Biblical Flash Fiction - The Unbroken Line

I've been looking forward to getting to 2 Kings 11 in my chronological Bible reading  ( I read it Tuesday!) for a while. The story is likely one you don't remember very well, if at all. But it has one of my favorite bits of irony in all of the Old Testament - and it's one I didn't even notice for a while after I first read it.

I believe that I first recognized the irony just before I wrote some flash fiction related to the story. The piece below - that very story - was my very first attempt at biblical fiction. I wrote it over half a dozen years ago for the FaithWriters Writing Challenge. The topic was unsung heroes. I've fixed this piece up a bit (it's clear I've learned a bit about writing since I wrote it LOL). Hope you enjoy it!

The Unbroken Line

Jehosheba stared out over the pasture before her. A land flowing with milk and honey. Peaceful and tranquil, with sheep and their shepherd resting by the still waters nearby. She couldn’t ask for a better view from her home. She closed her eyes in prayer.

Photo Credit

Thank you, Lord, for my many blessings. You have given me a wonderful husband in Jehoida the priest – such a man of God! And, most importantly, you are allowing him, and me, to serve You in the temple. I am afraid of what is happening with my family, but I know, Lord, that you are in control of all of it.

Opening her eyes and gazing toward the horizon, she saw a figure in the distance, riding toward her.

Must be a messenger from the front lines.

Jehosheba sighed. Probably bad news. A year ago, a messenger reported that her father, King Jehoram, had died. Her half brother Ahaziah then took the throne.

Oh, how she wished her family would love the Lord like she did. She prayed for them all daily: even her stepmother. Athaliah, daughter of Israel's King Ahab, was as bad as her infamous father. Unfortunately, Ahaziah was growing up more and more like his mother. The last Jehosheba heard, Ahaziah had joined with Joram, king of Israel and Athaliah’s brother, in a war against the Arameans. No good could come from that.

The messenger was getting closer – he would likely be to her door within a minute or two. She threw a quick prayer up to her Lord and walked toward him. It was her cousin Keldar, a general in her brother's army.

Catching his breath, Keldar dismounted, sat on the ground and looked into Jehosheba’s eyes with desperation.

“Your brother, King Ahaziah of Judah, has been killed in battle, along with Joram king of Israel.”

‘Oh, Keldar! May God use this for His good. Can I get you a drink? A bite to eat?”

“Thank you, dear Jehosheba, but I am too grieved to eat, and I have a flask of water.”

She nodded and invited him in for a rest.

“Unfortunately, that is not all the distressing news I have for you. Rumor has it that Athaliah is looking to take over. They are saying she is planning to get rid of the entire royal family so she can take the throne for herself.”

Jehosheba’s eyes narrowed and gleamed with resolve. “I must get to the palace. I can’t let that woman destroy the Davidic line.”

**

The commotion was deafening – fighting, yelling, crashing of furniture. It was a wonder Jehosheba’s baby nephew Joash wasn’t screaming along with them. Thank the Lord, he played quietly on the floor with his nurse Sarai, the nursery door shut tight. Zibiah, the baby’s mother, was cowering in the corner, terrified of the massacre of the princes just outside.

“We have to keep Joash away from her, Zibiah! It’s too late for the others, but him we must save.”

Zibiah nodded, choking back tears.

“I can sneak out the window with the baby and Sarai and hide him from Athaliah. You just pray that the Lord will erase Joash from her mind.”

“Of course,” Zibiah muttered. “But where will you take him? Where can he possibly be kept that she won’t find him?”

Smirking, she replied, “I think I have an idea.”

**

Entering the temple through the rear door with her two guests, Jehosheba found just what she was looking for – a small bedroom without an occupant. Leaving Sarai and baby Joash there, she went to find her husband.

Athaliah wouldn’t come near the temple if her life depended on it. It stands for everything she is against. And what better place to raise a future Godly king than in His house?

**

Image courtesy of Christiansunite

Six years later

Jehosheba stood a few hundred feet from the temple entrance, A large group of men gathered. Though she couldn't hear what they said, she knew their plan. Her step-mother Athaliah would be forced from the throne, and her nephew Joash, who she and Jehoida had raised like he was their own, would rule Judah. King David’s line would continue.

**
Based on 2 Kings 11, 2 Chronicles 22-23

Jehosheba was certainly clever. Hiding the future prince in the temple :) Love it!

 
Scripture Stories: Timeless Truths

Just Call Me Kathy - God is so Good

Welcome to my Wednesday feature God is So Good. Here I will share stories - true and fiction, mine and others' - of the Lord's presence in the midst of trials, struggles, and difficulties.

In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33b

This is a story I wrote almost five years ago for the FaithWriters' Writing challenge. It's a favorite of mine (and several others - it was an Editor's Choice that week, and the comments on the original are quite generous). I hope you enjoy it - and find the hope in it.

Just Call Me Kathy

Simon shuffled toward the meetinghouse, pebbles on the sidewalk pressing into his bare feet. Despite the pain, he scarcely lifted his legs as he walked, preferring the discomfort to the effort required to relieve it.

He hoped they would let him in. Street urchins, with their grime and crime, were excluded from such gatherings. Yet, this was one of their own. Weeks before, Cameron shared a ratty blanket with Simon. Then, good fortune suddenly seemed to shine on Cameron.

The boys had been begging together along the street a month previous. A lady - clearly from high society - dropped her handkerchief right by them.

Cameron retrieved it. Simon planned to ask for it later, in exchange for a bowler hat. Before he could, however, Cameron did something shocking.

"Excuse me, mum," Cameron said, tapping the lady on the back. "You dropped this."

Simon's mouth dropped. Urchins were to never speak to, much less touch, anyone outside their kind. Friends had been beaten for less.

Simon retreated and turned his head, watching the two discreetly. He didn't want to be seen as Cameron's cohort.

"Why, thank you." She took her handkerchief from Cameron. "What is your name, young man?"

Cameron lowered his eyes. "Cameron, mum."

"Just call me Kathy." She smiled. "Cameron, where is your mother?"

"Dead, Miss. Pa, too."

Kathy held Cameron's dirt-caked hands. "You poor boy."

She looked into Cameron's eyes and smiled. "I'd like to help you, Cameron. Will you come home with me?"

"Mum?" Cameron's jaw dropped.

Simon discarded his plan for discretion. He stepped closer and gawked.

Kathy smiled gently. "I'd love to take you in, Cameron, if you'd like."

"Oh, yes, mum. Thank you, mum." Cameron danced down the sidewalk, grabbing the woman's outstretched hand. The two walked off.

Cameron hadn't turned to wave goodbye, and Simon wasn't surprised. He was getting a new life: why look back?

Over the next couple weeks, Simon heard gossip from local vagabonds. Cameron had his own room in a mansion. He ate four full meals a day. Kathy would adopt him.

Then, suddenly, the scuttlebutt turned grim. Cameron had fallen down a flight of stairs. He was in the hospital. The doctors couldn't help him.

Finally, just the day before, Simon learned Cameron was dead and his funeral was noon today, in the meetinghouse.

Fellow urchins had discouraged him from going, saying he'd never get into such a fine gathering. Simon was undeterred.

"Gotta go, fellas. If they don't let me in, they don't. I hafta try."

From the location of the sun, Simon could tell noon was fast approaching. He quickened his pace slightly, reaching the meetinghouse as several finely-dressed people entered.

He recognized Kathy right away. She stood at the meetinghouse door, greeting guests as they entered. Once the crowd cleared, she grinned and beckoned Simon, who stood beside a lamppost just outside the doorway. He approached cautiously.

"You must be Simon." The boy looked up and was immediately drawn into her warm eyes and gentle smile. "Cameron told me so much about you."

"Mum?"

"He surely missed his friend Simon. In fact, we were planning to come calling on you when..." She lowered her eyes briefly and sighed. "I do miss him, but it's a blessing to know he's in a better place, isn't it?"

How could she say that? Cameron was dead; how was that better than being rich in a fine house with a kind woman? And why was she smiling? Was she happy Cameron was gone? Simon bawled.

"Oh, Simon, don't cry." Kathy cupped his dirty face in her hands. "Cameron is in heaven."

Simon choked back further tears.

"Of course I'm sad that Cameron is dead, Simon. But he believed in Jesus before he passed on. Now he is in the most wonderful place, waiting for me - and for you, too.

"If you believe, Simon, you will see him again. And while we wait, we can know this: our friend Cameron is full of joy - more than we can imagine. For that we can be happy, yes?"

"Mum, I have to believe? How?" Simon pleaded. "I want to see Cameron again, and go to heaven. It sounds so much nicer than this place."

Kathy took Simon's hand. "The funeral is beginning, Simon. Come in with me and help us remember your friend. I'll tell you about it once you come back home with me afterward - if you'd like to, of course."

Simon nodded, full of hope, and entered the meetinghouse with her.
**

God is "famous" for bringing "Kathys" into our lives when we struggle, isn't He? He is SO good!

Do you have a story you'd like to share about God's goodness in your struggles? Drop me an email and we can talk! 

 
Traveling Rough Roads With God's Strength

I Get That Woman - and a FaithWriters announcement

I know a lot of you folks are FaithWriters' folks, and I wanted to do something I generally don't. Many of you know I'm the blogger for the FaithWriters blog, but rarely do I point you to that blog. Today is different. Many of you may have heard that FaithWriters is now under new ownership. Well, there is an interview with the new owners, Michael and Bea Edwards, on the FaithWriters blog today. I'm very excited about them, and the future of FW - please stop by and get to know them!

Photo credit

Jesus shared many of his lessons as parables. A story you can relate to is a great way to bring a message or truth home. And the stories Jesus told were right out of the lives of his contemporaries. He told tales of nets and fish to fishermen. To farmers, he spoke of seeds and weeds and vineyards. He told of sheep and banquets and landlords to those who dealt with those aspects in their own lives.

But I'm not a fisherman. Or a farmer. Nor have I ever tended sheep or been invited to a banquet. It's not that I don't appreciate these parables - or understand them. I just can't necessarily relate to them. Perhaps you're like me in that way.

But this past week, a parable that I'd often overlooked became extremely real to me.

Which one, you ask? Well, it is found in the book of Luke, in chapter 15, verses 8 through 10. The parable of the lost coin.

And why? Because I lost something very precious to me.

On Thursday morning, as I was doing my morning Bible reading, I turned my head from His Word to my left hand. And my mouth dropped.The large diamond in the middle of my engagement/wedding ring - the ring that had been passed down to my husband from his paternal grandmother - was gone.

My gut sunk. My body trembled. My brain freaked. I got down on my knees and searched. And searched. And searched. As I took my children to school, I thought about nothing but where else to look.

Can't see it too clearly - but that's the ring

I called church and told them not to vacuum (I'd been there the night before helping out in AWANA). I spent over an hour there, looking in every nook and cranny, with and without a flashlight, trying to find that diamond. Nothing else would enter my mind.

I looked and relooked in just about every place I could think of. And as I looked, the woman with the lost coin would not leave my mind. Her singleminded desire to find that coin - which many say was likely part of her dowry - became incredibly real to me. And I hoped for nothing more than to join her in her "rejoicing" when she - and I - found what we sought.

Jesus said this was the feeling the angels had when one sinner repents. And the search, it seemed, was just as passionate as that woman's - and mine.

I still haven't found my diamond (and tomorrow - my tech-free day - is going to be consumed with the continuing search), but even if I haven't got that, I DO get that woman's passion - and perhaps Jesus' too - for finding what is lost.
**


Have you ever had a parable "come to life" like this one did to me?
Do you think you have a good grasp of how much Christ wants all of us to be saved? How has His Word spoken to you in a very specific way lately?

Comment below, and/ or stop by Living by Grace and we can chat a bit!



 
Traveling Rough Roads With God's Strength

F is for Funny Flowers

I was a regular contributer to my dear friend Patty Wysong's A2Z4UandMe meme last year - and she has started again, with "take 2." I've enjoyed reading many of the entries, but haven't participated - until today. As I was reading through several of them, I remembered a story I wrote several years ago for the FaithWriters challenge that fit this week's letter - F - perfectly. (It was my first EC, by the way)

So, I figured I'd share it with you. I know some have read it before, but I'm sure you'll have fun!

If Corn Had Ears

By Joanne Sher

Two eight-year-old girls, full of dimples and pigtails, glanced out the kitchen window. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the flowers and plants were blooming gloriously. What a perfect time for a picnic dinner!

Mary raced outdoors, dragging a red and white checkered blanket behind her. She spread it out hastily a few feet from the flower and vegetable garden she and her mother had planted earlier in the year. She headed back in, only to nearly run into her friend Sarah, who was carrying a large picnic basket.

"I'll get the lemonade and you set up the rest of the stuff - OK?"

Sarah nodded and started putting out the flowered paper plates, napkins and cups, and the pink plastic forks, knives and spoons. Mary returned and poured out the lemonade. The girls then began unpacking the food - fried chicken, potato chips, string cheese and chocolate chip cookies, just out of the oven.

"You wanna pick some strawberries? We can wash them off with the hose. I planted them all by myself!"

**

"Ow! Be gentle, kid!!"

"Listen to you! You're always complaining, straw! Yanno they can't hear you, so why bother?"

"I've heard about enough of you," an ear of corn added. "You think being picked hurts - try getting shucked!"

"That's nothing - bet none of you has ever had your head cut off!" the lettuce grumbled.

The potatoes rolled their eyes. "Such complainers!"

"When I was young," an iris added, "we had to get our own water - none of this sprinkler and watering can convenience. We sent our roots deep into the ground - uphill, both ways, in scorching heat! You youngsters have it easy!"

"You may be a bearded iris," the bluebells chimed in, "but you're no older than the rest of us, so get off your high horse!"

A serene, calm voice spoke, quieting all the grumbling.

"Now, dear friends, we must appreciate all that the good Lord has given us," the Jack-in-the-pulpit exhorted. "Look at this fine soil, with all the nutrients we could need to grow. And those lovely people who come and water us and give us fertilizer. God has also given us such wonderful diversity and beauty. And, for those of you complaining, remember that our purpose in life, at least in part, is to give pleasure to God's chosen - his humans! Remember that when you are cut or picked or eaten or shucked, God's purpose is being fulfilled!"

Hearty "Amens" came from all corners of the garden.

"And also remember, we could be indoor plants, and we would miss the wonderful show our Lord provides for us each day," Jack continued. "So be grateful and praise Him for exactly where we are!"

"Hey," a violet shouted toward the herbs, "Speaking of the show - does anyone have the thyme?"

The corn sighed and covered its ears. "That joke wasn't funny the first time you said it. Cut it out, bud!"

"Don't you even joke about cutting with a flower!"

"Watch it, mister! How do you think Susan got that black eye?"

"Hush, children," Jack whispered. "The show is about to begin."

**

Mary's mother stuck her head out the back door.

"Girls - keep your eyes open - looks like the sun is about to set!"

Mary and Sarah, finished with their meals, lay down on the blanket facing west.

As the brilliant reds, oranges, purples and yellows of God's daily performance came into view, two little girls - and several other parts of God's creation - thanked Him for the beauty of His artistry, and His many good gifts.

You mountains and all hills,
Fruit trees and all cedars,
Wild animals and all cattle.
Small creatures and flying birds,
Kings of the earth and all nations,
You princes and all rulers on earth,
Young men and maidens,
Old men and children.
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Psalm 148:9-12, 150:6 NIV

*****

Fun, eh? Be sure to stop by Peejers' blog for more "F" posts. You will NOT be sorry!

Traveling Rough Roads With God's Strength

My Monthly "Day Off"

(I don't generally "push" my FaithWriters blog posts here, but if you're a frequent, or even occasional or seldom, Writing Challenge enterer, don't miss my post over there from yesterday. The challenge is changing!)

Yup - it's that time again.

T is for Tech-free Tuesday. (Sooo excited that T fell on this Tuesday LOL - go read the REAL "t" posts at Peejers' blog, though!) No puter. No texting. That's my rule.

Planning to work on NaNoWriMo preparation (maybe some character development?), a bit of cleaning, and possibly even finish this book (REALLY enjoying it - and I'll prolly have to buy the three that came before it!).

See you Wednesday!

Riding God's Grace Over Rough Roads

F is for...

Welcome to week six of my dear, dear friend Patty Wysong's From A 2 Z 4 U and me. We're work through the alphabet - one letter each Tuesday. No rules, other than your post has to relate to the letter of the week. Link up at Ordinary Lives and check out everyone else's post. Click on the graphic above for more details, and stop by Patty's blog to link up.

In what will likely be a complete surprise to NONE of you, here at An Open Book, F is for FaithWriters. I've written about my love of this site several times before (click here and here), but today I want to focus on two specific things about this wonderful site: the upcoming conference, and the FaithWriters' blog. A significant thing will be happening with BOTH of these aspects of the "FaithWriters' family within the next several days.

Games until all hours

Book table isn't just for books!

FIRST: I want to recommend, heartily, that if it is at all possible, you attend the FaithWriters' Conference - coming up in just a month and a half. It will be held in Livonia, Michigan (a suburb of Detroit), August 12 and 13, and it promises to be a WONDERFUL time. I've been to all three of the past ones, and have written about the wonderful experiences several times (if you need convincing, check out this post. and this one, and this one). The information. The fellowship. The silliness. The games. The giggles. The books (YES - I'm the book table QUEEN). And there are going to be some WONDERFUL sessions on blogging, different genres of writing, interviews, dealing with agents and editors, inspiration, organization, and several others. And don't forget the bonuses - a bit of comedy with Timmy Boyle, a chance to get a professional headshot with Cari Weber, speed critiquing with Jan Ackerson and Deb Porter, One on One with Deb Porter, and a chance to pitch your manuscript to HEARTLINE LITERARY AGENT Linda  Glaz.

And the big news? The early bird pricing has been extended until this Thursday! You have until the end of this month to get this incredible conference at an especially incredible value. Click here for more info and/or to sign up. You won't be sorry :)

SECOND: The FaithWriters' blog. This wonderful spot in the blogosphere has been around for nearly a year and a half now, featuring FaithWriters news, devotional, writing tips, and so much more. And the queen of that blog: the lovely, talented, and contracted writer Lynda Schab. Every one of the posts you've seen there in the past 15+ months has been lovingly collected/written/posted by that lovely lady.

Well, as of July 4, that's going to change. NO--Lynda is NOT going to stop being lovely, talented OR contracted! She is, in fact, going to put some of her focus on other freelancing jobs, her writing, and her lovely family (and maybe even find time for a life). And someone else is going to be taking over producing content for the FaithWriters' blog.

Yeah. ME.

 It is with excitement AND a touch of fear that I take on the responsibility of being "the FaithWriters' blog lady." (I made up the title - take it or leave it) I've got some big shoes to fill (though I'm guessing my size 10's are probably larger than anything Lynda wears!), but I'm excited about, and I believe up to, the challenge. Hope to see you there - and if you have any suggestions for the FW blog, don't be afraid to toss them my way.

Sooo - there's F! Be sure to stop by Ordinary Lives for more F posts. Fun stuff!

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

If Corn Had Ears: Friday Fiction

Big news - today's the grand opening of the wonderful blog Jewels of Encouragement. You do NOT want to miss this treasure trove of amazing writers and encouragers. Stop by today (and every day!!)

Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted this week by YOURS TRULY! Make sure that you link up here with your own fiction below. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!), just scroll down and check out the links.

This is a very early challenge entry for me--during my first quarter. It was also my first EC. A fun piece, I think. And fun sounded good :) Hope you enjoy it!

IF CORN HAD EARS

Two eight-year-old girls, full of dimples and pigtails, glanced out the kitchen window. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and the flowers and plants were blooming gloriously. What a perfect time for a picnic dinner!

Mary raced outdoors, dragging a red and white checkered blanket behind her. She spread it out hastily a few feet from the flower and vegetable garden she and her mother had planted earlier in the year. She headed back in, only to nearly run into her friend Sarah, who was carrying a large picnic basket.

"I'll get the lemonade and you set up the rest of the stuff - OK?"

Sarah nodded and started putting out the flowered paper plates, napkins and cups, and the pink plastic forks, knives and spoons. Mary returned and poured out the lemonade. The girls then began unpacking the food - fried chicken, potato chips, string cheese and chocolate chip cookies, just out of the oven.

"You wanna pick some strawberries? We can wash them off with the hose. I planted them all by myself!"

**

"Ow! Be gentle, kid!!"

"Listen to you! You're always complaining, straw! Yanno they can't hear you, so why bother?"

"I've heard about enough of you," an ear of corn added. "You think being picked hurts - try getting shucked!"

"That's nothing - bet none of you has ever had your head cut off!" the lettuce grumbled.

The potatoes rolled their eyes. "Such complainers!"

"When I was young," an iris added, "we had to get our own water - none of this sprinkler and watering can convenience. We sent our roots deep into the ground - uphill, both ways, in scorching heat! You youngsters have it easy!"

"You may be a bearded iris," the bluebells chimed in, "but you're no older than the rest of us, so get off your high horse!"

A serene, calm voice spoke, quieting all the grumbling.

"Now, dear friends, we must appreciate all that the good Lord has given us," the Jack-in-the-pulpit exhorted. "Look at this fine soil, with all the nutrients we could need to grow. And those lovely people who come and water us and give us fertilizer. God has also given us such wonderful diversity and beauty. And, for those of you complaining, remember that our purpose in life, at least in part, is to give pleasure to God's chosen - his humans! Remember that when you are cut or picked or eaten or shucked, God's purpose is being fulfilled!"

Hearty "Amens" came from all corners of the garden.

"And also remember, we could be indoor plants, and we would miss the wonderful show our Lord provides for us each day," Jack continued. "So be grateful and praise Him for exactly where we are!"

"Hey," a violet shouted toward the herbs, "Speaking of the show - does anyone have the thyme?"

The corn sighed and  covered its ears. "That joke wasn't funny the first time you said it. Cut it out, bud!"

"Don't you even joke about cutting with a flower!"

"Watch it, mister! How do you think Susan got that black eye?"

"Hush, children," Jack whispered. "The show is about to begin."

**

Mary's mother stuck her head out the back door.

"Girls - keep your eyes open - looks like the sun is about to set!"

Mary and Sarah, finished with their meals, lay down on the blanket facing west.

As the brilliant reds, oranges, purples and yellows of God's daily performance came into view, two little girls - and several other parts of God's creation - thanked Him for the beauty of His artistry, and His many good gifts.


You mountains and all hills,
Fruit trees and all cedars,
Wild animals and all cattle.
Small creatures and flying birds,
Kings of the earth and all nations,
You princes and all rulers on earth,
Young men and maidens,
Old men and children.
Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.
Psalm 148:9-12, 150:6 NIV

**

Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out the other great fiction linked below, and link up your own!

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

Metamorphosis (Friday Fiction)

If you're looking for Finds for Fridays, either scroll down one or click here.

Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted this week by the dear, sweet, wonderful Catrina at A Work in Progress! Make sure that you  link up there with your own fiction below. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!),  check out the links at her blog.

This was my entry for the last FaithWriters' Writing Challenge - my first entry in almost six months. The topic was Billboard/Sign/Poster. I was gonna hold off and post this another time, but the hostess herself requested I post it now, so here it is. This piece is unlike anything I've written before. Didn't do well in the challenge, but that's all right. Would love your feedback.

METAMORPHOSIS

I hated looking at it. But I couldn't stop.

Every single time I drove that way, my eyes would lock on the picture, and I'd stop the car. I had each inch of it memorized. I could have drawn it myself, in my sleep. I didn't need to glance that way to know exactly what was there. It was permanently plastered in my consciousness.

She was beautiful. No—that word didn't do her justice. She was stunning. Breathtaking. Sensual yet innocent. A woman of any man's dreams. No wonder her face was out for the world to see.

I felt my stomach turn. In a way, I was jealous. Now everybody could see her. They knew how bright her smile was, and how silky her hair looked. They could see her seventeen freckles: eight on her left cheek, six on her right, and three on her nose. The could see the deep blue of her eyes, and how the lashes on her right eye were shorter than the ones on her left.

But on the other hand, I was glad to have it there. I could look at her any time I wanted, and her face would never change. I wouldn't see her frown. Her hair would always be in place, and she would always have that rosy glow on her cheeks. She wouldn't groan. Each time I looked up at the image, she looked perfect.

I wondered who had paid to have that billboard put up. Women like her weren't usually put on display like this. Sometimes there might be an article in the paper, or even a blurb on the local news. But a billboard? Not normally. Someone must love her a lot, and have a whole ton of money, to get that up there.

“I wonder if there's a reward.” Don't know why I said it out loud. Maybe I was hoping someone would answer me. But there was nobody around, and even if there had been, the car windows were rolled up tight.

I read the words above her head again. Have you seen this woman? Some day, someone may ask me that question, and I'd have to shrug my shoulders and say yes. And I'd wring my hands and lower my eyes, and tell them she didn't look like that anymore. Her hair wasn't silky. Her cheeks were pale. And the sparkle in her eyes? It was gone too.

I'd ruined her. She had been so beautiful, and I'd ruined her. But when I saw her that day, I just wanted to keep her for myself—to let nobody else have her.

So I took her. But she changed. I suppose I'm the one who changed her. She told me she didn't want to stay, that she didn't want to be near me. But I didn't let her go.

And now she wasn't that girl on the billboard anymore. The glow was gone. Her smile was different—the few times I saw it anymore. And I knew, somehow, that no matter what I did, she would never be that way again.

But she still had those freckles. All seventeen of them. But they were fading. Even those would be gone eventually.

I grabbed a pen from the glove box and looked up at the billboard one more time. I wrote the phone number on my hand, started the car again, and drove away.

**

Thanks for reading! Be sure to stop by A Work In Progress for more great fiction!

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

New: Friday Fiction

Yeah, I know. It's been a WHILE! But I'm hosting, so here I am!

Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted this week by ME! Make sure that you  link up with your own fiction below. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!),  check out the links below.

This is an old challenge entry (in all seriousness, pretty much ALL of them are old, considering how infrequently I'm entering these days!) from the geography quarter. Topic was USA. And, if you're interested, this story will eventually become a novel. The research was absolutely, positively fascinating. I wish I had time to do a bit of tweaking, but it's a crazy day, so take it as I sent it! (I did get an EC with this one, so it can't be all bad.)

NEW

By Joanne Sher

 

Anticipation wasn't helping her mood in the least. Phillip and Anthony were getting fidgety and restless, and she didn't blame them. The scenery, the accommodations, the company--nothing had changed in over a week. Even the meals, though filling enough, were bland and without embellishment.

"Are we almost there, Annie?" Phillip had asked her that very question at least a dozen times a day since they left Cork on December 20. And, just as she had countless times before, she tousled her youngest brother's red hair and looked into his eyes.

"Closer than we were the last time you asked, you silly boy. God willing, we will see Mama and Papa very soon."

Phillip looked up and smiled, and was quickly engaged by the gentle movement of the expansive Atlantic. So easily distracted, the little scamp.

"He doesn't remember Mama and Papa, does he?" Anthony's eyes looked troubled.

Annie shook her head. "I don't think he does. It's been four years, and he was only three."

Anthony put his hands on his hips. "Well, I remember them."

Annie giggled. "Of course you do. You're eleven years old. It's easier to remember what happened when you were seven or eleven than when you were three."

Anthony bit his lip. "Do you think they still remember us?"

Annie put her brother's chin in her hand. "Now Anthony Moore, whatever would make you ask a question like that? Of course they will remember us! We would still be in Ireland with Aunt and Uncle if they had forgotten us. Don't you remember the letters?"

Anthony smiled and nodded. "Of course you're right, Annie. I just wish we were there now."

"It must be soon. We've been at sea for days. Perhaps in a day or two."

"Oh, Annie! Annie! I just had a wonderful thought." Phillip hadn't spoken with such enthusiasm since he boarded this vessel.

"Do share, Phillip. I would love a wonderful thought." Anthony, along with his sister, sat on the deck beside their younger brother.

"Your birthday is in two days, isn't it? Wouldn't seeing Mama and Papa be a wonderful birthday present?"

Annie pulled her brother into an embrace. "It would, Phillip. And a wonderful start to a new year."

**

Their twelfth night at sea completed, Annie wriggled in her bed. They'd been told they could arrive any day. She sincerely hoped the ship's crew was right.

Something didn't feel quite right. She went through a list in her head, until she realized what was so odd.

The ship wasn't moving.

She rose quietly from her berth with an anticipation she hadn't felt in a week. Glancing through the peephole, she discovered that the boat was, in fact, tethered to a dock. On my birthday. She shook both her brothers gently.

"Huh? What?" Anthony glanced at his sister groggily.

"We're here. In America. Care to go up on deck and see?"

The boys both popped out of bed. Within two minutes, they were bursting out the stateroom door.

The sun was just rising as they appeared on deck. All three stood, mouths open, staring into New York Harbor.

"Annie. Anthony. Look!" Phillip had turned his head slightly.

Before the three of them was an enormous statue of a woman wearing a crown, holding a torch in one hand and a book in the other.

"It's Lady Liberty," Annie muttered. "Remember, Phillip? Mama wrote about her."

The children huddled together admiring the massive monument until they heard a man's gruff voice behind them.

"Get packed up, children. We'll be boarding a transfer boat and going to the new immigration center in an hour or two."

The three scuttled off to their stateroom.

**

"Our last boat ride for a while," Anthony declared.

He and his siblings glanced out the side, staying close to the gangplank of the decorated barge.

"Happy Birthday, Annie." Phillip smiled.

Annie glowed. "The best birthday present I'll ever receive, I'd wager."

Anthony watched as they pulled up to the dock. He grabbed his younger brother's hand and pushed his sister toward the gangplank.

"C'mon."

They made their way off the boat first and approached the clean, huge, nearly empty building.

They trotted toward the registry desk. Annie stepped forward and placed her papers on the counter.

"Congratulations, young lady. You are the very first immigrant to be registered at the Ellis Island Immigration Station." The gentleman shook her hand, and handed her a $10 gold coin. "Welcome to the United States of America."


Over 12 million immigrants passed through Ellis Island Immigration Station between 1892 and 1954 on their way to the USA. Annie Moore, age 15, of Cork County, Ireland, was the first.

www.ellisisland.org

* *

Thanks for reading! Be sure to check the links below for more great fiction!

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

"Oh, Mercy!" - and Barn Door grand opening!

Today's the day! The launch of The Barn Door, a new group blog which I'm a part of. It's full of writers, though it's not really a writing site. What it is is a blog that shows the world from Midwestern eyes.

Contributors range from Midwest natives living in tiny towns to suburbanites born in West Coast big cities (I'd be the latter (: ). It will also feature author spotlights and interviews, with book giveaways too. The first post is up as we speak - a bit of an introduction to the blog and its contributors. We'd love to have you stop by and check us out: the (Barn) Door is always open!

 Those of you who have been at FaithWriters for years, and who have been reading my challenge entries for just as long, may recognize this devo. I submitted it to the challenge during the "genre quarter," in the inspirational/devo category. That, by the way, was 3 1/2 years ago. With my puter issues recently, I remembered it, and felt led to share again.

OH, MERCY

"The computer's not recognizing it." I took a deep breath and looked down at the laptop in front of me on the kitchen table, fighting the urge to scream.

"Not recognizing what?" my husband asked from the living room, where he'd been reading a magazine.

"The flash drive." My voice began to rise and my speech quicken. "The computer's not recognizing the flash drive. I tried unplugging it and plugging it in again, but nothing."

My husband entered the kitchen and stood beside me. "Did you try a different USB port?"

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. "That was the only place I had the file saved."

"That wasn't very smart." He looked down at me seriously. "You should always have a backup."

I nodded. "But I didn't. That's hours of work lost, and only a couple of days until my deadline. I was only an hour or two away from being finished, too!"

**

The information was, for all intents and purposes, unrecoverable. The flash drive was damaged; the only way to get my work off of the drive was to send it away for days or weeks and pay thousands of dollars for data recovery. It was time, and money, I didn't have.

I suppose I could have started over, but it likely would have driven me, along with my entire family, crazy. This had been an intense, extensive weeklong project, and even the thought of trying to redo it in two days was enough to make me want to cry.

And to make matters worse (in my mind anyway), it was completely my fault. I was the one who hadn't made the backup on my computer's hard drive. I was also the one who had carelessly placed the flash drive on top of my clipboard. When I picked the clipboard up, the flash drive fell onto the wood floor, undoubtedly causing the damage that lost all the data.

There was really only one thing I could do. I shot off an email to the project's coordinator, explaining the situation and asking what my next step should be.

I was quite thankful that my boss was the understanding, sweet Christian woman that she was - and that she wasn't counting on me alone to complete the project. Some other bosses I have had in the past likely would have jumped down my throat for my carelessness and required me to get it done, perfectly, on time, no matter the circumstances.

My project coordinator, on the other hand, extended both mercy and sympathy. She would allow the others to complete the job without me, and didn't begrudge me my errors. I was off the hook.

Our "Heavenly Boss" is like that too, isn't he? Often, he will give us a job to do, and we will mess it up - probably more often than we'd like to admit. We're often afraid to confess our errors or sins to the Lord, frightened, perhaps, of His reaction.

Yet, like my project coordinator, God is compassionate and merciful. He knows we are only human, and that "things happen." If we ask, He will forgive us, and often give us a chance to try again.

I will soon have another chance to work under this project coordinator. I have a feeling that, just like my Heavenly Boss, she will give me another opportunity to serve. That's what mercy is all about, isn't it?

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. 1 John 1:9 NIV


Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

A Writers' Meme (from FaithWriters' blog!)

This meme started at the FaithWriters' blog - and it looked way too fun to pass over!

OK…here’s how this works.

1. Copy and paste the following to the comments and replace my answers with your own.

2. If you have a blog, copy and paste these questions and your answers to your blog.

3. Challenge your readers to do the same on their blog.

If you don’t have a blog, skip #’s 2 & 3!

All of this week’s questions have to do with writing (hence, the title of this post: A Writer’s Meme)

Here are your questions (and my answers)

What’s your favorite genre of writing? Biblical Fiction
How often do you get writer’s block? On occasion
How do you fix it? Work on something else, or play FaceBook scrabble
Do you type or write by hand? Both - much of my writing (at least during the school year) is while sitting for a few minutes somewhere - often in the car. By hand is handy. I think I have 100 pages of handwritten words on my current fiction WIP. LOVE the puter tho. I'm planning to get all that input soon so I can see what I have - and FIX it!
Do you save everything you write? Most everything.
Do you ever go back to an old idea long after you abandoned it? Yup
Do you have a constructive critic? Patty Wysong (Peejers) and I do that for each other.
Did you ever write a novel? Have written a novel-length manuscript (nonfiction) and have a novel in the works.
What genre would you love to write but haven’t? Thanks to the FW genre quarter, I'm not sure I can say there is one.
What’s one genre you have never written, and probably never will? Can't think of one really
How many writing projects are you working on right now? Depends on how you define projects - but as far as large-scale, two
Do you write for a living? Do you want to? I'd like to, but don't - partly due to lack of time (don't ask about the other part LOL - or would that be GM?)
Have you ever written something for a magazine or newspaper? Yes - have had a handful of pieces published in magazines, and I worked as a newspaper reporter for a few years.
Have you ever won an award for your writing? Yup
Do you ever write based on your dreams? I've gotten dreams about what I was writing - does that count?
Do you favor happy endings, sad endings, or cliff-hangers? Depends on the story. And my mood.

And now it's YOUR turn! Respond below, put your answers on your blog, or both. Enjoy.
 
Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

We Have A Winner (and not just in my giveaway)

Thanks so much, folks, for all the support and encouragement about the FaithWriters' conference and pitching and all that fun stuff. My update is below. But FIRST,

It's time to take care of some business.

I had 21 entries :D - and by running it through the random number generator, the winner of my birthday book giveaway of Delivered by Peculiar People (LOL including this peculiar person), signed by six of the contributors (FYI - me, Joanney Miller, Lisa Mikitarian, Amy Michelle Wiley, Dub Wright, and Jan Ross) is...

LYNDA SCHAB (who was AT the conference - and whose giveaway I won last week. But this is not a reciprocal thing. Truly. I used the random number generator. AND, by the way, Lynda is ALWAYS winning things. A-L-W-A-Y-S!!)

So, Lynda, send me your address and I'll mail it out to ya this week (or if I'm really ambitious, drop it by your house)

ANYWAY - the conference. If I hadn't started with the giveaway, I would say that I don't know where to start. The people were AMAZING. The sessions, without exception, were annointed and helpful and funny and  wonderful. I learned so much in EVERY one. I can't even pick a favorite. From trends in publishing to blogging to characterization to agent tips to the proper attitude toward rejection (okay - MAYBE that was the one I got the most out of. MAYBE), I came out of the conference so much more prepared to continue my writing for God's glory than I was when I walked in.


I LOVED working the book table - and WE WEREN'T SHORT MONEY THIS YEAR! (can I get an AMEN, Peej and Scott?) The fudge, the truffles, and the food in general was exceptional. And then, of course, the games after hours. More fun than I've had in a long time (maybe about this time last year??). Where else can you start out with "I Left My Heart in San Francisco" and end up with "Squid Love" (you had to be there, I'm guessing)? And let me tell you - there is no better way to find out how crazy and creative your friends are than to play a game of Things with them.


AND, I pitched - and she wants my book proposal! Sending it off THIS week. Exciting stuff (and I may just have picked up a bit of a proofreading for pay job while there too).


I may blog more about it once I've had a chance to let it all meld in my mind. But it was an incredible blessing. Can't wait for the next one!

 
Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

Signed SIX times (off to the FaithWriters' Conference!)

By the time you read this, I will be on my way to the FaithWriters' Conference in Livonia, Michigan. This is the third time they've had one here in the US - and the third time I've gone. This time, I'm taking a bus so I can have some "alone time" (I know that sounds crazy, but even  if there is noise it won't be MY RESPONSIBILITY TO MAKE IT GET QUIETER!). It's about a 3 1/2 hour ride, so not too bad at all.

Most of you know I'm pitching my nonfiction manuscript, Ailing Body, Nourished Soul to an editorial assistant of Literary Agent Terry Burns. Yeah - I'm nervous, but it's all in God's hands, right?

Another thing I'll be doing is "collecting signatures." You probably know I have a book giveaway going on at my blog right now (if you haven't entered yet - CLICK here - deadline is Sunday!). The book is a group novel called Delivered, by Peculiar People books. I am one of 25 authors who contributed to this fascinating book - and at least half a dozen of the authors will be at the FaithWriters' conference! SO, not only am I gonna get them to sign MY copy of the book - but I'll have them sign the one I'm giving away too.

So - have you entered the giveaway yet? Don't forget to go to my birthday blog post and enter (and if you reply to THIS post, that'll be another entry).

See ya after the conference!! (SOOOOO excited!!)

 
Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

Eek!! Welcome to AUGUST

I really, truly, and COMPLETELY cannot believe that July is over and done with. And here it is, August 1: the birthday of HALF A DOZEN of my FB friends - and my aunt. And as wonderful as all those events are, that is NOT what this post is about.

No, my friends, this post is about how I did for my goals for July, and what my goals for August are. (But happy birthday anyway, Jill, Leah, Jennifer, Tracy, Terrie, D. Rajan Immanuel, and Aunt Tzippy!)

But, I digress. Back to business. My goals for July were:

1. Write 10,000 words in my current WIP, Handmaiden to a Princess.
2. Tighten up/perfect/prepare my manuscript Ailing Body, Nourished Soul for pitching.
3. Begin putting together the paperwork I'll need (proposal? etc.) to pitch my book.
4. Post to my blog twice a week
5. Enter the Faithwriters' challenge in July (though this one will be the first "to go" if I can't handle all this stuff!

Well - there they are. And, yeah, I was afraid of that. Didn't do so great. Guess I'll go one by one.
1 - Made a bit more than half of that - check the counter below to see. But that's okay - cuz my emphasis REALLY needed to be on Ailing Body, Nourished Soul

5360 / 10000 words. 54% done!
2- Worked on it quite a bit. Not done - in fact, there is much to do, partly because of a very dear and well-respected friend looking it over and giving me some EXCELLENT advice that I truly feel called to input.
3 - Now THIS took up a lot of my time. Once I saw how elaborate and in-depth the proposal was, a good deal of my time went here. I am QUITE close to finished with the rough draft of this-need to finish the comparables and add some more to the marketing plan, and that's it.
4 - I am pleased to say that I posted AT LEAST two posts a week - a total of 12 for the month. woo!
5 - I said this would be first to go - and it was. No challenge entry this month.

But July is behind me - time to focus on AUGUST! And that would be the month of the FaithWriters' conference - in Livonia, Michigan August 13 and 14, where I'll be pitching Ailing Body, Nourished Soul. Yeah, I'm nervous. But I MAY have my pitch, my proposal is almost done, and I WILL get at least my sample chapters up to snuff by then.

So...my goals for August are

1. Write 3,000 words in my current WIP, Handmaiden to a Princess (do NOT wanna stop the momentum!)
2. Finish my book proposal for Ailing Body, Nourished Soul (no later than August 10)
3. "Fix" my three proposal chapters of ABNS no later than August 7, and continue working on the remaining chapters until they are done.
4. Enter Ailing Body, Nourished Soul in the Houston Writers' Guild Fall Novel/Screenplay Contest (deadline is September 3 - and it has to go through snail mail)
5. Post a minimum of twice a week to my blog
6. Enter the FaithWriters' Writing Challenge once in August.

Well, there they are folks. I'm REALLY appreciative of your prayer (and am gonna need them especially this month!). And, just FYI, the ticker on my sidebar this month will not be counting words in my WIP, but will, instead, be keeping track of chapters "fixed." Ailing Body, Nourished Soul is 30 chapters - please cheer me on as I plug away!

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

Those Sneaky Austrians: Friday Fiction

Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted this week by the wonderful Laury Hubrich. Make sure that you head over to her blog and link up with your own fiction. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!), head over to her blog and check out the links there.

I wrote this entry just a week ago for the "The Writer's Challenge" topic at Faithwriters. It came together pretty easily, and was lots of fun to write. It also did pretty well in the rankings. Hope you enjoy it (and beware of ear worms, from what folks have told me :D)

THOSE SNEAKY AUSTRIANS

By Joanne Sher

12:54pm Well, today's the day. My professor told me that I just needed to set some time aside and protect it, and my goal will be within reach.

So, I did. Three hours once a month, starting in about five minutes. The phone will be off the hook. Email, Facebook, Twitter, and my cell phone will be off limits. This time, the kids will have The Sound of Music and Jenny from down the street to keep them company.

One hundred and eighty minutes to sit in my recliner: computer on my lap and reference books (and snacks) to my left and right. Three glorious hours to let my muse take over and actually make some progress on my novel. Ten thousand eight hundred precious seconds of uninterrupted writing time. I can hardly wait. Better get started. Jenny has to leave at 4pm sharp.

 1:10pm Remind me to close the door next time. Apparently, while I was making breakfast for the kids, Evan came in and...um...reorganized my stack of books. I've found about half of them so far, and the cover has only been torn off one (praise God it wasn't a library book). Glad I hadn't opened my can of root beer, though it appears my drink choice will still have to change. Better find the rest of these books before any more time is wasted.
  

1:45pm Well, I found my thesaurus: under Lily's rear end on the living room couch. That was when I remembered how much I loved this movie. Watching Julie Andrews sing "I Have Confidence" was enough to boost my own-self esteem, and I couldn't possibly get to writing when I knew the scene with the children marching down those stairs was coming so soon. Finally tore myself away when the family finished dinner.

Doesn't mean I'm not humming "My Favorite Things" as I get settled.

2:10pm I wish they'd turn down the volume on that TV. The soundtrack is lousy background music for my murder mystery. Every time I get into the ambiance and start writing those words, I hear the Von Trapps singing, or catch a favorite line from the movie. Totally ruins the mood.

Wish I had earplugs.

2:30pm For future reference: as odd as it may seem, stuffing cheetos in your ears is actually a very effective way to block out background noise.

3:05pm I am SOOO tempted to check Facebook. I just remembered Yvonne had a doctor's appointment about her hip, and I'm sure there's an update there now. Besides, I just found the most remarkable quote on writing in my reference book. Totally tweetable.

No, girl. Time is running out. The muse rules.

3:15pm The muse lost. Yvonne needs to have surgery. And I've already had 3 RTs on that quote. Good marketing, right? Getting my name out is important too - isn't it?

3:30pm Okay - really buckling down now. I will write out this scene. Half an hour? Plenty of time.

3:55pm I did it! Got my scene done. Certainly not as much as I'd hoped for three hours ago, but at least the scene is done.

But wait. I don't remember a hike through the Austrian Alps in my outline.

**

Thanks for reading. Don't forget to stop by Laury's blog for more great fiction.

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

Investigation: Friday Fiction

I have the distinct privilege of hosting Friday Fiction this week, for the lovely, charming, and sweet Karlene at Homespun Expressions. Whether you are a writer or not - please participate. Read all the wonderful stories writers are sharing on their blogs, by clicking on the links below this entry to lead you to these pieces. If you're a writer - join us! Post a story on your blog - or anywhere else on the internet - and link up in the Linky Tools gadget. And be sure to check out the others!

I wrote this entry earlier this month for the Faithwriters' Writing Challenge (was a rare appearance for me - lately anyway - that I'm hoping will be the start of a trend of somewhat more frequent submissions). The topic was "Manuscript." This story has LOTS of questions - some of which I don't yet have answers for. I have a feeling this is going to be a story I'll be returning to at some point (did a bit of that as I posted this - added a few new details and such). Hope you enjoy it!

INVESTIGATION

by Joanne Sher

It had been a year since this particular room had been full of children. Still, the silence felt odd and unsettling. The walls were still covered with brightly colored bulletin boards and childish works of art. Even odder, perhaps, was the yellowed sheet Melody had just picked up off the ladybug beanbag chair in the center of the room.

“I’ve never seen anything like this.” Melody held the paper, by its crinkled edges, in front of her, putting it up to the sunlight streaming through the classroom window. "In the months since we began searching these buildings, this is definitely the most unusual find I've come across."

“What? What is it?” Jake peered over her shoulder.

She shrugged. “I’m not positive, but it looks like a page from something—much older, it seems, than this building, much less the hurricane damage that isolated it for so long.”

The swirling script and elegance of the primary lettering certainly hearkened to an earlier time. Yet, the scribbles above the script and in the margins were just as certainly modern.

“But the other writing is in marker.” Jake spoke what Melody had only pondered. “And markers have only been around for 50 years or so.”

Melody nodded. “What would something like this be doing in an elementary school classroom? And why would someone write, in marker nonetheless, over script like this?"

Jake shrugged and reached for the paper. “Let me see.”

“Just by the edges, Jake. This looks extremely fragile.” She glided her hands toward him, her fingers scarcely keeping the document from falling to the floor.

He rolled his eyes and slipped the page from her fingers. “I’ve been at this longer than you have. I’ll be careful. Trust me.”

Melody scanned the rest of the room. Just like any other elementary classroom. She expected more of a mess, what with everyone having to get out so suddenly. Apparently the teacher kept an organized room.

From what she had been told, the weathermen had warned the people on the island--and in the school in particular--that the coming winds could take down the bridge. There had been mandatory evacuations. Apparently, everyone had heeded them, as not a single human body had been found (so far, anyhow) once the island was accessible again.

There had been plenty of interesting finds, but none as baffling as this single sheet of parchment.

On a hunch she lifted up the beanbag. Her eyes sparkled and widened.

“Jake: more papers.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. “Several dozen at least.”

She looked toward him to find that his eyes had not left the paper in his hand. “I know what this is.”

Melody leaped toward him. “What do you mean? What is it?”

Jake shook his head. “A handwritten text from Foxe’s Book of Martyrs."

Melody’s eyes shot open. “Seriously?”

“I recognize this paragraph.” He pointed to a spot near the top of the page.

She read it over Jake’s shoulder. Though it had been a few years since she’d read the book, the words before her certainly seemed familiar.

“Wow. Do you think this is an original manuscript?”

“Could be.” He handed the paper to Melody. “Did I hear you say you found more pages?”

Melody pointed at the pile on the floor. Jake knelt down in front of them, spread them out, and looked at the flowing letters, and marker scribbles, on each one.

She reached down and picked up several of the pages, focusing this time on the more recently penned script.

Why?

Such faith

Must be crazy

Unfair

Where did he get this hope?

These statements, and others like them, were scribbled on nearly every page.

Melody broke the silence. “Sounds like she was searching, doesn’t it?”

“Sure does.” Jake looked up and chuckled. “And if I’m reading this right, she may have found just what she was looking for.”

Jake gave Melody the first sheet they’d found and pointed to some large lettering in the right margin.

I want what he had.

**

Thanks for stopping by! Be sure to link up with your own fiction below, and/or read the wonderful contributions from my dear writing friends. You won't be sorry!



Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

Friday Fiction: "Mrs. Chillsome Chills Out"

ALMOST done with that "computer diet" - but I had to come out of hiding a BIT - since I am HOSTING Friday Fiction today!! (move is this evening, by the way - and I'll be without internet until Sunday some time after church - hopefully soon after I'll be around regularly again :D)





Be sure to link up in the MckLinky gadget below with your own fiction contribution - and read what others have posted. It's always a blessing!

This piece was TONS of fun to write, and it placed quite well in the FaithWriters Writing Challenge. I wrote it over 2 1/2 years ago, and it still makes me giggle (and wonder if I have an "Amanda Lynn" living in my house!).
Enjoy!

Mrs Chillsome Chills Out

"Now I want you all to sit cross-legged on the floor."

"Umm... Mrs. Chillsome?"

Sarah Chillsome groaned almost silently (almost). "Yes, Amy?"

"It's Amanda Lynn, please."

"Okay, Amanda Lynn. And you can call me Sarah. What do you need?"

"I can't sit cross-legged."

"Excuse me?"

"I am physically unable to sit Indian style. My limbs don't bend that way."

Sarah forced the corners of her mouth up. "Okay, then. Why don't you just sit in whatever position makes you most comfortable? Does that work?"

Amanda grinned, her eyes sparkling. "That sounds great. I'll just be sitting here with my knees bent in front of me. Would that be okay?"

"That's perfect." Sarah widened her gaze from Amanda Lynn to the other adults in her relaxation class. "Now rest your hands on your lap."

"Mrs. Chillsome, I don't really have a lap right now."

Half the class snickered.

"Well, then, Amanda Lynn, you could always rest them around the front part of your legs. It should give the same effect."

"That's a great idea, Mrs. Chillsome. I'll just do that."

"Wonderful." She took a deep breath. "All right now, class, close your eyes."

Sarah paused, waiting for an objection. After several seconds, she continued.

"Now take a deep breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth."

"Mrs. Chillsome? I have decreased lung capacity."

"You have what?"

"Decreased lung capacity. If I take too deep a breath I could start hyperventilating."

"I see." Sarah spoke slowly and deliberately. "I would recommend, then, that you only take as deep a breath as you can, um, safely."

Amanda Lynn hit herself lightly on the side of her head. "Now why didn't I think of that? You sure are helpful, Mrs. Chillsome."

"Thank you. Now, shall we get back to our relaxation techniques?"

"Sure. Sounds good to me."

That was a rhetorical question, you dingbat!

"Great. Return to your position, Amanda Lynn, dear, and we can continue."

"Okay - all set."

"Wonderful. Now continue with your breathing, and picture a peaceful place in your mind. Imagine yourself at the beach, on your porch swing, in a meadow: anywhere that you can just let go of all your stresses and worries. Focus on that scene, and let all your troubles flow out of you as you breathe out."

"Mrs. Chillsome?"

Sarah gritted her teeth. "Yes, Amanda Lynn."

"The hole in my mouth is too small. All my troubles won't fit."

"Why don't you just let them out a couple at a time, dear? They'll all escape sooner or later."

"Well, they keep sneaking back in up my nose."

She stifled back a snicker. "How about if you open your mouth a bit wider? Maybe that way more will get out than come back in."

"Thanks, Mrs. Chillsome. I'll definitely give that a try."

A couple minutes later, Sarah glanced at her watch and sighed. "Okay, class. Slowly open your eyes. Unfortunately, class is over. Thank you so much for coming. I hope this was helpful for you."

Sarah stood at the doorway and shook hands with each student in turn, apologizing with her eyes. Amanda Lynn was the last to exit.

She grabbed Sarah's hand eagerly. "Oh, Mrs. Chillsome, I just can't thank you enough. I feel so relaxed and calm now. That was such a wonderful class, I think I might just sign up for another!"

"Wonderful, Amanda Lynn," Sarah mumbled. "Just wonderful."

**
Thanks for reading - I covet your prayers for my move today - and be SURE to click on the links below for more great fiction!





Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence

"Contemplating History" - Friday Fiction

Yes - I am STILL on my computer diet - packing/moving is going well, and I've been QUITE scarce here. Not sure when I'll "really" be back, but the "big move" will be either a week from this evening or the next day (things a BIT up in the air). Thanks for your prayers.

Welcome to my contribution to Fiction Friday, hosted this week by Karlene at Homespun Expressions. Make sure that you head over to her blog and link up with your own fiction. Or, if you just want to read some great fiction (ALWAYS great in my opinion!), head over to Karlene's blog and check out the links there.

This was an EC winner from the FW writing challenge, AND it is in THIS EASTER'S edition of "The Gem," a Sunday school paper put out by the Church of God general conference (just got a notice, a copy, and a check in the mail yesterday!). And, of course, it reminded me of this poem I wrote (actually, God wrote it, cuz there is NO way it was me). It's a fave of mine. Praying it blesses you on this OH-SO APPROPRIATE Good Friday.

CONTEMPLATING HISTORY

A man - jaw set, countenance firm -
looked out in the distance
contemplating history,
recalling events of the past.

They said they loved the Lord,
that God was their Father.
Yet, Adam and Eve disobeyed,
eating of the forbidden tree.

And the man pursed his lips.

He said he would follow God,
that he trusted His direction.
Yet, Abraham bedded Hagar
to sire a son his own way.

And the man cringed.

They praised the Lord for miracles,
declaring their devotion to Him.
Yet the Israelites built an idol in the desert,
bowing low to a calf of gold.

And the man sighed.

He said he would fight for God,
that the Lord was his portion and provision.
Yet, Achan defied God's decrees,
stealing the spoil from his Maker.

And the man clenched his fist.

He said he would rule for God,
that he would lead His people righteously.
Yet, Saul took power into his own hands,
offering an unholy, forbidden sacrifice.

And the man closed his eyes.

He said that God was his shepherd,
that the Lord would meet his every want.
Yet, David sent a man to his death
to satisfy his own lust.

And the man wept.

He said he wanted Godly wisdom,
That he would serve Him only.
Yet, Solomon took wives by the hundreds,
and followed each of their gods.

And the man shook his head.

He was a prophet of the Most High,
speaking His pronouncements far and wide.
Yet, Jonah turned from Ninevah
and entered the great fish's belly.

And the man bowed his head.

They praised God with singing,
celebrating their return to the land.
Yet, the remnant neglected His temple,
letting its gates disintegrate.

And the man bit his lip.

They taught God's Word to the masses,
rebuking those who defied their authority.
Yet, the Pharisees hated His Son,
and worked to destroy Him.

And the man grit his teeth.

He marveled at Christ's miracles,
following and speaking for Him.
Yet Judas betrayed Jesus,
sending Him to death with a kiss.

And the man grimaced.

He said he would never leave Jesus,
declaring Christ was the Son of God.
Yet Peter turned his back on Him,
denying Him thrice in one night.

And the man scanned the crowd.

They said they were God's chosen,
following His laws and precepts.
Yet, the crowd rejected God's Son,
condemning Him to death on a cross.

And the Man examined His hands and feet.

"It is finished," He cried, and He gave up His spirit.
At that moment, the curtain of the temple
was torn in two from top to bottom.


**
Based on Genesis 3 and 16, Exodus 32, Joshua 7, 1 Samuel 13, 2 Samuel 11, 1 Kings 11, Jonah 1, Nehemiah, and the four Gospel accounts.

The direct Bible reference is taken from John 19:30 and Matthew 27:50b-51.

Thanks for reading! Be sure to stop by Karlene's blog for more great fiction.

Paving Rough Roads With God's Presence