Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 57

On my own?

I watch my 1-year-old granddaughter one day a week. She slows me down, thank God. She draws my focus to tiny hands, the floor I thought was clean, the lower shelves of my book case. She forces me to look at things from a different perspective. And she demonstrates an unparalleled determination.

As a new walker, she falls on her padded bottom countless times. Toddling around the house much faster than she should, she is tripped up by a loose throw rug, or a toy she doesn’t see, or the corner of the blanket she insists on dragging like Linus. But she never gives up. She just keeps getting up.

How many times have I tripped and fallen spiritually, emotionally, literally? I don’t get up quite as quickly as my granddaughter. Sometimes I just lie there for a minute and moan. After all, the ground is a little farther away for me. But just like her, I have someone watching over me, checking things out from my perspective, understanding exactly what it’s like to be in my shoes—or chubby toes. And He loves me even more than I love my granddaughter. Hard to imagine, isn’t it?

When I pick up that little bundle of wiggles to comfort her or listen to her frustrated, evolving language, I am reminded that the Lord does the same for me.

Run to Him when you fall. He will pick you up and comfort you.

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As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you;

(Isaiah 66:13 NIV)

Independence – in everything?

It rained at our house on the Fourth of July. But not as much as it did at this mud-eo a few years back in Drummond, Montana. Only once have I seen a rodeo canceled due to weather, but I guess standing water in the arena would do it.

 

 

 

Regardless of the time of year, there is always a lot of red, white and blue at a rodeo. Patriotic people, those cowboys and cowgirls. But sometimes independence isn’t what they’re looking for.

 

Independence is great when it comes to governments, kings and countries. But you won’t find an independent-minded bull rider at a rodeo. Each cowboy depends on the bullfighter to get him out of a jackpot, or to be close by in case of a hang-up.

Aren’t we the same? Not quite as self-sufficient as we’d like to think?

I’m grateful for my independence—for liberty, for freedom. But I’m also grateful that I can depend upon my husband, family and friends. I’m thankful I can depend on law enforcement and first responders if I get in a storm.

But above all, I’m dependent upon God for His faithfulness, mercy and blessings.

Jesus said there would be a few hang-ups in life. But He encouraged us to not lose heart because He has overcome everything there is to overcome. I’m dependent upon Him for that.

We have much to be thankful for in this nation, and it’s not just independence. Let’s be sure to thank our God and the men and women around us upon whom we depend to keep our country, our homes and ourselves safe and free.

Keep me safe, O God, for in you I take refuge.

Psalm 16:1 NIV

 

 

 

Welcome to Cowboy Country

Our dear friends, Mark and Lynne Schricker, took my husband and me on a picnic-lunch tour of true Cowboy Country last week – the country of my heart and the country that serves as the setting for my recent book, Branding the Wrangler’s Heart.

Hop in the back of the pickup for a fresh-air ride and pretend you’re a kid again. Or take a deep, clear breath, let go of life’s clamor and clutter, and imagine you’re trailing cows to the home ranch, enjoying the scenery and just “airing out” as Lynne puts it.

Welcome to the ranch and the winter feeding grounds…  

Not far from here stands an old cabin built by an early rancher.

  

And Mama, look! There’s water right at the house, out in the front yard, closer than the privy.   No walking to the creek.

A modern cabin stands nearby  with a solid foundation that keeps everything upright.

 

If only these old cedar-pole corrals could talk .      I’d love to hear their stories about the way it used to be.    

The hazy Sangre de Cristos raise their snowy peaks in farewell as we say good-bye to the high parks.

Indian paintbrush and mountain lupine    help soften the sadness of leaving.

But in my dreams … and in my books … I’ll be living here.

Read some winners this summer

I was so thrilled to learn that one of my books was named a finalist for two awards this year, that I kept opening the email notices over and over again just to read the good news! Silly, I know, but it’s not every day one receives such encouraging messages.

My first Heartsong Presents book from 2013, The Rancher’s Second Chance, was the novel nominated.

 

The Selah Award – Fiction: Romance

The three finalists listed alphabetically were:

Rachel Hauck—Once Upon a Prince (Zondervan)

Maureen Lang—All in Good Time (Tyndale Publishers)

Davalynn Spencer—The Rancher’s Second Chance (Love Inspired / Heartsong Presents)

The Selah Award was presented May 21 during the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference in North Carolina. Lang won the award with her historical romance, All in Good Time (Tyndale). Hauck’s contemporary novel and mine both finaled.

Just as I became accustomed to seeing my title on the Selah list, another email arrived announcing the second nomination.  I must admit, it never gets old.

Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award - Short Contemporary

The three finalists listed alphabetically are:

Yuletide Twins by Renee Andrews (Love Inspired)

For Love of Eli by Loree Lough (Abingdon Press)

The Rancher’s Second Chance by Davalynn Spencer (Heartsong Presents)

Results of the IRCA will be announced in San Antonio, Texas, July 27 during the general meeting for FHL (Faith, Hope & Love), a division of Romance Writers of America.

What an honor to be included with such fine authors. I hope you’ll check out all these titles this summer and enjoy encouraging Christian fiction.

Thank you for reading the stories of our hearts.

 

Davalynn

 

Don’t forget to remember

I found my epitaph—at least it’s what I hope my family will choose:

“Though she never performed a miraculous sign, all that she said about Jesus was true.”

That’s an almost direct quote from John 10:41 in the NIV Bible, and refers to John the Baptist: “Though John never performed a miraculous sign, all that John said about this man was true.”

“This man” is Jesus and the statement follows an explanation of why He spent a few days hanging out with his cousin on the east side of the Jordan River. I imagine a quiet setting with grazing flocks in grassy meadows. Simple people. No city noise or clamoring crowds.

Everyone who lived in the area knew ol’ John. A bit weird, perhaps; a baptizer, yes. Miracle-worker, no. But what he said about Jesus was spot on. What a reputation.

I am definitely one of the many who never performed a miraculous sign. Sometimes I feel that I’m not even making a dent, much less a difference. But as a writer, I’ve said a few things about Jesus, and those are the words that I pray will live on.

With Memorial Day recently passed, remembrance is on the hearts of many. What do you want to be remembered for?

What if God doesn’t do things my way?

“Trusting God with her eternal soul had been easy for Livvy. She had been raised to take Him at His word, and she believed what He said about salvation. It all made sense to her—God’s gift of love and salvation in Jesus. But trusting Him with her heart where Whit was concerned? For some reason, that was harder.”  Branding the Wrangler’s Heart

When I wrote Branding the Wrangler’s heart, I included this struggle in Livvy’s life because it was very close to my own. Trusting the Lord with my soul has always been easier than trusting Him with other things like my children, my career, or my family’s health.

Why is that?

Deep in my heart I know God is perfectly capable of taking care of me and those I love, so why do I fret? Why can’t I let go of worry?

I believe it has to do with choice on two levels: the choice to let God work things out and the choice to rely on Him to carry me through the result. Like Livvy in the book, I have the options of trust or anxiety. I can depend on the one who created the delicate columbine that thrives in the rugged Rocky Mountains, or I can fall back on my own understanding.

When I look at it that way, there really is no contest. My comprehension and perspective are so limited. I’m much better off uncurling my fingers and letting God take over—even when His plan doesn’t exactly match up with mine. After all, He really does know what He’s doing.

What do you struggle with when it comes to trusting God? How do you let go? I’d love to hear from you.

Davalynn

 

Congratulations to Maxie Andersen who won a signed copy of Branding the Wrangler’s Heart in last week’s drawing!

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Radio interview and giveaway

“Blot out my transgressions” is printed in blue ink on the back cover of my new book, Branding the Wrangler’s Heart. That phrase is from Psalm 51:1,2 and it undergirds one important question in the book:

Will Livvy forgive Whit for how he treated her in the past?

 As the book title indicates, branding is a key element in this tale set in 1879 Fremont County, Colorado, near Cañon City.  Not a lot has changed since then when it comes to cutting people enough slack to let them change their ways—and let the good Lord put His brand on them.

To celebrate the book’s release, I’m giving away a copy this week. Be sure to leave a comment on this blog before May 10 to be entered. And don’t forget your email address so I can notify you if you win.

If you’d like to see what I “see” for the setting and characters of Branding the Wrangler’s Heart, check out my Pinterest page.

And to hear my radio interview about the book on Christian Author Talks, click here: 

Unlike cattle, we get to choose whose brand we wear. Here’s hoping that you’ll choose the Lord and let Him fill your life with faith and fresh hope.

Davalynn

Photo by http://amandajphotos.com/

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What’s your perspective?

Every Easter brings to mind the years my family participated in a passion play at our church. Those re-enactments of key events in the life of Christ left an indelible mark on my heart.

I played the part of a woman who washed Jesus’ feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. In the play, I also stood at the foot of the cross during a theatrically realistic portrayal of the crucifixion. What struck me was my character’s varying perspective.

That woman had held Jesus’ dusty feet in her hands, kneeling over them and weeping. She had seen them up close and worshipped her Lord with an act of servitude and adoration.

If she stood at the cross with others when Christ was crucified, as I did in the play, she would have seen those same feet—up close again, but this time bearing a brutal, unnatural wound. Did she reach up and wipe away the blood?

Such contrast: looking down in adoration and looking up in despair.

Three days later, she may have gained yet another perspective while looking in with wonder at the empty tomb.

What do you see during the Easter season? I pray that your perspective is one of faith and fresh hope in our risen Lord as you consider again that He lives.

                                                                               

Read more about the woman in Luke 7:36-50.

 

Goodreads giveaway

Annual Refresher Course

Our local ranch and farm supply store is singing a song of life. As soon as you step through the sliding glass doors, the music tickles your ear and draws you to a warm spot where peeping chicks are bobbling around in their fuzzy jackets.

And keeping watch over the new crop of pullets are several well-stuffed roosters of a different feather.

 

 

 

 

This delightful ritual repeats itself annually and I’m always invigorated by the concept of new life.

Fresh start. Renewal. Hope.

Imagine if spring came only once in our lifetime. How easy it would be to forget God’s promise of revival and redemption. Instead, every year we have the chance to hear Him say, “It’s not too late.”

As the God of creation, He is also the God of re-creation, and He pointed this out to Noah after the watery ‘death’ of the world:

“As long as the earth endures,

Seedtime and harvest,

Cold and heat,

Summer and winter,

Day and night

Will never cease”

Gen. 8:22

I’m so grateful for God’s yearly refresher course and His reminder that life really does go on.

Springtime, Rabbits, and Teapots

From the tracks in the snow this winter, I figured we had a good-sized jackrabbit. Either that or a kangaroo. But it wasn’t until the last 8-inch “dusting” we received that I actually saw the critter.

Looking out the kitchen window, I spotted a new stump in the back half of our Colorado acre. I looked closer. The stump had two very long ears that would fit fine on a mule deer. And then I realized what I was looking at hunkered down in our snowy back yard.

By the time I grabbed my camera and got back to the window, he was loping into the bushes, quickly out of sight.

I told our neighbor across the street about my sighting, and she said, “Oh, that’s Jack. He has a trail that runs through here.” She should know since she sets cracked corn out for the deer, and I’ll just bet Jack noses around in it, too.

We also have a family of cottontails that live under our spreading juniper trees. Sparrows and doves and quail make themselves at home in the same trees, but I’m partial to the bunnies. They remind me of the teapot my husband’s Aunt Ida gave me one year for my birthday.

Colorado columbines circle the base, and every spring in California, I’d display the bunny teapot and think about Springtime in the Rockies. It’s nice to set that little pot out on the table now with those Rocky Mountains towering over the ridge behind our house.

If you’ve heard the phrase, Springtime in the Rockies, and wonder about its origin, click on one of the following links to hear the old-time love song

Gene Autry        Sons of the Pioneers

If you’re wondering what the real springtime in the Rockies is like, my husband’s favorite poem pretty much says it all:

Spring is sprung the grass is riz.

I wonder where the flowers is.

And if you want to read more about columbines, be sure to check out my next book set to release in May, Branding the Wrangler’s Heart.

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