A Few Good Books Reviewed

Hello Thursday Morning!

It’s been a while. So much has happened since last I posted. My husband of almost forty-six years went to the doctor with chest pain and a few weeks later, underwent a multiple-bypass surgery.

He did very well and thankfully, I was able to remain with him during his three days in the ICU and three more in the cardiac ward. Only six days total sounds like a miracle to me but bringing him home presented new challenges. However, God is good and rich in mercy. My husband is now recovering nicely and itching to get back to a more normal life. He prefers to be in the driver’s seat.

Life as a chauffeur to numerous doctor visits translates into more time for me to read (like the chauffeur in Sabrina who originally took the job to have more time to read).

I read three books, which is more than I’ve read in a year. I’ve written short reviews for all three.

The Captured Bride by Michele Griep

Historical fiction, upstate New York, 1759

I knew I was going to like this book from the first moment I picked it up. It’s been on my TBR pile for nearly two years since I bought it when it first came out. Anyone who has ever read a Michele Griep book will not be disappointed.

What I liked most: The prose. Michele Griep is an artist who paints “wordscapes.” Her scenes are rich and vibrant. I often took the time to reread a scene because it was so beautifully written.

What I liked the least: Some of the scenes were so gut-wrenching and action-packed, I wanted to chew my nails. I couldn’t set it down but had to know what happened next.

In a nutshell: I highly recommend this book, especially if you are a fan of historical fiction. The research is spot-on but not overdone, so there are no info-dumps, just richly written scenes. I loved the colorful characters, too.

One thing that drew me to this story, in the beginning, is the setting. My husband’s family is from Upstate New York. I’ve visited there, so I was familiar with many of the landmarks and rivers named in this novel.

Breaking Point by Marji Laine

Mystery, romantic suspense.

This is another one I grabbed as soon as it was released. I had started reading it but life got in the way. It’s the second book in the Heath’s Point Suspense series. I haven’t read the first book but that didn’t harm the story. However, now that I’ve read book two, I definitely want to read the first one.

What I liked most:  The author has a good handle on writing this genre. The suspense remained taut throughout.

What I liked the least: What I would like to say would be a spoiler, so I’ll just say I was a little frustrated at times with the main character. She was not at all what she seemed in the beginning (a good thing because I didn’t like her). Sometimes we are too quick to judge, however. Once I knew a little more about her past, I better understood her life decisions.

In a nutshell: If you love romantic suspense and big, crazy families, you will like this book. My recommendation would be to start with Book I Counter Point. The action level is high, so they make a quick read.

The Cowboys, Jennifer Uhlarik, Linda W. Yezak, Cindy Ervin Huff, and Sandra Merville Hart

The Cowboys is a Western collection of novellas. I’ve been a fan of western fiction since my childhood, so this book kind of felt like that chocolate bar you keep hidden on the top shelf in the pantry. Author Linda W. Yezak was the main reason I bought it, but the other three did not disappoint. I loved all four stories and would have a difficult time choosing my favorite.

What I liked most: The length. Each novella-length story is a breeze to read, especially since I loved all the characters.

What I liked the least: The length. I could easily have read more about each of these. I’d arrive at the end and think, “already?”

In a nutshell: I whole-heartedly recommend this collection of novellas, especially if you are a big fan of western historical romance. If you’ve never read it before, this is a great way to try it on for size. It’s also a great way to try out new authors. These four are quite talented and well able to stand on their own, which makes this collection worth so much more. This one goes on my reread shelf (kind of like that secret stash of chocolate—shh! Don’t tell my husband!).

Buy Links:

The Captured Bride

Breaking Point

The Cowboys

Tight Fisted

Have you ever heard the term, “tight-fisted”?

I always understood it to mean someone was selfish or cheap or mean, who tight-fisted their money, and kept everything for themselves. Big brother used to do that with treats. Whenever we were given a gift of candy or other treats, he would hold onto his until little brother and I had eaten all of ours. Then he would take his out and begin to eat it with great gusto, refusing to share even a crumb.

Today I was cleaning out a drawer (I call it the scary drawer because it’s been so long since I’ve cleaned it). I found a handwritten note in there. Something I’d jotted down a long, long time ago.

It said:

Form a tight fist and hold it under running water. Watch the water cascade over your fist.

Now open your hand and cup your palm. Place it under the water. What happens?

It holds water. My point? Let go of what you’re holding onto so tightly, whether it’s pain or hard feelings or past regrets. Forgive the ones who have hurt you. Forgive yourself for past failures. Open your heart. Because an open heart holds more than a tightly closed one.

It kind of sounds like a Sunday School lesson, doesn’t it? Maybe it was. I’ve long since forgotten. But the message, though simple is still true.

This has been an interesting year for all of us and it ain’t over yet. 🙂

My advice to you is to greet life with an open heart and open hand. Readily forgive so that you will also be forgiven. Be kind whenever possible and speak the truth in love.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. 1 John 4:7-8

 

What a Sparrow Taught Me

Hello, Thursday Morning readers. Thanks for stopping by. I hope you’ll join me in a cup of coffee (or whatever you prefer). I am feeling thankful today.

A couple of weeks ago, several members of my family came down with “the virus.” I have to tell you, I was afraid. Mostly because of all I’d heard.

I prayed for them, but it was difficult not to worry, especially when I couldn’t be there. I’m really good at wringing my hands and pacing the floor. Does God hear?

I’m often like the father of a child who answered Jesus, “I believe; help my unbelief,” (Mark 9:24). I used to think that was funny. Now I know it’s honest. I do believe, but sometimes I doubt. Help me, Jesus, when I doubt.

I trust Him, but I’ve been through losses, too. Fear is our greatest enemy and the media is feeding the fear.

I was in the midst of this when on a Tuesday morning before I went to work, I heard a bird hit the French doors. It happens all the time. I hated to look out there, afraid I’d see it dead.

It was a sparrow. There it was, sitting on the patio, its little head lolled to the side. Poor little thing had most likely broken its neck. I knew it would probably die.

And then, I remembered…

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? And not one of them is forgotten before God. – Luke 12:6 ESV

God knows when every sparrow falls, so I reached my hand out and prayed, “Father, I know you saw that. Please heal this little bird, or set it free so it will not suffer.”

I checked on it several times and it was still sitting there. I had my back to the door when I heard a tiny noise and turned around to look. That bird was sitting on the wood base of the door, pecking at the glass!

I went over and knelt down on the floor, shaking my head. “Hi precious,” I spoke from my side of the window. It perched there, looking at me for a few more seconds and then flew away.

Tears stung my eyes. I really believe God healed the sparrow, and that little bird wanted to let me know it was all right.

True story.

This was an important and relevant message for me at a time when fear gripped my heart. I wondered if God heard my prayers.

He does hear when we pray and He let me know that day, through a tiny sparrow.

Click to Tweet: I’m often like the father of a child who answered Jesus, “I believe; help my unbelief,” (Mark 9:24). I used to think that was funny. Now I know it’s honest. I do believe, but sometimes I doubt. Help me, Jesus, when I doubt.

“His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me…”

Slow Down and Learn to Love

Slowing down has given me time to read. I’ve enjoyed reading a couple of good books lately. Haven’t done that in a while.

I’ve also had time to take advantage of some great online courses via the Kentucky Christian Writers Conference.

I took part in the conference and contrary to my preconceived notions about online conferences, enjoyed it very much. I recognized familiar faces. I heard every moment of each session. If I missed something, I knew I could go back and listen to it again.

So, in the last few days, I’ve been writing again. I have to confess, I had almost lost heart.

There is so much going on in the world right now to distract me.

Then I discovered a beautiful truth buried among all the distractions. A TV remote with a red “off” button. I pressed it. Voila!

Peace. Tranquility.

However, I also found that my heart and soul had been injured by what my eyes had seen and my ears had heard, so I took refuge in the Word of God. I studied the first epistle of John, so pertinent right now.

For this is the message that you have heard from the beginning, that we should love one another. – 1 John 3:11

Was I playing the ostrich, head-in-the-sand, avoiding the world’s troubles?

I think not. I was giving myself the chance to grow stronger so that whatever lies ahead, I can face it from a position of strength.

And maybe I can do something to help.

Sometimes the best way I can help is to be kind. Show love. I have to confess, I am not colorblind, neither do I want to be. I love all the different shades. Each one has beauty and purpose (Read Acts 17:26-28). We won’t always understand. We can’t possibly walk in someone else’s skin. What we can do is acknowledge, appreciate, and love them for who they are.

This is the message of 1 John: Perfect love originates with the Creator, Who asks only that we believe and love what He has created.

Times are changing, so quickly, it’s hard to keep up. Many of us are fearful and wondering what the future holds. Trust, in times like these, is difficult but not impossible. John talked about that, too. There is no fear in love. Perfect love casts out fear.

The only perfect love comes from God. He loved us so much, he gave the greatest gift of all—His Son. He laid down His life for us.

By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us, and we ought to lay down our lives for the brothers. But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth. – 1 John 3:16-18

 

A Writer Writes

Hello Thursday Mornings memeIn my world, everyone is a writer. Or so it seems. My life before writing…hmm, I’m not sure I remember that.

A writer’s life can easily become consumed by writing. Real-life beckons. I raise my bloodshot eyes from the computer screen as my child wails about something.

“No milk for your cereal? Sorry, mommy has a deadline. Eat it dry.”

“What? Charlie’s mom cooks breakfast every morning?” For a moment, I hesitate, my fingers poised above the keyboard. “Ah, that would make a great addition to this story–a supermom character who becomes the victim of a serial killer. Thanks, love. Now, eat your dry cereal.”

I’m being silly, but if you’re a writer, you may recognize this scene. We do tend to get lost in our stories, whether we’re writing true life or making stuff up. Life is what happens all around us and those experiences end up in our prose. We hope our readers will love it. If they don’t, oh well. Can’t stop writing!

I don’t have children at home anymore, so I’m not ignoring anyone as I write. I’m following the muse in my head and trying to stay somewhere close to my original plot. My little interruptions tend to be the dryer buzzer or the oven timer or a bird hitting the window (that one happens more often than I’d like).

flower-2989995_1280These days, sunshine streaming through the window teases me until I give it my total attention and wander out into the beautiful day. You have to experience it because summer ends, the flowers fade and winter descends. All too soon.

Outside, birds sing a jubilant song. That warm summer breeze plays with a tendril of my hair, inviting me to remember the long summer days of my childhood. Days spent on adventures, discovering creeks filled with pollywogs and crawdad holes, and salamanders.

These fleeting memories add color to my story world but they also make me wonder. What would it be like to live a life free of creating stories? No more typing for hours, or laboring over proper word use or straightening out crooked storylines.

I toy with the idea for a moment. And then I chuckle because I know that a writer must write. Stories must be told. sunflower-field-blooms

Keep your face to the sunshine and you will never see the shadows. – Helen Keller