A Slow Burn

To say that I triple pink puffy heart Mary DeMuth's books would be an outright lie.

(How's that for an opener?)

I triple pink puffy heart her writing.
I triple pink puffy heart her ability to captivate me.
I triple pink puffy heart her bravery when writing.
I simply gasp in delight when I find out she has a new book out (when I can pick it up in a blog tour it's even better).
But I can't say, I love her books. And I hate that because they are so darn good.

She tackles issues that I wouldn't touch. I once tried to write an abortion into my novel and simply couldn't do it. Too much controversy. Too much pain. Mary? She tackles sexual abuse and bitterness (Watching the Tree Limbs), interracial relationships (Wishing on Dandelions), child abduction and domestic abuse (Daisy Chain), and drug abuse, infidelity, tiptoes around abortion, and again, interracial relationships (A Slow Burn). But the overriding theme in all her books is redemption. And that's why I keep going back. Life isn't full of pink puffy hearts, for the most part and reality can be ugly. But redemption? It's there--in Jesus. And, as usual, Mary didn't disappoint. A Slow Burn is full of suspense and full of love and full of story and full of redemption. But it sure takes until the final, final, final to get there. Here's hoping book three hurries itself out.

To see what other people think about Mary's latest book A Slow Burn check here.

Time

There are things I used to do that I really enjoyed.

I don't do any of them anymore.

When, WHEN, will I have time to be me again?

Don't tell me this is the new me.

I don't like the new me.

The War Within

Why is it that most of my desires are mutually exclusive?
Things that I want with all of my heart, but can't have both?
How can I know that this is meaningful and still search for meaning?

Restless

I have a curious longing today for college, where people treated me like I was smart and valuable.

Three Weddings & a Bar Mitzvah

Just this spring I found and read Melody Carlson's I Heart Bloomberg and took great enjoyment in reading about these four very different young ladies sharing space, so when I got my paws on Three Weddings & a Bar Mitzvah I was eager to see what else was in store. Imagine my confusion, then, when I couldn't figure out WHAT was going on. It was like we skipped months and plot lines.

Um, yeah. Two books worth. Oops.

But once I started, I figured I'd figure it out. I mostly did. Though I will have to make a run to my library and get the other two before long. I don't care for missed plot lines. (And thankfully the author isn't one of those that spends 3/4 of the book rehashing what came before.) I honestly think it would have been easier had I NOT read the first book, as I think this one would stand alone if I didn't have 1/4 of the plot floating around in the back of my brain.

But, just for giggles, here's the info on this one. But I would prefer to recommend the whole series of 86 Bloomberg Place if you like girlie, roommates that don't get along and then eventually do drama-drama-drama plot lines. Dad, that would not be you. And I'm guessing not Sir Not-A-Guy, OJ, and JL either.

Three Weddings and a Bar Mitzvah

In the final installment of the 86 Bloomberg Place series, a crazed competition

for bridesmaids, wedding locations, and showers takes center stage

In a wild combination of Desperate Housewives, Sex and the City, and Gilmore Girls—with all of the drama but none of the taboo—beloved author Melody Carlson offers readers her final installment in the 86 Bloomberg Place series, Three Weddings and a Bar Mitzvah (David C Cook, September 2009). Written in her well-known conversational, colloquial style, Carlson’s latest novel continues to follow four diverse young women, with varying levels of faith, differing interests, and unique personal issues, through the high dramas of their romantic lives.

The four-book 86 Bloomberg Place series offers an emotionally engaging look at the individual dilemmas of four unlikely female friends—Kendall, Lelani, Anna, and Megan—who share a small bungalow while launching their careers and maturing through difficult family situations and romantic relationships. Carlson’s unique ability to capture young women’s attitudes, voices, and heartfelt desires with meaningful storytelling keeps pace with the lives of her readers as she weaves varying perspectives and voices together with both humorous and poignant threads.

In Three Weddings and a Bar Mitzvah, Lelani has returned from Maui to Bloomberg Place with her toddler Emma and is trying to book her wedding date. Unfortunately, there are scheduling conflicts for that same weekend. For starters, Megan and Marcus have a family wedding commitment. Anna and Edmond have promised to attend his stepbrother’s Bar Mitzvah and, to everyone’s surprise, Kendall has just accepted her “Maui Man’s” proposal of marriage and also wants to be wed on that same weekend in June. Let the games begin!

To complicate matters, Lelani wants to keep her wedding simple, but Gil (the groom) has a Latina mama with other ideas. Meanwhile Kendall (the pregnant bride) wants to pull out all the stops on her wedding—and suddenly her absentee parents are on the scene. A crazed competition for bridesmaids, wedding locations, showers, attention, and a little peace and quiet takes over 86 Bloomberg Place. Yet at the same time, friendships are being forged that will last a lifetime.

With only two months to pull off both weddings (on the same day), the pressure is on, and the stress just might kill all promise of happily ever after. Are their friendships strong enough to weather the hassles and heartaches?

Three Weddings and a Bar Mitzvah by Melody Carlson

David C Cook/September 2009

ISBN: 978-1-5891-9108-2/softcover/320 pages/$14.99

www.davidccook.com www.melodycarlson.com

It's official.

I am OFFICIALLY frustrated that I am not an award winning writer.

Which I assume means I need to start writing again.

So that I can actually qualify as "writer" with or without the "award winning" qualifiers.

Happy Birthday to Me?

Lord help me, I do not know when I've had a crappier birthday than I did today.

And that includes my 10th when I had strep throat.

Pray for me. I'm in a wrestling match and I will be lucky to escape with only a limp.

You Were Born For This

His New York TimesThe Prayer of Jabez changed how millions pray. Now Bruce Wilkinson wants to change what they do next.

Anyone can do a good deed, but some good works can only happen by a direct intervention from God. Around the world these acts are called miracles—not that even religious people expect to see one any time soon. But what would happen if millions of ordinary people walked out each morning expecting God to deliver a miracle through them to a person in need? You Were Born for This starts with the dramatic premise that everyone at all times is in need of a miracle, and that God is ready to meet those needs supernaturally through ordinary people who are willing to learn the “protocol of heaven.”

In the straightforward, story-driven, highly motivating style for which he is known, Wilkinson describes how anyone can be a “Delivery Guy” from heaven in such universally significant arenas of life as finances, practical help, relationships, purpose, and spiritual growth.

You Were Born for This will change how readers see their world, and what they expect God can do through them to meet real needs. They will master seven simple tools of service, and come to say with confidence, “I want to deliver a supernatural gift from God to someone in need today—and I expect to!”

I have to admit, this book terrifies me. I have a comfort zone. It is creeping tighter around me by the day. This philosophy does NOT bode well for my parameters. I know he's right (if not a little formulaic). We are God's instruments. Delivery people. Whatever. But I do not know how to do what I know I should do (even though he so clearly gives the "keys").

This is going to take a lot of work.

Books that make me work, make me strip off my self...I'm sure I'll be grateful eventually.

Boy-Sterous Living

If you've read my blog for long, you probably know my feelings about mothers of boys. As in, mothers of boys are a different creature than mothers of girls, even if the mothers of boys HAVE girls. It is even more apparent when the mothers of boys have boys first (b/c mothers of girls that have A boy somewhere in the middle still see life differently). Yes they are generalizations, and yes someone will be the exception, and no, I'm not singling anyone out, HOWEVER the trend (as I see it) is there. We can find one another in the crowd. We are usually marked by the blood smear on our shirt and we're the ones sitting on the sidelines calling out to our wresting sons, "Privates are off limits mister. I don't care how goofy it looks on America's Funniest Home Videos! Dude, you totally deserved that kick to the chin; I saw you bite his ankle!" Well that, and our sons are the ones wrestling...and our daughters have potentially jumped into the fray.

So there was this book I was going to write. It was going to talk about the wonder of what it means to be a mother of boys and the joys and [smell] honor and responsibility that incurs. My book began with a popped light bulb. (For you mother's of daughters, that is how you describe the phenomenon that occurs when a son jumps off the top of the refrigerator (Oh, I kid. It was the table...or was it the stove? I was in the basement and only heard the thud and the hearsay) and the light in the basement actually explodes and is rendered dead in the socket.) I'm not sure how my book was going to end. Hopefully with the boys surviving until college. But I won't know, either, because Jean Blackmer wrote it before I could get the light bulbs replaced and write it myself. And if you are a mother of boys (even if it is only one and he's surrounded with seven sisters) this book is a valuable resource.

About the book: Raising boys isn't easy. Life with them is loud. If it's quiet, they're probably up to something. Boys are messy, competitive, fearless, and proud. Living with them pretty much guarantees that you're in for an adventure.

In Boy-sterous Living, Jean shares a few of the priceless stories and laugh-out-loud lessons that she and her boys have experienced over the years. With humorous insight and practical advice, she offers encouragement and ideas to help both mothers and fathers impact and shape the lives of their sons. From understanding their love of sports to overcoming the superman complex, Jean shows moms how to find joy and contentment in everyday life by celebrating the laughter, passion, noise, and endless energy boys bring to our lives.

About the author: Jean is currently the Publishing Manager for MOPS International and she's been free-lance writing for 16 years. She has been published in a variety of local and national publications, including: Guideposts, MomSense, Today's Christian Woman, Christian Parenting Today, American Girl, Proverbs 31 Woman, Chicken Soup for the Mother and Son Soul, Chicken Soup Cookbook for the Busy Mom's Soul, Focus on the Family's Teen Phases, Guideposts Miracle Series, and others.

She also co-authored her first book, Where Women Walked: Powerful True Stories of Women's Perseverance and God's Provision. (Tyndale/Focus on the Family, 2004) This book was nominated for a Gold Medallion Award.

Jean graduated from the University of Colorado in Boulder with a Bachelor's (1987) and a Master's (1992) degree in Journalism. She lives in Boulder with her husband Zane; three boys, Josh, Jordan, and Jake.

Find out more about Jean here!

CONTEST: Enter your grossest or funniest moment as a mom of a boy (No boys? That’s okay – we still want to hear your story!) and you could win movie tickets and a snack for you and a friend to escape! Share your story by emailing your entry to amy@litfusegroup.com or posting it on the Moms of Boys facebook page!

And if you want to know what other people are saying about Boy-Sterous Living, check here.

Christianish

I've spent the last year or so rather disgruntled with The Church. Not MY church, per se, but The Church in general. Her people. Myself. Or, more clearly stated, I'm tired. Tired of the front. Tired of my flashes of rage and moments of pure selfishness. Tired of being surrounded by people that "have it all together." Tired of not being able to confess my sins one to another for fear of what that another will think. Tired of hoping someone else will fail so I won't be alone in my failure. Tired of being caught by my agnostic (at best) neighbor doing anything he perceives as unChristian. Tired of the altercation that inevitably follows. I'm tired of being a hypocrite. And you know that is what my neighbor thinks I am. Because Christians, in general, have a bad name. Somehow we've given the world the misconception that we are perfect. Or that we at least think we are. Or think that they think we are. And they can't wait to prove that we aren't perfect, because if they can prove that wrong, the rest of what we profess is a lie. (Or so I've come to understand the "dark side" believes whether that is what we believe or not.)

We put on a front. We smile and act nice. Some of us even are nice. We want to win over our crotchety neighbors that love to incite us to anger and then use that anger as proof that they would never want to join OUR club. But who wants to join up with a bunch of people who won't admit that life is sometimes ugly?

Anyway, when I read the description for Christianish; What if We're Not Really Following Jesus At All? I had to see if Mark Steele had any wisdom for me and my dilemma.

Back Cover Copy:

Rediscover what it means to live like Christ and ditch the ish.

Somewhere between cold faith and hot pursuit lies lukewarm spirituality. And in the media between the wide path and the narrow road we find the middle ground of the spiritual walk. It’s something not quite Christian. More like…Christianish.

Christianish tells the story of one man’s journey to move from the in-between to a life centered on Christ. To move forward, author Mark Steele goes back to the beginning, to examine Christ’s life and words. Through stories and insights that are sometimes profound, often hilarious, and always honest, Mark delivers a compelling look at what our faith is all about.

(I'm back) And that copy doesn't even do the book justice. I rather expected dry reading and the first page (of the prologue, no less) left me gasping for air. This guy is hilarious. He opens the chapters with vignettes from his life that, gracious, who can tell stories like that? And then whamo! Smacks you upside the head with a figurative two by four of truth. Seriously, there are so many underlined passages in my book, I may as well just re-read the whole thing.

One of my favorites?: "...we cannot truly exemplify godliness until we shut up." [! *] (pg 103, top paragraph)

Oh, but what stemmed my rambling opening came from page 45, top paragraph. Oh, it's gooooood.

Indeed.

(that was your teaser)

Every now and then I come across a book I would like to go through with people. This is one. Anyone wanna?

Oh, the Horror!

I saw my doctor today. The read deal. The Doctor. Not a PA. Not a Nurse Practitioner. THE doctor.

I figure I go to the doctor once a year and, by golly, I am going to see a doctor, even if I do have to schedule myself three and a half months out.

As, as I have mentioned, I insist upon seeing the Doctor (MD, that is), and, as I have mentioned, I only see him once a year (and usually a little more than that as I forget that I have to schedule three months out and sometimes my schedule conflicts with my schedule once the three months is up and I have to reschedule--three months out), I save up all my woes for the year to ask him about.

Like the moles on my back that my chiropractor called "suspicious."
Like the fact that my vision has done some random fuzzy, blurry, tunnel vision, woozy things.
Like the burning in my stomach that sometimes grows to pain of such ferocity that not only can I not sleep (did that double negative there?), I can't even lie down and must rock back and forth on all fours and then prowl about the house at 3AM when others in the house are trying to sleep.
Like the high blood pressure???! (what?)

Didn't know about the last one until my appt. this morning. And most of you would consider my blood pressure "normal" but I assure you that for a woman who can be five days overdue and in labor and still have a blood pressure of 98/63, 130/78 is HIGH.

What the heck?

Guess what he told me?

Coffee.

(bleep)

My mom asked, "Is there anything WORSE he could have told you?"

Well, I'm sure there was, but under the circumstances, I'm having a hard time thinking of what that might be. (no lectures, I know, nothing is malignant, I'll live until I'm 90---if I give up the coffee---but GAH!)

Which brings me to the book I read this week, TOTALLY FOR FUN, which extrapolates on the joy of coffee. Let me give you a few nuggets from The God Cookie:

"'If you drink enough coffee, you can forget to eat for roughly two days before your eyes roll up in your head and you collapse into a twitching heap.'"

Does that sound like blurred tunnel vision? This sentence would resonate with me for a reason, that's for sure.

And this: "'I always wanted to help humanity through the caffeine arts.'"

Followed by this: "'They sip, that tension between their eyes releases, their eyebrows come to life. You see the happy blinking after the first blush of caffeine rises to their cheeks and they can face the day, a productive, caffeinated human being.'"

He's been spying on me, I tell you!

Seriously, though goofy, this book was also meaty. I loved this: "What if he'd never risked anything, never put anything on the table but always expected God to play? Hadn't he treated God, often as not, more like a magic dispenser than a fellow player at a game of cards?"

Ouch.

Anyhoo, I discovered Geoffrey Wood when he wrote Leaper which is a fabulous Unbreakable-meets-Jumper-meets-GOD off-the-wall extraordinarily fun and awesome read (deep breath) and when I saw The God Cookie (and I've waited FAR TOO LONG for another by this guy--it's been like two years, dude (Um, however it has apparently been out since February, but don't read that the wrong way. I just got it last week. I'm slow on the uptake of new releases if I don't see them on a review list.)) I snatched and coveted and snarfed it down in a satisfying, can't-get-anything-done-I'm-readin' kinda bibliofile gluttonous feast.

And if you're into that kind of thing, you won't want to miss, well, frankly, either of them.

Even if you don't like coffee. You crazy person, you.

(Look at that! Leaper is only a penny. A PENNY people! That is wrong on so many levels.)

Again!

I just did it again!

Somebody put away the chips!

Unbelievable.

Mindless

I'd already shoved a handful of chips into my mouth that I didn't want and was on my way to the second handful before I even thought about what I was doing.

What is it about an open bag of chips on the table that demands to be consumed?

Musta been a lot of MSG in that bag to call me like that.

Eyes...where?

Last night Frodo told me, "Mom, you don't just have eyes in the back of your head, you have eyes in the back of my brain!"

In other words, I'm a mind reader.

Why, yes, yes I am, and don't you forget it!

My Guilty Little Pleasure

I confess that I am enjoying guilty pleasure with the new torture devices that now reside in my basement.

(shaddup you dirty little minds)

Hubs and I are now the proud (or rather blushing with shame) owners of a Bowflex and a Bowflex treadclimber.

For as long as I have known my husband, he has wanted a Bowflex. And late at night when I happen across the infomercials, I have wanted a treadclimber. And Saturday, I happened across a garage sale where the guy offered me a deal I couldn't refuse on the pair of them.

Guilt because you KNOW you don't use exercise equipment, or most people don't after the third week of January. Pleasure because for the next three weeks I can delude myself into believing that this WILL make a difference in my fitness level this winter. And every time I descend the stairs (and I've done that muchly today as I did laundry loads innumberable) I see them and grin.

I feel so smart. It's the gatherer in me. Look what I found for you, dear!

As I type, my hunny is going through his workout and if HE feels better, it was worth it. And I promised myself that I wouldn't go through another winter without a treadmill so now I have no excuses.

So there you have my guilty little secret. Here's to wishful thinking.

I pray I'm not going to feel like an idiot in February when clothes are hanging off of it and I can't pay someone to take the eyesores away.

So much to say

and yet, when I have so much to say, I can't think of anything to say, because I can't boil it down to a little blog blat.

I'm frantically sweeping up dust that just resettles as soon as I've cleaned it off a surface.

I'm washing sheets and blankets and pillows.

All of my machines are running (this is a good thing considering I wasn't sure I'd be able to get them going tonight due to exhaustion).

The work will never end.

Charming hasn't been.

The Tiny Tyrant strikes again.

Which, I suppose means he's been acting healthy.

This is a good thing.

I'm checking things off my to-do list.

I'm adding them faster than I'm checking them off.

But I PROMISE I will try to be interesting here again really soon.

I may even post photos.

Sweet Waters by Julie Carobini

My blog pal, Julie Carobini, can always be counted on for a good "beach read" so you can imagine my puzzlement when her latest book started in....Missouri? (And what's with that, anyway, Jules? At least spring for Kansas if you're gonna go for land-locked hick-chick, huh? Wait, never mind.)

Thankfully, by chapter four we were winging our way to the ocean. Otter Bay, CA, in fact. Not that I have a CLUE where that is in the whole scheme of CA (guessing north of LA and south of Oregon), but now I want to visit. So for all you land locked souls, and those just hankering for some beach, here's a great little read for ya.

(back cover copy)
What happens when the fairy tale turns out to be a soap opera?

Tara Sweet is nothing if not sensible. Usually. But her engagement is off, and her mother--yes, mother--is newly married and gallivanting around Europe. It's time for a change. So she convinces her sisters to honor their father's final wish and rediscover the fairy-tale life they knew in Otter Bay, California. But Tara discovers fairy tales are fragile--and truth is often one ugly layer after another of secrets, accusation, rumor, and a past an entire church wants to forget.

Firefighter Josh Adams knows all about battling personal demons. He's been doing so ever since a woman nearly died in his arms. Actually, long before...

As the turbulence in their lives grows, Tara and Josh find themselves at odds with their families, their faith, the townspeople of Otter Bay--and each other. Only in facing the lies from the past can they find the truth.

And only in finding the truth can they be set free.

Scared

The following is from a press release, but if you know me personally, you know my passion for the orphan. I hope you find the following worthy of your read time. -Chaos

The new movie Orphan takes a look at a family adopting a little girl from Russia who is not what she seems. While the movie attempts to entertain the masses with horror, around the world, orphans are facing horrendous conditions unlike anything Hollywood could produce. Tom Davis, CEO and President of Children’s HopeChest, is passionately working to alert the public about the real plight of orphans around the world.

Two weeks ago, Orphan, or as the Washington Post referred to it, a "depraved, worthless piece of filth...a high-gloss horror show about a well-meaning couple who bring home a 9-year-old girl to join their family, only to discover, way too late, that she's a homicidal psychopath" was released in theaters. The widespread criticism of Orphan is showing up in both the mainstream media (New York Times, New York Times 2) and also in Christian news sources as well. (See Orphans Deserve Better)

Children’s HopeChest CEO Tom Davis says, “The true horror, as pointed out by the Orphans Deserve Better site, is not the Hollywood over-hyped stereotype of an adoption gone homicidally off the rails. There's ample evidence on both sides of the older orphan adoption discussion, and I think all would agree that this movie doesn't help the 150 million children without families. That's the real horror. If you want a good horror story about orphans, I've got plenty that will turn your stomach and wrench your heart. Imagine, for a moment, the impact that the film's producers could have had by investing the film's budget in cleaning up some of the real horrors facing orphaned kids today.”

Children’s HopeChest was founded in 1994 by helping orphans in Russia. After the fall of communism, nothing was being done to help the millions of children who were institutionalized by the state. Most of the children were kicked out at fifteen or sixteen and they didn’t have the ability to survive. In fact, 70% of the girls ended up in prostitution. The idea of Hopechest is to help these kinds of kids have the chance at the kind of life a family kid would have. “We help to meet the same needs for orphans that you and I would meet for our own children - food and clothing, but also loving relationships, medical care, and perhaps most important, an education. We also specialize in helping kids make the transition out of orphanages and into young adulthood,” states Davis.

The United Nations estimates the world orphan population to be over 143 million children. Poverty, war, disease, and AIDS are the primary enemies of children across the globe, leaving those who are robbed of their parents at-risk for criminal behavior, prostitution, drug abuse, alcoholism, and suicide. Davis offers readers a sweeping narrative that explores these most critical social concerns in his debut novel. Scared: A Novel on the Edge of the World (June 2009/David C Cook) delves into the lives of a photojournalist struggling to redeem his past and an African orphan fighting for survival. Davis’ book is based real situations he has witnessed while working with orphans in Africa.

In Scared, Davis, also the author of Red Letters and Fields of the Fatherless, weaves a beautiful story of redemption that takes place in a world far away from our own. Readers will discover, along with Stuart, that, “Sorrow is a part of life, but our tears can leave us with clearer sight, if we look to God.” True “fiction with a conscience,” Davis’ novel is the first in a planned series of three. Narrated in the first person by both Stuart and Adanna, Scared offers a unique perspective on the tragedies taking place in Africa today and encourages readers to step out and help the “least of these.”

In coordination with the release of his book, Davis and Children’s HopeChest have developed the Scared $1 Million Education Fund and Writing Contest. The contest was launched June and is open to high-school aged orphans who are presently connected with HopeChest carepoints in Swaziland. Entries will be received in three categories: short story, poetry, and personal essay/memoir. The grand prize for each category is a university scholarship, and runner-up submissions will receive other prizes appropriate to their culture and need.

House Renovation

eeeeGAD, we're over budget on the house reno.

Note to self: Self, don't fool yourself into believing that you've bought the expensive part when you've brought home the tile. Oh, no. Your expense is in all the little crap under the tile and between the tile and the hands laying the tile and those little plastic gizzies that space the tile and the rotten floorboards that should have been under the tile, but are now replaced with shiny new boards and oh, mercy, we haven't even seen the labor bill yet.

I keep telling myself that cleaning smutz out of every nook and crannie and off every flat surface will be worth it, but I'm starting to second guess myself.

The best laid plans and all that.

And all you relative that are reading this and reporting back to the men? Don't. A woman needs to have a meltdown every now and then without getting caught.

Speaking of relatives, you know you are comfortable with a person when you do your whole pretty prep for church with him laying tile 18 inches away. I guess that comes with sharing a bathroom for a MONTH. I have to triple check that no one is in the room with me when I'm changing anymore because there is always someone coming in or out and I've plumb tuned it out.

And, dang it, I just brewed a pot of coffee that I meant to push the button on in the AM.

I'm tired.

What is This?

If I could find the cords to hook my camera to my computer, we'd play the What Is It? Game.

I don't.

Suffice it to say, you don't want to know what is in the trap beneath your bathroom sink. There may be hair, there may be sand, there may be rocks and seashells, there is probably muck and mold. But did you know there could also be a sucker stick? Did you know the pipe could be so full you don't know how water can get through? Did you know it could be so full as to make the pipe rigid enough to snap in two?

Betcha didn't know that.

Or maybe you did....Dad.