The Thin Gold Line - Guest Author Rachael Tamayo

I'm excited to welcome a brand new guest blogger today. One with an awesome job. A job I'm certainly not cut out for, but I have a ton of respect for those that do. But, why don't I let her tell you about it. 

My other job

Someone is breaking into my house.

I think she's dead.

I can't tell if he's breathing.

I need police, hurry, but I don't know where I am.

I've heard all of this, and then some, in my ten years as a 911 operator and police dispatcher. I've talked to distraught mothers and fathers, grown men that sob into the phone, scared children. I've also talked to numerous liars, criminals, mentally ill, and a few murderers.  I am that disembodied voice that you call for help, then forget about by the time the police, or maybe a fireman or ambulance come to your rescue. We are not remembered - destined to be called upon and then fade into the background.

They call us the thin gold line. It's a rare breed that can do this job and stick with it. It's said that less than two percent of the population can handle it. The turnover rate is astronomical. Honestly, I think you have to be just a touch crazy to want to do it, and even more so to be good at it. I can't tell you how many police officers I know that have stepped into my dispatch center and told me, "I don't know how you do this."

Those of us that do this, we do it because it's who we are. We love it. We're OK with being forgotten, yelled at, cussed out by strangers on a daily basis because they're just having a bad day. We all know that it's not about us, so we take the abuse and keep smiling. Why? Because we helped. 

There's no glory for us dispatchers. We don't need it. Just give us a Thank you from time to time and that's all we need. Glad to help. OK with being forgotten, as long as we were able to help you in your time of need.

I've been asked once or twice, how does doing this job help you in your writing? I've always been a writer, since I was a child. I suppose being submerged in such a wide range of human emotion on a daily basis gives me an insight that most people don't have. Like any other dispatcher, I have an ability to insert myself into the mind without losing my own in the process. This is the reason I can capture these feelings so well.

So what's my book about? It's book one in a series about good friends falling in love.  In book one, Adrienne Lawrence trips over her own big mouth when she lies to her mother about having a boyfriend when her mom's nasty comments about not having a date for a family wedding get to her.  Thank heavens for her close friend Clint. He steps in, agreeing to play the part of the devoted boyfriend at a week long venue wedding, saving her from embarrassment. After days of pretend kisses and smoldering looks, the lines between what's  pretend and what's real start to blur, and Adrienne has to fight her confusing feelings. The last thing she wants is to lose her friend, or become one of the women he leaves behind.

Author and Dispatcher Rachael Tamayo

My name is Rachael Tamayo and I work for an agency in the Houston, Texas area.  I'm also a wife and mother, and a writer. My first book is in pre-publication with solstice publishing. 

Please follow me on Facebook here https://m.facebook.com/Rachael-Tamayo-1600504033593522/

and 

Twitter here: https://twitter.com/rtamayo2004

For updated information regarding the release of my first book, Chase Me (title pending approval) book 1 in the Friend Zone series.  Check me out on the Web at http://www.rachaeltamayowrites.com

Thanks, Rachael for doing such an amazing job and being for guest blogging today. Be sure you check out her page and watch for her new release. I know I can't wait to read it. :)

Guest: Author Mary Connealy - Day 2

Projecting A welcomes Mary Connealy today as a guest blogger.


April said something in her interview about getting inside a man’s head so I thought I’d tell you a little bit of what I found while trying to get men ‘right’.

I was inspired by this saying I heard, a quote by George Carlin.

Men are from Earth. Women are from Earth. Deal with it!

Calico Canyon is the story of the prissy Miss Calhoun from Petticoat Ranch and her forced marriage to Daniel Reeves the father of her most unruly students.

Five little boys who are as horrified to have her for their new Ma as she is to find herself stuck with the Reeves men.

She got his boys expelled from school.

He got her fired.

And then a completely innocent compromising situation forces them to marry. I mean sure she spent the night with him. Sure she’s in her nightgown. Sure he slept with her, but...nothing happened.

Daniel cannot get the parson to believe that.

No two people could be more unhappily married.

Calico Canyon is in bookstores now. To find out more, check here:
http://www.maryconnealy.com/

In the meantime, one of the responses I've been getting about Calico Canyon, similar to Petticoat Ranch, is 'How'd you get inside a man's head so well?'

All I can say is...”who knows if I did?” How can any of us really KNOW if we've figured out men?
And what’s with the word MEN, like they’re not individuals, with their own hopes and dreams, personalities and behaviors. CAN we figure out MEN-plural? We can maybe...eventually...figure out A man, one we know personally, but is it fair to paint with such a broad stroke?

Here are some Man cliches....

All men are after only one thing.

All men are alike.

My husband says, Men think things through. Women talk things through.

Literature says, Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.

A jump rope ditty I remember goes:
Boys are rotten, made out of cotton
Girls drink Pepsi to get more sexy
Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider
Girls go to Mars to get more candy bars

George Carlin says: Men are from Earth. Women are from Earth. Deal with it.

Nicole Hollander: Can you imagine a world without men? No crime and lots of happy fat women.

Mary Poppins: “Though we adore men individually, I agree that as a group they're rather stupid."

Marge Simpson: Most women tell you that you're a fool if you think you can change a man- but those women are quitters.

I'm going to mention here that if you think there aren't a bazillion woman bashing jokes out there, you're livin' in a dream world.--here's a good example:

Q: What's the difference between a woman having her period and a terrorist?
A: You can negotiate with a terrorist.

What I'd like to hear from you is 'guy stories'.

Can you think of a story with your son, your boyfriend, your co-worker, your brother, your husband that just makes you say, "He is SUCH a guy!"

And anyone who leaves a comment today gets their name in the drawing for a signed copy of Calico Canyon.

So leave a comment and tell me your 'guy' stories. And don’t even think about topping me. I can tell ‘guy’ stories all day long.

Thanks, Mary! I can think of a few 'guy' stories. I can't wait to see what the rest of the gang comes up with.

A.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: Silent Night

It seems like good things always come in threes. It's a tradition set over two thousand years ago when three wise men followed God's leading and brought the baby messiah Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. But God has gifted us the three greatest gifts.




It's just:





Three little words.

Three short sentences.


Three big events.


"He Is Born."


"I Am Finished."


"He Is Risen."





Thank you, God, for loving us so much. Merry Christmas everybody.


A.






On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Love




God's Gift of Love

by Kathleen Y'Barbo

Love. It seems as though everyone these days is either in desperate avoidance of it, in the heart wrenching process of losing it, or in the giddy throes of finding it. Some have given up on it while others believe they will know it when they see it. All of us hope when it’s our turn, the love we get - and give - will be unconditional.

But can flawed humans really offer unconditional love?

Oh, we try. If you’re a parent you know the depth of love you felt the first moment you saw that precious baby of yours. Then there’s the feelings you carried up the aisle to join your beloved at the altar. Or perhaps love to you is counted by the nights spent at a parent’s bedside. The thread of love winds through each of these, and yet it is the rare parent, spouse, or child who would admit to having loved perfectly. We are human and sadly flawed, even when we act with the best of intentions.

There is only one unconditional love that never fails. Only one love that never turns a blind eye, says the wrong thing, or procrastinates rather than acts. The love of the Father, our Heavenly Father, is perfect in every way. Not only is His love unconditional, but He also loves us in spite of who we are and not for what we are. How wonderful to know that the God of the universe loves us.

Not just love in the way we see it, the stars-in-our-eyes crazy-about-my-baby love, but a depth of feeling exponentially more than anything our flawed but well intentioned hearts could imagine.

So today, when you’re reminded of that tiny baby, Jesus Christ the Creator-made-flesh, think of the love it took to accomplish this holy miracle of unconditional love. To put on the fingers and toes of an infant and come to us as Savior was the beginning of a love story that has no end.

Kathleen Y’Barbo

Kathleen Y'Barbo is the author of Beloved Castaway and countless other books. For more information visit www.kathleenybarbo.com.

On the Eleventh Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: More Than A Memory by Garth Brooks

I think it's too late for me to avoid a cluttered Christmas this year. Although, it's more cluttered with dirty dishes and scraps of wrapping paper than anything else. I love the busyness of the season. And I LOVE the quiet when it all ends.

Tonight, I gather with all my family for a Christmas Eve Party. We'll have snacks and open presents and visit and laugh and joke. And through every minute of it I am going to whisper Thank you to God. Not only for His Son, but for such a wonderful family and for allowing us to be together.

God Bless you and your family too,

A.

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of An Uncluttered Christmas




God's Gift of An Uncluttered Christmas

by Cyndy Salzmann

It was enough to curl my toes. And a quick glance at the other mother’s in the audience told me I wasn’t the only one who felt that way.

So what horrendous experience caused such a reaction from a room full of moms? A violent or sexually explicit movie? A challenge from Doctor Phil to “get real” and ‘fess up about our parenting faux pas? Or a pan of the audience spotlighting a really bad hair day?

Actually, the event that caused such a panic among this audience of mothers occurred during the Christmas program at my daughter’s school.

Things started innocently enough when the girls marched out onto the stage swinging colorful shopping bags. Of course, they were adorable and the apples of their mothers’ eyes. The trouble began when the girls opened their mouths and sang…

Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!

Scurry! Scurry! Scurry!

Worry! Worry! Worry!

Christmastime is here!

As I said, it was enough to curl my toes. Just the thought of all that hurrying, scurrying and worrying to prepare for Christmas gave me a full-blown hot flash. No wonder depression peaks during the holidays. Faced with all that stress , I wouldn’t want to get out of bed either.

Once my hot flash ceded, I began to realize that this is just where Satan wants us – dreading the celebration of the most precious gifts to mankind – the birth of Jesus Christ. And frankly, it made my blood boil – almost bringing on another hot flash. I decided right then that he wasn’t going to get away with it.

We have a choice on how much hurrying, scurrying and worrying we do. And this year I hope you’ll make a commitment to join me in uncluttering your Christmas by jumping off the treadmill and keeping your eyes on the true reason for the season.

BTW- I have a tip sheet with practical ideas and advice to help you to simplify your holidays and focus on Jesus’ birth. Just contact me at cyndy@cyndysalzmann.com and I’ll email you a copy.

Cyndy Salzmann is the author of Crime & Clutter, book two in the highly acclaimed Friday Afternoon Mystery series published by Howard Books. As America’s Clutter Coach, Cyndy is a popular national speaker and radio personality. Cyndy, her husband and three children, live in Omaha, Nebraska. For more information visit http://www.cyndysalzmann.com/

On the Tenth Day of Christmas...

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Memories



God's Gift of Memories

by Marlo Schalesky

Memory is a powerful thing. We hear a song from our high school days and we’re transported to sweaty school dances and blasting the radio in our first car. The smell of brownies baking takes us back to pigtails and ponies. We drive by the house we lived in as a kid and remember the swingset in the backyard and how that rotten kid from next door blew spitwads through the hole in the fence.

Ever gotten sick on a type of food? You’ll never want to have that again. And don’t even think about naming your child after that whiny little brat that sat behind you in the fourth grade, even if your spouse loves that name.

Memory. It’s why we treasure photos, display mementos, keep in touch with people from our past. It’s why God set up festivals for the ancient Israelites and told them to erect memorials at significant places in their history.

Memory. It’s why the sight of a stuffed stocking takes me back to those early mornings in my childhood when my brother and I would wake up before dawn, run to the fireplace, get our stockings, and race back to my parents’s bed. Mom was always ready. Dad pretended to complain. And together, with lots of giggling and the thrill of anticipation, we’d pull out the gifts from our stockings one by one. Simple things, boring really. Candy. A toothbrush. Some silly plastic toy. Things that would be used up or forgotten in just a few short weeks. And yet, opening stockings is my favorite Christmas memory from childhood.

Why? I think it’s because good memories are not necessarily made from the “big stuff.” Rather, they’re fashioned out of warmth and happiness and times together. They’re woven with laughter, colored with simple, plain joy. They come from times when you experience love.

So, this year, I’m thinking about the memories I’m making now, for my kids, and for myself. I don’t want those memories to be ones of a Mom who’s running around with too much to do and too little time to do it. I don’t want them to be of hustle, bustle, shopping, wrapping, cooking, cards, and gifts thrown under the tree. I don’t even want them to be of the cool stable-and-horse set that my girls will unwrap on Christmas morning. Or the cheap kid’s guitar for my oldest (age 7), or the new “ooo-ahh” (stuffed gorilla) for one of my 2-year-old twins.

Because the toys will break, get old, get lost, or they’ll outgrow them. But they won’t outgrow the happy memories of family times together. The memories of decorating Christmas cookies with laughter and joking – those won’t get old. The times we make a gingerbread house together, or sit down and watch the Grinch – those won’t break. The simple things make the best memories. Times when we’re together as a family, having fun, enjoying the traditions we’re building together.

So, that’s my goal this Christmas, to weave memories of peace, love, togetherness, because that’s the best gift I can think of to celebrate Jesus’ birth -- Memories that bring a smile to the face of children . . . and to the face of the King.

For more about the power of memories in our lives, check out Marlo's next novel, Beyond the Night, releasing in May. A woman in a hospital bed, a man sitting beside her, and between them, a memory that can set her free. Find out more at: http://www.marloschalesky.com/

On the Ninth Day of Christmas....

All I can say is, Thank God for this one. I can't imagine a life without Stories.

A.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Story

God's Gift of Dreams and Story

by Melody Carlson

A dream doesn’t always seem like a gift from God, but sometimes I’ll experience one so vivid and amazing that I can’t help but think God is at work. I remember a dream that woke me in the middle of the night about ten years ago. I was so moved that I felt compelled to write it down. In my dream I saw a sweet angel who was distraught that Jesus was about to leave heaven to be born as a baby on earth. So she volunteered to give up being an angel and God transformed her into a magnificent star to light the night sky for the Big Event. I won’t tell the entire dream, but simply let it be said that the ending surprised everyone—including me. The story became a children’s Christmas book called The Greatest Gift (which is currently out of print). But as a result of that dream, I began to pay even more attention to my dreams. Sometimes I think that God simply uses them to show me things about my own life and sometimes my dreams wind up in my books.

Melody Carlson is the author of Ready to Wed, (Guideposts Books 2007). This story also involves a dream! For more information visit www.melodycarlson.com

On the 8th Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: Paralyzer by Finger Eleven

Unexpected Blessings. Now there is something I can identify with. Especially right now. I received so many unexpected blessings during my recent health crisis. A friend has even planned a benefit concert on my behalf. How unexpected is that?

I have lost count of how many unexpected blessings I've recieved, but it sure is humbling to try to remember them all. Some of them didn't really seem like blessings at the time they happened.

Like not getting to go off to college with all my friends after high school. Turns out God had a passel of special little babies for me to raise instead. Or not having the money to register for the ACFW conference this year. Instead, God knew I would need emergency surgery during that week. Good thing I wasn't in Texas!

How about you? What unexpected blessings can you think of? I'd love to hear what they are.

A.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Unexpected Blessings




God's Gift of Unexpected Blessings

by Angela Hunt

The arrival of our daughter from South Korea wasn’t exactly unexpected—we’d spent years longing for her, and then months praying for that little baby’s safe arrival in our arms.

And as I look back over the experience, I can’t help thinking of Mary, who must have had such mixed feelings when she held the infant Jesus in her arms. Great joy, for the promised child had arrived. Great responsibility for the fragile life in her care. And great dread for the difficulties and sorrows that would arise.

As a young mother, I knew there would be tough times, and I haven’t been disappointed. But through bad times and good, through loving moments and less-than-loving moments, I can see the hand of God’s sovereignty molding me, my husband, and my children into the people he intends us to be.

Christmas shines brightest in the eyes of children. But it resonates most deeply in the hearts of those who love them.

Angela Hunt

Angela Hunt is the author of Doesn't She Look Natural? (Tyndale Publishers). For more information visit www.angelahuntbooks.com

On the Seventh Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: I'm Telling You by Von Smith

Unique. Now there's a word you either embrace or abhor. I think I've learned to finally embrace my uniqueness. I'm okay with being a klutzy bookworm, that's directionally challenged. I'm okay with being a Nerd Lover and Conspiracy Theory Buff. I love my SciFi and I'm not afraid to have a different opinion - at least, not now.

I've always known that my family was different, and although we have many friends and loved ones, I've always suspected that many saw us as 'eccentric'. I wouldn't want it any other way. Thank God for giving me a UNIQUE family.

A.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Uniqueness





God's Gift of Uniqueness

by Tosca Lee

I used to hate my name. “Tosca” was too unusual. “Moon,” my middle name, was just downright embarrassing. “Lee” was all right, though it still set me apart from the rest of the Caucasian kids in my school. In an era when Christy Brinkley graced the cover of every fashion magazine, I did not wish to accentuate my different-ness.

The name I really wanted was Marie--probably because others had it and that meant I could at least buy one of those door plates for my bedroom door or license plates for my bike, which was my litmus test. As it was, they sure didn’t have plates for kids named “Tosca.”

In junior high, my friends called me “Weird Tosca.” I didn’t like that so much.

These days I teach about talent in my work as a consultant. I talk about the strange, quirky things that not only set people apart, but have the potential to make them great. A friend said to me once, “Stars have points.” He’s right. And when we blunt our points, we lose the defining characteristics of our unique mark in and contribution to this world.

Opportunities work much the same. It’s the unique ones that seem to hold the greatest potential impact. When my main character, Clay, bumps up against the opportunity to hear the story of creation from the viewpoint of a Demon, he is terrified--intrigued, but terrified. And so he resists. While his reaction might be in keeping with any sane person’s, it’s also a human reaction to the unusual. But in this case, it’s the unusual that might just might save his soul.

How has God revealed to you your uniquness? And what, most importantly, is He telling you to do with it?

Weird Tosca


“You need to know something more about Elohim: he is the ultimate force of creativity. He is the author of diversity.” --Lucian, Demon: A Memoir


Tosca Lee is the author of Demon: A Memoir and of the upcoming Havah: The Story of Eve. For more information visit www.demonamemoir.com

On the Sixth Day of Christmas...

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Unconditional Acceptance





God's Gift of Unconditional Acceptance

by Lisa Samson

Clearly God Incarnate wasn't choosy. He wasn't born in a palace, but to a simple peasant woman bearing the stigma of a pregnancy conceived out of the bonds of matrimony. He wasn't even born in his own town, but endured a long ride to Bethlehem in his mother's womb only to be born in a stable among the livestock. Even after his ministry began he owned one robe and proclaimed himself homeless when He said, "Foxes have dens, birds have nest, but the Son of God has no place to lay His head."

If we used some TV preachers' standards today, Jesus clearly wasn't blessed by God. He didn't have the finest clothes, transportation or housing. Even most of His disciples weren't exactly candidates for a PhD. Clearly He must not have had enough faith if that's all He was getting from His Father!

But Christ isn't choosy and that is good news for us. For there isn't a single human being who can impress Him into shining His light of grace upon them. The stockbroker on Wall Street stands level with the illegal immigrant who picks strawberries. The evangelist in fine suits or sparkly dresses looks eye-to-eye with the busdriver. And the homeschool mom stands shoulder to shoulder with the prostitute. His love demands He looks above the good and the bad, and His arms are always open, ready to receive us when we are ready to receive Him. Sometimes we run back into His arms many times in one day and He doesn't care if we've showered or put on the latest fashions, He's only looking for a contrite heart. That's it. A heart that says, "I'm sorry."

This Christmastime, rest in the fact that you can't impress Christ. He doesn't care about our beautiful cookies or the fact that our trees look designer coordinated. He isn't impressed we ran around to ten different stores to find the perfect present for Aunt Sue. He just wants us to love Him, just as we are, for when we do, we incarnate Him in the here and now, and there's no telling what He'll do through us.


Lisa Samson is the author of Hollywood Nobody (NavPress, 2007), For more information visit www.lisasamson.com

On the Fifth Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: White Christmas



All I have to add is.... AMEN.

A.




On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Imagination




God's Gift of Imagination

by Jack Cavanaugh

Christmas is a holiday for the imagination.

Angels and shepherds and wise men (oh my!),

Tyrants and taxes and stars in the sky!

No room for a bed

As tidings were spread

And the Father looked down from on high.

It’s no wonder the story of the nativity thrills our hearts year after year. It’s a wonderfully creative event orchestrated by a Deity who loves using His imagination. Take the temple priest’s robes for example. When the temple was first built God assembled all the skilled craftsmen and gave them instructions (Exodus 35:10). The craftsmen designing the priestly robes were told to adorn them with images of blue pomegranates (Exodus 39:24).

Blue?

There’s no such thing as a blue pomegranate! What was God thinking? If this kind of creativity were to catch on we could end up with Christmas cards with images of green angels, pink Christmas trees, and a plaid star over the manger!

If blue pomegranates bothers you…get over it! We have a wonderfully imaginative God who frequently colors outside the lines. Go, and do thou likewise.

Wishing you an imaginative Christmas season.

Jack Cavanaugh is the author of Hideous Beauty: Kingdom Wars #1 and countless other books. For more information visit www.JackCavanaugh.com.

On the Fourth Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: Santa Baby by Eartha Kitt







The Hafer Brothers have nailed it. I can't imagine how tired God must get of my constant flubs, yet He's always there, pulling me back and loving me. That is definitely a gift to be thankful for. I highly recommend the Hafer Brothers books as well, they're pretty amazing and would make great Christmas gifts too.

A.


On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of God's Patience

The Gift of God's Patience

by Griffin Smith
(written by Todd & Jedd Hafer)

Thanks for reading, everybody. My name is Griffin Smith. I’m in my second year at Lewis College (Go Eagles!) on the track team. Specifically, I run distance. Okay, I realize “distance” isn’t really specific at all. In high school I ran the 1600 and 3200 meters – that’s the mile and 2-mile for those of still holding strong in the anti-metric resistance.

As a runner and big-time sinner, the gift I am most thankful for this Christmas (and every day) is patience. Not my own, as my dad likes to say “looooong-suffering”. No, I could use a ton more. I routinely lose my patience in class, in races, in relationships – even with my little brother Colby who overcame the burden of being named after cheese to become the sweetest kid on the planet.

The amazing gift is God’s patience. His patience with me – the most unsweetened kid on the planet (and I know that is not the most grammatically sound phrase, but it’s tough for me to write about positive subjects, so, if we’re going to play ball, you’re going to have to indulge me).

Anyway, I constantly criticize myself, even punish myself (since we’re trying to be positive, I won’t get into that now), but God, He just keeps loving me. I try to squirm away, I even bend God’s fingers back, He just patiently holds on. I swear the guy must be double-jointed.

I’m definitely thankful for that grip though. I’d hate to think He’d ever let go.



The point is I know He never will. It’s just not in His nature. Good news for people like me!

You can read more of Griffin Smith’s ramblings about his surface life and his private pain in the novels Bad Idea: A novel with Coyotes and From Bad to Worse: A novel with Girls by Todd and Jedd Hafer

Third Day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: Emmanuel by Amy Grant

Today's topic is Restoration, and after reading Rachel's post, I think you'll agree with me. You'll never see pennies quite the same again.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Restoration

God's Gift of Restoration

by Rachel Thoene

When I was but a wee child, I had many opportunities to travel with my dad’s folks, Nonnie and Papa, on trips to the coast with their house trailer.

My Nonnie was religious about packing sandwiches, fresh home made cookies and fruit for the trip. She wrapped the cookies and sandwiches in wax paper… this was before the days of juice boxes and Lunchables… and the whole picnic was packed neatly into one or two sturdy shoe boxes for the trip. A thermos of coffee for she and Papa and one of milk for me. The trip to the coast was only about two and a half hours long, but about half way there, Papa would slow the rig to a wide spot in the road and we would have a “picnic” together before continuing on our way to the ocean.

I was asked to contribute some thoughts on the gift of God’s restoration vs. life’s destination.

As I mulled a few thoughts over, it occurred to me that Nonnie’s “shoe box lunches” were a lot like God’s gift of restoration… Sure we had a destination in mind. It was exciting to get out of the valley and go spend time at the ocean with the sand and the waves and time all to myself with my Nonnie and Papa collecting shells… but the picnic lunch on the side of the road DURING the trip restored us and provided a brief respite in our journey.

Lately, my heart has been troubled and anxious as I have been caring for a friend with a very serious cancer. And I have found myself, head down, walking my campus during the day at work, talking to God about her condition and the outcome of all of this agony…And as I have conversed with Him on these strolls, I have picked up an amazing number of Pennies… every day… pennies… sometimes it’s only one or two, sometimes I’ve found 12 or more… but every day…pennies. And the curious thing is that every single one of those pennies says, “In God we Trust.” And I pick them up, put them in my pocket and say, “Thank you Lord. We are blessed today and we are whole, healthy, healed and restored…”

I believe that my friend is going to be well at the end of all of this, because God reminds me daily through those pennies to TRUST HIM”. And every penny draws me closer to Him so that I am focusing now on the moment and my conversation with Him, daily being restored in my faith and claiming her healing and I’m not any longer worrying about the destination or when we’re going to get there, because we have been given THIS MOMENT and in THIS Moment, I’m going to just pull my rig to the side of the road and have a picnic with Him in my heart.

Rachel Thoene is the author of The Vase Of Many Colors (Capstone Books, 2007), For more information visit www.thoenebooks.com

On the second day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: Let it Snow... and that is a plea. Please send snow, not more ice...

Today is the second guest blog of the 12 days of Christmas. The theme is Simplicity. I have to say that Simplicity is something I always tell myself I'll have more of and then never do. I love all the lights and the decorations, the holiday themed specials and programs. I love hosting Christmas parties and making my cards. It's all so much fun, that I have a terrible time saying no to any of it. Then I find around December 22nd, that I'm feeling a little overwhelmed. :) Anyone else feel that way? I wouldn't give it up though, I'm plenty simple the rest of the year. There's nothing wrong with stepping back and examining your holiday schedule, and if simplicity can be found, then good luck to you.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Simplicity

God's Gift of Simplicity

by Wanda E. Brunstetter


The Amish people I write about celebrate Christmas in a much simpler way than most of us do. There are no Christmas trees or colored lights in their homes. The gifts they give one another are simple and functional, not elaborate or expensive. Their emphasis at Christmas is on the birth of Jesus and the love they feel for God, family, and friends. Anyone can give the gift of simplicity, and it can be given any time of the year. A smile, a hug, a listening ear. . .these are the gifts of simplicity.

Wanda E. Brunstetter is the author of many Amish themed books including the latest A Sister's Secret (Barbour Books, 2007) , the first installation in the Sisters of Holmes County series. Watch for the second installment, A Sister's Test, in January 2008. For more information visit www.wandabrunstetter.com

First day of Christmas...

Song Stuck on the Brain: Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong. Call me crazy, but this song popped into my head this morning along with an idea for a Victoria's Secret commercial. And no, I wasn't doing anything related to bras at the moment.

Once again life has been a little crazy. It seems this holiday season is determined to be a sad one. We lost one of our bosses to a heart attack shortly after Thanksgiving. Joan was a sweet woman. Then, just a few days ago a close friend called to tell us a relative had committed suicide. It's been heartbreaking for them and I can't help but empathize. It's killing me to watch them suffer so much. We also learned my ex-brother in-law fell off of a latter and broke his hip, rendering it impossible for him to travel down for Christmas. I promise none of our family prayed for him to get hurt, but not one of us is sorry he won't be making the trip. I do hope he heals well though, I know he must be in a lot of pain, and I don't wish that on anyone. Not even him.

To top it off the benefit concert planned for this last weekend had to be cancled due to the ice storms, which we're getting more of as I type. I don't like ice. Not even in my lemonade.

Although, the last couple of weeks have been harried and sad, I know that God's hand is going to carry everyone through this and bring them out to a happier day.

Today also starts the twelve days of Christmas, and we have guest blogs from now til Christmas. I hope you enjoy. Oh and don't forget to enter the contest to win Fearless. Just click on the book at the right to email your entry.

A.


Celebrating the true meaning of the Christmas season, GRPR is proud to introduce to you the twelve days of Christmas. Twelve inspired devotional thoughts written by some of the best and brightest authors in the Christian industry.


On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me....

The Gift of Honesty

God's Gift of Honesty

by Mark Littleton


As a new Christian, I wasn’t really prepared for the stark truth about my previous life. Rummaging in my closet, I came across several shirts I had shop-lifted a couple of years before. I immediately remembered several items from the same heist.

Standing there trembling, I was unsure about what to do. I prayed, “God, what should I do about this?” It seemed the inner voice spoke immediately: “You need to return them to the store.”

I didn’t need to reflect much on it. I knew that was the right thing to do.

I packed up the items, drove to the nearby Bamberger’s store at the Cherry Hill Mall and found security. I explained what I’d done and offered to pay for the items. The guard smiled. “Every now and then we get one of these,” he said. “I’ll find out the prices and you can pay.”

A few days later, I got the call. Over sixty-five dollars in charges. In 1972 dollars, that was a lot of money. I sucked it up, though, wrote out a check and dropped it by. The guard thanked me for my integrity, saying, “I wish there were more like you out there. But shop-lifting costs us big-time. Just the same, I respect what you did.”

I went away feeling like I’d pleased God. There were other things I would return in the coming days, and it was always difficult. And costly. But the peace of mind and heart I received were all worth it. To say nothing of the witness to unbelievers, one of whom invited me to come visit him his family in Switzerland after I sent him back the stamps I’d stolen while babysitting his children years before.

Mark Littleton is the author of The Ten-Second Prayer Principle: Powerful Prayer As You Go (Howard Books, 2007) and many other books. For more information visit life-ology.townhall.com or www.winsunliterary.com.