Publishing News! Check out STORIES THAT SING - HAVOK'S ANTHOLOGY

Now available on Amazon!

My first published flash-fiction story, entitled “MINE,” is now available in print!

Many of you know the good people at HAVOK Publishing. What you may not know is that HAVOK prints seasonal anthologies of curated stories that are chosen by their readers and editors. Now they have released SEASON TWO: STORIES THAT SING - A Flash Fiction Anthology, and I’m beyond thrilled that my story was selected for inclusion!

It’s available now on Amazon at a GREAT PRICE, so support indie publishing and authors and get your copy today! The printed format is coming soon, but you can get the Kindle edition starting April 30, 2020.

If you don’t know about HAVOK, they release fresh, free, flash-fiction stories on their site every weekday, and for just a five bucks a year subscribers can freely access all their stories and archives.

JOIN THE HAVOK HORDE!

LEAFBOUND

Born into darkness with a hunger that doesn’t stop.
Will her need ever be satisfied, or will it drive her to despair?

LEAFBOUND is free at goHavok.com
on Friday, March 27th

Sovereign over Stupid?

I think when I get to heaven, I should bring God one of these "I'm with stupid" t-shirts, cuz, sometimes...you know.

I get that He's sovereign over the stuff life throws at me - the big picture things like pregnancy, death, illness, jobs. I get that He's sovereignly working all things for good in lots of the smaller things as well - relationships, bills, stuff like that. I even can trust that He is bigger than my sin, and uses these stumbles and failures along the way to work love, trust, humility and thanksgiving in my heart, not to mention a deeper understanding of grace along the way.

What I have a difficult time resting in is that He is sovereign over my stupid as well. Seriously. I do stupid things. To some who have known me for a long time, this may not be an earth-shattering revelation. I flake out. Especially on details. Like dates. Or hours. Or commas in numbers. That last one is fun in marriage. Flaking out combined with being a chronoptimist can be hazardous to a schedule, and has put more than one relationship to the test.

It's one thing when the stupid only effects me, but when my stupid visits consequences on others, especially my kids, a serious self-beatdown starts ramping up in my head. "Failure/loser/worst mom ever." It's a mantra that is hard to shake. So I turn to a different one. A mantra that speaks truth and life into my despair and self-hatred.

"The Lord is my shepherd."

If God is my shepherd, that makes me a sheep. I take comfort in this. Sheep are not known for their intelligence, strength or bravery. They need a shepherd that will protect & guide them. One who anticipates their needs as He leads them. One who will rescue them from predators as well as their own stupid choices.

I have a good shepherd.

I am thankful that God does not allow me to construct a pretend world in which I am deluded into thinking that I am not in need of His rescue. His provision. His mercy. His grace. I would rather see in a mirror clearly and know that I need my Savior than live a lie of self-sufficiency. So if stupid keeps me from prideful delusions of adequacy, I guess it's a good thing.

Are ya CRAZY, or just INSANE?

Faith is crazy. Straight up, nuts.

Think about it.
Sure of the things we hope for?
Certain about things that can’t be seen?

What’s that all about?

I mean, seriously, who spends 120 years building a boat — in a desert?
Who tries to have a baby at 90 when your husband is 100?
Who, when it’s 450 against one, soaks the wood in a calling-down-fire contest?

Who refuses to bow, knowing the death sentence attached to defiance?
Who goes against a 9-foot tall seasoned warrior, wielding only a slingshot?
Who comes from the backside of the desert with nothing but a walking stick to confront the power behind the pyramids?

Who fights an occupying enemy by whittling down his fighters from 32,000 to 300, and then arms them with clay pots and trumpets?
Who sends the musicians out first, in front of the soldiers, to defend his people against the combined forces of three nations?
Who tries to feed 5,000 with five loaves of bread and two fish?

And what innocent, as he suffers an agonizing death, pleads mercy,
not for his own life but for that of his killers?

Crazy.

On the other hand…

I’ve heard insanity described as
doing the same thing over and over and over again
but expecting a different result.

Life according to this world’s rules is insane.

Like thinking a new lover,
or a new marriage,
will make you happier

or more money,
a nicer car,
or a bigger house

Like thinking that changing the way my body looks,
will change how I feel about myself

or that winning the argument
was what I really wanted.

Haven’t we figured out,
waiting in line with our groceries,
that chasing riches & fame won’t satisfy the aching need of our souls?

How many of those that our world considers to be the most beautiful & talented
have tanked their careers,
their relationships,
and even their lives
getting everything they ever wanted.

This world seems to have but one rally cry
“EAT, DRINK, BE MERRY — for tomorrow we may die”

Giving no thought to what follows.
Silent at — “your soul, this night is required of you.”

So, the question remains

Are you crazy?

Or are you just insane?

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.  Hebrews 12:1-2

Like a River

There are people out there whose lives could be described as peaceful. 

People who have glass ornaments on their trees -- I'm not one of them.

But God promised to give peace like a river, not peace like a pond.

That works for me. Whitewater rapids come to mind.

Few things look more peaceful than a pond.

Smooth and stationary, with little or no splashing. 

Not much changes. Surface tension comes to mind.

You can know the boundaries of a pond.

Natural or man-made reservoirs, they’re limited in how much they can take. 

Too much and they overflow. Too little and the edges recede. 

A pond may even dry up or go stagnant.

Rivers, on the other hand, are not tame things.

Originating upland, they meander until they flow into other bodies of water. 

Coursing, twisting and turning, going over, under and around obstacles placed in their paths; liquid powerfully eroding those rock solid obstacles until they are smooth, or sand.

Rivers may appear to follow designated paths but more often than not, rivers make the paths.

Peace like a river. 

Peace that doesn't limit itself to what I can handle, manage or contain. 

Peace that doesn't depend on my discipline, or willpower, or obedience. 

Peace that is beyond my understanding because Peace is not something I can practice or concoct. It's not a skill that I can improve. Peace comes from a source. An inexhaustible source. The Prince of Peace. 

I am at peace with God because of Jesus. And I can know the peace of God when my eyes are stuck on Him, because I trust in Him.

So when the ride is wild, I can throw my hands up in surrender to His power and His love. 

I know I can't handle it. But He can. 

And I can rest in peace.

Russian Tea

Russian Tea, aka spice tea, is a winter staple in my home. Summoned by the first cool breath of fall, it’s simple and delicious, warming body and soul.

When my mother emigrated from Korea to the United States, the Fleming family, Dean and Doris, and their two young daughters, Debbie & Susan, welcomed her into their home in Sitka, Alaska. At that time most Sitka kitchens were stocked with non-perishable items, and Russian Tea, made with Tang and instant tea, was a favorite in the Fleming household. It soon became one for their new “sister,” Susie Lee.

Here’s the recipe I copied from my mom, with my tweaks. Doris would add Red Hots candy for a little kick. Russian Tea also makes an easy and welcome gift.

• 1 cup Tang

• 3/4 cup instant tea (I use decaf)

• 1 cup sugar (to taste, can be omitted)

• 1 tsp cinnamon

• 1/2 tsp cloves

Just add a heaping tablespoon (or two) to a mug of boiling water and you’re set up for a cozy evening.

Blueberry Delight

One of the many amazing things about my mom was her love of cooking, especially for people she loved.  It was important to her that the food not only taste wonderful, but it had to look beautiful too. One of her Fourth of July standards was Blueberry Delight, a no-bake cream cheesecake on a graham cracker crust with blueberry pie filling on top.  It's a  pretty standard recipe, but special to me nonetheless.  I lost my card and searched her recipe boxes in hopes of finding her original recipe.

My efforts were not in vain, yielding not only the recipe, but Mom's source for this dessert.  So thank you Ellie Haugauer, wherever you are.  (I sometimes have difficulty deciphering Mom's handwriting, so that last name is really iffy.)  I think she got this recipe in the early 1970's.  Which means we were either going to the AOG or the Evangelical Lutheran church at the time.  I suspect the Lutheran church, it was full of Norwegian ladies that made great desserts.

Blueberry Delight

Mix and press into 9 x 13 pan:

• 2 1⁄4 c graham crackers, crumbled (1 pkg)

• 1⁄4 c sugar

• 1⁄2 c margarine, melted (I use butter)

Bake @ 350° for 8 min.  Cool.

Combine:

• 1⁄2 c sour cream

• 8 oz cream cheese, softened

• 1⁄3 c powdered sugar

Fold in gently:

• 2 c dream whip, whipped (I just made some whipped cream - added confectioner's sugar & vanilla)

Spread gently over cooled crust.

Chill until firm.

Spoon blueberry (or cherry, strawberry, whatever you want!) pie filling over top, return to fridge.

Serve chilled.

It's a really easy recipe, and a very light dessert (to eat, probably not calorie-wise.)

Leave a comment here if you try it.  let me know how it comes out!  If you can keep the hounds at bay, send me a pic!  Mine always gets devoured before I can get to a camera!

thoughts on a verse

What does it mean to stretch out the heavens?

Is it like pulling taffy, or rolling dough?

Is it the unrolling of canvas to stretch over a frame, or pulling stockings over feet until the shrunken opaqueness conforms translucently to the leg?

Was there a concentration of dark substance thinned and stretched to reveal the image, unseen until time and space interrupted its pixels?

Is painting not a spreading or pulling of concentrated pigment across a surface until the soul’s expression is revealed?

But the one who stretches also condenses, for the Word became flesh and lived among us. Not the transference of divine energy into a vessel unable to contain its glory, but the concentrated essence of love, clothed in mortality, with one intent; to offer up its flesh, suffer and be killed, rather than let love’s object —us—bear the consequences of our own trespasses.

What does it mean to lay the foundation of the earth?

Is foundation the crust upon which we walk, mortal inhabitants who imagine ourselves creators and gods?

The product of erosion by nature and man, from which we rake and pillage substances we deem valuable, and upon which we deposit blood, sweat, and waste? Dispersed by air, dissolved by water; this solid matter has existed far longer than we. Yet we claim to own the dust to which we will all return. But we did not lay it.

Is the foundation of the earth its core, hidden deep within the strata and substrata? The molten nucleus wrapped by protective layers until we can live and move and have our being without suffering destruction.

Is the foundation of the earth not the building blocks from which we all derive our substance? The carbon and the nitrogen? The hydrogen and iron?

Who ordered these in such a way as to allow life, thought, art, and love, to thrive within their expressions? These elements exist on other spheres and yet there we hear no baby’s cry. No lover’s caress. No pang of grief and loss.

The heavens are a vast thing to stretch into existence, its foundations comprised of particles invisible to our eye. The incomprehensibly large and the infinitesimally small, both designed by the One. But this bit of scripture also declares that you are the LORD who forms the human spirit within a person.

The most elusive aspect of our being, which scientists cannot measure, but accounts for what we most value, is also formed by You.

This knowledge is so full of wonder, my mind cannot grasp it.

*Zechariah 12:1