I thank the Lord for giving me a love for the written word. Over the years He has put before me many writings of dedicated men and women. He has brought into my life numerous other writers to uplift me when my heart grows weary.

Writing is hard. Some days close to impossible. I am a feeble tool in the hands of a mighty Master, for Whom I don’t want to disappoint.

Sometimes I’ve had my characters say, “Help me, Jesus.” And that is my plea as an aging writer who still invests in imagination.

Writers uplift writers thus the old iron sharpens iron adage. I have borrowed words from others to place myself in the Master’s hands through prayer before my fingers hit the keyboard.

Thank you all.

I praise You for being the Father of all creation. Thank You for me. Only in You, Lord, can I do the writing You have called me to do. Thank you for blessing me. I pray that You guide me now as I work on my WIP. Thank You for the call to write and lead me so I don’t embarrass You.

God, You made me a storyteller. When I write, fill me with Your words. In turn, I want to feel Your pleasure. Lord, open my spiritual eyes to the opportunities You will give me to represent You, an unusual sensitivity to present You to my readers. Grant me an overflow of words to shine Your glorious light.                

Please grace my words for Your glory.

     And remind me daily:
               My calling as a writer is just as legitimate if I never make a dime.
                      This call to write is a sacred invitation.
                                A soul is a good return for my writing investment.

Oh, Lord, I long to abide in You. I pray You bind Satan and his angels to the throne so I am free to rest in You. I pray Your words abide in me. In the meantime, please continue to build character and perseverance within me.

Thank You for having higher knowledge, for seeing the full picture.

Thank You for my original hunger to write. Renew that hunger within me.

Thank you for having a plan for me.

Please forgive me for anything I need to bring before you and help me~~I cannot do this without You. YOU are my co-Author. I am Your conduit as You fill my mind and fingers with words.

You never provide a wrong answer…let Your season come over my soul. I long for my soul to sing again as I work. May You provide in me a garden of JOY for You.

I thank You, Lord Jesus, for dying for my sins. I give You my writing, as You show me the way. I offer myself as a vessel, cleansed by the blood of Jesus. Fill me with Your Holy Spirit to do the work You have called me to do. In Your
Holy Name, amen.

Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed. (Proverbs 16:3)

April 2026
Months roll along as fast as days any more. I’ve been writing these blogs for almost ten years. Along the way I’ve reminded readers that April is a month I love, not only for spring but for my birthday as well as my spiritual (50 years since I was born again on the 20th!).
I thought it’d be fun to see what I’ve already said. I went back for a look and now share the first paragraphs. My blogs began with slices of farm life and remind me that I have yet to put these memories all together for my family.

April 2017 “Cows – My Favorite”
Caring for animals, and the land, meant no time for selfishness, laziness, disobedience, or complaint while growing up on the farm. I loved to holler, “Come Boss!” to the milk cows in the pastures. I’d elongated Boss and listened to my voice echo across the hills. I was able to call milk cows and pigs, but other animal sounds and impressions proved beyond my ability.

April 2018 “Tree Tales”
Battle-scarred. Broken-off. Hollowed-out. Root-exposed. Dead.
A ragged tree trunk of seventeen feet once stood in the northeast corner of the ash grove where my siblings and I camped. There on our family farm where we grew up in Antelope County, that tree could have told some tales.

April 2019 “Tweenager”
I was a happy child with a natural Pollyanna outlook on life, trusting those around me and always looking for good. Mom often said I laughed like a hyena. At ages eleven-twelve, my body galloped ahead of my mind. In other words, I matured early. My childhood faded into my past … Mom expressed concern for my posture and sought to prevent slouching. So she helped me balance books on my head and I practiced walking without them slipping off. She also said, “Ladies walk a slimmer, more graceful profile if they step one foot directly in front of the other.” Mom demonstrated and I rehearsed that walk on the seams of the spotted beige linoleum floor tiles.

April 2020 “Teen Highlights, the best in 1965”
In the 1950s and ‘60s, entertainment at home came with the advent of television, which brought the world into the nation’s living rooms. I watched American Bandstand on Saturdays and twisted around the room while cleaning house. We watched presidential addresses from Dwight Eisenhower and John F. Kennedy. Unrest in the South regarding segregation seemed a world away, but I was captivated when I watched Martin Luther King as he stood in front of the Washington Memorial in Washington, D.C. I believed that I could achieve anything in life as I listened to his “I Have a Dream” speech. By that time in high school, I was too busy with activities to watch much TV besides the news, but that speech had an impact on my young heart. I also remember Clint Eastwood as a dreamy cowboy named Rowdy on “Rawhide.” That contrast between Martin Luther King and Clint exemplified how I searched deep within for what I stood for and a world I romanticized.

April 2021 “The Rooms of Our Lives” 
Each of has a different picture in mind when we process certain words. I’d never considered juxtaposing the chambers of my heart with the rooms in my home, but away I went for a guest blog that first appeared ten years ago [February 2011]. Chambers are defined as private, even secret. We’ve heard of a judge’s chambers where undisclosed conversations take place. I would imagine every human heart has a hidden place within. Humans may not see that corner, but according to I Samuel 16:7, God looks at the heart.

April 2022 “Why I Write”
Behold, God is my salvation, I will trust and not be afraid: for the Lord God is my strength and song, and He has become my salvation. ~~ Isaiah 12:2
I once balked at the idea of blogging. And it took a while before I gave in and committed to once a month on my website. Maybe the core reason was the belief that a personal blog puts focus on the blogger rather than the books written. Then again, as a reader, I enjoy learning about an author’s personal life.

April 2023 “Dancing with God”
Happy Spring to you all! I’m sure I’ve shared that I love the month of April. My birthday falls on Easter this year, and on the 20th I celebrate my spiritual birthday of forty-seven years.
Since I am buried in, and purging, the accumulated STUFF of fifty years, my writing is on hold. That said, I wish you joy in the new birth surrounding us. I pray that you take time to spend life in the moment, simply breathing and praising God for the life He has graciously given. [I shared a poem with the above title.]

April 2024 God’s Timing
For several years, I’ve planned to write a Christmas novella during the month of February. I was ahead of the game in 2023, but that was also a year of a six-room remodel. Since it’s a sequel, actually the third in a series, I began the current story in 2023. But God’s timing didn’t bring that to completion until this past March, two weeks later than my personal deadline for a first version. I have yet to submit Christmas Fulfilled to my editor and publisher. Ah, God’s timing.

April 2025 April Showers – I wish!
We are in a drought. Only with sporadic rain or a little snow melt in March have we seen water in our spring-fed creek for going on three years.
I’ve often written of how the month of April has showered blessings upon me and made life memorable. I’m adding another reason. The following notes are from my 2010 writing journal:

4/6 – White Rose sent me a pre-contract for MOSELLE’S INSURANCE. I’m walking on air.

4/8 – I did some Internet research. Lots of e-mail with questions to published authors. Made a file of congrats on Moselle.

4/9 – HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. I received the contract and promo paperwork.

​I apologize for the length of this post, but the last one made me smile the whole time I read it. Happy spring to you all.

For You, Lord, are good, and ready to forgive, and abundant in mercy to all who call upon You (Psalm 86:5, NASB).

The NIV reads: You, Lord, are forgiving and good, abounding in love to all who call to you.

Have you ever stopped doing and allowed yourself to rest in the arms of your loving Lord?

The first couple weeks of February, when I tried to set down and write 1000K words a day for my new Christmas story, it went well. But I didn’t finish the month able to write much.

I was struck with what I thought was a doozy of a sinus infection. Nope. Covid again.

Moan and groan. NO WAY.

The Lord is good and I’ve spent a lot of time with Him. Have you ever read Experiencing God? It’s wonderful for reintroducing our First Love and I again realized how privileged I am to be called His daughter. To think God created me for a relationship that brings glory to Him, blows me away. It’s too deep to fathom. He created you for the same.

Have you ever considered that illness or recovery are allowed in our lives for the purpose of growing closer to him? Those times when we’re forced to slow down and let our God hold us up.

That’s what the coronavirus did for me in February. I had a mild case the first time, Easter Sunday, also my birthday, in 2023. I only dealt with brain fog and fatigue.

This time? I was blindsided and pretty much out of it for two weeks.

What did I do during that time except rest? I experienced God’s one and only lovingkindness.

I’ve heard some people say they get more out of the New Testament than from reading Psalms. I love the Psalms. Those song and poetry writers spoke from the heart. They often began lamenting but ending praising the Lord with all of their souls.

The Psalms speak to me. After all, reading them sparked me to fill four journals with devotional poetry that I don’t know if I could write today. Word search puzzles helped me pass the time in February. I just “happened” to have one based on the Psalms close to my chair. Oh, how my God blesses me with the lovingkindness of His steadfast love.

He opens my eyes to see Him at work in hearts near and dear to me. I want all whom I love to open their hearts and realize what our Lord reveals of himself at the times we are open to receiving His love, and in turn, serve Him in love.
​
After all, He first loved us. In turn, we are to bring glory to Him through continual, daily worship that deepens our relationship with him. The more we know Him, the closer we are to spending eternity with Him.

Beloved, let’s love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. (1 John 4:7)

We recently had a sermon based on Jesus’ words recorded in Luke, chapter six, where he spoke to a crown of listeners. Verses twenty-seven and thirty-five jumped out at me:

“But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, and pray for those who mistreat you.”

And

“But love your enemies and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return; and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High; for He Himself is kind to ungrateful and evil people.”

“Love your enemies.” Really? What popped into my mind was how I had to forgive my father’s killer, but love him?

For readers who don’t know, my dad was murdered fifty years ago and the case remains unsolved.

When I stated above that I had to forgive, it was for my own mental health and the state of my heart.

These words in Luke reminded me to take Jesus and His words seriously. Following a parable at that time, my Lord asked His listeners in verse 46, “Why do you call Me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say?”

One New Testament verse says that believers are known for loving one another. Love is mentioned throughout the Bible. And one thing I know is that human love cannot be compared to the love our Father has for us. I plan to spend the rest of my life reading about God’s love. I doubt I will ever grasp the depth.

James 2:8 quotes the familiar Old Testament (Leviticus 19:18) verse that instructs us to love our neighbor as ourselves.

“…fervently love one another from the heart” is written in 1 Peter 1:22. Ouch. That includes my enemies. That includes the person who took Merlin Mosel from his family.

One thing I trust about the Bible is that Scripture backs Scripture. The Bible, often referred to as God’s love letter to His children, tells us to pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44).

As an author of Christian romance, I always try to include in my stories the unbelievable, the unimaginable love Jesus has for us. He died for the world. He lay down His life for His unlovable enemies.

Love an enemy? Love a killer? Ouch again. And again.

Love is a verb. A verb equals action. God is a God of action. He gives us many chances to do good. That doing good includes choosing to love my enemies. Yes, that kind of love goes way beyond a cute or sunny valentine.

Prayer: My dear Lord Jesus, I am a weak sinner. I drift from the seriousness of Your Word. Forgive me for overlooking Your words, and not taking required action. I pray in the mighty name of Jesus. Amen.

In mid-December a phrase from my car radio caught my attention:

“Holiday Hangover of Hopelessness.”

Now isn’t that uplifting for the Christmas season?

I wouldn’t claim such a feeling for myself, but I have experienced the emotion of being downhearted following Christmas. It’s so easy to picture the whole family filling my kitchen. However, it seems there is always someone missing. Life isn’t a fictional setting most of the time. Someone is often ill, another is being selfish and chooses to be alone, claiming joy has been sucked away due to a life situation, and even one who has to work.

When a family member hurts, it rubs off on me. My heart’s desire is for everyone I love to know the joy of the Lord. That means I need to lift up that individual in prayer, leave him or her in God’s hands, and focus my thoughts, even acknowledged disappointments, on my Lord and Savior.

I’ve shared with you before that for several years now, I’ve chosen a word for the new year. (Happy New Year to you all!) Those words have included: Rest, Sing, Thankful, Trust, Victorious, Rejoice, Joy, Thrive, Lovingkindness, and Renew.

My chosen word for 2026 is Lighthearted.

For some reason, I’ve sobered over the years. I used to smile all the time. Recently, my aged countenance looks more like a grimace in pictures. Unfortunately, my visage on camera when singing in choir often makes me look like a sourpuss. Why?

I feel lighthearted within. How can my face not show the joy in my heart? I have a hope that surpasses understanding. I know where I’m going to spend eternity once this earth life is done.

Where was that December blog claim that the joy of the Lord is my strength?

Oh, my dear Lord and Mighty God, forgive my negligence and my short memory. I have within me the power of the God of the Old Testament, YAHWEH. I have the promise Jesus left, the gift of the Holy Spirit, in my soul. Please, restore to me the joy of my salvation. Lift any heaviness that weighs down my heart. Grant me an ever-present song that places focus on You. I even ask for that innocent, childlike faith that erases the hopelessness and helplessness of this heavy life. in Your glorious name, amen.

He reminded me I find that joy through song. Duh. I know that music lifts up my heart!
​
I plan to sing these two hymns until I have them memorized:

​He Keeps Me Singing by Luther B. Bridgers, 1910 (public domain)

There’s within my heart a melody
Jesus whispers sweet and low,
“Fear not, I am with thee, peace, be still,”
In all of life’s ebb and flow.
​
Refrain:
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus,
Sweetest Name I know,
Fills my every longing,
Keeps me singing as I go. (there are four more verses)
​

Have you ever considered those words? The lyrics can’t help but uplift a heart.

How do you define joy? Joy is much more than happiness. It’s a state of being. Happiness usually depends on a person’s circumstances, a momentary thing.
When life runs smoothly and no one near and dear is ill, life is good. When you feel assurance in a good job and surrounded by a loving family, life is rosy. When you have a sense of financial security life can be lived in a bubble of safety.

A person can be considered a Grinch or a Scrooge if he or she isn’t happy during the holidays. But even for one who is full of smiles and feels good, life status can change in the blink of an eye.

Joy, on the other hand, is a deep-seated assurance that the Lord has my life in His hand. Despite what comes my way, God’s got it. And my hope is joy because I know what comes once life on earth is over.

I’ll use a few life chapters of my own as illustrations that what we face is temporary. There wasn’t a lot of money when I grew up. But at age thirteen, I baby-sat and then cleaned the neighbors’ home, thus earning my own money for clothes and makeup.

After high school, I worked and saved for a year. Then I worked the year I attended what was then known as junior college.

I call the years of my young adult life as BC days, meaning before Christ. They included a teen pregnancy, a resulting marriage that only lasted two years, and early in my second marriage, the murder of my father.

A year later, the Lord opened my heart and I chose to give Him my life.
Since that spring of 1976, there have been up and down events in my life, but I haven’t faced them on my own strength. The resulting joy is a deep-down life of hope, hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t have faith in the Baby born in Bethlehem.

“For God so loved the world that Hew gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

God gives a life of joy. He infuses strength to face anything life presents. That joy and resulting strength is my wish for you this December and into the coming year.

​May the joy of the Lord be your strength.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases. His mercies never come to an end.” Are you singing with me?
​
Our God is awesome, and He should be the only recipient of that adjective. The attributes of God is a whole other topic, but have you ever listed the names of our Lord?

Holy and Righteous One
Chief cornerstone
High Priest
Anointed One
King of kings
Lord of lords
The Good Shepherd
Refuge
Faithful
The Way
Messiah
Savior
Lamb of God
Wonder Counselor
Prince of Peace
Bright Morning Star
Redeemer
The Door
Emmanuel
Alpha and Omega
Lord of Glory
The Most High
Rabbi – Teacher
The Word of God
The Truth
The Great I AM
Holy is Your Name
Life-Giver
Hiding Place
Mighty Warrior
Bread of Life
My first Love
Faithful and True
God Almighty
True Vine
Light of the World
Ancient of Days
The Way, Truth, and Life
The Gate
Resurrection
ALL in ALL
Lover of my soul
Incarnate Diety
Everlasting Father
Counselor
Mighty God
Wonderful
King of Nations
Dayspring
Key of David
Root of Jesse
Lord of angel armies
King of Glory
First and the Last
Rock
Shield
Defender
Stronghold

Since He is a Person of the God-head, those names apply to God as well. How can we not focus on Him during and after reading such picture-forming titles? To me, the most powerful name (if such a thing exists when it comes to our God) is YAHWEH.
​
It is natural to draw in a breath on Yah and exhale on weh. Try it. I’ve sung lyrics that say breathe in His grace and breathe out His praise. It brings to mind the way God breathed creation into existence and life into Adam.
​

YAHWEH

​Yahweh
Breathe in His grace
Yahweh
Breathe out His praise
Yahweh
The giver of life
Yahweh
The life sustainer
Yahweh
Offers steadfast love
Yahweh
Equals love eternal
Yahweh
Breathe in His grace
Yahweh
Breathe out His praise.

​Thanks be to God for all He has done. The world fades away in His presence. May you be eternally grateful this November, and focus on Him as you decorate for Christmas.
​

I was late finding words for this month, which I usually tell you is my favorite time of year. The past six months I feel as though I worked like I did in my forties. Constantly doing something (that included moving over 100 pavers to form paths around the house). I cleared rock beds of weed and leaf debris that I hadn’t touched for far too long, and pulled weeds in what were once flower beds. In other words, I spent a lot of time outside.

For some reason, I’ve noticed that every year a particular weed (or two or three) becomes newly invasive and tries to take over. Actually, a cucumber vine did just that, which reminded me of kudzu in the South. And then my imagination went off to scenes from an old Twilight Zone episode. Why I remember it, I have no idea. A woman in a small cottage looks out her back window each day to see that she’s losing more and more of her backyard. Each day, the vine has crept closer. Eventually, the vine covers her windows and what remains is up to the viewer’s ending. Ugh. Why did I think of that so many times?!

June and July held special treats. Two nights during each month, my youngest, nine-year-old granddaughter, and seven-year-old great-granddaughter, stayed with us. What joy their smiles and young hearts brought to us. I look forward to playing Scrabble with each of these smarties.

Sad to admit, writing was not my priority this summer. I somehow finished the first draft of a novella and know where I’ll begin the second story. I also put together strip-quilted blocks for seven table toppers, four of which will be gifts. Sewing and working with yummy fabric go-togethers satisfies a special need in the creative corner of my heart.

Now I plan for time spent with my Lord and opening up my senses without constantly considering what I have next on my to-do list. A recent reminder from a Sunday morning service, “Remember Jesus Christ,” keeps rolling through my mind. My YAHWEH and His Son, Jesus are never in a hurry. God’s timing is perfect.

I have also worked off and on exercises (Morning Pages proved not for me years ago) in Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way. Each year, I try to read one motivational book for writers. We never know when a new spark will hit, but sometimes need to approach from a different viewpoint.

This October and November, I hope to relax into my writing inspired by long walks in the path cleared near our windbreak this summer. I understand a bark beetle bored into the trunks of pine trees across the nation. We had at least twenty dead pines that have now been cleared. As I traverse that trodden path from big equipment, I’ve tossed aside rounded pieces of wood that I could roll my ankle on. I’ve also chopped out volunteer trees formed from deep roots beneath my feet.

I’d like to close with a reminder that looking up Charlie Kirk and his ministry, now carried on by his wife Erika, should revive any depressed or downtrodden heart. (Such emotions are common coming up on the holidays.) Remember Jesus Christ.
​
Until next time…

One of my favorite fictional settings is the one I created for Creighton’s Hideaway. The Nebraska area that I love most is around Verdigre, Verdel, and the Niobrara River.

Thus, I used basically the same place when I wrote Without A Song. Rather than a ranch with rental cabins, I chose a big house with a wraparound porch for a B&B. As with all my series, I had no idea the first story would go on and turn into three for the Ivy’s Inn Series. Without a Home was born after 2019 floods, and third came Without a Dream.

I’m sensing that the third in Ivy’s Inn series didn’t get enough notice, I wanted to go deeper and tell the story behind the story.

My dear Aunt Violet began journaling in the 1970s. She filled lined spiral notebooks. In 1979, I gave her a blank book. (A few years later, I began journaling in blank books also.) She wrote a variety of things. Among them were everyday occurrences, poetry, and stories of her childhood. She composed personal poems for siblings and other family members. Into her eighties she wrote, and shared a lot of her writings with me.

A young woman with a scarred and loveless background entered her life, there but a short time. Aunt Violet wrote a beautiful letter to her, assuring her that despite her upbringing and abuse, she was worthy of love. Our Lord Jesus is the Lover of souls. And no matter where we begin life on this earth, each of us should dream of betterment.

The poignancy of that letter stayed with me for a long time and I often wondered what it would be like as either daughter or mother in the position of my aunt’s young friend.

Five years ago, I blogged that I found myself pregnant at age nineteen. Had my circumstances been different, without love and support, what could I have thought it best to give up my child?

I chose a rough backstory for the heroine of Without a Dream. “Josey Dale had a tragic childhood, and gave birth at age thirteen. She believes the truth is too true to tell. Since her daughter recently married, there’s no reason to watch from afar, and Josey is now left without dreams of her own.”

The story is dedicated to anyone who has ever had a dream. God puts His desires within our hearts. Our job is to listen and follow through. Sometimes we need to take detours and zigzag our way along the journey, but if what we want aligns with God’s will for us, those dreams will come to fruition.

And to any mother who has given up her infant. Bless you for loving that child so much.
​
I wrote a fictitious letter to a “lost” daughter in 1990, for which I won best fiction in the adult category. “A Letter to Amy” will be my September blog.