Time for Plan B

(Kerrville, TX) – From the beginning of time women have dreamt about their “Plan A” - the perfect husband, cute children, immaculate home, size six wardrobe, prestigious job, fabulous friends. But it doesn’t take much of real life to set in before compromises, changes and disappointments manage to cloud those dreams. The Plan A Woman in a Plan B World: What to Do When Life Doesn’t Go According to Plan encourages women to re-evaluate the Plan B route and discover the blessings of God’s Plan A.   Using nine landmines that often claim the God-given plan for women, author/speaker Debbie Taylor Williams helps women reclaim hope and teaches them how to manage those sabotaging thoughts that claim many minds. Sprinkled with humor, an obvious love for God’s Word, and discussion starters for small group study, The Plan A Woman promises to help woman believe that God does have special plans for her, even in this Plan B world.

Author Debbie Taylor Williams   About the Author:   Debbie Taylor Williams is the founder of Hill Country Ministries, an organization dedicated to spreading God’s Word and ministering to women. Best known as a passionate biblical expositor, Debbie uses humor and practical illustrations to communicate spiritual truths to women throughout the nation. She is the author of Pray with Purpose, Live with Passion, Prayers of My Heart, and other books. She and her husband make their home in Kerrville, Texas. Learn more by visiting her popular Web site: www.debbietaylorwilliams.com

Interview Questions:   1. Your book focuses on living the Plan A life God designed specifically for you. What encouragement can you give for the woman who feels she's lived far too long on Plan B? Is there hope? With God nothing is impossible!  The Spirit who moved over the surface of the deep and created light and life is the same Spirit who abides in every believer.  We can live the Plan A life God has for us because Christ lives in us and He is our hope of glory. Col 1:2    2. In your book you talk about hazardous landmines. What are a few common landmines women fall into?   Bitterness, discouragement, being fixated on the past, fear, feeling shaken by our circumstances, having expectations of how others should act are but a few of the land mines we can experience in a Plan B world. Left unattended, these land mines can cause devastating harm to us and others.  God's Plan A is not for us to ignore these land mines, nor is it His plan for us to tip toe around them. Rather, He directs us to address and de-mine them.  When we do, we can walk in bold assurance, confident of the ground upon which we walk. We're able to carry out the good works and plans God has for us; those that bring purpose and joy.    3. Talk about your P.R.A.Y. conferences and how women can learn more about your prayer ministry.   April 2, 2008 God woke me up at 4 a.m. and told me that I wasn't doing all that He wanted me to do. He then directed me to one of His Plans for my life:  to take the principles from my book, Pray with Purpose — Live with Passion, to a church in every state in the United States. He told me to waive my speaking fee and travel expenses; that He had freely given me the keys to prayer that can change women's lives; and that I was to freely take them to my sisters. P.R.A.Y. with Passion Conference was birthed as a ministry of my non-profit ministry. It has been a joy to see God powerfully open doors through women who hear about the conference and pass the word to their women's ministry leader or event planner. Women are coming to salvation.  Spiritual breakthroughs and repentance is taking place among believers. A "pink hearts" club is spreading across America, one composed of women and men who come forward and receive a heart on which they write how God has spoken to their hearts. And God is speaking. If I haven't been to your church/state, contact lauren@debbietaylorwilliams.com ministries, call toll free 888.815.9412, or visit my web site for more information www.debbietaylorwilliams.com    4. In your spare time, what do you enjoy doing?   I love being with my husband. Whether we go for a walk, watch the sunset, take a hike in the country, travel, play golf (sort of...I'm a beginner :), or go for a drive and breakfast on Saturday mornings, he's my honi and love of 35 years. Our two adult children and their spouses are so much fun to be with; as is our 17 month old grandson. Family, friends, sharing the Lord - for what more could we ask?

Say What?

Me: Ooooooo, Princess, I've hurt myself. Ooooooh, my back.

Princess: Do you need to go to the hypochondriac?

What do you think she's saying? (Upon further questioning, she did mean chiropractor, but I'm still not so sure...)

Really? Rompers?

What are we? Five?

And that's all I have to say about that. Because some fashionable person or other I know will surely wear one this summer.

Sigh.

What am I? 34 or 67?

Shed A Little Light on the Subject

Don't you just hate it when what seems like such a do-able idea on a long stretch of dark highway looks so impossible with the sunrise and a good night's sleep?

Add 24 more hours and you wonder why you ever considered such a thing.

But are still drawn to the idea in ways greater than you have felt in a very long time.

They Amlost Always Come Home

(Wausau, WI) – At the foundation of each relationship resides the need to know love can survive even when feelings fade. In Cynthia Ruchti’s debut novel, They Almost Always Come Home, readers feel the desperation of this foundational yearning in a marriage clearly pulling loose from its moorings. Compounded by other issues—an unrewarding career and mismatched dreams—it’s enough to drive a man into the arms of the Canadian wilderness. When Greg Holden doesn’t return home from a wilderness canoe trip, his wife Libby wrestles with survivor guilt, a new layer of grief, and the belief that she was supposed to know how to fix her marriage. She planned to leave him—but how can she leave a man who’s no longer there? He was supposed to go fishing, not missing.   Libby has to find him before she can discover how their marriage ends. She plunges into the wilderness on an adventurous and risky manhunt, unsure what she will do if she finds him…or if she doesn’t. She expects to meet hardship, discomfort, and danger in the wilderness. She doesn’t expect to face the stark reality of her spiritual longing and a faint, but steady pulse that promises hope for reviving her marriage. If Greg’s still alive.   They Almost Always Come Home provides a glimpse into common, however uncomfortable, marital conflicts. Cynthia weaves a page-turning story, suspense building scene by scene. Her characters mirror ordinary people, living real-to-life situations, allowing readers to relate and sort through a myriad of emotions and life decisions. If fiction can contain adventure, riveting self-awareness, and romance all between the same covers, this is the book!

Cynthia Ruchti writes stories of “hope that glows in the dark.” She writes and produces The Heartbeat of the Home, a syndicated drama/devotional radio broadcast, and is editor for the ministry’s Backyard Friends magazine. She also serves as current president of American Christian Fiction Writers. Cynthia married her childhood sweetheart, who tells his own tales of wilderness adventures.

The Interview:   1. How would you describe your book?   The tagline for the book is “She’d leave her husband…if she could find him.”   When Libby’s husband Greg doesn’t return from a two-week canoe trip to the Canadian wilderness, the authorities write off his disappearance as an unhappy husband’s escape from an oatmeal marriage and mind-numbing career. Their marriage might have survived if their daughter Lacey hadn’t died and if Greg hadn’t been responsible. Libby enlists the aid of her wilderness-savvy father-in-law and her faith-walking best friend to help her search for clues to her husband’s disappearance. What the trio discovers in the wilderness search upends Libby’s assumptions about her husband and rearranges her faith.      It’s my prayer that this fictional adventure story and emotional journey will reveal its own hope-laden clues for those struggling to survive or longing to exit what they believe are uninspiring marriages. How can a woman survive a season or a lifetime when she finds it difficult to like the man she loves?   2. How were you different as a writer and as a person when you finished writing They Almost  Always Come Home?   This book changed me in a profound way. It forced me to take a more honest look at myself and my reactions to crises so I could write Libby’s character with authenticity. Libby is a composite of many women. I haven’t experienced what she did, but I identify with some of her struggles and longings, as I hope my readers will. I see my friends in her eyes and know that her tears aren’t hers alone. Her shining moments feed my courage. Libby speaks for me and for many others when she discovers that she is stronger than she realized and weaker than she wanted to admit.   Writing her story was a journey for the author as much as for the character.   3. What did you feel the tug on your heart to become a writer?   My journey toward a lifetime of writing began by reading books that stirred me, changed me, convinced me that imagination is a gift from an imaginative Creator. As a child, I read when I should have been sleeping…and still do. I couldn’t wait for the BookMobile (library on wheels) to pull up in front of the post office in our small town and open its arms to me. Somewhere between the pages of a book, my heart warmed to the idea that one day I too might tell stories that made readers stay up past their bedtimes.   4. What books line your bookshelves? My bookshelves—don’t ask how many!—hold a wide variety of genres. The collection expands faster than a good yeast dough. I’m a mood reader, grabbing a light comedy one day and a literarily rich work the next. Although I appreciate well-written nonfiction, I gravitate toward an emotionally engaging contemporary women’s fiction story.

Somthing Extra From the Author's Heart     Ten years ago, my husband almost didn’t come home. His canoe adventure with our son Matt soured on Day Two when Bill grew violently ill from what we presume was either pancreatitis or a gall bladder attack. He’s an insulin-dependent diabetic, so any grave illness is a threat. One in the middle of the Canadian wilderness is morgue material.   With no satellite phone with which to call for help, Matt took turns caring for his father and watching the shore for other canoeists happening past their hastily constructed campsite. The few other canoes were headed deeper into the remote areas of the park, not on their way out. None had a satellite phone. And none of them were doctors.   As my husband grew sicker, his diabetes went nuclear. He couldn’t eat, yet needed insulin because his liver thought it should help out by dumping vast quantities of sugar into his system. Even in a hospital setting, the situation would have been difficult to control, and the nearest hospital was light years away across vast stretches of water and woodland, through peopleless, roadless wilderness.   Our son stretched a yellow tarp across the rocks on shore and wrote S.O.S. with charcoal from a dead fire. He scratched out countless notes on pieces of notebook paper torn from their trip journal:   Send rescue! My dad is deathly ill.     Read the rest of the story at the KCWC BLOG (Pssst: link through, it's worth it!)  Leave a comment here (or there, I think, or any of the other tour stops) for a chance to win.

Blog Tour Giveaway Includes:   North Pak 20 inch cinch sack (lime) Day Runner journal Canoe Brand wild rice Canada's brand blueberry jam Coleman 60-piece mini first aid kit Wood canoe/paddle shelf ornament Six original photography notecards from video trailer "Hope" hanging ornament Mini Coleman "lantern" prayer reminder

Max and Ruby

Eldest is humored that Charming thinks Eldest is "Ruby" of Max and Ruby fame. I suppose this is funny because Ruby is a girl. But Ruby is also controlling and bossy (in a loving eldest sibling kind of way). I think it fits. And I told him so.

I think we'll go berry picking today. How sad is it that in order to connect with nature in the city, you have to pay MORE money per pound to PICK YOU OWN berries and we drive 30 miles to do so?

Grandma would be horrified. (See below)

Money saving tips

It's a bit irreverent, but funny.

This girl (me) is doing her darndest to get out of debt, but neither do I wish to become this woman's grandma. Sometimes a happy medium is A-OK.

Tip: Cottonelle 1 ply. Happy medium. ;)

Charming and his CARS obsession

This week it's all the blue ones. He's hauling around Dinoco Lightning, Dinoco Chick, and Dinoco King. Lightning and Chick were probably Dinoco for a sum total of 15 seconds of the entire movie...that came out before he was born.

The Last Christian

W. O. W.

First, I should make it very clear that I am a big fan of apocalyptic/futuristic type stories. I loved Alas, Babylon. Brave New World. The Foundation Series. Gattaca. I Robot. I may be able to go on ad-nauseum. (I know, ME, WWII girl.) So, I admit, stories that put me far enough into the future to make their science (or lack thereof) just that side of freakishly wierd, but close enough to What Could Happen if things stay on their current course, intrigue me. That said...

Wow.

So The Last Christian takes you eighty years into the future where science has hit the vertical line in the learning curve and changes and "improvements" are taking place overnight. God has been virtually (no pun intended) replaced with Virtual Reality and the almighty human improvement brain implants. Truth is relative. Sin, as far as people are concerned, is so foreign as to be inexplicable.

I tell you what; this book is absolutely phenomenal. Not only was the story line fascinating the theology was as well. We, who live in our current world, know how hard it has become to explain sin and faith to a generation raised on tolerance. People today are living so frantically, manic, chasing the everything goes philosophy, it isn't a hard leap to know exactly what David Gregory is getting at. And his new angle to presenting the gospel has me intrigued enough that I think I will have to pick up his other book, The Rest of the Gospel: When the Partial Gospel Has Worn You Out (co-authored by Dan Stone, and apparently "Greg Smith" which I think is a pen name...? Clearly I haven't read this one yet.). 

Anyway, if you like futuristic/apocalyptic stories, I have a feeling you will love this.

Back Cover Copy:
A.D. 2088 Missionary daughter Abigail Caldwell emerges from the jungle for the first time in her thirty-four years, the sole survivor of a mysterious disease that killed her village. Abby goes to America, only to discover a nation where Christianity  has completely died out. A curious message from her grandfather assigns her a surprising mission: re-introduce the Christian faith in America, no matter how insurmountable the odds.

But a larger threat looms. The world's leading artificial intelligence industrialist has perfected a technique for downloading the human brain into a silicon form. Brain transplants have begun, and with them comes the potential of eliminating physical death altogether--but at what expense?

As Abby navigates a society grown more addicted to stimulating the body than nurturing the soul, she and Craighton Daniels, a historian troubled by his father's unexpected death, become unwitting targets of powerful men who will stop at nothing to further their nefarious goals. Hanging in the balance--the spirutual future of all humanity.

In this fast-paced thriller, startling near-future science collides with thought-provoking religious themes to create a spell-binding "what-if?" novel.

Jessica's "Daily Affirmation"

May 18, 1996

This day I married my friend.

My best friend.

It's kinda cliche, I know that, but oh, so true.

If you aren't marrying your best friend, you ought not be getting married.

Period.

I've been scampering around, fetching for him for three weeks now as he hobbles around on a broken foot. That he broke doing something that I don't enjoy being abandoned for him to do. Now I have to wait on him hand and foot. I got more than a little grumpy about it there for a few days. After the first three hours the thank yous ran out. I found that thank yous keep me going. A person who shall remain nameless brought my wedding vows into it. "In sickness and in health." (I'm not certain we used that line, by the way, but we probably did. My specific vows had more to do with "encouraging all you are as an individual." That I do remember.) As I told friends a couple days later, "I didn't promise I'd do it with a good attitude. All I promised was that I'd stay married. I have." Later, I told them it was the thank yous that were missing and messing me up. Since I told them, I told him. "Not every time, but a couple times a day would be nice." He has. Guess who is less crabby?

Communication.

You do that with friends.

Happy anniversary, Gimpy. Love you.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

"I eat a-gusting green stuff, I have [candy]bar? OK. I eat a-gusting green fings."

FYI, he took one more bite and decided even the peanut butter cup wasn't worth it.

The Reason Why I Love Yard Work

I’ve figured out why I love working in the yard. I can spend the entire day spinning my wheels inside cleaning one room while Charming messes up another, or needs to go potty, or change another set of clothes, or get something to eat. I can make cookies and a lasagna and serve it for supper. Scrape the dishes into the washer and head outside. 

In two hours time, while my kids are jumping on the trampoline, I can mow the lawn, plant a hydrangea, transplant three hostas (my neighbor cut down a couple trees, so now the “shade garden” is quite sunny) and plant two knock-out rose bushes. I can get in a visit with my neighbor and breathe fresh air. My entire yard looks better no matter from which direction you drive so the first impression is of a loved home.

And then I step in the door, trip over cars and three pair of underwear and notice the watermelon bowl is still on the table along with the chunks of lasagna that somehow misplaced themselves, and realize the dishwasher hasn’t been started and milk was spilled all over the kitchen floor and inappropriately cleaned up….

AND STILL FEEL LIKE I DID SOMETHING OF VALUE FOR THE DAY.

The garden center is my therapy. It costs about as much as Lexapro, but it works wonders without the nausea.

In the Continuing Saga that is the cat and animals in general

One minute (or evening) I'm snapping my husband's head off saying things like, "I HATE THIS CAT AND I RESENT THAT I (of all people) HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF HER! I NEVER WANTED A CAT! I HAVE ENOUGH PEOPLE AROUND HERE TO TAKE CARE OF!"

The next (afternoon) I'm chasing the big bully black and white cat off my porch screaming, "LEAVE MY CAT ALONE, YOU BIG BULLY, BEFORE I FIND OUT WHERE YOU LIVE AND HAVE YOU TAKEN OUT!"

Apparently I do like her enough that I don't want her picked upon and as long as she isn't knocking on the back door, just to make sure I am available to open it for her just in case she should want in (but probably doesn't).

Confessions

So, we joined a gym. I didn't admit that for a long time. That was a big confession. It seems like an extravagance and it doesn't make sense. WHY would we pay MONEY to DRIVE across town to work out when we have plenty of equipment in this house to keep us sweating 24 hours a day and not repeat a single exercise? Why, I ask?

Turns out that when you pay money, you want to get your money's worth.

That, and the gym is rather like going to a resort. I kid you not. It's clean. It smells nice. The people act like they're happy to see you (even if they aren't, I'm sure, but I can't tell, yet). There's a spa (that I haven't used). There's a cafe (that I have). They sell clothes. And healthy stuff. And they have DAYCARE.

You know why I don't do aerobics at home? Inevitably I'm stepping on someone who suddenly NEEDS to be held even if they were happily playing away in the other room when I started.

Here's the thing: I feel stronger. I feel better. When I hurt, it's a good hurt 99.3% of the time. I DID something. It's good. It's empowering. I went from weenie girl who couldn't hold a downward facing dog to a woman who can go into crow pose. In EIGHT WEEKS. It's fabulous.

Confession two and the reason I'm writing (in an effort to confess ye your sins one to another): We joined the club before they opened their doors. Which meant they had to keep us interested until they did open. Which means they called and had us in for free health assessments and stuff. (I told the guy who called, "What, so you can tell me I'm out of shape? Why do you think we joined the gym? We know this already.") But I went in for my assessment because he told me I had to.

I let people push me around back when I was weenie girl.

The thing is, when I filled out the assessment and talked with the trainer I said things like, "I'm OK with this weight as long as it's muscle."

I LIED.

I didn't think I lied. Really and truly. But she told me that even if I was solid muscle, I would probably lose at least five pounds. Certainly before I put it back on in muscle--if I chose to get that beefy. And I believed her. Who doesn't want to lose five pounds? I'm the heaviest I've ever been (not counting pregnancy and immediately following) so I know that the five pound loss would be feasible.

Really, not the point.

The thing is (I think this time, I'll really get to the thing that is), just before we started going to the gym, I drank all the soda I wanted, all the fatty coffee drinks I wanted, ate all the chips I wanted (which, of course, is the reason for the aforementioned weight increase) . Once we started going to the gym and making our bodies hurt all the time and training myself to RUN in addition to adding flexibility (and nearly passing out in kickboxing), we also gave up soda (for the most part) and all those other fatty things.

So I'm going to make my confession right here and now, and this is the one I've been working up to: If I'm not going to lose weight when I'm exercising more than I have in years and eating healthier than I have in years...tell me why I'm doing this? I have to admit that the drive to not drink Pepsi is fading, and rapidly.

Hubs told me eight weeks ago that we need to quit thinking of it as giving something up, but gaining something better (a healthy lifestyle) which worked really well for eight weeks as HE dropped 13 pounds, but as I've not so much as lost an OUNCE and have even fluxuated up a time or two, well, hmmmm, the Pepsi, she's a callin'.

I'm still digging the exercise part, but the self-denial? I'm gonna have to dig pretty deep on that one.

Just in case

I'm having a panic attack that someone who links over here from Temple Transformation will read the following post and wonder how such a snitchy person could be worth linking to from such a great post. I'd love to say something holy right now to throw you off but I've got nuthin' but an Amen to my sister.

Dream a big dream! 

Snap Judgements

Tonight while waiting for Eldest at his soccer practice, Charming and I played at the nearby park.

I discovered I'm very judgy.

I know that I live in a rather prosperous location. Not Silicon Valley prosperous, or NYC upper west side (is that the right place?) prosperous, not Naperville prosperous, but this ain't small town, get by on minimum wage because you can, either. (Which is what I'm rather accustomed to.) I also know that I moved here with preconceived notions regarding the locale. (I met quite a lot of them at college and I wasn't quite sure what to make of a people who identified themselves with the county they came from rather than the town. UNTIL I MOVED HERE.) I also know that the first year I lived here, I had a coworker ask me if I felt safe living in the city I live in because it, gasp, is on the county line.

I kid you not.

I drove her home once, by the way, and she lived in a ratty apartment in the "in" town of the county and I decidedly did NOT feel safe in that parking lot. I went home to my county-line-challenged burb so I could breathe.

I'll tell you where I feel safe. Home. Looking out at an empty field. My other home. The one where my parents live. But I do still feel like my county-line-challenged home is relatively safe. When it's light out. And most of the time when it isn't. As long as my husband is home.

Rabbit trail.

So, I confess I have thoughts about county people. Thoughts like, "Seriously. Do you not see that you have the exact same haircut and highlights and sunglasses?" And, "Have I died and been sent to..." Oh crap. It was gonna be catchy, too. That book they made into a movie. The really creepy gross one where all the women were perfect. Whatever. You get my point.

But I've apparently also become a snob. Because there are other people that I see and think they must be trucking a kid into soccer practice from somewhere else. (They are generally very friendly. The friendliness gives them away.)

Which, frankly, is probably what those clones are thinking about me. OH YEAH, I am! From my county-line-challenged city!

 Whew, glad we cleared that up.

So, I was sitting at the park, watching Charming play. I had some dialogue with some people. (Found out they were from small towns outside of the county, which explains why they spoke to me.) They left. There I was, alone with a guy who looked like he could have been a member of a gang and his polite, sweet, clean, daughter who he controlled very well. The man would not make eye contact with me. He never smiled. I couldn't engage him in conversation. So I quit trying.

And then this load of people showed up and my ugly side showed up with them. For even though I didn't really want to talk to the gang banger, he was being a pretty decent father and his presence didn't bother me....much....as the soccer team was yelling distance away and he didn't glance my way once in an hour and 15 minutes. But that crowd of people brought with them cattiness that there's no accounting for.

They seemed like they could be nice people. And as more and more of them showed up my thought got uglier and uglier (and I wondered why they didn't take their rude children and just leave the park to me and the guy from the gang). And since I caught myself and my thoughts, I tried to analyze WHY I was having them.

I didn't come up with an answer. Except this: I know on first glance whether I will like someone or not. Good, bad, or otherwise. I know within five minutes if I want to be friends with a person. Sometimes time proves me wrong. Many times, time proves me correct. I'm right more than I'm wrong.

So, after I decided I didn't like anyone at the park and that Hubs would have to take soccer practice duty from here on out, I forced myself to look around and find someone I did like. It took 10 seconds. We were engaged in dialog in less than 5 minutes. And not because I chased them down to prove to myself I wasn't a judgy ( )itch. Because they had open, friendly faces and made eye contact and smiled. At their kids. I don't know. The other people probably did, too.

I have GOT to get over myself. And put on God eyes. And remember these people have souls (contrary to the drone way in which many of them behave--STOP IT!). So, in an effort to control myself, I'm confessing ye mine sins one to another. Go forth and sin no more.

So let it be written. So let it be done.

What Your Son Isn't Telling You

I am a mother of boys. Three boys to be exact. I have sisters. I am clueless (though, after nine years, improving). So when Bethany House asked me to review What Your Son Isn't Telling You; Unlocking the Secret World of Teen Boys, I thought I'd better.

Oh. My. Word.

Before, I was clueless. Now I'm terrified.

I had long ago decided that as long as you feed them and feed them well, they will love you. It seemed to work for my MIL. But I guess life isn't all about your boys loving you and having full tummies, is it?

In this book, the authors tackle some hard issues. Issues you aren't used to reading about in Christian literature. Because those are the issues that teen boys face. It isn't all about proving themselves (and full tummies). Or I guess a lot of it is about proving themselves, but the areas in which they feel are necessary to conquer in order to be manly...ouch.

In this book you will find chapters specifically addressing issues that teen boys face and then specific solutions to help your son navigate through these areas. Chapters are about Anger, Homosexuality, Internet (and those pictures they can find on there), Lust, etc., etc.. I was particularly fond of the chapters entitled "The Furious Five: What Guys Need" (FYI, they are Identity, Friends, Boundaries, Help dealing with his sexual feelings, and Confidence.), and "What He Needs From Mom." For, while my boys are still in the preteen stages (down to toddler), (almost all of) these things are good to incorporate into our relationship now.

Did you know you shouldn't tease your boys? I'm still not sure about this. My boys sure like to tease. But I do see the purpose behind not teasing him about his looks and such. And never mean spirited. (Duh.) No sarcasm? Oh, no, I'm in trouble. Which leads to the major point of the book: Seek the Lord on your son's behalf, for and with him. For with God, all things are possible. Even navigating the teen years with your son.

I Did It!

"I run because I can. I run to challenge myself. I run to compete. I run because I choose to. I run with others. I run to relax my mind. I run because it is my whole life. I run because it keeps me healthy. I run to feel free. I run to know myself better. I run to escape. I run to see the world. I run to be a better person. I run to feel alive. I run to relieve stress. I run to get closer to nature. I run to motivate myself. I run for my heart. I run for my family. I run to feel free. But most importantly I RUN FOR MERCY."

 I ran a 5K today! (OK, gut honesty, I ran 3 miles and walked 0.1 miles because I just couldn't make myself run up that blamin' hill just before mile 2, but STILL!)

I have no photographic evidence because Hubs had to take Eldest to a soccer game and I didn't want to carry a camera (no extra weight on the longest run of my LIFE), but I should have photographic evidence soon because I ran into friends there who did bring a cameraman along. Unfortunately, I was running so FAST at the end, my photo blurred out. :-) (That is true. It doesn't seem like a true thing for me to say, but it is. That, and the camera didn't have an action setting. Or they took it before I stopped. Something.)

When I came up to the "homestretch" (they actually label it "homestretch" on a sign), I started crying. And running faster. I actually had a kick at the end of a three mile run. Which, incidentally, probably means I didn't have to walk up the second half of that hill after all, but we aren't going there today. Because we are focusing on success. And just when I'd get control of my tears, I'd start crying again. And I crossed the finish line and, wow, I understood runner's high. It's like WHOOSH--I DID IT! And then, dang, your whole body hurts. And then all day you think to yourself "I ran three miles today!" And then you try to walk up the steps and your legs won't cooperate.

Being real.

Theoretically I'm supposed to be able to run three 5Ks a week three weeks from now. Or so this website says. And so far I've been able to do what they've asked of me. I dunno.

Anyhoo....thanks to all of you who donated to Oceans of Mercy on behalf of my run. Or however the proper wordage is for that. Those of you who donated know what I mean. After spending a morning with these people, I really do think they money is going to a great cause and is handled by people who love and serve our mighty God. (Who gives me great strength when I pray to be able to continue running.)

It was an awesome experience. Hopefully in 2011, I'll be able to cough out the 10K.

Here's an interesting tidbit or seven:

I ran 3.1 miles in 32 minutes and 31.4 seconds. I came in at 401st place out of more than 800 (better than 50%!). 79th in my age category (30-39) out of 206.

The dude who won the 10K? Did it in 38 minutes. As the 5K started 15 minutes behind the 10K, he finished before I did. That's just to keep me super humble. That and the fact that this was no marathon. Even though my mom seems bent on telling people it was. (She didn't know that a marathon was a specific race of 26.2 miles. I think she thought it was just terminology for a long race.) So if she tells you I ran a marathon, as much as I would like to be able to confirm that rumor, it isn't true. She means well and isn't trying to deceive you. Maybe before I'm 40. It's on my list. But first, let's take out the 10K, eh?

We Now Return to Our Regularly Scheduled Programming

After a previously unheard of several book break from my favorite genre, we are back to the goods. The place where the Magic happens. B-17 Bombers and Red Cross Volunteers. Mail call and Misunderstandings. Sigh. It's World War II without having to live it.

This time I veered to a new author, Sarah Sundin and her novel A Distant Melody. Oh, Glory, it started good and got better. Here's a bit:

Never pretty enough to please her gorgeous mother, Allie will do anything to gain her approval--even marry a man she doesn't love. 

Lt. Walter Novak--fearless in the cockpit but hopeless with women--takes his last furlough at home in California before being shipped overseas. Walt and Allie meet at a wedding and their love of music draws them together, prompting them to begin a correspondence that will change their lives. 

As letters fly between Walt's muddy bomber base in England and Allie's mansion in an orange grove, their friendship binds them together. But can they untangle the secrets, commitments, and expectations that keep them apart? 

A Distant Melody is the first book in the WINGS OF GLORY series, which follows the three Novak brothers, B-17 bomber pilots with the US Eighth Air Force stationed in England during World War II.

So, even when you know how the book is supposed to end, Walt and Allie do all sorts of stupid things to ruin the happy ending and, of course, it looks hopeless. This book was meaty, and without a simple plot line.  (That was supposed to be complimentary, but it reads negative. re-read it complimentary.) Heck there were probably four books in one. Not a gazillion converging characters like Tricia Goyer writes (beautifully), but two characters with a gazillion converging issues. It is also beautiful. 

I simply cannot wait for book two of the Wings of Glory Series (which I am relatively certain is a "stand alone series" meaning not dependant), Memory Between Us.   Whoot! Bring on September!

Sarah Sundin is an on-call hospital pharmacist and holds a BS in chemistry from UCLA and a doctorate in pharmacy from UC San Francisco. Her great-uncle flew with the US Eighth Air Force in England during WWII. Sarah lives in California with her husband and three children. This is her first novel.

For more info please visit her website at www.sarahsundin.com!

 This is a blog toured book, meaning the book was provided for me in exchange for my review. This fact does not taint my opinion, as you may have surmised from a couple posts ago. However, if you would like some more opinions regarding A Distant Melody, I recommend you visit some other tour stops. 

But not, of course, before you enter the CONTEST! Just click on the, what's it called?, box contest icon thing with a bomber on it. Easy-peasy.
**Edited**The following button doesn't work and I don't want to figure out why. The button in my sidebar DOES work. Use that one, easy-peasy, rather than this one, not-so-easy-peasy.

THE PRIZE:
The Winner of our ‘NETFLIX® & Nostalgia’ giveaway will receive a vintage prize package, including:

*A 6 month NETFLIX® subscription
*$25 Starbucks® gift card
*A box of See’s Famous Old Time Chocolates®
*A jar of homemade strawberry jam
*A Big Band music CD
*A Mini B-17 Model airplane
*Vintage stationery and pen
*British specialty tea
*WWII style playing cards