Rebecca H. Jamison's Blog, page 2

Why I Believe

Why would anyone believe in Jesus Christ? Plenty of people believe He was a great man, like Buddha or Muhammed. But why would people accept Him as the Savior of the World and the Son of God, as one who has power to resurrect the dead and redeem us from our sins (if there is such a thing as sin)? Why would I accept Him as my personal Savior, the Creator of the World, and the Great Jehovah?


All pictures are by Carl Bloch, whose works are in the public domain. I do realize that Jesus probably had a much darker skin tone, but I still enjoy the scenes from Christ's life that these paintings depict.
The first reason to accept Jesus Christ is because of the many witnesses who testify of Him. Since the world began, prophets spoke of a Messiah who would come to save us. The prophecies were so accurate that wise men could read the signs of His birth from the stars in the sky. Faithful Jews, like Matthew in the New Testament, could also recognize the fulfillment of prophecy in the various details of Jesus’s life. Others believed because of the miracles Jesus performed. They witnessed that Jesus turned water into wine, fed 5000 with a few loaves and fishes, healed the lame, caused the deaf to hear, cured the blind, and even raised the dead. After He was crucified, hundreds more witnessed that He was resurrected. Even in modern times, prophets witness of Jesus Christ. Joseph Smith saw and spoke with Him, as did Lorenzo Snow and other modern prophets. Though many have not shared their most sacred moments of communication with the Savior, all modern prophets have witnessed that He is the Christ, the head of His church, and that He is preparing to return and reign on the earth once more.



But what about us individually? Can we trust that the prophets are telling the truth? Jesus wanted us to have our own witness that He is the Christ. This is one of the reasons He sent the Holy Ghost. Christ said, “But when the Comforter is come, whom I will send unto you from the Father, even the Spirit of truth, which proceedeth from the father, he shall testify of me” (John 15: 26). The Holy Ghost testifies to all upon the earth that Jesus is the Christ. When we repent of our sins, the Holy Ghost sends us peace and comfort, testifying that our sins really are redeemed through the Savior of the world. When we learn about the Savior or hear His words, the Holy Ghost sends us feelings of joy and speaks peace to our minds. When we experience trials, the Holy Ghost comforts us, helping us to know that Jesus has borne our griefs and sorrows. When we lose a loved one, the Comforter provides peace and hope, whispering to our hearts that this life is not the end.

Another witness that I have of Jesus Christ has come from my commitment to follow Him. Although I have followed Jesus in my own imperfect way, making many mistakes, I have found that His teachings work. When I make a commitment to Him, He keeps his promises. When I serve as He did, I find the joy and peace He promises. When I choose to follow Christ’s example selflessness instead of the world’s selfishness, I am happier.


Part of the test of life is that we won’t know everything. We have to develop faith, which means we must believe even when we don’t have absolute proof. “Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). It is hard to explain how our faith can become evidence, but those who exercise faith soon come to see that Jesus blesses us after the trial of our faith. Jesus said, “If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth” (Mark 9:23).


On the whole, following Christ has helped me avoid a lot of troubles. However, Jesus doesn’t promise us enchanted, pain-free lives as a reward for our faith. Rather, He promises to support us through our trails. He says, “In the world, ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” I have found, through my tribulations, that Christ can give me peace and strength to deal with whatever happens.

What's In the Works

I'm writing another Jane Austen adaptation with my next book, and I am having so much fun with it. This time, I'm modernizing Northanger Abbey, and I'm giving it a Hitchcock twist. Right now, I'm on the second draft--revising, revising, revising.

I love the older Hitchcock movies, and it's been fun to play around with them in a not-so-scary way.


One of my rules for writing a satisfying retelling is to know which scenes are reader favorites. For example, I wouldn’t want to write a modern Persuasion without having a letter from Captain Wentworth at the end, nor would I want to skip Darcy’s insult to Elizabeth at the beginning of Pride and Prejudice. I plan to include as many favorite scenes as I can in this book, and I would love to know which scenes you like best in Northanger Abbey.One of my favorite scenes from the beginning of Northanger Abbey is when Henry Tilney compares dancing to marriage. It’s such a cute way for him to flirt with her, but it’s not so easy to translate into a modern setting. Nowadays, marriage proposals don’t happen quite as instantly, and men who talk about marriage on the first date would generally come across as creepy. I tried to find a balance by having my female character introduce the idea of marriage.Here’s my version of the scene:



“I’m still sorry about your phone. How can I make it up to you?”He traced the edge of my menu with his finger. “All I want is a half-hour of your time, and our friend Clayton has already stolen a good five minutes of it.”“He probably didn’t see it as stealing.”
He winked. “Well, he should have. It’s an accepted fact in the male world that when you ask a woman to lunch, you don’t want anyone else tagging along . A lunch date is a sacred contract between a man and woman.”
“You make it sound like marriage or something.” There I went again, speaking before I thought things through. My cheeks were probably flaming red by now.
He chuckled. Good thing he didn’t take me too seriously. “I wouldn’t go that far, but in some ways, it’s similar. We’ve entered into an agreement that we’ll spend the next half-hour with each other. You won’t be distracted by other men. I won’t be distracted by other women.”
“If that’s all it includes, I can keep my end of the bargain,” I said.
He reached out, tracing the tip of his finger over the top of my hand. “Well, there is a little more. We must put up with each other through sickness and health. For better or for worse. ‘Til dessert do we part.”
“Until dessert do we part,” I repeated.
Thank you for stopping by, and please let me know which parts of Northanger Abbey you like best. I’d also love to know if you have a favorite movie version. It seems most people prefer the 2007 version with Felicity Jones. That’s the one pictured at the beginning of this post. There’s also a Northanger Abbey from 1987. I enjoyed both movies. 

New: The Christmas Thief

A couple years ago, my seven-year-old asked me to write him a story for Christmas. The result was a 20-page story I called "The Christmas Thief." Since then, friends and family have requested that I publish it as a booklet. So here it is! You can preorder the e-book on Amazon.com here.

“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” –John 3:16
Though Jackson would never steal on purpose, his dad tricks him into taking packages from doorsteps. People leave the boxes out all the time, and it’s easy enough for his dad to sell what’s inside. They bring in enough money from the sales that Jackson can get fast food whenever he wants. Then one day, Jackson discovers something inside a package that he doesn’t want to sell. His efforts to understand his new treasure will forever change his life.Meant to be enjoyed by all ages, this short Christmas story will steal your heart and remind you of the reason behind the season. 

Operation Underground Railroad

I've heard many times that slavery still exists in the world, but I've only recently realized how big the problem is. Some estimates place the number of enslaved people at around thirty million. Many of these are children, who've been sold for sex. Many of these children live in my country, the United States.
I want to do something about this enormous problem, so I've decided to donate all the proceeds from my book sales for the rest of 2018 to Operation Underground Railroad, an organization that has rescued 1500 children from human trafficking in the past four years and has put 570 traffickers behind bars.
If you'd like to know more about Operation Underground Railroad, please see their website: https://ourrescue.org/

Sending Rainbows

Photo from Eric Rolph at English WickipediaI was twenty-six when I met Anita, who was a breast cancer survivor. She had a daughter the same age as mine, a miracle baby born after aggressive chemotherapy treatments that normally rob women of any hope for children. We were also the same age, something I hadn’t expected. Because of the cancer, I’d assumed Anita was older than I was, not that she looked older.

We soon became friends, mostly talking about our daughters or decorating or clothes. I was frequently overwhelmed with being a stay-at-home mom, living far away from my extended family. Anita always reminded me to be grateful I was alive to raise my children. Anita’s reminders helped me so much during the sleepless nights and tired days of raising a baby and a toddler.

We both wondered about the possibility of death and whether there really is a life after death. During this time, Anita lost two of her good friends—the only other women in the state who were in their twenties and had breast cancer. Of course, she worried that the disease would take her as well, but she drew inspiration from the faith of her friends.

One of her friends, also a mother, made scrapbooks and wrote letters for her children before she died. She prepared her children for her death by telling them that whenever they saw a rainbow to remember that she was up in heaven watching them. When this friend passed away in the hospital on a stormy day, her family looked out the hospital window to see a big, beautiful rainbow spreading across the sky. Her family knew it was a sign that life goes on after death and that she was closer than it sometimes seems. This story really touched Anita and she told it to me at least three times during the many times I visited her.

Soon after this, Anita found a lump in her lymph gland, and had to endure weeks of uncertainty while she waited for the test results. During this time, I tried to reassure her that it might not be as bad as she feared. Maybe she would hear good news.

Unfortunately, the news was as bad as she feared. She ended up having to go through another round of aggressive cancer treatments.  Our congregation rallied around her family, providing as much support as we could. Still, she and her family suffered, even with all the prayers and meals and babysitting we could provide. I tried to be as much a part of the service as I could.

Anita was different after the second set of treatments. She was weaker and still hopeful, but more inclined to prepare for the worst. She and her husband tried to live life to its fullest, taking their dream vacation and saving for a nicer home. They moved from our neighborhood, but Anita still kept in touch with me. I kept praying for her, that she could stay free from the cancer.

Over the next few years, I heard mixed news about Anita. Sometimes I’d hear she was doing well. Other times, I’d hear that the cancer had spread. Finally, I heard that her cancer had spread to her brain, and we all knew that the end was near.

One day, I turned on the TV. I didn't usually watch the news, but I watched it that day. It was February. The weatherman said that there were rainbows all over Utah that day. He said that it was really unusual for there to be rainbows in the winter. I stared at the TV, trying to remember ever seeing a rainbow in February. I couldn’t recall that ever happening before.

The next day, I found out that Anita had died. I really believe that the rainbows were a compensating blessing from Heavenly Father. He didn’t give her what she prayed for and wanted most—to live to raise her daughter. So he answered another prayer for her. He sent rainbows to remind her family that her death was not the end. Her spirit still lives, and they will see her again.

The Parable of the Self-Conscious Chorister

 I’ve been my church chorister for a year now. Though I’ve enjoyed getting to know the people in the choir and choosing the music to sing, I’ve struggled to enjoy being the one who leads. I am not a singer, and I’ve always felt inadequate when it comes to my musical abilities. There are so many people who are better than I am at playing the piano, and I’m sure that at least fifty percent of the population is better than I am at singing.

I don’t have a great musical ear, so it takes all my concentration to get my lines right. Often, after we’ve gone through a song, the members of the choir will ask me how they did. I will answer, “I don’t know. I was just trying to sing the notes.”
Other times, I have realized that I sung some measures particularly poorly. The members of the choir have seen me make a face and assumed that they had sung poorly.
This phenomenon has made me realize that in order to be a good chorister, I have to forget about my own voice and focus on other people’s voices. My role as a chorister is to be a cheerleader and coach, helping everyone stay together and sing their best. I can’t do that if I’m only focused on myself.
To me, this is a metaphor for life. When I am interacting with people, they want all my attention. If I focus on my own inadequacies, people may view my pained expressions and assume that I find them inadequate, or they may see my preoccupied expression and assume I don’t care about them.
My father had a rule he lived by, which he called the Latimer Law of Reciprocity. He told me that I shouldn’t worry so much whether a particular person liked me. I should worry whether I liked that person. Usually, if someone sees that you like them, they will like you in return.
I believe that Jesus was also teaching about this selfless way of serving others when he said, “He that findeth his life shall lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.”

Sneak Peek at "Unforgettable"

I'm happy to announce that Unforgettable is now available. I've included the first chapter below:
Fogo Island was on fire. Her home, her entire world, would soon be entombed in molten rock. Smoke billowed out from the volcano’s cone, and red lava exploded upward in jets, crashing back down to the earth in flaming balls. Peering past the old mango tree, she saw lava flowing down the hill toward the houses and shops that dotted her island village. Flames already engulfed the sports stadium, and hot, black ooze had swallowed some of their neighbors’ homes.
To the news crews, their little cinderblock houses might have appeared poor and inadequate. No one in the village had running water, and only a few had electricity, but their homes had always been enough for them.
Celia placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “We have to leave the house.” Government officials had ordered them to evacuate a few days earlier. She was supposed to be at a neighboring village right now. It’s where she had been yesterday and this morning. After dragging their two foam mattresses, the card table, and their two folding chairs to the evacuation site, she had dragged her mother there as well. But this morning, when she awoke, her mother’s mattress lay empty.
Panicking, Celia had run for an hour, taking paths known only by villagers, to where she suspected her mother would be, back at their house. Sure enough, Mama was here, trying to water the old mango tree with an empty bucket. Celia gulped air filled with the stench of rotten eggs and pulled on Mama’s arm, but Mama pushed her away. Though Celia was full grown at eighteen, Mama was still taller and stronger, and now out-of-her-mind crazy.
Celia would have to reason with her, and there wasn’t much time. “Mama,” she cried, choking from the taste of sulfur in her throat. “Do you want us to burn alive?” Powerless to stop the surge of living rock, she listened to the lava crackle and hiss as it rolled toward them. Though it only advanced a few meters per hour, it had already reached the edge of their property. Within minutes, it would set fire to the beautiful trees they had nurtured since her childhood.
Their village lay within the ancient crater far below the volcano’s newer cone. She had seen reporters observing the damage from the rim of the crater a few days before, but today, with all the smoke in the air, she couldn’t see as far as the rim.
Her mother stared at her with empty eyes, as if she spoke and walked in her sleep. “We can’t leave the crops,” she said, sounding so calm, “It’s good, black soil here.”
Just two weeks before, when the earth first started trembling, her mother had been perfectly normal, preparing a new batch of crocheted doilies to sell to the tourists who came to hike the volcano. She’d always handled tragedy well. Even when Celia’s baby sister died eight years earlier, she had stayed strong. Then, yesterday morning, standing along the rim and watching the sports stadium burn, she’d snapped. She started talking about Celia’s father as if he were still living with them, as if he hadn’t left, never to return. Celia had taken her to the doctor, who told them Mama needed to get away to a more peaceful place. That was easy to say; harder to do. It meant they needed money.
Celia pulled harder on her mother’s arm. “Mama, this is worse than the other eruptions. Half the village is already lost. We won’t be able to save the mango trees.”
Her mother twisted free. “These trees need water. They haven’t had water in over a week!” She picked up a broken branch from the ground and held it threateningly over her head.
Celia backed away. She wished Manny were here to help. He would throw her mother over his shoulder and haul her over the hill to safety. “You may want to die for these trees, Mama,” she yelled, “but I’m not going to stay here and wait for the lava to swallow me whole.”
Celia turned and marched twenty steps in the other direction, hoping Mama would follow, but her trick hadn’t worked. Instead of following, Mama held tight to the mango tree.
Celia couldn’t leave her.
This was the woman who had sung her lullabies and taught her to sew. This was the woman who worked on the road crew to provide her with food and clothing. This was the mother who never, ever sent her to school with a wrinkly dress or a dirty face. Now Mama hugged her favorite tree, her face smashed against the trunk, sobbing. Whether this mental illness was temporary or permanent, Celia would not abandon her own mother.
Barely five meters up the hill from the mango tree, lava crept forward. A scraggly bush burst into flames. Celia wiped the sweat from her face. It was getting hotter, maybe too hot for a person to survive.
Behind her, something squealed. She turned to see a little black pig, hobbling toward her. Someone had tied a rope around its neck and weighed it down with a cinderblock. Probably it belonged to one of the evacuees, who had tied it up to keep it from danger. So much for that plan. “Where did you come from, poor thing?” Celia asked the pig, kneeling down to untie the rope from its neck. “Mama, we need to take this pig down to the city and find its owner.”
Her mother didn’t respond. She just kept hugging the tree, as if it were an actual person, more important than her own daughter.
Once she finished untying the knot, Celia flapped her hands. “Shoo, pig.”
The pig, unlike her mother, was wise enough to obey. It ran down the slope of the hill, farther and farther from the approaching lava.
Celia knelt down and took her mother’s face in her hands. “We have a lot to live for, Mama. We can build another house down lower in the city.”
Time was running out. As the lava gained on them, a grape vine on the other side of the tree caught fire, and Celia grew desperate. If she hit her mother over the head with a tree branch, knocking her out, she could drag her away before the lava reached them. It might be the only way to save her life. But she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t hit her mama.
The lava rolled ever closer—just a few steps away now. So close that the heat burned Celia’s skin. How could Mama not feel that?
“I’m sorry, Mama,” she said in her softest voice. “I’m sorry about the volcano.” Then seeing the far-off look in Mama’s eye, she had one more idea. Her hands shook as she pointed in the direction of the closest hill. “I think you’ve watered this tree enough. We have more trees to water on the other side of the hill. They’re all gonna die if we don’t water them. We’ve got to hurry!”
Her mother stared at her for a moment. Then, like a bird answering a distant cry from her flock, Mama raced out of their burning orchard, carrying her bucket with her. Celia followed. She didn’t look back to watch the lava roll through the front door of the only home she had ever known.
Copies are available at Amazon.com.

Coming May 1, 2018: Unforgettable

I'm excited to announce that my book is ready for release. You can already get the paperback, and the e-book will be ready on Tuesday, May 1! Click here to buy on Amazon.com.

As teenagers, Celia and Manny plan their future together in the branches of a mango tree. Soon afterward, Manny leaves Fogo Island for college, expecting to marry Celia and take her to America once he graduates. However, during Manny’s schooling, the volcano near Celia’s village erupts, burying her home.
They lose contact with each other, and Celia comes to believe that Manny has fallen in love with someone else. When their lives intersect again, too much has changed for their plans to ever become a reality, yet the promises they made and the desires of their hearts persist, becoming unforgettable.
An immigrant love story written in the vein of Safe Haven, Unforgettable reveals a world singing with passion and possibility.

Coming Spring 2018: Unforgettable

As teenagers, Celia and Manny plan their future together in the branches of a mango tree. Soon afterward, Manny leaves Fogo Island for college, expecting to marry Celia and take her to America once he graduates. However, during Manny’s schooling, the volcano near Celia’s village erupts, burying her home.
They lose contact with each other, and Celia comes to believe that Manny has fallen in love with someone else. When their lives intersect again, too much has changed for their plans to ever become a reality, yet the promises they made and the desires of their hearts persist, becoming unforgettable.
An immigrant love story written in the vein of Safe Haven, Unforgettable reveals a world singing with passion and possibility.

How to Support your Spouse through Unemployment

Thanks Rachael Nelson for this picture.[I wrote this post a few years ago for FamilyShare. Now that they're discontinuing their website, I wanted to share it here on my own blog. This is actually something that happened a long time ago, so don't worry. My husband is employed right now.]My husband came home from work, looking discouraged and asked me to sit down. “Today I got laid off,” he said. I couldn’t believe this had happened to us. I was scared about how we were going to pay the bills and worried about how my husband could find another job in a difficult economy.Today, you may be facing the same fears I faced as you support your spouse through unemployment. Your attitude throughout the job hunt can make a huge difference in the strength of your marriage and in your spouse’s success in finding a new job. Here are some tips:Stay positiveLike me, your first reaction may be to worry about finances. Of course, the budget is something you’ll need to discuss, but first, set aside your worries and show some sympathy. Do something special together and have faith that your spouse will be able to find another job.NetworkUnemployed people often feel inferior and want to hide the fact that they’re unemployed. Most of the time, the best strategy for finding a new job is to do the exact opposite. Let friends, family, coworkers, and neighbors know that your talented spouse is looking for a job. Brag about your spouse’s abilities on social networking sites, asking your friends to be on the lookout for openings.Focus on the job huntThis is not a time to remodel the kitchen or build a deck. Your spouse will need to spend full-time hours looking for a job. With the amount of competition in the job market right now, most people need to apply for hundreds of jobs and interview with several dozen companies before landing a position.Be a cheerleader, not a coachSome wives and husbands make the mistake of coaching their unemployed spouses through the job hunt. For example, they may expect a report of each day’s activities or give lots of advice. Eventually, this will strain your marriage. Leave the coaching to someone else, and be a cheerleader instead. Smile, show physical affection, spend time together, enjoy inexpensive activities, and compliment your spouse often.Cut back on unnecessary expensesObviously, you’ll need to scale back on some of your spending. This can be hard if you like to shop to relieve stress. Make a list of some things you can do to relax that don’t involve spending money. You might like to:
Go for a walk.Take a bubble bath.Check out your local library.Volunteer to help someone who’s less fortunate.Try a new recipe.AdvertisementWhen it starts to get oldIt may take months or more to find a job. If this happens to your spouse, you may need to rededicate yourselves to positive thinking:
Find uplifting quotes to post around your home.Listen to motivational speakers on audio files or find their books at the library.Make a list of all you have to be grateful for.Play music that makes you happy.Take a few minutes to enjoy the beauty of nature.If your spouse seems unusually hopeless, consult a doctor or therapist for help. This may also be a good time to change your job hunting strategy.Be open to new possibilitiesFinding a job for your spouse may mean changes to your lifestyle. You may need to relocate, live on a lower income, or adjust your schedule. Be as flexible as you can, but make sure you address any concerns with your spouse.The future is bright
Rest assured that with effort, your spouse will eventually find a job. In the meantime, remember that marriage is about more than careers. You might have even promised to love each other whether you’re richer or poorer — in sickness or in health.