Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 40
November 27, 2017
Come to Me
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
“Where is my daddy?” asked my four-year-old granddaughter Sunday morning. “I want to run to him.”
This little bundle of energy had bee-line vision for her father, but I gripped her hand tightly. We stood at the edge of the road, about to cross the street into a parking lot full of cars, cars, cars!
After we made it safely to the church, I let go and she dashed inside, straight into her father’s arms.
Those words—“I want to run to him”—grabbed my heart and twisted. That little girl would never say such a thing unless she knew he would accept her, catch her up, and hold her close. She was confident that she’d be surrounded by his strength, safe from all the world, and she didn’t care who was watching.
I’ve seen no better picture of what our heavenly Father wants from us—unrestrained trust and adoration.
Jesus said two things that link together like a parent’s arms around their child:
“Come to Me” (Matthew 11:28).
“Whoever comes to me I will never drive away” (John 6:37).
How blessed we are to know that we can run to our Father and His everlasting arms with hold us. (Deut. 33:27)
~~~
Caleb trimmed the lamp on the crate until the wick smoked out, then rolled to his side. His eyes closed and soon he drifted across a ripening wheat field with golden heads bent beneath a scuttling breeze. He saw himself running through the field—running toward an aging man who stood open-armed, tears streaming down his face and into his beard.
Caleb fell at the man’s feet but was lifted upright and embraced. Enfolded, Caleb let go of his remorse and resentment. Exchanged them for peace. And found the deep restful sleep of one who is forgiven. ~Loving the Horseman
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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November 20, 2017
An “Everything” List
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
We hear it a lot: “Be grateful.”
Other renditions suggest, “Things could be worse.” “You have it better than most.”
The Christian-ese phrase I’ve known since childhood says,
“In everything give thanks, for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” (I Thess. 5:18)
Yeah, that.
Some days it’s hard to come up with an “everything” list when the craziness whirls, dreams fade, and expectations shatter.
But I’ve discovered over the years that this thankful-thinking really works. Especially if I don’t start with—or wait for—my emotions.
It’s not about feeling grateful, it’s about being grateful. And aren’t we human beings?
Not that we should look heavenward and snipe, “Yeah, God, thanks a lot.”
Um, no. Rather, we have a choice. And since our reactions and responses are probably the only things over which we truly have control, why not choose gratitude?
We can start small.
Give thanks for the hot coffee in your cup each morning.
Give thanks for the cup.
How about that person who smiled at us in the market? (If no one smiled, maybe we should start the process.)
Or the glory of changing seasons.
Indoor plumbing. (Seriously, think about it.)
The Bible we read, whether pixel or paper.
Clothes to wear. Food to eat. Breath in our lungs.
The fact that we’re on this side of the grass and not under it.
There have been so many times in my life when I wanted to know God’s will for a particular situation. The above quote from 1 Thessalonians is a pretty clear directive on one thing that is definitely God’s will.
So let’s give it a try.
Can you list one thing in the comment section below?
Blessings to you this Thanksgiving.
~~~
An Improper Proposal
Lying in the mud beneath the wagon, he thanked God for bringing her to him. For he was finally convinced that the Lord had done exactly that. ~An Improper Proposal
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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November 13, 2017
Out of Reach
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
From where I sit by the wood stove on cold mornings, I can see through the kitchen and out the window to the ash trees bordering my neighbor’s property. Stripped by autumn winds, they stand bereft of their fall finery, boney branches scratching the sky.
Three bird nests hang exposed in lofty forks, unprotected from the often-relentless gusts sweeping off the Rocky Mountains. Those blasts can bend my outdoor thermometer mounting flat against the window frame, yet the nests remain intact, without benefit of nail or wire or human help to hold them in the highest branches.
They are safe.
Safe from assaulting wind and snow and hail.
Safe from my marauding feline huntress.
Safe and awaiting summer leaves that will hide birds returning to raise their young.
One particularly gusty morning when depressing news swept into my home and heart, I looked out at those nests, secure and unmoved, and remembered that God values me more than a whole flock of birds.
I remembered that He said He would set me on high, lift me above my enemies, and hide me in the shadow of His wings.
And peace settled around me—in spite of the wind that still blew.
May we always find that place of His presence in our homes and hearts, reminding us that His peace is indestructible. For His promises are true.
~~~
An Improper Proposal
If God gave her peace, then it was hers to reject or accept. ~An Improper Proposal
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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November 6, 2017
“I am with you.”
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Abram was a wealthy and powerful man in his day—wealthy and powerful enough that when his nephew Lot was taken captive by the armies of four marauding kings, Abram raised a force from among his own people, chased down the kings, and rescued Lot.
Not bad for a nomadic stockman.
Yet in spite of Abram’s strength and military prowess, the Lord later spoke to him, saying, “Don’t be afraid” (Gen. 15:1 NIV). The New Living Translation reads, “Do not be afraid, Abram, for I will protect you…”
With great tenderness, God addressed Abram’s deepest fear. His fear of being alone, of having no heir to carry on the family name or provide grandchildren in his old age.
I imagine the Patriarch awake in the lonely darkness, wondering, maybe fretting over what the future held. I see him like this because the scriptures say God took Abram outside and told him to look at the stars, count them if he could. For they represented the numberless descendants God would give him. (Genesis 15:1-6)
The Lord’s assurance of His presence with Abram is one we find repeated often. It’s as if God says the same thing over and over through the millennia, “I am with you.”
Some who heard this promise were Isaac, Moses, Joshua, and Jeremiah. Isaiah repeated the words to God’s people. Jesus spoke them to His disciples on a hill in Galilee, and He assured their truth by the presence of the Holy Spirit to the generations following (John 14:18).
The Apostle Paul heard them, and we can claim their assurance today.
It is the same God who cast the stars from His fingers that whispers in our darkest night, “I am with you.”
Take Him at his word. As Abram believed God, so too can we.
Listen with all your heart, and you will hear Him say,
“Don’t be afraid, I am with you.” Isaiah 41:10
~~~
He sank onto his bedroll, eased back against his saddle, and waited for the stars to show—again. He could nearly chart them from watching them wink into view each night, as constant and familiar as his horses.
Restfulness settled over him for the first time since he’d left St. Joseph. The muscles in his neck and legs relaxed, and tension seeped from his spine as the river chattered like a secret companion just a few feet away. Three months riding alone had given him plenty of time to think about his life, where he’d been, and where he was going. –Loving the Horseman
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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October 30, 2017
One Blessing After Another
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
About this time every year, an unusual looking fruit appears in the produce section of the super market—one that I first sampled at my grandparents’ farm in California. Pomegranates.
The only attractive thing about the appearance of a pomegranate is its exquisite garnet color.
Beyond that, the round, tough-skinned fruit isn’t exactly pretty, but its ruby insides are sweet, juicy, and nutty all at the same time. It is truly an unusual fruit.
Of the six tree fruits mentioned in the Hebrew Bible—grapes, figs, olives, pomegranates, dates, and apples—the unattractive pomegranate was chosen by God to adorn the High Priest’s garment that was worn in service at the Tabernacle.
Later, when Solomon built a more permanent temple, the capitals of two bronze pillars were decorated with pomegranates, as many as 200 pomegranates per pillar.
It seems like grape clusters would have been more elegant. Or apples. Yet, in my wondering about why God chose pomegranates rather than something prettier, I missed the obvious.
The other five fruits mentioned bear seeds in the flesh of each fruit, from one to several, depending on the variety.
But beneath the leathery skin of the pomegranate, there is nothing but seeds.
Much has been written about the symbolism associated with pomegranates. Here are a couple of sites with information:
When I look at this unusual fruit decorating my dining table in the fall, I like to think of it as a globe of goodness. The sweet, nutty seeds just keep coming, one after the other, like God’s many blessings.
“From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another” (John 1:16).
~~~
At least she and Daddy could get warm and be out of the crisp fall air. The acknowledgement settled like a thick quilt against her soul, reminding her that small blessings were still blessings. ~Loving the Horseman
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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October 23, 2017
“I Will Give You Rest”
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Years ago I heard a preacher explain his take on three segments of our waking hours: morning, afternoon, and evening.
“Work two of them,” he said. “Not three.”
He didn’t tout one segment over the others as the one to take off, he simply said to pick two during which you’re the most productive and use the third to recharge.
As an a.m. person, I’m out of the chute before dawn. Morning is when most of my work is accomplished, and I continue strong into the afternoon.
Between five and six, I start winding down. But the crazy thing is, I have to make myself stop.
There’s so much more I could accomplish if I just pressed on. Then I remember that pastor’s advice, and I stop the work. Not all activity, just the work part of it. The evening is spent reading or researching, enjoying the waning day or a hobby, or maybe watching a movie.
An added benefit is that I sleep better when I’m not grinding at the grist mill all my waking hours. For me, recharging occurs during wakeful rest, not just during exhausted sleep.
Not everyone can follow this advice. Many people work twelve-hour shifts with road-time tacked on to each end. Little down time is left.
Others work two jobs just to make ends meet. And a few of us writer types are frequently on deadline which pushes us into the late-night hours.
But when it’s possible, I relish those few wakeful hours before bedtime when I’m not in overdrive, high-productivity mode.
They’re a good time to take a walk. Read a book. Play with the children or visit a friend. Drink in the beauty of God’s creation. Rest—with eyes open.
I hope you can try it. It’s surprisingly refreshing.
It is useless for you to work so hard from early morning until late at night, anxiously working for food to eat; for God gives rest to his loved ones. Psalm 127:2
~~~
The promised peace settled upon him like a warm cloak. Outside the wind beat against the livery, and the building groaned in the onslaught. He wrapped his arms across his chest and held the book within them. Finally, after months of running, here in a barn, he could rest in God’s expected end. Not what he, Caleb, had expected, but what the Lord had planned. ~Loving the Horseman
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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October 16, 2017
Outlived your purpose?
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Nine years ago at my first writers’ conference, I met with a well-known (and probably exhausted) novelist for what industry folk call a “one-on-one.” It was the equivalent of a first-grader sitting down with a Ph.D. professor for a career pep-talk.
“What do you write,” the author asked.
I was such a greenhorn in the fiction-writing world, I didn’t even have a sense of direction about what I wanted to write. At least I knew enough not to say, “Whatever you want.”
As a seasoned journalist. I’d covered everything from my community’s largest pumpkin patch, monthly school board meetings, and the annual 4-H livestock sale to fatal vehicle accidents, bank robberies, and the Columbine school shooting. I’d won awards, including one for a feature story in the Prorodeo Sports News, and I’d sold inspirational material to several Christian publications. I knew how to tell a story, and I wanted to start telling my own.
But first I had to pick a category.
Contemporary, historical, romance, suspense, Christian, general market, board books for small children, middle-grade stories, thrillers, cozy mysteries, suspense, horror, sci-fi, fantasy…
You get the idea.
I’d taken three partial manuscripts with me to that interview: a children’s story about a hen that crowed (because we actually had a hen that crowed), a 30-day devotional book for women (nonfiction again), and a contemporary romantic-suspense novel about a gal in a beach-side bungalow who thought she was being stalked.
What I didn’t have was focus.
The author looked at the hen story, handed it back, eyed me with pity and said, “It’s a little late. You should have started this years ago,” or something to that effect.
I picked up my folder, said thank you, and took my thick-skinned reporter’s attitude to the next workshop on the conference agenda.
That was nine published books ago. All fiction.
Thank God I didn’t let that 15-minute interview squelch my dream.
Of course I’m not the only traveler in this world to hit roadblocks.
One of my favorite (nonfiction) stories has to do with a young Royal who had a temper, killed a guy who was mistreating someone else, and ended up a fugitive on the backside of a Middle East desert. He probably thought it was too late, that he’d be a sheep herder the rest of his life.
God had other plans for Moses.
Another guy named David rocked his way into a king’s palace, where he was soon dodging spears, assassination plots, and deadly jealousy.
Then there’s Peter, a world-class fisherman, who changed the world with his words because God saw beyond his limitations.
Some of us have old dreams hiding deep inside. Some of us are afraid that we’ve outlived our usefulness, our purpose.
Some of us think it’s too late because we lost our job, a relationship crumbled, or the doctor gave us bad news.
Here’s the news we need to consider: God is never caught by surprise.
What we call “too late” could be a reboot.
Jesus said, “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev. 21:5).
Like Moses, David, and Peter, we can give God the chance to do that very thing with us. Or we can curl up in a ball because “it’s too late.”
What will it be?
~~~
Step into the 1800s and read how God showed three men and three women that it wasn’t too late. Initially released as stand-alone books in 2014, the Cañon City Chronicles have been freshly edited, re-covered, and two of them renamed. I wrote them as a series about a fictional family set against the historical backdrop of Cañon City, Colorado, and I’m thrilled to offer them in that format today. Each book does stand alone, but there is a continuity that connects them all, an element of watching a family grow through challenges, heartaches, and second chances. A variety of purchase options can be found by clicking on the boxed set image.
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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October 9, 2017
All the Trees … Sing for Joy!
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Autumn is my favorite season. It’s as if God turns on a hidden light somewhere, and everything starts glowing from the inside out.
Trees.
Flowers.
Mountains.
Sky.
I can almost hear the colors – because of the light.
Without light, there would be no color. No reds or golds or lavenders. No sweet green, warm yellow, or crystal blue. Nothing.
A recent morning quiet time led me to John 8:12, and the familiar words captivated me in a new way.
“I am the light of the world,” Jesus said. “Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
Never walk in darkness. I like that part.
This promise resounds in the fall festival of color around us – as if creation is praising the One who gives it life, reminding us that His light shines from the inside out.
As the Psalmist wrote, “Blessed are those who have learned to acclaim you, who walk in the light of your presence, Lord” (Psalm 89:15).
May we walk in such life-light during this season of splendor!
~~~
Available for pre-order, The Cañon City Chronicles
Caleb had read about the aspen that flecked the mountains—those white-barked trees that bore the gold men didn’t hunt, the kind that showed itself year after year as witness to a providential hand. ~Loving the Horseman, Book 1
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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October 2, 2017
In Returning and Rest
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Have you ever discovered a pathway that looks like the road home? Even if you never walked it and never lived there?
It invites you.
That’s how I felt when I first saw this path through an autumn wood. Unknown to me, it beckoned, as if it led to a perfect place where I’d want to stay forever.
What is it about these forested lanes and winding trails that draw us as if to what our hearts might call “the way home”?
“Home” means different things to different people.
For some, it’s not such a positive place and they never want to go back. For other’s it’s an environment they never want to leave.
And for others still, home is not a place but a person.
I think that’s what God was telling His wayward people through the prophet Isaiah:
“In returning and rest you shall be saved;
In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.”
By returning to Him, they would find what they lacked.
When I need rest and quietness and confidence, I return to Him, my “first love” (Rev. 2:4).
I can truly rest only in His presence, when I lay aside what troubles me and focus my attention on Him.
And it helps when I discover a lovely path like the one pictured above, where I can “go home” to Him and spend time listening and letting go.
May you find such a place this fall as nature puts on her finery and invites you to walk the pathway home.
~~~
All she’d ever wanted was a real home. ~An Improper Proposal
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(c) 2017 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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September 25, 2017
Persistence
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
My friend took this picture because she had to.
Not because she likes spiders (she doesn’t), but because of the amazingly, intricate design patiently created by a small, faithful spinner – an orb-weaver.
I’m not a spider fan either, but as part of God’s creation, they too have something to show us, and I believe this spinner’s lesson is persistence.
Tenacity.
Doggedness.
Resolve.
Jesus mentioned such perseverance during a conversation on prayer.
“Keep on asking … keep on seeking … keep on knocking.” (Luke 11:9-10)
The bottom-line message? Don’t quit. Don’t give up. Don’t let go.
“For everyone who asks, receives. Everyone who seeks, finds. And to everyone who knocks, the door will be opened.”
~~~
Coming soon! Book 1 in the Cañon City Chronicles, re-released under new cover, new title, and fresh edits. (Originally published in 2014 as The Cowboy Takes a Wife.)
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