tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24859005277642295382024-02-06T22:16:09.108-06:00jenny's jottingsan aspiring writer's quest to becoming a published authorJenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.comBlogger137125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-49920920071006070892021-01-05T09:52:00.000-06:002021-01-05T09:52:00.601-06:00Word for 2021 - Recalibration<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <span style="font-size: 12pt; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I was asked to give the devotional in our teacher in-service meetings this week, I planned to talk about true, biblical self-care (which is not the same as just taking a bubble bath and eating a piece of chocolate. But, more on that another time). As I went through the rest of my day, however, I sensed that that was not what God wanted me to share. Instead, every time I checked Facebook, posts asking me to choose a word for the year kept popping up. It seemed like all of my friends were doing them. Now, I originally had no thought or interest in participating. But whenever I’d see the posts, the same word kept coming to mind: recalibration. Out of curiosity, I decided to look up the definition. According to Merriam Webster, it means “to calibrate (something) again”. Following up, I checked the definition of calibrate, which means “to standardize (something) by determining the deviation from a standard so as to ascertain the proper correction factors; to measure precisely (against a standard)”. This stopped me in my tracks, but the quote accompanying the definition simply gave me chills: “these systems gradually drift off course so that the navigator periodically needs a fresh point of reference to recalibrate the navigation system”. (Nando Pelusi)</span></span></p><span id="docs-internal-guid-1e68729b-7fff-11a2-668e-7d7bde0fc6aa"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I realized that I had allowed myself to drift in my spiritual walk with the Lord, and had gotten away from the Standard. Has that ever happened to you? Where you get so busy in your day-to-day life that time in the Word, time in prayer, just gets shoved to the side? It doesn’t start intentionally, of course. I don’t know many Christians who say, “Reading the Bible and praying isn’t important or isn’t a necessary part of my life.” What happens, after all, if we married couples quit spending time with our spouses? What would happen if we went days….weeks….months….years without actively seeking them out? The marriage would die, of course. All good relationships, including marriage, must be nurtured in order for them to thrive and deepen. Including our personal relationship with Jesus.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Last year was stressful, no doubt. But now, at the start of a new year, maybe we all need a little recalibration to set us back on the path we should be following. In my life, there are a couple areas where I need to make an adjustment back to my Standard. Most importantly, I need to spend time in daily prayer and Bible study. To that end, I’ve purchased a new 365 devotional and have set aside some time each day to pray and study God’s Word. And two, I need to recalibrate my health. Being overweight and out of shape is not God’s best for me -- particularly in the midst of a pandemic where those who are the most unhealthy are the most at risk serious, long-term, even deadly health issues. I’m back on my eating plan, currently undergoing a 10 day sugar detox that will help recalibrate my body to where it needs to be to begin efficiently burning fat. I’ve also committed to walking what amounts to a mile a day to build up strength and endurance.</span></span></p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">What areas need recalibration in your life? What steps are you going to take to make it happen? If you’re not sure, ask God to reveal to you areas where you’ve gotten away from the Standard, and what you can do to get back to where you need to be.</span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-89b9dea3-7fff-a72c-3c9d-46e656dc37e7"><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">(In doing an online search for Scripture verses relating to this issue, I found an article written by a pastor that sums up exactly everything I wanted to say. You can find the article here: https://www.pastorcare.org/single-post/2017/09/08/do-you-need-to-re-calibrate)</span></span></span></span></p><div><span style="font-family: Merriweather, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div></span>Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-12424026934879059032019-03-06T20:40:00.001-06:002019-03-06T20:40:12.940-06:00Adultery...More Than Just Sexual in NatureI've been reading a great book that details a husband's infidelity, what brings it about, and how the couple overcomes it (because, although I haven't finished reading, I'm assuming they do actually work past it). For those curious, it's called "Devotion", by Marianne Evans.<br /><br />Out of curiosity, this afternoon I read some of her reviews for the book on Amazon. And was stunned at the comments made by some of those who'd left the lowest ratings. They believed that the wife had completely overreacted to her husband's infidelity. After all, he didn't actually have sex with the other woman, "merely" kissed her. They scoffed at her desolation and couldn't believe she drug things out as long as she did. One woman even commented that she'd certainly be mad if her husband ever kissed another woman, but she certainly wouldn't take it to the extreme degree the wife in the novel did.<br /><br />As if it's really only infidelity -- adultery -- if sex takes place.<br />
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What a misguided idea--one that is contrary to Scripture.<br />
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Jesus is extremely clear about this. Matthew 5:27-28 states "'You have heard that it was said, "Do not commit adultery." But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart.'"<br />
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In "Devotion", Ms Evans makes it clear that from the first time the husband meets the other woman, their relationship is made up a series of choices that slowly turn his head and heart away from his wife, and away from Truth. To see an attractive person and recognize they are attractive isn't necessary evil. Where it starts to turn into a slippery slope is when a second look is given. A conscious thought is made.<br />
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In the book, the two characters spend time together, getting to know each other outside of a professional relationship. An emotional connection is made.<br />
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Even if there is absolutely no physical contact, once that emotional connection has been made, it becomes infidelity. Even if there is never so much as a kiss.<br />
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As a Christian married woman, my heart belongs first to my Savior, and then to my husband. It's a given that my physical demonstrations of the love I feel for him belong only to him. But that emotional connection we share also only belongs solely to him. For me to bestow it upon another man is a slap in the face to him, to our marriage vows, and to God's Truth.<br />
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Given all of this, it is completely understandable why the wife is devastated. Shattered. Broken. Her beloved husband has betrayed her trust. That feeling of betrayal doesn't go away overnight. With counseling, and through the grace of forgiveness, it <b>can</b> be overcome. I've seen it happen in other marriages that have suffered through spousal infidelity yet become even stronger afterward.<br />
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For us to pretend that infidelity only occurs through sex is potentially damaging. Why? Marriages take <b>work</b>. Especially marriages of long standing. There's talk of marriages becoming comfortable. And while that can be a good thing, I want to warn you not to let comfort turn into complacency, where we take our spouses for granted, or worse, treat them like one of our children.<br />
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Keep Christ the center of your marriage. Then, work to keep the flame alive between you and your spouse. No, it doesn't mean things necessarily have to be like your newlywed days. But a spouse that feels cherished, desired, and that they can emotionally connect with their husband or wife is not one apt to fall to temptation when someone comes along offering these things.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-62215348461386777672019-01-28T11:56:00.003-06:002019-01-28T11:58:13.481-06:00Book Review for "Brunch at Bittersweet Cafe" (Saturday Night Supper Club) by Carla LaureanoThis is the second in Ms Laureano's Supper Club series. As much as I loved the first book, this one was even better. For one thing, I'm not so much a foodie as one who thoroughly enjoys baked goods and pastries. So reading about Melody's passion for baking (especially her intense love of quality bread) was sufficient to whet my appetite on more than one occasion.<br />
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At the opening of the book, Melody finds herself stuck in an unappetizing rut, both in her personal life and professionally. She dreams of owning her own little patisserie, preferably where she can create her favorite breads and French-inspired desserts and pastries. But when she's unexpectedly handed the opportunity to finally bring her dream into reality, will she take it? What happens when she's forced to choose between two loves?<br />
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As always, Ms Laureano does an excellent job at character building--so much so that I almost fancied myself a part of the little family of friends. I loved the chance to catch up with the main characters from the first novel, while getting to know Melody and Justin. The amount of research that clearly went into this book was extensive, and it was clear the author did her homework. The romance was sweet, but no overly so, with enough spice to satisfy without being inappropriate (the day-trip date has to be the most romantic idea for a date I've heard in a long time). I especially appreciate that the Christians portrayed in the book are not perfect by any means, as none of us are. They make mistakes, as we all do. Yet, they don't remain stuck where they are, but continue learning and growing in their walk with Christ throughout the book.<br />
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I would whole-heartedly recommend this entire series to anyone, and can't wait to learn more about Ana in the next installment.<br />
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I received a free copy of the book ahead of time in exchange for an honest review. All opinions and thoughts are my own.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-41246518947585784912015-09-14T14:11:00.002-05:002015-09-14T14:13:14.556-05:00The Christian Response to Refugees and ImmigrantsWithin our nation and around the world, a debate is raging about immigrants, and whether they should be invited or allowed into countries across Europe---even here. This issue isn't a new one to our country, it's been one we've been debating for years. While I certainly have my views in regard to this debate, the question is, what should our response as Christians be? The fact is, there are many refugees fleeing dangerous situations in their home countries around the world, both near and far. As a result of their very real fears and hopes for a better life, they are entering these countries both legally and illegally. One of the fears of many is that terrorists or drug cartels are getting in with the refugees, lost in a sea of humanity. Is this fear a just and valid one? Absolutely. However, due to their evil natures, they will find a way in regardless.<br />
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But in our fervor to keep these kinds of individuals out, we’re only hurting the ones who really, <i><b>desperately</b></i> need to enter the country for their own safety. Or for the safety of their children. For what parent wouldn't do just about anything to ensure the safety of their children? A Mexican-American pastor friend of Troy's, Alberto, recently discovered just how far two parents were willing to go for their son's safety.<br />
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On a trip with his son to the park to play soccer, pastor Alberto struck up a conversation with a talkative young boy as he watched from the sideline. After chatting about many things, the young boy suddenly said, "I need to talk to my mom!" then proceeded to get his dad’s phone from his belongings. As he was doing so, Alberto replied to the boy, "You’ll see your mom soon. Why don't you watch your dad as he plays so that when you get home, you can tell you mom about how well he played." That started the following conversation:<br />
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"But my mom isn't at home." <br />
"Where is she?” asked Alberto, thinking that she was perhaps at the store or running some errands. <br />
"She is in Honduras." <br />
"Honduras?! Why are you here and not with your mom?" <br />
"Because she called my dad and told him he had to come and get me. She told him I was in danger because I am a boy."<br />
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Troy’s friend then asked this little guy how he’d made it to the US. The boy shared with him of their journey which included crossing through the desert in order to make it back. When he finished detailing their journey, he looked at Alberto and said, "I will never forget going through the desert as long as a live." Shocked by the candor of this young boy, the fact that he knew his life was in danger just because he was a boy, and the story he told of making their way through the desert, he asked, "How old are you?" To which the young boy replied, "I'm 4."<br />
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In order to truly understand why this mother was so terrified for her son’s safety, we need only read the Honduras Travel Warning, posted by our government online. The following is taken directly from the report:<br />
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<i>“Crime and violence are serious problems throughout the country. The Government of Honduras lacks sufficient resources to properly investigate and prosecute cases, and police often lack vehicles or fuel to respond to calls for assistance. The police may take hours to arrive at the scene of a violent crime or may not respond at all. Members of the Honduran National Police have been arrested, tried, and convicted for criminal activities. Many more are under investigation. As a result, criminals operate with a high degree of impunity throughout Honduras.... Honduras has had one of the highest murder rates in the world for the last five years.”</i> (1)<br />
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And this snippet from an article from truth-out.org: <br />
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<i>"Honduras is one of the most violent nations in the world. The situation in the country’s second largest city, San Pedro Sula, demonstrates the depth of the problem. For the fourth year running, San Pedro Sula has been one of the most dangerous places on the planet outside of a war zone. Its murder rate in 2014 was an astonishing 171 per 100,000. The city, which is caught in the crossfire between vicious criminal gangs, has been the largest source of the 18,000 Honduran children who have fled to the United States in recent years.... The vast majority of killings in Honduras are carried out with impunity. For example, 97 percent of the murders in San Pedro Sula go unsolved."</i> (2)<br />
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We need to understand that the overwhelming majority of the people coming into our country illegally are not doing it to thumb their noses at our legal system. They’re not here with the express purpose of stealing our jobs and collecting as much welfare as they can. And while I understand the concern about the drain on our economy, let me gently point out that taking care of them, helping them, is not the government’s job. I believe Jesus would have this be the role of the church.<br />
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Nowhere in the Bible does it state we are only to take care of those of our own nationality. Let’s consider Luke 10:29-37. In this passage, Jesus told a parable about an Israelite man who was journeying from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the road, he was robbed, beaten, and left for dead. Two men -- his own <b>countrymen</b>, two <i><b>religious leaders</b></i>! -- passed him by and did nothing to help him. One man stopped to help him. He put him on his own donkey, took him to an inn, tended to him, then paid the inn keeper for his care, all without expecting anything in return. Who was this man? This “good Samaritan”? A literal Samaritan, considered the dogs of society by the Israelites. To the rest of the Jewish nation, this man was a mere peasant in the social structure. Yet he was the one, not the man’s own countrymen, who offered aid.<br />
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God’s message is clear: we are to help those in need. Regardless of who they are. Many are concerned about the president’s consideration to offer aid to the Syrian refugees. Is there the possibility we open a door to terrorists and drug lords when we open our doors in welcome? Yes. As I said before, however, they will find a way in regardless. And as Christians, are we really prepared to stand before God on judgment day and say, “I’m sorry we didn’t help the needy. We were afraid of what might happen,” when asked, “Why didn’t you feed My sheep? Why didn’t you clothe My children? Why didn’t you care for My lost?” I don’t know about you, but that’s one conversation I don’t want to have with God.<br />
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2 Timothy 1:7 says, "For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." (ESV) Friends, we know where fear comes from. And of course the enemy doesn't want us being the hands and feet of Jesus. He doesn't want anyone to come to Christ! His design is to paralyze us with fear, preventing us from acting.<br />
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Perhaps it’s time we in the church stop pointing fingers of responsibility and boldly ask God what He would have us do. How He would have us care for these lost children, trusting Him that His perfect will shall be carried out.<br />
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(Links - (1) http://travel.state.gov/content/passports/english/alertswarnings/honduras-travel-warning.html; (2) http://www.truth-out.org/opinion/item/29431-can-the-violence-in-honduras-be-stopped)Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-84849439635212966632015-08-21T22:26:00.004-05:002015-08-21T22:26:58.875-05:00Responding to Broken MarriagesIn light of the further fall of Josh Duggar this week, many have asked what his wife, Anna, is going to do. Will she leave him or will she stay? Many of the sites I've seen and the comments made have urged her to take her kids and leave him. Regardless of the committment they made to each other when they married that divorce was not an option. Many of the individuals, upon hearing of her plans to remain and work through the gaping wound his infidelity (and other sexual sins) has rendered upon their marriage, have openly scorned her choice.<br />
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<b>Even fellow Christians.</b><br />
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"The Bible gives clear recourse for divorce if a spouse is sexually unfaithful," they say. While it is one of the Biblical reasons for divorce, I think it's dangerous for us to urge other Christians to take this step. I would never encourage a fellow brother or sister in Christ to consider divorce unless their lives -- or their children's lives -- were in real danger, as in the case of abuse.<br />
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Anything else can be healed. <i>Anything</i>.<br />
<br />I'm not saying that a marriage broken through infidelity will ever be what it was. Once something has been broken, it is never the same again. But we discount God's healing grace if we believe He can't restore shattered lives. Because by encouraging our fellow Christians to divorce cheating spouses, that's exactly what we're saying. That there's nothing God can do to save the people, save the marriage, save the family.<br />
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There are many marriages that have been touched by infidelity. Marriages that, with God's grace and marital counseling, develop into a relationship that is even better, even stronger than it was before the unfaithfulness. There may have been people encouraging those women to leave their husbands, as many are doing to Anna. The biggest difference between them, however, is that she is living this heartbreak, this nightmare in front of an entire country of people waiting to cast judgment upon her, her marriage, and her family. Some say they deserve it for putting themselves in the limelight. Friends, nobody deserves that.<br />
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Our response to Anna Duggar and other women like her should be one of love. We should pray for them. Pray for the unfaithful spouse's repentance. Pray for the broken family to be restored. Pray for healing for all. Instead of ridiculing her for her commitment to her husband, or encouraging her to leave him behind, let's affirm her decision to try and repair the marriage, praying and believing with her that all things are possible in Christ Jesus.<br />
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Including the restoration of a broken marriage.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-26642370822562817982015-03-20T15:09:00.003-05:002015-03-20T15:09:54.394-05:00Christian Fic Friday - March 20Welcome to this week's edition of Christian Fiction Friday, a blog hop of current works in progress by Christian indie authors.<br />
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This week's snippet features a conversation between Izobel and her friends Justin and Emma Bennet (you can read their story in <i>The Reunion</i>) about Izzy's seemingly deceased love--and Justin's twin brother--Matt.<br />
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As always, be sure to check out the other blogs in the blog hop.<br />
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"><a href="http://smarturl.it/wippet" style="color: #6cb83a !important; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Links active once published">****Christian Fiction Friday</a> is
a weekly blog hop where authors post short (400-word or less) snippets
from their current works in progress. It is hosted by <a href="http://www.alanaterry.com/blog" style="color: #6cb83a !important; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Links active once published">Alana Terry</a> and <a href="http://www.hallee.bridgemanfamily.com/" style="color: #6cb83a !important; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Links active once published">Hallee Bridgeman</a>.</span>***** <br />
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During a conversational lull, Izobel decided to share what had been preoccupying her thoughts the last few days. “I dreamed about Matt the other night. In my dream, he showed up at the door during the adoption celebration. He looked so different, none of us recognized him until he spoke.”<br /><br />
Justin’s expression instantly sobered. “I’m sorry, Iz.”<br /><br />
She shrugged a dainty shoulder. “For a long time, I kept hoping and praying that he’d be found and come home to us. After all, ‘missing in action, presumed killed in action’ leaves that door open, does it not?”<br /><br />
He nodded. “We all shared that hope. But if he was going to be found alive, surely it would’ve been long before now, don’t you think?”<br /><br />
“I know,” she agreed, wrapping her hands around her mug in reflection. After several minutes, she returned it to the coffee table and raised glistening eyes to theirs. “It’s just hard to let go of the dream.”<br /><br />
“So much has changed in the last six years,” Justin mused aloud. “I mean, think about it. If he really is out there somewhere and by some miracle returns to us, he’ll have to come to terms with the fact that dad’s gone and he didn’t get to say goodbye.” <br />
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“Nor was he there to see his brother marry,” Emma added quietly. “Not that it’s as big a deal as losing your dad.”<br /><br />
He squeezed her knee affectionately. “No, but it’s no little thing, either.”<br /><br />
“You’re right, though. Six years and there’s been no word? Doesn’t seem very likely he’s still out there. In fact, I’d say it’s an impossible dream at this point. <i>Mamá</i> has been pushing me to move on. She thinks the reason I haven’t been dating is because of the business I’ve been trying to launch. But if she knew the truth, she’d drive all the way here from El Paso and kill me.”<br /><br />
Justin nodded his head with a smirk. “Yes, I believe she would.”<br /><br />
She took one final sip of her hot chocolate before rising from her chair. It was time to make the long drive back to her condo on the outskirts of Denver and leave these two newlyweds alone for the evening. “It feels good to talk about him, at any rate. Thanks, guys.”Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-24332462602230852062015-03-13T20:33:00.001-05:002015-03-13T20:33:33.089-05:00Christian Fiction Friday - Mar 13It's that time of week once again. Sorry I missed last week -- we met up with some friends we hadn't seen in over 2 1/2 years. Then, by the time we got back, it was too late to blog. Hope you enjoy today's snippet from my work in progress, 'The Return'. It continues where the last one left off. As always, be sure to check back next week for more.<br />
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<i><span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"><a href="http://smarturl.it/wippet" style="color: #6cb83a !important; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Links active once published">****Christian Fiction Friday</a> is
a weekly blog hop where authors post short (400-word or less) snippets
from their current works in progress. It is hosted by <a href="http://www.alanaterry.com/blog" style="color: #6cb83a !important; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Links active once published">Alana Terry</a> and <a href="http://www.hallee.bridgemanfamily.com/" style="color: #6cb83a !important; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank" title="Links active once published">Hallee Bridgeman</a>.******</span></i><br />
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Despair filled her heart. Why couldn’t she get past this? It had been six years already! Surely by now she should’ve been able to move on with someone else.<br />
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Iozbel was startled when gentle fingers began kneading her shoulders, soothing away some of the tension in her body. Then, catching the scent of Lynne Bennet’s favorite perfume, she smiled. Despite the fact that she’d never married into the family, Matt’s mother had continued to treat her like a favored daughter long after they’d all said goodbye to her son.<br />
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“Are you alright, Izzy, honey?” <br />
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“I’m fine, mama. It’s just a headache.”<br />
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“You need me to get you somethin’ for it?”<br />
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She shook her head. “I sent Noah for my bag a few minutes ago.”<br />
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The kneading ceased as Lynne leaned down into her peripheral vision. “He seems awfully clingy tonight. Is there anything you want to tell me?”<br />
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A deep sigh from Izobel restarted the shoulder massage. “I know this has been hard for you, honey. But I actually really like Noah. He’s been a good friend to you, he’s a hard worker, and I know he earnestly loves the Lord. Plus, I’m not gonna lie. The boy is eye candy, pure and simple.”<br />
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She choked back a laugh. “<i>Mama</i>!”<br />
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“What? I’m not sayin’ anything any other female with eyes isn’t already thinkin’.”<br />
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“But what if he <i>hears</i> you?” she asked, completely mortified at the thought. <i>Good grief.</i><br />
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“So what if he does? It might just give him the gumption he needs to follow through on what any fool with a brain can see he wants to do.”<br />
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“And if I don’t want to go out with him? What then?”<br />
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Once more, the massage stopped. This time, Lynne stepped around the chair and sat in the spot Noah had recently vacated. Instead of the teasing expression Izobel expected to see, she looked deadly serious. “I’m gonna ask you a question I should’ve asked a long time ago. Have you prayed about this, honey? <i>Really</i> prayed? Because as much as I’d wish it otherwise, my baby isn’t comin’ home. It’s time for you to let him go." Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-24292881428332658952015-02-27T13:57:00.002-06:002015-02-27T13:57:28.734-06:00Christian Fiction Friday - February 27, 2015<span></span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">**Christian Fiction Friday is
a weekly blog hop where authors post short (400-word or less) snippets
from their current works in progress. It is hosted by Alana Terry and Hallee Bridgeman.**</span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">The past two weeks, I've been sharing snatches of the book I'm currently working on, a sequel to my published book <i>The Reunion</i>, called 'The Return'. Be sure to check back next week for more!</span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;">(Today's snippet is a continuation of the conversation between Izobel and her videographer friend, Noah, who is obviously interested in becoming more than a friend and colleague, found in the post from February 13.)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> Izobel gripped her fork in frustration. Her relationship with Matt and her inability to move on after his death was a topic she did <i>not</i> want to talk about. Especially with someone interested in her. But how to express that without being flat out rude? Of course, if anyone was being rude, it was him, pursuing so personal a topic she clearly didn’t want to discuss. “Neither of us called off the wedding. He was killed in the line of duty before we could get married.”<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> Regret pinched Noah's features. “Ah, I see. I’m sorry I asked, Izobel. I didn’t know.”<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> At the dismay clearly written across his face, her expression softened. “I know you didn’t. It’s okay---it was a long time ago.”<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> She could tell by the look on his face what his next question would be. <i>Please don’t ask it. Let it go.</i><br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> “So why have you never married? You’re a beautiful woman. Surely there’ve been others in your life since your fiancé died.”<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> This time, she didn’t hold back the sigh. The throbbing behind her eyes became more persistent, and she rubbed the corners of her temples in an attempt to ease the pain. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> And to avoid answering the question.<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> “Can I get you something for that headache?” Noah asked, concern deepening his voice.<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> “I’ve got some ibuprofen in my bag. Can you please bring it to me? I think I left it the foyer.”<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> “Sure thing. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back.”<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> She smiled, grateful to be alone. With any luck, he’d forget the question he’d asked and leave her alone for the rest of the night. That was the one thing everyone asked her the most often. And it was the one question she honestly had no answer for. Of course there had been other men in her life after Matt’s death. She enjoyed meeting new people, and casual dating provided a unique opportunity to do so. And it wasn’t as if she didn’t <i>want</i> to settle down and get married. She’d always dreamed of being a wife and mother. But every time she imagined herself falling in love with a person, panic filled her heart and she couldn’t continue the relationship. It wasn’t anything against the men she dated. They’d all been charming, wonderful men--not worthy of someone as unable to commit as she was. As wonderful as they’d been, however, they’d still fallen short.<br /> </span></div>
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<span style="color: #515151; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19.5px;"> They weren’t Matt.</span></div>
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Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-7315695026309807882015-02-20T14:48:00.002-06:002015-02-20T14:48:32.616-06:00WIP Friday - February 20It's that day of the week again -- time for another snippet from my work-in-progress, 'The Return'. Be sure to check out other indie authors' WIPs at the following website: http://www.alanaterry.com/blog/christian-fiction-friday-youth-group-van1.<br />
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Enjoy, and be sure to check back next Friday for more! <br />
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<br />
There was no telling what would set them off. The slamming of a door. A car backfiring. The sound of gun shots. Even fireworks. But the flashbacks were always the same. And they were so horrifyingly real. The sounds, smells, sights--all of it--were so clear. So realistic that, when they passed, he was always shocked to discover he wasn’t still there. <br /> In his own personal hell, where he’d been trapped for the last six years. <br /> He was aware that nobody else could see, hear, or smell the same things he did, and that made it all the more difficult to be around people. As a result, he’d long since given up the idea of returning to a normal life. <br /> This time, the trigger had been something new. Someone in the motel room above him had dropped something heavy on the floor. Instantly, he’d been transported back to the days leading up to The Event. He’d been a soldier for a long time and he’d seen a lot of carnage and death in that amount of time. But nothing like that week from hell.<br /> With nothing but sheer force of will, he tore his mind from the darkness of those memories and back to the present. The breathing exercises he’d learned long ago helped calm his racing heart. As did one other thing.<br /> There were gaping holes in his memory. Some things he could see in vidid detail in his mind’s eye. Others were only clear in the flashbacks. But all of his recent memories contained more holes than a slice of swiss cheese. <br /> All of his memories, save one.<br /> The memories of her face.<br />Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-10259355984891766072015-02-13T20:11:00.002-06:002015-02-13T20:12:24.831-06:00A Sneak Peek at my Work-in-Progress (WIP)Each Friday, the Christian indie author group I belong to encourages us to share snippets of our works in progress. My WIP is a sequel of my published novel, <i>The Reunion</i>, and will be called 'The Return'.<br />
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Here's a little sample:<br />
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Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her videographer colleague, Noah Roberts, headed her way with two plates of food. Dread filled her heart. Uh-oh--she knew that look. Over the last couple weeks, he’d hinted that he’d like their working relationship to become something more personal. He was a nice guy, even what other women would consider handsome. But she just wasn’t interested. She’d managed to turn aside each subtle hint he’d thrown her way---so far. Who knew, however, when he’d strike up the nerve to ask her out? And what she dreaded more than anything was that their working relationship would be ruined when she turned him down. Because she <i>would</i> turn him down.<br />
He handed her one of the plates of food he carried and sat down on the couch across from her, making her happy that she’d chosen to sit in the chair and not on the couch. “Thank you, Noah. That was very sweet of you,” she added, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.<br />
“You’re welcome, Izobel. You looked a little tired, so I thought I’d spare you the wait in line.”<br />
She frowned, disappointed in his obvious intent to stay and strike up a conversation with her. A dull ache was beginning to form behind her eyes and she’d almost reached her noise limit for one day. All she wanted at the moment was to sit quietly and enjoy the delicious food that Emma had catered in for the party.<br />
“So, how do you know the Bennets?” he asked around a mouthful of food.<br />
Izobel stifled a sigh. Clearly, he wasn’t going anywhere. “I was engaged to Justin’s twin brother.”<br />
His eyes shot to her finger, then back to hers. “Since I already knew you are single, and you happened to mention that you <i>were</i> engaged to be married, who called off the wedding? I know it’s none of my business, but c’mon--you can’t leave a guy hanging after a statement like that.”<br />
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That's it for now! Be sure to check back periodically for more. In the mean time, you can meet Izobel and some of her friends in <i>The Reunion</i>, available in paperback and for the Kindle.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-28808957730188527912015-02-12T15:55:00.002-06:002015-02-13T06:48:42.539-06:00The Most Passionate Love Story Ever ToldOnce again, we are mere days away from Valentine's Day--that time of year when much of our focus is on that "mushy love stuff". There are constant advertisements for diamonds, chocolates, and flowers, all things guaranteed to make a woman swoon. Love is in the air at this time of year.<br />
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This year is no different....except for one thing. This year, the talk is not about the romantic holiday we're about to celebrate, but about one particular movie that is premiering in theaters. And it's not a movie one might expect at Valentine's Day.<br />
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Sure, there is a love story....of sorts....between the characters. But the selfish, domineering, controlling "love" shown the female lead by the male lead is anything but real love. While it may delight some women, it brings sheer horror to my heart.<br />
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Why?<br />
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Because I know of the most passionate love story that's ever been told. What's more, I'm the <i>recipient</i> of this love.<br />
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No, I'm not talking about the love between my husband and me, although that is a beautiful image of this other love, as is the love I have for my four children. It is a love that is patient. A love that is kind. A love that is not proud, nor envious. A love that keeps no record of wrongs, nor does it seek its own way. (Check out 1 Corinthians 13 for the remainder of that description.)<br />
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You see, the love depicted in many movies, books, songs, television, etc, like that in <i>50 Shades of Grey</i>, is a perversion of this other love I've experienced. It is almost always selfish, impatient to have its own way, cruel, boastful, jealous, and tends to keep track of wrongs committed. It is the polar opposite of the love that was first shown to us.<br />
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The first love shown to us by God and His Son, Jesus Christ.<br />
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God the Father loves us, His creation. He desires a relationship with us. But we were sinful and selfish, choosing our own way because we thought we knew better. Romans 5:8 tells us that "God demonstrates His own love for us in this: While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." <i>While we were yet sinners.</i> <b>Obstinate</b> in our desire to have our own way. Even still, Jesus left the glory of Heaven and came to earth to die and forever bridge the relationship between God and man. We also know from John 3:16, "For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life."<br />
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That, my friends, is a passionate love. Especially when we consider the cost of Jesus' sacrifice for us on the cross. Every year on Good Friday, we like to watch <i>The Passion</i> as a visual reminder of Christ's suffering for us. Only the purest, most passionate love would inspire someone to willingly face suffering like that for our sake. <br />
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The best part? If you had been the only person ever to sin, He would have done it all for <u><b>you</b></u>. <i><b>You</b></i>! Take a minute and substitute your name and personal pronouns into the above verses.<br />
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<i>"God demonstrates His own love for [<b>Jenny</b>] in this: While <b>I</b> was still a sinner, Christ died for <b>me</b>."</i><br />
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<i>"For God so loved [<b>Jenny</b>] that He gave His only Son, that if <b>I</b> believe in Him, <b>I</b> shall not perish, but have everlasting life."</i><br />
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No one will ever love me the way He does. Not even my husband. This love is what drives me to be a better person. A better mother. A better wife. A better friend. It drives me to write stories that open people's eyes to this love they themselves can have. Most importantly, I am compelled to share this love story with others on the mission field.<br />
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And it's why I'm aghast and confused as to the extreme popularity of a love story that is only a perversion of the love I know.<br />
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My prayer for you this Valentine's Day is that you will not spend money to witness a perverted love. Instead, I pray you will open your Bible and discover for yourself more about the most passionate love story that's ever been told.<br />
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It's found all throughout the Bible, but particularly in the book of John.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-20726184186222585642014-12-31T11:25:00.000-06:002014-12-31T11:25:46.920-06:00Goodbye, 2014....Hello, 2015Hard to believe it, but today is the last day of 2014. And what a year it's been! So many amazing lessons and experiences. Some have been extremely difficult, like learning to rely completely on God's provision for our finances month to month. Some, like the cultural stress I experienced earlier in the Spring, have been painful. Some, like the publication of my first novel, have been utterly satisfying. There is precious little I would change about this year.<br />
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Now, however, it's time to look toward the next year. Of course, our fervent prayer is that God will perform a miracle with regard to our funding and we'll be able to return to Mexico for our second term in July. That's a big goal. But we serve a BIG God!<br />
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Personally speaking, this year to come is a big one for me. It is the year in which I will turn 40 years old. 40! While it doesn't conjure the terror for me that it inspires in others approaching this decade mark, it is a tad more daunting than turning 30. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it's because I don't actually <i>feel </i>like someone about to turn 40. Don't feel anywhere near mature enough for this age. At any rate, I have several goals in mind. Taking a page from my sister, I want to own 40. To do so, I want to meet the following goals by the end of the year:<br />
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(1) Regular, consistent, daily devotions.<br />
(2) Exercising 45 minutes a day 4 x a week, and another 15 minutes 2 x a week<br />
(3) Drinking at least 80 oz of water every day.<br />
(4) 60 minutes of Spanish study 5 x a week, incorporating Spanish into my devotions 2 x a week.<br />
(5) Reaching, and maintaining, a healthy weight. Sadly, I have gained back everything I previously lost (booo!). So, I have broken this last goal into a few mini goals - I want to be down 25 lbs by March 31, down 50 lbs by July 1, down 75 lbs by September 30, and at my goal weight by December 31.<br />
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If I can manage to reach all 5 of these goals, I will be able to say I "owned" 40.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-30838186684184812042014-10-19T18:40:00.002-05:002014-10-19T18:42:43.217-05:00'The Return' prologue<div style="text-align: left;">
The prologue for my next novel, 'The Return'.</div>
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<b><u>Prologue</u></b><br />
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6 years ago</div>
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Justin Bennet sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.<br />
As he’d only just begun his general surgical residency, there was a mountain of work stacked in neat piles on his desk. Notes to read through from both his class work and his patients. Leisure time was a luxury he didn’t have right now.<br />
And yet he could not find the strength to stand. To get up from where he sat and do the things he knew needed to be done.<br />
Who could, when faced with the loss suddenly thrust upon him this week?<br />
Slowly, his eyes tracked to the paper lying atop the nightstand. He stared at it for several seconds before taking it up. The paper shook in his hands, crinkled from repeated readings. Greedily, his eyes flew over the words, soaking them into his heart once more, like rain on parched soil.<br />
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<i> Little Brother -<br /><br /> I’d hoped you’d never read this. The guys all write these goodbye letters to loved ones back home before their first mission, counting on them never being delivered. Counting on surviving long enough to hug their wives, children, girlfriends, or parents on their next leave. We all know, deep down, however, that there are times when the worst happens. Guys don’t make it home. Families must learn to live without their husbands, fathers, boyfriends, or sons.<br /> And now, I’m one of their numbers.<br /> I know this will be extremely difficult for everyone. You. Mom and dad. My darling, beautiful Izobel. Promise me that you’ll look out for her. With her family all scattered across the country, the only family she has nearby now is the three of you. Watch over her and help her with whatever she needs. I can’t help her now; I need you to do that for me, bro. You know I’m depending on you.</i><br />
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And then, the part of the letter that had clearly been recently added:<br />
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<i> I wish we could’ve had more time together while I was last on leave. There’s so much I’ve wanted to say to you, so much I’ve wanted to know. You’ve changed, Justin. You’re not the same carefree guy you used to be. What happened? Who hurt you? It was clear to me during our limited time together that you are just a shell of the man you were. I’m worried about you, little brother. Worried, and praying day and night that whatever has happened, you haven’t turned your back on the One who makes life worth living. I’m sorry we’ll never be able to talk about it, Justin. My prayer for you is, and will continue to be, that you find peace and joy once more.<br /> Take care of our parents, of Izobel. And please, Justin. Please take care of yourself. It has been my joy to be your older brother, even if only by a few minutes. I love you, bro.<br /><br /> Matt</i><br />
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He carefully returned the letter to the top of the night stand and lay back on his bed, his feet planted on the floor. While he regretted not having more time with his brother during his final leave last year, especially knowing what he now knew, the wounds were still too raw. Watching Matt and Izobel together, especially after he’d finally proposed, would’ve been more than his broken and aching heart could handle.<br />
And now this.<br />
Justin knew that Matt’s final wish was that he would find peace and joy in his life again. With each day, the hope of reclaiming those two things was growing dimmer and dimmer. First the betrayal by the woman he’d loved. Now, the death of his best friend. <br />
This letter showed that his brother was concerned he’d turn his back on God. But what Matt didn’t--wouldn’t--know was that he’d turned his back on God a long time before now.<br />
For the first time since he’d received that horrible phone call, he was actually relieved. Relieved that his brother--the one whose faith had always been strong and an encouragement to everyone around him--would never see how far from God his little brother had wandered.<br />
Stuffing the pain even deeper inside, Justin opened the bottom drawer on the night stand, sliding the letter into it, then shoved it closed. There was work to do, after all, and he didn’t have time for grief.<br />
After all, what good would it do? Nothing would bring his brother back to them.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-24774354375445116022014-09-21T15:01:00.001-05:002014-09-21T15:01:24.427-05:00Still Longing for Home - Part 2It's been a couple days since my last post, and I feel like God's been speaking to me about it.<br />
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A missionary friend of mine shared this with me on Facebook: <span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<i><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">You
are right, it is absolutely a legitimate and beautiful desire as a
wife and mother! When I feel very discouraged about it, I find that it
helps me to remember that this lifestyle constantly reminds me of my
longing for my heavenly home. If I lived in my own very comfortable home
here, I would be tempted to lose sight of that. So, when I long to
make my place a cozy nest, I remind myself that God has prepared a
forever place for us!</span></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">She could not know that her words mirrored what the Lord had been speaking to my heart at the same time.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">This morning, on the way to church, this issue was addressed again--this time, by the Christian radio DJ. She was talking about a book she'd recently read about the root of jealousy and discontent. When we look at others and are jealous about relationships, things, places, situations, etc. they have or are in, we are really saying to God that we are unhappy with the life He has blessed us with. We're really complaining to God that He hasn't given us what <i>we</i> want, instead of being thankful for the things <i>He</i> has blessed us with. The DJ said that this spirit of discontent is sinful and something that we need to give to God--daily if need be.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">I hadn't thought about it like that.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">Then, while I was still noodling what I'd heard, God gently suggested to me that perhaps this restlessness, this unfulfilled desire to make a home, is something He's allowed me to have. He knows me better than I do, so He knows that if I were to get comfortable here, I might have a hard time leaving. Comfort is a huge thing to me, and can be a blessing.....or a danger. If I get too comfortable, I tend to be less likely to immediately obey when He asks me to act. And I know that until God calls me Home to Heaven, He has placed me in Mexico City, not the U.S. I may be here for a time, but it's not to stay.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">So while my God-given desire to make a home for my family is a good and wonderful thing, it can easily become a stumbling block if I let it. It might not be that way for other missionary ladies. But God has been showing me that for me, it is.</span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0"><br /></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".u.1:3:1:$comment10152665947902180_10152666119147180:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">Therefore, the new way you can pray for me is that God will help me give this longing to Him each day and not let it distract me from the work He has for me today.</span></span></span>Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-11757297031784474152014-09-19T21:48:00.004-05:002014-09-19T21:52:46.666-05:00Still Longing for HomeTonight, I've been scrolling through the "home" page on Pinterest, admiring all the autumn pictures and pins on how to decorate your home for the season. And I love it. Really. Honestly, it's been over a decade since I really, truly experienced a traditional autumn season (autumn in the South is not the same as a Midwestern autumn. For one thing, except in rare places, you don't have the wide assortment of colorful leaves. Pine needles don't turn gorgeous shades of red or orange), and we are literally surrounded by a forest of trees atop the gentle slopes the missionary homes sit on. Autumn will be great this year.<br />
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So what's the problem? I mean, I can think of several of my missionary friends serving on foreign fields who are ready to temporary block my Facebook posts if I make one more mention of autumn or share one more picture of changing leaves.<br />
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Tonight, I miss having my own home. The funny thing about that statement is that we've <i>never</i> had our own home. We've rented or lived in parsonages for all sixteen years of our marriage. My biggest dream before receiving my missionary calling was to get married, buy a home, and raise our family in the same home. And because that is a dream I've had to give up, as not too many missionaries own their own homes, I've learned to enjoy making our rental homes truly ours.<br />
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The problem, of course, is that this is not our house. Not our furniture. Not my kitchen stuff. Not even my linens. And <i>certainly</i> none of my decorations (every autumn, before departing for language school and the field, I had an entire bin of decorations I loved to put out. And in Mexico, there is another bin of autumn decorations waiting for us when we get back). Just two months ago, I couldn't wait to get here and finally unpack after two months of living out of suitcases and traveling around. I was so thrilled to have a place to put everything! Yes, when I think about what we could be doing--living with family members or friends--I <i><u><span style="font-size: small;"><b>am</b></span></u></i> grateful for this home and the opportunity to be here as a family. To really be able to let our hair down at the end of the day.<br />
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Perhaps only another missionary wife will understand that this is not just a grown woman whining and throwing herself a pity party. I believe it stems from something deeper.<br />
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As missionaries, there are so many transitions we have to make. We pack everything up in our homes (or sell everything; I know many families who literally arrived in language school with what they could fit in their allotted baggage, having sold everything else before they left), say goodbye to our families, and settle in to language school (for those who learn language away from their fields, anyway). After we've completed language school, we pack everything up again, say goodbye to the friends we've made, and leave for our fields. At the end of our first four year term, we pack everything up, say goodbye to friends and teammates, and return to our passport countries for furlough--a process that involves many transitions as we travel to raise support, often taking a couple years. Then, we return to our fields after more packing and another round of goodbyes to start the process again. If the missionaries are blessed to be moving back into the same house, some of the transitions are easier. But if they must look for a new house with each new term...<br />
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We women are innate nesters. We have this inner desire to build a "nest" for our families. And when we can't do it because of circumstances outside of our control, we get antsy. Maybe even a little sad.<br />
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This is where I now am. It is not something I expected to feel when we came home from the field. Especially knowing we'd move into provided housing. I am, however, thankful for the cinnamon stick Yankee Candle I was able to get with my birthday money. And I'm thankful for the other autumn scented candles I'll bring back from my collection at mom's next month.<br />
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This is something else you can pray for when you pray for the missionaries you know and support. And if you have any friends who are missionary wives, just be patient with her when she unexpectedly gets the urge to redecorate your home when visiting. She probably can't help herself.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-67513058404303105662014-08-13T07:44:00.000-05:002014-08-13T07:44:01.659-05:00First PromotionI'm in the middle of the third day of the first promotion of my book. On top of that, I paid a small amount of money to advertise on a daily blog that features discounted and free Kindle books available. Thanks to both of those, today "The Reunion" sits at #58 (in the top 100) for its category for the Kindle and #61 for the book! Pretty amazing, if you ask me!<br />
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While it's great that people are buying the book, I'm more excited that a larger amount of people (people I likely wouldn't have reached on my own) are actually <i>reading</i> it. What a cool feeling! The ultimate goal is for a wider range of readers who will leave reviews (so far only 6), which hopefully leads to more sales of the book. I'm not doing this for income, obviously, but for the thrill of knowing my book is being <i>read</i>.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-50239380203518498162014-08-03T18:12:00.001-05:002014-08-03T18:30:00.828-05:00Coming "Home"?When we left Mexico almost two months ago, as much as I loved Mexico and knew I'd miss my friends there, I was excited to be going "home". We've spent the last two months traveling and visiting friends and family. The longer we're here, however, the more I realize that this really isn't "home" any more. I'm still excited to be here and look forward to seeing friends and meeting new people. But I've come to realize that "home" isn't really as cut and dry a concept as I used to believe.<br />
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Definitely, "home" is wherever my family is. Even the most temporary residence can feel like "home" as long as my family is with me.<br />
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We had people say to us when we arrived in Mississippi, "welcome <i>home</i>!" In the most technical sense, I guess this is the closest thing to "home" we've had since we first got married--it's certainly where we've spent the most time (at this point, ten out of our sixteen years of marriage were spent here). But even Mississippi doesn't feel like "home" anymore. Perhaps that's because we gave up our house and put all of our belongings in storage when we left for Costa Rica two years ago.<br />
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I can't tell you how many people said to me, "Just wait until you go back. It's not going to be the same. It won't feel like 'home' anymore." I listened but shrugged off this advice, reasoning to myself that, as it's only been two years, what could change? How could things be that different in such a short amount of time?<br />
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And for the most part, things are the same. Oh, there are new buildings and new people in the roles we left. And some folks have moved away.<br />
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The biggest difference is that <i>we</i> have changed.<br />
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I can't really say that Mexico is "home" yet. I'm not like two of my teammates who have served in Mexico for nearly two decades and feel very at home there.<br />
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I think that, as long as the States are "home" to me, I'll struggle with adapting to life in Mexico. Maybe this is not the case for everyone, but I think it is me. I'm not saying I can never feel at home here, but as long as I measure everything I do by how I used to do it in the States, I'll continue to struggle with culture stress on the field.<br />
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Last week, I realized that an important shift has taken place. In every place we visited, be it with our families, or at our headquarters in Indiana, or here in Mississippi, I kept waiting for that feeling of "home" to come. Sure, every place we visited (but Abilene--that's a new place for my in-laws since we left two years ago) was familiar. But not "home". Not anymore.<br />
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I was initially sad about this until I realized that it means I'm slowly letting go of my life here. The people will always be important to me and I'll always miss seeing them when we're away. But I also think this is a healthy--<i><b>necessary</b></i>--step for me to take in order to become the missionary God has called me to be.<br />
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And today, I'm grateful that God is helping to bring about this change in me. I look forward with great anticipation to returning to Mexico and really working hard to make the necessary steps to adapt to the culture.<br />
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Please pray that God will continue to keep me restless for "home" while we're in the States. We don't want to get too comfortable that we forget where our calling is. Thank you!Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-30621654862139338002014-06-29T17:16:00.002-05:002014-06-29T17:16:44.416-05:00An Inspiring Author's Dream Come TrueA dream I've had since I was ten years old was fulfilled this week. I am now a published author! Justin & Emma's story went live on Amazon (in both paper and Kindle form) this week.<br />
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It was very surreal to go to Amazon and, for the first time ever, know that there was an author listing for a book I've written. It's even more surreal to actually read that book on my Kindle! Let me just say, reading it on the computer as part of a draft is <i>not</i> the same.<br />
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In the short time it's been available, the interest and support of friends has been overwhelming. People I don't even know are sharing the Amazon links, and people I don't even know are actually buying <i>my</i> book!<br />
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Now that my baby is out there, the real work comes. I am so thankful for my new friends in the Christian Indie Authors group. They have a wealth of information and experience to share with newbies like me, and they've been incredibly supportive. I'm now working to develop a Goodreads author page and my own author Twitter account, just to aid in the marketing process. But I know I have a lot to learn in the coming months.<br />
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For now, I'm trying to do what I can in the evening hours, but I want to also enjoy our time with the family. More fun to come!Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-43301168546801849832014-06-15T20:38:00.000-05:002014-06-20T15:08:11.365-05:00Promotional Posters for "The Reunion"I created 22 teaser posters with content directly from the book. I also created several promotional posters that detail the imminent release of the book. These don't contain any content from the book:<br />
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Promotional Poster Number 1:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Fgot2Fg6tUKgYl0zEIaBn-43ofbhWXulyuSAJujZ-uzL8jVzwVOT4UTXrSP7T_WvjicQC9-dwAjxOYLZKA6mpvFjsWJi2uFvXFG5Oksk89zEF_-QiS1Y0oe4_5rNQzr8UUyaTfKv4os/s1600/teaser+number+twenty-three.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Fgot2Fg6tUKgYl0zEIaBn-43ofbhWXulyuSAJujZ-uzL8jVzwVOT4UTXrSP7T_WvjicQC9-dwAjxOYLZKA6mpvFjsWJi2uFvXFG5Oksk89zEF_-QiS1Y0oe4_5rNQzr8UUyaTfKv4os/s1600/teaser+number+twenty-three.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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Promotional Poster Number 2:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuN_XTu3hwnyby-rzRVjxaoWvPVbv6-LwLkYXmncqajTdYoPn_nBBbJh1fW-VGGDiWF9G_hOa__DOxczz0QsQl4N5LRWjEqx6m1q-qgHrg8n1ngNnxracFIrImLQUVvcbQs0P4cpISfMs/s1600/promotional+poster+number+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuN_XTu3hwnyby-rzRVjxaoWvPVbv6-LwLkYXmncqajTdYoPn_nBBbJh1fW-VGGDiWF9G_hOa__DOxczz0QsQl4N5LRWjEqx6m1q-qgHrg8n1ngNnxracFIrImLQUVvcbQs0P4cpISfMs/s1600/promotional+poster+number+2.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Promotional Poster Number 3:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3evRXr9sXx1NX-L6Ghv0MVJDoQSHldyomtLRPp74XHCDMd-9rjpa1UXzv1w4vx0ndi8xGZ2DqiZTcD09FL5qBxchIIVWMI-g5RQlFS5KuWvSSrgaQVXrHWjH1fORBOQ0UFikw1xzzrs/s1600/promotional+poster+number+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY3evRXr9sXx1NX-L6Ghv0MVJDoQSHldyomtLRPp74XHCDMd-9rjpa1UXzv1w4vx0ndi8xGZ2DqiZTcD09FL5qBxchIIVWMI-g5RQlFS5KuWvSSrgaQVXrHWjH1fORBOQ0UFikw1xzzrs/s1600/promotional+poster+number+3.jpg" height="216" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-6772286620140615202014-04-29T21:46:00.000-05:002014-04-29T21:46:00.838-05:00It BeginsI've said many times that I'm going to have to develop a much thicker skin if I want to be an author (which I do). I'm about as thin-skinned as a jellyfish right now. Must develop the thickness of a rhino if I want to avoid developing a critical spirit of my own when people decide they don't like my work. Yes, even before they've even read more than a few sentences. Haven't I, after all, read a few paragraphs of a story before and absolutely hated it? Haven't I been overly critical at times about other authors' writing styles....or lack of proper grammar? Yes, and yes.<br />
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There will be people who think my plot line trite and overdone. There will be people who think my book poorly written (although I hope not). There will be people--I can guarantee--who think my book too preachy, or complain about it being "Christian" (never mind the fact I plan to make it ABUNDANTLY clear what my book is and what it is <i>not</i>).<br />
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I think sometimes any excitement from friends or people who know me to read what I've written goes straight to my head, and I get "the big head". I try not to let this happen, of course, but it invariably does. So that makes it all the more difficult when there are those who have--already--expressed disdain. Before a word is even in print, and the only things actively representing my writing are this blog and the teaser posters I've made.<br />
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I need to remind myself that I am not a professional. I've never done this before. Any of it. Not the book. Not the publishing. Not the cover creation. And certainly not the teaser posters. A graphic artist I am not--unfortunately, artistic creativity in that sense has completely eluded me. And for crying out loud, a blog is at times nothing more than a glorified diary for grownups.<br />
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While I make every effort to find <i>something</i> positive to say in the reviews of even the books I dislike the most, I realize not everyone embraces this policy.<br />
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I will not wake up tomorrow with the skin of a rhino. This I know. I also know that it's a process. Just as I need to guard myself from getting "the big head" when I receive the positive reviews, I also need to guard myself from getting too critical or defensive when I don't. And maybe, just maybe, those negative reviews will have something to say that truly helps me in the long run.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-12025670400368624462014-04-12T13:49:00.000-05:002014-05-07T22:09:32.099-05:00Social Media PromotingI've created a Facebook page and a Pinterest board just for the promotion of 'The Reunion'. As of now, I'm shooting for a mid-June book release.<br />
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Anyway, a fellow author in a Christian authors' group gave me the idea of creating teaser posters to share on social media as a means of promoting the book prior to release. Great idea! So far, I've created eleven posters, two of which have gone "live". I'm going to do another one or two in the next couple days and then restrict them to once a week until the book release. Hopefully, it'll help generate interest.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-1381324134666461542014-04-12T13:44:00.004-05:002014-06-12T18:34:48.294-05:00Teaser PostersA friend in an online group for Christian writers gave me the idea to create "teaser posters" to promote the coming release of my book. Here are the posters:<br />
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Number One: <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LuPOXa1wHcRCbdBQOGH0H8T2IOMMS6ECWHBK9nkrJY-U8OVyPEzfdOGDV7DM4K5ulygRDIR_6NRp15oOnDN0JQWb6W1qmvHx3XXMVofVXIwyAdqcHRzCUKkXdGbT5fv374d2uH-p_uY/s1600/teaser+number+one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-LuPOXa1wHcRCbdBQOGH0H8T2IOMMS6ECWHBK9nkrJY-U8OVyPEzfdOGDV7DM4K5ulygRDIR_6NRp15oOnDN0JQWb6W1qmvHx3XXMVofVXIwyAdqcHRzCUKkXdGbT5fv374d2uH-p_uY/s1600/teaser+number+one.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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Number Two:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwC84ZslSUkFPUAcb6byIUmKVU3GN314KhSeKrN-HOkxj1dlcaU8upL2oCXPJv8EJcreZTzTp7e5faLn4yG9sEoEJkCiYeO9-_QPOPean3SKAs_E14pYaSFn9RwZ57_y18eY5ijOFBAb8/s1600/teaser+number+two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwC84ZslSUkFPUAcb6byIUmKVU3GN314KhSeKrN-HOkxj1dlcaU8upL2oCXPJv8EJcreZTzTp7e5faLn4yG9sEoEJkCiYeO9-_QPOPean3SKAs_E14pYaSFn9RwZ57_y18eY5ijOFBAb8/s1600/teaser+number+two.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Three:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCRaRfwTWHZrlPp-aQp3IcEfbJbqzVx9aa9Wnjh2yBDvm150FnQjl3AhOLzSRZzNNHtCUpM8huElrKOHQr4cgfD2Oszckm3cssAuk0YjyCDPPKPdYF4lHo3IBU7a25pgkbO0UKvy27q8/s1600/teaser+number+three.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsCRaRfwTWHZrlPp-aQp3IcEfbJbqzVx9aa9Wnjh2yBDvm150FnQjl3AhOLzSRZzNNHtCUpM8huElrKOHQr4cgfD2Oszckm3cssAuk0YjyCDPPKPdYF4lHo3IBU7a25pgkbO0UKvy27q8/s1600/teaser+number+three.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Four:<br />
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Number Five:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQN1oXQwxztHMWppSelIWw-nb4yfrZyz-zscGJ5XotQ3K_oWCFEGK-Pph0Qs9K58g8sAjjpjf19ZO8r3dUu73Y268uTcA7Av0i0G279N20Hp-AL3itJuJdxW8tqvVQyBmgNCvLGj4Qd0/s1600/teaser+number+five.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEQN1oXQwxztHMWppSelIWw-nb4yfrZyz-zscGJ5XotQ3K_oWCFEGK-Pph0Qs9K58g8sAjjpjf19ZO8r3dUu73Y268uTcA7Av0i0G279N20Hp-AL3itJuJdxW8tqvVQyBmgNCvLGj4Qd0/s1600/teaser+number+five.jpg" height="215" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Six:<br />
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Number Seven:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2KjtdN5rFhnFQxBYQ3JYjMdgeFWlCgVikFIf6wdsPtyVkfdv9SwGP0EcE7R9bh0Hx_iN6f74RVQCun96PWmqsPGyefRbaMRC_3MK0La_yk7F6Sb5SMMiUukrqHam5oeiq5S80NouG7M/s1600/teaser+number+seven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2KjtdN5rFhnFQxBYQ3JYjMdgeFWlCgVikFIf6wdsPtyVkfdv9SwGP0EcE7R9bh0Hx_iN6f74RVQCun96PWmqsPGyefRbaMRC_3MK0La_yk7F6Sb5SMMiUukrqHam5oeiq5S80NouG7M/s1600/teaser+number+seven.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Eight:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqyhZqJlKy6lgkJRNjtN19ZGG_Pd7VoNwm5ShAw0L5tkklQ9E3ZQGg8SQO3lZlZNLeIKJRWZw2RhRlk-DUgN1bJCeMHv3pYGeco86beVIFnjl7fQeOwwD3sxJ5pS78bRLy_NuQifJ1p0/s1600/teaser+number+eight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqyhZqJlKy6lgkJRNjtN19ZGG_Pd7VoNwm5ShAw0L5tkklQ9E3ZQGg8SQO3lZlZNLeIKJRWZw2RhRlk-DUgN1bJCeMHv3pYGeco86beVIFnjl7fQeOwwD3sxJ5pS78bRLy_NuQifJ1p0/s1600/teaser+number+eight.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Nine:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzznYK0rbsBO1mqqAONWMi-AR2EgqEKWm1fhx0aK1q_d2aEbBOsnxumJhHCyjJ1h9kk0-srQIeVtpbIOizPNwWl3r7fiWqR8doVxg1DHWaXtNThcj5VUI7HFMTnTnUCprpVIicCOuceok/s1600/teaser+number+nine.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzznYK0rbsBO1mqqAONWMi-AR2EgqEKWm1fhx0aK1q_d2aEbBOsnxumJhHCyjJ1h9kk0-srQIeVtpbIOizPNwWl3r7fiWqR8doVxg1DHWaXtNThcj5VUI7HFMTnTnUCprpVIicCOuceok/s1600/teaser+number+nine.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Number Ten:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNVb4eVOFvnnGtx-UWX0MgLiVmbjSZ2m4WvU9OWth2j_XUqqj0pmw44zhz_9rKgxbt2fAg_evfPMlWDA4UVCVixOtlZQhHJpCkRVFlNBGhkopjHOq9C-pRBRQpjPW1K6w6GGSbym3uLk/s1600/teaser+number+ten.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNVb4eVOFvnnGtx-UWX0MgLiVmbjSZ2m4WvU9OWth2j_XUqqj0pmw44zhz_9rKgxbt2fAg_evfPMlWDA4UVCVixOtlZQhHJpCkRVFlNBGhkopjHOq9C-pRBRQpjPW1K6w6GGSbym3uLk/s1600/teaser+number+ten.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Number Eleven:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIiZb0MbwB1gOCdcnm04MhbZj3veFHeSZPtDayUPkxkvxAazxnIGOa2Lhc8yo4MLKR8LTBUONA_xJHGgqlqmswS4CuMtkWmvPcYN4ayq4Hg4-CCiDd5zanr31WMzI9o7zGxn6VZbyZagM/s1600/teaser+number+eleven.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIiZb0MbwB1gOCdcnm04MhbZj3veFHeSZPtDayUPkxkvxAazxnIGOa2Lhc8yo4MLKR8LTBUONA_xJHGgqlqmswS4CuMtkWmvPcYN4ayq4Hg4-CCiDd5zanr31WMzI9o7zGxn6VZbyZagM/s1600/teaser+number+eleven.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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Number Twelve:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOTaEuGCgEyPejb-QE9z551YAOEzHdjmxlnH6o67keLd3-mEsVdSy045Ae68X6bKHEgO_baLizFFFd5a6fwpJuCqf4EzNa6UqVzWu34NzqU_UOWfkN725z4pG4aREZU-EqsH8caN6QEXM/s1600/teaser+number+twelve.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOTaEuGCgEyPejb-QE9z551YAOEzHdjmxlnH6o67keLd3-mEsVdSy045Ae68X6bKHEgO_baLizFFFd5a6fwpJuCqf4EzNa6UqVzWu34NzqU_UOWfkN725z4pG4aREZU-EqsH8caN6QEXM/s1600/teaser+number+twelve.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Thirteen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uEedgNUWnJF2UmXimiU0CKQuCOQBteDGvnQHHYVTyCX6NjL2Mwo7lwIL81uY22IsHDsC63rU5sYhMlIAyyWm9XSwMXPBCjalMIirtT351Gh0MO40AvSBDB0O6U2p5jMXpvtK2r8zx_Y/s1600/teaser+number+thirteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6uEedgNUWnJF2UmXimiU0CKQuCOQBteDGvnQHHYVTyCX6NjL2Mwo7lwIL81uY22IsHDsC63rU5sYhMlIAyyWm9XSwMXPBCjalMIirtT351Gh0MO40AvSBDB0O6U2p5jMXpvtK2r8zx_Y/s1600/teaser+number+thirteen.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Fourteen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn74MicXSwjZ44s8nqPCF18OC2X0blgXuw7SGPJ6loYeLMH2ZUtG7cu0ZJya7N0UY50UQA_V9TQL6s_z3pxADFToF3nj2LepxHKROsLG-wELZKiNNHZPJX8xJrHgDKQktyzHNENhzzLsY/s1600/teaser+number+fourteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn74MicXSwjZ44s8nqPCF18OC2X0blgXuw7SGPJ6loYeLMH2ZUtG7cu0ZJya7N0UY50UQA_V9TQL6s_z3pxADFToF3nj2LepxHKROsLG-wELZKiNNHZPJX8xJrHgDKQktyzHNENhzzLsY/s1600/teaser+number+fourteen.jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Fifteen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHxqq_ZN7E0PDWJ9iJHmNA_RbBMnmY7xH5Uz6DacnZXrsTO910tQSt2J-DFE7mVKl68tp839sWedXACEJzoLjaLieSyGJSwwH1_mkg1Z7Ph-dxWwwAlbLCwRWSCQpL22-cOI0ukzve60/s1600/teaser+number+fifteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNHxqq_ZN7E0PDWJ9iJHmNA_RbBMnmY7xH5Uz6DacnZXrsTO910tQSt2J-DFE7mVKl68tp839sWedXACEJzoLjaLieSyGJSwwH1_mkg1Z7Ph-dxWwwAlbLCwRWSCQpL22-cOI0ukzve60/s1600/teaser+number+fifteen.jpg" height="316" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Sixteen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzmMXD2LtG5C4sTjMR8sW9vlFTfp0CJY05claQ3zZFbtH2e8lxsPGZW6ov3JkOLu4xz9vHnEKrJ5c9aAaDWjD-grVJSmAQSr6hiudfphsf1G2vceqL4XKWHf5PAT5pYxixCfyLpnDGA8/s1600/teaser+number+sixteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqzmMXD2LtG5C4sTjMR8sW9vlFTfp0CJY05claQ3zZFbtH2e8lxsPGZW6ov3JkOLu4xz9vHnEKrJ5c9aAaDWjD-grVJSmAQSr6hiudfphsf1G2vceqL4XKWHf5PAT5pYxixCfyLpnDGA8/s1600/teaser+number+sixteen.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Seventeen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-iRvwyRzb-9Q8NPySUf2c4SPfxlz8ImJIVojat2I48qRf0uPZK-Jt_fXYjYeET6SGfKpuM-vRofXw5V0OF39U82k_n8A_Ux3HwWrE_oVeBuY7INVN08mgKADikxwHWkPV8aR5ZzQRlY/s1600/teaser+number+seventeen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB-iRvwyRzb-9Q8NPySUf2c4SPfxlz8ImJIVojat2I48qRf0uPZK-Jt_fXYjYeET6SGfKpuM-vRofXw5V0OF39U82k_n8A_Ux3HwWrE_oVeBuY7INVN08mgKADikxwHWkPV8aR5ZzQRlY/s1600/teaser+number+seventeen.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Eighteen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qFa99_RnpHZn8sUSHa-qZqxVsmbsQpgi8F6GcLTuMV502qt4xSKpBQRG3tr8KCeSbLcB-CVqe6kHBY1ideGvI8F_Wx0F3UhAbIDCqh3T7BppsUu5GnsOB3VKp9G-wIDXNXumglB3CMA/s1600/teaser+number+eighteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0qFa99_RnpHZn8sUSHa-qZqxVsmbsQpgi8F6GcLTuMV502qt4xSKpBQRG3tr8KCeSbLcB-CVqe6kHBY1ideGvI8F_Wx0F3UhAbIDCqh3T7BppsUu5GnsOB3VKp9G-wIDXNXumglB3CMA/s1600/teaser+number+eighteen.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Nineteen:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-MWEnvD0h0m9SfAVIb-Txv8YtZz66y91uYS3pBlUoOZGPuIbFse6RbkHd50j4Qj6b9N8SwqCxQdElJ0FcaesRsOoM7bAXpHsiETADiKN11uxoh8bBOnBjmSzZLbmPl-hW_linNFW8bg/s1600/teaser+number+nineteen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg-MWEnvD0h0m9SfAVIb-Txv8YtZz66y91uYS3pBlUoOZGPuIbFse6RbkHd50j4Qj6b9N8SwqCxQdElJ0FcaesRsOoM7bAXpHsiETADiKN11uxoh8bBOnBjmSzZLbmPl-hW_linNFW8bg/s1600/teaser+number+nineteen.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Twenty: (and the most important)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMj2cvPhKRB6hF_fW6OT2AisjAbEqv5JDjsP1ri1ko2rYpF3-PeO8bQHvF7q3V5ySXx3kG4deaHbRNpo7wjFrLxIk1yuWSZ1RSAzY1GDqGgYohWaG0EpeXKFFxWLOj6jgspU94M3nJ2s/s1600/teaser+number+twenty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCMj2cvPhKRB6hF_fW6OT2AisjAbEqv5JDjsP1ri1ko2rYpF3-PeO8bQHvF7q3V5ySXx3kG4deaHbRNpo7wjFrLxIk1yuWSZ1RSAzY1GDqGgYohWaG0EpeXKFFxWLOj6jgspU94M3nJ2s/s1600/teaser+number+twenty.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Twenty-one:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJe_RBaze0SmL59AEni7rs6udAe31M9d5X06-4-GBJ6IHM-ezg_Zle39nAcXboVqwxaBzYiY8kkxX02FcpikUIOa98VQNQ9Ku_M6yfvcaOKCHoN0IVGssqpTcfoiuwGdGo_PG754kScY8/s1600/teaser+number+twenty-one.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJe_RBaze0SmL59AEni7rs6udAe31M9d5X06-4-GBJ6IHM-ezg_Zle39nAcXboVqwxaBzYiY8kkxX02FcpikUIOa98VQNQ9Ku_M6yfvcaOKCHoN0IVGssqpTcfoiuwGdGo_PG754kScY8/s1600/teaser+number+twenty-one.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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Number Twenty-two:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzcBRvA8RxCUhCH8ppGvbliLwCD3sOTMRaobxvT-A5RBizACp4jyESLX42AucpA0wHZHowBhYL7cYA2ITiADc-A-iFJ50oSkXBvTlbE3jnU_PJSwST5O3VgKurINvpQENhgkzPkQ2siA/s1600/teaser+number+twenty-two.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguzcBRvA8RxCUhCH8ppGvbliLwCD3sOTMRaobxvT-A5RBizACp4jyESLX42AucpA0wHZHowBhYL7cYA2ITiADc-A-iFJ50oSkXBvTlbE3jnU_PJSwST5O3VgKurINvpQENhgkzPkQ2siA/s1600/teaser+number+twenty-two.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-53462846362194514262014-04-07T10:16:00.001-05:002014-04-07T16:32:11.202-05:00Culture StressI remember the day not long after our arrival in Costa Rica where I had a complete emotional meltdown (yes, there's a blog entry about that). Then during language school, there were days where I had had enough of Spanish. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to speak it. I didn't want to read it. While those days didn't occur very often, unfortunately for me when they did, it was <i>always</i> within the first 10 minutes of my first class, which was grammar.<br />
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Again, I've had my moments here in Mexico (most notably during the house-hunting process. There is, again, a blog entry about that, but it was never posted. Some things I write and choose not to share with everyone), but they have, again, thankfully been few and far between.<br />
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And then there's today.<br />
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This morning, I am unaccountably weepy, irritable, and hyper sensitive. The littlest things set me off into bouts of tears or anger: the front gate left open, clutter, the kids' squabbles, a friendly "how are you doing?", the realization that I mistook color-safe bleach for liquid detergent.<br />
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I can't remember the last time I had a sound, full night's sleep.<br />
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And Spanish. Oy. Some days I feel like I'm making real progress. This weekend, however, it felt like everything I was trying to communicate might as well have been in French for all that was understood by my listeners. And those trying to speak to me might as well have been speaking in French, as little as I understood them. I am heartily tired of not being understood and not understanding what's said to me in return. I've been told that the only way for this to get better is to spend more time listening and speaking the language. But when you're discouraged or experiencing culture stress, the last thing you want to do is hear or speak it <i>more</i>. And so you avoid it like the plague, which only makes it that much harder to speak and understand. It's a vicious, vicious circle.<br />
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I truly do love living in Mexico. I love the people, most of the food (as long as it's not too spicy), and the culture. There are far, far, far more things I love about life here than I dislike (mostly the driving). But I find myself increasingly homesick, looking forward to seeing friends and family and having the chance to become reacquainted with familiar places.<br />
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I did a little research on culture stress. All of the above are symptoms of this emotional state. I'm not exactly sure how to make it better. I plan to spend time in prayer, listening to the sounds and music that soothe me and raise my spirit, and rest. I definitely covet your prayers in the next few days especially.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-57279044875404395642014-03-17T18:23:00.002-05:002014-03-17T18:23:56.609-05:00Inadequate for the RoleIt is not often that I feel totally inadequate for the role God has placed us in these last months--pastoring a large (for us, considering the two other churches we've pastored were small, country churches with no more than 20 souls attending on a big event Sunday) church in Mexico City, in a language in which I lack complete confidence. But when I glance across the crowded sanctuary and see women weeping in brokenness, knowing that I haven't a clue what to say to them in Spanish, I feel completely inadequate.<br />
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Yesterday was one such occasion. I stood there and prayed as I watched her, tears sliding down my own cheeks because I knew the only thing I could offer her was a hug. Yes, there are times when this is enough. When the touch of someone who cares is more than enough to express the love of Jesus to a hurting soul. But it still doesn't take away my longing to be able to give real words of comfort.<br />
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I can speak Spanish, yes. I have studied many different tenses. But my own insecurities and laziness have greatly held me back from seeing improvement. I know this is something I need God's help with--I can't overcome this on my own. It is my goal to return to Mexico after our Homeland Ministry Assignment with a much better grip on the language. I know I'm going to have to work really hard, studying every day, and seeking out opportunities to simply <i>speak</i>.<br />
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I know those feelings of inadequacy will always strike when I least expect them. But my goal, my prayer, is that they are fewer and aren't as restricting. I want to be able to share a message of love in Spanish with my Mexican sisters when they are hurting and clearly in need of one. Please pray with me for God to help me in this process.<br />
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And pray with me that He will continue to prompt me to do what I already <i>can</i> do--let His love shine through a hug.Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2485900527764229538.post-85282922554155247792014-03-13T22:44:00.000-05:002014-04-07T16:32:34.697-05:00The Back Cover TeaserWhile waiting for my editor to get back with the things I need to fix, I can't upload the manuscript to CreateSpace. So, this evening I worked on everything else I could so that the process goes faster. With some help from a missionary friend, I'll have the book cover finished tomorrow. I also wrote up a description for the back cover.<br />
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<i>Emma Darcy had the perfect life--a blissful marriage, doting husband, and two adorable young sons. Then on the night of her 10th high school reunion, tragedy strikes. In a heartbeat, she's a widow left to raise her sons alone, all while facing an unexpected pregnancy and the return of a man from her past. As the months go by, her heart becomes increasingly hardened by anger--anger at the men responsible for her husband's death, and for God for allowing it.</i><br />
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<i>Dr. Justin Bennet doesn't want to blow his second chance with the woman he walked away from years ago. But after the death of her husband, it doesn't seem like she'll be ready to fall in love again any time soon. If ever.</i><br />
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<i>Will Emma's bitterness drive them apart for good, or will she finally find healing in forgiveness?</i>Jenny Gentryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13901925027266880781noreply@blogger.com0