Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inspiration. Show all posts

Monday, May 2, 2016

Inspiration

When C.S. Lewis was trying to describe how he got his inspiration for The Chronicles of Narnia, he wrote, "It all began with a picture of a Faun carrying an umbrella and parcels in a snowy woodland. This picture had been in my mind since I was about sixteen. Then one day, when I was about forty, I said to myself: 'Let's try to make a story about it.'" (You can read more of what he said here.) We all know what happened next, and some delightful stories were born.

Just like Mr. Lewis, I'm often not sure where my inspiration comes from. Sometimes it's another story, a song, a random Scripture verse, and yes, even pictures.

I didn't really know until I had finished writing the first draft of "The Book of Dreams' where it had come from, and even now I'm not completely sure. Maybe it was the book from the BBC Voyage of the Dawn Treader that had caught my fancy years ago or my fascination with Caspian's half-dwarf tutor. Maybe it was listening to an audio drama of "At the Back of the North Wind", reading "The Weight of Glory", or listening to Andrew Peterson music that filled me with a longing for heaven. Or maybe it was just my own random thought: "What if you were chosen to have an adventure?" 

This story has been one of the easiest for me to write. The words, especially the description, just seemed to flow into the keys of the computer. I felt almost like Handel frantically writing the Messiah. Although my siblings keep begging me to let "Letters for Victory" be published next, I've decided that it must be "The Book of Dreams". It's a story that I love and can't wait to share.

I will admit to you, that not all of my inspiration has been this glorified or extraordinary. Most of it comes from everyday life and interactions with my creative and amazing family. ; ) When I was describing Grandma Rowena, I pictured her as Grandma Nutt from the board game Candyland. ; ) Cool, right? (Cinnamon doesn't quite look like her peanut dog.)

I think some of my characters would protest if they knew their origins. So, dear Sir Larkin, Drewin and Ryla, Byron, Sienna, and everyone else please stop reading this post if you won't be able to handle it. ; ) I'm about to confess.
  • Sir Larkin--your name was originally a girl's name I heard at the Homeschooled Authors' book table in 2014. Very sorry, but I thought with the medieval twist it would work. Will you forgive me?
  • Drewin and Ryla--your names themselves are made up because I had run completely out of medieval names since I've overused the time period/genre. But I have an ever bigger confession to make. The name of your story (The Twin Arrows) is actual the name of a local casino. I didn't know where I had picked it up until I was idly reading the billboards on our way somewhere. I'm reclaiming it though. It's mine, and it's ours.
  • Byron--yes, I know I haven't visited your story in a while. I'm stuck. But your name was an awesome inspiration. I've read it almost every day of my life, and it was such a part of me that I didn't know it was the brand name on the tag of my teddy bear. He is very noble and unique, though; so you shouldn't be ashamed to be named after him. (And it's really not as bad as the random Pony Express rider who was named after my pencil case...)
  • Sienna--hello, again. I want another story for you, but we'll have to get to that sometime. I believe you are named after a local resort from yet another billboard. It's a beautiful name nonetheless, and I love it. ; )
  • Fiddler--I love you so much that I couldn't find a name good enough for you (and Edward already got a story, so I can't use that again); so that 's the real reason you don't have one. There's no geeky or cool reason for the "secret" except lack of inspiration and fear of ruining your awesomeness. (I don't think Isolde minds.)
  • Percy--you are so cool that I'm sorry you got that name. Only thing I could think of when you needed one. (At least you aren't stuck without one like "Mr. Strathmore's boy" or "the half-grown boy with the half-grown voice"...) And by the way, if you end up in a second story, you just got ten times cooler. I was reading the Arthurian tales the other day and crying over Sir Perceval's coming to Camelot. Your name is now short for Perceval. ; )
  • Isolde--you're name is also from the Arthurian tales, but hopefully your story won't be as tragic as Tristan and Yseult's. It's beautiful nonetheless, and I'm really not ashamed of it all. (You're sister Ariel is from one of Jerusalem's alternate names and the name of the sprite from The Tempest. I heard somewhere that they were naming people during the 1860s from the Bible and classics, so... And Shallia was completely from my own head.)
So it ranges from everything from billboards to Shakespeare, C.S. Lewis to teddy bears, and everything else in between. Sometimes with stories like "The Book of Dreams", I feel as if I am writing something beautiful and amazing that will bless many people and bring them closer to God. Other times I feel as if I am writing a collection of random ideas that is just a cheesy remake of The Princess Bride. And then I remember that, as long as I am writing for God, He will make something out of it that I could never have imagined being possible. He will use my crazy stories to change a life, even if it is only my own. So I keep writing. ; )




I've recently started using Pinterest to help with inspiration. I have boards for "The Book of Dreams", "Letters for Victory", "Fiddler's Bargain", "Awake", and another story currently (and boringly) known as "Kiera". I try to keep my boards God-honoring and kosher, but please use the site in general with caution. (Same warning as I give for YouTube.) And please note that there might be spoilers. ; ) 

Friday, March 18, 2016

Discovering, Breathing, Enjoying, and So On...

Yes, I have been extremely busy! You can just look at our church calendar and see at a glance 2/3s of what is filling our time. Add to that birthdays, celebrations, social events, and family ministry--wow!
Today's blog post is going to be a little different. So many awesome things have happened that I'm going to just share a few pictures of some of my favorite experiences. ; )


We celebrated Chum's birthday by feeding "eatmeal" to ducks at the park. He had a ton of fun!!


Chap and Uncle Paul watching the ducks.


Love that sweet smile!!!


Yeah, this is what I mostly did. ; )


On that same day, Pearl and I discovered our first Little Free Library! We had the back of our van full of rejected stock for our used book business, so we decided to take the time to fill the library with an assortment of books. It was so much fun, and we can't wait to do it again! ; )

Our evenings have been mostly occupied by church Bible studies. It's been a really good time of learning and fellowship! Mom, Aimee, Anna, and I are also going through the Botkin's Reclaiming Beauty study with some friends of ours and their homeschool group. We just had our third session today, and it's been really good so far.


Anna and I spent a huge chunk of one day decorating the backs of our notebooks with things we love. (Mine is on the left and hers is on the right.) ; ) It was a great sister togetherness time, and we were sad when the project ended. ; )

What else have I been doing? Well, living, experimenting (more on that later), discovering (love this creative community!), editing ("Mara"), breathing (glad to hear it, aren't you?), cleaning, studying (real Mount Sinai!!!), enjoying, loving, and learning (the Levites were presented to God as a "living sacrifice" just like we are to be!). 

Oh, and um... stories... Perry Elisabeth is hosting a short story contest!!! I'm so excited, and I can't wait to start on my submission. Also, if you go to my page on Noble Novels, you'll find the fifth part of "The Twin Arrows". (The suspense is building!!)

It's been an awesomely blessed week and a half! How was yours?

Monday, December 28, 2015

Package

I hope you all had a very merry Christmas and will have a happy new year!! ; ) If you enjoyed my story "Snowman" you also might like this companion story. It's written about a time just like this when you aren't exactly sure what holiday it is. ; ) I hope you enjoy and have a great whatever it is day!

Package
 Corrine tucked her light hair behind her ears and hummed a Christmas song as she moved about the tiny kitchen. Breaking into song, she voiced the words, “Smooth the batter with your spat-la, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. ‘Tis the season to be jolly, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la—Wow. Bad idea to skip the hot mitts this time.”
Sticking her tingling finger under the icy cold tap she had left running, she carefully shut the oven with her foot and used her free hand to set the timer. “Sean and Dad will love these goodies, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la. Christ-mas is for poisoning relatives, fa-la-la-la-la-la-la-la-laaaaaaa.” She stopped singing and caught her breath dramatically.
“Well, that was interesting…” a voice remarked from around the corner, and the speaker immediately earned an icy, cross-eyed glare.
“You were not supposed to hear that, Sean,” she said, spanking her brother with the dish towel she had been absentmindedly drying her blistered finger with.
“Couldn’t help it,” he said, shrugging unapologetically. Glancing at the eighty-odd dishes she had piled in the sink, he added, “What do we have here?”
She moved to spank him again, but he deftly took the towel from her hands. “No comments about my messiness please. Wanna’ help? Or you could go up in the attic and fix those speakers so we can have some real music.”
He eyed her thoughtfully. “Or participate in the world’s most epic battle of the DISH TOWELS!”
She squealed as he began to attack her with the dampish weapon and frantically opened drawers to find her own. “Ah, ha! A bulky hem,” she said, stretching her prize choice out for him to see. “Perfect for whacking the daylights out of meddlesome brothers.”
He had fallen back to regroup—basically take off his glasses so she wouldn’t break them again. “En guard!” he replied, and the battle was on.
Just then the front door opened and a crowd of people fell in. Corinne froze and looked up at her brother with wide-eyes. He stared back and twisted his dish towel nervously.
“I really hope they are related to us. No one else would understand this,” Sean said tragically.
Corinne tried to smother her giggles and ended up snorting into her hand and turning very Christmas-y colors. Sean’s eyes began to water with internal laughter; and, fortunately for them, it was only relatives who found them moments later.
Mom carefully settled a magnificent gingerbread house in the middle of the dinner table, and the younger children gathered to gaze at it and discuss the different candies one more time.
Sean and Corinne were still recovering from their hilarious battle when their middle sister Kristyn came into the kitchen. Placing one hand on her hip and arching an eyebrow, she observed playfully, “So I see the boring people who stayed home from the gingerbread house party weren’t so bored after all.”
Corinne would have spanked her with a dish towel if she had had one; but her older brother replaced his glasses and said quite peaceably, “You see correctly.”
“And besides, boring sister here had her ‘crrrrazy project’ to work on,” Corinne reminded her.
Kristyn grinned. “Did you figure out who your gift this year is for yet?”
“Nopers.”
Kristyn shook her head with a mock sigh. Her older sister was saved from further comments by the sound of the kitchen timer and an erupting argument between the littles about whether or not licorice was actually alcohol. Corinne hurried over to the oven, slid her hands into mitts twice their size, and removed the brownies.
“Oh, Mom,” she called over siblings short and tall. “That reminds me. I need to go to the post office to send my package.”
“They’ve already closed up tonight, but I’m sure Dad could take you in the morning. He has some errands downtown anyway,” Mom assured her. “Like the gingerbread house?”
All eyes turned to look at her and asked the same question. She smiled and nodded. “And I’m looking forward to eating one of those chocolate windows.”
Conversation returned and somewhere underneath it a little voice could be heard counting the peppermints and dividing the number to see just how many he could possibly eat when the time came. It was terrible sitting there with it just in reach and knowing he had to wait until Christmas. Two days was too long.
He was still staring at it during dinner when Dad said, “Do you want to come with us tomorrow, Arron?”
Everyone was looking at him. “W-what?”
“Dad is taking me to the post office tomorrow morning, and you’re welcome to come with us if you want,” Corinne explained with a little smile.
“Oh, sure.” He gave a toothless grin.
The evening passed quickly—too quickly at least for everyone who wasn’t dying to eat the gingerbread house and was actually enjoying the anticipation of Christmas. Corrine had another problem on her mind that made her wish tomorrow would wait longer in coming. Who was she going to send her gift to?
Every year since she had come to Christ, He had laid it on her heart to make a special little gift and give it to whoever He told her to. Every year He had told her who in one way or another. But she still didn’t know yet, and she would be going to the post office the next morning.
Yawning, she turned out the light in the girl’s bedroom. As she fell asleep, she prayed for wisdom then decided to let tomorrow worry about itself.

Arron was up with the first light and already more awake than she was as they climbed into the family car. “I feel like I should say ‘good morning, Corinne’ and ‘good afternoon, Arron’,” Dad joked as they pulled out of the driveway.
Corinne smiled and settled her package more securely on her lap. The blank space for the address looked odd and irked her somehow. Couldn’t she just choose someone on her own? But she knew that wasn’t how it worked. She had committed to let God decide, and she would just have to wait for His answer.
Arron was jabbering in the back seat about the gingerbread house, and she called her thoughts back to the special time at hand. A few miles down the road and three versions of Feliz Navidad later, they had turned off the radio and pulled into the parking lot of the Chesslie Post Office. A few white mail trucks passed them and more were pulling out of the driveway.
“Ready?” Dad asked, turning to her with a smile.
“Nopers, but I’ll do it anyway,” she replied, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the side door.
“Good luck!”
“Bye!” Arron said before turning back to drawing faces in the frost on his window.
Holding the package tightly in one arm, she slammed her door shut and hurried up to the shining glass doors. No address on her package yet. She was crazy to be doing this.
“Last minute gift, eh?” a voice said, and she looked up to see the young man who had been standing there dusting snow off his coat.
He was holding the door for her; and, as she moved through it, she said with a bright smile, “That’s right. I do hope they get it in time for Christmas day.”
As he followed her through the door, she noticed he was looking at the package. “No address, I know. I really don’t know who it’s for yet.” She grinned sheepishly.
He lifted one eyebrow but didn’t ask any more questions. She found herself strangely glad. This was getting awkward. How was she supposed to take her package up to the counter and tell the clerk that she wanted to send a package but she didn’t know where?
Fortunately there was a bit of a line; so she sat down in a chair, settled her purse and her package in her lap, and began to pray. “Hi God. It’s me, Corinne, again. Who do you want me to send this Christmas gift to?”
She waited, but there was no audible answer. She hadn’t expected one exactly, but it would have been nice. “Better get my Sharpie out of my purse, so I’m ready when He tells me,” she thought.
Her purse was a mess. Kristyn called it “the bottomless pit” once, and Adelinne had countered by affectionately calling it a “bag of tricks”. Either was pretty bad, in Corinne’s humble opinion. She found the Sharpie despite the gum wrappers, old receipts, and compact mirror that threatened to stop her. Mercifully, the only thing that fell out of her bottomless bag of tricks was a lavender-colored business card.
She flipped it over. Why had it been in her purse again? Adelinne had given it to her because it was her favorite color. She had probably gotten it from Arron who collected business cards since stamps were too expensive. An address! It had an address on it!
“Oh, thank you! I have it now!” she said aloud.
The clerk was looking at her strangely.
“Sorry,” she said with a little smile.
“Can I help you next?”
The line was gone. “Oh, yeah, just a minute. Let me write out this address a second.”
A few minutes later, she emerged triumphantly from the post office, still holding the business card in one hand.
“Did you find out who to send it to?” Dad asked as she got in the car.
“Melanie Tweeny, piano teacher, is getting a wool scarf for Christmas,” she said happily, handing him the business card.
“Then hooray for Corinne, and hooray for God!” Arron interjected.

Corinne was sitting in a folding chair in the middle of living room with a pile of Christmas lights at her feet. She wanted to sing, but she wasn’t sure what since it was too late to sing Christmas carols and too early to sing the one good New Year’s song.
“What would you sing in this no man’s land between Christmas and next year?” she asked Kristyn, who was carefully packing away the ornaments they had taken from the tree that morning.
“How about ‘Let It Snow’?” her sister offered.
Wagging her head with a huge red bow fixed to the top of it, Adelinne added, “Yes, do. It seems so lonely without music.”
Coming in moments later, the boys were greeted by three laughing sisters who immediately began singing another verse of their odd song. “You both look rather frightful, but we’re sure the walk was delightful. Now since you’ve no place to go, help us…”
“Nothing rhymes,” Adelinne said, exchanging glances with Kristyn.
“Spreading the disease, Corinne?” Sean said, looking at her over his glasses with amused disapproval.
She gave him what she thought looked like a very innocent face and Arron laughed. “Not exactly the desired effect,” she said wryly.
“Well, anyway, you have mail. Something from a Melissa—no, wait it was Melanie—yeah, Melanie Tweeny. Whoever that is,” Sean said, running his fingers through his hair.
“Melanie Tweeny! Isn’t that—“ Kristyn almost swallowed the tiny piece of candy cane she was sucking on.
“That’s the woman I sent my package to this year,” Corinne said with surprise. “They never write back.”
“This one did,” Arron said, plopping the envelope down on her lap.
They all drew back respectfully and waited for her to read it.
“What did she say?” Adelinne asked, seconds later.
“I’ll read it aloud. ‘Dear Corinne, I loved receiving your gift. Since I’m an older lady, I get cold a lot more often now, and the warm scarf was just what I needed. I don’t need to ask if you made it yourself, because I’m sure you did. It’s very beautiful. I’m a little short on friends right now, and I’d like to invite you and your family to come over tomorrow if it’s all right with your parents. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Mrs. Melanie Tweeny.’ There you are,” Corinne said.
“Wow,” was all Sean could think of to say.
“Let’s take a break and show this to Mom and Dad.”

The next day, almost New Year’s but not quite, the whole family found themselves packed into the van and on their way to Mrs. Tweeny’s. They were literally packed in, since coats and sweaters made them a lot bigger than usual.
“You know something,” Arron told Corinne, pressing his nose against the frosty window. “It’s sad that Christmas is over, but at least ‘Feliz Navidad’ isn’t on the radio anymore.”
Corinne laughed and ruffled his hair. Although she could laugh, she felt a little nervous in the pit of her stomach. Never before had she been able to meet one of the people she had sent a package to. It was exciting and scary at the same time.
Dad turned the van down another street, and she knew from the signs that they were getting close. The neighborhood was half decorated for Christmas and half not. Since it was a sunny day, they noticed that a few people were out in their yards taking down their decorations.
When they reached Mrs. Tweeny’s house, there was a man on the roof who waved to them with one hand and held a coiled string of Christmas lights with the other. They waved back as they piled out of the van. Taking the baby out of her seat, Corinne handed her to Mother and followed Arron out of the van then shut the door behind her.
Walking up the cracked sidewalk, she joined her family at the door and waited as Adelinne rang the doorbell. No answer.
“Try again,” Mom said.
She tried again and nothing happened. They even tried knocking since they knew that sometimes old doorbells didn’t work. Just when they were deciding to leave, the man came down off the roof and tucked his roll of Christmas lights into a dilapidated cardboard box.
“Hey, can I help you all?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his pants and shaking hands with Dad. “I’m Mrs. Tweeny’s nephew.”
“Nice to meet you. Mrs. Tweeny invited us over for a visit. We’ve been ringing the doorbell, but nothing has happened. Is it broken?” Dad asked.
The man laughed. “She’s probably playing piano in the back room. Want me to go in and tell her you’re here?”
The family all nodded at once and told him “thank you” then waited while he went inside. A moment later, a tall older lady with curled gray hair and a moss green dress opened the door.
“Hello, everyone! Do come in! I’m so happy to see you!” She opened the door and let them come in, talking all the while. Her nephew was standing next to her, looking rather amused. “I’m so sorry I didn’t answer the door, but I have to get all the Christmas songs in I can before the season is officially over. Sometimes I can’t hear anything over the grand, especially when I play Handel.”
Mrs. Tweeny was one of those remarkable people who was able to talk, urge you over to the living room, make you feel quite at home, and seem to know you completely by the time she was done with the process. The whole family found themselves sitting around the living room, some on the rug and others squeezed together on the tiny sofa, listening to her hilarious stories of being a piano teacher.
“There was one little girl who was about…your age I think,” she said, looking at Adelinne with a bright smile. “She used to tell me that she couldn’t play the piano unless she took her shoes off. I only smiled at that, but when she took them off at a recital I nearly died of laughter.”
Everyone laughed, especially when Sean added, “Just better hope she’s not a famous pianist someday. Who knows what she’ll do.”
Mrs. Tweeny laughed the hardest; and, when she had finished, she asked, “Which one is Corinne?”
Corinne raised her hand and gave a shy wave. “I am.”
“Thank you so much for the Christmas gift dear! It blessed me so much,” she said, laying a hand on the girl’s arm. “Now, tell me, what made you decide to send it to me?”
“Well, it sounds funny when you say it out loud, but God did. Every year since I really came to Him, I’ve been making an extra gift each Christmas and sending it to whomever He wants me to. It’s been everything from a decorated mug to a store bought book,” she explained, hoping the older lady would understand.
“Why that’s wonderful! A nice way of showing faith in Him and love to other people,” Mrs. Tweeny said. “I feel even more special now that I know.”
            Corinne smiled. “Thank you for your encouragement.”
            “So how did you decide to become a piano teacher?” Kristyn asked, hugging her knees to herself.
            “Well, I’ve always loved music and—“ Her eyes fell upon Arron. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. I made some goodies you all can have if it’s all right with your parents.” She started to rise from her chair.
            “Corinne and Arron, would you get them for her please?” Mom asked, then added when the older lady started to protest, “Where are they?”
            “We’d love to help you this way. Honest,” Arron said, happy to rise and stretch his legs.
            Mrs. Tweeny sat down again and smiled. “You dear people. Blake, will you show them to the ice box, please?”
            Her nephew stood up and led them into the kitchen, then opened the refrigerator door for them. Corinne took out a tray of tiny cheesecakes and handed them to Arron before taking the other tray herself.
            Blake shut the refrigerator door again, and she said, “Thank you. Always opening doors, aren’t you?”
            “I suppose so,” he replied, looking at her strangely. “Oh, that’s right! I know you from the post office. You’re the one who didn’t know where your package was going.”
            “Yes, that’s right,” she said, smiling. Then she balanced the tray on one hand and offered the other, “I’m Corinne.”
            “I’m Blake,” he said, shaking it. “Nice to meet you. Who could ever have imagined that that package would show up here?”
            “I’d call it God’s sense of humor, I suppose,” Corinne said with a little laugh.
            “Indeed,” Blake replied. “Sure you don’t need help with that tray, Arron?”
            “No thanks, I can eat it all by myself,” Arron said, slyly.
            Corinne laughed happily as she came into the living room and set her tray down on the table next to Mrs. Tweeny.
            “Thank you, dear,” the older lady said. “And I’ll still say ‘Merry Christmas’ just because I like to.”
            “Merry Christmas to you as well,” Corinne replied.



Friday, December 11, 2015

The Carol of the Bells (x3)

I love the song "The Carol of the Bells", and I love three different version for three different reasons to boot! ; ) Would you like to hear them? Enjoy, and remember to be careful since YouTube is a secular site!


First off is this Irish-y, awesome-y version by Keith and Kristyn Getty. 
I love the peppy, excited sound! ; )


And the PianoGuys version meshed with "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen"...very dramatic. My littlest sister used to love pretending to sneak up on something whenever we listened to this song. ; ) 
Love the cello!


I had to share this one just because it's funny, and I love the Swedish Chef. ; )

Which one is your favorite?

Monday, December 7, 2015

Snowman

Merry Christmastime, all! I've been puzzling over just when you start saying "Merry Christmas", so I've decided to include the whole season in my greeting for now. ;) 

And now a little gift for you...my most recent Christmas story! It was inspired by wanting to have something to write, a Scripture verse that has been stuck in my head, and my fascination with country mailmen. ;) I hope you enjoy!!

Snowman
            Blake pulled on his snow boots and opened the front door. A cold gust of wind slapped him in the face, and he slammed the door shut hastily. Sitting down again, he pulled on another pair of socks and wound a thick scarf around his neck. He clomped over to his closet and said ruefully to the German shepherd that dutifully followed him, “It’s gonna’ take more than a regular coat today, old girl.”
            He yanked his heavy overcoat out of the closet and threw its broken hanger across the room into a waste basket. “Twelve miles to Chesslie, and the whole route on Christmas Eve. Calculate in the snow…” he mumbled into his scarf as he twisted the double-breasted buttons into their holes. “We should make it back in time for dinner. However lively that will be.”
            He didn’t say a word as man and dog walked out the door together. Thoughts about dinner had been quickly replaced by worry over the weather. If the local weathermen weren’t playing a joke on them, they were truly in for a storm. Seconds later, he confirmed their predictions by running his hand along the hood of his truck and absently measuring the snow. Two inches already. Getting to Chesslie was one thing but getting back was a whole other matter. Better chain up.
            “Minstrel,” he called, when he was done. The dog turned her attention from the snowflakes she was barking at and bounded over to the open truck door.
            Shaking the snow from her coat, Minstrel hopped up expertly onto the passenger’s seat; and Blake shut the door behind her. Tipping his head back to look up at the sky, he squinted his light eyes from the falling snow. This was no weatherman prank. Shaking his head, he prayed for safety and hoisted himself into the driver’s seat.
            The truck engine sputtered to a start, and he began to ease it down the driveway. “Granny gear all the way to town, it’s looking like. Never go out before the plows,” he remarked as they moved slowly down the road. “That snow’s moving faster than we are.”
            Minstrel sat up for a moment to look out the window then whined and lay back down on the seat next to him. The ancient heater did its best to drive the cold air out of the cab; but, despite its efforts and two pairs of socks, Blake found his feet were growing numb on the pedals. Turning on the radio, he listened as a static-y Christmas station and a definitely Canadian talk show mixed themselves together and came through his speakers. At least the odd noise was some company on the road. Everyone else had decided to wait for the plows.
            The drive proved uneventful and maddeningly long until they pulled up outside of the Chesslie Post Office. The snow wasn’t as thick in town, but the parking lot was empty of all vehicles except the box-like white trucks that covered the town routes. He was the only rural mailman that had dared to come. Better to be out in the snow than dying of bored loneliness at home.
            Jumping down from the truck, he untangled his arm from the seatbelt and slammed the snowy door behind him. A few uniformed mailmen glanced over at him before getting into their own vehicles. Giving a goofy salute after them, he said ruefully, “Yes, sir, the hick is here.”
            Stamping his boots together and doing his best to dust some snow off his coat, Blake looked up in time to see a young woman coming towards the door with a large package in her arms. He opened the door and moved politely aside, saying, “Last minute gift, eh?”
            She looked up with a bright smile. “That’s right. I do hope they get it in time for Christmas day.”
            Blake glanced at the package again. Something about it struck him as odd, and she voiced his thoughts a moment later. “No address, I know. I really don’t know who it’s for yet.” She grinned sheepishly.
            He lifted one eyebrow in surprise, but she didn’t tell him any more. He was still thinking about this odd exchange as he pulled out of the parking lot with his load of mail. “You know, Minstrel, I bet a lot of people are hoping this mail will get to its owners in time for Christmas just like she did. Maybe I didn’t come to work today just because I was bored and certifiably insane.”
            He reached down to scratch the patient dog’s ears. “Maybe it’s my Christmas mission from God. That’s really not as goofy as it sounds—it could be really important to Him that people get their mail. He knows about swallows and hair and stuff. He of course knows about the mail.”
            Blake sat up a little straighter. It was all he could do at the moment to “work as unto the Lord and not to men”, but he whistled a Christmas carol with renewed purpose. The plows had been through, but the snow was still falling; and he watched the road carefully for any signs of ice.
            Suddenly, Minstrel sat up and barked. Peering ahead through the frosty windshield, he saw a minivan pulled off the side of the road. Five very bundled up people were standing in a circle nearby with their heads bowed. Blake slowed down next to them and rolled down the window. The sound of his idling motor made them open their eyes, and he said cheerfully, “Need a shovel?”
            The tallest one, probably the father, waded towards him and pulled his scarf away from his mouth. “Thanks for the offer,” he replied, “but it’s actually broken down.”
            “Sure thing,” Blake said. He put his foot on the pedal and was about to drive away when a thought struck him. “Hey, where do you need to go?”
            The bearded man turned back around and came up to his window again. “Just up the hill. We live in the community up there.”
            “So do I. It’s my route. Hop in if you like,” he offered.
            The family looked at each other, then one of them opened the side door and the others piled in. Minstrel moved to the floor, and the father and one of his children took her place on the front bench.
            “You know,” the father began a little uncomfortably. “You’re an answer to our prayers.”
            Blake grinned widely and slapped his knee. “I knew He sent me to work today for more reason than just my being bored.”
            The family smiled too and began to lift their voices together in beautiful Christmas carols. Who needed a static-y Canadian-Christmas-talk-show-station now? The beautiful music filled the cab and already the frigid day seemed warmer. The mailman found himself not minding granny gear so much anymore, and Minstrel fell asleep from the fond pats the pink-nosed little boy gave her.
            They continued up the hill before stopping at the first house, and Blake got out to rummage through the mail. Finding the right address, he slipped a few envelopes into the mailbox and got back in the running vehicle.
            “Is this always your job?” one of the kids asked curiously.
            Blake nodded in the rearview mirror. One of the boys declared that he wanted to be a mailman when he grew up causing everyone to smile. A few mailboxes later, the mother said, “Well, here’s ours.”
            Blake stopped the truck and got out with them. Looking through the mail again, he said, “Oh, so you are the Andrews. I have a bit of interesting mail for you.” Smiling widely, he pulled out an oddly-shaped package addressed to the boys and handed it to one of them. Giving the rest of the mail to their father, including a green envelope, he added, “I’d better be off now.”
            “Thank you, and Merry Christmas!” They said, waving as they turned towards the house.
            “Same to you!” he called from his open car window.
            A little farther down the road, he rolled up his window and shivered. The snow had started again. There would be many more mailboxes to get done before dark, and he only had a few hours. Luckily the post office would close early, and he didn’t have to bring any outgoing mail back tonight.
            Whistling one of the cheery songs his new friends had taught him, he methodically worked his way through the route of mailboxes he had to fill. There wasn’t usually much mail on Christmas Eve, but it seemed that this year everyone got at least one piece of mail. It was always a green envelope with a gold seal just like the one he had given the Andrews family.
            Everyone seemed to think he was crazy for being out, but they were also very glad to get their mail. One older lady thanked him with a cup of coffee that helped to keep him warm as the daylight began to fade. Christmas lights came on about that time and helped to show him where the next house would be.
            Stopping at the second to last house, he jumped out of his truck and carried the mail up to the front steps shielding it from the snow with his coat. He rang the doorbell and waited as a voice said from within, “I’m coming, I’m coming,” accompanied by the sound of shuffling feet and a thumping cane.
            A wizened old man opened the door and peered out at him.
            “Merry Christmas, sir, here’s your mail,” Blake said, glad for the shelter of the porch roof.
            “Same to you, and thank you,” the elderly man said gruffly, looking over his glasses at the addresses on his mail. He lingered longest over a green envelope.
            “You’re welcome,” the mailman replied, shoving his mittened hands into his pockets.
            “You know,” the other man said, pointing a finger at him. A wheezing laugh came up from his throat and made it impossible for him to speak for a moment. “You look as round as a snowman with so many wraps on. Could be one too with all the snow you’ve collected.”
            Blake gave a wry smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
            “You should be called the snowman instead of the mailman. It could almost be a super hero name,” the man said, getting deeper into his joke. “You’d have to be one to be out in this weather. Either that or crazy.”
            Blake laughed this time. “Merry Christmas, sir.”
            One more house to deliver and only a small package and two white envelopes. No green one here. He sighed when he realized that this house was the one belonging to the pastor’s family. It had a long narrow driveway that had more than likely been neglected by the plows.
            His sanity had been doubted twice that day, but he determined that he would go no farther. Braking to a stop at the bottom of the hill, he leaned back in his seat to think. The Chesslie Post Office wouldn’t mind if he turned back now and delivered the mail another day. It was definitely impossible to drive up such a steep and snowy hill. But he wasn’t working for the post office anymore. He was working “as unto the Lord”.
            He made his decision. Finishing off his coffee, he declared, “Minstrel, old girl. This snowman super hero on a Christmas mail mission for God is going in. You are going with him because it’s too cold for you to stay that long in the truck.”
            Jumping out, he opened the door for her like a true gentleman and tucked the mail into the front of his overcoat. “It’s going to be a long walk, but one of our New Year’s resolutions was going to be more exercise. We’ll survive.”
            They did survive, but it wasn’t very pleasant hiking through drifts to deliver a few pieces of mail. The snow had stopped, and icy white stars glared down at them through patches in the receding clouds. The lights of the house soon came into view, and Blake smiled as he neared the twinkling icicle lights.
            Pausing to admire the homemade wreath, he knocked on the door and waited. Minstrel sat patiently next to him only breaking from her stance to bark a greeting at the dog who really owned the place.
            The front door opened, and a wave of warmth and music reached out onto the porch. “Hello, and Merry Christmas,” the pastor said with a welcoming smile. “Come for the party?”
            Blake was flummoxed by this greeting. “I just brought the mail.”
            “Walked here, did you?” the pastor said with surprise as the cold mailman handed him the parcels.
            Blake nodded.
            “Thank you very much. It’s just in time too. You’re welcome to join us. We meant to send you an invitation anyway,” the pastor replied, smiling.
            “Oh, thanks for the offer, but I have my dog with me.”
            The pastor looked down at Minstrel. “She’s welcome too.”
            “Thank you very much, sir; and Merry Christmas to you as well.”
            With these words, Blake and his dog entered the warm living room. Many people were gathered around the piano singing Christmas carols, and others chatted companionably at the refreshment tables. The Andrews waved to him, and he recognized several others to whom he had delivered mail. Removing his coats, snow boots, hat, and scarf, he handed these to the waiting pastor’s wife and joined the others around the piano.
            The door opened again a little while later, and an old man came in with one of the pastor’s sons who had brought him there on the family snowmobile. He shed his coat and tottered straight over to Blake. Clapping him on the back, he said heartily, “Hello again, Mr. Snowman. Thanks for bringing me my green envelope.” He waved the invitation for the astonished mailman to see.
            So, it had been important for the mail to get delivered that day! If he had stayed home, none of these people would have known to come to the party. They would certainly have missed out, and he would have too. He wouldn’t have been there to help the Andrews get home either.
            “You’re welcome, sir,” he said with a smile.
            Listening to the beautiful music around him, he mused over his day. He hadn’t known before why he was out delivering mail during a storm, but now it all made sense. God had used his loneliness to give many others gifts and give him one too—community.
            It was certainly interesting working “as unto the Lord”.



If you enjoyed this story, you might also enjoy my other Christmas short stories. 


Monday, November 16, 2015

Baking with Absolutely Nothing

We've had a wild weekend, so today is a catch-up day and a birthday celebration all in one. ;) I'll tell you all about it later, so for now I leave you with this adventure from a few weeks ago...

It all started when I decided I should try to bake something out of absolutely nothing. Well, not quite nothing. Just no eggs, no butter (or at least hardly any to speak of), no whipping cream, and no baking chocolate. I spent over an hour searching the internet for recipes that had the keywords “eggless”, “lemon”, and “cream cheese”. (It’s pretty rare for us to have cream cheese. The only reason we did was because I forgot we had some and didn’t use it on our bagels.) ; )

If you’re eggless you’re supposedly vegan, and they don’t use cream cheese. If you are using cream cheese, you’re probably going to make cheese cake; and you definitely need cream. And if you want to switch over from lemon to something with chocolate, you of course need baking chocolate.

For once, the internet had nothing. Nothing for my unique circumstances, that is. I did find a few recipes to save for later when we finally grocery shopped and it was the proper time between sweets again.

So I got very daring. I decided to make something up.

Cutting my precious loaf of cream cheese in half, just in case one of my experiments turned out super disgusting, I made a lemony-spready-thingy out of part of it. It didn’t turn out the bestest ever (baking gives me lapses in grammar); but what I did with the other half of the cream cheese turned out pretty amazing. Which is nothing short of a miracle, since I had nothing to go on; and I have a reputation of being a walking kitchen disaster.

Taking the other half of the cream cheese, I whipped it up in the blender with some powdered sugar, milk, and cocoa powder. (No baking chocolate!) It turned out really chocolate-y, and cream cheese-y, and lapses-in-grammar-y with just the perfect hint of sweetness. And my taste testers had very positive things to say. So far so good.

Then I got really creative. I’ve recently been drooling over a book on mini pies, so I immediately decided that this pudding stuff wouldn’t stay pudding stuff. I had been fortunate enough to find a few pie crust recipes that didn’t take oil (I was searching sour cream ones before I found out that the tub we had in the frig was two months out of code); but I also was advised by dear Mom that that wouldn’t be the right thing for the filling I had made. Think, think, think. No graham crackers. We buy those about as often as Shemitah and the blood moons line up.

We had some Nutter Butter cookies in the pantry which I decided would have to do, and I gleefully smashed them up with a rolling pin. Taking the half stick of butter left in the house (it wasn’t enough for anything else anyway), I mixed it with the cookie crumbs and a bit of powdered sugar into a gooey, icky-looking dough.

Don’t laugh, but I greased three spaces of our twelve count muffin tin (that’s all I could make!) and pressed the crust into it. After it had baked in the oven for a while, I took it out and was surprised to find that the crust had risen and completely filled up the muffin spaces. So much for filling. I really should have looked up how to do this. Doing the only thing possible, I smashed the middle of each down with a spoon while it was still hot and left them to cool until I felt I could take them out without breaking them.

They broke a little when I took them out; but that pleased the taste testers (who thought this part tasted good as well), and I was able to paste most of it back together with the filling. Carefully spooning in the filling so that the walls of cookie would not crumble, I admired my work and asked for a bit of Dad and Mom’s chocolate syrup for their coffee to drizzle on top. Now it looked like something real; not just crazy Kate’s unnamed experiment that might turn out to be a real treat or the new atom bomb.

I put it in the refrigerator until we ate it the next day. There was only three, remember? Perfect number for our family to divide up. Everyone ended up with an allotted piece, and the taste tasters were satisfied again. (There were even offers to buy the pieces that belonged to people who couldn’t eat them yet.) I was surprised, delighted, and blessed. I’ve ruined so many real recipes before (or at least almost ruined them) that who could have guessed a complete experiment would turn out so well?

I really enjoyed baking this dessert out of absolutely nothing (or almost nothing, anyway) and really enjoyed eating it. Next time, I’ll use all the cream cheese, more Nutter Butters, and possibly a mini muffin tin so the “recipe” stretches farther. And I’ll look up parbaking or whatever it’s called. ; )

Now, what do I do with that lemon frosting stuff? Hmm…


And isn’t amazing how God can orchestrate something as small as forgetting to use the cream cheese so that I had it later when I wanted to bake something?



Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Free Book!!!

I've been really busy lately, but I wanted to jump on here just a second to share a review of one of my favorite books. Also notice that the prequel is free on Kindle today! ;)

http://breezytulip.com/2015/book-review-the-green-ember/

Have you read it?

Saturday, September 26, 2015

A Camping We Did Go

Last weekend, my family and I had the awesome adventure of going to our church's family camp together! Since it was an hour or so north of here, we got to enjoy a taste of greenness once again. The best parts, though, were sharing a cabin duplex with Perry and Tyler (and the BABIES!!!!!!) and getting to know our church family better.

After packing way too much clothing; gathering card games; baking and popping food (I made these cookies and popped four huge batches of popcorn. I even used up all the coconut oil and melted the lid just to make it more fun.); finishing up the sermon (Dad did that part. We only pack things and melt things.); collecting random forgotten things; and smashing it into the back of the van (Paul saying his typical, "Hey guys, don't open that one door. Everything will come out.), we started off on our adventure. Wow, that was a run-on sentence if ever I saw one!


Some of my lovely road-trip buddies. (My angel mother is in the passenger seat, but since she is shining like the sun you can't tell she's there.) We are veteran road-trippers now from our move down here last winter, so an hour doesn't feel like much. ; ) Dad had an awesome time pointing out real and imagined landmarks to us, and we kept ourselves clapping and bouncing with the PianoGuys.


The rest of my lovely (????) buddies. Weird angle because I'm sharing a seat with them, but you get the idea that it was pretty fun. ; ) (Oh, is Paul an angel too? I'll leave that for you to decide... No, he is an angel for sharing a seat with all the copious amounts of bedding we brought.)

 A little while later (we used to drive this far to go grocery shopping). we arrived at Friendly Pines just in time to throw everything into the cabin and run off to the cafeteria for dinner. After that came a chapel session, organizing our cabiny-messy-thingy, and games in the cafeteria until the wee hours of the morning.


Next morning we all walked to church. (It should always be this way, shouldn't it?) It was beautiful outside!!! At just about every session of chapel our family enjoyed mixing with Perry and Tyler's little family and the H. family as well.


Our fantastic little neighbors. They were the best thing about the weekend!! Unfortunately, they were so cute that we had a really hard time not laughing out loud during the sermon.


Especially when this one sneezed so hard he almost fell over...or when his older brother dumped a toy dump truck load of dirt into my lap...or when the camp cat startled one of them out of their wits when it came scampering by. Yeah, pretty cute. ; ) Don't you just love those funny eyes???


The theme of the weekend was revival, and Dad chose a really amazing aspect of the whole topic for his sermon Saturday morning. I HIGHLY suggest you listen to his sermon "Don't Lose Heart". It was very encouraging!!! (Special thanks to Anna for taking the picture because I couldn't see Dad very well through some people's heads.)

Saturday is probably everyone's hands-down favorite day of camp. That's because of....


FIELD GAMES!!!! I watched the first few games from the sidelines, but after a while I wished I had joined in. ; ) This game was a crazy relay race of trying to bat a balloon down the field without popping it. Add to that an ornery breeze and some surprisingly sharp grass--you get the picture. ; )


Another great one was passing a hula hoop around a circle of people without letting go of each other's hands. That was pretty crazy, but a high-five to everyone who managed it especially those wearing skirts.

We didn't get pictures of my favorite relay race (also the first game I played), but it was pretty fun/funny! All of us players threw our shoes in a huge, stinky pile at one end of the field and lined up on the other. You've probably guessed the objective--run across the field, find your shoes, cram them on, and make it back to your team without them falling off. There were some pretty hilarious stunts too, like my brother-in-law throwing his best friends' shoes out of the pile so they would have to go farther to find them. Thumbs up, Tyler! It was pretty hard to find my shoes (since apparently brown is the most common color); and I found myself wishing for one of the first times ever that I had flip-flops. ; ) I'm not sure how the scoring came out, but my team was awesome!! ; )


The tug-o'-wars were awesome!! This picture is kids against adults. You'll find me on the kids' side because this was taken before a couple of older girls and I realized that we belonged on the other team. ; P We lost the first one since our church is mostly children, but we won the second! ; )


That's my little buddy!

The rest of the weekend consisted of more hanging out (I did a little exploring with my friend Hannah and chatted some with her older sister), chapel sessions (I loved the history of the laymen's revival), an amazing bonfire (S'mores. That's what we exist for.), and amazing games in the cafeteria. (Some of my family members brought crafts to do with everyone, but I never got around to doing them.) Those times of all sitting around together laughing and talking or trying to beat each other at Dutch Blitz were my favorite times of all. That's when I got to know people (and sometimes got to beat them too!). ; )


Hanging out with the H. girls was my younger sisters' favorite thing about their first family camp (that they can remember, at least). I got to hang out with them a lot of the time which was so much fun! We visited their favorite spot at camp (nicknamed "the L tree"  for it's unusual shape), visited each  other's cabins (this picture was taken in ours), and sat together during church and the group picture. ;)

Altogether, it was an amazing time of fellowship and learning from God's word! And I highly suggest you all check out my Dad's sermon. ;)

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

Hilarious and Lively


Aren't they darling?? They had a great time at their little table. ;) I am so grateful for my little sisters and my nephews! They certainly keep life hilarious and lively! 

Friday, September 11, 2015

Good Days

Summer is leaving, and I'm not very sorry at all. Next comes good weather, our church's family camp, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas. What's not to like? Still, these days have been good, and there is plenty to be grateful for...

I'm grateful for...

  • The weather. I already mentioned it, but it's worth saying again. This Northwestern girl isn't quite done acclimatizing, so the cool(er) weather is a welcome relief. ; )
  • Birds. I peeked out the window the other day and saw pigeons and some little brown birds (yeah, I don't know their name...) gathered together in our front yard. I had never realized before that there are beautiful birds even here! I'm just used to seeing gray mourning doves and nothing else. ; )
  • Old pictures. The other day I was working on the huge project of putting eight years' worth of pictures on a USB drive. It was so wonderful to remember the times we've been blessed with. I found I had even forgotten some of the things we had done earlier this year, and it was very nice to be reminded. It also amazing to see how much my wonderful nephews have grown!
  • Books to read... I've been reading so much lately it's been a ton of fun! Reviews coming when I can. ;P
  • I've also been doing a lot of reading for our history studies. We are learning about Egypt right now, and I'm so excited to see how the Exodus fits into everything. 
  • Christian movies. It seems like there have been a ton more good ones coming out lately than ever before. I got to see "War Room" earlier this month and absolutely loved it!!! It was very encouraging and inspiring, and I can't wait for the rest of my family to see it so we can discuss it. ; ) My dad bought "Polycarp", and the older ones in our family watched it together. It was a slower movie than I am used to, but it was very good!
  • Nephews! Since their little family moved out, we haven't gotten to see them as much; but Perry sends enough pictures and hilarious stories to keep us alive until their next visit. ; )
  • How much faster chores are lately. That sounds really weird, but now that I'm a "big girl" chores that were painfully slow to do in that past get done in a snap. So much more free time... ;P
  • Shortbread--three flavors--plain, spiced, chocolate. 'Nuff said.
  • Music playing all over the house. Sometimes three different songs at once because everyone has their own mp3 player. ; ) Walk into the kitchen--encouraging Christian music that we all love. Walk into the girls' room--very lighthearted and slightly romantic. ; ) Walk into the boy's room--inspiring, majestic, heroic movie music. Yeah, it's pretty fun. ; ) My favorite song right now is "After the Last Tear Falls" by Andrew Peterson. (The version from 2014 is awesome, but so is the older one too. Pick your favorite.) ; )
  • Ants. Yeah, really, I'm grateful for our ant invasion! It gave Buddies a project to do when she ran out of schoolwork, and she was so cute and "adult" doing it. She had me help her handle the vacuum a bit, but she mostly did it all by herself. She found where they were coming in and was full of ideas to block the hole, get ED (she meant DE for diatomaceous earth) or poison for them, etc. After a while, she decided she needed a break, and we had popsicles together. ; )
  • Inspiration. The little people in my family (soon I'll have to call them "medium people" because they are only getting bigger) are so hilarious and inspiring. Together we discussed what it would be like to have a world completely made of chocolate, or bagels, or noodles. ; ) I made them a pretend newspaper the other day using some of their ideas, and it was so much fun.
  • Direct access to my Maker. Anytime I need to talk, He's there!
Today, what are you grateful for?

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Memories of His Mercy


"Let us remember the loving-kindness of the Lord and rehearse His deeds of grace. Let us open the volume of recollection, which is so richly illuminated with memories of His mercy, and we will soon be happy."
~Alistair Begg

Friday, June 12, 2015

Do Not Grow Weary

"And you will arrive in heaven used up. And He will give you a whole new you. And He'll say, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You used yourself up for Me just like I did for you." ~Daddy, on having a servant's heart and not growing weary of giving yourself

I'm so grateful for good family conversations. It interrupted the beginning of algebra, but what I did learn was more important. ; )

Monday, May 25, 2015

The Red Notebook

        The rain pounded against the roof, and a young girl delighted in the way its presence made the attic feel even cozier. It ran down the windows in little streams, and she paused a moment in her work to look outside.
      “There’s something so wonderful about the attic,” she sighed happily and sat down next to her mother who was sorting a seemingly endless pile of papers.      
      “Mmmm,” Mother agreed smiling. The attic was full of an assortment of old furniture, cardboard boxes, and everything else unusual and interesting. “Your Grandmother thought so too, Allyson.”
       Allyson smiled involuntarily. She had been sorting a box of old pictures and had run across several of her Grandmother. “She wrote a lot up here, didn’t she? Before it was crammed with old stuff that is,” she said brushing a dust bunny out of her curly brown hair.
       Mother laughed. “Well, we’ll soon fix that problem; and maybe we’ll do things up here again. Yes, she did.”
       “Could I read some of her stories this winter?” Allyson asked with new excitement in her eyes.
Picture
       “That would be a fun idea. Maybe after that you could choose a few of your favorite stories for me to read aloud to everyone,” Mother said labeling her box as “burn”.
       Allyson smiled and glanced at her watch. It was very close to the ending time Mother had chosen for this session of work. There was still definitely plenty to do, but it would have to wait for another day. “I can’t wait to start reading!” she said moving faster in her excitement.


Read more: http://noblenovels.weebly.com/kates-stories/the-red-notebook
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