Davalynn Spencer's Blog, page 8
March 24, 2024
Hosanna!
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
The mob can turn.
One day you’re the favorite, the next day you’re not.
It happened a couple thousand years ago as Jerusalem was getting ready for a big event called Passover.
Everyone was busy preparing, anticipating, and rushing around when a man rode into the city on a donkey. Not all that unusual, but the actions of the people with him were.
They spread their cloaks on the road for the donkey to walk on, waved palm branches in the air, and shouted “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the LORD! Hosanna in the highest!”
Hosanna means “send help from on high.”
This guy was trending.
The people had Messiah in mind—the one who would rescue them from oppression.
They didn’t know He was the sacrificial “lamb of God” who had come to rescue them from their sins, not wage war against Rome.
Four days later, the crowd called for His crucifixion.
They demanded it. Screamed for it.
Got it.
He wasn’t what they had expected. He didn’t fit in their idea box.
They didn’t know He was indeed the help they needed from on high, for who but God could snatch mankind from the jaws of judgement and death?
To be continued …
Because God’s children are human beings
—made of flesh and blood—
the Son also became flesh and blood.
For only as a human being could he die,
and only by dying could he break the
power of the devil,
who had the power of death.
Only in this way could he set free all
who have lived their lives as slaves to
the fear of dying.
Hebrews 2:14-15
The mob can turn.
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Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
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(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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March 17, 2024
All Things New
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
As spring approaches, I’m inclined to envy the vibrant, living metaphors of renewal sprouting in the bulb garden and singing from the trees.
Oh for a fresh start, a do-over, new growth. Is it possible? Can we rejuvenate like the flowers and trees in our yards?
I believe the answer is yes.
This is the season for new beginnings, a perfect time to take stock of our lives and lay out a plan of resolution.
Spring is our annual reminder that life really does go on. It’s another chance to hear God say, “It’s not too late.”
Forget about New Year’s resolutions and start a Spring Supplement, listing physical, spiritual, and relational areas in which you’d like to see growth.Set aside a new time of day—morning, afternoon, or evening—and spend a few quiet moments alone with the Lord. A new time may result in a new perspective.Put feet on your focus. Get moving physically with a new walking route, a new exercise routine, or a new exercise partner. Music can be an inspiring companion.Spring is a great time to rediscover God’s promises of revival and redemption. Here are three to get you started:
“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” Isaiah 43:18-19
“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” 2 Corinthians 5:17
“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Jeremiah 29:11
~
“Behold!” said He who sits on the throne.
“I make all things new.”
Revelation 21:5
All things new!
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Mae Ann left the egg basket in the kitchen and hurried out the back door with a small pail of water and a trowel. As if sensing her intentions, the dog ran ahead of her across the open field toward the small rise.
She marveled at her strength of limb and lung, for she would not have been able to hike so hurriedly when she first arrived. Colorado had been good for her, with its clean air and food for the soul. She had flourished, and she believed the rose cutting would do so as well.
Billowy clouds hung against the sky like freshly washed petticoats, adding to a sense of new beginnings. A small picket framed the matching plots, and she easily stepped over onto revered ground and knelt between the crosses. The bottom of the tree had been limbed, and morning sun slanted in, warming the earth.
She loosened the soil, planted the cutting—potato and all as Travine had directed—and patted the dirt around it. A small thorn snagged her finger, and she jerked her hand away as a red bead formed at the first knuckle. She sucked it between her teeth and with her other hand, pushed the soil into a shallow bowl. She pressed her fingers in as if investing herself in a family she’d almost become a part of. Then she emptied the pail around the cutting and watched the dirt drink it in.
Sitting back on her heels, she drew a deep breath. A breeze soughed through the big pine, and she looked up into its spreading arms, a protective canopy from the ravages of summer’s heat and winter’s blasts. No wonder Cade had picked this spot for his parents’ graves. ~An Improper Proposal
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
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(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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March 10, 2024
From the Rising of the Sun
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
It happened again.
I’m sure you noticed when you had to get up earlier.
Due to Daylight Saving Time, we “lost” an hour of sleep Saturday night so it could be saved.
How are we saving daylight?
Where is it being stored?
Is there a safety deposit box that holds all those lost hours?
State legislatures and the U.S. Senate have tried for several years to get the clock locked, but Congress can’t agree.
An article by the American Academy of Sleep Medicine in the Journal of Clinical Sleep Medicine suggests the transition to Daylight Saving Time is unhealthy and potentially dangerous due to its negative effects on human biorhythms.
It is the position of the AASM that the U.S. should eliminate seasonal time changes in favor of a national, fixed, year-round time. Current evidence best supports the adoption of year-round standard time, which aligns best with human circadian biology and provides distinct benefits for public health and safety.
What if everyday American citizens decided not to change their clocks and kept everything the way it was? Arizona, Hawaii, and several other nations of the world have done so and they didn’t fall off the map.
Here, on our little farm, the hands of the clock may advance an hour, but our donkey and goats won’t be moved from their daily routine. Birds will wake with the sunrise every morning in spite of what the alarm clock says. They don’t give up an hour in the spring and add one in the fall.
So our human lives are unsettled once again by outside pressures, yet those pressures cannot disrupt the Word of our Lord who set in motion the rising and setting of the sun as earth orbits it. In spite of what schedules and systems appear and disappear over the eons, our God remains unshaken, unmoved.
As the psalmist has said,
But as for me, I trust in You, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in Your hands; (Psalm 31:14-15).
Thank God, my times are still in His hands and not the hands of a clock.
~
From the rising of the sun
to the place where it sets,
the name of the LORD
is to be praised.
Psalm 113:3
It happened again.
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Cade’s shoulder screamed for relief, but he refused to let go of Mae Ann. The soft warmth of her through her rain-soaked blouse and skirt reminded him again that life was more than cattle and land, rustlers and renegades. 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.
And Cade had almost lost her.
He shuddered at the thought and kissed the top of her head cradled on his throbbing arm. He’d slept in spurts, but now dawn brightened the horizon and birds chirped from the brush as if there had been no storm at all.
Mae Ann pulled away and opened her eyes. She pushed herself up on her elbow and smiled at him, and it warmed him to his very core.
“It’s over.” She crawled out, leaving him profoundly empty.
He rolled out the other side and pulled himself to his feet only to be met by her hand-smothered snort across the wagon bed.
“What?”
She laughed, tried to stop, but laughed harder. “You’re … you’re … covered in mud!”
He cut her a squinted look as he rounded the back of the wagon. She giggled and backed away, playing like a young woman with her suitor. Turning to run, she slipped, but he caught her and lifted her off her feet.
“You’re not exactly spotless yourself, Mrs. Parker.” ~An Improper Proposal
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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March 3, 2024
God Sees You
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
March is Women’s History Month. Several national sponsors have added their support in “commemorating and encouraging the study, observance, and celebration of the vital role of women in American history.”
It’s an interesting topic, and more can be learned about it at the Women’s History Month website.
Recently, however, I’ve been reading about some lesser-known women who lived long before the United States was founded—interesting biblical women I didn’t learn about in children’s Sunday school.
Most of us have heard of Deborah, Ruth, Esther, and Eve. But what do we know of Asenath, Jehosheba, and Rizpah?
These women don’t have names that have crossed cultural boundaries over the centuries, appearing in English-language baby-name books. But they are worth noting for their contributions.
Asenath became the wife of Joseph after his rise to authority from captivity in Egypt. Historical references argue her origins, but she is known as the daughter of an Egyptian priest and the mother of Joseph’s two sons, Manasseh and Ephraim, who are included in the tribes of ancient Israel (Genesis 41:50).
Rizpah was a grieving mother who watched over the bodies of her slain and unburied sons, driving away scavenger birds and wild animals, and finally prompting the king to bury the men. It’s a lengthy and complex story, but her faithfulness and unwavering determination moved the king’s hand (2 Samuel 21:10).
Jehosheba was an aunt who paid attention to political intrigue in the palace. She spirited away her infant nephew and hid him for six years from those who wished him dead (2 Kings 11:2-3). In the line of kings, he himself became a king at the age of seven and faithfully ruled Judah for forty years.
What if these women had not stepped into the gap? Had not responded to the need or said the equivalent of “It’s not my problem”? Would history have been altered?
The New Testament also mentions remarkable women like Mary, Elizabeth, and Mary Magdalene. But have we considered Priscilla, Phoebe, Lydia, and Dorcus? Common everyday women who merely did their part caring for their families and others, contributing their talents and skills.
If you are a woman reading this post, don’t feel as if you can’t measure up to the History-Makers highlighted this month. Instead, remember that you have a purpose and God has a plan. Fame and recognition have nothing to do with it. It’s more important than that.
God sees you. And you are His precious daughter.
~
“You are the God who sees me.”
Genesis 16:13
God sees you.
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An Improper ProposalMae Ann left Cade to his chores and returned to the house. The garden had been abandoned because the men had not tended it, the women had, and they were gone—his sister and mother. The kitchen had fared somewhat better because men must eat. But the absence of a woman’s touch was evident in the spare larder and the limp, dusty curtains.
The window framed a perfect view of the neglected patch. Had Cade’s heart been left in similar condition after losing his mother, sister, and the—well, the woman Willa had mentioned?
An idea sparked in Mae Ann’s breast. A tiny flare that hinted at purpose. Could God use her to break through Cade’s wintered soil and stir life there again? Perhaps that was why she was here and not with—
No. God had not taken Henry’s life. She had to believe that.
As soft as the parson’s blessing had whispered earlier that morning, words she’d learned at her mother’s side rippled through her like a silken thread. All things work together for good to them that love God.
She did love God, but did she love Him enough? He’d allowed her mother to die penniless and abandoned by Mae Ann’s father, yet still the dear woman had insisted God was working all things together.
And He’d allowed Henry to be gunned down in cold blood—an act she would never understand. How did God plan to work that together? ~An Improper Proposal
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
#WesternRomance #ChristianFiction #FreeBook #HistoricalRomance #CowboyRomance
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February 25, 2024
Out of Control
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
A small natural disaster created a major inconvenience here a few years ago. On national radar it was a blip. Locally it was a rockslide.
Literally.
Seven thousand tons of rock slipped off the mountain and across U.S. Highway 50 like a broken string of beads. The 20-foot swath closed the two-lane road west of Cañon City for nearly a week. Commuters, tourists, and delivery trucks had to reroute more than 100 miles out of their way.
Twenty feet doesn’t seem like much, roughly the length of a modern living room. But when individual boulders are themselves 20 feet across, there’s no getting around the issue.
Road crews broke, blasted, and drilled the boulders into more manageable pieces before loading them into trucks. Three hundred truck loads later, traffic again flowed along the main artery that courses through Colorado’s Arkansas River canyon.
It doesn’t take much to stop our forward progress: a big rock, downsizing. A disabled refrigerator, a disabling illness. Rumors of war. Death.
How startling to discover that we are not in control after all.
How dare those rocks slide into our path. How dare our boss fire us. How dare we get sick now when we’re so busy.
How dare the carefully threaded beads of my life come tumbling down around my feet and roll away.
And how glad I am – truly – that it’s not all up to me.
Oh, God what would I do without You? Thank You for being bigger than anything that happens in my world and for having my eternal interest at heart. Amen.
I have told you all this
so that you may have peace in me.
Here on earth you will have
many trials and sorrows.
But take heart, because
I have overcome the world.
John 16:33
~
This post excerpted from my devotional book,
Always Before Me – 90 Story-Devotions for Women
~
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
#WesternRomance #ChristianFiction #FreeBook #HistoricalRomance #CowboyRomance
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February 18, 2024
On the Road to …
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
A friend of mine shared plans to participate in a spiritual retreat called Walk to Emmaus. As we visited about the weekend event, I prayed it would be one of personal revelation.
Personal revelation is exactly what happened in the gospel account of two men walking from Jerusalem to the village of Emmaus after the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. It’s an engaging story that you can find in Luke 24:13-35.
This journey has inspired not only event planners and Bible teachers, but also artists over the centuries. Possibly the most recognizable painting is “The Road to Emmaus” by Swiss landscape painter Robert Zund (1827-1909).
A similar work hangs in my home, depicting two men walking casually through an idyllic setting of colorful trees, flowers, and a flowing brook. The painting emits peace and perfection.
However, if you read Luke’s telling of the event, these men were anything but peaceful. Their trek took them down a path of necessity rather than leisure. I imagine the reality of their road was quite different, with rocks, and scrub brush, and dirt that worked into their sandals.
A road similar to life paths we all travel.
However, Jesus—alive and well—joined them. He walked with them. Met them where they were, so to speak.
We all walk a road—
to loneliness
to grief
to refuge
to hope
to commitment
to service
Jesus will meet us today on our road. We have the same opportunity as the two men on their way to Emmaus if we choose to listen, consider, and recognize His presence.
A line in a new *worship song has imbedded itself in my thoughts lately, and it plays over and over in my mind throughout the day:
“The God of our salvation is among us.”
And He is. He’s right here with us, on our own road.
Jesus answered and said to him,
“If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word;
and My Father will love him,
and We will come to him and
make Our home with him.
John 14:23
~
On the road to ...
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*Sing His Name – Listen here.
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
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(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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February 11, 2024
Wait
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
“No waiting on checkout aisle number three.”
I squeezed the red plastic handle of my shopping cart and held my ground. The frenzy around me resembled the Indy 500 at the drop of a green flag as shoppers rushed to be first in the new line so they didn’t have to … wait.
What is it about waiting that makes us so antsy?
Several years ago, I worked as a secretary for an agricultural chemical company in Northern Colorado. One morning a sales representative came into the office with his golden retriever. The man picked through the donut selection next to the coffee pot and laid one of the smooth, glazed pastries on the floor in front of his dog.
The retriever just sat there staring at the donut. He didn’t even sniff it.
“Why won’t he eat it?” I asked as saliva dripped from the dog’s clinched jaws.
“Because I haven’t told him to,” the salesman said.
To emphasize his point, he walked through the office and visited while the dog stared and drooled. At last he came back and quietly said, “Okay.”
The retriever inhaled the donut.
The salesman had trained his dog to eat only at his command. That way, he said, the dog could never be poisoned.
I wondered, does God do that with us?
Most often when He tells me to wait for something I want, I start drooling like the dog.
If He tells me to wait for His timing in a specific situation, I start revving my engine.
Does God want me to just stand there in the checkout line while the bag boy runs to get the can of green beans forgotten by the customer in front of me? Is there a character-building lesson going on?
Is there a reason for sitting with my foot on the brake at an eternally long traffic light? Other than safety?
Does God’s “wait” have a hidden motive behind it like the dog owner’s?
Perhaps waiting suppresses a me-first mentality, the I-want-it-now attitude. Maybe it jump-starts patience.
The word wait is verb, an action word. An intransitive* verb, but a verb nonetheless. It is not a do-nothing word and can serve as a command.
Psalm 37:7 directs us to “Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him.” This kind of wait encourages me to actively trust that God has a better grasp of the situation than I. It reminds me of the well-trained retriever.
I’m still progressing through the stages of Christian maturity and drooling over what I want. But I know the Lord has much greater things for me than a glazed donut. His timing is so much better than mine, and His command to wait has protected me from making so many poor—and dangerous—choices.
Thank God, I’m learning.
Wait is a verb.
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*In grammar, an intransitive verb is a verb whose context does not include a direct object (a who or what).
At the top of her hill, Eli killed his lights and engine. From the glove compartment he retrieved a mag light and his .45, then pulled the keys from the ignition.
Instinctively he crouched and ran to the end of the house, then slid along the wall to the northwest corner. He stopped. Listened. Waited. A board squeaked. He crossed his wrists, gun in his right hand, light in his left. Raising them together, he clicked the light as he stepped around the end and shouted,
“Stop!”
The light caught the prowler’s legs as he dove off the porch, rolled to his feet, and ran for the road.
Eli followed him to the head of the drive, where he pointed his gun into the ground beyond the pasture corner post and fired. The report echoed through the hills and silenced the crickets.
He waited a second time. Listened for footfalls on gravel road. Stumbling, running through brush.
Tight-fisted, the darkness held its peace, giving up only a solitary heartbeat. His own.
He stuck his gun in the back of his jeans and returned to the front porch.
“Laura. It’s me.”
Two beats. Three. “Eli?”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
Good girl. “Laura Bell, you ding—” ~The Miracle Tree E-book and audio.
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
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February 4, 2024
Hearts to You
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Do you have a Valentine? I believe we all do, whether we realize it or not. I’m not talking about someone to whom we’ve given our hearts in the romantic sense, but someone who epitomizes Christian love in our life.
Tradition says Valentine’s Day originated as a Christian Feast Day honoring a martyr named Valentine. You can read about it here. Over time, the day became a commercial celebration of romantic love, with the exchange of Valentine cards, candy, or flowers. Retailers love it.
Though we enjoy receiving such remembrances from our sweetheart, what about looking beyond our spouse, fiancé, or boyfriend/girlfriend to someone in our lives who has blessed us? What about writing a letter to them expressing appreciation for their acts of sharing God’s love through an encouraging word, a prayer, a smile, or a listening ear?
Okay, I can hear your arguments:
“But I’m not good at expressing my thoughts.”
“I’m not an emotionally-literate person.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I have terrible handwriting.”
Here are some suggestions for what you could say:
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for helping.”
“Thank you for listening.”
“Thank you for your prayers.”
“Thank you for your encouragement.”
As a public-school teacher, I always included letter-writing lessons, regardless of the grade level. You might be amazed to learn how many children (and adults) have no idea how to write a letter. Texting, PM-ing, emojis, and even email have robbed us of individual thought and effort. Greeting cards cheat us into simply signing our name at the bottom of a pithy or heart-tugging sentiment.
So here we go …
Use blank note paper or stationery. (If you must get a greeting card, find one that is blank on the inside.)
Use a pen or pencil.
Near the upper left-hand corner write: Dear (their name), or simply their name followed by a comma.
Below that, write out what you want to say, beginning on the left side of the paper.
Below that, about halfway across the page from left to right, sign your name.
You can use a closing in front of your name if you want, something like: Fondly, Warmly, Love, with appreciation …
Put the note in an envelope, address it (by hand), write your name and address in the upper left-hand corner, and affix a stamp in the upper right. (Don’t take offense here. Like I said, you’d be surprised by how many people don’t know how to write or send a personal letter.)
Our handwriting is as individual as our fingerprints, and I believe that is by God’s design. I can tell when someone has written to me or simply used a cursive font on the computer. It makes a difference in how I receive what has been sent.
If your hand trembles when you write, I encourage you to write anyway. If the recipient is someone who loves you, they will recognize your sincerity in your handwriting.
The act of writing with a pen or pencil, addressing an envelope, affixing a stamp, and mailing a thought to someone might mean more to them than you’d imagine.
You don’t have to say “Happy Valentine’s Day” unless you want to. It’s not about Valentine’s. It’s about you and someone who touched you in the Lord’s name.
Hearts to you.
And if you give even a cup of cold water
to one of the least of my followers,
you will surely be rewarded.
Matthew 10:42
~
E-book & AudioTurning left onto the county road, Laura pushed into the long straightaway, but changed her mind and slowed past the ranch entrance. A long wooden sign with an oak-tree silhouette and deep-cut letters hung above the gate: “Hawthorne Ranch.” A rider circled in the round pen near the barn, but only the top of his hat showed over the high railing. Had to be Eli.
She returned her attention to the road, threaded the S-curve, and stopped at the mailboxes to find hers empty. Disappointment elbowed out her earlier good mood. Nearly all her communication she handled online. Efficient and impersonal. But for some odd reason she longed for a letter, handwritten words on real stationery, folded and sealed in a hand-addressed envelope. Something that said she was worth the extra time and effort.
She’d seen her mother’s old love letters from Daddy. They seemed so much more personal than email and texts and instant messages.
But people didn’t write letters any more.
And besides, who would write to her? ~The Miracle Tree
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
#WesternRomance #ChristianFiction #FreeBook #HistoricalRomance #CowboyRomance
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January 28, 2024
Can I Hide From God?
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
When my youngest granddaughter plays hide-and-seek with her daddy, she sees things only from her perspective. She has no idea she’s giving away her whereabouts.
Perhaps in her innocence she reasons like the cartoon ostrich: “If I can’t see them, they can’t see me.”
How many of us as adults have tried the same thing, asking, “Where can I hide from God?”
Can we get so far away from Him that He won’t find us?
No.
Adam tried that and it didn’t work.
Elijah thought he’d sneak in undetected. That didn’t work either.
Balaam attempted a short cut and even his donkey had a thing or two to say.
David, the great shepherd-king and giant-killer wrote:
I can never escape from your Spirit!
I can never get away from your presence!
If I go up to heaven, you are there.
If I go down to the grave, you are there.
If I ride the wings of the morning,
if I dwell by the farthest oceans,
even there your hand will guide me,
and your strength will support me.
I could ask the darkness to hide me
and the light around me to become night–
but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.
Darkness and light are the same to you.
Psalm 139:7-12
Just because I can’t see God doesn’t mean He can’t see me.
I know hunters who have become disoriented in the dark of a moonless night and feared they might not survive.
In the black bowels of Colorado’s Cave of the Winds with the lights off, I couldn’t see my own hand. But God could.
Honestly, I’m glad.
I’m glad there’s nowhere I can go that He can’t find me.
I’m glad He sees me where I am and how I am, because He’s the only one who can pick me up, clean me off, and set me on my feet again.
Happy the day we stop hiding from Him and hide in Him instead.
~
Hide me in the shadow of Your wings. Psalm 17:8
Can I hide?
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Caleb hung the pitchfork on the wall and hauled in water from the hand pump. His new basin and pitcher rested on an upturned crate, and he washed his hands and face. He changed into his clean pants and shirt, thankful that he’d stopped by the barber’s the day before for a haircut.
If he wasn’t careful, gratitude might become a habit.
He reached for his Bible and found the passage he’d read last night by lamplight. Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
An honest question that Caleb hadn’t been willing to answer.
But he couldn’t hide from God forever. Not even in Cañon City at the edge of nowhere. It’d be a long winter if he kept running from the church folk in town, especially since he wanted to get a lot closer to one in particular. ~Loving the Horseman
Inspirational Western Romance – where the hero is heroic.
#lovingthecowboy
(c) 2024 Davalynn Spencer, all rights reserved.
#WesternRomance #ChristianFiction #FreeBook #HistoricalRomance #CowboyRomance
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January 21, 2024
Not One of Them Is Forgotten
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer
Sometimes we feel forgotten.
Unappreciated.
Overlooked.
Abandoned.
Unloved.
Alone.
But we’re not.
“Are not five sparrows sold
for two copper coins?
And not one of them is forgotten before God.
But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.
Do not fear, therefore;
you are of more value
than many sparrows.”
Luke 12:6-7
His eye is on the sparrow. It’s on us, too.
Don’t be afraid.
You're not forgotten.
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Cale looped the coil of rope over his shoulder again and pushed his hat off his brow. He smelled like horses, and Ella’s yearning grew. She’d been a fool to come West, into the heart of a country dependent upon the magnificent animals she’d once treasured and the men who rode them. Even more of a fool to accept Helen’s invitation to stay.
“Like I said before, you’ve got a way with horses. You’re at ease with both Doc and Barlow.” His voiced dropped. “But not with yourself.”
Ella jerked her head around. “How dare you presume. You know nothing about me.”
He studied the scarred mountain beyond her shoulder, a similar mark forming between his brows, then slowly met her glare. “You were white as new canvas that morning in town. My guess is, you once rode but you’re afraid to now. Is it because you think you can’t?”
Her breath stuck in her throat when he hit the mark, and his words reverberated through her like a clanging triangle. The man had no façade whatsoever. He was as open and uncomplicated as the country in which he lived.
Unwilling to expose her soul, her pain, her longing, she crossed her arms with a shudder. What would it be like to live as openly and bare-faced as he?
Again the clanging, only this time it was real, and he shoved his hat down and held out his hand. “Dinner’s on. We best be getting back.” ~A Change of Scenery
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