Photo by Raychan on Unsplash

 

God Rejoices Over Me? Not Likely

by Marcia Lee Laycock

“I can’t remember anyone greeting me like that before.”

I smiled as my husband and I pulled away from our rental property. We hadn’t seen our tenants, a Syrian refugee family, for almost two months due to illnesses, both theirs and ours, so we expected our reunion would be joyous, but we did not expect that Nabil* would almost skip across the room, his arms wide, his eyes dancing with delight. His embrace was obviously heart-felt.

Then Nabil’s mother embraced me with the traditional kiss on both cheeks, then it was his wife’s turn, and then the children came one by one. We sat in their living room and had tea, then Yara disappeared into the kitchen and it wasn’t long before a huge meal was on the table. In their limited English they told us how well the children were doing in school and some of the health issues they’d been dealing with. As we visited it amazed me, once again, at how much could be communicated with so little ability to speak one another’s languages.

I still smile when I think of the delight in Nabil’s eyes that day. The scripture tells us that God, too, delights in us. Psalm 149, verse 4 says, “For the Lord takes delight in his people; he crowns the humble with victory.” And the prophet Zephaniah tells us, “The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.”

There have been many times when I’ve had a hard time believing those words. When I examine my own heart and see the twisted motives that lurk there, I can’t believe God would be delighted in me. When I hear harsh or cynical words come out of my mouth, I doubt that He would rejoice over me with singing. There are days when I think that I’m just a big disappointment to God and imagine Him giving a deep sigh as he turns away.

But my unbelief is cut to shreds by verses like these:  “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5); “As I was with Moses, so I will be with you; I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Joshua 1:5).

And my personal favourite, Romans 5:8, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

These verses are true because of what Jesus did on the cross. If we accept that sacrifice, if we seek that forgiveness, there is nothing that can come between us and His love, not even our own flaws and failings. Yes, then He delights in us and sings over us because we are His children, adopted into a family that will never be dissolved, a community that will live with Him forever.

Because of the cross I will one day see an even greater delight in the eyes of Jesus than I saw that day in the eyes of our friend.

“Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him” (Psalm 62:5).

*Names have been changed

 

I stood at the exit from the airport and couldn’t help but shiver as the doors in front of me slid open and the cold air rushed in. Returning to -20 degrees Celsius after basking in sunshine and strolling on white beaches was a bit of a shock. When my husband and I chose the dates for our vacation we had no idea that we would miss the ‘deep freeze’ that hit much of western Canada during those two weeks. Our timing couldn’t have been better! But now we were back.

The doors behind me opened and a young man dressed in shorts, t-shirt, and sandals, with a huge scarf around his neck charged toward the outer doors, his voice repeating loudly: “It’s not that cold, it’s not that cold, it’s not that cold.” I couldn’t help but laugh. As I saw his breath form a vapor cloud in the cold air, I knew no matter how many times he told himself it wasn’t that cold, the reality would not change. It was still -20. I hoped he didn’t have far to walk.

As I think about that young man it reminds me of the times in my life when I, and others around me, have denied reality because it did not suit our circumstances at the time. Like the day a group of us headed out on a bus to attend a conference in Calgary, even though the radio that morning had warned of white-out conditions on the road. The weather was fine when we headed out but not far down the highway, we found ourselves driving through a blizzard. We never did make it to Calgary and we were very fortunate not to have ended up in the ditch, or worse.

All of us have a tendency to deny reality now and then. Some of us deny the very existence of God, even though there is evidence all around us that our world was formed by an intelligent and incredibly imaginative creator. Like our denial of bad weather, doing so can have dire consequences. In the first book of Romans, verses 18 to 20, the apostle Paul warns:

“The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people who suppress the truth by their wickedness, since what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse.

“Without excuse.” If that young man wearing shorts into -20 degree temperatures got frostbite it would be his own doing. If we had gone off the road in that blizzard, we would have had no one to blame but our own foolishness. If you deny the existence of God, the consequences are on you.

Look around you. The evidence is plain to see. God exists. And He wants to get to know you now.

****

“An inspired and inspirational speaker. I was riveted.”

Book Marcia for your event – contact her at marcia@marcialeelaycock.com

 

 

 

What Is Success To You ?

 The Daytime Lives of the Ladies of the Night is the follow-up to the debut memoir by Toni Crowe. The Daytime Lives makes you think about your life and your definition of success.

Have  you ever wondered: “What do the women who sell their bodies and souls at night do in the daytime?  What do these women want out of life?

This follow-up to Never a $7 Wh**e continues to detail the lives of three escorts: Baby, Essence, Irish and their new  trainee, Tee.

As the four ladies struggle with the isolation associated with how they are living, The Daytime Lives of the Ladies of the Night reminds us that peace is within anyone’s reach, if they have the desire and determination to change their destinies.

Excerpt from Daytime Lives of the Ladies of the Night ***

Prince turned to me and said, “Hey, I need you to do me a favor.”

I looked at him suspiciously and responded with, “Oh, a favor?”

He said, “Yeah. I left my wallet at home, so I don’t have any money on me. I owe Ed here five hundred dollars. Ed said if I don’t give him his five hundred dollars right now, he’s going to have his two guys take me out in the bush and beat the living shit out of me until they get five hundred dollars’ worth.”

I was stunned. Even though Essence had told me something was coming, I was still stunned by what Prince was trying to do to me. My grandfather had called this one the “You a Sucker” scam. It worked well as long as the sucker thought they were saving a loved one from a horrible fate. The scam took many forms, and Prince was playing his version out pretty well. I guessed he had run this scam a hundred times.

I innocently asked, “What does this have to do with me, Prince?” I knew my mark.

“Well, Ed thinks you are one sexy woman. He said that if you would give him a blowjob, he’ll write off the entire five hundred dollars. There’s a bedroom upstairs. You and he can go up there discreetly. Once you give him a blowjob, he will forgive the entire five hundred dollars.”

I said, “Prince, I want to make sure I understand. You owe him five hundred dollars?”

“Yes, I owe him five hundred dollars,” Prince said.

“You don’t have the five hundred dollars with you?” I asked.

“No,” Prince said.

“But I’m certain we have five hundred dollars back at Tara, back at the house,” I responded sweetly.

Prince didn’t miss a beat and said, “Yes, but Ed is not willing to wait for it. He wants his money right now. So you have to give him a blowjob right now.”

Prince looked deep into my eyes, and he said, “How much do you love me? How deep is your love? Are you willing to see me beat to crap over a single, lousy blowjob?”

I winced, thinking about how ashamed I was to be in this situation. My grandfather would spin in his grave. Prince took my wince to mean he had gotten to me—that he was winning this game.

He pressed on. “How much do you care about me? If you cared for me, you would do this for me.”

I stared at the floor. I could feel any love I had left for him sliding out of my feet and out onto the floor like a living thing. I was a mark, nothing more. I was a sucker for this man. Prince thought he had me.

His voice was soft and sweet. “Tee, you would make sure I don’t get hurt. You would be my girl. You would be my savior. It’s one lousy blowjob.”

I said, “Yes, you’re right. How much money do we owe him again? I want to make sure I understand.”

He confirmed the debt was five hundred dollars, and then he smiled that beautiful hundred-watt smile at me, knowing I was going to acquiesce. I stood up at the same time that Ed did, and he reached for my hand. I did not take his hand. Instead, I reached into my purse. I pulled out the money I had stuffed in with my lipstick earlier. I had six hundred dollars. I counted out five hundred dollars for Ed, and I handed it to him.

I looked at Prince and said, “There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, baby. I think we have a much better solution.”

At that moment, I knew that I was one blessed woman. I had struggled with telling Essence where her little boy was. I was so worried about the consequences if Prince or Baby had found out. But I was all in. My heart told me that I needed to tell Essence and so I did. Her heads-up regarding this situation had prepared me for something unusual. Her money had helped me escape this time.

End Excerpt

Toni Crowe, BSEE, MSM, CLA, PE is the bestselling author of the $7 Journey series. She is an award winning and accomplished executive with 30 years of experience as a CEO/President, Vice-President, Director, Engineer, and Manager across multiple sectors including high tech, consumer and nuclear sensors, Aerospace,  film production and glass. Toni has extensive experience in P&L, Manufacturing, Operations Management, and Lean.  She has participated in a number of mergers and acquisitions. Toni is currently the CEO of  Just One,  her company which is dedicated to changing lives, one life at a time, by insuring that no one has to make the same mistakes she made.

Buy Daytime Life of the Ladies of the Night to remind someone what success is really about.

Smart Topics for Writers to Tweet About

By Ruth L. Snyder

Use Twitter to easily and effectively reach your readers

Successful writers take responsibility for marketing their own work. Social media, including Twitter, can be amazing tools. But how do you get started and use Twitter productively without wasting valuable writing time?

Ruth L. Snyder explains the benefits of Twitter for writers and leads you step by step through the process of setting up an effective account. Using this manual, you’ll learn the lingo, find your way around the Twitter dashboard, and start building relationships with your worldwide audience. You’ll also discover many tips and tricks to engage your audience and build a solid marketing platform in minutes a day. Finally, you’ll learn how to write great tweets, use hashtags, link shorteners, Twitter tools, schedule your tweets, use tweet templates, and continue building relationships with your worldwide audience.

Here’s a sample chapter from the book:

Are you stumped when it comes to deciding what to tweet about? We’ve already discussed that you need to tweet about things your individual audience is interested in, but there are some general topics any writer can tweet about. Sandi Krakowski (@sandikrakowski) suggests:

• Pictures of flowers
• A link to a favorite recipe
• Fun questions (What’s your favorite flavor of ice-cream? What’s the best book you’ve ever read? If you could be any cartoon character, who would you be? Who’s your hero?)
• Inspiring quotes
• Things that make people laugh

 

Pam Moore (@PamMktgNut) shares 100 ideas to tweet about http://www.pammarketingnut.com/2013/03/100-things-to-tweet-about-on-twitter-besides-yourself/ including:

• Tips to help people save money
• Photos of you that show your human side
• How-to tips
• Jokes
• Pictures of nature
• Thank a favorite writer or blogger
• Link to a favorite song
• Ask a thought-provoking question
• Tweet a whole story
• Share when you reach a goal
• Share a daily thought
• Tweet a positive review you received

Jenn Hanson-dePaula (@Jenndepaula) shares 40 ideas https://twitter.com/Jenndepaula:

• Mention (@[Twitter Handle]) one of your fans, thanking them for supporting you
• Share an old picture for #TBT (Throw Back Thursday)
• Write a Haiku
• Share something that has helped you in your writing
• Share the title of a book you’re reading and mention the author

Your turn!

Use one new idea each day this week in your Tweets. At the end of the week, use your “Notifications” and your bit.ly links to track which tweets get the most response and continue to use those ideas.

 

You can purchase your copy of Twitter Decoded at mybook.to/TwitterDecoded

 

Ruth L. Snyder resides near Glendon, Alberta, along with her husband and five children. Ruth enjoys writing articles, devotionals, short stories, and Christian fiction. Ruth is Past President of InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship.

 

Click on cover to purchase

Christmas by Marcia Lee Laycock is a collection of short stories that will take you from the far reaches of the galaxy to the edge of the Arctic Circle and the streets of the inner city. The miracle of Christmas is transported from one unusual setting to another, and into your heart as you read.

Here’s an excerpt from Missing Christmas:

Missing Christmas

Sulking and soaking. For me, the two always go together. I know when I’m not fit to be around people, especially the people I’m mad at, so the bathtub is the best place to be. I run the water as hot as I can stand it and stay there until I feel like I can be civil again. That night, the night before Christmas, I thought I might be there till dawn.

Tim had dropped the bomb when he came home from work two days before we were to go home for the holidays. Somehow he’d managed to mess up making the flight reservations. How could he mess up something so important, so essential to my sanity? Bad enough he’d talked me into coming here, to the end of reason and any sign of civilization, just so he could have a “real northern experience.” Bad enough he didn’t once compliment me on how I’d bravely been enduring the minus fifty degree temperatures. Bad enough we still had five more months to live in this town on the edge of the universe. Now we were stuck here for Christmas. And what was his excuse? He thought he’d told the travel agent to book it, but he had only asked her to give him the details. When she didn’t hear back from him, she assumed we’d changed our minds but didn’t bother to check. There are too many people in this town who definitely aren’t the brightest bulbs on the tree.

And speaking of trees. To try and pacify me, Tim dragged a tree home the day before Christmas. I caught him going out the door, downed from neck to ankle, a touque on his head and wool scarf wrapped about six times around his face. When I asked him where on earth he was going, he said something unintelligible and walked out the door. Three hours later I heard him stomping around on the porch. I poked my head out, the cold hitting me like a slap, and all I could see were his eyes. They were laughing. He tugged the scarf down long enough to tell me to wrap up and come out for a minute. Curious, I pulled on my parka and went outside.

He stood there like a little boy who’d just bagged his first bird. Only it was a Christmas tree he held onto. Or rather, it had been a Christmas tree. My mouth fell open and I sputtered through a mouth full of scarf.

Tim pulled his away from his mouth and grinned. “Just call me Charlie Brown,” he said. The tree was almost bare. Tim described how the needles rained down with every blow of the axe. What else did he expect at fifty below?

Then we tried getting it inside. The few needles left on the branches showered the linoleum in the kitchen until it looked like a forest path. We stood it in a corner and stepped back. Tim glanced at me sideways just as I did the same and we both burst out laughing.

“I’ll go buy an artificial one,” I said. Tim didn’t argue.

I trudged off to the only store in town, but of course they were sold out of Christmas trees, artificial or otherwise. Then I went to the grocery store to buy a turkey. No turkeys left either. No cranberry sauce, no fresh vegetables. They had some Caribou steaks on special. Whoopdeedoo.

****

To purchase Christmas by Marcia Lee Laycock go to Amazon.com or Amazon.ca

Or, if you live in Canada, order directly from the author by emailing marcia@marcialeelaycock.com

About Marcia

Marcia’s work has been published in magazines, newspapers and anthologies in both Canada and the U.S. and appears frequently on the world wide web. She currently writes a regular devotional column, The Spur, which appears in publications across Canada and goes out by e-mail to avid readers. Marcia’s writing has won many prizes, garnering praise from notable Christian writers like Janette Oke, Mark Buchanan, Phil Callaway and Sigmund Brouwer. She has published four devotional books, six novels and many short stories. Marcia won the Best New Canadian Christian Author Award for her novel, One Smooth Stone. The sequel, A Tumbled Stone was short-listed for a Word award along with her fantasy novel, Journey to a Strong Tower. Marcia is also a sought-after speaker for women’s events. To learn more about Marcia’s writing and speaking ministry visit her online at www.marcialeelaycock.com

 

 

 

 

How You Can Find Home When You Have Lost Your Way

By Janis Cox

 Have you had a time where you made a hasty decision?

Have you ever made financial decisions that were not good ones?

Do you listen to God on a daily basis?

We want our children to have a strong purposeful faith. We want them to trust and believe in God. We want to instil in them good values and faith disciplines.

The Kingdom of Thrim is packed full of valuable lessons – from money, to listening to God, to being creative and using your God-given gifts – to being content with what you have.

Created for ages 6 and up, The Kingdom of Thrim brings colour and excitement to a child’s life through vivid watercolour illustrations. The lessons learned are life lessons as one adult reader said:

“I needed this book. If you feel like you’ve lost your gift or wandered too far from home and aren’t sure if you can find your way back, you need it too.” Jeff Goins

Other happy readers have said,

“This is a delightful children’s book with a strong Biblical message. I loved the soft tone of the illustrations. It would make a wonderful story-book for those bedtime moments that are so important for bonding and teaching.” – Marcia Laycock

“Janis Cox is a beautiful storyteller and lovely illustrator and does an excellent job of presenting a story for both kids and adults that speaks to the very heart, no matter what age you may be. Highly recommended.” – Sally Meadows

To get a copy: Canadian Amazon 

US Amazon

Available in paperback or Kindle. Both of Janis’ books have children’s activities and research ideas in the back. Alternately you can contact me and I will send you one. Email Janis Cox.

The Secret Ingredient

PJ Paulson

In 2002, “it hit the fan,” as they say. I lost my job while a quirky medical condition progressed. My romance was on its last legs. I lived in town while pioneering my middle-of-nowhere ranchland – there was lots of driving back and forth. Outbuildings were burglarized. There was a severe drought. People in my life were behaving badly.

I couldn’t afford a move to Tuscany. A Spiritual Journey to Tibet was out of the question. Where could I go to awaken my True Soul…find a relief from pain (mental and physical)…make sense of the chaos…find the good in people…and just get by from day-to-day?

I needed to figure out why my life was falling apart, how to heal, and how to eventually get back in the game. I needed a sanctuary in which to look closely at life – both physically and mentally – and to heal.

I made the unconventional choice to forego my city apartment and embrace a simple, stripped-down, country life absent amenities such as plumbing, electricity, and central heat. I drew serenity and strength from Mother Nature to savor life off the grid. During my retreat, I contemplated my life philosophies and direction, eventually transforming a bleak outlook in the face of what appeared to have been a world gone mad.

Living in eastern Colorado is like having your soul lightly sandblasted. In a high wind it may be literal, but life here is just harsh enough to keep your spirit a little raw. While the subtle discomfort may be disregarded, you feel your environment more intensely. It’s inspirational, like nowhere else I’ve lived. The ever-present irritant of sand in the oyster creates the pearl.

My pearl was the inspiration to write. And one day, to understand what I loved so much about that summer here. Then to realize, too, that by practicing the little things that I appreciated so much, other people might learn how to heal in place, too.

Summer of the Phoenix is my story about that summer, how I coped, and how I turned my life around. Come along with me, and we’ll taste a sample….

The Secret Ingredient

The light changes as sunset approaches; the breeze stills. Shades of green in the field are touched with gold, then with salmon, before becoming dusky. The horizon far to the east turns from blue to blended watercolored bands of violet, salmon, and rose, fading upward to white, and reaching further upward to pale sky blue.

The waving fields of knee-high blue grama going to seed become still.

A Says Phoebe, quiet at this season of year, perches on a young Gravenstein apple tree, or on a leaning Autumn Blaze sapling now dead. Moths flit here and there. The phoebe darts out for a meal, and returns to its perch to dine before moving out of sight to another perch. He (or she) has been roosting, I think, in the little thicket of Rugosa roses outside the family room window.

It’s a soothing view, and I breathe deeply a few times and consciously relax.

As an exercise, I make a mental composite of the best bits of places I’ve lived, to imagine a place I might consider ideal.

The remoteness, the peace and quiet, the acreage of this place.

The love I felt for the home in which I was sheltered for the first thirteen years of my life. Surrounded by fields, woods, and a creek through which to roam and play, and by good friends and family, I had felt secure.

The creek, pond, and woods of the small farm where we lived when I was first married. Its little bird sanctuary along the pond outlet. There, trees overhung the little cliff east of the mound of shale and clay that had been dug and heaped up, many years before, to make the spring-fed pond.

The beauty, lushness, and fecundity of the farm on which we had lived in the hills of Pennsylvania. The dogwoods in spring bloom. The sandy beach at the swimming hole. Fresh trout. Raspberries. Wildlife and singing birds in abundance. Forest through which to wander and explore, and fields in which to grow gardens, crops, and fruit trees.

Put it all together, and set it on the shore of a small lake where I could have a little boat. A little wooden boat with a sail and a set of oars. The little boat would be moored at a wooden dock, patiently awaiting a still dawn, when I would take it out, beyond the majestic sheltering trees of the yard, to fish for breakfast trout.

I looked for a long time at my fields and trees, watching the light and colors change. I thought of times I’d spent among those trees and fields. I thought of that summer of 2002 when I had spent hour after hour, day after day in July watering those young trees. And it came to me that what I was doing now, in this moment, was what I had done all that summer: Savouring.

I was savouring my land and the trees I had planted and nurtured. I savoured the fields and the sky. The birds, the singing insects. I savoured Nature. I savoured Life. And I savoured Myself.

Then it struck me that that – the Savouring of Self, of Soul, of Nature, of Life, and of Spirit – was what made that year of 2002 so special. I had slowed down, taken a deep breath, and Savoured it all.

The sun has gone to bed, and a meadowlark sings to me his song, “Goodnight!”

****

Summer of the Phoenix is available on Amazon in Kindle eBook (https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KP927P4), black and white paperback (https://www.amazon.com/dp/0976323532 ), and color paperback (https://www.amazon.com/dp/0976323524 ).

PJ Paulson lives on a small ranch in rural Colorado with cats, dogs, and cattle. She has been described as a benign non-conformist who lives life on her own terms, and is not overly concerned with how humankind at large may judge that life path. This assessment is certainly borne out as she turns around her life in Summer of the Phoenix!