Everybody Now!!

I have placed this post and the following back to the top because 1) You can still make a contribution to the blogathon for the next 48 hours. It was 12:33am when I originally posted this and I may have gotten a little loopy already but it's still special to me, and 2) Sharon's interview is important. I hope you will consider the retreat for next year.

Jesus loves the little children
All the children of the world (everybody sing)
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in His sight
Jesus loves the little children
of the world

Good job!!
I'm still looking for more sponsors.
Sponsor Me!

Chilling & Thrilling Interview With SNE

Yeah, all right. Now that I've got your attention, here's the dynamic interview with the ever busy Queen Bee, Sharon Norris Elliott. Okay then, let's get serious...




Me: What inspired you to write your book, “Living the Milk and Honey Life?”

Sharon: After studying about the Israelites and their release from Egyptian captivity, it shocked me that after their miraculous release, they wanted to go back to their captivity when they met their first challenge. My girlfriends and I began talking about how we had been released from our own “Egypts” yet we too would want to return to the very things we longed to be delivered from. This book discusses this trait in us as women.

Me: Tell us a little bit more about “Living the Milk and Honey Life.”

Sharon: When God brought the Israelites out of their Egyptian bondage, he intended for them to live in the Promised Land, a land flowing with milk and honey. Living the milk & honey life means you are living as God would have you to live. Your new life is one characterized by the joy and peace you will find when you are following God’s directives.

Me: What is a Milk and Honey Life retreat?

Sharon: The Milk & Honey Life Retreat is a time when women can get away from their daily responsibilities to concentrate on hearing from God. Women are pampered physically at a beautiful resort, allowed to explore their emotional issues in a safe environment surrounded by other loving sisters and professional workshop leaders, and encouraged and challenged spiritually through God’s word.

***
For more information on this awesome retreat visit Sharon's Site.
***

Me: How did it go this year?

Sharon: This year’s retreat was a phenomenal success. All of the above took place under the anointing of God. Some women were able to talk through some issues, others felt they heard from God in regard to the vision He wanted them to personally fulfill their lives. Still others, who had come just for the relaxation and fellowship, got that rest and made new friends. Most of the women are excited about returning next year and intend to bring friends along.

Me: When is the next one?

Sharon: Next year’s Milk & Honey Life Retreat is at the same location (The Boulders Resort and Golden Door Spa) in Carefree, AZ, near Phoenix. It will be held June 29 – July 1, 2007. Talks are underway for the Milk & Honey Life Retreat to go to different locations around the country. If your readers are interested in sponsoring a retreat closer to their own area, have them contact me through the website at MilkAndHoneyLife . An area sponsor will work with our MHLR office at choosing an appropriate site. We would need to guarantee a minimum of 60 women, and would assist with local advertising, promotion, and on-site volunteer support staffing during the event.

Me: As far as writing, what is your next project?

Sharon: I have several ideas for my next writing projects. I’m working on 3 book proposals and it all depends upon which contract comes through first as to what I actually concentrate on. I’m working on two more women’s titles: one challenging women with the question, “Are you concerned about what concerns God?” The other discusses the armor of God for women. The third project is a compilation devotional book.

Me: Well, thanks, Sharon, for taking the time to talk with us. We look forward to working, oops I mean, reading your next master piece.

The End.....
sort of

You can buy Sharon's books right here.
Living a Milk And Honey Life: Letting Go of What's Holding You Back
and also check out . . .
What? Teenagers in the Bible

Thanks for reading thus far and for your utmost and undivided attention.

The End of . . .

Goodbye old and new friends. We had a good time, didn't we? It's 5:52am, Sunday morning. Daylight has arrived. I will now take a shower and go to bed. If I go to church I might kill somebody (on the road, with my car, accidently) which would not be a good thing. Church is 98 miles away from home. I'm a little tired. VBS starts Monday. FUN!!!! Good Night.

Some Parting Words

"Keep on loving each other as brothers. Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing s0me people have entertained angels without knowing it." (Hebrews 13:1,2 NIV)

Blogathon 2007? Absolutely!!

Blogathon 2007! Heck yeah! I’ll be there. It was exhilarating, to say the least. I was particularly impressed with all our bloggers and the charities we chose. It speaks volumes for all of us. How hard it must be for people to make up their minds—who should they sponsor, all those charities are worth the money and all the bloggers were worth pure gold. I am proud to have been a part of Blogathon 2006 and proud of this community. And another thing, as a writer, it has challenged me to squeeze out every ounce of creativity—48 posts. My brain will never be the same. Wow! See you next year.

A Plug For Mom's Cookbook

because apparently I've kept her up all night.

Come & Dine

Exotic Indonesian Recipes, fun and unique ones from The Netherlands and Australia.

Most Treasured Memory

When Sarah's little brother was born she became a little jealous (okay, a whole lot of jealous). She said that Layne will have to live in the hospital. Of course, she had no choice and Grandma took her to my hospital room. She sat on the chair with a little pout, but she had a little smile on her face when she saw baby brother. Then she asked if she could hold him. She forgot her jealousy and we have pictures of her being quite the mommy which, to Layne's horror, she continues to be today.

A Scripture So Interesting

I'll give my opinion if you give your's first. This may or may not take a little bit of thinking. Here's the verse from Genesis 6:4 (NIV).

"The Nephilim were on the earth in those day--and also afterward--when the sons of God went to the daughters of men and had children by them. They were the heroes of old, men of renown."

It must have gotten really bad after these kids were born because soon after God wiped out Earth's population (almost) with a flood. What say ye?

The Best of My Life

The best thing about my life right now is that I’m debt free. And on top of that my Ex-hubby (who’s a nice guy) still owes me a nice little bundle of cash. That’s right, I know, I’m not holding my breath. But hey, I’m debt free. Though that might change, it would only be to help pay for my daughter’s college intuition.

I am loved by so many friends that I can’t keep up with my lunch dates. I’ve never had an appointment book till now. Sweet huh?

But the sweetest thing of all is that my 18 year-old daughter and my 13 year-old son actually kiss me in public.

Horatio Spafford

Horatio, a well-to-do lawyer in Chicago, had one son and four daughters. His only son died. Then, while on vacation with their mother, on the Villa Du Havre, his four daughters drowned when their boat collided with the English ship, Lochearn. Only his wife survived.

After all this, he was able to say it is well with my soul.

Click here for the full story at the Christian History Institute.

Continuing the It-Is-Well-With-My-Soul Theme

I am an outright rocker when it comes to music but I cannot deny the words of this hymn and the reason behind it . . .

It Is Well with My Soul

1. When peace, like a river,
attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot,
Thou hast taught me to say,
“It is well, it is well with my soul”

Chorus: It is well (it is well)
with my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul

2. Though Satan should buffet,
though trials should come,
Let this blessed assurance control,
That Christ has regarded
my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

(Repeat chorus)

3. My sin, oh the bliss
of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross,
and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

(Repeat chorus)

4. And Lord haste the day
when the faith shall be sight,
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;
The trump shall resound,
and the Lord shall descend,
Even so, it is well with my soul.

(Repeat chorus)
Public Domain

Words by Horatio Spafford
Music by Philip Bliss

Read the story of Horatio Spafford and why he wrote this song in the next post!!!

The Conclusion of Still Small Voice

(This is more than sleep, this is rest, this is refreshing. How can she stay in this place of peace?) To the end . . .

The grandfather clock in her dingy living room announced the sixth hour of the early morning. Slowly she opened her eyes. Her two sons clamored for breakfast. She got up and once again surveyed the room. “Oh,” she whispered, “same old house.” Dirty laundry, still sprawled across the floor, waited for her.

But something had changed. She had changed. The overwhelming joy still caressed her. She felt refreshed. There had been a place prepared for her, a place of rest. And it remained with her. He remained with her.

She smiled at her children as she helped out with breakfast and drove them to school. On her way home, before tackling the endless job interviews, Shay strolled into a local park, found a bench and decided to enjoy the Californian sun. Lost in its warmth, she hardly noticed the man who shared her park bench.

At last, when she turned to Him she was greeted with calm and soothing eyes. He looked at her with a love she was beginning to understand—unconditional and forever.

“Am I still dreaming,” she asked.

The man smiled and said, “No, Shay, you were never dreaming. Everything will be all right. I am the maker of the sunrise. The love of your youth. Stay with me and I will stay with you.” His voice trailed off to a whisper.

She cried a little. And when she looked away for an instant to dry her face, he was gone. His presence, however, continued to fill her. It was well with her soul after all. He would make sure of that, all she had to do was let him.

May it not be totally The End . . .

Second to Last Installment of SMV

(Every thing about this place belongs to her and she to it. Is it real? Or is it about the Man?) Read on . . .


After bathing, Shay put on a soft white silk robe and made her way to the bedroom. A gentle fire crackled in the fireplace. It kissed each brick, bringing a warm reddish glow to this magical place.

Was she dreaming? She dare not ask. Time stopped in this place where peace was plenty and joy flowed in abundance—finally, a chance to rest in a sea of comfort.

As her eyes closed, she noticed an old wooden rocking chair and pictured her mother rocking her to sleep as a child to ease the pain of scraped knees or hurtful words from insensitive friends. It moved to and fro when a gentle breeze whispered through the open doors. Once again the mild fragrance of roses and jasmine enchanted her through the sheer curtains as she drifted into blissful sleep.

To be continued . . .

Stayin' Awake

I am splashing a whole lot of cold water on my face and standing underneath the fan. Brrrrrr!! Then I put visine in my eyes (not a lot) and drinking Starbucks Coffee. In between posts I am doing the laundry and I'm trying to write a book review. The latter might take 6 1/2 hours.

My Kitchen Table

Thought I would tell you of my kitchen table. It's a pretty table, round like a circle (LOL). Looks very Asian. The ring around it is black and the middle of it is a creamy marbley type surface. It looks very scratchable but it hasn't yet.

There's a very tall plant on it and around this beauty of a hibiscus there is an array of unwanted and, I confess, wanted things. Such as what, you might ask: 1 bottle of Starbucks frappuccino with vanillia, Milano Amaretto cookies (Oh no!), Jolly Rancher gummies (this can't be good) a glass full of cherry pits, a cup of licorice tea, and a bottle of gushing Dasani water. Ah!

Someone She Knows

(How we all long to go to that quiet place...Shay is there or is she? Come along on her journey to rise above her circumstances.) . . .


“Yes,” He said and offered His hand. She didn’t take it. Her eyes fixed directly upon the man who walked slowly into focus. Did she know Him? Never had she seen Him before. Yet, she remembered him as a constant companion in the past. Where and when had she lost Him?

“I thought it was You,” she whispered. A few tears streamed down her face. “You don’t show up very often, do you?”

“Are you sure?” He asked gently.

The statuesque man stood before another door—glass held together within white wooden frames. As he opened the door, the smell of fresh flowers, roses and jasmine, rushed through this master suite and engulfed her. A tender breeze played with her hair and she giggled. When she ran to embrace him a Spirit that she could barely contain filled her.

Running through sheer, white silk curtains, Shay danced over soft green grass just outside the suite. Drops of dew caressed her bare feet. She ran and played within an ocean of flowers and cool summer breezes. She looked back and saw Him still standing in the doorway and realized how much she had missed Him.

She tip-toed back inside the master suite and followed the sounds of fresh water gushing into a clean bathtub. He was there.

“I’ve prepared a bath for you,” he said.

She could hardly believe the luxury. Everything she had ever dreamed of was here. A simple floor of golden bricks and mortar with walls from the mighty cedar tree—the color of milk and honey. And a sunken bathtub filled with warm water hidden by thousands of bubbles flirting with rose petals tossed here and there. This room, though large, was a cozy and comfortable place and seemingly prepared exclusively for her. Perfumed soaps in beautiful baskets decorated a stone-washed counter. Hanging plants dressed the frame of an open skylight. No artificial light shone here.

He turned to leave and said, “Relax, take your time. You deserve the rest.”

She watched Him turn and go, but his presence remained. His soothing eyes, his warm smile and that voice stayed with her. The voice had taken away all her fears and worries of life.

The water felt supernaturally refreshing. Somehow, it reached her innermost being, and cleansed her from the inside out.

To be continued . . . stay with us now!

Summer Fun Without Mom

Ugh! Well, Layne and I had a good day together. I think he gets what "charity" is. We ate all day, good stuff, we did. I'm sounding like Yoda again.

It's 10:30pm on Friday in Southern Cal, and his dad finally picked him up. Blach, I miss that child already. They are going to Porta Vallarta, Mexico for 7 days.

Shay Remembers

(She's hearing voices. Is she sleeping or wide awake?)


She passed a door—one of her sons’ perhaps. Panic hit hard when she realized she had lost her way in the dark. Still, the voice beckoned her forward. “Where are you?” she asked each time as it gently urged her on.

Her steps were careful and slow. The carpet, like overgrown grass, was so thick she could hardly move. But she did because the voice compelled her.

At last she came to the front of a white door trimmed with golden edging. A measure of peace was restored to her although, at this point, she no longer knew where she was.

With little effort the door opened and Shay walked into a room filled with extraordinary light. There she stood, a little confused and disoriented. Both hands now raised to protect her squinting eyes. She thought she saw a man. “Is someone there?”

Stay tuned . . .

Faith Without Works

What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.
(James 2:14-17 (NIV).

Thanks to my sponsors (and all sponsors) for being faithful to this call. Don't forget there is still a lot of time to Sponsor Me. I am blogging for Feed the Children.

Forever thanks.

Encouragement

"Finally, brothers (and sisters) whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things." (Philippians 4;8 NIV)

Who Sped Up The Clock

Didn't I just post? My word, golly gosh. Here's a question for um . . . anyone? Is it cheaper to fly to Seattle or drive? It'll be the three of us.


Three days of rock 'n roll, camping out, extreme motor cyclists and Fear Factor. I'm tired already.

A Still Small Voice Continues

(A little bit of peace is restored but . . . let's read on)


Shuffling through the kitchen door she found dinner dishes screaming with an unclean vengeance. The floor begged for a mopping. Who’s to know? The tiles are fading anyhow. Nonetheless, she picked up the mop and began to clean. The small of her back tensed up and she wondered if all those perfect wives with their wonderful husbands and well-behaved children were cleaning house at nine in the evening.

When the clock struck midnight she granted herself much needed sleep. But sleep evaded her as all the worries of her future, and those of her sons’, loomed heavy on her heart. The emotions flowed with silent tears and flooded her complete being. If only she could escape. She knew, of course, there was none.

Then, in the darkness of the early morning, a voice whispered.

“Shay.”

Was she hearing things?

“Shay.”

Her curiosity grew stronger than her fear, though fear she had. She had lost that feeling of safety ever since her husband left and found it necessary to sleep with a night light. Nonetheless, Shay followed the voice through the hallway. Something was different. This is not my hallway—much too dark. She groped around for the light switch, but couldn’t find it.

“Focus.” She spoke out loud and struggled forward.

Unsuccessfully, Shay tried to adjust to the darkness. She stretched out her arms. Suddenly her home seemed unfamiliar terrain. But before she could turn back the whisper came again.

“Shay, return to me.”

“Who are you?” she said though it was quite conceivable she knew who it was. Never mind, she thought. Don’t answer that.

To be continued still . . .

Plant or Weed

This was kind of a fun post of the past. What was it? I had my hopes this thing would blossom into a beautiful weeping willow or sprout into a jasmine tree or something. Well...no matter. Someone ripped it from the ground, root and all. Awww, I was so hoping it was the ugly duckling of all plants.

Just A Reminder

Hundreds of bloggers have set aside these 24 hours to blog for numerous amounts of worthwhile charities. Click on the banner above and check out the Charity of my choise--Feed the Children. Thanks and I hope you will still Sponsor Me!

A Still Small Voice Installment

(We left Shay collapsed on her sofa thinking of a song written by her X-husband.) . . .


She switched the off button on and thought candidly of her life. For the last fifteen years, her career sacrificed for her family, she had been a stay-at-home mom. Now she was desperate to find a job. But the working world had passed her by. Her qualifications simply did not meet the requirements anywhere. Shay O’Neal, single mom, longed to escape after a day filled with rejections.

She heard her sons argue. “Ask next time!”

"I’m home!" she hollered. Should she try to stop them now before it came to the usual full-blown battle, or let them work things out? Even the effort of having to make that decision added to her exhaustion.

Her sons’ angry words blurred in and out of earshot. “You never ask me! You take whatever you want!”

She decided to let it go. No point in a defenseless person entering the battlefield. The old sofa held her frailty for a few more minutes. The fighting continued.

Glancing around the living room Shay realized her early morning attempt at cleaning had failed. She leaned back, pulled her knees to her chin and embraced them with her tired arms.

By eight o’clock her children had worked out their differences, as best they could. Each found sanctuary in their respective rooms with their own choice of music. Both of which was noise to her ears. She drifted for another hour and thought, another day, almost over.

To be continued . . .

Potty Break

Well, I don't think anyone's here. But I am in dire need of a bathroom break. There, I said it quite eloquintly, don't you think. Eeeeeckkk.

An Essay of Feelings For the Single Mom

Writing is what I do, so I'm going back to story telling. Here's the first part of . . .

A Still Small Voice

Shay O’Neal plunged herself into her worn-out, yet, comfortable sofa. The warm California sun eased its way out of another day. It was D-day for her—the first day after the divorce was final. She was alone, or so it seemed. Was she the only one who had failed so miserably at a marriage, not to mention the embarrassing attempts to win him back? And the questions that now haunted her were setting her up for another defeat.

Can I raise two teenage sons alone? Will they let me? What will we eat? Where will we live? Will I be alone forever? Who would want me now, anyway? One of the songs her husband wrote played over and over in her mind. A voice she didn’t want to remember.

I’ve given all that I can give
Now I’m down on my knees . . .
Hello sadness, I see we meet again.
Hello madness, my old friend.

To be continued . . .

Now We're Ranting

It has come to this, for now. I have nothing in my brain. Recuperation will resume in 30 minutes, I hope.

The Aussie Way

Did you know, at least when I lived there, that your freshman year of high school started in the 8th grade?

We lived in Nashville (that’s Nashville in Qld., Australia) with my cousins. That was close to the funnest childhood memories I have. I learned to eat Corn Flakes with warm milk and sugar, Fish and Chips with Mayo and Chico Rolls. We picked the best mangoes and climbed macadamia nut trees.

Australian beaches are awesome as we soon found out. Unfortunately, the movie, Jaws, stopped me from going into the crystal blue water for quite a while.

Not Fun Memories: Cousin, Saskia, almost dying from a puffer fish bite. Having to learn English in 3 days. Learning to walk on bare feet. Never finding my own corral on the Great Barrier Reef.

Sports We Played: Figaro, Netball, Softball, Cricket, Rugby. They play so many more now.

The Family Moves:
From Nashville to Brighton
From Brighton to Ascot
From Ascot to Albion
From Albion to Strathpine
From Spitfire Ave in Strathpine to Bells Pocket Rd, Strathpine.

From Strathpine to the United States. How many times has your family moved?

Almost to Queensland

The Maasdam stopped just short of the Western Australian coastline. There was no port so we anchored out in the middle of the Indian Ocean (or is that the Pacific?). Finally we circled around the bottom of the continent, then back up to Sydney.

Rugby League

It's such an Aussie game. No helmet, no nothing. I lived in Australia for twelve years and didn't make it to one game. Watched it on the tele though.


And little brother got to play. He got big and strong. Okay, I'm a little tired and running out of thingies to put on blog.

We're goin' on our 9th hour of blogging/posting. It's still fun. But I might need some Tums.

Australian

Pikelets

1 C. self-rising flour
3 Tbsp. sugar
pinch of salt
1 egg
1/4 tsp. bi-carb soda
2 tsp. melted butter
*1/2 C. soured milk

Sift dry ingredients into a bowl. Mix to a smooth batter with beaten egg, milk, and butter. Heat and grease a fry pan; drop heaped tabelspoon of batter onto pan. Cook until bubbly on top and light brown underneath. Turn and cook other side. Serve cold with butter or jam and whipped cream.

*To make sour milk (yuck btw), add one teaspoon of vinegar or lemon juice to 1/2 cop of fresh milk.

A One and a Half Month Tour

There once was a ship called the Maasdam. It had two pools and a couple of kiddie pools, a theather...and that's all I remember.

Brother and I had fun running around on deck. We took in our first movie, Yogi and Boo Boo. Boo Boo got lost and made little brother cry.

There was always food. Food everywhere, in the lobbies, on the decks inside the eating halls. I was eight and couldn't gain an ounce. Patries with cream filling, fresh fruit, ice-cream from Italy. It was pretty feasty.

Then came trouble. What is it with this family? Yep, we had to journey when the middle East was at war and the Suez Canal was closed. Thus, we had to travel around the Cape of Good Hope. Fancy name for "We hope you make it around the horn here." Big waves. Big waves. BIG WAVES!!!!! Tie-down-chairs waves. Empty-the-pools big waves. Ship was rocking. Life jackets were on.

We made it to South Africa and spent a lovely afternoon shopping in Capetown. Then onward we went through the storm to the largest continent/island of the world--Australia.

But . . . Before Australia

I left out some minor details about my life in Holland. Not that anybody is really interested, but I forgot to mention it's where my little brother was born--the mighty Joshua, named after that military general in the old testament.

Did I say mighty? Okay, baby brother was sickly. Bronchitus from the day he was born. I don't think he ever saw the light of a Dutch day. A little exaggeration, I know, but he stayed inside most of his young life.

Eventually Mr. Doctor guy said take the little man to a warmer country. So off we trudged to the land down under. Little brother breathed easier and was healed the minute we got walked off that ship. Oh yeah, we travelled by ship. Now there's a juicy story. And since I've got more than twelve hours to go...there's a post for another time.

Life in Holland

So there we were in The Netherlands. We lived with family before we moved to our own flat. Over the years Mom endured a lot of prejudice, which she sheltered me from because I don’t remember. All I know is we called them Cheese Heads. Wonder what they called us.

I love Dutch scenery—the flatlands, windmills, little creeks and stone-paved streets. The tulips are everywhere, daffodils are really golden and the purple crocuses are my favorite. Holland really is a fairy tale land.

Now the summers, as I remember, were very long. The sun didn't go down till around 10:00pm. Always a treat for kids.

Then there was that time in the dead of winter when I decided to take the shortcut to school. Over the frozen pond I went, till...crack, crack, wham and down I sank into a massive darkness. Probably would not be blogging right now if it weren't for a stranger who pulled me out.

I was two years old when we came to this cold country, by the time we left for Australia, I was celebrating my eigth birthday.

It's a Little Noisy in Here

Wow!! We have all gathered in the kitchen. Mom is cooking Indo food--resolles (pancakes stuffed with meat and vegetables). Pack on the mustard. Yummmm. Dad is talking really loud over the Disney Channell. Layne is shooting off his BB gun in the living room which is an extension of the kitchen. And I'm trying to find the remote so I can watch the Angels/Red Sox game. aaaaaahhh.

Good Neighbor Recipe

1 tongue that does not slander
1 heart generous and kind
1 mind ful of tolerance
2 hands extended to help others
2 ears closed to gossip
1 dash of wit, sunny disposition
2 eyes overlooking other's faults

and cheerfulness

Blend together all ingredients. Form into being: serve generous portions to everyone you meet, daily.

Arleta Richardson from Grandma's Attic Cookbook

Blogging For Charity

Blogathon 2006 is going on right now. I'm posting every 30 minutes with over 300 other bloggers to raise money for our fave charities.

For a list of bloggers go to Blogathon.org . If you would like to Sponsor Me! just click on this link. Thanks.

Try This: Munchies for the day

Lemon Papaya

1 large papaya
4 tbsp. sugar
1 lemon


Cut papaya into bite-size pieces. Squeeze lemon over papaya pieces. Sprinkle with sugar. Mix gently and chill for 1 hour.

Quick, easy and goooood.

My Life Continued

It came to pass that Indonesia had a healthy desire for the land known as Papua New Guinea. Apparently, the fact that we were there did not deter their plans for invasion. The island belonged to The Netherlands who decided that war was not a good idea. Well, that’s all fine and dandy for them but what would become of us?

My parents had already survived a Japanese POW camp and were also imprisoned by the Indonesian rebel army. Stood to reason they would not hang out in our cozy jungle for much longer.

Land and house were sold for tickets to The Netherlands—paradise gone. The three of us boarded a small plane and hightailed to Bangkok where we were put in a nice hotel, sort of.

“Mamma, frogs.”

“Oh no, Sweetie, those are just big, fat, poisonous toads! Close the door.”

I don’t remember that conversation but those green jumpy things were all over the road, and inside the hotel. I didn’t want to hear the rest. From Bangkok they flew us to Karachi, Pakistan where we spent a span of twenty two hours. That’s a story for another day.

Eventually we arrived at Schiphol in Amsterdam, Holland. From the equator to 20 degrees below zero—that had to hurt.

Mom and Dad

My mommy and daddy when they were just dating in New Guinea. Mom is wearing a Helaene (that would be her) original. She was a great designer and still is. She's 17 in this picture.

My Life in Twenty Four Hours

My birth is a little fuzzy to me. As I suppose yours is to you. What I’ve been told is quite a tale, in my mind, at least.

I was born on the island of New Guinea in 1959. The story goes that there was a mid-wife involved and the local medicine man. Would that be a witch doctor? That might scare me some. Though proof of this remains to be seen.

Mom and Dad built me a nice little shack with walls of tin and old refrigerator doors. With the jungle as our backdrop, and the ocean a few forest blocks away, life looked pretty good. Can you say coconut and banana trees? Ah, the life.

My dog Tonto, named after the Lone Ranger’s sidekick because he had a circle over each eye, was born on the same day. He was my protector. But all was not well. The island was filled with ghosts of WWII and one more war was coming.

What Saturday Morning Should Look Like

Well, he said he would stay up with me from 6 to 6. Ahum. Good try there.

He's my movie star and drummer boy.

Bad Girls of the Bible

My goal this morning is to finish reading Bad Girls of the Bible by Liz Curtis Higgs. I think I might do a review some other time. But I will say that "Lizzie" is hilarious, fun, creative and very wise. Absolutely loved it.

Breakfast?

Something Exotic

Here's a recipe from my mom's cookbook Come and Dine. We just called it . . .

Exotic Tropical Fruit Drink

1 Tbsp. sugar palm fruit
1/4 inch of rose stroop
1 Tbsp. yellow or green Ai Yu jelly
6 oz. of water
1 Tbsp. jack fruit
Crushed ice

Pour rose stroop in tall glass. Add crushed ice, then add the sugar palm fruit, the jelly, and then the jack fruit. Fill glass with water.

Blogger Time?

What's up with the time here? Last post was posted exactly at 7:30am. Blogger time says 7:15. I'm confused.

Letter To A Nephew

Nephew, being a man is 100% founded in the heart.
Your heart will decide for you what does and does not have value.
Your heart will decide if and when you will risk.
Your heart will stand you up on your feet, or if needed, bring you to your knees.
But the heart needs to be taught, fed, and conditioned for quality.

Some of these things you can teach and pass on but it is up to the receiver (you) to willfully reach out and take a hold of. Let them mold you, Nephew, if you are able to recognize value in them.

Here's the whole story from "Letters From Michigan."

Dimple Bumbleroot Must Continue

If you could trek on over to Novel Me, add a sentence to The Battle of Dimple Bumbleroot if you please. My creativity has been stifled by the heat.

Summer Plans

Go to FreedomFest 2006 in Seattle this August with my son and nephew. Help out any way we can. Finish editing my novel. Send query letter to agent blah blah blah!

Ready, Set, Blog

Dawn has broken and here we are!!! For lack of anything to blog about so early in the morning, I thought of writing down a list of famous people I have bumped into over the years.

Richard Hatch (the original Apollo in Battlestar Gallactica)
Bobby Sweet--at a friend's wedding
Michael Sweet--recording studio recording my X's band
Nikki Sixx--Troubador (I think)
Gunner & Matthew Nelson--at a friend's funeral (she was young, beautiful, expecting a child, engaged to Bobby Rock and tragically knived down in front of the ATM. Rest in peace Sherry.)
Eric Karros--charity golf tournament
Shawn Green--Dodger Stadium (my friend baked him some cookies)
Oliver Hudson--Paramount Studios (he's very cute)
Michael W. Smith-church (he was leading worship)
Jesus--Thank God, have you?

Arrgh?

Finished filling out application for Africa Mission Team. Listed one of my strengths: I don't stress out so easily.

So it stands to reason I would lose my ATM card this morning. Apparently the bank has closed all my accounts. My dog is pregnant! Sarah's car is leaking gas...again. Layne is leaving Sunday with his dad (we both forgot). Summer school is still not done for him and we can't print out a project that's due tomorrow at 9am. It's 95 degrees inside the house.

Ah, said the wise, be anxious for nothing. It'll all work out, right? No problem. If I could just get rid of these leg cramps and why are my toes curling?

I'm okay, breathe. This is good. Build character. What is that scripture?

A Nice Cool Place

I thought if I publish some nature eye candy here you wouldn't mind if I kept reminding you of the Blog-A-Thon this Saturday.

You can still sponsor any of us even after the Blog-A-Thon is over.

Visit Feed the Children's website to see why I think they are worthy of your pledges. I hope you will agree and Sponsor Me!

The artist, btw, is my ex-hubby. I give credit where credit is due. This was one of his earlier paintings when he first started out.

Thanks for your visit and please consider Sponsoring Me! so we can feed and clothe the children--here in the US and abroad.

Kenya, Heat and Sad Faces

I cannot deny it any longer...it's hot!! Desert nights in Southern Cal is a burn. No more on that.

When we left our air-conditioned motel room this morning at 8:45 it was probably already close to 90 degrees F. Walking into church today was a cool and welcome relief from the heat. Even though the sermon was about lamenting (Psalm 88) it made me happy.

I got to hug my friend who's lamenting over the loss of her son (scroll down to post titled Precious Thy Death). She's strong though and will make it through...again. My only prayer is that I didn't say anything stupid. I only meant to hold her.

There were others who cried today but it is not for me to tell, only to pray that they don't wind up on the 11:00 o'clock news. Lord protect them.

And last but not least is the question: Is a mission trip to Kenya on my agenda? I still don't know. However, the meeting today with the mission team from Empowering Lives International put my mind at ease more than it scared me away, if that makes sense. The next couple of weeks will tell if I'm chosen, only eight can go. More than that showed up for the initial meeting.

I want to make a difference in this world. Let's see how far that statement will take me. And on that note don't forget about the blog-a-thon this Saturday, July 29th. There's only a week left and I really would like to reach my goal of $500 for Feed the Children. Remember you will receive a free copy of our cookbook Come and Dine if you can pledge $25 or more. Many many thanks to my sponsors thus far. You can click on this link to Sponsor Me!

I said I wouldn't...but it's sooooo HOT!! How hot is it in your part of the world?

Eight Days Till Blog-A-Thon 2006

The 29th of July is only 8 days away. Blogging for 24 hours straight is beginning to be a reality and, not to mention, it still sounds like fun and always worthwhile. A gentle reminder: I am blogging for one of my favorite charities Feed the Children. Please check out their website if you would like to see exactly what it is they do. Remember, they not only help children in places such as Kenya but they feed the poor here in the USA as well. They were there for the victims of Katrina and other tragic events. So please, if you can,Sponsor Me! for this amazing organization.

I will take donations starting from $1.00 but if you can make a pledge for $25 or more I will send you a FREE copy of our cookbook, Come and Dine. Recipes (some are family secrets) are from Indonesia, Holland, Australia and US. Here's a sample:

This-Is-Salad? Salad

6 to 8 baby spinach
1 small to 1/2 regular red onion, thinly sliced, then halved
10 to 15 cherry tomatoes
1 oz. honey roasted sliced almonds
6 oz. Yoplait fat free very vanilla yogurt
4 oz. Yoplait fat free very cherry yogurt
2 snack-size boxes of "Golden and Cherries" by Sun Maid

Put all ingredients, except yogurt, into a large bowl and toss. Mix very vanilla, and very cherry yogurt together in a small bowl. Wait to add to salad until time to serve. When time to serve, add yogurt and toss well. Keep everything well chilled.

Enjoy

Precious Thy Death (a thought while hiking on a Tahoe morning)

In the midst of a dense forest, near the sprays of a magnificent waterfall, there stood a tree. Death had come to this tree a long time ago. That was obvious. Nonetheless, its color was astounding, a polished silver. Hardly a trace of its original brown could be seen, no protective bark...just dead wood. Wood that had weathered many hard winters, heavy snowfall and the forces of erosion.

However, firmly embedded into the rocks of the cold river's banks, it brought to mind those matters of life...and death.

Are we not, for the most part engaged in life and things living? Indeed, most of our relationships are with those we can give to and gain from. Nevertheless, just as that tree was a very fixed and very permanent part of the landscape, even so are those who have died and gone before us to glory a very fixed and permanent part of our lives.

They could stand to teach us many things; do not get too hung up on the things of this world. This world, after all, is not our final goal or destination so to speak.

Are they, our loved ones who have gone before us, still very present in our thoughts? Do they still influence our lives even though they cease to be a viable part of our every-days? There is much we do not know or understand about death...God says, "Precious to me is the death of my beloved." If we listen, we will learn from those who no longer speak.

By Patricia Lentz with a little edit here and there from Debby A.

Whacked-Out Wednesday

Oh snap, I meant to post yesterday but it was such a brutal day I cried instead. No details to give up, it was just...bad!

However, since I got a chance to lock myself in my room away from the big bad world, I actually got to self-edit chapter 6 of my manuscript. A small accomplishment but an accomplishment nonetheless.

Evenso, I wanted to (yesterday) thank my wonderful friends for making a pledge towards my blogathon efforts. Thank you. I am not done as the desired goal of $500, for Feed the Children, has not been reached. Please be sweeter still to all who drop by here and think about whether you can Sponsor Me! or maybe you could Sponsor Me! Go ahead, think about it and Sponsor Me! Ah, my sincere thanks.

Noted emails I received today:
1. Feed the Children Special Projects
2. Liz Curtis Higgs (how sweet is that?)
3. Blog Explosion with the word "accepted" because "denied" is always so depressing.

"How good it is to sing praises to our God, how pleasant and fitting to praise Him."
(Psalm 147:1)

I always have a good day when I remember to do this.

Toxic Tuesday

Okay, this post has nothing to do with the title. Just wanted a catchy T-heading. Nonetheless, the fun news is that I finally started reading "Bad Girls of the Bible," by Liz Curtis Higgs. I heard her speak at Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference and thought I would die laughing.

As soon as I finish this book I will write up a review here. If you've read "Bad Girls of the Bible" or any of her books, would you leave a comment. Thanks.


And, btw, risking redundancy, please remember the blog-a-thon and I would appreciate a pledge here and there. Be kind and Sponsor Me! I'm blogging for Feed the Children.

For Tuesday

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast." (Psalm 139:9,10)

Just a thought as I listen for an answer. To go or not to go.

Muggy Monday

Not much to write about. It's really muggy after a full night of thunder, lightning and rain. Hopefully that will take care of all the wild fires. Hard to know since the news about the Middle East has taken over our Sattelite Dish. If people would read their Bibles, none of this would come as a surprise.

However, let's speak of good things for now. I would like to put up a reminder about the blog-a-thon happening on the 29th of July. I'll be blogging for Feed The Children. July 28th, will be a day of shopping for coffee and other goodies that can make the night interesting. Please be so sweet and Sponsor Me! to help raise $500 for the children of Kenya, USA and other countries. Thanks.

I, The Purpose Driven Nobody

I thought about the charity, Feed the Children, I'm blogging 24 hours straight for, and the children who need not only food and water but a lot of love. This last week I watched as they found children living in dumps, cold caves and on the roof of a public bathroom. I wondered if I could ever take it a step further and physically be there in places like Kenya.

I remember, when I was pregnant with my daughter I once (or maybe twice) baked a couple of hundred cookies and, with a bunch of friends, went downtown LA and gave them to the homeless. Doesn't sound like much, does it?

And, I've only been to Africa once with my family on a ship called the Maasdam. Actually it was South Africa, Capetown, I believe. From the video (35mm, I think) it appears we were very lucky to survive the Cape of Good Hope.

All this to say that I come from a family of missionaries and pastors who are serving the homeless and the hungry orphans in places like Indonesia, Thailand, USA and other places. Of course, my generation decided to skip it. My daughter on the other hand went on three different mission trips before age 16. Now it seems it might be calling me after all. Kenya?

I don't know. Maybe. My church is now putting a team of 8 people together for a Kenya-bound mission in January of 2007. For me, only God knows. I'll be seeking, hopefully listening and hearing for His answer. It's something worth blogging about. Please read the previous post, if you would be so kind, and sponsor me for the blog-a-thon on the 29th of July.

Blogathon for Feed the Children

My goal on July 29th, is of course to stay awake for 24 hours and post a blog every 30 minutes. I would like to raise $500 for Oklahoma based ministry Feed the Children.

We have done the best we can for our children. Provided the basics: food, water and shelter. What if you couldn't provide these, and on top of that you are about to die and there is no one to take care of your babies?

This is not only happening in places such as Kenya or Indonesia but right here in the United States. Please sponsor my efforts on July 29th and help reach my goal of $500. Sponsor Me!Sponsor Me!Sponsor Me!

Dimple Bumbleroot Continues

Okay, so how cool is this? We have another little installment of D. Bumbleroot at Novel Me from Paul. We'll have a novel soon so come and put in your word or two. Thanks Paul.

What Is It?

Arwin and Shamee keep eating our plants. They are trying to unearth every tree we plant and they are building something near the air conditioning thingys. And then there's this thing. It keeps growing and growing. We don't feed it and it gets very little water. Does anyone know? Whatever it is, we will not call it a weed.

The Battle For Dimple Bumbleroot

So this is the gist of it. I'm Oh so curious to see if this will work. No matter though, I'll probably wind up having fun with it. The story starts in the little town of Dimple Bumbleroot. You know...flowers, marshmallow clouds, cobblestone streets etc. Everything is wonderful...or is it? Of course not. Would you like to give us the next paragraph? Novel Me has the first 500 words. You're welcome to edit and change.

Brain On Go!

Have you ever been so tired but your brain won't leave you alone? I'm there. There's a gatrillion stories running loose in here. I should read a calming Psalm or . . . I can write down a few thoughts.

I'm going to start The Battle of Dimple Bumbleroot, a children's story about spiritual warfare. Maybe some creative mom bloggers could come and add their own paragraph, or a sentence here and there. What is that called? Well, I'll try tomorrow with the 500 words I have already. We can only hope.

CBA On The Air

Sharon came home just a half an hour ago and called me. She was making dinner for her hubby. What a Proverbs 31 woman, ahum. As she was cutting up some vegetables (I think that's what I heard snappin' in the background) she talked a little about the fun she had at CBA. She was interviewed for one television show and one radio show, I believe. It's late. Needless to say, but...way to go, my friend.

Don't forget to pick up a copy of her book. Every woman deserves to Live a Milk and Honey Life, don't you think? She also has a retreat coming up soon, by the same name in Boulder AZ. Aaaaah, a retreat.

AUTHORIZE ME Writing Seminar

AUTHORIZE ME

This is a 12 hour seminar taught by author, editor, and speaker Sharon Norris Elliott. You will come away with your book completely planned out.

Check out her book, Living the Milk and Honey Life.

3-Day Christian Concert Event

If you are anywhere near Snohomish Washington in August run to this Festival. Three day event on the Stocker Farms. Check here for a line up of bands. August 18-20. Bring your friends.

Boring Me

Well, it's official--I'm boring. I'm not an angry person, nor a sad one, I'm not lonely, I don't hate the government and I read and write as all good bloggers do. I rather enjoy being boring. Today I wrote 500 words for a children's story called, The Battle for Dimple Bumbleroot. Just 500 more words, or maybe a 1000, and I can send it off to my writers group so they can mark it up with a gazillion red marks.

Since my son is with his dad, I've had a chance to just write and blog and read. If it wasn't for actually having to get out of the house to go to church I would officially have been inside the house for 8 straight days. But wait, I had to feed the dogs.

I do miss, Layne, my son. He forgot his cell phone at a friend's house. Summer school is not over and it's troubling me a little. I homeschool so I packed the books and brought it to him after church on Sunday. I also snuck his Bible in between his text books. Wonder how that's going?

I also miss my daughter who's off to college/university. She's a Biola girl and calls her mom every day...almost every day to talk about the world according to Sarah. Aaaah, she's free.

Oh, btw, did I mention we had an earthquake on Sunday? Nothing like being alone when a 3.8 hits. I yelped and it was over in 2.1 seconds.

Again, sorry I can't blog about Brother Bush and Iraq (I think he's doing a good job) or how I disagree that soccer will unite the world and that the all-star game should never decide homefield advantage.

Peace will never come to the middle east, they're not interested. Father Abraham is not only the father of Isaac but also Ishmael. Hmmm.

Well...I think I'll venture outside and try to photgraph the hawks that are circling my little dogs.

Thailand

A well-deserved rest before reaching out to the kids of young prostitutes in Chang Mai.

Sarah J. Photo Journal

Performing for the orphans in Mexico

The Warriors

“You come late to this gathering, Paladin,” Raynor says. He touches a fresh wound on Paladin’s face. “A battle delayed your arrival?” Paladin nods and remembers the hours in the old forest before joining his fellow Warriors.



(To read more go to Novel Me)

A Scripture For Today

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." (John 14:27)

For Me She Came

This night is warm. A cool, gentle breeze wafts through the open windows. I know it’s night because darkness covers the house. Everyone is sleeping. I thank God for the peace that has settled in my heart. I walk by Oma’s empty room and close the old wooden door which Dad had forgotten to paint. Paint chips fall quietly to the floor slats. She’s dead, I thought, she’ll miss my thirteenth birthday tomorrow. I want to cry but someone whispers, “It is well with her.”

I walk through the hallway and notice that daylight has crept in all around me. It is still night, however. Nobody stirs.

There is a knock on the door. Who could this be? I calmly walk down the flight of stairs and head to the front door. Another knock ensues before I could open the bronzed handle—a little louder this time. Slowly I open the heavy, orange door. The smell of jasmine softly intrudes inside. I smile.

“Oma?”

She nods. Suddenly, my serenity turns to happy chaos. In my confusion I slam the door shut.

“Mamma! Papa!” I yell and scream. It is a happy commotion. I yell some more. The stairs don’t seem to touch my feet. I’m flying, I think. No one wakes. My younger brother, Joshua, rolls over in his sleep. Not a sound. “Wake up! Oma is at the front door!”

I can’t wait for them, I won’t. Frantically I run down to meet her. A look of horror slaps on my face. You closed the door on her, Deborah, that’s just great.

“Oma, I’m sorry,” I say as the creaking hinges begin their haunting song. The door opens. She’s gone.

Tirelessly, I journey back up the stairs and make my way to the weather-beaten back door. It stands ajar and I stroll through—somewhat hesitantly.

I am greeted by heavenly breezes. Strands of my hair playfully stroke my face. Sounds of rushing water cascading down from a waterfall rumbles nearby. My eyes gaze upon her. One last time I call out her name. She is climbing up cloudy steps. The sky opens and there He waits for her. For my sake, she turns to face me. Her countenance is peaceful, her smile is joyous. No more sickness, no more cancer. She is young, vibrant and beautiful. No words were necessary. Oma takes the Hand of God and He whisks her away.

“Goodbye, Oma,” I say and finally the tears that eluded me since her death, two weeks ago, flood my very soul.