painting depicts the Westward expansion of the 1800s, in which a wagon train was much more likely to make the cross-continent trip than a single wagon.

Every wagon train had a leader – they weren’t conglomerates run by committees. The wagon master had to know where the train was going and the safest route there. Stories have been told of wagon masters that did not fit that criteria, and peril—sometimes death—was the result. But if the man was any good, he’d been to the desired destination and back at least once before. He knew the dangers and risks of the trip, as well as vital sources of forage and water.

Russell’s wagon master is prepared with an attentive horse, rifle and rounds, knife, spurs, a bull whip looped loosely around his neck, and what looks like a Union uniform jacket tied behind his saddle. His neckerchief, wide-brim hat, and leggings aren’t for show. Each serves a purpose as does everything he’s packing on his horse, including his horse.

In this picture, he watches the wagons, looking back over a river town where the train may have crossed via ferry. A rattler watches him from the scrub brush, and deep ruts in the prairie bear witness to trains that have traveled this way before. He carries tremendous responsibility for the lives of those in his train and must be bold enough to make unpopular decisions.

Community

Members of a wagon train helped each other, contributing comradery, support, and encouragement, sharing food and supplies when necessary.

Today, “circle the wagons” is a metaphorical way of saying, “get ready for attack.” The phrase originated with the circle formation of large, canvas-covered farm or freight wagons that created a barrier between the people and animals inside the ring and invaders and scavengers outside of it. Members of the wagon train relied heavily upon the premise that there is safety in numbers.

The train was a temporary setup comprised of people with a common goal, and it provided community for the several months required to make the arduous and dangerous trek. Not every sojourner made it to their destination alive, and many were buried along the trail, including infants. But those who grieved loss did not grieve alone.

Often in the evening, I look at this print and hear it ask, “Do you have community? Do you have leadership?”

I need both, and thank God, by His grace I have them.

If you can’t identify community and leadership in your life, I encourage you to find a group of believers who share your faith and life vision. Become a part of that group, nurture friendships there, and measure the leadership against the written words of God.

Our ultimate leader is Christ himself, “Jesus, who went before us” (Hebrews 6:20). 

Like the Westward journey, our lives often present danger and discouragement. May you draw comfort and comradery from a community of believers and trusted leadership.

“In bringing many sons and daughters to glory, it was fitting that God, for whom and through whom everything exists, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through what he suffered” (Hebrews 2:10 NIV).

 

~

Who's your wagon master?
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For all my historical novels, as well as a couple of contemporary stories, check out my book pages listing a variety of retailers for each book. May all that you read be uplifting.

 

 

 

For an interesting, though lengthy, post about the life of Charles M. Russell and his love of the West, click on this American Heritage link.

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Do You Have Nightlights?

By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer

Do you have nightlights in your home?

I have several throughout the house. Some are always on, faintly visible, and others pop on automatically when daylight diminishes.

These unobtrusive illuminators serve as guides for adult feet making emergency calls in the night, or as comfort for little eyes not quite accustomed to darkness. Pale blue or warm yellow, they are positioned strategically for direction or encouragement.

God made a similar provision for His people centuries ago. An old fisherman named Peter talks about it, telling us that God left lamps shining in dark places until daylight dawned.  This was his metaphor explaining what the ancient prophets said about the coming Christ. Their words were spiritual nightlights to keep people from stumbling in the dark until the Light of the World appeared.

In the margin of my Bible, next to 2 Peter 1:17-19, I have written, “nightlight until dawn.”

I love finding things like that. Little encouraging messages that give me a new way of looking at old things.

What encouraging messages have your heard lately?

~

Do you have nightlights or do you stumble?
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A black head bobbed over the crest of the hill, followed by four others. The cows crowded around the tank, slurping noisily and wiping their noses with long, slick tongues.

Laura laughed at the familiar scene long forgotten. So much of country life had slipped into dim memory.

The realization sent her to the shed that butted against the corrals—her dad’s storage area where he kept his tools and other supplies. The door opened easily and stretched cobwebs across the frame. With a piece of broken board, she cleared the opening, then stepped inside. Speckled light filtered into the dusty cavity, and most of what had once been there was gone. She scanned the workbench, looking for traces of her former life, expecting to find little if anything.  ~The Miracle Tree

 

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(c) 2019 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.

#WesternRomance #ChristianFiction

 

The post Do You Have Nightlights? appeared first on Davalynn Spencer.