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There is a Method to My Madness: But Not Really

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch
 
 
I’ve been asked to share my method of penning a story.
 
Here it is:

…there really isn’t one.

But this is how it works for me when I’m writing contemporary romance (with suspenseful elements). I also write romantic suspense and the plotting is different.

1. Inspiration Hits

 

Generally, it smacks me in the face during my early morning time with the Lord. I’ll see a face, hear a voice and a scene of some sort pops in my head. For example: When I wrote the Precious Gems Saga, I was reading Isaiah 54. “And I will make your pinnacles of rubies (Pigeon’s Blood was born) your gates of crystal (Crystal Gates) and your foundations of sapphire (Sapphire Foundation).” Each female character paralleled that particular jewel. I studied the stones and as I did, the characters developed.

After I wrote those three books, I knew it wasn’t finished. The characters weren’t ready to say goodbye just yet and new stories formed–with their children. The Wayward Children Trilogy, was born. 

2. Plotting

 
 

Plotting happens while I’m on the treadmill walking. Not when I run because I have to consciously remind myself to breathe. But when I’m walking, characters tell me who they are, what they’ve been through, what they want and how they think they should get it. I don’t alway agree with them, but what do I know? I see these things happen in live scenes. Like watching a movie in my head. The kind of music I’m listening to at the time sets the pace of the scenes I see.

 

I don’t always write the scenes down because I remember them, but sometimes when they say something very smart-alec or profound, that I can’t come up with on my own, I jump off the treamill and scribble it on a post-it. Or if I’m cleaning, I stop (great excuse to put the Pledge down) and find my post-its.

I rarely get the beginning scene right off-the-bat. The middle and ending happen first. Once I  have the basic structure and know who my characters are (because they tell me), I research anything necessary– which is always– and then I write.

3. Writing happens

Why yes, that is
my pink snuggie! Convenient
for writers who get cold!

 

Not really, I wish. I have to make it happen. I used to sit in a double size chair in our den with my laptop and skull candy. That’s where I wrote most of my manuscripts. I now have a sweet writing desk in my bedroom.
 
 I don’t need solitude, but I like it. I stuff my skull candy in my ears, crank up the music I’ve seen the scenes to and I disappear. Sometimes, I’ll play one song over and over for hours at a time. Writing is the only time I forget to eat.
 

I write all day on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I’m home and my kids are at school. On MWF, I get to come home at noon and write till I get the kids. I don’t usually write on weekends unless everyone goes to bed and I can’t sleep. Then I may work until 1 or 2 in the morning, especially if I’m nearing the end.

 
 
Somewhere in there, when it comes time for the twist, I stop and outline the rest of the novel. Just a paragraph for each scene to walk me through where I’m going, which will keep me organized, and then I bring it on home.
 

 

Now, my FBI Hornet’s Nest series is a whole other brand of cereal. The plotting is very different and more structured because it has to be in order to keep up with everything. I’ll write about that another time.
 
Have a great weekend!

 * The winner for Gray Matter, is Terri Tiffany! Congrats!

 
If you’re a writer, what’s the method to your madness? If you’re not a writer, what book are you curling up with this weekend?
 

It’s Not a Fairy Tale

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch
 
I can find Divine Romance in every fairy tale. I don’t think it’s hard to find in anything. Women love romance, but it was created by a Male.  The greatest romance ever written was breathed by God–it’s His love affair for us, penned by some of His chosen authors.
 

I love the idea of choice. I chose my husband. No one forced me to marry him. When I read about arranged marriages or women handed over as prizes, something inside me stirs like cold lumpy soup that didn’t turn out right. (not borscht, but that’s gross too)

Today, let’s take a look into a passage you may have read a million times. I know I have. I’ve skimmed it and moved on to things I understand. Do you do that? Skip over what seems confusing, dry, or uninteresting to move on to what you do understand and have read dozens of times. It makes you feel connected because you “get it.” But it doesn’t grow you. Not at all.

Find a passage that’s hard. Dry. Uninteresting. Then ask questions. Especially you writers! Ask why? How? Then do the research and find out! God loves a treasure hunter. He’ll help the words come to life on the page. Let’s bring life to a seemingly lifeless and unimportant passage. By the way, nothing is in the Bible by chance.  Just like in your own novels, make every word count. Set the background. Use the words to pace the story along. Make the words lyrical. The reader should hum along to the tune you’ve written. Take a lesson from the Bible!

Our story picks up in Joshua 15: 16-19 & Judges 1:12-15. It doesn’t take a huge portion of words to bring out a story. Less is more.

Backstory: The children of Israel are still fighting for their land. Much of it has been conquered, but not all of it. Joshua has died. There is no direct leader at this point. (See how I didn’t vomit a ton of backstory at the beginning.)

Caleb (you remember Caleb…he took his mountain in another blog post) says, “Whoever attacks Kirjath Sepher and takes it, to him I will give my daughter Achsah as his wife.”

Now let’s stop there. The lumpy soup is back. Geez, Caleb, couldn’t you offer up a few ounces of silver? Your daughter? Really? Really, Caleb?

Get out your spoon and get ready to stir the cold lumpy mess because it’s about to warm up into something delicious!

Looks are deceiving. Was Caleb really offering up his daughter as a thoughtless prize or was he looking for a noble man who could honor and protect her after he was gone? The father says, “Who will go up? Who will fight for this woman? Death is a possibility. Exhaustion a certainty.”

 

Achsah in Hebrew means “anklet, or ankle bracelet.” Names are a big deal in the Bible. When I think of an anklet, I see a dainty jewel. Precious.  Who will fight for his dainty precious jewel? He won’t be around forever. Remember, Caleb was a man of God. One of two spies willing to fight. One of two that entered into the Promised Land.

In verse 13, Othniel- the son of Kenaz (Caleb’s younger brother and we’re not going there, but those were the times, my friend…those were the times) took it. Othniel, also of the tribe of Judah. His name meaning…lion of God.

 

Let’s think about him a minute. He obviously has been around long enough that he knows Achsah. Maybe he’s seen her sitting among the young women. He’s been waiting for the right opportunity to make her his bride.

 Her delicateness interests him–enough he’s willing to take Kirjath Sepher, which means city of letters. We’re talking about a royal Canaanite city. Educated. A place located in the mountains. (now mountains of Judah west of Hebron)

When he comes back, victorious, Achsah comes to him and in verse 14 she moves him to request something of her father. The word in NKJV is “urge” but in KJV it’s “moved” and in Hebrew that word is “cuwth” and it means “incite, allure, instigate or entice.”
 
 
 Her father has raised her to love the Promised Land. Her inheritance. Imagine as she surveys the southern half–her half, how dry it is. She moves her husband– allures him with her beauty, her knowledge, and maybe even her heart for their inheritance– to ask her father for springs of water to quench the parched land.
 
Her father not only grants the upper springs, but the lower. He’s generous…abundant…lavish. Now she and her husband, who has fought honorably for her hand, can live…happily ever after.
 
It gets better. Better than happily ever after? Well, yeah, don’t you want your happily ever after? Did you not see the subtle foreshadowing? Every great book has it.
 
It begins with a dry parched land–a land barren from sin–and a Father who wants to make sure His dainty jewel, His ankle bracelet, is taken care of. A Father who is generous…abundant…lavish.
 
“Who will go up the mountain and fight for her?”
 
Someone had their eye on the lovely jewel.  “I will go.” Heaven hushed, only the swoosh of the seraphim wings continued to sound as they cried, “holy, holy, holy…”
 
An angel came and collected the royal robes and crown. And then in the still of the night, a baby’s cries could be heard echoing.
 

 

 
A face like flint

 

He grew in favor and wisdom, this Man and God…this Lion of Judah. 
 
He saw the prize and it was His joy to endure the battle for her hand in marriage.
 
He climbed a steep hill one that may have felt like a mountain…wounded, bleeding, flesh ripped, eyes swollen, exhaustion beating Him down…but He fought.
 
And He won.
 
 
 
It’s not a fairytale.
 We can live happily ever after…full of refreshing waters that quench a dry and parched soul. Our Father wants to give it to us. Water that will never run dry.
 
  “The royal daughter is all glorious within the palace;
         Her clothing is woven with gold.
  She shall be brought to the King in robes of many colors;
         The virgins, her companions who follow her, shall be brought to You.
  With gladness and rejoicing they shall be brought;
         They shall enter the King’s palace.”
Psalm 45: 13-15
 
What passage do you find uninteresting or confusing but would love to pull out treasure?

Must Read Monday: Gray Matter (I’m giving away a copy!)

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch

“The role of prayer in health care is itself a gray matter.”

Dr. David Levy tells his story through the pen of Joel Kilpatrick.

Dr. Levy didn’t start out knowing he wanted to be a neurosurgeon. He started out as a mechanic. He was good at fixing machines, and what machine is as beautiful and complex as the human brain?

He excelled through his classes, the typical overachiever, and was glorified by peers and colleagues. But something changed in Dr. Levy. That “something” was a Someone. God.

So…what if he brought prayer into health care? He grappled with the idea. What if he was rejected? Belittled? Humiliated? Yet he took the chance and started what he knew God wanted him to do–asking patients if he could pray with them before surgeries.

This book describes not only his procedures, which are explained easily for gals like me to understand and are incredibly fascinating, but it details the outcomes physically and spiritually.

Some physical symptoms experienced by patients had no medical cure –but the spiritual cure was forgiveness. Bitterness, hate, and resentment, doesn’t just effect the mind but the heart. These emotions can cause physical ailments and debilitating symptoms. Some of Dr. Levy’s stories are his experiences helping patients find Jesus and experience forgiveness as well as helping lead them to forgive others. It was beautiful!

Don’t expect every single procedure to be miraculous in this book–not all were– and I like that. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything, but what God did in the lives of the patients, families, and Dr. Levy are remarkable. No, not everyone verbally showed that they’d been moved by God, but that’s real life. We don’t always know how we touch others through simple prayers or our behaviors that reflect Christ.

If you question how effective prayer is, read this book. If you’re interested in amazing, complex neurosurgery, read this book, or if you simply need uplifted, encouraged, and hope–read this book. Thanks, Tyndale for giving me this book complimentary for review purposes!

For a limited time, it’s FREE on kindle! Click HERE to get it!
If you don’t have a kindle or just want the feel of a book in your hand, I’m giving away a copy of Gray Matter!
To enter: Answer the following question in the comments section below. “What kind of doctor would you be and why?” You have until Tuesday evening to enter into the random drawing. I will post the winner on Friday.

Close Quarters + People = CONFLICT

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch
 

“Get out of my way!”

“I was here first!”

“Mom!”

“Don’t you snitch on me. I didn’t do anything!”

“That toothpaste smell is gagging me!”

“Mom!”

Our mornings usually begin quiet and peaceful. Until my children have to share the bathroom. Bailey is primping and flat ironing her hair and Myles just needs to “water his hair” and brush his teeth.

Two minutes together. Tops.

I’m usually in the kitchen, feeling good after my morning with the Lord. I’m at peace. Quiet inside. Full of love…

“If I hear you screaming one more time, I’m going to come in there and give you a reason a to scream!”

Ever wonder how that happens? I can just see my flesh inside–crawling, gearing up to be let loose. Itching. Come on, I just need one tiny prick…where are those kids when I need them!?

They’re in separate rooms. That’s where.

 

Close quarters bring conflict. Bank on it. You fight most with the people you live with, or maybe work very closely with. It’s why you can go to church on Sunday and practically lick the syrup off folks’ faces. It’s easy to be sweet to people you see once a week.

Conflict is key in writing stories. It’s what keeps readers turning pages. Do you read? Would you agree? If there is no conflict there is no story.

In real life, I don’t want any drama. But in a book, where I’m not the target or stuck listening to whining and droning…I want drama! Lots of it!

 

There are many ways to inject conflict into a story.  The most obvious would be external conflict.

Miss thang here, well, she’s got herself in some kind of physical predictament that seems hopeless. Someone or something has literally put her up against a wall.

I see this picture and I think, “How did she get in this situation?” ie…backstory (that doesn’t need vomited onto the page) “How is she going to get out? After all, her best friend can’t save her…she’s strapped right up there with her.

Add some dialogue:
“I can’t believe you got me into this, Baby.”

“Me? Me? Duckie, you’re the one who said we should follow the bread crumbs.”

Duckie quacked and tried to point her wing, but the duct tape pulled at her feathers she’d just had trimmed and tipped, “I always say that! It’s like you always asking for a cookie! I tune it out! Now figure out a way to get us down!”

 

This bring us to Internal conflict. What’s going on inside of her? This is where writers get to be therapists. “How does that make you feel?” Then we get to be patients. “Well…stuck?”  Internal conflict is as important to a story as the external conflict.

 

I happen to love odd conflict. Inner and external. For example, this cartoon. This man is afraid of butterflies. I’m certainly not making fun of the fear of butterflies or phobias that people have. I have a few of my own.

I’m terrified of driving in heavy traffic. I don’t drive for a living, but take that fear and put it inside a truck driver. Now that’s good stuff! You may be asking, “Why would a guy become a truck driver if he’s scared to drive?”

Maybe it’s not a he. Maybe it’s a she and she is a single mom about to lose her children. What choice does she have? This may be the only thing she can do to make the money she needs to keep them. External conflict and internal. 

And of course, I have to have a little humor and duh, romance! She’s going to need an instructor, so she can obtain her CDL (a special license). This man has to ride along with her. He might even be a little chauvinist–but it’s probably a facade (his wife had an affair while he was on the road; he’s bitter).

Can you see her trying to use both foot pedals and shift that big ole’ rig with a burly (hot) guy glaring at her–ticked off because he’s stuck with some female who wants to drive a truck. She’ll kill them before she ever gets out of the parking lot!

We just amped up the conflict, ladies and gents!

 FYI, I just thought this up while writing; none of my stories are about a single mom becoming a truck driver. However…

 

In suspenseful stories (which all stories should have some suspense), a sneaky fox can add conflict. I like to call this Devious Mind conflict.

Someone who seems innocent, but secretly thwarts the plans of the hero/heroine in the story–or both. Maybe the reader knows this up front. If it’s a mystery, probably not until much later in the story. I write about serial killers in my Hornet’s Nest Series. I keep my killers a mystery–until the last “act.” and even then it’s about the end of the story.

I love characters that are crazy like a fox…or is that hungry like the wolf??? Oh well…either-both. Whatever, it works. 

 

 

One of my all time favorites, is the love conflict. Man loves woman, woman loves man. But they can’t be together. It’s the glue of a great romance novel. Who wants to read a book where a couple fall in love in chapter one, get married in chapter two and live a ho-hum decent life the rest of the book? If you do, sorry. But I do not!

Rejection in a relationship fuels me to keep reading. Nothing tugs my heartstrings like a woman or a man rejecting the other when I know they really love each other. But it takes, what to keep them apart? Conflict. Internal. External.

 

Mix it up with odd conflict, sneaky conflict or, just stick them in a bathroom together for about two minutes. I know first hand that works.

Either way, you can’t erase conflict from a novel. You don’t have one if you do. And you can’t erase it from your real life.

 

Thankfully, there is conflict resolution. His name is…God. That’s why I love writing Inspirational Fiction. I can show the world how God can be the conflict resolution in any situation. I get the pleasure of extending hope to readers who might identify with some of my characters–even single mom truckdrivers.

Does every situation end beautifully in real life? No. In fiction? Most times.

But, real life and fiction do have something in common when it comes to conflict resolution. The availability for God to resolve inner conflict is always there. The same hope you read about in fiction, is very real in the story we call real life.

You can’t change some of your circumstances. You don’t always ask for conflict, but God is always ready to bring peace to your inner conflict first. He cares more about the condition of your spiritual life, than your physical.

So…talk to me. Tell me what kinds of conflict you enjoy reading about? What keeps you turning pages?

Have a great weekend.  Join me on for Must Read Monday! I’m sharing about a book you can get for free! If you don’t have a kindle, I’M GIVING AWAY A BOOK! TELL YOUR FRIENDS!

Silver Treasures

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch

Unexpected treasures are my favorite. A gift. As I worked on week five of the study in Joshua, I was cross referenced to Malachi 3. No, I’m not talking about money. I don’t think we ever hear a sermon in Malachi that isn’t about money and tithing. Except maybe, the refiner’s fire.

 In chapter 2, God talks to the corrupt priests. He tells them, “..the lips of a priest should keep knowledge, and people should seek the law from his mouth; For he is a messenger of the LORD of hosts. But you have departed from the way; You have caused many to stumble at the law. You have corrupted the covenant of Levi..” Malachi 2:7-8.

The study I was writing for the day was about being a priest, a minister of God, but I discovered some interesting nuggets of…silver and I’d like to share them with you and encourage you today. I looked up the process of refining silver and this is what I found:
The black type is the instructions, but I’ve highlighted important pieces and commented in red.

How to Refine Silver | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/how_4472222_refine-silver.html#ixzz1EyCV4c7e

 1  Put 150 ml of nitric acid for every ounce of silver you have in each bucket. Do not overload the bucket since it could overflow. You will need about two to three times more room than the amount of silver in the bucket. You will see the reaction of bubbling and fuming which can take at least 30 minutes.  

We are in good hands. Hands that know not to overload us. When Jesus plans to refine us, He makes plenty of room to do it. He’s meticulous. The bucket is like His hands. When He begins the refining process, He knows we’re going to react to what He allows and uses in our lives. It will bubble and fume. Have you ever fumed or felt a nervous bubbling inside when you’re being refined? 1 Peter 4:12 says, “Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you; but rejoice…” Rejoice, Jesus, never lets us bubble or fume ourselves out of His hands!

Once this stops you can move onto the next step. Stop fighting Him, accept what is happening, and let Him do what He needs to do in order to purify you!

  2
Take the acid and the dissolved silver and pour it into another bucket. Don’t allow solid pieces to be poured with the silver and acid since it will contaminate the silver. Jesus sets us apart; as a refiner, He removes anything from our lives that wants to contaminate us.            1 Thessalonians 5:23 says, “Now may the God of peace Himself sanctify you completely; and may your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.”
From here, you will add an ounce of silver precipitant crystals or SAC to every 40 ounces of dissolved silver. This will develop silver that will sink to the bottom of the acid. Give 30 minutes or more. Then pour out the acid. Neutralize and dispose of the acid by filtering it
making sure that no particles of silver are lost. Matthew 18:11 says, “For the Son of   Man has come to save that which was lost.”
John 10:28-29 says, “And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father’s hand.”

  3

Wash the silver thoroughly.The refiner will not fail to wash you. Thoroughly. Inside out. “…that He might sanctify and cleanse her with the washing of water by the word. Ephesians 5:26.
 “Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin”.        Psalm 51:2.

You want to rinse off any acid remaining on the silver. Then add about three or four drops of aqua ammonia which will appear blue if there’s traces of acid left. The Refiner is always testing and making sure that there is no acid left in His creation. “…for the Lord your God is testing you to know whether you love the Lord with all your heart and with all your soul.” Dt. 13:3.

If so, then continue rinsing and reapply the ammonia.What encouraging words! “If so…then continue rinsing”! Not throw it away because it’s worthless and can never be a beautiful treasure worth something. He never gives up. “If we are faithless, He remains faithful; He cannot deny Himself.” 2 Timothy 2:13.
He continues to purify us, refine us, and sanctify us. He’s patient. “The Lord is not slack concerning His promise, as some count slackness, but is longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance.” 2 Peter 3:9. 
 Do not add too much ammonia since it could damage the silver. He never damages us. He’s careful. Lamentations 3:33, “For He does not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men.” The word “afflict” in Hebrew is “anah” and it means to browbeat or mishandle. The word “willingly” in Hebrew is “leb” and it means inner man, heart, mind.
In essence He’s saying, “I discipline those I love, but I will never mishandle your heart. You can trust me. I’ll never damage you.” So many of us have been damaged in some way or another in our lives. We’ve given our hearts, only to have them crushed—abused. But Jesus will NEVER hurt us, even when life feels like He might be. He never adds too much, because He’s making a treasures!
“No temptation has overtaken you except such as is common to man; but God is faithful, who will not allow you to be tempted beyond what you are able, but with the temptation will also make the way of escape, that you may be able to bear it.” 1 Corinthians 10:13 Then dry.

  4

Use baking soda along with karo pancake syrup, salt, water All of these are cleansing and purifying agents. Covenants were made with salt in the OT. Baking soda is used to neutralize acid (which we’ll compare to sin) The Holy Spirit acts as a neutralizing agent. John 16:7-9. Salt gives seasoning.  Mark 9:49-50;Colossians 4:6, and water cleanses. and Red Devil drain cleaner  Even the devil is allowed to sift us, but God always gives the limits! Job 2:6;         Luke 22:31-32.

in order to use a different process of refining silver. It is basically the same procedures with the nitric acid but this way may be easier to not lose any silver particles. You will begin by dissolving the silver with acid in the plastic bucket. Add salt to acid until white clumps stop appearing in the acid. Then pour off the acid into another bucket.

  5

Add baking soda to the acid. Add about two tablespoons of baking soda which will neutralize it. Then filter the white precipitants that the salt had formed which is pure silver chloride. Rinse the silver with water. Then add the Red Devil drain cleaner to the silver chloride until it turns black. Rinse with water again.Again, He works diligently until we become what He expects us to be.  Then add karo syrup until the particles turn silver. This will result in refined silver. Be sure to rinse and make it clean of any extra chemicals left on it.

My favorite part of refining silver is how the Refiner knows for sure it’s done. When he can see his reflection in it.
“But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord.” II Corinthians 3:18

“Therefore if anyone cleanses himself from the latter, he will be a vessel for honor, sanctified and useful for the Master, prepared for every good work.”          2 Timothy 2:21
What have you been studying? Share a nugget!

Must Read Monday: Sidney & Norman a tale of two pigs

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch

“The pig on the right was Norman. He was a very good pig…Norman figured that everyone could be as good as he was, if they’d just try a little harder. He wondered why they didn’t…The pig on the left was Sidney. Things didn’t come quite as easily for Sidney…Sidney felt broken. And some days that made it hard to get up in the morning. Some days, in fact, Sidney couldn’t get up at all.”

Sidney & Norman a tale of two pigs was written by Phil Vischer. You know Phil. Creator of Veggie Tales. This is another one of those children’s books that speaks volumes to adults. I picked it up at the Christian bookstore, began reading it, and cried right there in the middle of everyone. My friend, who worked there at the time, called my husband (after I left and without telling me) and told him he might want to come in and buy a special book for me. A day or two later, I came home and it was lying on my pillow. Tears. Sniff.

Norman is the typical overachiever. He’s good at everything. He dresses perfectly with no spot or wrinkles. He’s the teacher’s pet (pardon the pun) and his boss’ favorite. Of course. He  prides himself on being the best–looks down on those who aren’t as “good” as he is and wonders why they simply don’t work harder.

Sidney is the typical struggling pig. Things are hard for him. He wants to be good. He wants to be like Norman, but he just isn’t. He messes up at school–frustrating his teachers; he frustrates his employer, and he’s pretty certain he frustrates God, and why wouldn’t he? He frustrates himself the most. “Why was everything so hard? Why couldn’t he be more like…oh, what was his name?”

One day, the two pigs received the same letter. From God. “I would like you to come visit me at 77 Elm Street next Tuesday at your convenience. I have something to tell you. Sincerely, God.”

Isn’t that just like God…to invite us to come and hear a word from Him, but at our convenience? He never pushes us. Some of us run straight to Him; some of us balk and stew about it.

Norman ran. Why? “Anticipation. Happiness. Pride.” He was about to be honored and awarded for being good. He couldn’t sleep because of his excitement.

Sidney felt much differently. “Terror. Panic. Doom.” It was like being sent to the principal’s office. He was always in trouble for something.

The day came. Norman walked tall. Looked his best (as usual) and strutted straight to the address.  He walked inside…he saw God.

“First of all, God began, “I love you.” Norman smiled, though he wasn’t surprised. “Secondly, your goodness isn’t the reason I love you.” Norman was startled. “Thirdly,” God continued, “you’re not as good as you’ve led yourself to believe. You’re prideful. You’re selfish. You look down on others…”  God looked a little sad now…Then God smiled and returned to his desk. “That is what I needed to tell you.”

Not much of an award in Norman’s opinion. How could God find fault in him?

Sidney dreaded his day. He put it off…and off until he couldn’t wait anymore. He made his way to the address and into the office. Doom hung on him like a cape. He was such a rotten pig–never getting things right.

“I want to tell you something,” God continued as he came around the desk.” I love that God gets personal with us. He comes right down to where we are. To our level. “First of all, ” God began, “I love you.” Sidney startled–surprised. “Secondly,” God continued in a quieter voice, “I love you.” …”And thirdly…” God paused, very close to Sidney, “I love you.” The look in God’s eyes warmed Sidney right down to his toes. “That is what I wanted to tell you,” God said…

Sidney was confused at first, wondering how God could love a little ole’ messed up pig like him. But that conversation–changed him. Those reassuring words from his Creator–“I love  you.” Three times God told him. Because, God did love Sidney and wanted him to know it. If He needed to tell him 100 times, He would have.

He loves you too. If you’ll stop balking and just meet Him, those words will do things to you that you never imagined they could.

Maybe you’re Norman, and you need reminded that you aren’t perfect–even if you seem to do things better than others. God loves you as well.  He loves me too, whether I’m in a Norman season, or a Sidney season.

Phil Vischer

I love that Phil chose pigs. Pigs in the OT were considered unclean. Which without our Savior’s grace and shed blood–is exactly what we are. But God loves us.

To find out the rest, read the book. See how their lives change. For the better. And remember…God loves you. He wants to invite you to come and see Him, just to let you know it. You can read about His love for you all day long and know it in your head, but sometimes you need to get alone with Him, and let Him speak those words to your heart. Personally.

What book are you reading right now?

I’m a Gold Digger: Treasures From the Book of Joshua

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch
 

Yep, you read the title correctly. I’m a gold digger. I’m proud of it. I need the T-Shirt.

But I almost wasn’t.

I’m still writing my study in the book of Joshua. I’m at the point where it records his conquests. I wrote out the lesson, then had about a paragraph left before starting a new chapter. I skipped the last paragraph and started reading the new chapter when the Lord said, “You missed a few lines. Go back.” So I did.

Go back with me if you will, to Joshua 11:16-23. I want to focus on verse 21. I need to take you on a journey, that goes back to Numbers 13:16-33. It’s a journey of a young man, named Joshua. Son of Nun. (That is not a play on words or a typo. Nun does not = None.)

 

Joshua and eleven other men are commanded by Moses to go spy out their Promised Land. Eagerly, they take off on their mission, but when they come back only two of them (Joshua and Caleb–who was forty at the time) wanted to go in and possess the land. They trusted God. They believed. Faith was a road sign on their journey to their promise.

But the ten other spies were afraid and they put fear into the hearts of the people with their response, “We are not able to go up against the people for they are stronger than we…There were giants (the descendants of Anak came from the giants); and we were like grasshoppers in our own sight, and so we were in their sight.” Numbers 13:31-33.

Because of their lack of faith, God sentenced them to forty years in the wilderness. All the men able to go to war would die and because God is faithful, even when we are not, He would allow the second generation of children to enter the land plus Joshua and Caleb. Numbers 14:26-35.

Fast forward to Joshua 11:21-22. “And at that time, Joshua came and cut off the Anakim, from the mountains…None of the Anakim wer left in the land of the children of Israel…” Joshua, wasn’t playing around. He was finally getting to do what he wanted forty-five years earlier. (Forty years in the wilderness and five years of war to slay all the kings who had come against him. Joshua 11:18 and Joshua 14:10.)

 

Those are the facts.
What was the story?
 I wonder what it was like for Joshua and Caleb all those years in the wilderness. Late at night, did Joshua weep alone in his tent for the promise he knew was his and yet couldn’t touch. Did those years creep by, one heat filled day at a time?

Young Joshua begged–pleaded for the people to have faith and go in to take the land. So much, they wanted to stone him and Caleb. “But it’s ours! We can do this! God has given us this great promise!”

And then the sentencing. The righteous were sandwiched in between the wicked. They had to wait. A blessing was coming. But not for forty more dry, dusty filled years later. “God, this wasn’t my fault! I wanted to go. It’s just not fair that I should wait too.”

Joshua learned under Moses’ tutelage. He became skilled at leading, military strategy…and how to honor and obey God. Even if his nights may have been spent fighting bitterness towards those who had been disobedient and wicked.

Then forty years were up. It was time for Joshua to do what he’d wanted to do so many years ago, with Caleb–now eighty-five but strong. Picture them, sweaty and exhausted from war–yet never falling back. Pressing on. The last giant falls with a thud and only the dust rises. The men of the second generation shout in victory, but Joshua falls to his face in the sand and weeps. Caleb takes his place on the ground next to him.

“Why are you weeping? We should be dancing! Singing! Celebrating!” The army yelled and then stood dumbfounded.

They were dancing–in their hearts. They were singing–in their spirits They were celebrating–through tears. Tears that came from a long, arduous journey. At last. Joshua proved, those giants couldn’t stop the work of the Almighty God.

Caleb clasps his hand, pulls Joshua to his feet and says, “I am now eighty-five. I’ve waited forty five years for this. Yet I am not weak. God has made me as strong now as I was then. Now. Give. Me. My. Mountain.”

And Joshua blessed him and gave him Hebron formerly known as Kirjath Arba (Arba was the greatest man among the Anakim). Was.

How long have you been waiting for a promise? What are you doing while you wait? Life isn’t fair. Sometimes we feel stuck. Wandering. But your mountain is your mountain. God isn’t taking it away from you.

Tell your giants, “I’m. Coming. For. You. Give. Me. My. Mountain.”

 

What are you studying? Share a few golden nuggets!

Must Read Monday: House of Dark Shadows

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch

“Moooom!” her son screamed. Full of despair. Reaching. Almost to the door. “Mo–“

The door closed, separating her from her family forever.”

Robert Liparulo is the author of the Dreamhouse Kings Series for Young Adults. House of Dark Shadows is the first. A man takes his family back to his childhood home, where his mother was kidnapped from.

The interesting thing is, the mother wasn’t taken away from the house, but down a dark corridor inside the home and into one of the many rooms that leads to other places and times.

I enjoy reading Young Adult fiction and suspenseful fiction. I got both in this book! The only bummer of the book is when it ends, I still have no idea who did it, how they did it, or where those kidnapped went. Upside? I get to read the rest of the series to find out! Which I will. My daughter is going to read it next–when I let her have my kindle!

Robert Liparulo

Here’s a teaser:

DREAM HOUSE . . . OR BAD DREAM?

“When the Kings move from L.A. to a secluded small town, fifteen-year-old Xander is beyond disappointed. He and his friends loved to create amateur films . . . but the tiny town of Pinedale is the last place a movie buff and future filmmaker wants to land.
But he, David, and Toria are captivated by the many rooms in the old Victorian fixer-upper they moved into–as well as the heavy woods surrounding the house.
They soon discover there’s something odd about the house. Sounds come from the wrong directions. Prints of giant, bare feet appear in the dust. And when David tries to hide in the linen closet, he winds up in locker 119 at his new school.
Then the really weird stuff kicks in: they find a hidden hallway with portals leading off to far-off places–in long-ago times. Xander is starting to wonder if this kind of travel is a teen’s dream come true . . . or his worst nightmare.”

Do you like YA fiction? What’s your favorite YA book?

Frivolous Friday: A story with no rhyme or reason

Posted on by Jessica R. Patch
 

“She couldn’t see anything. The moon was teasing her, playing in the sick game, by hiding behind thick pasty gray clouds. She ran until her stomach burned. Her legs threatened to betray her as they buckled underneath her.

 She dared not look back for fear she’d trip on logs or underbrush. The bitter, stale, acidy smells assaulted her nose and lodged in her throat, signaling he wasn’t far behind. 

The blindfold he’d kept on her had only been off long enough to reveal the dense forest–his hunting ground.Where he’d found her two days or maybe two months before. She’d lost track of time.

 Barren trees reached out to trap her. Their bony branches, acting like jagged nails, taunted her cheeks as they scratched and peeled her smooth complexion away from her face, but she pushed through, ignoring the sting and the sticky substance oozing from her wounds.

The taste of earth, iron, and salt saturated her dry tongue. Her throat coiled in response. She gagged, but pressed on.  She begged for death, but not at his hands. Not again.

‘Here, kitty, kitty’ he called.”

My friend, we’ll call her Jane again, as once more she’s humilated herself, clutched the steering wheel  as we headed back from dropping a friend off at a conference. It was late and we were unfamiliar with our surroundings. I’d been sharing the story rolling around in my head. (you only got a snippet of it)

 I became engrossed in telling it, and though her eyes were on the road, her mind was immersed in the  woman escaping a psychopath.

“Hey did we miss our turn?” She turned the radio down. (Why do we do that?)

Slightly irritated that I had to come out of character, I looked around. “No. I thought you were paying attention.”

“Well I wasn’t,” she snipped. “I’m turning around.” She hopped off the interstate and began pulling over onto the shoulder of the road. Neither of us spoke. The silence hung in the air. We were surrounded by ominous looking woods. The night was similar to the one I had been describing. The moon was full.

As she slowed down, a shimmer caught my eye in front of us. What–what is that? “Oh no! Stop, Jane! It’s a man!” 

He was in the middle of nowhere. In the pitch of night. Holding a white plastic sack. I couldn’t make out his face, but as she slammed on the brakes he moved toward us.

I threw my hands in the air. “Lock the doors! Roll up the windows! Roll up the windows! He’s coming!” My soprano voice turned shrill.

That’s when my friend Jane, lost all ability to function. Her hand frantically raced up and down the car door looking for buttons to lock and secure us.

“Jane, do something!”

 

She did. A heinous word that had obviously been forming on the tip of her tongue forced its way out of her mouth. My precious friend’s mouth. She screamed it to the top of her lungs and once it was out it repeated like a stuck record. I stopped shrieking out of shock. My head seemed to turn in slow motion. The abominable word rang out in a slurred slow motion as well. Over and over.

She cut a hard right and threw dust and rocks on the shadowed man standing alone on the shoulder near the woods. A hitchhiker? Maybe. A psychotic maniac with a switchblade and ropes? Possibly.

We shook with fear, turned into the wrong lane, dodged oncoming traffic and finally found our way into the city again. Jane pulled over at a movie rental store near the friend’s house we were staying at. We sat there staring straight ahead. Numb. Trembling.

Jane spoke in a hoarse whisper, “I want to tell you something.”

I looked at her then reached over and took her hand. It was still clammy. “It’s okay. You were scared. I forgive you.”

She pulled her brows together, pursed her lips and slipped her hand out of mine. “I was going to say you are never, ever, under any circumstances allowed to tell scary stories after dark.”

I stared at her a moment with surprise. “Oh…okay.” I scratched my head, sighed and paused a few seconds before I asked, “So you wanna rent a scary movie?”

“I hate you,” she whispered and started the car.

Have a fun and SAFE weekend! 🙂
* Jane did feel bad about her foul words… later.