The Story Behind the Pin

I was going through my pins on pinterest, and I realized that I had so many photos that would be excellent story-starters. I even have a board dedicated to story-worthy pins (called "The Story Behind"). But I never have used any of those photos for a story or even a character snippet. So, I decided to remedy that. Hence, The Story Behind the Pin where I pick a photo from pinterest and write about it, whatever comes from the inspiration of the moment. I hope you enjoy!

via pinterest

She tried to keep her face vaguely cheery so the world could not peek in past her vacant eyes. Eyebrows up, mouth in a slight smile, staring at no one in particular and acknowledging none of the glances that fell her way. She knew she looked pretty, at least if the mirror hadn't lied this morning. But she didn't feel it. How could she feel pretty when she was alone?

She had been waiting in this little cafe for so long that her eyes were beginning to glaze over. Shapes moved and blurred and skidded over the rim of her consciousness, but none entered her thoughts. The world glowed and blossomed around her in the warmth of a summer's day, but she could not see it. Her gaze bore through the glaze to the grey wall on the opposite side of the street. Somehow even though everything else blurred, this did not. She had memorized every crack etched in its expressionless side.

 Maybe this was all she was left to be. She had built up so many walls that it was becoming her existence. Too many people had pierced through her rubble with swords that slashed her soul. Now no one could get in.

 She had coated on so many layers over the scars that she was convinced they weren't visible anymore. She wasn't vulnerable anymore.

 But now she was only a cold grey wall.
(c) Rachel Lowrance 2013

I hope you enjoyed my little snippet. It was certainly a pleasure to write again, after so long of a break. Let me know if you like this idea, and perhaps I could make it into a linkup!
 

Button Swap

Bree over at Tea & Bree is having a button swap, and happily I was invited to join. I'm so glad I did, because through it I got to meet a brand new blogging friend whose blog I had somehow missed in my time so far in the blogosphere. I'm still surprised that I didn't run across her blog before, seeing as her blog (not to mention her writing) is amazing. It was a lot of fun to interview her (as well as be interviewed by her), and I hope you all will hop over to her blog and see for yourself how beautiful her writing is.

So, I give you: Jenny, from The Penslayer.
(My questions are in bold, and her answers are directly after.)


Well, first off I have to ask: where did the title of Penslayer come from? How did you originally decide to start a blog?
You know that saying, “the pen is mightier than the sword.”  Everyone knows that saying.  Well, the story goes, on a forum of which I used to be a part I would post pieces of my work: snippets from large stories, one-shots, short stories, those kinds of things.  It really helped build my confidence because I would get sound criticism and, in general, people liked my work.  And one time a friend of mine liked a piece I had written so much that she said, “Jenny, you’ve penslain me!”  And suddenly I became The Penslayer and I made a name for myself slaying people with my prose.  (There must be a story in that…)  The name stuck, and when I made my writing blog I had a name ready to hand: The Penslayer.  As for why I had to start the blog, I started it right around the time my book The Shadow Things came out to help carve a niche for myself on the internet and get my name out there.  It seems to have done none too badly!

About you: if you could pick three words to describe yourself, what would they be?
Elemental.  Ginger.  Sehnsucht.

Describe the perfect day.
The perfect day is in autumn with clear air and only a few clouds, cool but not cold, with plenty of sun to make you warm again, the maples in full flaming foliage, and a bonfire somewhere filling the air with a sweet fragrance.

What would you say inspires you to write books? What do you do to ignite the spark or keep the words flowing?
Reading helps me most.  Sometimes music helps, if I already have an idea and just need the impetus to write it down, but reading helps the most.  When I am dry, when I can’t think of anything or (which happens more often) I simply don’t feel that I want to write, I find a good book of fiction, sit down, and read.  When I get caught up in the glory of the novel I find I am fighting the itch to go write myself, and I soon leave the book behind and am back at the computer, writing my own scrawling fire-ink on the page.  Jealousy in a woman is a powerful catalyst.  I cannot long stand to be outdone by the masters.  I must imitate them.

If you could wish for anything in the world, what would it be?
To do magic.  Really nice, instantaneous magic with pretty lighting.  But no one would let me do it because I would make River Tam look like a Girl Scout.  C’est la vie.

What kind of music do you most like to listen to, and why? Could you list a couple of your favorite songs?
I don’t know the music genres, so I can’t answer that.  I listen to music (I can answer this) because I must: there are some things in life, many things in life, some snatches of words, some emotions, many truths, which cannot be adequately communicated or received apart from music.  I am, as to that, keeping a rough list of the songs that seem to help me as I write Plenilune.  To date, they are the following:
You As You Were—Shearwater
Animal Life—Shearwater
Viva La Vida—Coldplay
Brother, Stand Beside Me—Heather Dale
Sherwood—Heather Dale
Dementia—Owl City
Take It All Away—Owl City
Lothlorien—Lord of the Rings Musical
Wonder—Lord of the Rings Musical
Now and For Always—Lord of the Rings Musical
Breaking Through—Audrey Assad
Show Me—Audrey Assad

Since you are a writer, I’m sure you are a reader as well. Can you name your top ten favorite books and why they resonate with you?
My train of thought wrecked.  There were no survivors.  I want to answer this question with the caveat that these titles are my favourites to date.  The more I read and the more I grow the more these books are replaced by better ones.  (And thank you for giving me ten titles, not just one.) 
The Gammage Cup—Carol Kendall
The Worm Ouroboros—E.R. Eddison
The Eagle of the Ninth—Rosemary Sutcliff
The Silver Branch—Rosemary Sutcliff
Simon—Rosemary Sutcliff
The Shield Ring—Rosemary Sutcliff
The Ballad of the White Horse—G.K. Chesterton
The Great Divorce—C.S. Lewis
Perelandra—C.S. Lewis
The Hobbit—J.R.R Tolkien

I see you have published a book! That is awesome (and I am quite jealous)! Can you tell me a bit about your book and the journey you had to publication?
I didn’t really think about why I was writing The Shadow Things while I was in the process; it was only when I had finished (or nearly finished) that I looked back and discovered I had explored the torment endured by a lonely Christian soul in a thoroughly anti-Christian environment—but more than that, many of us know what it is like to hurt and be lonely: I had written a character who knew how to live it, to rise to it, to walk almost joyfully through an oppressive life.  We know what it is like to be crushed: in Indi I discovered what it looked like to glory in this momentary light affliction.  It is, in a novel, a depiction of those in the Beatitudes.

The journey to the publication of The Shadow Things was unusually short, and two years and several subsequent stories have blurred my memory.  Somehow I wrote that odd critter called a query letter and, among the houses I contacted (unagented) I found one that took me.  We were on the verge of the Christmas market so it was really a rush to get The Shadow Things through so that it would be out on time.  That, too, makes it quite a blur.  We had book signings (very new experience) and a television interview (VERY new experience), and it really happened so quickly that it was really only in the past few months of this year (2012) that it really struck me: I’m an author. 

What other works in progress are you currently working on?
I have quite a number of ideas at varying stages.  We’ll focus on the core three.  Adamantine, for a long time my magnum opus, is a finished fantasy that I am currently in the process of finding an agent for.  (Ended that sentence with a preposition!  Oh yeah!)  To either baffle you or pique your interest, I will tell you that it combines Victorian England, Beowulf, Faerie, an ancient god, and a tip of the hat to the Roman Empire.  It makes sense.  You’ll just have to wait for the novel to come out to find out how.  It’s companion novel, Plenilune, is what I am writing now.  This deals with another Victorian girl placed as a pawn on the political chessboard of a confederacy bereft of a ruler and not liking the candidate for ruler that is lined up to govern them.  It deals with politics, magic, treachery, love, and war.  It is a full, red-blooded story and I am enjoying writing it.  The third book, which I have not begun to write but is also meant to be a companion to the other two, is Gingerune, about the product of a ruinous war between two powerful races and about the secret that slumbers, waiting to be discovered, that will turn the world upside down.

What is your favorite genre to write in? Are there any genres you haven’t attempted or tend to avoid?
My favourite genre to write is fantasy.  It gives you more room than historical fiction does simply because you’ve got to get your facts right in historical fiction: someone already came up with those.  In fantasy, however, though you are allowed to come up with your own facts, one is handicapped simply because fantasy has to make more sense than reality: the reader will suspend his disbelief only so long: you can’t just wildly break every physical and ethical law we all take for granted.  Fantasy really does demand a lot from the writer.  But I love it all the same: it allows me to best express my own imagination and communicate what I see and feel.  I have written a little science fiction, nothing worth mentioning (no really, don’t mention it), and I tend to steer clear of contemporary fiction.  I’m sure there are some great contemporary authors out there and I just haven’t found them yet, but my style suffers an almost fatal blow when I try to write contemporary.  Everyone notices it.  I notice it.  And so I avoid it.

I would love to see some excerpts of your work, if you are willing to share.

From Plenilune:

I spoke with Mark Roy this evening before coming up to my room.  Somehow he got out of me, in one of those moments in which politeness must disarm my tongue, that I am leaving tomorrow, and I was surprised to see that he seemed genuinely sorry.  Perhaps he believes Centurion and Lord Gro.  Perhaps my episode in the woods has helped prove to him that I am not willingly Rupert’s pawn, that I should wish better things for them—as if wishing had any weight.  He was sorry, and urged me to visit them in Orzelon-gang’s capital some day.  Of course I told him that I would—what else could I have said?—and he began to tell me of its beauty, a little like a man who is homesick, and the strange thing was that I felt he was painting a portrait of his wife as he spoke.  He talked of the black marble, that is native to Plenilune, with which his home is made, and of the many little streams and pools that run all through it, making music in the background, and the great red and gold fish that they keep which flicker like flames in the watery dark.  He spoke of the golden dragons which are the doorposts of the house, of the lotus gardens that make the grounds look as if the sky has come down among them when the plants are all in bloom.  I thought of strange, beautiful Romage and her harp-music, of the red-and-gold thread of her hair and song, and the huge orchestral dark behind her, and wondered if Mark Roy thought of that too when he spoke of his home, and if that was why he sounded homesick.

From Adamantine:

Everything seemed to come from far away to Adamant, drifting on the silver-rimmed rush of storm-sound from without: and herself, she fancied, in a hollow shell, cupped by timber walls as the storm surged around her, the warmth of fire and malt and small beer porridge fortifying her against the cold noise of the wind-surf.  But just at the moment sleep was stealing upon her, and she thought somewhere in the confusion of sounds that she heard a voice calling her name, a child shrieked with laughter, and the silver spell was broken.
Rhodri took her empty bowl from her and passed it to the fairy woman.  “I apologize; my conversation is boring you to sleep.”
She was too tired to even feel embarrassment.  “Small wonder she’s dropping asleep as she sits,” the woman remarked.  She was aware of a grey, bundly, mothy creature hustling over to her, and she was suddenly loathe to let go of the hand which Rhodri extended to her to help her up.  “After a long ride in the sleet-swale, small wonder—tsk! small wonder!”
“Eikin,” said Rhodri.
The familiar warm-smelling figure of the Catti loomed beside her.  “Come in-by, firur,” he murmuring to her, and she stumbled off Rhodri’s hand onto his arm, catching herself with a wave of self-consciousness in order to walk steadily.  But she was blind-weary, and confused with food and drink; yet even in her weariness, as one would be aware of a thing in a dream, she was aware of Rhodri’s sharp eyes on the back of her neck, watching her go, watching Eikin go.  Even as she passed out of sight into a long dark hall, with a softness of feather-stuffed mattress somewhere in the depths of the dark, she felt that awareness looking after her still. 
“Mind that I’ll be by the door,” she heard Eikin say, and she did not understand what he meant.  “Call if you need anything.”
Then he left, and she let her fingers slip on consciousness entirely, falling into a dreamless place where she heard the sough of the wind and the drumming of Andor’s breath, and someone from very far away—far away as years are far away—calling her name.

And that's it! Don't you love these excerpts? Even though I don't know anything of either of these stories, she's drawn me in where I'm left wondering what's next. I would highly recommend you check out her blog and read more of her writing for yourself. And head over to Bree's blog where she has listed the rest of the lovely ladies participating in her button swap!

Untitled

We've received little snow this winter, making the world for the most part bleak and dreary. But on one of those rare occasions where it snowed, I was inspired to write this story. I cannot for the life of me come up with a title that does not give anything away - so perhaps if you are so inspired after reading it you can help me come up with one.

* * *

Solemn and hushed under a full moon, the forest lay. Its dark trunks stood in perfect rows, stretching further than the eye could see. Yet in the very center, one tree was missing.

A girl stood in the gap, straight as the trees around her. Her feet were firmly planted in the sparse sprinkling of snow on the ground. The full moon pulled her shadow out behind her, painting it dark and straight as the forbidding trees. Her flaming hair flowed loose down her shoulders, barely lighter than her bright red cloak beneath. In all the cold, bleak woods she was the only thing alive.

The air crystallized around the girl with every breath she took, and her hands were blue beneath her cloak. Her cheeks stung with numbness and her pale eyes threatened to melt from the frigid wind, but she dared not move. He had promised.

The night progressed slowly and fleeting clouds shadowed the stars overhead. Snow drifted down, settling like fairy dust on her hair and cloak. The flakes clumped together thicker and heavier, but still she would not move. She could not. He had promised to come.

The full moon touched the earth at the horizon, sending its last rays of pale silver over the world. Already the eastern sky was lightening and the birds were beginning to awaken. Yet still she remained, upright and immovable. He had promised to come rescue her.

The sun arose in its splendor, warming the earth from its chill. Fresh and pure after its nighttime sleep, the earth awoke. People began to stir to life for another day.

Yet deep in the forest, a red maple stood frozen over in the midst of black columns. Its bright leaves still clung to its branches even through the weight of deathly snow. He had promised… 
©Melody 2012

Composer (Guest Post)

i’m a novelist.

it’s one of those things that slightly mandates my life, particularly during the month of November.

November is National Novel Writing Month. affectionately known to the writer world as the start of nanowrimo.

it is during this month that i and hundreds of other insane authours will embark upon one of the most incredible and frightening endeavours of our lifetimes.

50,000 words. 30 days. innumerable cups of coffee, endless playlists of Imogene Heap and Alex Goot, and a straight month of kissing midnight. 

one incredible novel.

or perhaps a collection of 50,000 words of ramble. it depends on how much sleep we get.

it’s this music we compose.

it’s the strangest collection of words and notes, all brought together to create one of the strangest masterpieces ever seen.

you wouldn’t think that all this stress, sleepless nights, and speed-writing would be worth anything at all.

but honestly, it’s gorgeous.

 it’s a flawless collaboration.

it leads to tears and pain and sometimes even a nightmare or two. it’s hard and full of longing.

but oh, the results.

it’s watching the birth of newness and the start of characters never once known. it’s creating magic upon the page.

time and
time and time
again.

kiss this inspiration. embrace the challenge.

write like the world is soon to end.

just pour out your soul

and write.

_________________________________________
This post was written by Rachel, a dreamy 20 year old newlywed with ink and Dr. Pepper for blood, and red velvet curtains and rose petals for a heart. She adores her amazing Savior with a passion she cannot describe. Her husband is her hero and her better half. Her family is beautiful, strong, and incredible. Her two best friends are breathtaking. Narnia is real. The wardrobe may be closed, but she will find another door. One day. Her letter to Hogwarts was lost in the mail...maybe, for her, they'll make an exception and let her take her place at the Gryffindor table under the banners of scarlet and gold. Her heart is made of red velvet curtains and sheet music, with a hint of rose petals for good measure....beating to the rhythm of Parisian streets and carriages passing atop cobblestone-paved avenues.

You can find Rachel at her blog Dramatic Elegance or at her Twitter (@souldancer1009)

Winter Girl in a Summer World

So today's the last day to enter Olivia's contest "Words for Snow," and I decided to enter. The entry can be just about any genre of art, as long as it has something to do about winter. I've written a short story (very short), which I'm going to enter (about 400 words). I call it:

Winter Girl in a Summer World

copyright Melody 2010

Closing her eyes, she could practically smell the cold, crisp iciness of a winter wind. The taste of snowflakes melting like some delicate crisp candy on her tongue was almost tangible; it could only be described as pure crystal. She could almost feel the delightfully soft and crunchy texture of snow between her fingers, reddening her skin and tingling her all the way down to her toes. The purity of the world shone bright in her mind's eye -- ground washed white in a splendor of snowflakes and healed from the burning, harsh flame of fall and the withering overwhelming heat of summer.

Summer.

The word sat in her mouth, waiting for her to embrace it like all others did. But she refused, spitting it out like a rotten apple. Why did her thoughts always have to go back to this? For that matter, why did the world always have to go back to this? Her pale face puckered into a deep grimace, and she opened her ice-blue eyes.

The scene stretched out verdant and brilliant before her, the epitome of a perfect summer's day. The sky hung sultry and sapphire over the brilliant mass of green trees, the mirrored blue of the lake, and the jeweled heads of flowers all shades of the rainbow. Everything was bright, beautiful and lush.

But not to her.

She felt the hate welling up in her again in her. It was so strong she almost sank under the weight of it. All this color, all this noise and rush and heat was too much for her. It hurt her eyes just to look at it. If only she could wish this all away -- make it always winter.

Someone had once asked her why she hated summer so much. "There has to be some kind of explanation for it - I mean nobody hates summer."

She hadn't been able to give a good explanation to the person, not one they would accept, anyways. She tried describing the delights of winter - the sights, smells and sounds that entranced her senses. Or even detailing the dreadfulness of summer - how hot, dreary, loud, and busy it was. But she was greeted only with puzzled looks and blank stares.

The dark-haired girl looked again out into the vivid green. She would never belong in this bright world with its crazy colors, noisy bugs and birds, and myriad of smells to overwhelm the senses. Only when it faded into the soft, dreamy shades of winter was she truly happy.

Her face reflected the creamy white and the pale icy blue of her favorite season... and she closed her eyes. 

(all rights reserved, please do not copy without permission)

A Story Unfolding

What with Christmas and New Year's, college break and travel plans, friends to see and relatives to remember, I have been busy as all get out.

But somewhere, in the midst of it all, inspiration's spark has been flaming brightly. I am writing as never before... stories, poems, you name it. I very much want to share my work with you all, but I don't want to jeopardize whatever future publishing ability/rights I may have.

However, I have come up with a solution. I will post small excerpts on my blog, and if you would like to read more (which I would love if you did!), you can simply email me (under "Contact Me" up in the header) and I shall send you the link for the story or work-in-progress in a google doc.

I wrote this beginning some time ago, about the time where I was involved a car accident (no one was hurt or anything, thankfully). The idea and memories took a hold of me so powerfully that I had to get it down. Only recently have I looked at it, and picked up my pen again.

You never expect it to happen. Things come up, life continues on, and yet you never expect it to happen.

It was a Monday, the day Yvette and I go to our piano class. I was thinking about my upcoming job interview, and the Bible Study we had that night. I don’t know what she was thinking about. It was silent in the car, but a companionable silence. I remember that she had a slight smile on her face, though her eyes were locked dead ahead as she drove. I looked out the window at the green trees, feeling the slight summer breeze that blew through the space at the top. It was a typical day.

You never expect an accident to happen. You never plan it into your day like you would any other thing: “Dentist Appointment at 2:00 on Wednesday, go to grocery store on Friday, have a car accident Monday at 11:00.” No.

If we knew everything that happened in our day, would we even want to begin? I think not.

Certainly, if I had known about the accident when I woke up that morning, I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed with a smile on my face and excitement in my heart. I wouldn’t have planned how Katie and I would do a sleepover that Friday, and how I was going to finally sit down and paint the roses that were wilting on my windowsill. I don’t know what I would have done had I known. Perhaps I would have just killed myself then and there.

The car hit us dead on. I can see it in my mind, clear as day, coming closer and closer and closer. I remember noting that it was a Honda Civic: sleek, classy, bright red. The person was trying to pass a slowpoke in front of them, and misjudged the distance. My sister tried to swerve, tried to scream, tried to do something to save us. And she almost succeeded. She saved me.
copyright Melody 2010

This is my current inspiration, the story that is gripping me heart and soul. I am not sure yet how it shall unfold, but it is taking shape, oh so slowly.

So, feel free to email me if you'd like to come along for the ride. But I warn you... it's not a smooth one.

Take a peek inside your journal (Guest Post)

The time was 1:00 a.m., and I was still sitting on the floor reading over every word I've ever written. Now, this is nearly 10 years worth of journaling, and as I read over all the years past, in the secret place of my heart that was recorded on paper, there was Someone who not only read my heart, but who showed me that He would turn those secret thoughts into treasure.

If you're reading this, then you know that our God knows everything about a person: hearts, minds, dreams, goals, passions. Out of these sacred things we think about, shows a loving God who not only loves, but cares.

Can I tell you something? Some of the writings I wrote in the past made no sense to me, as in, I don't remember certain things laid on my heart, or dreams I had dreamed up that I had recorded on paper. After looking over those writings, I realized that God paid attention to each one, and they came to pass. 

There were times I wrote about needing a friend. A Christian friend I could talk to and get encouragement from. There was a time I wrote about how much I wanted to write (like I am now) for Christ. Times I wrote about dreams and goals (some non-realistic) that I wanted to do one day. Some of the littlest things I had no intention of ever seeing happening. The thing was, I had completely forgotten about those desires.

I cannot say that everything I wanted to happen, happened. I'm saying that God took some insignificant dream, and used it for many ways:

one. He used it to teach me trust;
two. He blessed not only me, but others with it;
three. I was just plain blown away that He cared about those little dreams.

A few days ago while we were at an organic foods market, I was browsing around for a cheap chap stick. I could only find ones that were over $2.00 and I didn't really want to pay that much for one I would probably only use very little of. I prayed about it. It wasn't until the checkout line that I saw a lip balm under $2!

Yes, this story may seem simple and unimportant, but that's beside the point. The point is, that God cares and provides. He may not answer right away; He may not answer a "yes" at all (He does know what's best). But if you look for the little things that He does for you; the simple delights He brings your way; the small wonders, you'll be surprise later of how big they really were.

You're reading from an imperfect sinner when I say that you don't have to be a perfect person to be cared for by a wonderful God. You don't have to be a perfect person to enjoy these things. You just have to be willing to enjoy them.

This 16 year old dreamer lives an imperfect life in an imperfect world with her perfect Daddy who treats her like a princess! Amber loves her new aspiration for inspiration, and simple delights out of everyday life. Nothing brings more joy to her than to be outside when the sun goes down, letting the sweet breezes tickle each strand of hair. You can read Amber's blog, Taking Life One Step At A Time, here!

The Melody of my Life

I picked the name "Melody" as my name on the blog world for a reason. Music, inspiration, and words - that's what makes up a melody. And that's also what makes up my life.

This is my longer "About Me", which I thought you would enjoy. (It can be found by clicking on the "about me" in my header).

Also, don't forget to enter my giveaway on this post! It's ending tomorrow!

I LIKE... to think of my life as a song God is writing. I'm always looking to catch a glimpse of His illusive, ethereal melody which He has put in my heart. And I constantly try to put the unexplainable into words by my own musical compositions. 


I LOOK... for the beauty in everything, because I know that the Creator made everything to reflect His beauty in some way. And I desire to proclaim His attributes to the world!


I WRITE...  for God's glory. All my poems, my stories, my novels and my blog posts are written to reflect a little of the glory God has revealed in my life. I desire for them to be a catalyst to bring people closer to God.


I COMPOSE... to express myself. I play the piano, though I would love to play violin and guitar as well (and develop my voice). Playing on the piano is the easiest way for me to create beauty that reflects my Maker. My compositions are like dewdrops from my soul; reflecting my emotions as well as the One who composed my life.


I CAPTURE... God's creation in photography. I will admit I'm an amateur photographer, but I love to experiment, and I often will take a picture just because "it would be an awesome photograph!" I see beauty everywhere I look, and it's my desire to capture it as often as I can. (click here to see my photography blog)


I LOVE... my life. I am preparing for college, and I am holding tight to the memories and people I love. My friends, though few, are each rare jewels in my sight and God's, and I treasure them. My family is my source of support and stability, and I don't know where I'd be without them. My God is my sole satisfaction, and in Him I find boundless delight and comfort.
  

I AM... a Melody in the mouth of my Savior. I always have a song in my heart and on my lips. And I would have it no other way.

All About Books

Here are some interesting tags about books that have been floating about the blogosphere, which I have filled in my spare time. I thought you might enjoy them! Feel free to grab any you're interested in. :) 

Here's the first one:

Instructions.... Grab the nearest book and flip to page 123 and type up the first four lines (sentences). It has to be the nearest book, you can't pick one randomly... the only exception is text books :) They don't count as options in this case.

Well, the nearest book is Jane Eyre: "I should, if I had deliberated, have replied to this question by something conventionally vague and polite; but the answer somehow slipped from my tongue before I was aware-- "No, sir."

"Ah! By my word! there is something singular about you," said he: "you have the air of a little nonnette; quaint, quiet, grave, and simple, as you sit with your hands before you, and your eyes generally bent on the carpet (except, by-the-by, when they are directed piercingly to my face; as just now, for instance); and when one asks you a question, or makes a remark to which you are obliged to reply, you rap out a round rejoinder, which, if not blunt, is at least brisque. What do you mean by it?"

The Second One: (This one's a long one!)

Top 3 authors:

1. L. M. Montgomery

2. C. S. Lewis

3. J. R. R. Tolkein

Top 3 male characters: 

1. Frodo & Sam from The Lord of the Rings (I just love those hobbits!)

2. Gilbert Blythe from the Anne of Green Gables books (he loves Anne so much and yet she won't see it!)

3. Sir Percy Blakeny from The Scarlet Pimpernel (love him both as Sir Percy and as the Scarlet Pimpernel)

Top 3 female characters:

1. Beauty from Beauty by Robin McKinley

2. Elizabeth from Pride and Prejudice

3. Anna from my story Rescue My Heart (yes, I have to admit, I love a character I made up. After all, she is very similar to me!)

Top 30 fiction books in no particular order: 

1. The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

2.The Chronicles of Narnia (especially The Horse and His Boy) by C. S. Lewis

3. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury

4. The Last Sin-Eater by Francine Rivers

5. Beauty by Robin Mckinley

6. Emily of New Moon series (especially Emily's Quest) by L. M. Montgomery

7. Inkheart by Cornelia Funke

8. Wild Rose by Ruth Axtel Morren

9. Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo

10. Turn Not Pale Beloved Snail by Jacqueline Jackson

11.The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge

12. Watership Down by Richard Adams

13. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

14. The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baronness Orczy

15. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens

16. The City of Ember by Jeanne DuPrau

17. Redwall by Brian Jacques

18. Mossflower by Brian Jacques (I love all of the Redwall books, but these are my two favorites)

19. Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

20. At Home in Mitford series by Jan Karen

21. Love Comes Softly by Janette Oke

22. The Tender Years by Janette Oke

23. A Gown of Spanish Lace by Janette Oke

24. The Blue Castle by L. M. Montgomery

25. Lady of the River by Dianna Crawford

26. Kilmeny of the Orchard by L. M. Montgomery

27. Return to Gone-Away by Elizabeth Enright

28. The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R King

29. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

30. Regina Silsby's Secret War by Thomas J Brodeur

Top 3 books most recently read:

1. Jane Eyre

2. Do Hard Things

3. The Book Thief

Worst 3 books ever read: (please don't read any of these! They are truly horrible)

1. A Monstrous Regiment of Women by Laurie R. King (the sequel to A Beekeeper's Apprentice). The name alone should scare you away! :P

2. Sophie's World: A Novel about the History of Philosophy by Jostein Gaardner

3. Summer of the Swans (just kind of boring and dumb, in my opinion)

Top 5 scenes from any book:

1. The scene from Inkheart where Meggie is reading the book for Capricorn and his men to release the shadow. (I love how they did this in the movie!)

2. In Regina Silsby's Secret War, the scene where Rachel is playing the organ as Regina Silsby.

3. In The Last Sin-Eater, when Cadi and Fagan are running for their lives up the mountain and God sends a mist to cover their tracks.

4. In The Scarlet Pimpernel when Sir Percy and Lady Blakeney want to talk to each other and confide in each other so badly, but they both are restrained by their pride. It's just so sad and sweet! :(

5. In The Lord of the Rings, when Frodo and Sam are together at the end of all things.

The book(s) that made me cry the most:

1. The Lord of the Rings by J.R.R. Tolkien

2. The Last Sin-Eater by Francine Rivers

3.The Blue Castle by L. M. Montgomery

4. Watership Down by Richard Adams

5. The Scarlet Pimpernel by Baronness Orczy 

6. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

7. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

The books that made me laugh the most:

1. At Home In Mitford (and other books in the series) by Jan Karen. The situations are too funny!

2. The Redwall books by Brian Jacques

3.Watership Down by Richard Adams (love this book!)

4. The Four-Story Mistake, and Return to Gone-Away by Elizabeth Enright

The books that made me feel the best at the end:

1. The Lord of the Rings by Tolkien (though it is so sad!)

2.The Last Sin-Eater (one of my favorite books ever!)

3. The Blue Castle by L. M. Montgomery

4. The Last Battle by C. S. Lewis (because they're all finally in Narnia and with Aslan forever!)

5.The Little White Horse by Elizabeth Goudge

6. Kilmeny of the Orchard by L. M. Montgomery

Contemporary or Historical?

I love both, though perhaps Historical a little bit more. :)

Science Fiction, Fantasy, or Horror?

Fantasy, definitely. I don't like horror at all, and I like only a few Science Fiction books.

Hardback or Trade Paperback or Mass Market Paperback?

It doesn't really matter to me I guess. I mostly have paperbacks.

Barnes & Noble or Amazon?

Hard to say - Barnes & Noble has some pretty awesome journals, but Amazon is really easy to order from. :)

Bookmark or Dog-ear?

Well, I tend to dog-ear unless I have a bookmark handy (yes, I'm bad, I know).

Alphabetize by author, alphabetize by title, or organize not at all?

In my room, I organize by how much I like the book. The books closest to the middle of the bookshelf are my favorites.I to try to keep books by the same author together, though. ;)

Keep, Throw Away, or Sell?

Keep, unless it's a book I already have, then give away/sell.

Keep dust-jacket or toss it?

Haha I never thought of tossing the dust-jacket!

Read with dustjacket or remove it?

Though it's annoying, I usually keep it because I thought that's just what you do. 

Little Women or Anne of Green Gables?

Ann of Green Gables. I love L. M. Montgomery's writing style!

Short story or novel?

Usually novel. Though I have found a few short stories that I absolutely love.

Stop reading when tired or at chapter breaks?

At chapter breaks. That's the only way I can force myself to put down the book!

“It was a dark and stormy night” or “Once upon a time”?

Probably "it was a dark and stormy night," because that promises a slightly deeper book than "once upon a time." ;)

Tear Jerker or Belly Laugh?

Tear Jerker.

Buy or Borrow?

I usually borrow a book from the library or from a friend first, then buy it if it's really good.

Buying choice: Book Reviews, Recommendation, or Browse?

I usually only buy books that I've read before, unless I'm at a garage sale or something where they're really cheap.

Collection (short stories by the same author) or Anthology (short stories by different authors)?

Either one!

Standalone or Series?

I kinda prefer standalone, unless I really love the author's style of writing.

Tidy ending or Cliffhanger?

Definitely tidy ending. I hate it when a story ends with a cliffhanger or a kind of wishy-washy ending. :P

Morning reading, afternoon reading, or nighttime reading?

I usually read while I eat breakfast and lunch, and sometimes before bed. It just depends if I'm really into a story or not.

Favorite genre series?

(I take it this means your favorite series from your favorite genre.) Have to say Lord of the Rings.

New or used?

Just depends. I usually buy my books used, though it's nice to have them new!

Favorite book of which nobody else has heard?

Regina Silsby's Secret War by Thomas J Brodeur. It's really good, too, you should definitely check it out! :)

And the last one: 
Name 12 Characters and then answer the questions:

1. Anna (from my story Rescue My Heart)

2. Frodo (LotR)

3. Sam (LotR)

4. Jane Eyre

5. Lucy (Narnia)

6. Edmund (Narnia)
7. Sir Percy (The Scarlet Pimpernel)

8. Meggie (Inkheart)

9. Capricorn (Inkheart)

10. Mr. Darcy (Pride & Prejudice)

11. Elizabeth (Pride & Prejudice)

12. Emily (Emily of New Moon)

1. Who would make a better collage prof, 6 or 11?
Well, probably Edmund. Though I don't doubt Elizabeth would have a sharp enough mind (and wit)!

2. Do you think #2 is nice?

Yes. :) It's so sad that the ring basically destroys his life.

3. 12 sends 8 out on a mission. What is it? Does it succeed?
Hmmm... interesting. Emily sends Meggie on a mission. Perhaps she sends her on a mission to get more paper for her... and Meggie just writes some into existence. ;)

4. What is or what would be 9's favorite book?
Now this I'm not sure of, but one thing I do know - he despises the book Inkheart. ;)

5. Would it make more sense for 2 to swear fealty to 6, or the other way around?
Frodo swearing fealty to Edmund... now this is an interesting thought. 

6. For some reason, 5 is looking for a roommate. Should (s)he room with 9 or 10?
Innocent little Lucy isn't going to room with either Capricorn or Mr. Darcy!

7. 3, 7 and 12 are going out to dinner. Where do they go and what do they discuss?

Sam, Sir Percy, and Emily. Hmmm... Sir Percy would probably be the one to pick the place, as he is the most talkative and decisive of the three (and he'd probably pick somewhere fancy). Sam probably would be too nervous to talk about anything, Sir Percy would be acting affected and foppish, and Emily would probably be writing down her thoughts about them in her journal. Altogether a very interesting scene. ;) 

8. #3 challenges #10 to a duel, who wins?

Sam challenges Mr. Darcy to a duel. Sorry Sam, but Mr. Darcy has quite the advantage over you with height, I'm afraid. ;)

9. If 1 stole 8's most precious possession, how would (s)he get it back?
 Anna would never steal anything from Meggie! They're both nice, sweet girls who probably would become friends since they have so much in common. (And they really do have a lot in common. Their stories are surprisingly similar!)

10. Suggest a story title in which 7 and 12 both attain what they desire.
Hmmm... how about: "Acceptance For Who You Really Are" (haha sounds like a self-help book. I'm horrible with titles!)

11. What kind of plot device would you have to use if you wanted 1 and 4 to work together?
Anna and Jane Eyre working together... that probably wouldn't be too hard as long as they both understood how the other person liked to work.  

12. If 7 visited you for the weekend, how would it go?

Well, that would be interesting indeed to have Sir Percy over for the weekend! I think I would be rather intimidated by him. :P

13. If you could command 3 to perform any service or task for you, what would it be?

Oh, good old Sam. I'd ask him to please come into one of my novels so I can write a wonderful character like him. 

14. Does 11 like to write or draw?
Elizabeth Bennet isn't very fond of either, I don't think, though she does "tolerably well" at both. :)

15. If 2 had to choose sides between 4 and 5, what side would (s)he choose?
So if Frodo had to chose sides between Jane Eyre and Lucy... I think he would probably chose Lucy. They have some similarities. ;)

16. What might 10 shout out while charging into battle?

Mr. Darcy charging into battle - now that's a new one! He'd probably shout "What's going ooooonnnn??" ;)
 
17. If you had to choose a song to best describe 8, what would it be?
Aw... probably Vanilla Twilight (for Meggie's relationship with her mom). 

18. What would be a good pickup line for 2 to say to 10?
Well, if they were actually going to duel like one of the other questions said, Frodo would say, "What big sword you have, Mr. Darcy!"

19. What would 5 most likely be arrested for?
LUCY??? ARRESTED??? Well, only if it was for doing what is right.

20. If 11 and 9 were racing to a destination, who would get there first?

This would be a very interesting scene. Capricorn would probably get there first, because he would do something to hinder Elizabeth. 

21. What is the lowest point of 1's story?

For Anna? Like... the whole story. :P (And for those of you who are reading it, I don't want to give anything away!)

22. 1 and 9 reluctantly team up to save the world from the threat posed by 4's sinister secret organization. 11 volunteers to help them, but it is later discovered that s/he is actually a spy for 4. Meanwhile, 4 has kidnapped 12 in an attempt to force their surrender. Following the wise advice of 5, they seek out 3, who gives them what they need to complete their quest. What title would you give this fic?
Okay, so let me get this straight:  Anna & Capricorn team up (unlikely!) to save the world from Jane Eyre's secret organization (haha!). Elizabeth Bennet volunteers to help them, but is discovered to be Jane Eyre's spy. Jane Eyre kidnaps Emily to force their surrender. Following the wise advice of Lucy, they seek out Sam, who gives them what they need to complete the quest. 
Haha! I would call it "In Cahoots with Jane Eyre"

This was a ton of fun to fill out, and I hope you had fun reading it! :D

Writing, Awards, and Sweet Friends

Caroline over at A Writer's Life For Me  is hosting something similar to NaNoWriMo: a 30,000 Words in 30 days challenge! Basically, like NaNoWriMo, you try to write 30,000 words in the month of June. But you can write in any story - one in progress, one you need to start, one you need to finish... whatever. Just write 30,000 words!

So what are you waiting for? Go on over and join up! This is the perfect opportunity for all you writers out there who (like me) need a bit more of a push to get started writing. I can't wait for it to begin - I only wish it started now because I'm feeling inspiration hitting me like the rush from a rollercoaster. ;)

Also, I want to shout out a HUGE thank-you to all of you who prayed for me about my Clep Test and who commented on my last post. I was touched by all of your sweet, uplifting comments, and encouragement for me. So I want to award all of you this sweet award I received from Ivorydancer and Lindsay. You are all very sweet friends! :)

The rules:

Tag at least five 'sweet friends,' on Blogger
Answer the tag (below) in your post
You may tag the person who gave you this award
Don't forget to comment on the post that awarded you! 

Now the tag....
You are _______ in your family. I am the oldest, and only girl.

Do you have your own camera? Yes, one that my friend gave me. :)

List three of your character qualities: Creative, indecisive, compassionate

What is your favorite thing to blog about? Analogies that I find in everyday life that relate to God & His Word.

How long have you had your blog? Since last October... so almost eight months!

I also would like to give out the Sunshine Award, which I received from Jessica. I tag any of you who have not received this award yet. All of my readers spread sunshine to me with your comments! :)

Rules:

1. Post the logo on your blog and/or within the post.
2. Pass it on to 12 other bloggers.
3. Add links to these 12 bloggers within your blog.
4. Let them know they are receiving the award.
5. Share the link of the person from whom you received the award.

I hope you all have a beautiful day, my friends. Oh, and keep an eye out for a new look on my blog soon - the makeover is almost done! :D

I'd like you to meet...

I have a good friend I'd like you all to meet. Her name is Rosandra Seams, and actually she is a character in a book I'm writing with my (real life) good friend Violet. I asked her some questions about herself the other day, and I really got to know a lot more about her character. I thought you might enjoy getting to know her better. My questions are in bold, and her answers are underneath. (Note: please read this post if you aren't familiar with the story).


So, Rosandra, tell me about yourself. What's the most interesting thing about you?
Interesting? Well... [fidgets with hair], I'm not that interesting of a person, actually. I think I've lived a fairly normal life... at least up until now.

What has changed to make your life different?
Well... Diana moving in to our home has certainly been... a challenge. It's been hard for me to adjust to her and all her... needs. But please, let's not talk about her; I'm sure you have other questions for me.

Of course. Tell me a little bit about your family. What's special about each of them and how to you relate to them?
My brothers Kevin and Titus are typical boys, as most boys go. They're quite nice, actually, though I don't spend a whole lot of time with them. They're usually off together doing some boyish thing. My mom - she's special because she's so sweet. She always looks for the good in others. She's my treasure-bank of advice for all the tasks I have to do or the proper etiquette for a certain place. And she's very forebearing and long-suffering. Though she is not very strong, she always has a smile and a kind word. And my dad is special because he spends time with us. In the evenings, we all sit around the fire with him and he reads stories or the Bible or tells us about his day. I'm glad we are as close as we are.

What does a typical day look like for you?
Well, I usually rise early and help get breakfast on the table. I have various duties throughout the day (mostly supervising or directing the servants), as well as lessons. My mother is teaching me different skills such as needlework, knitting, sewing, and art. I also have a tutor once a week who drills me in different subjects in the humanities. It's not often that I have spare time during the day, but I don't mind it that much.

Do you have any hobbies?
Oh, I do love to go horseback riding when I can get the chance, and I enjoy composing small verses or pieces of prose.

What are your spiritual beliefs?
You mean what religion am I? My family and I are Christians, naturally. We go to church every Sunday, and often have devotions in the evening.

What is one thing you wish for more than anything else?
That's rather a strange question... I don't think I'm very dissatisfied with my life where it's at. [pauses] Well... I guess with Diana coming and all, I do wish that she wouldn't be so cold to me - that maybe we could be good friends like we had been before.

Would you still consider Diana to be a good friend?
Well of course. Though she's not the same as before, she still is my friend. I can see that she's hurting, and may take a long time to heal from the death of her family. So I'm just trying to do my part to support her in this process, as best I can. I really do care about her, deeply! It's just hard - because she doesn't seem to want to talk to me anymore.

So there's no hard feelings between you?
Of course not! I just don't understand her... and I try to overlook any hurt she might unintentionally cause.

Alright, let's get back to talking about you.
Thank-you.

Can you remember a time when you felt extremely happy? Can you describe that time?
Extremely happy? I.. I can't really recall any extreme happiness. My life has been a blessed one, it's true, but there have been few extremes.

So no low points then, either?
None that I can recall. I try to take things in stride, regardless.

What are your dreams and goals for your future?
I am being prepared to be a wife and mother, to be able to run my own household someday. I don't have much of a prospect with drawing, sewing or the like, for I am only adequate in those areas. I do love to write, though... perhaps one day I shall write a full-fledged novel, or have my poetry published. [pauses] As for dreams... I've sometimes wished my life was a little more adventurous - tinged with mystery and romance like the novels I love to read. But of course that's just a wish, and a silly one at that.

What character qualities do you most admire, and wish to have?
I admire those who are carefree and confident, who know what they want to do or say, and do it. I can be decisive when I'm deciding what to make for dinner, of course, but it's harder when I'm trying to relate to people. I often wish to have more boldness to show how I really care about others.

How do you think others view you? Do you care what their opinion is of you?
I'm more reserved when I'm out and about, especially at balls and parties and such. So they probably see me as the homebody, the shy wallflower. And I guess... I'm pretty comfortable with that. 

What is your greatest achievement?
Well, like I said before, there's not a whole lot that's gone on in my life.
[I interjected here: surely there's something, though!] Well... it was a big achievement to take over the running of the household. Especially since I was only 13 at the time. It was a rather scary time for me, as I had to take things over without exactly knowing how they ran. My mother was such a help to me, though she was ill herself.  

What is your greatest regret?
My greatest regret? I regret so many things... I wish I was bolder so I could say the things I really want to say to people. Each time I don't, I regret it. 

What has been the most important event of your life (so far)? 
[sighs exasperatedly] I keep telling you - my life hasn't been that interesting!  

What are three words you would use to describe yourself?
This is always so hard... I guess I would say: hardworking, caring, loyal. 

What about three words to describe Diana?
I don't know. Right now I feel like I don't know anything about her, so I would only be able to describe her as mysterious and withdrawn. 

What part of your life is the most enjoyable to you - gives you the most fulfillment?
Um, let me think on this one... [pauses] Well, it's always fulfilling to go to bed knowing everything ran smoothly and the jobs were all well-done. It's a good feeling being able to live up to the standard that's set before me. But I do often wonder if there's something more.   

So you enjoy having people depending on you?
Well, yes. I really do love to help, and to know that I am a help to others. I've always had that feeling when people come to me with their problems that I've got to solve them somehow. And I've always worried that there will come a time when I won't be needed... that there will be no one who depends on me.
But I am feeling a little overwhelmed right now with all the obligations to all these different people I'm having to fulfill. Maybe it's just all the unknown, unmet expectations with Diana that's got me on edge. I'm sure it will blow over, though. Things will go back to normal. They always do.  


Well, there you have it. What do you think of Rosandra? How would you describe her character, based on the replies she gave me? Do you think there's anything she's not telling me? Would you like her if you met her?

If you would like to read Rosandra & Diana's story (which is still in progress), Violet and I have it up on a private blog. Send me a comment with your email address (which I won't post), and I will invite you to read the blog.

To the Brides of Christ

Violet at All For The Love Of Chaos posted this beautiful essay she has written. It is called, "The Window of Your Heart" and she wrote it specifically for Christian girls... the brides of Christ. It is one of the most beautiful things I have read about Christ's love for His own.
 

The Window of Your Heart

You sit there, against that Wailing Wall of your room, wondering if you are ever going to make it though this mess they call Life. Everywhere you turn someone puts you down, and the tears that stain your heart mark the pain and the burden of your rejection. Love… you are yearning for love.

But wait! Hope is coming like the Spring’s beauty after Winter’s frost. You have not been abandoned, you are not alone. There is a Lover who pursues you, and longs for you to notice Him. He is waiting.

He loves you so much that he knocks at the door of your heart, and stands in line patiently with the others. He longs for you to pick him & invite Him into your heart, and His heart shatters each time you choose someone or something else to be the love of your life.

He loves you so much He puts His strongest, fastest angels to take care of you, and watches your every move. Tears spring to His eyes when you don’t accept His angel’s help and protection, and instead accept the strength of some mortal protector, who, in the end, cannot shield you from the Enemy’s attacks.

He loves you so much He wants to give you the whole world and He does. He gives you the moon, and the stars, and lies in the grass with you, pointing out every little point of light, His heart soaring because you like it. He took so long to paint the sky so it would be beautiful for you, hoping, knowing, that it would touch your heart.

Flowers? He loves you so much He brings you flowers, millions of flowers, and shows you his sense of humor by bringing them even in the form of dandelions or ragweed. He beautifully packages His flowers in colors of green and yellow and red and purple, orange, pink, blue, white… all the colors of the rainbow. He knows you love them, and they are labeled “From your Secret Admirer. You’ve always longed for a Secret Admirer, someone who pursued you because you were beautiful, alluring, lovely… well, you do.

He is so much in love with you that he doesn’t care about your past. He gets down on His knees and begs you: “I love you, I have loved you for as long as I remember. Please tell me that you love me,” He pleads.

He is valiant. He fights the demons that hold you, the addictions, the obsessions, the sin that has you in chains, a phantom of fear cast around your heart. He hears your screams to be rescued, loves you so much to throw Himself at the dragon and fight for you. He could have left you to die, there are other girls who are easier to come by, who would love it if He even gave them a glance. But no… He gave them up for you. He loves you, and will go to all lengths, all risks, to get you, to prove to you His love.

He is close, and sensitive, embracing you when your heart weeps, when your life breaks apart into a million pieces. He carries you when you get scared in the storm, and comes looking for you, crying out your name, when the hurricane of your thinking separates you. He tears up about your pain when you open up to him, and with gentle hands He heals you.

He is thoughtful. In the morning He wakes you softly with the rays of the sun and the melodious songs of birds. He whispers you good morning and kisses you with the soft breeze coming in through the open window. Even on a gloomy day he has a special surprise only for your heart to know and understand. He tells you of His plans, of His purpose, and how much He desires to be with you within the pages of His love letters to you. And He is downcast and so dejected when you pass up reading His words to you for some other book or method of leisure. You allow someone or something else to romance and allure your heart, and it brings tears to His eyes and pain to His heart. He knows how weak that someone or something is, and how weak you are.

He cries out to you, longs for you to look at Him. But your gaze is fixed on someone else. The Enemy. The Enemy has captured the gaze of His beloved.

He loves you so much that He waits, even though you left Him. When you realize that the Enemy’s tune-less murmur in your ear is taking you away from He who cherishes you, you will cry out to Him. He will valiantly rescue you again. He loves you so much He will throw thousands of angels up against the Enemy, only to get you back. And he loves you so much, he will rescue you again, and again, and again, and again. Nothing you can do will make Him get angry with you enough to leave you. And He will never let the Enemy harm you. He will not leave you, He will not desert you. Although you might reject Him, He will wait patiently, pursuing your heart until you return to his arms, safe once more.

But He does not wait motionless; no. Every single moment you are away, in the Enemy’s lair, he is resless. He calls for you, runs to you, trying to make you notice Him. He does not rest until you are rescued, safe. He pleads with you, begs you, trying to gently tell you that the way you are going leads to destruction, and heartache. His heart breaks when you let the Enemy plug your ears. He screams in anguish when you let the Enemy lead you, knowing it is towards Destruction.

“Take anything else!” He cries. “Take anything else! My home, my creation, my crown, even myself, if only you would spare my beloved! Take me instead, not her! Please!”

He loves you so much He ran into the land of Shadow to bring you out. The Enemy tied Him up with the chains destined for you. He was blamed for your addictions; He felt the pain of your abuse; He cried out when the burden of your sin was thrown upon him, wrung around His throat. He looked at you, His starry eyes tearing, as His Enemy pushed Him into the abyss, instead of you.

He loves you so much he took your past from you: your impurity, your abuse, your pain, your ugliness, your infliction, your depression, your loss, your disability, your weakness, your arrogance, your ignorance, your poverty, your nakedness, your embarrassment, your unloveableness, your scorn, your hurt, and ultimately, ultimately… your brokenness.

But… He is powerful. He is strong. So powerful, He defeated the Enemy. He defeated your sin! No longer does the Enemy’s lairs have power over you. Your addictions have been taken away from you… you are free! Your anger has been vanquished… Smile: you are free! You are whole, perfect, pure- the scars of abuse have been taken away… you are free! The traces of darkness, ugliness and depression have been washed away… He is victorious; rejoice! You are free! The loss, the wounds of that which was ripped away from you by Death, by Poverty… by the forces of the Enemy, are restored… You are free!

And He runs, galliantly, towards you, arms open wide, ready to accept you into them. Tears streaming joyfully down His face, the light and beauty of His Kingdom filling the defeated darkness of the Enemy, He throws you up into the air, and catches you, embracing you. Finally you are together, free. And when you are with Him, you are who you were made to be. He completes you.

Hand in hand He walks you down a glorious path in the woods. Butterflies, wild flowers, a shimmering brook rushing over smooth rocks and stones and cascading over them into a deliciously cool pond… Rabbits scamper as you swim and bask in the sunlight.

Then He pulls you up, out of the Valleys and into the Clouds. Up over the trees and into the mountains. The sunset sets the rocks afire. A warm, crackling campfire, roasting marshmallows and hot dogs and talking softly… You lean your head against His chest and even the chill of the starry night air can't get to you, because He is holding you. With Him, you are whole. You are free. 

He shows you many things, talks to you. And He wants you to talk to Him, about everything. He wants you to let Him know you.

When you feel alone, head in your hands, back against a wall, He comes walking up the aisle with His hands shoved in His pockets. He gives you a small smile and squats next to you, eyes searching, asking you to tell Him what is wrong.

When you are happy, rejoicing over an accomplishment, He throws you a party. He breaks out a grin and invites all of your friends. “Look how fantastic she is… I don’t know what I’d do without her!” He exclaims.

When you are stressed, and cant seem to get anything right, His arms embrace your world and your heart, and just holds you. In His hands, you will be safe, and your heart will be healed. Your pain will soon go away, and in His hands you will be healed.

When the end seems to come too soon…
When you feel as if life is not worth living…
When you cant cope…
When you feel sick, or alone, or ugly…
When you cant do anything right…

He’s waiting. He’s longing for your voice. Restless He waits. In His hands He can heal. In His hands he can free.

When life is going right…
When you are encouraged…
When you are victorious…
When you look in the mirror and you are beautiful, and radiant…

He wants to know. He is waiting to rejoice with you. He’s the first one to pop open a bottle of champagne. He’s the first one with the party hat on. He dances with you.

You see, He wants you. Just like you want Him. He could do it without you, of course, but He loves you so much, there’s a special ache in His heart for you, that only you can fill.

He would look awkward dancing by Himself. You make the dance glorious, beautiful, graceful, and purposeful. He loves you, and you love Him. You are one. He would look strong paddling a canoe in the rapids alone. But with you… it looks like an adventure. A team. A fight between fear and valor. You help Him. He could do it alone, but together… ah, He would only do it with you. 

He shows you the sights, the smells, the sounds… together… you are one.

He loves you so much. He longs for you to love Him back. He throws pebbles at the window of your heart.

Wake up and let Him in…

Beloved.