Christian Fiction Friday - February 27, 2015

**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.**

 

The past two weeks, I've been sharing snatches of the book I'm currently working on, a sequel to my published book The Reunion, called 'The Return'. Be sure to check back next week for more!

 

(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.)

      Izobel gripped her fork in frustration. Her relationship with Matt and her inability to move on after his death was a topic she did not 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.”
 

     Regret pinched Noah's features. “Ah, I see. I’m sorry I asked, Izobel. I didn’t know.”
 

     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.”
 

      She could tell by the look on his face what his next question would be. Please don’t ask it. Let it go.
 

      “So why have you never married? You’re a beautiful woman. Surely there’ve been others in your life since your fiancé died.”
 

      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. 

  

     And to avoid answering the question.
 

      “Can I get you something for that headache?” Noah asked, concern deepening his voice.
  

     “I’ve got some ibuprofen in my bag. Can you please bring it to me? I think I left it the foyer.”
  

     “Sure thing. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back.”
 

     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 want 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.
    

     They weren’t Matt.

WIP Friday - February 20

It'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.

Enjoy, and be sure to check back next Friday for more!


       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.
       In his own personal hell, where he’d been trapped for the last six years.
       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.
       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.
       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.
       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.
       All of his memories, save one.
       The memories of her face.

A 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, The Reunion, and will be called 'The Return'.

Here's a little sample:

        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 would turn him down.
       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.
       “You’re welcome, Izobel. You looked a little tired, so I thought I’d spare you the wait in line.”
       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.
       “So, how do you know the Bennets?” he asked around a mouthful of food.
        Izobel stifled a sigh. Clearly, he wasn’t going anywhere. “I was engaged to Justin’s twin brother.”
       His eyes shot to her finger, then back to hers. “Since I already knew you are single, and you happened to mention that you were 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.”







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 The Reunion, available in paperback and for the Kindle.

The Most Passionate Love Story Ever Told

Once 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.

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.

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.

Why?

Because I know of the most passionate love story that's ever been told. What's more, I'm the recipient of this love.

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.)

You see, the love depicted in many movies, books, songs, television, etc, like that in 50 Shades of Grey, 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.

The first love shown to us by God and His Son, Jesus Christ.

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." While we were yet sinners. Obstinate 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."

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 The Passion 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.

The best part? If you had been the only person ever to sin, He would have done it all for you. You! Take a minute and substitute your name and personal pronouns into the above verses.

"God demonstrates His own love for [Jenny] in this: While I was still a sinner, Christ died for me."

"For God so loved [Jenny] that He gave His only Son, that if I believe in Him, I shall not perish, but have everlasting life."

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.

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.

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.

It's found all throughout the Bible, but particularly in the book of John.

Goodbye, 2014....Hello, 2015

Hard 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.

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!

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 feel 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:

(1) Regular, consistent, daily devotions.
(2) Exercising 45 minutes a day 4 x a week, and another 15 minutes 2 x a week
(3) Drinking at least 80 oz of water every day.
(4) 60 minutes of Spanish study 5 x a week, incorporating Spanish into my devotions 2 x a week.
(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.

If I can manage to reach all 5 of these goals, I will be able to say I "owned" 40.

'The Return' prologue

The prologue for my next novel, 'The Return'.

Prologue

6 years ago

     Justin Bennet sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands.
     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.
     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.
     Who could, when faced with the loss suddenly thrust upon him this week?
     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.
   
        Little Brother -

            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.
            And now, I’m one of their numbers.
            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.

    And then, the part of the letter that had clearly been recently added:

            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.
            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.

            Matt

     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.
     And now this.
     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.
     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.
     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.
     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.
     After all, what good would it do? Nothing would bring his brother back to them.

Still Longing for Home - Part 2

It's been a couple days since my last post, and I feel like God's been speaking to me about it.

A missionary friend of mine shared this with me on Facebook:  

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!

She could not know that her words mirrored what the Lord had been speaking to my heart at the same time.

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 we want, instead of being thankful for the things He 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.

I hadn't thought about it like that.

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.

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.

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.