Into the Fire

Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God

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Passionate: right or wrong. Writes love stories with a passion. Raw Romantic Redemptive

  • Outranked . . .

     

    If you follow me here or join up with me here or link with me here . . . what?

    No guarantees. How many numbers of followers make your work more saleable? How many friends mean your work will sell big? How many linked-in, signed-up, tweeted-out, or googled-in networks will push your rankings into a formidable mode able to impress those who matter in the publishing network?

    How many ads, book trailers, giveaways, Amazon reviews will it take to gain sales?

    What interviews, reviews, blog posts will incite numbers of readers to buy your work?

    Concrete stats anyone?

     

    Father, thank you for all you do. Thank you that we don't have to work for your love. I'd fail miserably. Thank you for who you are. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Music . . .

     

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pPJePk4IW_I

     

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    Father, I worship your gift. Thank you, Jesus.

  • Your Prayers . . .

     

    First of all, there is nothing like prayer. I know we've all prayed for miracles, for God's will to be accomplished, for healings, for salvations, for every kind of mercy and forgiveness. And sometimes it seems we must wait or the answer is no. Most Christians will tell you at times we get disheartened. We don't love God less. It's just that we don't get it. The big picture is high in the heavens or pie in the sky. We fail to understand the answer(s) to our plea(s).

    Yesterday I requested prayer for my friend Betsy. Her surgery was scheduled for 7 AM and began on time. However, although what they found was exactly what they expected as far as size, it was something totally different than they suspected – and not as involved – which therefore required a small section of the matastisized area of her colon to be removed along with the cancerous mass and then just stitched it up. They got it all. And although the recommendation is for follow-up chemotherapy, the surgeon says she should be fine. As in non life threatening. As in far less damage than was originally diagnosed. As in a positive result with a textbook surgery. Why? Because people like you prayed for Betsy. Because God listens to His people's prayers. Because God loves Betsy. And because you and I know this is a testimony to what He can do when just the opposite is expected. And we say "Praise the Lord" and "Thank you, Jesus" because we know from where all good and perfect gifts come.

     

    Good reports of answers to prayer tend to move our faith meters up a notch. So many times we contend with the opposite answers and work through situations which nag at us and, whether justified or not, lose a bit of our faith in the process.

    I'm honored that you would take up your shield of faith and bear your armor to battle in prayer for my friend Betsy, for Lee Hough, for Vince Flynn, and/or Sandi Rog. All of us need each others' prayers, especially when disease and sickness strike at our fragility. And I'm so grateful to God to give you a good report to encourage you to keep "praying for all the saints" and those who've yet to accept the true physician. Thank you from my heart for your prayers.

     

    God, please continue the healing in Betsy's body, soul, and spirit. May she know you, Jesus, as you wish to be known. May your mercy accompany her recovery. May the good reports continue. Thank you for loving Betsy, Lord. Holy Spirit, draw her to your side. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

     

  • My friend . . .

     

    We all have friends. Close ones. Faraway ones. Friends who’ve been with us, joined at the heart and soul, with commonalities and oppositions, just friends. Some believe as we do, and some do not, some hold the same opinions, and some do not. Some we use for counsel and some use us for the same. We laugh, we cry, we express our cynicism and our innocence (what we’ve managed to salvage) with them. They are and always will be our friends.

     

    One of the friends in my life goes way back to when we were rebellious young women in the confusion of the early 70s and living “the dream” on the racetrack. My friend has seen me at my worst and now at my best (which is nothing to shout about by the way).  And still we are friends.

     

    Neither of us is still in horse racing, but it was a huge part of our lives for many years. My friend eventually migrated to New York racing and has done many things in the industry. After a considerable time, she went to nursing school, got a Masters in nursing, became a Nurse Practitioner and has worked in her dual professions for many years now.

     

    Elizabeth (Betsy) Grose faces cancer surgery this Monday morning and has been wrestling with the reality of it all for a few weeks since she’s been diagnosed. Like any patient, she’s miffed at her regular doctor for not heeding her concerns for symptoms that have bothered her for some time. She regrets not getting a second opinion when those symptoms persisted. Then came some more symptoms, and she sought specific opinions for those. Not too much later: here we are.

     

    Facing a two-part surgery, and like any patient, hoping for the best while preparing for the worst.

     

    Suffice it to say we differ in our belief system, and I hesitate to call knowing Christ a “belief system”. However, I know she needs prayer, and I’m relatively sure she appreciates it. Especially now.

     

    My request for anyone who stops by today is to please pray for my friend Betsy. I love her. We know Jesus loves her even more. We also know Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He still touches the sick, the infirm, the lost. And heals. In every way. Please pray as the Lord leads you and remember Betsy today and in the coming days.

     

     

    Faher, you know how I feel about Betsy, and I know how you feel about Betsy. The thing is you’re the only one who can help her here. Please comfort her and provide a good outcome to this ugly result of sin on planet earth. The stench of sickness and disease on a decaying planet. Jesus, please be real to Betsy today and in the coming days. Help her to experience the real and true joy of Christmas this year. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Sunday’s Offerings

     

    Thus there were fourteen generations in all from Abraham to David, fourteen from David to the exile to Babylon, and fourteen from the exile to the Christ.

    Matthew 1:17 (NIV)

  • Follow up on Lee Hough

     

    Here's the latest from literary agent and good guy Lee Hough who's battled and survived brain cancer:

    Hello to my band of merry witnesses!

    Yesterday:

    The radiation oncology doctor came in – a great guy, someone we like. He went through the normal questions you always get asked at first, “Seizures?” No. “Headaches?” No. “Dizziness?” No. “Dogs shedding a lot?” Yes. And on it went, zip, zap, fine, good. And then he closed my file and said, “Have you thought about getting an MRI soon?”

    This is one of those moments when all sound fades and if Rod Serling, Mr. Twilight Zone himself, had walked in it would not have surprised me in the least. Without saying a word, I turned and looked at Paula with one of those Did he actually just say that? looks. Then turned back to the doctor and said, “We did already; and we were supposed to get the results from you today.” Nanosecond synapse are firing the message that he doesn’t have the report – we’re not going to find out the results today – I don’t think I can take this – prepare for heart toexplode, SOS, wife will burst into flames and I’ll be given her ashes at the front desk on my way out. What’s the proper Christian response? I can’t think clearly, so it kind of comes in staccato bursts: Don’t hurt doctor, nice doctor. Nice Lee,good boy. I’m reaching critical mass just when the doctor reopened my file and offers that sometimes the staff forgets to put the results on top. My faculties are shutting down and I’ve gone mute, which is probably best. But my mind has a few words left in its vocabulary: Forgets? An MRI? A person’s life is hanging in the balance and they forget? Still waiting as he flips page after page. Still mercifully mute.

    “Here it is.” OH MY LORD. I’m going to need a heart transplant later. I can practically smell smoke where Paula is sitting. There’s just one paragraph on a page. He’s reading the report – I’m trying to read him. Is it life? Is it death? Tick tock, tick tock. All my body functions, including breathing, have suspended until further notice.

    “Looks good, you’re fine.” My hearing starts to come back. And speech. “No cancer? It’s clean?”

    “Yes, clear. There’s a cyst from the surgery. Normal and nothing to be worried about. Also some burned tissue, but again, that’s normal. You’re good.” He said some other words, but I’m starting to lose my hearing again. No cancer. OH MY LORD! Thank you, Jesus. The doctor closes the file and starts to get up signaling time to go. This is all happening so fast that it’s almost surreal. Whoa, wait, I can’t let it go just yet. “Doc, I just want to hear it one more time.” He got a big grin on his face, looked at me and said, “You are cancer free.” OH MY LORD!

    I shook the doc’s hand. Paula gave this 6’4’’ giant a hug. And then we walked out into the lobby without a word. Hold it. Wait. Not yet. We took the thumbs up picture that was on the Caring Bridge yesterday in kind of a daze. Then calmly walked out of the lobby around a wall and then grabbed each other in a hug with tears starting to flow. And I’m not talking about your cuddly hug thing. This was love expressed in that raw fierceness when you know you’ve just sidestepped disaster. You don’t let go. Oh my beautiful, strong, Paula.

    And the news started trickling out. One friend wrote, “I just yelled out so loud in my hair salon that one of the stylists dropped her dryer!” And another said, “I’m dancing in my office and the dogs are barking and we’re celebrating before Jesus!” There were texts, pictures, videos, calls, Caring Bridge notes all day long. I can’t figure out if I’m crying because of being told I’m cancer free or because of this amazing love that the Lord is pouring out through all of you. Who cares?!

    Seizures? Yes. “Have you thought about getting an MRI soon?”

    Headaches? Yes. “Sometimes the staff forgets to put the report on top.”

    Dizziness? Yes. Waiting and watching as the doctor reads the script for my life in front of me.

    Deliriously Happy? Yes. “You're cancer free.”

    OH MY LORD! I keep tearing up at the drop of a hat. To all my merry band of witnesses: Thank you for this extraordinary gift – and I’m not talking about the good news. I’m talking about you and your prayers.

    Don’t drop your dryers and keep them doggies howling.

    Love you.

     

    God, you're faithful, mighty, and loving. Thank you for the healing you've ordained thus far. We continue to ask for complete healing for Lee and many years of fruitful service to your kingdom. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Just a peek . . .

     

    . . . at who I am.

    Recently I attended a movie by myself. For whatever odd reason sometimes I enjoy going to the movies solo. This particular film shall remain nameless, but the one thing about this event that gives you a look at who I am happened during the previews to future releases. Once the clips started for the coming film War Horse, I lost it. Scrambling for Kleenexes in my purse, I sat alone trying not to bawl out loud, lowering my gaze and discreetly plugging my ears. Needless to say, I can't do most animal films. Tears me up. And tears me up. We've got two of our beloved Thoroughbreds, two beautiful German Shepherds, and one cat buried on our property. I type these words through tears. If you're not an animal lover, you won't get it. When this particular film trailer now shows on television during the football game commercials, off I go into another room. My husband might snicker at me, but he'll also hold me and let me sob when needed. He didn't always . . .

    I can be driving in my rig and listen to the OnStar commercials on the radio, hear the frantic voices, the fear and desperation, and cry.

    Remember the Hallmark commercials on television? Tear city.

    Mention of the military? The Star Spangled Banner? Sobs. 

    Some of the songs I've linked to on this blog bring me to tears.

    The same passion that drives me also steers my hurt level.

    So. Now you know just a piece of me.

    Father, I'm grateful for the sensitivity you've given me. I know I need to direct it where you desire it to be. Help me to do that. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • The evil thing . . .

     

    How to write evil . . . hmm. Much of the evil portrayed on screen has become a stereotypical monster of either gargantuan physical or psychological proportions and usually with demonic overtones whether acknowledged or not. Novel evil varies from the subtle to extreme but often incorporates stereotypical personalities also with demonic overtones.

    Writing evil characters isn't hard per se, but writing authentic characters who are evil can be a major challenge.

    It's been suggested by some very good writers both in discussions and in their stories that we're all capable of horrible evil. While I concur we're all capable of terrible sins, not all of us will become serial killers if we don't use self-control. Some of us can't even squash spiders, let alone shoot a bullet hole or jab a knife through another human being. Perhaps our most vile conduct will be conducted in our minds and consists of wishing some diva we work with will break a heel off her designer shoes.

    How do you construct evil in your stories?

     

    Father, help us to never glorify the darkness but may we portray it honestly and contrast it brilliantly to your Light. In the Name of Jesus, Amen. 

     

  • So. You’re A Published Author.

     

    Congratulations to you! You worked hard. You jumped through hoops. Risked and received rejections. Survived – maybe even flourished through – editing. Watched the cover art originate and be perfected. Wrote your Acknowledgments. Your book is released, and perhaps the next one, maybe a sequel or a series, is begun. You have a contract for more. You are a published author!

    Whether your experience arriving at this station in your writing career came through sheer diligence and perseverance or if it came through a smooth series of events, what you've gained in the process of being published is invaluable, not only to you but to others with which you can now share.

    This is the upside.

    Let me tell you about one of the downsides. Rarely mentioned. Perhaps rightly so – I'm still undecided on that. Not everyone will be impressed with your accomplishment. Not everyone will think your writing style is admirable, and not everyone will like your voice or your story. Therefore, and I say this respectfully, don't presume to be a teacher/editor of the writing craft and technique. Don't assume you can abide by, recite, enforce, or even deny "the rules" with any authority. And please don't elevate your experience to the level of something extraordinary gained only by your due diligence and study of the craft. Please. Don't.

    If you're tempted to do this, take a walk through Barnes & Noble. Stare at the ever-increasing volume of fiction sitting on those shelves. Take a good hard look. Some of those stories are ridiculous and some of them are ridiculously good. Yours could be either/or or fit somewhere in between.

    Writing a novel, good or bad, and getting it published does not guarantee you're a teacher of fiction, of the craft, of really anything. It might mean you're incredibly talented and have a dynamite future in the biz. It could mean you're a one-hit wonder. It could even mean you're not a one-hit wonder – you're just one of many.

    Enjoy the accolades if they come. Enjoy the experience for its value. Enjoy the beauty and wonder of holding your novel in your hands after all those hours and hours of hard work.

    Be careful to hear the Lord's voice in all of it. His instruction is the only one that truly matters. If He assigns a teaching stint mixed in with all your future writing endeavors: embrace it. Be the best, the most informative, the most encouraging writing instructor you can be. If He's in it, you'll be a good one. If He's not . . . 

    Lord, help us to never think of ourselves more highly than we ought. Please. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

  • Beauty . . .

     

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5NgVpWV4sEs

     

                        ThumbnailCAKQHTOD

     

     

     

    Father, your anointing falls on certain songs, books, people . . . This song demonstrates that unique and beautiful anointing. Thank you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.