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Birthday Remembrance of a Proverbs 31 Woman

Posted by on Sep 23, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Birthday Remembrance of a Proverbs 31 Woman

Today marks 101 years since Grandma Jones (Mildred) was born. She has been in heaven almost four years. I still think of her every day. Her love, kindness, gentleness, and wisdom live on in the memories of those who knew her and the stories they tell. She wasn’t a “talker.” In fact, she was one of the few people in her immediate family who wasn’t. She was a listener. However, when she said something you were well-advised to listen! So, today I want to create a blog of some of the sayings I remember. I hope they bless you as they do me. “The good old days weren’t so good.” Sod house where she gave birth to my Daddy “If it won’t matter in fifty years, it isn’t worth worrying about now.” “Crying doesn’t help, it just gives you a headache.” “The main thing with your weight, Miriam, is to keep the first number a one.” “It’s good to see them come, and it’s good to see them go.” (On family coming to visit.) “There  wasn’t much divorce when we were young. If you didn’t like him one day you just waited a few days until you did.” While watching Antiques Roadshow: “They aren’t worth that much. That’s just what they are willing to pay. Those are just old things from when I was a kid.” “Come see me when I’m alive, don’t worry about bringing flowers when I’m...

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Goldenrods and My Faith

Posted by on Sep 11, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Goldenrods and My Faith

“Aren’t those yellow flowers beautiful?” I pointed out the window of the pick-up at the mass of wildflowers in the ditches alongside the road. “They’re all along the road up the mountain too.” I’ve thoroughly enjoyed the glorious yellow flowers as I’ve driven back and forth to Hendersonville the past few weeks, and here were more of them between Newberry and Banner Elk. “Those are goldenrod,” Bruce said. “They are terrible allergens.” My mouth dropped open. “Goldenrod? That’s the state flower in Nebraska. What’s it doing out here?” And then, it happened. Yes, if you know me and my love of Nebraska, you will know what happened next. I started singing. There I was, riding through the North Carolina foothills singing Beautiful Nebraska at the top of my lungs.                                     Beautiful Nebraska, peaceful prairie land. Laced with many rivers, and the hills of sand.   Then I realized what I was doing and I stopped. You see, the song and the Nebraska lore are so deeply engrained in my mind that it is automatic. I don’t even think about it. I just sing. After all, I spent eighteen years of my life in Nebraska. But I wasn’t in Nebraska. Just singing the Nebraska song didn’t change my location. For that I would need to get in a car or hop on a plane and head west. Yesterday on my walk I saw more goldenrods all along the path to the park and it started me thinking. It struck me that my Christian upbringing has similarities to the goldenrod influenced outburst of Sunday evening. Bible verses and hymns are the stuff of my childhood. When I hear the word “joy” a song immediately jumps into my mind. Many phrases pull a verse up from my subconscious. But, the truth is just having a culture of spiritual songs and scriptures isn’t enough. That doesn’t make me a Christian. No, that required a decision to place my trust in what Jesus did for me on the cross. Yes, I’m glad I have a Nebraska heritage. I’m also thankful for my Christian heritage. But, above all I’m thankful for the saving grace of God, for without it I’d just be singing about a destination I’d never see!   P.S. The Grandparents Day book drawing was won by Carol Weeks. Congratulations, Carol! Your book will be in the mail tomorrow! Thank you to all who commented on my...

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Grandma Walton’s Real Estate

Posted by on Sep 7, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Grandma Walton’s Real Estate

Yesterday at work I was in a patient’s room giving a medication. My patient was watching The Waltons. I have strong memories of sitting at Grandpa and Grandma Jones’ house with the cousins, eating grapes and watching The Waltons. Awesome memories. While I signed into the computer, scanned the patient’s armband and medication, and gave the medication I watched and listened to two scenes in this episode. John Boy began by narrating the fact that when he started writing he wanted to tell the stories of his family and his home. Then it goes to a scene with him waiting while his teacher reads his story. It was the first story he had been brave enough to share and I found myself becoming nervous for him as he waited. Of course she loved it and told him that he had a gift. A gift that was his alone and he could do anything with. I was delighted. But wait, there was more! The next scene is John Boy talking to Grandma. Grandma is looking at the paper and she acknowledges that if the teacher says it is really good, it must be really good. She says she is proud. Then she goes off on a speech about how John Boy’s grandpa gave him an inheritance of the meadow and she doesn’t have anything to give him. He assures her that her gift to him was just being there, but she shrugged him off and kept talking. Grandma explained that her family was a family of story-tellers. When she was a girl they sat around and told stories. You could see the light come on in John Boy’s mind and he said, “Then I inherited my gift from you!” Grandma smiled. Shaking with delight she said, “John Boy, those stories have been maturing in my mind and now they are ready to be told. I will tell them to you and that will be your inheritance from me!” “Grandma, I cherish you,” said John Boy. And Miriam cried. It reminds me of my grandpas. I’ve sat and listened to all three of them share family stories with me. That’s why I write! Tomorrow is Grandparents Day. So many elderly people want to leave something of worth to their children. Many don’t think they have anything to offer. I suggest that the stories and wisdom from our elders is something to be cherished! Something to listen to and remember! Something to write down! Elders, go forth and tell! The rest of you. . . go forth and...

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Bradley Beans and the Badeau Family

Posted by on Sep 5, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Today two great things happened! First I picked, snapped, and canned four jars of beans. The second thing which happened is that I received a book via UPS! Now, what on earth do these two things have to do with each other? Let me tell you. My husband and I were talking on the phone and he shared something. “I was thinking about your blog post about pole versus bush beans and I realized something,” he said. He proceeded to relate how the blog post made him realize that the beans we are growing aren’t just food. They are legacy. You see, we obtained the seeds from his uncle and they are called Bradley Beans. They are saved down through the generations from who-knows-where. In fact, my husband is on a search to find how long these beans have been used by his family and where they got them. All he knows is that they are the only kind his parents ever grew, and the entire extended family depends on saving their Bradley Beans. Just a couple of nights ago I spent a few minutes removing beans from some of the pods we let get too big to eat. They will be our seeds for next year. We even hope to have enough extra to share with a cousin who lost her seeds when she moved, and my parents who think the idea of not bending over to pick beans is a good one! Bruce went on to explain that one part of the legacy is the fact that you have to save the seeds. Every year. You can’t depend on seeds from years ago. We found that out when we inherited the house. We tried planting some beans we found here, but it had been too many years. Bruce pointed out that it is like working with children. The influence we have on children is an hourly, daily, weekly, continuous process. We can’t just depend on what we did a year ago. It takes time! It takes repeated teaching. It takes continuous work. Whether a parent, aunt, uncle, or grandparent our influence needs to be ongoing. This leads to the book I received in the mail by my friends Hector and Sue Badeau, Are We There Yet? The Ultimate Road Trip: Adopting and Raising 22 Kids. I was privileged to read a preliminary copy on my computer and I was hard-pressed to put it down. My heart soared with them when they had glorious break-through moments and brought each child home. My heart broke with them when the realities of life came crashing in. I was inspired by their honesty and transparency in speaking of their own human frailty. This couple doesn’t focus on raising a kid and letting them go. No, they are in it for the long haul. Almost every day I see Sue posting a message on Facebook for one of her children or grandchildren (and sometimes more than one a day, as you can...

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Pole or Bush?

Posted by on Sep 3, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 1 comment

In the past three days we have picked, snapped, and canned twenty pints of green beans. I am delighted to say the least, but rather amazed considering the sad state of our garden this year. After all, it has been a record-breaking wet year with many farmers and gardeners losing almost everything. We lost all forty-nine tomato plants to the water. Our squash plants rotted on the vine. It was reported that squash were selling for 60 dollars a bushel. It’s been bad. So, the great bean harvest we have experienced is nothing short of a miracle. Well, that and the fact that they are pole beans and my husband went to all of the work of putting up the poles, the wires, and the strings for all four rows. I have to admit I haven’t always been a fan of the pole bean method. I was raised on bush beans. It seemed like a colossal waste of time to get those poles in the ground, put the wire up, and then lace the string up and down along the rows. I did like the fact that I didn’t have to bend over and break my back to pick the beans, but really. . . was it worth it. This year it has been, no doubt! The truth of the matter is this, without those poles and string the beans would have stayed on the ground and rotted in the muck just like the rest of the garden. Instead, the bean plants climbed straight up toward the sky and I have to stand on tiptoes to pick some of the beans. I haven’t needed a ladder yet, but who knows. This evening I was thinking about the beans and how blessed we are that they are pole beans and not bush beans. I couldn’t help but realize the spiritual application. If I stay on the ground in the muck of this world’s sin I will rot. If I climb the strings, wires, and poles of the truths God gives in his Word I can climb for the sky and produce wonderful “beans” of love, joy, peace, patience, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and self-control. I think I’d rather be a pole Christian than a bush Christian. What about you?...

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Making it till Midnight

Posted by on Aug 28, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Some years ago I started reading the Psalms for my devotions. Someone suggested a reading program that allows you to read through the Psalms in a month. I love the Psalms. Many of them remind me of Grandma McKnight. She often had us memorize verses from the Psalms when we visited their home. This has been my “go-to” devotional plan when I don’t have anything else specific and I admit, I’ve fallen back on this plan so much I’ve probably neglected the New Testament. However, how can you go wrong with the Psalms? Today I collected my Bible, a notebook, and a devotional book and with a mug of tea in hand I settled on the couch. I read the five chapters but each verse was a battle. My mind wouldn’t settle. My plans for this week aren’t quite going right. Cares of the world are weighing heavy. I found my mind jumping all over the place. So, I read a few verses in Philippians then returned to Psalms. I would read them again. This time I found a treasure. (It was there before, I know.) Psalm 118:24 This is the day which the LORD hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it. Memories flooded back. Grandpa McKnight was known for his “sayings.” He had favorite phrases, sayings, and stories that he liked to use. They were repeated so consistently and predictably that our family can bring Grandpa into any situation just by copying his saying. It’s pretty awesome, really. One of his sayings would occur whenever you asked him how he was feeling. “Oh, I think I’ll make it till midnight,” he would quip. We would grin. He didn’t complain about how he was feeling, he didn’t gloat about feeling terrific, he simply said he thought he’d make it till midnight. In December of 1997 Grandma McKnight went to heaven. She was ready and though we would miss her we knew she wouldn’t be in all of that pain up there. We gathered to say goodbye and buried her on Saturday. The next morning we joined Grandpa at church where he was the interim pastor. He stood inside the foyer as my sister, Cheryl and I came through the door. “How are you this morning?” one of us asked. I waited, knowing what he would say. My heart needed to hear it. The assurance. The continuity. The tradition. What came out of his mouth wasn’t what we expected and our mouths dropped open, I’m sure. “This is the day which the LORD hath made, we will rejoice and be glad in it.” I looked at Cheryl and she looked at me. We smiled at Grandpa, gave him a hug and went to our seats. That evening my Grandpa got in his car to drive back to church, but instead his soul traveled to heaven.  As I stood by his empty body in the ER that moment in the church came back to me. Did he know?...

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Of Squash and Volunteers

Posted by on Aug 20, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 1 comment

When we first came to see the house that has become our new home we noticed something growing just outside the back door. In a small area below the back porch we saw squash plants. Lots of them. We laughed at the volunteer squash growing where the previous owners had obviously thrown their scraps. It was a compost heap gone wild.   After that, every time we returned to the house I looked forward to watching the progress of the plants and the squash. What kind of squash were they? Zucchini? Yellow Squash? Acorn Squash? I just couldn’t wait until they started making actual squashes! Squashai? Squash! But, lo and behold, when the squash began forming it was still unclear. They started out looking like yellow squash, then quickly turned green starting at one end. Eventually they progressed to round acorn looking things, but kind of like zucchini in color. Well, at least some of them. After several weeks it became obvious that more than one kind of squash seed was discarded here and the plants evidently crossed. I picked one—it looked like an acorn—cut it open and discovered, wait for it, spaghetti squash! I like spaghetti squash! We fried a round yellow/green squash and it was delicious. And now, I’ve picked several others and we’ll try them one by one. It’s the great volunteer squash adventure! Gotta love volunteer plants. Thinking about my volunteer squash garden made me think about people volunteers and I saw some parallels. You never know what you are going to get when you first meet the volunteer. The exterior may not fully reveal the value of the interior. The volunteer may be an unexpected blend of two great types of volunteers. You take what you get, you need to make the best use of each volunteers attributes. You can’t make the volunteer into something it isn’t. Volunteers are free and you should be thankful for them instead of complaining about what they can’t do because they are volunteers.   So, there you have it. Lessons from a squash garden. . . a volunteer squash garden!...

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A Ladies Meeting Like No Other

Posted by on Aug 17, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

One of my favorite things about Facebook is the renewed connections with childhood friends. Some of these people I haven’t seen since I was eleven or twelve. But, they know a part of my life that many people now cannot. They were there when my mother died. I believe that children live very much in the here and now. They play for hours with their friends with no understanding of how time and distance will change things. How can they know? Of course, some children move around a lot and they know—all too well—the pain of saying goodbye to friends. . . or of not even having the opportunity to say goodbye.   Anyway, as an added side benefit to the reconnection I have become aware of the parents of my friends. You know, those other mom’s and dad’s who were around when you were a kid? Some of them were important enough in your daily routines that you formed a strong memory. Others were simply part of the chorus of adults that watched over you. They protected you even when you didn’t know it. And they hugged you when the unimaginable happened and your mommy died.   I don’t have a lot of particular memories of the other mothers from my childhood. I do remember my mother folding clothes while talking to one of her many friends on the phone. I also remember that when my mother died this group of six or seven women gave me hugs. That, I’ll never forget.   This summer we stopped in Lincoln and I visited one of the “moms.” It was obvious that she was in failing health and we had a lovely hour reminiscing and catching up. She mentioned that she visited with my mother on the phone the day before she died. She said my mother was a good friend.   Do we not hear voices, gentle and great, and some of them like the voices of departed friends–do we not hear them saying to us, “Come up hither?” – William Mountford   This morning Mrs. Rose Halvorson stepped into heaven where there is no more sickness, no more pain, and no more sorrow.   “What they do in heaven we are ignorant of; what they do not we are told expressly.” – Jonathan Swift   We don’t really know everything that happens in heaven but I like to think that heaven’s contingency of Riverside Baptist Church ladies from the 1960’s and 1970’s was there to greet her—Doris Saner, Rachel Niblett,  and Nora Ann Jones. Now that would be a ladies meeting to beat all ladies meetings! I’m just saying.   “In a better world we will find our young years and our old friends.” – Jean-Antoine Petit-Senn...

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The Handprint on the Mirror

Posted by on Aug 17, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

I love hearing from people who have read my books. It gives me great satisfaction knowing that people enjoy reading the stories I write. I want to share a recent letter I received from a new friend. I’m not sharing this to brag on the book, although I do think you would enjoy reading it! I’m sharing this letter because it touched me. My heart loved the story one of the pieces in my book prompted this reader to send in. I think you’ll understand why when you read it for yourself. “I have thoroughly enjoyed reading All I Have Needed and I wanted to tell you that one particular story of yours reminded me of a story of my Great-Aunt Carrie that my mother once told me. Great-Aunt Carrie was my father’s aunt. My mom was a young mother and Aunt Carrie was in her 60’s when I was a baby. Mom was always very concerned that her young children would make a mess or inconvenience Aunt Carrie when we visited, so she was always trying to corral us and constantly shushing us. Aunt Carrie would fuss at Mom and tell her to let the kids be kids, but Mom was still nervous when we visited that we would break something or make a mess. Mom and Dad visited Aunt Carrie and Uncle Ray on Sundays after church and on one particular Sunday Mom was being herself and trying her best to keep us corralled and quiet. Aunt Carrie told Mom that she wanted to show her something and took Mom into her bedroom where the antique wardrobe sat and showed Mom a tiny, perfectly formed hand print on the mirror. Mom immediately started apologizing and attempted to wipe it off. Aunt Carrie stopped her and told her that that hand print had been there for several weeks if not months and she left it there on purpose because it reminded her, every time she looked in the mirror, of the precious children that she loved to have over to visit. From that point on, Mom stopped shushing and fussing over us and let us be kids and let Aunt Carrie enjoy us, hand prints and all. That hand print was mine and that story always warmed my heart. Your Treasures on a Tablecloth story reminded me of her and I think about it, and her, 25 or more years after she died. Thank you for sharing your book and your memories with me.”   Thank you, Tracy for sharing your story with us. What a precious memory! As an aunt, I found this story particularly precious. I know that often great-aunts and uncles who aren’t grandparents themselves can be just as influential in a child’s life. Maybe this year for Grandparent’s Day you can do something special for your great-aunt or great-uncle! Don’t forget to leave a comment on my blog sometime this month to have your name entered in the free book give-away. You can comment...

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A Road Trip With Grandma

Posted by on Aug 9, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 2 comments

Somewhere in my twenties I discovered something. It was a lot of fun to visit my grandparents without my parents. Now, nothing against my parents but it was a whole different feel when I was not the child in the situation. So I began fitting visits to my grandparents into my schedule. We didn’t have the benefit of living in the same town as our grandparents. The only time that happened was when I was born, and I don’t remember it. So, visiting grandparents meant planning for time off, vacation time, or at least a long weekend. Over the next fifteen years or so I continued making trips to Georgia and Nebraska. I loved it. I found they talked to me more as an adult. They shared memories with me. We just had a blast. One of my favorite memories from a visit was when my friend/sister-by-law Chari and I took Grandma Jones on a road trip. We traveled to Broken Bow one March, picked her up and hit the road. Our first stop was in Grand Island to have lunch with her sister Pearl and husband Francis. I have photos somewhere of an attempt to get their picture together. The problem was that Pearl was intent on being Pearl and kept turning her back to the camera.  Grandma just smirked. You see how it was, sisters being sisters. On we traveled to Lincoln, NE where Grandma spent a few days with her sister Eva, and Chari and I enjoyed an awesome visit with my dad’s cousin Cookie, and her family. To top it off, it started snowing and we got snowed in and had to stay an extra day or two. When we cleared the driveway, someone went and fetched Grandma and Aunt Eva to the house and we had a glorious evening of eating, reminiscing, and sharing stories. Grandma radiated the joy of being with her sister. Grandma in the middle with sisters Ethel and Eva at Jones Family Reunion Think about it. Imagine yourself a senior citizen unable to drive and your siblings live hours away. Would you want someone to take you for a visit? Well, of course. The look on Grandma’s face that night was one I’ll never forget. Priceless. This month I am focusing on grandparents as a promo of sorts for National Grandparents D ay which is September 8th. I want to highlight the importance of grandparents, but also give you some ideas for ways you can celebrate with your own grandparents. Do your grandparents live close by? Then you don’t have to plan quite so carefully, do you. Stop by the house for a visit, take them out to lunch, and drive them to see a sibling. But maybe like mine did, yours live far enough away that it will require a little planning, maybe a day off of work, a weekend trip. Just do it, you’ll never regret it. I don’t. To celebrate National Grandparents Day I am giving away...

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Quotes for Today

Posted by on Aug 6, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized | 1 comment

Short today as I am posting via smartphone from new house with no Internet where I am surrounded by boxes crying to be emptied. “I give you this to take with you. Nothing remains as it was. If you know this you can begin again, with pure joy in the uprooting.” -Judith Minty   “Home is where  you make it.” –Uncle Jim Jones      

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Transition-itis, the Cure!

Posted by on Aug 2, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

  Do you know that “morning after the big event” feeling? The one where you feel like you’ve been hit by a ton of bricks and you Just. Can’t. Move? And using your brain? Don’t even think about it! That’s me this morning. Yesterday afternoon I finally sent the completed manuscript to my publisher for the third in my children’s mystery series, The Double Cousins Mysteries. I was so giddy—relieved, and well—exhausted. I slept hard, but this morning I woke up in somewhat of a fog. I don’t think it can all be blamed on the finished project either. It’s what I call transitionitis—the unrest and anxiety that occurs when we have to uproot ourselves and shift gears. You see, today we transition—well, really we dive right in—to a move. This weekend we load the U-Haul in Newberry, swap out some minor things like pianos in Hendersonville, and drive up into the mountains to unload in Banner Elk, NC. So, I’m a bit overwhelmed. Somewhat dismayed. Feeling like coffee isn’t going to do it! What to do? Then a verse popped into my head. A verse from Joshua. Now, if anyone knew about picking up and moving, it was Joshua. Just saying. Here’s the verse. What is God saying to you today? Joshua 1:9 Have not I commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou...

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The Real Treasures

Posted by on Jul 30, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Sometimes I wonder if the things that belonged to my mother are so special just because she died young. Would they have as much meaning if she was still living? I am blessed to have quite a few of her treasures. I have china, a grandma cookie jar her grandma made for her, many music books, a jewelry box and the list could go on. Most recently I was given her notebook of notes and poems.  Like I said, I’m blessed. Until a few years ago, I also had some ratty, stained, gross pot holders. They were tucked away in my cedar chest because—face it –they were too gross to have out. But still, I couldn’t part with them. Then one day I looked at the china. I opened the jewelry box and looked at her beads. I played some music she loved and I realized. I had more than enough. I didn’t need those ratty old pieces of material. So, I threw them away. I know, big step huh? Actually, I don’t NEED the china or any of the other things my mother left behind. They’re nice and believe me, if there was a fire I’d be grabbing at least one of them before I headed out the door but they aren’t essential. You see, my mother gave me the most important things before she died. And they aren’t things. She gave me life. She gave me love. She gave me the knowledge of Jesus and forgiveness. Those are the real treasures. Matthew 6:19-21 Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:  But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be...

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Final Stop! Get Some Questions Answered!

Posted by on Jul 27, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Today’s post can be found at faithofourfoundingfathers.com, the website of two amazing ladies who are using their talents to remind America of it’s God-given legacy of faith and patriotism. Kendra Armstrong is an attorney, writer, speaker, and patriotic American with a passion for seeking and teaching God’s perspective on political and social issues and using that knowledge to change the world for Christ. Deborah Sprinkle is a chemist by trade who not only taught chemistry at the high school level, but was head of the chemistry department. She is gifted at teaching not just chemistry, but also the Bible. She has written questions for five bible study books. These are just a few of their gifts and accomplishments. When I met them this Spring at the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference they shared with me their new release, Common Sense and an Uncommon God.  I was immediately convinced God’s hand was on these women when they co-wrote this patriotic devotional.  (Click the link above for more info about purchasing this book.) I am grateful and pleased to no end that Kendra and Deborah agreed to host my last post. Please take time to look at their site and watch some of their awesome TV interviews and I’m sure you’ll want their book as much as I did! Click on the photo below to travel to their site for today’s...

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Virtual Book Tour – The Girl on the Staircase

Posted by on Jul 26, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Welcome once again to the Virtual Book Tour for All I Have Needed-A Legacy for Life. If you have been following all week you have visited five different sites.  Are you ready for number six?  I am delighted to have Adriana Vermillion host my post today on her blog. She is an amazing friend, mother, entrepreneur, teacher, mentor, and potty whisperer. What did you say? Yes, you heard me right. Potty Whisperer. I admit when I met her at Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference my face probably gave me away. I was thinking, What in the world? But then Adriana smiled at me and explained in her lilting voice that POTT’Y stands for Passionate Optimal Thinker Teaching the “Y” Generation. A quick look at her home page will show you she deals with everything from potty training to phone aps, emotional difficulties to financial problems. So, let’s get started! After reading my post for today take some time to check out her site. There is enough there to keep you busy for the next month! Please click on the picture below to be transported to today’s post!...

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Virtual Book Tour – A Legacy of Women on God’s Mission!

Posted by on Jul 25, 2013 in Blog, Home Is Where The Story Starts, Uncategorized |

Hello! Welcome to day five of this exciting Virtual Book Tour! I am delighted to announce that today’s post can be found on my friend Sara Skinner’s site, Women on God’s Mission. Sara and I were roommates at Northland Baptist Bible College more years ago than I want to admit. During that time we had the amazing opportunity to take a mission trip to Hungary and Romania. I learned something about Sara I hadn’t appreciated in our normal environment. From the moment we stepped into the airport until the time we arrived back, Sara sailed through her days befriending everyone around her. It was as if she saw everyone as a new friend who needed to meet someone who loves Jesus! She was a woman on God’s mission. After college we gradually drifted apart. A couple of years ago we reconnected via Facebook and her blog. As I’ve watched her posts I’ve been delighted to realize Sara is still Sara. In everything she does I see she still has one purpose—to show the love of Jesus to those with whom she comes in contact. Same mission, different time of life. I am honored that Sara has agreed to host my blog today. I hope you take the time to read some of her other posts and think about how God might want to use your gifts and personality to fulfill His purpose. Click on the photo below to go to today’s...

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