Jump for Joy!

Having a loving earthly father made it easier for me to understand my Heavenly Father’s Love.

Daddy was interested in everything I did.  He watched.  He asked questions.  He actually saw me!  I was not a distraction or an irritation.  He made me feel important.

When I was victorious, he shared in the joy.  When I failed, he helped me get back up.  He did not criticize.  He simply showed me a better way and assured me I would get it right the next time.

He wanted to be with me.  Even when he could have done tasks much faster and easier without my little girl help, he found ways to include me.  

Daddy showed affection in a healthy way.  He held my hand.  He hugged.  He kissed me on the cheek.

He told me he loved me.  He did the same with others he loved.  He said it plainly.  He said, “I love you with all my heart.”  I knew it was true. 

Daddy was fun.  He was a prankster.  But all his pranks were good, clean fun, designed for laughs for everyone, even the one being pranked.  April Fools Day was a treasured holiday for him.  He planned for it all year.  And the rest of us had to be on guard all day!

Daddy was kind and compassionate.  He loved to share with people.  Whether it was harvest from the garden, or a good joke, he gave all of what he had.

He had a deep respect for all people and he instilled that in us.  Everyone was welcome in our home.

In spite of the numerous ways I tried his patience, he never ever hit me.  He raised his voice.  He redirected.  He taught.  But he never gave up on me.

He knew there was evil in the world.  He did not dwell on it, but he did warn me about the things he did know to avoid.  He protected me as long as he could.

Daddy connected me to my ancestors.  He told me stories that made the grandparents I never knew come alive.  Daddy was honored to be a part of the family line and he wanted me to always remember I too was a part of a larger family.

Daddy used examples of things I could see to show me things I could not see.  When I could not get the hang of riding a bike, my father sat on the bathroom floor with me and rolled a quarter across the floor.  

He demonstrated how as long as it kept moving it stayed up.  He told me that would work not only for my bike, it would work for me too.  He smiled and said the key to life was never to give up and keep moving.  He was right!

Daddy prayed for me in a way that I felt transported with him to Heaven.  Not only did I feel God’s Presence, I felt The Presence of that great cloud of witnesses Paul talks about.  Our ancestors joined us there too.

Physical parting was hard.  Even though Daddy got to stay on earth for 96 years, I was not ready to let him go.  He was ready.  He anticipated a great family reunion and he assured me that when my work on earth was done, they would all welcome me in heaven.

One of the last things he said to me was, “I love you with all my heart.  Don’t forget me.”

Not a chance of that, Daddy.  I see you sometimes when I look in the mirror.  I see you in my brother.  

I hear you as I repeat your stories and jokes.  

I feel you very near when I need someone to pray for me.  

It turns out you didn’t need wings.  Somehow you became a part of me and you are with me always.

You were so humble you might have been embarrassed to know I spent a week writing about you.  But if it brought joy, smiles and love to others, I know you would be pleased.

I’ll love you, forever, Daddy … with all my heart!

Daddy was a man of prayer.  When I got up in the morning, I always knew where to find him.  He would be on his knees in front of a chair in the living room.

He always said the same thing when he got up.

“It would take more than 24 hours a day to thank The Lord for our many blessings!”

Fresh from prayer, he was still overflowing with gratitude.

He prayed before every meal.  He called it “saying grace.”  Sometimes he prayed familiar prayers that had been written and said by many.  But sometimes he prayed totally unscripted prayers that were filled with gratitude for more than food.

Even though my father was my wise counselor, he never gave advice without first checking it out with God.  He advised me to do the same.

Daddy freely admitted sometimes he simply did not know what to do.  I was blessed to see his genuine humility before God and in the presence of the rest of us.  He may not have known what to do, but He knew The One who did.  And he asked Him.

Daddy always emphasized how important it was to pray with an open mind.  He said we should never come to God with our mind already made up and ask God to just endorse our wishes.

Daddy said faith is really believing God has the Best Plan and being willing to follow His Plan when He reveals it.

And He lived it all the way through his life, even as God’s Plans involved big adjustments in Daddy’s Plans.

He prayed through the loss of my mother.  He prayed in the isolation that followed.  He prayed even as he left his home of many years and went to the nursing home.

He prayed all the way to Glory and beyond.  And he left all of us a legacy in revealing what would always connect us.

He said, “Prayer is the biggest Power we’ve got!”

When I pray, I feel I am talking to both of my fathers.  God my Heavenly Father and Daddy, my once earthly Father, are both listening!🙏😍

My father gave me many gifts.  One of them was the gift of curiosity.  Daddy wondered about everything.  

He actually saw the world around him.  He marveled at how things were connected.  He puzzled over things that did not connect or were out of place.

Sometimes when he would ask me questions about things I simply had no interest in, he would gently chide me by saying, “Don’t you have any curiosity?”

Once when we were in church, the preacher was delivering the sermon with his usual vim and vigor.  Daddy appeared to be intently listening.

At one point, he leaned over to whisper something to me.  I expected some great revelation.  Daddy said, “Look at that woman on the end of the front row in the choir.”

I looked.

Daddy said, “She sure has a long neck.”

Before I could ignore the dirty looks of my mother, he added, “God sure is creative in how He makes different people.”

That was the best sermon I heard that day.  And now, more than a half a century later, I look around and think, “Yes, Daddy, God is very creative!”

Daddy’s curiosity was not limited to just his immediate world.  Television opened up a whole new world of wondering.  

He wondered who the actors were, how old they were, where they were from, etc.  He was somewhat frustrated that his trusty collection of encyclopedias could not give him the answers.

But one Christmas, his ship came in when someone gave him a book of all kinds of current information, including the ages of actors.  He renewed it every year, so he could be up to date.

He never got the answer to his most pressing question.  He wanted to know how he could still watch Lawrence Welk when he knew Lawrence had died.  Now that Daddy is in heaven, he and Lawrence can work that one out.

I would love to see what Daddy would do with today’s internet.  As I am busily researching random thoughts at 3 AM, I think of Daddy.  I have the urge to tell him, “Yes, I have plenty of curiosity!”

And when I see anyone with a long neck, I always smile and think how creative God is!😘

My mother cooked. My father washed the dishes. I dried.

After years of this arrangement, my parents decided to look into getting a dishwasher.

Daddy asked the salesman all kinds of questions about this new fangled machine that was said to be able to wash and dry dishes.

Finally he asked the salesman how much he would give him for the old one.

The salesman asked what condition it was in. Without missing a beat, Daddy said, “Well, it’s old, but it has always been reliable.”

The salesman then said, “ Well, I would have to see it to really make an offer.”

Daddy then laughed and said, “You’re looking at it!”

My father had a wonderful sense of humor, and I am glad we got to have a new dishwasher without giving up the old one!

My father was a mailman in Charleston, South Carolina. His route was the old historic section.

He was more than just the mailman. He was like a member of the family to his patrons. He was loved and trusted.

In those days, many left their front doors unlocked and he delivered the mail inside their homes to them.

Often they would put out refreshments for him, including cold, sweet tea, which was always a welcome break from pounding the hot streets carrying a heavy bag of mail over his shoulders. (No mail trucks in those days).

He took his lunch break sitting at the battery, watching the ocean waves and the sea gulls flying over. He said he often used this peaceful time to count his blessings.

He was blessed in that he was just old enough to miss the draft and he did not have to go to war.

Families eagerly waited for any word from loved ones fighting the war. Daddy paid special attention to any incoming letters that might soothe their fears.

At one point, the letters from a beloved son stopped. All feared he had been lost. One day, late in the day, a letter arrived from the son. Daddy’s boss told him to hold it and just deliver it the next day.

He said he could not imagine letting that poor family suffer another second without knowing. He got permission to deliver it that evening on his own time.

It was a simple measure of the man he was … a man of compassion. The family celebrated as did the son when he came home. And years later, they still talked of that beautiful evening when Mr. Horace brought them good news.

There were two other parents who also looked to Daddy for more than mail. Their two little boys often wanted to cross the street. Their mothers could not supervise them all the time. They were told they were never to cross the street unless it was with Mr. Horace.

So frequently he found two little boys eagerly awaiting his arrival. Many years later, I chanced to see one of those boys (then a man) on tv. He was in an important public position. I wondered if he remembered the days when he crossed the street with the mailman.

After many years in Charleston, Daddy had the opportunity to return to his hometown of Fairfax, South Carolina. He became a rural mail carrier.

He carried the mail to new patrons who lived out in the country where he had grown up. As he said jokingly, “I knew every pig path out there.”

As in Charleston, he provided far more services than just delivering mail. Once the word spread that Mr. Horace knew how to kill snakes, he was often met hysterically by people like me, who wanted nothing to do with things that slither and rattle. And like the rescuer he was, he got out his hoe and took care of them.

Some boys decided to play a joke on Daddy by catching one of the harmless grass snakes and putting it in the mail box. The first time it happened, he was surprised.

The next few times, he understood what was happening. So when he opened the box and found the snake, he took it out, put the mail in, and then returned the snake to the box. He said that was the last time he ever found a snake in the box. One should never try to prank a prankster.

He delivered mail to an elderly couple who lived way out in the country. When the wife died, the old man continued living there. As he was very lonely, he looked forward to Daddy coming by each day.

Daddy provided extra times of comfort for him. But then came the day when Daddy received what he called his most unusual request.

The man came out to the mailbox with his wet washcloth and asked Daddy if he could please wash his back. He said his wife used to do it for him, and since she died, there was no one to help him.

Daddy said he was surprised, but felt he could do nothing less. I think Jesus smiled, as He used Daddy’s hands extended.

There are many more memories of Daddy’s time delivering the mail. Besides the stories he shared with me, many others told me of his mercy and compassion.

When Daddy was promoted to Heaven at age 96, I feel sure Jesus said to him,

“Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”
Matthew 25:23

My father worked hard, but he liked to have fun.

Some of the games he played with me, he also played with his grandchildren.

He would wave his hands around and chuckle, “Bore a hole, bore a hole,” and then he would swoop down for a quick tickle and say “right into Carolyn (or whoever he was playing with).” Babies, toddlers and watching adults would laugh.

He would set children on his foot and bounce them up and down and say, “Ride the horsy.”

He took me for rides in his wheelbarrow.

He let me jump into his pile of freshly raked leaves and never complained that he had to rake them back up.

He made a swing for me and hung it on the pecan tree. He pushed me so high I felt like I was flying.

When I expressed an interest in basketball, he made a basketball goal for me and attached it to the other pecan tree. My friend, Lynn and I shot baskets, using the garbage can as our free throw line.

Daddy helped me learn to ride a bike. When I was having trouble getting the hang of it, he sat down on the bathroom floor with me and rolled a quarter across the floor.

He said, ”Did you see that? As long as it kept moving, it stayed up. When it stopped moving, it fell over. That’s the way riding a bike works.”

He added, “That’s the way life works too. If you keep going, you stay up. But if you give up and stop, you will fall.”

Daddy loved to play interactive games. Unlike today, people in that time enjoyed sharing fun with each other. We did not play video games. We played games where our human connection was as important or more important than the game itself.

My parents and my brother set up the card table and played the card game, Canasta. When I was too little to play, Daddy let me sit on his lap and “help him” play his hand.

Every time he took “the pile,” he would laugh with glee and say, “OK, Carolyn, let’s go to the kitchen table and sort these out.” Once there, he would say, “Because you helped me, we are winning!” He had the wonderful ability to share any victories.

Daddy taught me to play checkers. He said checkers was a whole lot like life. You start one place, but your goal is to get to the other side.

He told me to always think three moves ahead, both for myself and my opponent. Know what he might do and be ready with your play.

He also taught me how to be willing to give up one piece if it was going to put me in a position to take three pieces.

He said, “It’s not just about the here and now. Know where you want to go. Know what you hope to get and plan for it. When it is time, don’t hesitate. Do it!”

While Daddy enjoyed winning, he never liked my sad face when he had won all the checkers and I had none left. He let that soak in for awhile. He observed, “It does not feel very good to have nothing while others have everything, does it.”

Almost in tears, I agreed. I thought what was coming was a lecture on how I could be a better player and maybe win next time. But that was not the life lesson he had in mind.

“Set them up again. I am going to teach you another way to play. This way to play Checkers is called Give Away!”

In Give Away, the goal is to give away all your checkers. Make moves that allow the other person to “jump you” and let them have your checkers. You have to think totally different from the regular game of Checkers. Initially I was not sure I liked it. It felt strange to deliberately give up my pieces.

But eventually I began to like it. It felt good to give. Daddy told me Give Away was the best way to live life. The goal is to have little or nothing left to give on earth so you will not have a lot of heavy baggage when it is time to go to Heaven. 

Daddy lived his life that way. He was always looking for ways to give. By the time he was in bed in a nursing home, he had little left to give, but he gave all of what he had … smiles, hugs, kisses, gratitude … he won.

With the advent of television, a whole new world of games opened up to Daddy. The game shows were a family affair. We all played. Daddy, the bookkeeper, nailed The Price is Right. He could survey the most obscure object and guess its price right on the money.

But his favorite show, right up to the end of his life, was “Wheel of Fortune.” As Vanna White turned each letter, we would all guess wildly. But Daddy often simply studied the board and waited until he spoke. And he was usually the first to figure it out.

He told me “Too often in life, people get a little bit of information and think they know it all. You need to listen and see each part of a thing before you try to make sense of it.”

Later in life, when I was having a hard time personally, he said, “OK, what things do you know? Look at all of them. Put them in order.”

I did that. There were still too many unknowns for me to even guess. I asked my father if he was going to be like Vanna White and turn over a few more things for me to see.”

He shook his head and said, “No, but we can ask God together if He will do that for you. Just remember He shows you just one thing at a time and you trust Him for what and when He will show you the next one.”

I have not completed my series on memories of my father. There will be more to come.

But for now I think I might go swing, toss a basketball around, or look at what things I can give away. And if I find someone along the way, who will play with me, we can do it in memory of my Daddy!

 My father grew up on a farm in low country South Carolina. The love of the land never left him.

His parents were not wealthy, but they had the dream of sending their son to college. They scrimped and saved to make that dream come true.

But in the early 20s, a great plague of boll weevils hit the south. Their cotton crops were wiped out. The only way the family survived was to use the money from Daddy’s college fund.

He always told the story sadly because he never did get to go to college. However, he did get to go to business school in Augusta, Georgia.

In addition to being a mailman, he worked for years at his second job as a bookkeeper. He loved to move numbers around, as if he was solving puzzles.

He had a garden in Charleston and a large garden in Fairfax. He also raised chickens in Charleston, but that is another story for another day.

He spent many hours pouring over seed catalogues and sketching out on paper a map of how he planned to plant.

I saw no reason for such an elaborate plan. When I asked him about it, he explained that some plants grew better together. He also explained how some taller plants would provide shade for others, as they grew.

He said the garden was like God’s world. God plants us where he wants us to grow and He waters, feeds and nourishes us.

He gets rid of weeds that try to take over. He keeps predators from killing us. And He positions us in such a way we can help each other, even if it is just giving shade.

For years Daddy hired a man who came with his mule. The mule pulled a plow that “broke up” the soil in preparation for planting.

When that man retired, Daddy got a push plow and pushed it himself. It required a great deal of strength to break up the hard ground. He said it was worth all the effort to be able to bring new life from the soil. After all, God brought forth life from the ground!

When the crops were planted, daddy nurtured them with Joy. He said he just loved to see things grow.

He told me he thought that about me too. He loved to watch me grow. Perhaps that is why I feel such a connection with nature. We are related and our Father loves watching us grow!

Daddy may have missed his chance to go to college, but he did his best to see that both my brother and I went to college. Not only did he work two jobs and live very sparingly, he also personally tutored us in various subjects. And he tutored many of our friends too. As he said, he loved to watch others grow.

As it got time for each crop to come up, Daddy’s excitement was obvious. He went to the garden as soon as he got up in the morning, when he got home from work, and sometimes even after dark, peeping at his plants to check their progress.

And then came the times of harvest. He said it was very important not to pick them too soon. He said, people get impatient and try to snatch them from Mother Earth before their time and if they do that, it ruins them. They will not be any good to eat.

He also said it was important not to leave them there beyond the time to pick. He said then they just get tough and wither on the vine. He said, like life, there is a time and season for everything, and we need to follow God’s timing on everything.

When those first baskets of corn, beans, peas, radishes, potatoes, tomatoes and other things were brought from the garden, there was great celebration. And there was fruit and nuts too. Pecans, peanuts, walnuts, apples, pears, and others.

Then the real celebration began as we sat in a circle on the back porch and shelled beans and peas or carefully “picked out” (shelled) pecans and walnuts. It was a time of thankfulness to God for all He had provided and a time for us as a family to fellowship and enjoy each other’s company.

When Daddy was old, he continued to work his garden, often planting and harvesting things he himself did not eat. When I asked him why he did that, he said, “I always just like to have something to divide (share) with people. God knows what they like and I get to grow it and deliver it for Him.”

The story of earth started in a garden. God brought forth all kinds of good things, including man, from the ground. Jesus prayed in a garden.

Jesus said, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.“
John 15:1

Jesus said, “Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father.”
John 14:9

John 20:15 tells us that when Mary was in the garden looking for where Jesus’ Body had been taken, she ran into Jesus, but did not recognize Him. Why? She thought He was the gardener! He was!

As I look back over my father’s time as a gardener, I now recognize how God My Father was working through my earthly father, the gardener.  I saw God The Father through my father.

I believe they are still working together today, tending to us, nurturing us, protecting us and eagerly watching us grow, so we can feed the world with Love!

Even though my father could have done any task quicker and easier without my little girl help, he always included me.

We did dishes together, we raked leaves together, we gathered vegetables from his large garden, we went to the post office and got the mail, went to the bank and went grocery shopping together.

But my least favorite together activity was cleaning up the cemetery. My father’s parents were buried in the graveyard of a little church way out in the country. There was no perpetual care in those days. Each family was responsible for cleaning up the gravesites.

Since many ancestors were buried there, the cleaning tasks lasted for hours. We pulled up weeds, raked, bagged, cleaned stones, and other assorted tasks.

In summer it was so outrageously hot we probably could have fried an egg on the tombstones.

There was a variety of insects, some big, some small. As sweat rolled down our faces, often gnats would stick to us.

Worst of all, there were rattlesnakes. My father grew up in the South Carolina low country, so they were no big deal to him. He got his hoe and unceremoniously dispatched them to where snakes go in their next life.

Only problem was that then we had to dispose of the dead snakes. We hiked into the nearby woods and laid them to rest there. I really did not want to be included in that part, but neither did I want to be left in the cemetery alone (especially with the thought the dead snake’s relatives might be gathering for the wake!😱).

When I confided to my father that I found the cemetery a bit spooky, he laughed. He said, “You don’t have to worry about any of these people. They won’t hurt you. They are at peace.”

When I looked doubtful, he said, “Here. I’ll show you. See that tombstone over there?”

I looked at the one he pointed to. Daddy said, “Now walk quietly over there and ask it what it wants.”

I almost jumped out of my skin at the thought of what my long dead ancestor might say. But Daddy said, “He will say, ‘Nothing at all.’ He is at peace. Go on. Try it. And be real quiet and listen.”

Still doubtful, I tip toed over and very gently knocked on the stone. I managed to squeak out, “What do you want?”

I heard nothing. My father said, “You are speaking too softly. You have to talk louder than that if anyone is going to hear you.”

I reluctantly tried again … and again … until I felt I had enough volume to raise half the dead in that cemetery. Still nothing.

My father was obviously stifling a laugh when he asked, “What did he say?”

I answered, “Nothing.”

Daddy said, “He said nothing … nothing at all?”

Suddenly it clicked. I had been taken in again by my father’s sense of humor and love of pranks.

He said, “I told you it would say nothing at all!”

My father’s pranks were never mean spirited. Almost all of them had a point about life.

Later we sat at the picnic tables near by the church and enjoyed cold water out of the thermos and ate the sandwiches my mother had packed for us.

Daddy said, “There are some things in life you should be afraid of. Those snakes will bite you and possibly kill you. And there are other things you should stay away from. They will be like snakes in your life. They will bite you. And even when you think you have killed them, they will be hard to bury.”

He continued, “But some things you do not have to fear. My mama and papa knew they were going to Heaven. They did not have to fear death. They are at peace. They need nothing at all right now.”

Daddy’s words echoed The Words of Jesus.

“Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the one who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”
Matthew 10:28

Jesus said to her, “I am The Resurrection and The Life. The one who believes in Me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in Me will never die. Do you believe this?”
John 11:25-26

The Teachers of The Law in Jesus’ day strongly believed they were keepers of God’s Law.  They learned it from those who went before them and they intended for those who came after them to keep The Law too.

They made the crucial mistake of looking at the created and not The Creator.  They stared too long at the letter of the law and missed its intent.  They held on to old traditions so tightly, there was not room to grow. 

Jesus never suggested they be barred from teaching God’s Word.  He simply wanted them to line up with The Word they were preaching.  And He wanted them to grow spiritually.

Jesus told them,

“You nullify The Word of God by your tradition that you have handed down. And you do many things like that.”

Mark 7:13

Meanwhile, apart from the temple leaders, Jesus was raising up men and women as future leaders.  Most of them would not make the cut as leaders of what had become a religion based on tradition alone.

Jesus broke all barriers.  He opened doors no one could close and closed doors no one could open.

With Jesus’ transition out of His Physical Body, the curtain of the temple was ripped in two.

And with Pentecost, the new order of God’s Kingdom on earth began.  Joel saw it long before.

I will pour out My Spirit on all people.

Your sons and daughters will prophesy,your old men will dream dreams, your young men will see visions.  Even on my servants, both men and women, I will pour out My Spirit in those days.

Joel 2:28-29

May we never be guilty of trying to bar any door God has opened.  We need to get on with what Jesus has called us to do.  And in order to achieve The Mission, we need all of us.

Go into all the world and preach The Gospel to all creation!

Mark 16:15

Writing is a faith venture.  When I first began Christian writing, I, like many novice writers, was excited I had something to say.  I was sure the world was waiting eagerly to hear it.

After I presented what I thought was my work, I would sometimes attempt to poll people on how I did.  

Mistake number one.  I thought it was my work.  God firmly corrected me.  If I wanted to write for Him, He would let me.  But I had to be in the role of note taker and stenographer.  If it was going to carry the label of Christian writing, then it needed to come straight from God.

Any writing I would ever do would be a Gift from God.  He would be trusting me to speak clearly and accurately about Him.  But I needed to constantly realize it was about Him and not about me.

However, the process of writing did turn out to be about me in part.  It was a humbling experience to discover His Words were first meant for me.  Sometimes they were encouraging.  Sometimes they were refining.

And now back to the problem of looking for positive approval ratings.  I was a bit hurt when I discovered some people had not read what I wrote.  Not only that, some openly acknowledged they had no plans to read it.  Some said simply they were “not readers.”

Then I encountered a new hurdle.  Some had read what I wrote.  And they disagreed with it! 😱  Some took the time to vigorously argue points.  Some even edited my writing, telling me where I was supposed to add commas or quotation marks or how a sentence would sound better if I wrote it in another way.

God reminded me iron sharpens iron

As iron sharpens iron, so one person another.

Proverbs 27:17

I should never disregard or be offended by those who disagree with me.

Sometimes our dialogue helps us understand more than we thought we knew.  Sometimes our disagreement helps us firm up our beliefs.  We know for sure what we believe and what we do not believe.

Peter’s advice was a good guide.

In your hearts honor Christ The Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.

1 Peter 3:15

And yes, even those unsolicited editors have value.  As they troll my words, looking for errors, they are being drawn in to look closer.  I need never question how God draws people to Him.

God also prompted me not to give up on those who are not readers.  He reminded me that He created everyone uniquely different.  Just as different roads can lead to a common destination, so can messages be sent and received in different ways.

I asked the non-readers how they liked to receive information.  I got a variety of answers.  Many reflected our modern day culture of being on the move and doing several things at one time.  

Many were listeners.  They listened while they drove, or walked in the park or folded laundry at home.

Some liked reading from their computers, tablets or phones.

So I began offering my writing in print, electronic format and audio.  I read the audio versions myself.  In that way, I can express audibly what started silently in my head and heart.  It is my personal communication with the listener.

God also taught me He will distribute His Word when He chooses.  He called my attention to how we feed the birds.  We don’t know which birds will eat or when they will eat.  We put out the food and God guides them in.

Sometimes words, music or art did not become famous until after their originators had died.  They never knew on earth the impact of their work.  But God did.  His timing is always perfect.

Writing is a way of putting out spiritual food.  God guides it to those He wants to feed when they are hungry enough to eat.  So I learned I did not need a sophisticated advertising scheme.  I just needed to listen closely to how and when God wanted me to share.

And most amazing of all has been the way God used other people to help spread the word.  He reminded me of the many books, including The Bible, that came to me because one person after another shared the words.  

Same with music and art.  All survived not because of the human originator, but because people kept sharing it.

So now we come to my special requests.  Please pray with me that I am able to continue to carry out my God given assignments in the way He chooses for me to do it.

And then pray about whether part of your mission is to share the writings, music or art of other people.  If you feel so led, please share the information about our latest book.  God knows where He wants it to go.  It may be to you or it may be through you!

And do not forget to do good and to share with others.

Hebrews 13:16

Here is the link.

Good News!