My son, preserve sound judgment and discernment,
do not let them out of your sight;
they will be life for you.
Then you will go on your way in safety,
and your foot will not stumble;
when you lie down, you will not be afraid;
when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
Have no fear of sudden disaster
or of the ruin that overtakes the wicked,
for the Lord will be your confidence
and will keep your foot from being snared.
Proverbs 3:21-26 (NIV)
This is the fifth chapter of a work in progress (WIP) titled . . . in a love song.
Five
How the only woman who could give him a hitch in his normal attitude and response to her could appear almost bashful in thanking him for putting up her new screen doors baffled him. But she did. He saw tears in her eyes as she inspected them. But she recovered quickly and almost teased him with her remark, “Whenever the right one catches you, you’ll make a fine husband, Mr. Rivers.” And then it was his turn to feel embarrassed.
He cleaned up and set on his way to The Tavern to enjoy Pet’s cooking even if it would be just a cheeseburger and fries. Who was he kidding? He hoped to feast on her pretty face and get a warm reception from her stealth façade. Of all the local information the guys had pumped into him in the short time he’d been here, not one of them had mentioned this pretty gal who worked behind the bar. There’d been plenty of chatter about some other women in town, like Leann, one of the checkers at the supermarket who apparently had a fondness for construction workers.
It was 2:30 when he walked in, the jukebox playing rock ‘n’ roll tunes from the 50s, 60s, and 70s. Not as loud as last evening. The place had a healthy crowd for a Saturday afternoon with several tables occupied. He strode toward the bar and straddled a stool next to his coworker Keith who looked like a hangover danced in his head.
“Bud, you look like you shoulda left when I did,” Dale kidded.
Keith looked over with a sly smile after taking a sip of his tomato beer. “And miss all the fun?” His smile turned into a grin.
“Hmm. Yeah, hard to pass up a little fun, huh? Gotta pay the price, though. You know it ain’t free.”
“Never is, is it?” And he laughed a bit like that much movement hurt.
“Here ya go, Trouble. Hope it goes down easy cuz it won’t come up that way.” Pet turned to Dale after setting a plate full of sunny-side up eggs, hash browns, sausage, and toast in front of Keith. “What can I get for you?” Her smile was confident this afternoon.
“Cheeseburger, fries, and a Coke, please. Heavy on the onions.” He looked her in the eyes when he ordered, and she didn’t flinch.
“Onions, huh?”
“No reason not to,” he replied with a subtle smile. That comment got to her ever so slightly.
“Heavy on the onions it is then.” She turned to get his Coke and when she placed it in front of him, she said, “You got a name?”
“I’ve been called my fair share of them, but Dale Rivers is my given name.” He held out his hand to her.
“Patricia Edison. No relation.”
He smiled at her quip. Her grip was firm, and he didn’t let go for an extra beat. “Nice to meet you, Patricia.”
For that extra beat, her confidence wavered as it had last night. Her hand was soft, and it felt good in his. He let go. She disappeared into the kitchen.
“Whoa, dude. What’s up with that?” Keith seemed to have surfaced from his haze.
“What?”
“Pet don’t talk to just anybody like that. She makes herself off limits to most everyone.”
“How come you guys never mentioned anything about her? You filled me in on all these other chicks around town but not her. Why?”
Keith stared at his eggs for a moment. “Pet’s different.” He took a forkful and shoved it in his mouth, chewed, and then downed a big swig of the red beer.
“Different how?”
“She’s a Cadillac. Know what I mean? There’s some nice cars out there, but you know you got somethin’ special with a Cadillac.”
Dale could see Keith was dead serious. Respect in his tone. Keith kept eating, staring down at his food.
“Like an El Dorado?”
“Like a classic shiny red El Dorado only belonged to one owner its whole life.” Keith pushed his plate away and downed the rest of his drink. As he tugged his wallet out of his back pocket, he said, “Word of advice? Don’t go there. See ya Monday.” He put a twenty on the counter and walked out.
Dale turned slightly on his stool and watched him leave.
Father, help me with every written word, every story, to honor you. I thank you for all of them. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
If you need a fun escape during the final days of winter (let's hope they're the final days) – or anytime at all – I highly recommend this comedic but exciting fun-filled, glamorous lark of a film. This remake of The Tourist is as good as a remake can be. I loved it!
Father, only you can save the lost. I pray you will . . . In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Nearly every age group in the USA can reminisce about "the good old days", but the "baby boomers" seem to indulge the nostalgia better than most. Growing up the in the 40s and 50s and experiencing the transformation that took place in the 60s and 70s, it's easy to say those years before the hippie movement and the Vietnam War were definitely the last remnant of so-called innocence.
Culture often portrays the notable – and not necessarily the best – elements of society during different years. The fluctuations of different politics, religion, morality, and business are reflected in film and music. Perhaps that's why today's version of Hollywood theatrics have given themselves more credit for influence than they truly possess. When producing political agenda driven movies which fail miserably at the box office, they fail to realize they're alienating a large portion of those who refuse to pay to see their opinions depicted on the big screen.
When I was in grade school in Seattle, Washington, for a period of time there was a curfew of 10 PM for kids under 18 to be off the streets. There was a "gang" known as the "Dukes" who wore letterman-style jackets and roamed the streets. I never saw one, and I never had any reason to be out of the house that late at night as an elementary school student. I had no idea what a "gang" was, and my life was fairly idyllic. My brother was nine years older than I so he probably knew all about the "Dukes". I knew no one who'd ever experienced any confrontations with this gang, and I don't remember when the curfew lapsed.
Maybe "the good old days" weren't really all that "good" since sin was rampant then just as it is now. However, in "those" days, most of it wasn't in your face as it is so blatantly today. On the big screen, the "small screen", every magazine rack at the grocery store, in song, in speeches, on Twitter, Facebook, and the other multitudes of social networks, pornography is available, flaunted, accepted, and passed along. We could spend literally hours making a list of depravity on the airwaves and in print. The irony will be when someone in the future refers to this era as "the good old days".
Here is a smattering of 50s' films for you to contrast what was offered during that time in our history.
God, you know many of these people have passed on and only you know their eternal dwelling place. I pray those who've been given your gifts today would come to know your Son and realize from whom their talent has been given. Only you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Each trailer reveals more about the upcoming movie. The final installment of the Pirates of the Caribbean series. Hate for it to end. Dead Men Tell No Tales is advertised as the "final adventure". My favorite series of all time.
Father, you know the blackness of lost hearts. I pray for dramatic conversions and salvations. Only you can change hard hearts. Only you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Many are the plans in a man's heart,
but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails.
Many a man claims to have unfailing love,
but a faithful man who can find?
Proverbs 19:11 (NIV)
Proverbs 20:6 (NIV)
If you recall "Book Covers Week", this is the one posted on Valentine's Day. I love this cover. And, yes, Anne Patrick wrote a sweet little romance to go with it.
Here's the thing with the romance genre. There's a formula. Most successful romances stick to that formula and garner millions of readers with it. Renegade Hearts is a romance.
Jenny Holloway is a widow raising a young son (Zach) on a ranch that breeds Black Angus cattle and champion cutting horses. She and her deceased husband Rick inherited the ranch from his uncle and made it a thriving entity through their determination and hard work. When he died, his longtime foreman Buddy didn't think Jenny could hold the place together, but she surprised him and they became close friends. Now his son Gil has returned from his time in Iraq and needs something to do to keep his mind off his injury and those lives of his friends who didn't make it back. Jenny agrees to hire him.
Gil is no slouch in the looks department (see cover art) or in his learned skills from back when he and Rick were best friends as kids at the ranch. Jenny remembers Gil from their youth and immediately he demonstrates his usefulness. Zach is drawn to him and Gil responds with helping Zach any way he can.
Jenny resists any attraction she feels for Gil until she realizes she just can't anymore. She appreciates his hard work and enjoys the limited time they have together both sharing conversation they haven't been able to have with anyone else. But then sensitive issues rise up, vocal conflicts cause some anger, and then the one girl who broke Gil's heart shows up looking like a Vogue model, announcing she's getting a divorce. There's a devastating theft at the ranch, Jenny's longstanding feud with her father must be addressed, plus her sister's getting married.
Needless to say, because it is a romance after all, conflicts ease, question marks resolve, feuds end, and love is in the air. If Renegade Hearts was a movie, we'd all be cheering at the end. If you need a nice little escape and want a romance to provide it, I recommend Anne Patrick's Renegade Hearts. A feel-good story with likable characters in a lush setting where the landscape feels beautiful and the delicious smells of a ranch permeate the make-believe air.
Father, please continue to bless Anne Patrick in every way. Meet her needs with your abundance as she continues to honor you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Love is indeed a many splendored thing. So it's good to have it celebrated with gratitude in a song. Another oldie but goodie.
God, you are Love. Only you define it, know it, originated it, and share it with your creation. Apart from you, we have no idea what love is. Help us to love better. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Crazy clothes, hair, styles, but the words sing of those times and beyond. The days of fabulous music from all kinds of groups.
Lord, only you know where some of these souls are today. I hope they found you, Jesus. Many of them did, and many of them didn't or haven't. Only you can save them. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Secular literature is often set apart from Christian literature by its sometimes excessive use of profanity and erotic scenes. There are those who read general market novels who don't necessarily appreciate massive doses of profanity but endure it because of the types of stories they prefer to read. Some Christians who read fiction will not tolerate even the use of "hell" in their stories and react rather loudly to it in their reviews wherever they post them and send protests to the publishers who dare to produce such "filth" under the Christian Fiction label.
Let's first take a look at why profanity appears in stories. I think it's safe to say the primary reason for using profane words is authenticity. Unless you smother yourself in a sheltered environment, you will hear swear/cuss words somewhere. People use them. Too much in many places without reservation or decorum. Fact remains: profanity is common. These days it's not uncommon for teachers to cuss and swear in the schools which enables the students to do likewise contributing to the degradation of the public school system. So. For writers to use profane language in fiction is a way of depicting actual occurrences in speech patterns for particular people-slash-characters.
My position on profanity in fiction is this: I don't want my novels littered with cuss/swear words, but I'm not above using an occasional "hell" or "damn" and reference to the f-word without actually spelling it out. Why? For the reason stated above: authenticity in the characters. I don't write about a sheltered environment where the Christian characters aren't exposed to the realities of this sinful world. And my characters aren't perfect, usually many of them in different stages of their faith or having not yet experienced the saving grace of Jesus Christ.
Having said that, I'm not about to imitate secular fiction by including a bunch of profanity in my stories. I think the effect of suggesting profanity in different circumstances can be almost as effective and sometimes more effective than the real deal.
As a reader, I have my limits. I will read authors in the general market who use it, but I prefer those who choose to write less of it as opposed to more. I've been surprised by some of the series novels I follow when the author has chosen to use cuss words minimally but then in their next book the level of profanity increases, and in some of their writings its usage tends to go back and forth without a discernable reason for the increase.
I know this topic is not a pleasant one for those readers who shudder at the mention of profanity, but, as a writer, I've needed to decide how authentic I want to be while respecting the holiness we, as Christians, are called to honor. For me, I consider the story God has inspired me to tell and do my best to tell it real-ly and righteously. The end result is ultimately between God and me.
Father, you know above all else I want to honor you with my writing. Thank you for giving me stories to write. I'm so grateful for each word. Help me to continue with the ones you've given me. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
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