Through an Author's Eyes - Part 11

 Good morning and happy Friday!

I hope you have had a good week. I have. It's been a bit crazy at times. We didn't end up babysitting my nieces and nephews last Friday after all because my youngest niece (22 months) got sick in the night. On Sunday I taught Children's Church, and then had choir practice afterwards.
Tuesday was the crazy day. In the morning I built another cube shelf for the sewing room. Then in the afternoon I was able to get 500 words written before all the nieces and nephews came over. We had to eat supper early because my two oldest nephews had basket ball practice. Oh, and my sister's last shelf for her fabric, and the last shelves for our bookcases came while we were eating. And we celebrated my middle niece's birthday. Yeah, it was rather crazy. But fun.

Busters (nickname for my 4-y-old nephew) loves to look in our paper recycle box and find envelopes that haven't been opened or ones that haven't been used, and invoices. And anything else he find interesting. He'll take them home to use for whatever he decides. Anyway, he had been finding "treasures" and after cleaning everything else up he came to me with an ad for shoes. "BehBeh," he says, "this needs to get recycled. It's just junk. It's not good for anything!" :D

Goosey-girl (nickname for 22 month niece) is funny. Suddenly, when I was holding her, she pulled her hands into her sleeves, bent her arms and started flapping them while saying, "Quack! Quack! Quack!" I asked her if she was a duck, and she grinned and said, "Yeah." Then she did more flapping and quacking. I wish I had a video of it.

On the writing front things have been going well. Over 2k on Monday, and while I only got 500 words on Tuesday, I have since gotten at least 1k or more the other days. My goal for this month was to finish my secret project and write 20k. Well, Secret Project is finished (not edited or anything), and I've written 25k words. I've been working on Lawrence & Lenexa this week and it's so nice to get back into it. I'm starting to get tiny glimpses of why Mrs. Johnson acts like she does. We'll see what happens.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next part of this story.

 

Through an Author's Eyes

Part 11

 

    After a nap and a leisurely stroll down the lane, Annette, though she still felt stiff and sore, could move about with more ease and no longer dreaded the stairs. Sunday supper at the ranch was a relaxed affair. And then everyone gathered in the living room and listened to the latest story Uncle Cleveland had written. Or at least the latest installment.
    “I get my best critics from my own family,” he laughed to Annette. “I’ve tossed entire chapters because they declared they were too something or other. And would you believe it, they want things to be real.”
    “You mean they don’t think kidnapping and bad guys escaping from jail, killers on the loose and people with dark pasts they are trying to hide are everyday happenings?” Annette pretended to be shocked as she settled herself in the corner of the couch.
    Uncle Cleveland laughed. “Nope. Did you bring your story down?”
    Somewhat startled, Annette shook her head. “No . . . Was I supposed to?”
    “If you want to run it through the gauntlet of the Ranch Mill. If it passes them, it’ll pass your readers.”
    “I don’t think my story is ready to be read yet,” she began slowly. “It’s still rather new and Kate hasn’t even woken up to realize how sore she is from her ride. Actually, she isn’t even done with her ride yet. I kind of left her . . .” She shrugged sheepishly.
    “Maybe another time,” Aunt Yvonne suggested. “We’d love to hear it.”
    “Would I have to read it aloud?” Annette watched Levi and Vic who had just come in from finishing up some chores, find seats and stretch their legs out in preparation for the coming story. “I don’t read aloud very well unless it’s a children’s picture book.”
    “I’ll read it!” Savanna offered. “I’m longing to read those descriptions you wrote.”
    Since everyone had arrived, Uncle Cleveland cleared his throat, a habit Annette was to discover happened any time he read his own work, and began. It was a fascinating story and Annette was soon lost in the tale of two brothers who set out to prove to their wealthy father that they could be happy without money and fame. When the short story was over, the comments began. Annette listened in silence wondering if she would dare to show her little story to this group of critics. No one said anything really bad, but there were a lot of discussions and some suggestions. She would wait and see what her story was like in another week. After she’d had more time to write.

    “Just how do you expect me to get back on that horse and ride when I’m still having trouble walking right?” Annette demanded of Levi, folding her arms and staring at her cousin.
    Settling the saddle on the back of Mouse, Levi turned his head briefly and glanced at her. “The way you’ve been doing it. Put one foot in the stirrup and swing up.”
    “I’d like to see you do it,” she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched with the smile she was trying to hold back.
    Levi didn’t reply but handed the reins to Annette and said, “Take her to the pasture gate.”
    Suspicion clouded her mind and she looked narrowly at her cousin. What was he up to? She always rode in the ring except when she went on a trail ride Saturday and paid the price. But Levi had disappeared back into the tack room and Mouse gave her a nudge as though suggesting they follow directions.
    Walking out to the gate, Annette surveyed the lovely scene around her. She couldn’t see any cattle as they were farther from the house, but even so the landscape with it’s rolling hills and green fields made her want to run through the grasses and wander among the hills to the foot of the towering mountains.
    “Ready?” A voice beside her brought her mind back with a start.
    When she turned, she saw Levi mounted on his favorite horse. “What . . . Where are we going?” she asked making no move to climb aboard her trusty steed.
    “Just out to check the cattle and the fence on the south slope. We’ll ride easy.” When she hesitated, he added, “You did want to learn about ranching, didn’t you?”
    “Yeah. I think anyway.”
    “Then mount up and let’s get going. The day’s awaisting. You’ll be back in time for lunch so stop worrying.”
    Feeling her muscles scream in protest, Annette climbed somewhat stiffly into the saddle and gave a sigh. “There should be some easier way to learn to ride a horse.”
    Levi chuckled. “There is.”
    “How?”
    “You can start riding a horse as soon as your old enough to sit up, or,” he added when she grunted, “you can take a long time and ride a little here and a little there. Eventually you’ll get used to the saddle and won’t be sore.”
    “But I don’t have lots of time.”
    “Exactly.”
    The ride proved to be a pleasant one even if her muscles were still not pleased with being used again. Levi had her dismount and mount several times as they checked the fence. At one time she even helped him fix one of the strands of wire that was loose. Well, she at least helped somewhat. She felt like she wasn’t doing any good, but Levi was a patient teacher and before long the wire was tightened and they were riding on again.
    “Levi,” Annette asked after they had ridden some time in silence, “Do you always want to be a rancher?”

How was your week?

Would you rather have one crazy day or several busy days?

Would you be willing to have your unfinished story read aloud for comments?

Snowy Adventure - Part 3

 Good morning, faithful Friday fiction fans,

It's cold this morning. As in 7º F cold. (That's -14º C in case you were wondering.) No snow. That came last Saturday, stuck around Sunday, and was gone on Monday. It was in the 50s Tuesday, then in the 20s on Wednesday with a bitterly cold windchill. Yesterday was sunny but never got much beyond 21º. Today it is supposed to get just above freezing.

This week has been another good one for writing. Not only have I already gotten 6k written, I'm almost to the end of my secret story. Even though I had to rearrange the last 6k words because I realized the scenes weren't in the right order, I managed to write almost 2k yesterday. I'm really hoping I can reach the end today, but my nieces and nephews are coming over this evening, so I'll have to write at a different time. We'll see what happens. I still need to clean the house. (Do any of you clean your house on Fridays?) And wrap some presents for my niece who is turning 7 today. My sister is going to make a large cookie for dessert.

I also need to do a few more things, but we'll see how much time I have. I know this is short. I guess I just don't have a lot to say right now. Enjoy the last part of this story! I still think it needs a little more in the middle of this part, but I didn't have a chance to write it.

Snowy Adventure

Part 3

 

    “Well, I was just exploring, and trying to find one of those old cabins you mentioned,” Coral tried to explain. “I saw one up there,” and she gestured with the flashlight to a nearby cliff, “but I slipped and kind of hurt my leg, so I thought I’d just sit here and read.”
    “Didn’t you realize no one knew where you were? You caused quite a lot of worry, young lady.” Micah’s voice was stern. “You should have been heading back to the lodge not sitting here reading. I–”
    The radio crackled to life.
    “Micah, can you read me? Come in, Micah.”
    Snatching the radio, Micah let out a sigh. “I read you, Isaiah. I’ve found her. We’ll be heading back. She’s okay.”
    “Glad to hear it. I’ll let the team know.”
    “Thanks. Let my wife know too, please.”
    “Will do. Over and out.”
    Micah silently replaced his radio. “Come on, Coral, let’s head back.”
    Without a word, Coral unzipped her coat and put her book and flashlight in the inner pocket and then zipped her coat shut again. “I’m sorry, Micah,” she whispered. “I wanted to go back, but I couldn’t. My leg hurt too much and I–”
    It was only then that Micah realized his sister had mentioned hurting her leg. “Which one?” His voice became less stern.
    “My right one. I can’t stand on it, Micah, I tried.” Tears filled Coral’s eyes and one spilled down her cheek.
    Crouching down, Micah gently felt the injured leg. It was hard to tell if it was broken or only sprained under the layers of clothes. “Where does it hurt?”
    “My knee. My ankle, and between. I’m not sure exactly except that it all hurts when I tried to walk.”
    “Can you bend you knee?”
    Gingerly Coral did so. “Yeah. Some.”
    Micah pressed a little more firmly on her leg, trying to discover the extent of her injury without resorting to exposing her leg to the cold and snow.
    “Ow!”
    “Sorry, Pink.” Sliding off his pack, Micah quickly pulled two splints and a bandage. “This may not be the most medically correct way to treat an injury like this,” he remarked. “But it will have to do. There’s a storm coming and we need to get back to the lodge before it hits. Are you cold?”
    With her lips pressed tightly together to keep back any cries of pain, Coral shrugged.
    “I’ll take that as a yes. You’ve been sitting here long enough to catch cold if not worse.” He pulled out the emergency blanket and a hot pack which he broke and unzipping his sister’s coat, he slipped the pack inside the front.
    “Why didn’t you come home with Candle?” Micah asked after he had wrapped the emergency blanket around her and then shouldered his pack again. “She’d been back an hour before anyone realized you weren’t back.”
    “I wanted a vacation too.”
    “A vacation?” Micah echoed. “Here, put your arm around my neck so I can pick you up. Did you bring any food along because I’m sure you weren’t this heavy this morning.”
    Coral gave a half giggle. “You wouldn’t know, you didn’t pick me up.”
    “No, but I did the day you arrived.” After calling Candle who was sniffing around a few yards away, Micah started down the slope with his sister in his arms. “Now, what was that about wanting a vacation?”

*

    Coral lay on the couch with her right leg resting on a pillow, the bright pink cast was covered with signatures and little pictures. She looked at it and gave a little sigh. It had been a long night. By the time she and Micah had reached the edge of the trees the snow had become thick and heavy and had it not been for Candle’s ability to find her way, things could have been different for the lodge was not visible in the snow.
    Then there had been the trip to the hospital in Micah’s truck with the snowplow on the front as soon as the storm had stopped at midnight. Her leg had been broken, just a simple break for which she was very thankful, and a strained knee and ankle. The doctor had advised her to only try for one injury next time not three on the same leg.
    Mom and Dad had talked with her about going out by herself but agreed that being laid up with a broken leg was punishment enough.
    Now she resting at the lodge. Everyone else but Grandma who was taking a nap, and Grandpa who was working a cross-word in the other room–if he hadn’t fallen asleep–were outside in the new snow. Giving another sigh, Coral laid down her book and frowned. She could read all she wanted now, and wasn’t asked to help in the kitchen or play with the younger ones. But somehow she wasn’t interested in reading. She missed being wanted and needed.
    A cold nose touched her hand and Coral smiled as she gently stroked Candle’s head. “I’m sorry, Candle,” she said softly, “I should have listened when you wanted to go back to the lodge. You were a lot smarter than I was. Thank you for finding me.”
    She looked up and saw her big brother. “And thank you too, Micah. I don’t think I’ll like the snow quite as much after this.”
    “Oh, I don’t know,” Micah said, pulling up a chair and sitting down. “You can enjoy the snow just as much; it’s the exploring on your own you need to be cautious about.” He grinned. “But that cast should keep you from too much mischief. For six weeks at least.”
    Coral wrinkled her nose at him.
 

When do you clean your house?

Do you think this story needs a little more?

Have you ever felt like Coral in wanting a vacation during a vacation?

Snowy Adventure - Part 2

 Good morning and happy Friday!

I hope you all have been having a good week. I have. It's been a week of words. No, I haven't talked all week. ;) But I've read, I've helped move and shelf, and rearrange, and sort books, books, and more books. And I've written! On Monday morning a new story idea just hit me out of the blue. I have no idea where the plot came from, but I couldn't get away from it. So I did what most sensible writers who have stacks of unfinished stories do. I wrote the idea down. Only I shared it with a few people who begged for the story. No. I am not going to write this story until I get some other stories finished. That's final. Until that evening. I'd been working on another story (shall remain unmentioned for now) and after getting over 1k written on it, I did decide to write the first scene of the new story since it was already created in my mind. 317 words got written. And the story left me alone on Tuesday. On Wednesday it came tiptoeing back and begging me to write just a little more. So, once again, after I'd written my 1k+ on the other story, I wrote just a bit more. About 100 words this time. And so far, this story has been pretty content to wait. Thankfully! But in spite of being interrupted by this new story, I've managed to get 6k written already. (My goal was 5k for the week.) And I'm hoping I can get 2k more between today and tomorrow.

That's pretty much been my week. I have also gotten to get outside and walk several days this week. So nice! There's chance of snow here tomorrow. We'll see what actually happens. 

Well, this is a bit late, but here's the next part of this story. Enjoy!

 

 Snowy Adventure

Part 2

 

    Micah glanced outside and then looked at his wife. “Call Isaiah, would you? Let him know we may need a search and rescue team. I’ll go out with Candle and maybe we can find Coral without help, but just in case–” He let his sentence die unfinished.
    His wife knew what he meant.
    “And Beth, let the adults know, but don’t let any of them go outside! Tell them to pray. Not one of them is used to this kind of snow.”
    Bethany nodded.
    Having worked as a volunteer with the local search and rescue team for the past two winters, it didn’t take Micah long to get ready. He had his rescue pack that contained a first-aid kit, hot packs, a blanket, matches, and more.
    Just before he stepped outside, Dad came in, his face worried. “Let one of us go with you, Micah.”
    “Sorry Dad. No. None of you are experienced in the snow and it would only slow me down. I have Candle, and I’m hoping she’ll be able to find Coral quickly. You stay here and pray that the snow stops. Oh, and you could check the vehicles just to make sure she’s not hiding in one of them reading.” He smiled slightly trying to ease the worry he knew his dad was feeling.
    Dad nodded and stood silently by as Micah and Candle slipped out into the white world.
    Remembering that he’d seen his younger sister behind the lodge, Micah turned his steps that way. “Come on, Candle. Find Coral. Where did she go?”
    Candle barked and raced around the lodge as though knowing where she was going.
    Micah followed. It was rather easy to follow Coral’s tracks across the open field at first, but the snow continued to fall and the wind was picking up. Time was of an essence. Tipping his head back slightly, Micah squinted into the flakes. They seemed as fine as the grains of sand in an hourglass. “Dear Father,” he prayed aloud, “would You stop the snow for a time? Turn the hourglass on its side and let me find Coral. Please, Father.”
    A crackling noise made Micah reach for the radio he used during rescue missions.
    “Micah, can you read me?”
    “Loud and clear, Isaiah.”
    “The team is standing by. What’s your plan?”
    “Following Coral’s tracks now. If the snow doesn’t stop tracks will be covered and it will be guess work if Candle can’t find her. I’ll give you an update in fifteen.”
    “Roger that. Ten sixty-five.”
    Clipping the radio back to his pack, Micah checked the time on his watch and frowned. If Candle had been let in an hour ago, there was no telling how long Coral had been separated from her. “She’s heading toward the trees.”
    A few minutes later he reached the trees and found to his relief that the snow hadn’t covered her tracks yet.
    “Coral!” His shout seemed to disappear into the silent woods.
    No answer came.
    “All right, Candle,” Micah said, “let’s go find her.”
    Candle started forward, sinking now and then into softer snow but still pressing forward.
    “Pink!” Micah shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. Still no answer.
    When a quarter of an hour had passed, Micah reported to Isaiah and asked about the weather forecast.
    “Temperatures are supposed to start dropping in a few hours. Five to ten inches of snow expected before tomorrow.”
    That was not what Micah wanted to hear.
    “Do you want the team out?”
    Micah scanned the woods. “No, I can still see her tracks. If the snow doesn’t get any heavier I think I can still follow them.”
    “All right. Report in another fifteen.”
    “Roger that.”
    The tracks began to go uphill and Micah prayed she hadn’t gone far. “Coral!” He tried the nickname he’d used since she was a baby. “Pink!”
    Suddenly, Candle let out a bark and her tail began to wave.
    “Pink!” Micah shouted pushing back his wool hat so he could hear better.
    A faint sound from somewhere to his left but higher up, made Micah turn his head and scan the snowy woods. He couldn’t see anything. “Find her, Candle. Go to Coral!”
    The dog, as though released from an invisible leash, left the tracks and plunged into the unmarked whiteness; her master following. Over fallen logs, through brambles and thorns, around towering pines, Candle went. Her tail waving and her tongue hanging partway from her mouth.
    “Coral!” Micah shouted again.
    This time he could hear her voice. “Here!”
    “Stay there. I’m coming!”
    It took ten minutes for the searching dog to reach the girl. Candle began to bark and whine until Micah joined them.
    “Pink, what were you doing?” Micah asked, seeing his sister sitting beside a pile of snow covered branches under the overhand of a large rock with a book in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

What do you do when a new story idea hits?

How was your week?

Would you go and read in the snow?

Snowy Adventure - Part 1

 Good morning!

Yes, this is late. We slept in and I'm just now getting to the computer. My sister has the nasty cold that I had last week. Prayers that she'll be well enough to go to church on Sunday would be greatly appreciated. 

This week has been good. I've felt like I've had a productive week. I have actually written every day since Monday! The last time I wrote 4 days in a row was the beginning of September when I was finishing up the 100-for-100 challenge. I've also helped get books on our new bookshelves in the hall! It's actually starting to look like our hall with books on shelves. Well, sort of. We've never had white shelves and finished walls and floors before.

Anyway, I'm keeping this short as I have other things I need to do before breakfast so I can clean the house after breakfast. It needs it! I hope you enjoy the first part of this story. Since we got snow yesterday, it just seemed to be the right story.

 Snowy Adventure

Part 1

    Coral Williams stepped from the door of the lodge her family was staying in and grinned. There was snow everywhere. Since she was from Alabama, snow was a novelty to her and she didn’t want to miss a chance to get out in the cold white stuff.
    Something brushed against her leg and she looked down at the golden retriever who had followed her outside. “Hello, Candle. Did you want to play in the snow with me?”
    The dog wagged her tail and panted.
    “Then come on.” And Coral left the porch and started off across the snowy yard. Since the front was well trampled from the family’s time outside yesterday building snowmen and forts, having snowball fights, and writing messages with sticks, Coral made her way around to the back of the lodge. Here the land was open in a large field of white until it reached the forest sheltered by snow laden branches.
    The mountain’s dark rocky wall, which offered shelter to the lodge, stood out in sharp contrast to the white landscape below it. Overhead the clouds hung low and only a faint glow in one part showed where the sun was shining in the blue sky above.
    For a while Coral was content to wander here and there, making snow angles and throwing an occasional snowball for Candle to chase. She was glad to be outside away from everyone. It wasn’t that she disliked her nieces and nephews or her brothers and sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles, parents or grandparents, it was just–
    “You understand, don’t you, Candle,” Coral said, crouching down and hugging the dog. “There’s just too many people sometimes and all the little ones want me to play with them all the time. And when I don’t someone cries and then one of the grownups asks if I’d be willing to watch a different little one, or help in the kitchen. I’m always in demand by someone. Why, I haven’t even had a chance to pick up a book once since I’ve been here!”
    Candle tipped her head and her ears perked up.
    “I know,” Coral went on. “I thought this was going to be a family vacation.” She sighed. “I think everyone else is having a vacation but me.” Standing up, Coral gave a decided nod. “But I’m going to have a vacation right now. I’m going to find a nice cozy cabin and read. Micah said there are old cabins in these mountains, and he ought to know since he lives up here.”
    Candle gave a bark.
    Coral laughed. “Of course I brought a book. I zipped it inside one of the inner pockets of my coat. I thought of reading in one of the cars, but they get cold. You can come with me.” In her imagination, Coral could already picture the small, rustic cabin, a warm fire blazing in the fireplace and a comfortable rug or chair where she could read uninterrupted.
    She looked about her for a minute and then set off across the trackless snow. There really was no wind and everything was hushed and quiet. She made her way to what appeared to be a narrow trail leading into the trees. She loved exploring.
    “Come on, Candle,” she said, “maybe we’ll see some deer or even a fox on the way to the cabin.”
    But Candle stood in the open and whined. Coral coaxed and begged, but Candle refused to go. Instead she looked toward the lodge, and back at Coral and barked.
    “No, I’m not going back there yet,” Coral said, crossing her arms. “I’m not cold, and I don’t want to play picnic or dress-up or bunnies. I want to go explore. Come on, Candle.”
    Candle wagged her tail slowly and gave another bark.
    “Fine,” Coral sighed. “Go back to the warm lodge. Micah said you liked the snow. Maybe you only like it a little while.” With that she turned and started up into the woods.

*

    “Has anyone seen Coral?” Bethany asked, bouncing a fussing twin in each arm. “She’s so good with the twins that I thought maybe she’d like to cuddle one.”
    “Isn’t she back yet?” Dad asked. “I told her she could go out and play in the snow two hours ago.”
    Micah looked up from the book he was reading for the third time to some of the little ones. “Candle went out with her and she’s back, so she’s probably around somewhere, Beth.” Micah returned to the book not caring if his pronouns were clear or not.
    A few minutes later, after refusing to read the book for the fourth time, Micah noticed his dog standing by the door as though wanting out. “You were just out not long ago, Candle. Didn’t you have enough cold and snow with Coral?” He bent and ruffed the dog’s fur up affectionately. “Besides, it’s starting to snow.”
    “Micah?” There was something in Bethany’s voice that made Micah turn quickly. “No one has seen Coral. And Ben said he let Candle in about an hour ago but he didn’t know Coral had been out with her.”

How was your week?

Have you had snow yet?

Would you go exploring like Coral did?

His Way

 Happy last day of 2021!

This is late because we slept in. I'm still trying to get over this cold I got last week. I'm on the mend now, but sleep was so nice. :)

Hard to believe tomorrow is January 2022. I don't know how those who don't know that God is in control go into a new year. I'm excited to see what God has planned. I have my own plans and goals, but I'm learning to hold them with an open hand and let God guide my steps.

I'm going to keep this short today as it's already late and I need to do some other things. And you might have things to do this last day of 2021.

 His Way

    Barefooted, Lesley wandered down the beach away from the noisy party. Her head throbbed and she felt exhausted. As she walked, only the soft sound of waves washing gently up on the sandy broke the quiet and peace of the evening.
    Stopping, Lesley looked toward the west where the sun was sinking in yellow light into the clouds just above the horizon. The sky was a rosy gold with piles of fluffy clouds giving a slight purple look to the sky. As she looked, Lesley discovered one patch of blue and smiled as she looked beyond the clouds into the depth above.
    One lone palm tree, growing at a sloping angle stood, a lonely sentinel guarding the empty beach and the one single rowboat resting beneath it.
    As the throbbing of her head continued, Lesley’s face lost its smile and she sat down where she was feeling the longing to give way to the feelings of doubt, frustration, sorrow, and despair which seemed to stalk her footsteps these days.
    “There’s not much I can do,” she sighed. “My life is a mess and even though I’ve tried to fix it, I can’t.”
    Propping her elbow on her knee, she rested her head in her hand letting the quiet and peace surround her.
    “Less?”
    The soft voice made Lesley lift her head. Mary stood beside her.
    “Do you mind if I join you?”
    Wordlessly Lesley shook her head. It felt like too much trouble to say anything.
    Just as silently as she had come, Mary sat down in the sand, her arms clasped around her knees.
    For some time the two friends sat, watching the sun sink lower and lower. The sky darkened and deepened into velvety night.
    “What’s wrong, Less?”
    With a sigh, Lesley shook her head. “Everything.” Somehow she felt as though she could pour out all her troubles to Mary since it was dark. “I can’t get a job that pays well enough for me to work decent hours. Two of the people I thought were my friends aren’t talking to me now because I didn’t agree with something they thought was good. My parents’ health has declined so much in just the last month and I’ve worried about them until I’m almost sick. I hardly have time for anything fun and enjoyable. I thought tonight would be fun. But it’s not. The music is way too loud and people are acting silly, and. . . . Oh, I’m just . . . tired!”
    Mary reached over and gently began to massage her friend’s shoulders. “Oh, Lesley,” she began softly. “I’m sorry. I know things haven’t been easy for you lately. I didn’t realize they were this hard though. What do you need?”
    “I don’t know,” Lesley began, her voice breaking. “Why do I feel so empty, so frustrated and so helpless?”
    “I can’t say for sure, Less, but maybe, just maybe you are trying to take charge of your life in your own way, in your own time, and stay in charge of it. You can’t do it. You will only continue to make yourself miserable.”
    “But what am I supposed to do?” Lesley’s voice was rising. “I don’t have time to take care of my parents because the job is totally draining me, but if I quit how will I pay the bills? And what do I do about my friends?”
    “You pray, Lesley, and keep on praying. And you take time to be still and listen. Remember Elijah? God wasn’t in the fire, the wind or the earthquake. It was after those things that the still, small Voice spoke. Perhaps you need to live Psalm sixteen verse eleven. ‘Thou wilt show me the path of life: in Thy presence is fullness of joy; at Thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore.’ Have you been living that, Less? Have you been really and truly seeking the path of life? Have you been delighting in the Lord’s presence?”
    Lesley didn’t answer. She knew she hadn’t been, but she was so busy. Why didn’t God just point out the way so she could keep going?
    “Sometimes,” Mary said gently, as though she could read her thoughts, “we have to make the time to slow down and step out in faith not knowing where we are going next. It can be scary. I know. I’ve done it. But oh, Lesley, it is so worth it!”
    There were no words Lesley could speak. She knew she needed to take the time to really seek her Lord and His way, but choosing to set aside time she could be working or taking care of her parents to do so felt–wrong.
    Without another word, Mary rose and slipped away leaving Lesley alone. One bright star peeked through the opening in the clouds and seemed to blink a friendly message to the troubled girl on the sandy beach. She must have understood it, for Lesley, looking up into the place between the clouds, began to pray earnestly for wisdom and joy from the One who offered pleasures for evermore.

Do you ever feel overwhelmed & stressed?

What do you do about it?

Are you ready for 2022?

Behind Glory

 Merry Christmas!

Okay, Christmas Eve, but it's close enough. Besides, my brother and his family are coming over today to do Christmas with us, so it'll be Christmas. Of course the weather is not going to feel anything like Christmas is supposed to feel like as it's supposed to be 77º today. What kind of Christmas weather is that?

It's been a busy first part of the week.

Saturday– I had play practice in the morning and because two people from one group of singers were sick, they'd had to pull a singer from the other group as well as the pastor's son from KC to fill in. And then when my group of singers was singing we realized we were going to need someone else so my sister was recruited.

Sunday– Music practice before Sunday School. Bell practice with the kids after church, and then practice with my sister and two little girls (I played piano for them). I worked on caroling stuff some in the afternoon and then we were off for the Christmas program. It wasn't nearly as stressful and crazy as when I'm directing the play, which was nice. The play went well, and then we had a fellowship meal afterwards and got to visit with different ones.

Monday– Worked on caroling stuff, my grandpa came down for a short visit, saw the house and ate lunch with us before he went to my brother's to see his place. The caroling group met at 4:30 instead of 5 which was wonderful because it meant we could leave at 5 since it took us 3 hours to go to 8 places. Yes, they were scattered all over! Twice we had to drive 20 minutes to the next place.

Tuesday– I put things away and relaxed! Read.

Wednesday– I made a graham cracker house and worked on a blog post and even wrote. I finished today's story

Thursday– My mom and I decided we wanted to do some paper craft things for decorating the table for today, so we tried one thing. Didn't work. Tried another, too small. So my mom created something and it worked! It's so cute! Sorry, I don't have a picture to show you.

 Today's story is one I've wanted to write since Angie Thompson wrote her "Glory" story for her Advent collection. It takes place the same day as "Glory" only in a different place and gives a little glimpse into some other people who were going to be affected by the decisions the characters in "Glory" made. Totally confused yet? :D I hope you enjoy it.

 

Behind Glory

 

    Georgie woke with the pain of his broken leg chasing the pain from his bruised hip up and down his whole body. It wasn’t a pleasant sensation. Trying to fight back the tears, he opened his eyes. As he sniffed back the sobs, his nose wrinkled. Why did hospitals have to smell so . . . so clean? He longed for the smell of burnt bacon and dirt.
    “Good morning, Georgie,” a cheerful voice greeted him. “How do you feel today?”
    Georgie turned his head. Nurse Maddie was standing beside his bed.
    “I don’t like being here at Christmas.”
    “I know. And I wish you could be at home right now.” She brushed his dark hair off his face. “But tonight we’re going to have some special visitors. Some carolers are going to come and sing Christmas songs to all the children here at the hospital. Won’t that be nice?”
    Staring at the light beginning to come in through the curtained windows, Georgie nodded slightly. He remembered a time when his dad used to sing Christmas carols all December. Mom had said he couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, whatever that meant, but she had always laughed when she said it and smiled bigger. Dad hadn’t sung this year. Georgie wished he would. Maybe the carolers would be nice.

*

    It was late morning, the curtains were wide open and the children’s ward was bright with the winter sunshine. In the bed beside Georgie, a little fellow, only about six, lay with flushed face and red eyes. He’d been crying for some time and had only just calmed down enough for the nurse to slip away.
    “I want my mama . . . to sing . . . to me,” little Bobby hiccuped to no one in particular.
    “Bobby,” Georgie said, turning his head so he could see the little boy, “we’re going to have carolers come and sing to us tonight. Won’t that be nice?”
    Bobby hiccuped again. “Really?”
    “Uh huh. Nurse Maddie said so.”
    “Will they come tonight?” Kit lifted her head from her white pillow across the room.
    “Yes, tonight.”
    “Will they sing ‘Way in a Manger?” Lilly asked from a few beds down.
    “I don’t know. Maybe.”
    All around the room the children perked up.
    “I wish dey’d thing the thong ‘bout my brover.”
    “Your brother, Nanny?” Georgie shifted in his bed and bit his lip to keep back the cry of pain the movement had caused. He wanted to cheer up the other kids.
    “Uh huh. Harry.”
    “I don’t know that song,” Lilly said. “Can you sing it, Nanny?”
    “I don’t know it all.” Nanny half sat up in bed. “But I can thing thome.” With that Nanny began to sing. It wasn’t a very clear tune, but it was a joyful noise. “Hark, the Harry, angel thing, gory to the newborn King. Peathe on earth an’ merthy mine, God an’ thinnerth recognized. Joyful all ye naithonth withe, join the twiumph of the thkies, with Aunt Jelly hosth pwoclaim, Chwist ith born in Bethlehem. Hark, the Harry, angel thing, gory to the newborn King.”
    A patter of small hands clapping covered a muffled laugh at the nurse’s station near the door.
    “Georgie,” Teddy asked from over near the window, “Will they sing two songs?”
    “I think so.” Georgie thought of all the songs his Dad had sung and wondered how many Christmas songs there were. “Maybe they’ll even sing three songs.”
    A delighted “Oh!” echoed around the room.
    “Do you think they will wear red?” Lilly asked.
    “Maybe they’ll wear green,” Bobby said quite cheerfully having forgotten his own troubles in the promise of something special later on.
    The talk in the ward that morning and after visiting hours was all about the coming carolers. What colors would they wear? How many were coming? What would they sing? Would they come into the room? Would they have candles? Will they be wearing scarves? Do the nurses know them? What were their names?
    Georgie didn’t know the answers to the questions and neither did Nurse Elizabeth who had taken Nurse Maddie’s place.
    As dusk began to settle outside, Georgie felt himself growing restless. This was almost like waiting for Christmas morning to arrive. But unlike other Christmas Eve nights, this time Georgie couldn’t toss and turn in bed.
    “Georgie,” Bobby asked in a stage whisper, “they are coming, aren’t they?”
    “Sure they are, Bobby, why, they’re probably getting their coats on right now.”
    Lilly lifted her head. “You think so, Georgie?”
    “Sure.”
    There was a moment of silence in the dim ward. Supper was over and Nurse Elizabeth had left only a few small lights on.
    “What do you think they’re doing now, Georgie?” Kit’s voice was close to tears and Georgie guessed her back was hurting her a great deal.
    “Well, let’s see. One of the boys has to pick up one of the girls so he’s going over there. And--”
    “Do they know how to drive?” demanded Stevie.
    “I guess they might. If not someone else has to drive them.” He paused a moment and then went on. “But anyway, they’re driving down Main street and warming up their voices.”
    “Why?”
    “I don’t know.” Georgie wasn’t sure if real singers did warm their voices up, but his dad used to say--back when he sang--that he had to warm his voice up. Turning his head toward the door he wished the singers would come. They would come, wouldn’t they? If they didn’t come-- A lump the size of baseball seemed to rise in his throat. They had to come. They just had to!
    “What’re they doin’ now, Georgie?” Nellie asked. “Are they comin’ thoon?”
    “Pretty soon, I ‘spect. They have to get out of the car and walk inside now. Oops, one of them left his music in the car and had to run back out and get it maybe.” A few giggles sounded in the dim room. “Now they have to find out how to get to this part of the hospital. And they might get turned around a bit ‘cause it’s pretty big.” As Georgie wondered how much longer he could keep his story going, he thought he heard voices outside their room.
    Others heard them too and when the door opened, sixteen heads were turned and sixteen pairs of eyes fastened on the four visitors. The guys wore dark suits over white shirts and the girls wore red dresses.
    Not a sound could be heard as they stepped into the ward and began to sing. Their voices rich and full yet tender and soft reached to the most distant beds.
    Georgie felt like a warm blanket had been spread over him as he lay listening too the familiar strains of “Oh Come, All Ye Faithful.” He would have gone to Bethlehem to see the Baby if he’d been a shepherd. “Even if I had a broken leg,” he decided but bit his lip at a sudden stab of pain.
    After the first song, the carolers moved among the beds and spoke a few words to each child.
    One of the young men came over to Georgie and smiled down at him. “Hello there, I’m Greg.”
    “My name’s Georgie.”
    “It’s nice to meet you, Georgie. What are you doing in the hospital on Christmas Eve?”
    “Broke my leg.”
    “You did? Well, I did too when I was a little chap. Had to spend Christmas in the hospital too.”
    Georgie stared up at the smiling face of the singer. For a moment he didn’t know what to say. “I . . . I’m glad you came to sing to us. I miss my dad’s singing.” He swallowed hard.
    Greg squeezed his hand lightly. “I’m sure you do. We’ll sing again in just a minute, all right?”
    Georgie nodded, and Greg moved to another bed.
    When the carolers started singing again, Georgie lay quiet and listened, his eyes closed. They were songs he knew and their familiar words and tunes wrapped his heart like a hug and he drifted off to sleep with the soft strains of “Away in a Manger” taking away the sadness of being stuck in a hospital bed over Christmas.

Have you read "Glory"?

Did you have a good week?

What are your plans for Christmas?

Christmas Story Prompt

 This year, instead of taking you on a tour of Garlandsburg (our Christmas village) I'm going to ask YOU to tell me what is happening. That's right, you get to visit the unique village of Garlandsburg. Pick one of the pictures below and write a short (1,000 words or less) scene about what is going on. Share your story and let me know what happens. (Yes, the pictures are posted in the order they appear in the village this year.)

Ready? Start writing!

P.S. If you need any information or have any questions, just ask!