Into the Fire

Go now, write it on a tablet for them,
inscribe it on a scroll,
that for the days to come
it may be an everlasting witness.
These are rebellious people, deceitful children,
children unwilling to listen to the Lord’s instruction.
They say to the seers,
“See no more visions!”
and to the prophets,
“Give us no more visions of what is right!
Tell us pleasant things,
prophesy illusions.
Leave this way,
get off this path,
and stop confronting us
with the Holy One of Israel!”

Isaiah 30:8-11 (NIV)

I’ve always loved my name. Many people I’ve known have hated or disliked their names. My first name isn’t so different now, but it was one of a kind when I was young. I’ve always loved it. My middle name is my mom’s first name: Colleen. Isn’t that pretty? And my last name just goes so well with the other two. I’m very grateful for my entire name including that of my husband’s.

I’ve discovered that many of the “average readers” don’t realize how empowered they are to spread the word about a good book—that they’re a definitive part of the coveted “word of mouth” marketing tool. They read a novel, they like it, they start the next one, and unless anyone happens to ask them about a certain book they’ve read, it won’t come up in their conversations—even with other readers! Ay, ay, ay.

Just finished reading my seventh novel this month! Mercy! I had to hustle because a couple of them arrived late, but they were good so they went fast.

I really do not like to be scared, so I’m wondering why I read thrillers, murder mysteries, suspense, a little CBA horror, and watch the following television shows: “NCIS”, “CSI” (all three), “Bones”, and “Criminal Minds”. I’ve read two non-fiction books about the FBI profiling of the worst serial killers. What’s wrong with me?

I love proclaiming the talents of other writers who I enjoy. It’s so easy. Not so with myself.

Father, praise your holy name. You are slow to anger, abounding in love. Thank you for it all. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

The Lord referred to the death of a sparrow to point out that nothing is insignificant to God Almighty. The little bird with the big voice, a rather plain brown bird, comes to the end of life and God knows. I think we can assume from that fact that He also knew when the small little critter was born. And that the Creator gave him those plain clothes to accentuate that robust and beautiful singing voice over his appearance. Perhaps.

God chose a specific order for my life that not all people have enjoyed. Three “things” have been with me as far back as memory travels. Horses, writing, and romance. Ordinary things for sure, but it’s kind of extraordinary to me that they have been so prevalent throughout all of these years. They’ve intersected and stood alone, but they have accompanied me on my life journey.

I’ve done some crazy things—some fun, a few daring, and some I’m ashamed of—but there’s been this steady march toward the meshing and filling out of each of these areas in my life. God ordained. His plan. His design. It took me long enough to discover His overseeing, but finally when I did, it all made so much more sense than just my acknowledgement of these recurring phases and with that recognition I gained purpose.

I have to think that even the sparrow is designed with a purpose, if nothing else to delight God with songs that herald the arrival of His new days with lovely melody sung from a heart living a simple life.

When the journey becomes confused and centers on oneself, it’s a better choice to listen to the song of the sparrow in the morning and be reminded of so many simpler things of value.

Father, thank you for design, purpose, your plans. Thank you for the beauty of the simpler things, the songs of the sparrow, the very center of life that comes and exists only within you. Praise your holy Name. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Inspiration comes and goes. Some people keep it fueled for long seasons. Others grasp onto it for the here and now and then watch it slip away like a foggy morning. No use in categorizing it or trying to explain its appearance or its disappearance. I’m sure there are things we can do to squelch or hinder it, and very possibly for some, there are things that can be done to coax it back, but I suspect that would be much like trying to bribe a cat.

Sustaining the creative compulsion is a challenge. When little affirmation comes our way and even less reason to continue writing with no cognizant evidence of progress, we can feel played out in this game of storytelling.

Writing itself begins to assert its fiendish side. Snarling and cynical, words fall onto the page with hints of venom and snark. The wit with a bite crunches down on our faux-favorite topics and shakes them about with a hint of vengeance.

Resentment rides the high waves of meager accomplishments and drives through the curl poised over our pens with less than noble intentions. No surprise the pen flips us into the ocean of doubt and regret.

The reckoning comes when a particular scene, word, name, character, expression, metaphor, or plot point surges to the surface filling us with a fresh breath, and we jump aboard the writing process anew. The previous wave’s played out by now, but there’s a new one behind it, even bigger.

The Lord God Almighty gets all the credit for reviving our feeble efforts to continue this gig known as “authoring”. He is inspiration. Apart from Him, it doesn’t exist. Sad to see so few acknowledge the Source of their abilities.

If you’re played out, go to the Source and ask for help. There’s no better way to get back in the game.

Jesus, it’s all about you.

Continually, whether frequently or infrequently, we read about the literary vs. the world, the Amish or prairie romances vs. contemporary whatever, vampires/werewolves, zombies, etc., specfic, sci-fi, and fantasy vs. everything in the ever expanding genres of Christian/CBA fiction. Writers take sides, deride opponents, state the obvious, rant or rave, and declare their passions for their favorite types of fiction.

Recently Eric Wilson, author of the Thomas Nelson published Trilogy of the Undead, Christian literature featuring vampires, said critics/observers accused him of “jumping on the Twilight bandwagon” when, in fact, he stated that he’d proposed a series about vampires over five years ago.

It seems ludicrous to me to allow the serial killers in the Christian thriller/horror genre to kill rampantly while denying the bloodthirsty vampires or other such wicked beasts to be sanctioned to the secular market. Personally speaking, I don’t remotely care about the vampire, etcetera culture amped up because of their particular current flavor for beast of the month or year or era. Not my gig. Never has been. However, if any writer wants to engage in such literature, it’s alright with me. Now a Christian writer who attempts to bring these types into the Christian “label” will have to do an amazing job of placing that scary creature into a potentially more meaningful story which could require more skill than the standard issue monster novels purport simply because it has to win an audience which is used to reading them from the secular market.

Regarding the other end of the writing spectrum, if a writer wants to step back into a culture where life is structured to the max, observe a time now gone by, and keep to long past means of transportation, communication, and other less modern ways to live, I say go for it. Do the research and write the story.

Either way, there’s the escape mechanism involved. The reasons for reading a novel involve escaping to the place and activities of the author’s presentation to the reader.

It makes no sense to me to argue for one over the other. To assume because there is a large audience for the sweet prairie romances or the Amish/Mennonite stories, that there aren’t audiences for the other extremes in Christian literature is to eliminate segments of the audiences still waiting for Christian novels to address their needs.

Each genre in Christian fiction presents its own niche market. Why not produce novels for all of them? I still maintain there must be a way to produce smaller numbers of niche market novels so that all readers who desire stories which at least involve biblical values in some manner can be available. But then . . . what do I know?

The only place I know of which requires certain books be read is in school and still people find ways not to read them. No one forces a consumer to pay hard-earned cash to buy one novel over another. And although there is definitely a competition for those book buying dollars, there shouldn’t be a competition which eliminates entire genres before they even have the chance to consistently compete for their share. Should there?

Father, you know the vast imaginations of your people and the tasks you’ve given your writers. You are no respecter of persons, you love us equally. Help us all to write to honor you with the words you supply. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Stacy Hawkins Adams tackles some heavy issues in what starts out as a somewhat typical dilemma-laced group of young ambitious adults determined to live out their dreams with little interference. Our attractive heroine Indigo Burns is pressured by her future Navy pilot boyfriend Brian into engagement before he takes off for Officer Candidate School along with their mutual best friend Shelby. Brian’s got it in his head that their wedding needs to be sooner rather than later, and Indigo is struggling with the timeframe because she’s got a scholarship to an elite grad school to perfect her photography skills.

Okay, so I’m not the target audience for this novel because I am long past the challenges I faced at this young age when everything claims priority in one’s life, and love seems like it’s either fanning the flames of passion or getting in the way of personal achievement. Stacy captures the angst, the drama, and the confusion of being young and determined but not quite adept at following the will of God instead of one’s own directions and desires.

The novel moves along in the lives of these young people and their families with little distraction until suddenly four gut-wrenching episodes erupt, causing pain, shock, fear, and indecision. The reader might not react to all of them, but at least one of them will probably shake up or affect everyone who picks up the book in some way.

Make no mistake: this is a Christian novel. The characters face difficult and potentially life changing decisions, and there are no easy answers available, so each one must look for God’s leading if they intend to walk their talk. Due to the ages of the main characters in this novel, we watch some diva-like behavior from Indigo and some serious confusion from Brian which I think the author captures well at the surface level. Due to the length and style of the novel, the trials aren’t examined with much depth.

My personal opinion as to the target audience for this novel is probably around the 20-something women seeking careers, real love, the marriage option, and a deeper walk with the Lord. It’s about people who are challenged by these kinds of decisions but unsure of what exactly God desires of them in certain areas. The stresses of wanting things to fall into place without a hitch force each of them to look inside themselves to find who they truly are and what will be required of them. Life is not lived without sacrifice of some kind, and in this story there are some major levels demanded.

I liked Stacy’s approach to the skin color of her characters, treating the observance of their skin tones with appreciation and lovely imagery. Although her characters are African-American for the most part, they are really any of us, young and old, seeking answers to humbling and difficult questions, and pressing on in spite of all life’s varied opportunities, distractions, sufferings, and confrontations. The author makes it clear that the only way for anyone to do this successfully is to be fully in tune with and in submission to the Lord. Published by Revell, a division of Baker Books, Worth A Thousand Words is a good title, and a meaningful story for the younger crowd.

Father, please continue to bring forth meaningful stories from Stacy’s repertoire of knowledge and experience. Watch over her and keep her safe and continue to inspire in her in every endeavor done in service to you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

I tell you the truth, anyone who has faith in me will do what I have been doing. He will do even greater things than these because I am going to the Father.

John 14:12 (NIV)

Another CFBA Weekend Tour starts today with Shawn Grady’s first novel Through the Fire. I had only a couple days to read the novel, but it was well worth the hustle.

Aidan O’Neill, known to fellow firefighters as A-O, is carrying a grudge, some guilt, a suspicion, and an attitude to every fire where he’s assigned. Tempted to be a cowboy and a hero in his methods at fire scenes, he often succumbs to that temptation. He maintains a grudge against God for allowing his father to die in a fire while secretly blaming himself for the event which caused his death. His suspicion continues to reason that certain occurrences in that fire don’t add up, and that just maybe his father was murdered. His attitude screams I can do it all, and the fire can’t get me.

His friend, Blake Williams, is a fire inspector who’s been passed over for promotion more than once which doesn’t come into play until later in the story, but Blake has been collaborating with Aidan in his spare time to attempt to discover who might’ve tried to kill Aidan’s father.

When Aidan’s cowboy efforts cause the serious injury of a young probie, he is suspended for two weeks without pay. Instead of hanging around and feeling the tremendous burden of having a fellow firefighter in the hospital because of his actions added to the untimely breakup with his longtime fiancée Christine, he takes off for Baja to accept an invitation from his dad’s brother who was once a fireman, Uncle Cormac, to spend some time at his “estate”. Once there he nearly dies after rescuing a child from the ocean but then receives a call to return to his Station because of the magnitude of chaos with an arsonist.

Since Shawn himself is a veteran firefighter, Through the Fire is authentic, suspenseful, and written with a distinct voice I fully enjoyed. As is the case with Tom Morrisey, Shawn Grady doesn’t talk down to the reader. He uses the language of his profession and sends us down the pole and duck walking into the smoke. He put in several stratagems to keep us guessing who the perpetrator of such heinous destruction might actually be, and he added romantic tension to keep it interesting but never let the brief relationship encounters overshadow or overcome the meat of the story.

Well done for a first effort. Great voice and clever methods used in telling the tale. Every author has his quirks. If I had to point out one thing I thought was overdone, it would be the use of many instances of multi-colorful description. I’m sure the author had his reasons, and if that’s the only point I can find to slightly bug me, it’s totally insignificant.

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0764205951

Father, I pray for Shawn’s safety every time he faces the flames of the beast. Bless him with your divine protection and let the fire speak to him. Continue to give him stories to tell and bless all endeavors done in obedience and service to you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

You know how different thoughts zing around in your mind once the trigger of a few words has been pulled? Well . . . I’ve been thinking. Again. I know: oh no.

Just because some people have smushed (I love that non-word), tainted, embarrassed, or blemished the “name” of Christian doesn’t mean we just abandon it like the fault lies in the name itself.

I have to chuckle sometimes when we try to improve upon what exists, insisting it needs revamping because suddenly it’s not good enough. Christians have been insulted since their inception. And to nobly refer to ourselves as “Christ followers” or any other religious label instead of Christians seems humorous to me. Are you any less of a Christ follower and more of a Christian when you find yourself in sin—thinking evil thoughts about that punk who cut you off in traffic, when your thoughts swirl unexpectedly into unseemly imaginings when that hot girl or guy walks by, when you think your brother or sister in Christ is acting like a full-on jerk, or when you snap at your child’s innocent question because you’re just plain tired of anything to do with questions?

People besmirch titles all the time. So if a criminal happens to have the same name as you, do you change your name? Maybe you do, I don’t know. Anyone can call themselves anything—Christian, believer, Christ follower—but regardless of their choice, it doesn’t mean they will do it justice. It’s not about what we call ourselves, it’s about how we conduct ourselves from the inside out. So many Christians are judged and judge others by the appearances of what they say and do. It won’t matter if misinformation or mis-judgment occurs. There are often very few opportunities to correct wrongs. God will know the truth, and sometimes He’s the only One who will besides the individual who faces judgment from peers. So in the end, whatever you decide to call yourself doesn’t really matter: it’s what you do and what you say and how you deliver it that will mark you one way or another. And even when you do it all “right”, you will face judgment from those who are motivated by the minions of evil who hate and fear Jesus Christ.

I am a follower of Christ, but Christian suffices for me, or born again believer, or whatever. I am in Christ because He saved me from my sins. He did not eliminate my sins, He covered them with His sinless Blood. I am glad, relieved, and content to be called a Christian and may my lifestyle and heart be demonstrated with Jesus in the forefront. I fail and I struggle, but God loves me in spite of me. I don’t need to change my name to do a better job of representing Him. I need to follow the Holy Spirit’s promptings and directions to dissuade those who hate and accuse me because of His Name. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Before I say anything else, I have to say what a pleasure, and a privilege really, it is to read a novel by Tom Morrisey. For any of you adventure readers, when he sits down to write stories about his multi-talents with skin, scuba, or any underwater diving, get ready for an exciting venture. He knows of which he writes, and his novels are page turners. But in the same way that he can write about adventure, he can touch the heart with exacting words, the spirit of romance, and a tale which layers the experiences of the human heart.

One thing I appreciate about Tom’s writing is his refusal to talk down to the reader. I have been down in the deep and climbing to the top of rock cliffs with Tom and without understanding all the terms and pieces of equipment, I can still be engrossed in the characters and story without feeling left out of the tension or danger or discovery.

Having said that, I understood very little of the authentic portions and descriptions of the simultaneous stories carrying on between the covers of his latest novel Pirate Hunter. But the tale of pirates on a vessel which can’t help but remind one of the Black Pearl alongside the tale of some legitimate treasure hunters diving to find an amazing score keeps the reader thoroughly involved to learn how these two tales will eventually intersect.

The similar conflicts of two young men, one a budding pirate and the other a contemporary diver, reveal that both have father, damsel, and maturity issues. By the end of Pirate Hunter these issues have reached workable conclusions.

When these two stories reach their conclusion, I found their intersection to be well done, but if there was even the slightest weakness in the ending, I felt the wrap-up of the contemporary story ended abruptly like the reaching of a word count limit. Otherwise, wonderful stories and done with the expertise, daring, and emotional experience one comes to expect from Tom Morrisey. Guys, Pirate Hunter is a great adventurous read. Savvy?

http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0764203487

Lord God, all I can say is keep feeding Tom stories to tell. Thank you for his talents—you’ve given him so many. Help him to continue to honor you with all of them. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.