What a Difference!     Happy Birthday, Mother     Cowboys Don't Have Feelings     Publicity and Promotion     The Green Eyed Monster     A Negotiable Marriage     Paperback Writer     Under God     When in doubt     Publishing odds     My Better Half     Procrastination           Waiting     Dixie Cluckers     Political?      Faith of a Mustard Seed      Fathers Day (poem)     Bad Road (poem)     Things are picking up      Making my Mark      Hot weekend      I love libraries      Called to write?     Christian/western - is that an oxymoron      I've always wanted to write a book     Joy in heaven     Short attention span      Entertaining angels?     How important is a title?     I've been writing 20 years with only one rejection.     Running on empty     Life is working down your list     Blogging to start the creative flow     Fathering has changed     Questioning our faith     The DaVinci Code     You have my word on it     Changing times

 

                                    OTHER BLOGS YOU MIGHT ENJOY

 

 

What a Difference!

 

            We have grandkids visiting, Jake and Mandy, teenage brother and sister. We've seen them in between, but it's been the better part of a year since they came to visit and we got to spend time with them. What a difference a year can make.

 

            A year ago Jake was a picky eater, not wanting to eat many things and not much of it when he did. This trip he packs away food like a lumberjack and is willing to try new things just to see if he likes them. He's still pretty prone to disappear with his games, has a boredom threshold that's almost invisible, but when he visits with us he's bright and articulate when we can hear him. With his soft voice, that can be a challenge.

 

            Mandy was quiet last time and we really had to work to draw her into any discussion. The young lady that came to see us this time is self-assured and carries on a very adult conversation. She's absolutely beautiful, and had the boys following her around at the swimming pool completely smitten by her. It's a shame they were much too young for her.

 

            What hasn't changed? We know it's still them when they start picking on one another. Brothers and sisters can and do fight, mostly verbal, and I don't think that ever goes away. I can't say because I didn't have any sisters and Saundra didn't have any brothers. I do know their mother and her brother never got over it, though it did get much better . . . by the time they were in their thirties.

 

            Ah, but the youngest grandchild; we haven't seen Sean Michael or his brothers Bryce and Preston for a month or so. We did get a picture yesterday and Sean has grown so much I'm not sure I would have known him if I had just seen him in a mall or something.

 

Amazing!

 

They grow so fast.

 

Happy Birthday, Mother

Ruth Burns, 92 today

 

Mama's kitchen is warm and cozy,

     Where the world looks bright and the future is rosy,

Where dreams can be shared and hot coffee too

     And all problems and thoughts have a different view.

This is the place where I helped mama cook,

     Standing on a stool where I could look

To see all the wonderful things that she'd make,

     Ecstasy concealing in each thing she'd bake.

This is where I sat down to my books,

     And she kept me at it with meaningful looks.

She'd nourish my efforts with the interest shown,

     Nodding with answers like she'd always known.

Mama shared young love confessed while she cooked,

     Though she already knew it by the way that she looked.

Her kitchen a confessional which bade secrets go,

   Little I couldn't tell, less she didn't know.

Young troubles so devastating with no experience before,

     But the kitchen released them, restored hope once more.

Mama's kitchen recorded changes that came in my life,

     And now to my children, and to my wife.

For in Mama's kitchen we share triumph and pain;

     A refuge from storm, a secure place from rain.

The ultimate Hall of Fame on the refrigerator door,

     Where faces and accomplishments shine evermore.

I win and I lose but take life how I find it,

     For I have a touchstone and with it don't mind it.

For life there is constant and the Lord reigns for sure,

     And with Mama's kitchen I can always endure.

For Mama's kitchen is warm and it's cozy

     Where the future is bright and the world is rosy,

And Mama's kitchen will always be

     The center of the universe for our family.

           

 

Cowboys Don't Have Feelings

 

            Cowboys don't have feelings. Nope, not them, they keep a tight rein on stuff like that, 'cause a cowboy ain't supposed to cry. You catch a cowboy dabbing at the corner of his eye, it's dust in the air, you can bet on it. And if you catch him looking off into a pretty sunset or staring at some pretty scenery you can be sure he's looking for strays.

 

            Sure, a cowboy will get down in the floor and play with a baby at a drop of a hat, but that's just to please the womenfolk. They've been known to tote flowers and pick out cards with fancy words on them, but just to stay out of the doghouse. Two old friends get together and they can get more said sitting side by side on a fence without saying a word than most people talking for a week.

 

            Cowgirls know what these hard old boys are made of. If they don't get the pretty words, they know what the warm look in his eye means, or that gentle touch as he looks down and scuffs the toe of his boot. Cowboy hats don't hardly come off for nuthin, and these ladies know what it means when it gets jerked off and worried around in some good old boy's hands.

 

            The hang-dog look at a funeral is just a mark of respect, and when you catch a feller riding the porch rail waiting for his daughter to come home, it's just because he likes to take the night air.

 

            No, cowboys just ain't the emotional type, but maybe they'll do until one comes along.

 

Publicity and Promotion

 

            For most folks drawn to express themselves in writing, publicity and promotion is not a natural act. In fact, I know some people that are good writers, but fear of having to get out and do publicity and promote their work I'm sure is causing them to subconsciously sabotage their chances at getting published. They're just afraid to do it.

 

            I'm a pretty shy guy, believe it or not. I don't meet people well, leave it to my wife to do things like do returns or order pizza, and sure couldn't get up in front of a group and talk. When we were in high school I was so shy that she had to ask me out.

 

            I had a teacher in college who showed me how to invent a "public persona" and hide behind it to do these things, then convinced me I could do it. I've been doing it most of my life, even becoming a chamber of commerce manager, taking head on the thing I feared the most. When it's time to do it, I dress a bit more western than usual, and when I put the hat on a switch is thrown in my brain and I become Terry the writer. Terry the person is still shy and reserved, but the writer has stood up in front of some big groups. Johnny Carson was that way, shy to the point of being a recluse, but when he got on that stage he thrust out his chest, hid behind his public persona, and became a household name.

 

            You'd think it would reach the point where I'd change and become the person I pretend to be, but I haven't. I'll be at a meeting or something and drop out of character and you'll see me over at the side like a wallflower. Then I'll throw the switch and jump back in.

 

            Jeanette Cezanne hosts an internet radio show called "The World of Publishing" and I'll be a guest on it tonight from 8-9 Eastern time. (http://www.worldwideartist.net/sound-2.htm still available in the archives). If you tune in you won't be able to see me, but I'll be sitting there with my hat on, fully in character, hiding behind the front. I usually start programs and workshops that I give by explaining this. I know a lot of writers fall into this category, and I hope by sharing it that it'll help.

 

The Green Eyed Monster

 

The question was,  Do you ever get jealous of others

in your writing? 

 

I'd like to say I'm not susceptible to jealousy . . .

 

I'd like to, but lying is worse than being jealous. It's worse when

things don't seem to be moving for me and others are reporting

wonderful successes. It's not that I'm not happy for them, I am, I promise. But deep inside in the place I banish it to when it rears its ugly head, it creeps out.

 

 “Why didn't you get that award, make that deal, do that great thing," it hisses.

 

Then I hit it over the head “That's coveting something my neighbor has,” I say, “some success they have rightfully earned. Bad monster.” 

 

"No," it says, using it's tail to rub the rising lump on its head, "it's not coveting what they have if you don't want what they have, but merely similar success or achievement."

 

“Tricky monster.” I turn my back on it. “Back to your dark recess.”

 

"No," it whines, "this is not a sin or a fault, it is drawing motivation for success of your own."

 

Logical monster, and that one sounds pretty good. “Success of our own doesn't depend on building on what others are doing, but is recognition of what God is allowing us to do. Didn't I tell you to get out of here?”

 

"But you don't understand, if it hadn't been them doing that, it would have been you," the monster hissed at the hole to the recess. 

 

“I don't buy that, it isn't a competition, it's God's plan for my life and my writing and has nothing to do with who else is working in the same area. This is the last time I'm telling you to get back in that dark recess.”

 

As it slithers back I can see the green monster has substance and shape. It is a serpent .I should have known who it was all along.

 

Comment : The Green Eyed Monster:  I couldn't find a place to comment under your Jealousy post. But I'm low-techie.

 

I enjoyed that post. I have a scene in a novel where a character experiences what I call a wrestling with the Angel of Light and the Demon of Doubt. I handled it's treatment much the same way you cast it. That's neat. (Course that novel has been rejected a lot, and one editor even commented, "And then there is a very odd part where Austin battles the Angel of Light and Demon of Doubt.")  So I'm glad you wrote your post that way. To me, it expresses what we all feel at times, the battling of the dark thoughts vs. the good thoughts.

 

Now, onto the thoughts themselves. I totally understand what you're saying. I think this is a malady that affects most writers, particularly if you've been a writer for some time. Looking back, I think I DIDN'T battle in the first few years in Authordom. I was Pollyannish (hey, I blogged about that story today!). But as the years have rolled along and I desire to do so much in Authordom and it isn't coming about as I want it to, these thoughts creep in.

 

But as you did, I resist them. Something good is about to happen. I just know it.

 

Kristy Dykes

 

 

 

A Negotiable Marriage

 

Was on a program with this modern lady who was wound

up way too tight. Dunno why I was there, guess I was supposed to

represent the common view. They had the right guy if that was the

case, I'm common as a burlap bag.

            This lady talked about how they NEGOTIATED their

marriage. If you're wondering why I capitalized that word, it

involved a written contract where she as the principal wage-earner

had the primary say on everything down to how often they made love. She ran on and on how they worked through this point and that point to get it all down in writing. Then they turned the floor over to me.

            I said I wasn't smart enough to write contracts, but if I came home, slid into the driveway, slammed the door, kicked the dog, grabbed a cold drink and headed out on the deck, my wife figured she better get up and get dinner on the table. Eyebrows went up all over the place and the lady looked as if she were going to blow a fuse.

            I went on and said if my wife slid into the driveway, slammed the door, kicked the dog, grabbed a cold one and headed to the deck, then I'd get my tail up and get dinner on the table.

Everybody but the lady smiled.

Then I finished saying if we BOTH came home and managed to miss colliding as we slid into the driveway, we'd take turns slamming the door, the dog would take one look and head for the park, we'd both head for the deck, and the kids would order pizza.

            This never really happened, of course, and we don't have a dog, but it made the point. Marriage isn't a thing that can be reduced to a contract, 'ceptin the one in the marriage vows. It does have to be negotiated all right, but on a day-to-day basis, understanding and reacting to the needs of the other. Saundra and I spend all our time trying to figure out how to make the other one happy, and in the process our own needs get met better than they would if we were being selfish and self-serving. Nothing makes me happier than finding some little way to please her.

            I feel sorry for that lady, they've got to make that cold sterile thing they've pieced together into some kind of marriage work. Us, we take it a day at a time. We're always a work in progress, and life is good that way. But most important, our union is based on a solid Christian love, and the Lord makes it all work.

            Wonder if the lady ever figured it out . . . or if they're still together even?

 

Paperback Writer

 

            Saundra and I take turns reading aloud to one another as we drive on a trip. It means changing the wheel a lot because we can drive a lot longer than we can read before our voice gives out. On the return trip we read Stephen Bly's "Paperback Writer." My writer friends will enjoy this book as it takes quite an interesting look at the process we go through. Some, like me, may even find themselves identifying and learning from the conclusions this fictional writer reaches about his writing.

            I posted a review on Amazon. After I did I read the other reviews and it would appear there was little middle ground on this book. People either liked it a lot or didn't like it at all. The book does kinda mess with your head. It becomes clear that not only is the fictional writer starting to have trouble distinguishing between the fiction world he spends so much time in, but the reader has the same problem, also having to do sudden 180 degree turns as the reality of the situation becomes clear. Stephen took a chance with this one, but I think it works if the reader is willing to go with it. Saundra and I enjoyed it.

            I also noticed that some posting a review wanted to see the small Christian thread developed more while others found it distracting and in the way of the story. Many of us who do include a Christian thread in our writing, whether a little or a lot, down deep hope to see our work not only provide entertainment to Christian readers, but occasionally find its way into the hands of a non-believer and maybe ignite the tiniest spark. However, if such content puts people off as it did here, I'm not sure how much of a chance we stand to do that.

Not that I'm going to quit trying, just makes me wonder.

 

Under God

 

With the 4th of July holiday I probably won't be posting for a couple of days, traveling. But speaking of the 4th, that's the time of the year when the flags are most likely to come out and patriotism get a fresh shot in the arm. It's not all about fireworks and picnic in the park, you know. Flying that flag is a sometimes thing for people, but to someone who has put on the uniform and picked up a gun in our nation's defense, it's not just something we fly down at the courthouse.

            Anyone who has walked the field at Arlington Cemetery knows the price of freedom, and such a trip should be a mandatory requirement for citizenship. I have good friends and comrades lying there. It's an awe-inspiring experience.

            But it seems these days that everyone is dead set on getting God off the walls, off the money, out of the pledge of allegiance and divorced from government in any form or fashion. Such a notion would cause our forefathers, who prayed more than they debated in their efforts to form this nation, to pick up a musket again and try to win this country back all over again. Only this time they'd not be fighting a foreign country but our own bureaucrats.

            The First Amendment prohibits government from establishing or controlling religion. It has nothing to do with keeping Christianity out of government and everything to do with the government not infringing on our religious freedom. Seems they are dead set these days on doing just the opposite.

            This is and always has been a nation 'under God.' There's a saying attributed to Alex de Tocqueville that "America is great because America is good. If America ceases to be good, America will cease to be great." It isn't found in any of his writings, but irregardless, it's a very cogent remark. 

The Harris poll says that 90% of Americans believe in God and goes on to say the number is even higher in women (93%), African Americans (96%) and believe it or not, Republicans (93%). If all of those who say they believe in God backed that up by attending church they would be overflowing. If they backed it up with their vote the issue of church and state would go away, the last Presidential election gave us a glimpse of that.

But we don't do it, and the morality in our nation is declining so rapidly you can virtually see it day by day. We have no direct control over any of this, but if 90% of this nation began to set up a howl it'd resound through every corner of our government. Wouldn't that be a terrific way to celebrate our nation's birthday?

 

When in doubt

 

Why would writers have doubts? Just because most of

our feedback comes from form letters that do little to inspire us,

maybe cause us to wonder if our words are really good enough?

Perhaps because we tend to work alone with little feedback,

sometimes little support from family or loved ones? I'm lucky to

have tremendous support at home but I know a lot complain

that isn't true for them. Maybe we feel if our words were what God

wanted us to do that he would cause them to get out more effectively? There is no shortage  of such questions.

            It's a recurring problem. We publish and start feeling better about things, then time goes by, more rejection letters come in, and the doubts begin to creep back in. There is an immediate round instantly after I finish a work, "What if this is the last one, what if I'm out of ideas?" Then a new idea pops into my head and I'm off again.

            Satan is good at planting seeds of doubts, it's one of his specialties. Because writing is something we have to do alone, our minds are fertile grounds for it. But Satan doesn't bother to chastise anyone who isn't a threat to him, so if he isn't after us we must not be doing what we're supposed to be doing.

            The best cure for doubt is fellowship with others who understand writing and writers, that's why I'm in several writers groups and share my concerns with those at church who understand. The second thing is to understand that publishing will happen in God's time and even though we may not have the required patience (not my strong suite) his timing is always perfect. The third is to realize when we get these little barbs from editors and agents that they don't know us well enough for it to be personal, it's just business. (see blog on rejection)

            The main thing is to keep writing, keep perfecting our craft., and keep interfacing with our support group. Then comes the biggest support mechanism of all, a letter from someone who loved our work and said it touched their life. It doesn't take many of them to make us feel good about what were doing, to offset all of the negative correspondence that is so much a part of this crazy business, and to make us feel like our words are making a difference after all.

            I can run for months on just a single letter.

 

Publishing odds

 

85% of all submissions are rejected, most without reading

any of the offered material.

That's frightening.

What happens?

Generally those submitting have not done the research to

make sure they are submitting to the right house, are not following

the submission guidelines, don't have it formatted properly, don't

catch the editor or agent's interest with the query letter or if they actually look at the sample writing don't pull them in on the very first page. Publishing is like assembling a puzzle, and all of the pieces have to be in place for it to happen.

In addition to those I just mentioned, it can be too early or too late, not appropriate for the house, just did a book like it, but mostly whatever the reason, when they say "not right for us," they mean it. The bottom line is they have a base of readers and they know what they buy when they walk up to a book rack. They're trying to acquire more of it because they know what those people read. If we aren't a fit, we aren't a fit, and the reason they feel that way doesn't really matter.

It boils down to research. If we don't know that the agent or editor handles what we write and don't know that they are buying and what and why, we aren't ready to contact them. The things we have to find out to convince ourselves that we are a fit are the same questions that agent or editor has to answer in order to give us a favorable answer. That's not the fun part of writing and most of us don't want to do it, but those who are successfully publishing are doing it, and doing it well.

            The good news, however, is the fact that if we are doing things right and doing the legwork we should be doing, that we don't have to compete with the thousands of manuscripts that are submitted every year, just that top 15%. Our job is to make it into that number.

I'll tell you a better number. A respected editor told me a while back that any editor who read an entire manuscript, the odds were better than 90% that he/she would buy it, even if they didn't like it.

Why?

Because the author kept them in the story and made them finish it. They'll probably want changes to make it more palatable to them, but if we force people to keep reading, we improve the odds dramatically.

 

My Better Half

 

I was watching a movie yesterday when this actress started reading from a book. She read where this guy was lamenting because his wife was gone and it was starting to dawn on him that it was like trying to live with half of him missing, like a two volume set of books with the first volume lost. With Saundra spending time with her ailing dad up in Missouri going on two weeks you might guess this particular passage struck a chord with me.

            In my case it's the better half, of course, and it's amazing the little ways it manifests itself. The TV is on all the time, as usual, whether it is being watched or not, but the house seems so quiet. Even when we are there but both busy and not saying a word to each other, I know she's there and it makes a difference. I think I started talking to myself the first day.

All the little things she does for me that I am often not even aware she's doing started showing up, and I don't do them nearly as well. I don't sleep as well without her beside me so I stay up too late and get up too early. That's kinda taking a toll.

            At church I had to answer the question "Where's Saundra?" 2,112 times, then the following question, "How's her dad?" Each person immediately promised to pray for them, and the more thoughtful stopped and did it right there on the spot.

            But mostly I just miss her. Like Rex Harrison said in My Fair Lady, I miss her smile, I miss her face, I miss her touch. Don't get me wrong, some of my writing friends, primarily working moms who have to sandwich writing between jobs, kids, housework and such were just talking about how valuable it was to find a little quiet time, and I agree. I like a little time to myself now and then, but in small doses, a day or two at the most.

            It isn't the first time in our married life we're been separated. Twice I've been off in a work situation for an extended period, just seeing each other on weekends, and I know a lot of guys thrive on that sort of situation, but I don’t. Doing it for several months still doesn't make me good at it.

            Still another week to go.

 

 

Procrastination          

 

            I've always intended to be a procrastinator when I get around to it. Big grin on that one. Not only have I gotten around to it, I've raised it to an art form. Still, this week and the coming week have been different. I took all the things I've been putting off, the contents of my honey-do list, and new things that have occurred to me and have determined to get them done while Saundra is at her dad's and I'm trying to get them all done. Sort of a belated anniversary gift since she had to be gone on our anniversary. I'm taking a couple of them or more if I can get to them and doing them every afternoon after work.

 

            It doesn't get dark here until after nine so it gives me quite a bit of time. I always go by and check on mama after work each day, but we've agreed to change that to doing lunch together instead to give me more time. Admittedly this has taken a huge toll on my writing, but maybe I needed a break anyway.

 

            I'm told it takes three weeks to build a habit. Hmmmm, so if I continue to do this for a week after she returns I'll never be a procrastinator again?

 

Probably not.

 

I know me, and it isn't true what they say about not being able to teach old dogs new tricks. But they do have to be easy tricks, and giving up a lifetime of procrastination would be a really hard trick.

 

Besides, it's one of the things I do best.

 

Waiting

 

When I've finished school . . . college . . . got a job . . .

win that sweepstakes . . . get married . . . when the kids are

grown . . . when the bills are paid . . . when I save enough

money . . .

            Much of my life has been spent waiting for something

to happen that will make it easy riding. Sometimes it happens and

things are rosy for a while, but the next thing I know I'm waiting for

something else. I've spent a huge amount of my life on hold.

            Me, I put the Lord in charge of my life a long time ago. I look to him and try to do what he wants. Well, periodically at least. There are periods when I get caught up in the business of living, start taking things into my own hands, and the next thing I know I'm back on hold again.

            The Bible says "Wait on the Lord" (Psalm 27:14) and tells us flat out that God is in charge and will help us, but will do it in his time. I mean, it's not like we have any right to tell him when and where anything is going to happen. But ask anybody that knows me, patience is not my strongest point, and learning to wait for God's timing can be almighty hard, even when you know that timing is always perfect.

            Besides that, life has this little game it likes to play. Things that were among our more difficult times end up being cherished memories later. What's up with that? Changing diapers at 3am and trying to get a baby back to sleep? Who knew someday that'd be the good stuff?

            Basic training in the Army? I thought I was going to die. Now I sit with men and we laugh at what we call our rite of passage where we earned our ticket to manhood. Young love? Heartaches for sure, but warm memories now. Financial woes and young marriage have become memories of children growing, ball games and dance recitals, and playing with the kids.

            Finally I figured out that it isn't our destination in life that's important (we know the only destination that counts), it's the trip. We're just fretting over way stations on the ride and we're missing the scenery because we're too busy looking down the track for the next one. We've been told to live each day as if it were our last, and that's really good advice.

            When I have . . . have what? I have what I need now. I need to rear back and enjoy the ride cause I'm holding a ticket for the trip that really matters. Although I admit I'm sorta looking forward to retirement . . .

 

Dixie Cluckers

 

I've been trying to ignore the Dixie Chicks, but now I see they've come out and said they just don't see any reason for patriotism and have made fun of all the performers that have a strong patriotic thread in their music. They can do  that. A lot of good men over the centuries have given their lives to give them that right. They got a terrific backlash from country fans when they used their concert to lambaste the President, but now I suppose they feel his approval rating is at a point where they have been proven right. Or perhaps they are trying to attract the anti-war people. I've got news for them, even the anti-war people are not anti-patriotism.

            They just don't get it. When the firestorm hit they made a half-hearted apology to the President that was worse than no apology at all. But they didn't apologize to the ones they should have apologized to, their fans. When a performer uses a public forum that is granted to them by their fans for political purposes, they had best be sure the fans agree with them because there is an implied consent involved, and their fans didn't agree. They had the right to say what they did, but they shouldn't have used that type of forum to say it. The fans by in large still have not forgiven them.

            It wasn't about a Presidential insult, it wasn't about the war, it was about anti-patriotism on a world stage. Country music people understood that, but the Chicks didn't, and from the tone of this latest garbage still don't.

Most people that I know support this country and support the troops no matter what they might think of the President or think of the war, but a few don't know how to draw that line. They don't know how to express discontent and still support the things that matter, and they don't know what sort of forum is appropriate for that expression and what forum is not.  I'd put these girls at the head of the list.

If patriotism ever goes out of style as they suggest, then this country will have lost one of the primary things that makes it great. There are lots of countries where there is virtually no patriotism involved, and I for one will be happy to contribute to a fund to buy one way plane tickets to someplace these girls can find what they seek.

 

Political?

 

For most of my adult life I've been a genuine

independent. You hear people say that, but since I had to work

with both major parties doing chamber of commerce work I

had that designation on the voter registration card and I didn't

vote in the primary to avoid a party stamp on the card so I

could stick it in somebody's face if they challenged me. Oh, I'm

conservative, no doubt about that, but I think we might could get something done in this country if we could figure out how to send people to the state or national legislature that cared more about doing the right thing and getting stuff  done than about getting re-elected.

            I kinda wish we could just scrap the political parties, toss them right out. Do like some other countries do and be honest about where they stand, conservative or liberal. And I think legislators ought to have to stand firm on the principles they ran on to get elected, not tell me one thing, then do something else when they get into office. It ought to be a firm contract, and once I've got their word on it I ought to be able to trust them to do it.

            A youngster asked me the other day why we were sending so many corrupt people to the legislature and I said I didn't think we were. We keep electing upstanding, honest men and women with Christian values we think we can trust and as soon as they get inside the beltway the place does something to them. They learn how to "play the game" or how to "get things done," and its all over. And this malarkey about "separation of church and state" was just our Christian founders saying the government shouldn't be controlling churches, they didn't mean Christian people had to give up their right to say what the government should or shouldn't be doing as people today would have us believe. I could probably do a whole blog on that.

            Western writing friend Frank Roderous and long time friend Tommy Beauchamp have appointed themselves as my political conscience and send me emails all the time about stuff we seem to agree on. I have no idea how either of them might stand politically, but we tend to look at the world in the same way.

            I do know this, over 80% of this country have a belief in God, and most profess to be Christians. So why do we seem to be spending all out time trying to get God off our money, off our public walls, and out of government, period. Isn't 80% of the votes enough to make our legislators straighten up and fly right? If it isn't we oughta turn the rascals out.

 

Faith of a Mustard Seed

 

We all know the Bible verse that says (Matthew 17:20) "If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, remove hence to another place and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you."

            That verse was on my mind this morning as I talked to Saundra, who is up with her dad in Missouri. He has lung cancer and has been diagnosed as being terminal. He's had a couple of bad episodes the past few days. In the men's prayer circle before church, then again in Sunday School class I asked for extraordinary prayer for them both. When I was told that they had been on the prayer list and the whole church was praying for them I said, "That won't get it, right now we need to bear down."

            We aren't praying for him to be healed, though God certainly could do that and might choose to do it. It would be wonderful if he were healed, but being in his late 80's it wouldn't buy him much time at that. No, we're praying that God's will be done. He knows what's best for Penny right now and that's what we want for him.

I believe God is answering, as I know they are being given a great gift. One by one those who love him are making the trek, in full knowledge that they are probably saying goodbye. I can't tell you how many people I've heard say "If I only knew, I would have said this or said that." They know.

It isn't sad, not until time of parting and the full realization hits. They are having a terrific time, forging a memory that will probably last them their entire life. There are one or two that I'm not sure have put all their issues to rest yet and I really hope they do, but regardless, it is a gift not many families have had.

I got to be with my dad when he died, was holding his hand and had just told him how much I loved him. He had shown no signs of life for some time, but I know he heard, heard me on one side and mother on the other. I knew he was in pain, but I thought somewhere in there he was waiting on my brother to come say goodbye. We didn't hear from Trent often and had not been able to contact him. I told Daddy that Trent wasn't coming and told him how much we all loved him. It was apparently the release he needed because the monitor went flat. There are times when I feel guilt for that but other times when I feel it was the right thing to do. Regardless it allowed me to know with certainty that he heard me say goodbye.

Penny has a great attitude, he is eager to see what Heaven looks like, even more eager to see departed loved ones. Eager. Isn't that great? He's a man of faith and does not fear death because he knows what waits for him. He does fear the act of dying as we all do, but not death itself.

Saundra and I do have the faith of that mustard seed, and perhaps God will move that mountain, but instead, we'd just rather he work his perfect will.

 

 

Fathers Day

Fathers day always brings my dad to mind, of course. Saundra

is off spending a couple of weeks with her Dad and I envy

her. On Father's day in particular I miss Daddy.

 

He was a strong, tough working man

          his hands were brown and scarred.

His life was measured in tasks that were done

          and he led a life that was hard.

 

He lived in a world that kept feelings close

          and couldn't let emotions show

for an emotion was a weakness, you see

          and he couldn't let the whole world know.

 

And this private man couldn't touch and hold

          and couldn't let his soul show through,

So he showed the world hard work and sweat

          and they didn't have a clue.

 

But you could see his heart every now and then

          if you knew just where to look

and if you knew how to open it's little door

          and you knew just what it took.

 

You just had to say 'I love you, Dad'

          and look deep within his eyes

and though he couldn't say it, you could see it there

        shining like the sun from the skies.

 

For Daddy said love with his eyes and his heart

          and with that shy little smile

and it was enough and I'm here to say

          it beat the rest by a mile.

 

 

Bad Road

Gotta do 40 miles of real bad road

            driving this wagon and toting this load,

and when I get through I got me a windmill to fix.

            Then I gotta lotta fence to mend,

and gotta build a pen for the hens,

            fill the firebox with a big armload of sticks.

 

You know I met me a tourist the other day,

            he was on vacation I heard him say,

vacation, my gosh, what kind of thing is that?

            The only vacation this cowboy gets

is when he just up and sits

            down in the shade to wipe the sweat from his hat.

 

But you know it's not all sweaty and hot,

shucks no, in the winter guess what we got;

breaking ice, shovel snow and feed each and every cow.

            I guess it's not that I mind,

just wish I weren't so far behind,

            Think I'd quit if I could figure how.

 

But then there comes that peaceful day,

            sitting my horse as I watch calves play

with a gentle breeze cooling down my face.

            Then I remember what I'm here for;

no cars or schedules or running out the door,

            and I own ever cow, calf  and kid on the place.

 

I don't guess that I WOULD quit,

            though now and then I gotta throw a fit,

but overall I know it just suits me.

            So I smile and holler to perk up the team;

had to get it out of my system if you know what I mean.

            Forty miles is a lot of nice country to see.

 

Things are picking up

We took time off to make sure we didn't have any conflict with the arrival of our new grandson, Sean Michael., but writing things seemed to progress anyway. The third in the Mysterious Ways series, Shepherd's Son, comes out in September. We got a note yesterday that I have a story in A Cup of Comfort for Weddings coming out in December. Sometime between now and then another collection I'm included in entitled Heartwarming Christmas Stories comes out from Cook Communications. One of my stories has been selected for a book in the Writers Guide Series entitled Rejection Lessons, and another in an anthology from Topzone Publications, and a collection entitled The Call Project edited by Matt and Stephanie Forck. A bunch of stuff that sorta snuck up on me.

            Beginning June 25th,  there's an interview Lena Nelson Dooley did with me that will be posted on her site at http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com and July 10th at 8pm EST I'm set to have an online radio interview with Jennifer Cezanne on the World of Publishing show at http://www.worldwideartist.net/ .

            There are a number of book proposals out, including a half dozen that have requested the read on a full manuscript, two of which asked for an exclusive read. That sounds rather promising.

Toss in several upcoming library gigs, a program for the Fellowship of Christian Writers in Tulsa, a workshop for the Ozark Writers Group at the College of the Ozarks in Missouri and getting our oldest granddaughter married off in November, and things are starting to pick back up.

But there's a joker in the deck as my father in law, Audrey Pennington, is fighting a battle with lung cancer and Saundra is about to go up there for a couple of weeks to spend time with him. He's a pretty special guy and we solicit your prayers for him, after all I owe him big time. He gave me the most precious thing he had, one of his three girls.

 

Making my Mark

Grandpa was a big man and raised a big family, eleven in all. He went to work and he raised kids. He wanted to make his mark in the world and he made eleven of them. It was mammaw's full time job making it happen.

            Daddy was cut from the same mold. Hard working and reserved, his whole life was his boys, mama's too. They were always there for us. I guess we were poor but I never knew it. The money was always there when we really wanted or needed something, but that was because we were raised to have realistic expectations and our desires were reasonable. We had good food and decent clothes. When Daddy made his mark he made it in us.

            My kids mean everything to me. I hope we brought them up right. We put the mark of the Lord on them as my folks and their folks did before them. Never had money running out our ears but I think they had what they needed. I tried to make time to play in the yard and go to school plays, dance recitals, baseball and soccer games. Most of all, good times or bad I tried to offer unconditional love and support. I made my mark in them and I couldn't be prouder.

            Now I see my kids making their mark in the world. Will it be the same? I see the love. I see the Christian upbringing. I've been there when they were baptized and I see them taking the time with them. I'm thinking they're making great parents. It doesn't always work out that way. I see a lot of single parents spending all their time working while somebody else keeps the kids. They have no time to make their mark on the kids, and if somebody else is doing it, how can they be sure it isn't the wrong mark?

            I'm thinking that's one of the biggest problem in this old world today, the breakdown of the family unit. It seems to be the way of things these days and we're paying for it. I'm sure glad I got a chance to make my mark.

 

Hot weekend

My son Bryan and I built a big deck on the back of our house this weekend in 100 degree heat. Man it was something else, but it had to be done while he was here to help. No, that's not true, it was more like so I could be there to help him because he did most of the work.

            That was why my blog didn't change for several days, which worked out anyway because I had one up expressing my thoughts about libraries and librarians ( click on more musing if you didn't see it) and it left it up a few days for them to see. I sent emails out thanking those who had shelved my books and sending them to that blog as a small way of saying thanks. Of course I did also point out that my new one comes out in September and a few indicated they would add it to their collection. That's why I love libraries. A few didn't get that it was a thank you and referred me to their formal process for suggesting book acquisition (many of which require keying in a local library card) but that's okay too. I still appreciate them.

            Another byproduct of having to do all that work while Bryan was here was missing church. Man, I hate that. The batteries for the cordless tools ran down quickly in the heat and we ran down quickly too. We put the batteries in the charger units and got a fresh one. That made me think about missing church. That's when I get my batteries charged and I feel like I'm running on low power, sure do need a fresh charge.

            Makes me think of all those folks that claim to be Christians but never seem to make it to church at all. I don't see how they keep going without topping off their batteries.

 

I love libraries

A lot of writers aren't too wild about having books in libraries. They figure one book in a library can cost them a bunch of sales in the community. I don't see it that way. The link above leads to a passel of libraries where I have books shelved and I'm looking to increase that number. I believe it helps me build name recognition in the town where the library is located. When a book or books is shelved in a library it generally shows up in the catalogs of the entire system, anywhere from a dozen libraries to upwards of 40 or 50 with larger systems. That's a lot of visibility.

 

            From a faith standpoint, a book will be checked out 50 times or more over the life of the book. That greatly increases the number of people I reach with my words for the Lord. It is true that some libraries shy away from books with a strong faith content, as do some bookstores, but that's changing. More and more the Christian market is growing and libraries and bookstores offer what readers want.

 

            Libraries are being challenged by the internet as the primary place to do research, but I still love to spend time in a library surrounded by two things I love; books, and readers. Which leads me to one of the things I love most about libraries, they promote literacy. They work hard to get young people reading, to advance adult literacy, even teach adults to read who don't have that skill. TV and movies cut into that base, entertainment that reaches out to us with a twist of a switch that just pours directly into our brain with little if any effort on our part. But to me, they can't compete with settling in with a good book, enjoying it at my own pace with the cast of characters that I develop in my own head instead of those selected by some casting director.

 

            Then there are librarians, what delightful people! Always have time to help find answers, to help writers and readers alike, and who love books even more than we do. Is it any wonder that I love libraries so much?

 

Called to write?

            I believe there are two ways to write for the Lord, to decide we want to do it, or to feel a need deep with us that we HAVE to do it. On the surface those don't sound much different, but to my mind they are. If we decide we want to do it then it is an offering, one that will hopefully be pleasing to Him and efforts that He will bless. If God has called us to do it, it's a different thing. We can't quit for one thing since God always finishes what He starts. We have to do it in His time, which can often be hard on those of us not blessed with an abundance of patience. However, whatever God calls us to do, He will equip us to do and lead us in our efforts.

            Moses, Abraham, the Apostles, and even Jesus himself were all prepared for years before God began to use them. How much more preparation would we require? You can see over in my writing testimony that I really wanted to do it as an offering. That way I could do it as I wanted and there would be less pressure, less expectations. It didn't work out that way.

            But is it possible that I have completed the task God called me to do and I'm continuing to work at it simply as an offering? I suppose it is, I've been thinking about it lately as my publishing situation has changed. God can and will use a huge number of resources just to reach one lost person. I know he used quite a few on me.

            Is it possible I've reached the initial goal he had for me and now I'm supposed to change my focus and go another direction? Yep, that's possible too, and I've been praying about it and thinking about it a lot. I do know this, trying to follow the direction of the Lord is not a static situation. It isn't a matter of getting situated in a rut and walking around that rut in circle after circle. Several times in my life He has orchestrated major changes, a couple of times using extraordinary means to get my attention that I was to go in a new direction. I hope I'm more flexible now.

            How do I know for sure I'm doing God's will and not just rationalizing what I want to do myself? That's a hard one and probably should be a topic all by itself, but I do know he asks us to try the spirit, to test such direction, and I know he always confirms it in more than one way. I suppose I'm in the midst of such a change right now and don't fully understand the direction I'm supposed to go.

But I will . . . . . .  I will.

 

"Christian/western - is that an oxymoron?"

There are a surprising number of people who figure the two words just do not go together, including a bunch of editors. When I was invited to join a group of western writers who hang out together, that was the main thing they wanted to learn, what made a Christian western? I told them most of the books written by western writers were clean enough togo into a Christian bookstore, but for the ones that made it, it wasn't what wasn't in the book (ie sex or profanity)but what WAS in it, an element of faith.

Do the two words not go together? There are a lot of cowboys with very deep faith and beliefs. The rodeo cowboy arm of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes has a lot of members, and there are Cowboy Churches all over the place. Bibles were in a large number of the saddlebags of people out in this country in the days of the old west, and the most common way people had to "learn their letters."

True, churches were scarce, maybe a few circuit riding preachers roaming around, but they didn't need walls to confine their faith when they were out in God's handiwork all the time. They were rough men, and language may have been a shortcoming, but they lived by a set of principles a lot of church-going people today would have trouble measuring up to.

 

I've always wanted to write a book

 

I don't think I've ever done a signing or event that someone  hasn't come up to me and said "I always wanted to write a book," or are in the process, or some similar statement. I tell them if they have a book in their head that they need to get it out or it'll drive them nuts. I also point out that 85% of all manuscripts submitted are rejected. All it takes to be a writer is glue your tail in a chair and write, but making the leap to published writer takes a bunch of work.

            The 85% number can be very discouraging, but looking at the other side, most rejections come from not learning the craft; formatting problems, structure and plot problems, not researching the market and submitting to the wrong places, managing to find and submit to that one place where all the puzzle pieces are in place for publication to happen. The average for selling a first book is six years. It can be a long and arduous process, but most of us who have published have done it.

            But I don't know anyone that the market told to quit writing and take up knitting. Most of those who never published simply gave up and quit. Those who put in the time, and did the work necessary to perfect their craft have eventually prevailed, and what's the downside? If they never published they still have some great stories to share with their families, and in the process probably managed to exorcize that nagging muse from their head.

            I encourage them, but I also let them know how they have to go about it. For many it's simply more than they want to do.

 

Joy in heaven

 

            It was a great day at church today as a couple of youngsters gave their heart to the Lord. I love it when vacation Bible school rolls around because its often the tool that leads these young people to Jesus.

            The Bible says that all the Angels rejoice at such a time, and I know that's true. I also know how it gladdens the heart of all those in the church to welcome those precious kids into the fold.

            Do we feel that much joy when someone of advanced years walks that aisle? We should. I think it's like the prodigal son, or the thief on the cross, it's never too late to make that trip.

            The young people have more years ahead of them to walk in fellowship with the Lord, and that's a good thing no matter how we slice it, but early or late the main thing is that we get it done. It's dangerous putting it off so long, because we have no guarantee if we put it off until tomorrow that tomorrow will ever come. That's like playing Russian roulette with our soul.

            I think there's just as much joy in heaven over an 80 year old getting saved as there is over an 8 year old. For me, it really warms my heart seeing those kiddos come home, but I really get a kick out of seeing somebody snatched out of the devil's hands at the last minute too. 

 

Hee-hee-hee.