Tuesday, November 29, 2016


By Ada Brownell

 “I passed by the field of a sluggard, by the vineyard of a man lacking sense, and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns; the ground was covered with nettles, and its stone wall was broken down. Then I saw and considered it; I looked and received instruction. A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest, and poverty will come upon you like a robber, and want like an armed man. (Proverbs 24:30-34 NIV).

The beautiful tune “Dust in the Wind,”[1] recently brought back on American Idol, tells a mournful story of how dreams and lives blow away into nothing but dust. How such a beautiful melody could have these discouraging words is beyond me. Life is a wonderful thing and can be glorious here and forever.  Yet, unless we guard ourselves, all our hopes blow away like topsoil in a wind storm.

A person can’t grow a garden unless he plants, waters, hoes, weeds, and harvests. Often he has to protect plants from worms, animals, frost and pray it won’t hail or flood. In the days when people’s survival depended on growing their own food, most worked every spare moment to reach that dream.

Life is like growing a crop. Yet too many people don’t plant for their future. People who do great things work, try and struggle until they succeed.

One guy who decided to grasp a dream was Paul Tutmarc of Seattle, Washington, who traveled in a band and felt sorry for the acoustic bass fiddle player, who always drove alone because his huge instrument left room in his car only for the driver.

From age fifteen, Paul Tutmarc had an interest in steel guitars—the ones usually used in Hawaiian music. He became an accomplished musician and wanted to magnify the sound of the steel. He looked at the innards of the telephone to see how it worked to pick up sound and began tinkering with it. Bob Wisner, a radio repairman, worked with Paul, and they figured out how to use electronic amplification on musical instruments.

Paul electrified zithers, pianos, and Spanish guitars.

Then he carved an electronic “bass fiddle” about the size and shape of a cello and the first electric bass guitar came into being in 1933. Paul eventually made a forty-two-inch-long solid-body bass, which was lighter and smaller. The guitar was featured in the 1935 sales catalog for Tutmarc’s company, Audiovox.

The bass guitar, however, didn’t become popular until the 1950s, when Leo Fender, with employee George Fullerton, developed the first mass-produced instrument.

Next time you hear a loud, pulsating bass guitar behind a band, remember Paul Tutmarc,[2] who began his music career in a church choir and caught a dream. Paul’s dream took work, practice, and trial and error, and so does becoming the Christian our Creator hopes for us to be.

 Desire and talent don’t necessarily guarantee success, according to experts. Often it is the less talented and gifted who achieve great things because they won’t stop working toward their goals—no matter how many obstacles they face or how often they face rejection or disappointment. On the other hand, greatly talented people can go to their graves without doing anything of significance.

What makes the difference? We decide to take what we were born with and grow it into something greater.

Jesus said, “For whatever a man sows, that he will also reap” (Galatians 6:7 NKJ).

[1] Released by American Progressive Band. Written by Kerry Livgren.
2 http://tutmarc.tripod.com/Paultutmarc.html

Thursday, November 24, 2016

Patti Shene Sees Beyond Grief

Looking Ahead


Patti Shene

Wow, a lot happened in my life in 2016! I knew in January that by the time December rolled around, I would have crossed the line that qualified me as a Medicare recipient.
Yep, I hit that big age 65 landmark in July.

What I did not anticipate was the death of my mom in February, although I was certainly not shocked when God called her to her heavenly home at age 86. I accepted her death with a mixture of relief that she is finally free of pain, and grief that our relationship here on earth now exists through a window of memories.

I anticipated more leg surgery for my husband this year, having been told in 2013 that the graft inserted into his left leg would only last twelve to sixteen months. Miraculously, that artificial vein lasted a year and a half beyond the projected time.

Still, God called him home during open heart surgery in June of this year.

Crossing into widowhood is not something I anticipated at the beginning of this year. I had faced the possibility of caring for my husband as an amputee, but that never happened.

Despite the sorrow, pain, grief, and losses that will mark 2016 in my memory forever, I look to 2017 with a sense of adventure and anticipation.

I’m a new person now, an orphan in place of a daughter, a widow instead of a wife, a child of God seeking His peace, comfort, and the contentment that only He can provide.

I have no doubt new challenges lie ahead. As I see myself in a different light, I am examining my weaknesses and drawing on my strengths.

One of the ways I manage my grief is to reach out to others who are fighting their own battle of hurt, pain, discouragement, and disillusionment. The main focus of my two blogs, Patti’s Porch and The Over 50 Writer is to give authors a place to share the stories behind their work, the struggles they have encountered, and the encouraging words they have for others.

My Blog Talk radio Show, Step Into the Light, is another source of encouragement for those who find themselves in a dark place. My guests share their own experiences with darkness and how they found their way back to light, or the venues they use to lead others to light from the shadows we all encounter in life.

Right now, I feel this is God’s calling for me, although deep inside, I still sense the desire to get my own struggles, life lessons, and insights into print. God has given me a wide range of experiences over my lifetime for a reason, and I sometimes wonder if he placed those twists and turns on my life path so I can guide others through them.

Despite the ruts and gullies I’ve had to navigate over the past year, I have felt the presence of My Heavenly Father every step of the way. I look ahead with confidence that He will guide me out of the valley to the mountaintop.

My prayer for 2017 is that I will make the trip as a willing and eager servant of His.

BIO: Patti has had short work published in two anthologies and local publications. She has three novels in progress. She has conducted workshops at Christian Writers conferences and served as an editor with a small publishing company. Patti loves to promote writers, both published and unpublished, on her two blogs, Patti’s Porch and The Over 50 Writer. She shares stories through personal interviews of those who have found their way from a dark place back to light or those who help others back to light on her weekly Blog Talk Radio show, Step Into the Light.

Patti lives in Southeastern Colorado and is fortunate to reside in the same town as her daughter and fifteen year old granddaughter, her only grandchild. Still, her heart brims with memories of the Adirondack North Country of New York, where she spent many childhood vacations and still returns periodicallyto visit family.

Website           www.pattishene.com

Facebook (Step Into the Light page) -  http://ow.ly/CRNS306koSJ

Wednesday, November 23, 2016

  What’s in that Heavy Load You Carry?  

By Ada Brownell 

Why am I cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted in me? Hope thou in God: for I will yet praise him for the help of his countenance” (Psalm 42:5

            Yes. I praise Him, especially at Thanksgiving for some BIG blessings.

I was parked at a high school waiting for my child after an evening event and couldn’t keep myself from observing students. The teens playfully insulted one another, juggled offensive language into the air like rotten apples, wrapped arms around a few girls, punched buddies, and then I noticed one of them was drunk.

Although his boisterous laughter filled the air, his eyes spoke louder than his mouth. No smile glistened there. My car was parked close enough that I could see the same hopeless look on the faces of other young people around him. Were the youths from broken homes where the single parent also lacked hope? Dysfunctional foster homes? Did the kids’ have a parent who was ill, abusive, an alcoholic, or just unloving? Or had these teens’ own rebellion consumed them?

I’ll never forget the kid who didn’t look over 12 or 13 lying unconcious on the grass in our neighborhood green space. He lay there alone while someone called an ambulance and a half dozen or so of us stood by. I prayed for him, thinking perhaps an accident had happened. I discovered later he suffered from alcohol poisoning, caused by consuming too much alcohol.

I wondered what on earth would cause a nice-looking youngster his age to overdose on alcoholic beverages?

People everywhere are trying to kill the pain of the weights on their minds and their spirits.

If we rummage around in the bag of burdens people carry we find heavy things: anger, grief, hurts, sickness, pain, handicaps, poverty, guilt, grudges, bitterness, lust, hatred, envy, covetousness, rebellion, self doubt, and the agony of never filling the God-shaped place inside us.

Perhaps they have not heard the prophecy about Jesus: “To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the Lord has planted for his own glory” (Isaiah 61:3NLT).
            Jesus confirmed the prophecy was fulfilled in him: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised.” Then He added, “This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears” (Luke 4:18, 21KJ).

I’ve often thought the reason suicide rates, and the consumption of alcohol and illegal drugs coincide with the erasure of faith in God in our homes, schools, government and among our leaders. People try anything to relieve the pain except what works—redemption from sin and the accompanying peace and joy that only comes from God.                                              

The Psalmist experienced discouragement. David wrote the quote at the beginning of this chapter, and sometimes there was a reason for his anguish, because he knew he’d sinned. Perhaps The most notable sin was observing Bathsheba while she was bathing and coveting Uriah the Hittite’s wife. He seduced her, and then called Uriah, one of David’s warrior’s, home from battle thinking if she conceived, the husband would think the child was his.

But Uriah was committed to the war and insisted on returning. So David ordered that the man be sent to the front lines where he would be sure to be killed. He was fatally wounded, and the king married Bathsheba.

The Bible says “Be sure your sin will find you out” (Numbers 32:23), and David was rebuked by the prophet Nathan for what he had done.

Bathsheba was pregnant and in a few months a boy was born. Yet, the infant was sickly and despite all of David’s crying and seeking God for his son’s life, the little one died.

As he does with many of us, even after David repented, Satan kept accusing the king and his sin haunted him. Yet, even before he lay with another man’s wife, he was a sinner. The Bible says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Since Adam and Eve sinned, we’re all born with a sinful nature. That is the reason we’re all prone to sin, destined to die and need a Savior and Redemption.

Sin is a horrible thing and one of the nasty things about wickedness is its effect on us and those against whom we sin. Paul told the Galatians, “Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, that he will also reap” (Galatians 6:7NKJ).

Although wickedness thrived in every generation, it seems a huge crop of wickedness waves in the fields today.

 Yet, there is an answer. “Plant good seed. Connect with God and His mercy will change your life for the better. Jesus said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” Jesus will pull with you!

Don’t forget this promise also, “If we confess our sins He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John: 19.)

Copyright 2016 Ada Brownell

Tuesday, November 22, 2016


Excerpt from Chapter 5: Peach Blossom Rancher
By Ada Brownell
As soon as John Parks opened the gate to the north pasture and lifted the new leather bridle off the sleek animal’s long quivering neck and nose, the black stallion galloped away, stirring the wind
like he’d do on the prairie hills when leading a wild herd. His hooves pounded until the ground trembled under John’s feet. The stallion’s majestic body, head stretched forward, tail and mane flying, streaked along the morning skyline like the champion he should be.

Pinions scented the cool breeze in the early morning light.

The horse came to the white three-rail fence at the north end of the pasture, pivoted abruptly, and rounded the pasture again at a full run.

Bile filled John’s stomach and tongue. Would the formerly abused animal jump the fence?

The mare grazing nearby in the green field tilted her head toward the galloping stallion and neighed.

The regal horse swung toward her.

John and Abe walked a distance away to let them get acquainted.

Weariness seemed to spread in John’s young bones as he walked. He felt the weight of caring for the people in his home. How long had it been since he’d had a good laugh and no worries?

He sighed, and Abe turned and looked at him.

“The young mama we found in the barn is lots better now.” Abe puffed a little and sounded out of breath as he climbed up the hill. “The babe doesn’t cry as much, either. What you gonna do with ’em? Polly said you was a prayin’ ’bout it.”

John rubbed his cheek. The scar seemed to be shrinking some. “You know I wish God would talk to us out loud. Abe, how do you know what to do when it comes to making hard decisions?”

Abe blinked his dark eyes. The fluttering lashes now had grown white, like most of his curly hair. “Oh, God speak to us all right.” He patted the area near his heart. “Sometimes I hear ’im right here. Other times, when I’s reading the Bible, his will is loud and clear. Right regularly when the preacher gets wound up on Sundays, he say things straight from God. The main thing is to decide to do God’s will even before he shows it to you. Then when things develop a certain way, you know what ya s’pose to do.”

“I think I need to do more readin’ and prayin’.” John trudged toward the house.

After John cleaned up for dinner, his gaze followed Bellea Peabody as she brought the baby to the table and sat down shyly, tipping her face downward, letting the light show freckled skin as pale as a bucket of milk. Her shabby dress clung close to her body, and he guessed her bones filled out the garment.

Abe prayed another powerful prayer for each person around the table, and goose bumps raised over John as he whispered his own prayer before lifting his head. Tears pooled in Bellea’s eyes but didn’t spill onto her cheeks.

“My daddy used to pray.” Soft and shaky, her voice barely broke the stillness. “Thank you for praying for me and helping me. But I must be going. I can’t keep eating your food forever.”

“You’re welcome to stay here until you find a job.” John didn’t even need to think about it.

“I … I don’t know if I can get a job with little David Jonathan to care for.”

A horse and carriage rumbled into the yard. Taking another gulp of coffee, John stood. A woman in a fancy black hat and velvet cape hopped down and charged forward like a rooster ready to flog.

Bellea gasped and ran for the bedroom, leaving her plate.

A fist or a foot rattled the door.

“I heard you have a young woman and baby here.” The red-faced woman barged through the door. “I’m Mrs. Davenport. I have reason to believe you harbor a girl who used to work for me. The boy she delivered is my grandson. I’m not leaving the child for a trollop to raise. I want the babe.”

John stared at the woman until he realized his jaw hung open. He closed his mouth tight.

“She enticed my son, and now she can bear the consequences. Besides, she has no money to care for the boy.” Her voice rose to a higher pitch. “Let me see him. Where is he?”

Sunday, November 20, 2016


Apology: The publisher notified me Sunday afternoon that KDP wouldn't allow this book to be free on Sunday, so the dates were changed. So sorry for those who tried to get it!

PEACH BLOSSOM RANCHER FREE Nov. 20-24 here http://ow.ly/QzlIP

 By Ada Brownell

 From Chapter Nine
     After a short nap, John reached for the thick letter from Valerie with fresh enthusiasm. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad day after all.
    As he read her beautiful penmanship, bad news seemed to hang on every word like those big worms on Polly’s tomato vines in the summer. Little Christian had been injured but was recovering miraculously, with the broken bone healed and the boy beginning to learn to walk again.
     Then she described a court case she and Archibald had filed, hoping to get a young man released from the state asylum. Excitement filled every word she wrote.
     John tucked the letter in a bureau drawer. Valerie’s mother hoped her daughter would marry Archibald. That lawyer would never drag Valerie off to live on a horse and peach ranch in Colorado.
     Valerie had been to law school. John didn’t know if she graduated, but she could practice law without the degree. All she needed to do was get a license, and her father could help. For all John knew, she already had the law license.
     He shook his head, and his heart quivered with it. Being married to an even-tempered beautiful woman like Valerie would help keep him at peace. Ed’s face popped into his mind. He stomped down the stairs, snatched his jacket off the wall, and headed outside. He’d feed and water the horses, check the pigs, load up all the rabbits he could, and go into town.
     Abe met him outside the barn. “Ya look like a mountain lion about ready to attack. You upset about somethin’?”
     John felt himself change into a bedraggled kitten that escaped a gunnysack and swam the river. “Guess I’m too tired to deal with everything.” He swallowed, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat. Grown men didn’t cry.
     “You too tired. God know about the murder. He know about the horses and ya bills. He know about the peach crop. He know about pigs and rabbits gettin’ out. A heavy load on ya shoulders. We’s gonna pray, but first, let’s think about things we are thankful about. The peach harvest saved by our work in the night. Lift up your eyes. The weather warmed and will heat the soil, so we probably won’t have the danger of another late frost.”
     John nodded, feeling he’d shaken a little sadness from his fur.
     “Your herd of nice horses are grazing in a green pasture. Then you got all those rabbits to sell for Stuart, and that probably will make him and his parents happy. An’ next week would be a good time to take some pigs to the auction. You don’t need to feed all of ’em any longer. It’s time to sell the bigger ones.”
     A horse pounded up to the barn with a smiling Edwina on its back. “Papa connected with some of his friends, and we have the stallion’s stud services lined up for the next month. The telephone gives Papa a chance to do important business.”
     John’s heart did a romp in his chest. “That’s good news. The phone comes in handy.”
     Edwina jumped off the horse and grabbed John’s hand and tipped her face sideways, lips pursed serious. “Are you sick? You look like you can barely stand up.”
     “Abe and I stayed up most of the night keeping our smudge fires going on account of possible frost. We saved the blossoms. Guess I’m tired. Besides the pigs getting out yesterday, Stu’s rabbits got out this morning. We’re taking as many as we can to town to sell. I think Abe will dress them, and we’ll try to sell the pelts.”
     Ed snuggled close to his side. “You should take a long nap. Then you’ll be ready to take the world on again.”
     John searched out her big blue eyes. Some of her sparkle ignited in his heart. He had a good notion to kiss her. Maybe he ought to give up and quit fighting falling in love with her. Yet compared to living with Valerie, life with Ed would be a wild ride.
     They walked together hand in hand, strength from the woman at his side oozing into his heart. Then Ed jerked, wrenched away from him, and screamed. They’d wandered too close to the hog pen again. This time pig slobber dripped from her riding outfit.

 ©Ada Brownell 2016

Summary of Peach Blossom Rancher

 an historical romance

Sequel to The Lady Fugitive, second in Peaches and Dreams series

By Ada Brownell

A handsome young man with a ranch in ruin and a brilliant doctor confined to an insane asylum because of one seizure. Yet their lives intersect. How will they achieve their dreams?
John Lincoln Parks yearns for a wife to help make the ranch all it should be after his uncle, a judge, ravaged it before he was murdered. John has his eye on his sister Jenny’s elegant matron of honor, Valerie MacDougal, a young widow. But Valerie, a law school graduate, returns to Boston to live. John and Valerie write, but while in Boston Valerie and one of her father’s law partners try to get three patients wrongfully judged as insane out of the Boston asylum—and they spend a lot time together.
Will John marry Valerie or Edwina Jorgenson, the feisty rancher-neighbor who has been in love with John since they were in grade school? Edwina’s father is in a wheelchair and she’s taking care of their ranch. John tries to help and protect this neighbor who has a Peeping Tom whose bootprints are like the person’s who dumped a body in John’s barn. But John and Edwina fuss at one another constantly. Will John even marry, or be hanged for the murder?
Free Nov. 20-24: http://amzn.to/2arRVgG
If you would like to know about the first book in the series, The Lady Fugitive, it's available here http://ow.ly/QzlIP
The Lady Fugitive
By Ada Brownell
You’ll enjoy this historical romance set in 1908. How does a respected elocutionist become a face on a wanted poster?
Jenny Louise Parks, 17, escapes from the coal bin, and her abusive uncle offers a handsome reward for her return. Because he is a judge, he will find her or he won’t inherit her parents’ ranch.
Determination to remain free grips Jenny, especially after she meets William and there’s a hint of romance. But while traveling about the country peddling household goods and showing one of the first Passion of the Christ moving pictures, he discovers his father’s brutal murder.
            Will Jenny avoid the bounty hunters? Can she forgive the person who turns her in?
2015 Laurel Award runner-up.
#Review The Lady Fugitive. You’ll laugh, bite your nails; wish you had a gun to help. http://ow.ly/QzlIP
About the Author
When Ada Brownell sat down to write The Peach Blossom Rancher, she drew from her experiences growing up in Colorado’s Peach Country, picking peaches and working in a packing shed.
In addition, she uses some of what she learned about mental illness covering the Colorado Mental Health Institute at Pueblo on her beat as a journalist for The Pueblo Chieftain. In her work, she received a list from the Board of Lunacy Commissioners showing supposed cause of insanity of patients admitted in 1899-1900 and 1909-1910. She uses part of that list in this book and used that information in developing some characters. However, in Peach Blossom Rancher the mental hospital is in Boston, and everything about the asylum is fiction.
Peach Blossom Rancher is Book Two in the author’s Peaches and Dreams series, the sequel to The Lady Fugitive, another Western/historical romance. Both books will stand alone.
Ada is the author of five other books, about 350 stories and articles in Christian publications, and is now retired from The Pueblo Chieftain.
Get Peach Blossom Rancher here:  http://amzn.to/2arRVgG
Connect with Ada:
Twitter: @AdaBrownell
Barnesandnoble.com http://ow.ly/PUWHO

Tuesday, November 15, 2016


She screamed, "I'm lost!

By Ada Brownell

The day my Aunt Marge gave her heart to Jesus, her life turned from sorrow to joy.

I was only a kid. My whole family witnessed what happened.

Aunt Marge screamed out in the church service, interrupting the pastor’s sermon. “I’m lost!”

Ever since Jesus came, people have talked about being “saved,” but before they can be saved they realize they are lost. They don’t know for sure about how to get to heaven and how to avoid hell. Most everyone would like to be saved from eternal death and receive everlasting life, but they wander about devising their own ideas about the right way to go.

Well Marge knew the way, but she realized she’d strayed. She ran to the altar and screamed and cried, asking God to forgive her sins and save her.

My siblings and I watched wide-eyed. My Mama and several people went forward to pray with her. Suddenly the joy hit. Aunt Margae started shouting praises to God and danced all around the church sanctuary.

She was probably in her 30s then and joy became part of who she was. As a senior citizen she danced in my kitchen one time when she and her son visited. Before they left, she danced in a little circle and sang “The Lord bless you and keep you.”

Our family never forgot what we saw, nor how we witnessed her turning from sin and living joyfully for God, often winning others to Him. The first thing she did when she went to assisted living near the end of her life was win her nurse to the Lord. Her joy was catching!

Joy still bubbled, even in times of trouble, until she was in her 90s and went dancing off into heaven.

Her experience reminds of the day a lame beggar asked Peter and John for alms. The event occurred shortly after the day of Pentecost when the Holy Ghost was poured out on the 120 in the Upper Room.

“Silver and gold have I none,” Peter said to lame beggar. “But such as I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and walk.”

Peter took him by the right hand and immediately his feet and ankle bones received strength. “So he, leaping up, stood and walked and entered the temple with them—walking, leaping and praising God” (Acts 2:6-8).

King David danced before the Lord with all his might as they brought the ark back to Israel (See 2 Samuel 6:14).

I’ve seen numerous people dance before the Lord. Most were healed or had a significant encounter with God. I’ve never danced, although my inner spirit usually dances with others when God does a work in them and tears of joy flow down my face.

I have a character in my latest book, Polly, who dances when she’s filled with joy. Readers get to know Polly well. Here’s what Deirdre Lockhart at Brilliant Cut Editing, one of my editors, said about Polly: “By the way, I want Polly to live near me. Not just for the food, which made my mouth water, but she made my spirit sing too. I feel my absolute faith a little stronger after living with her and Abe this week.”

The Bible often speaks about followers of Jesus Christ being filled with joy.

“In His presence is fullness of joy” (Psalm 16:11).

“Joy unspeakable and full of glory” (1 Peter 1:8).

The fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, meekness, faithfulness, self control (Galatians 5:22).

“Make a joyful noise unto the Lord all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness; come before his presence with singing” (Psalm 100: 1-2).

The theme of Paul’s letter to the Philippians is “rejoice!”

Let God fill up your joy tank, and express it so others will know. If necessary, dance.

Here's an excerpt from Peach Blossom Rancher showing Polly in a moment of joy.

Polly put her hands on his already bowed head and in a loud voice quoted Scripture on God’s mercy, forgiveness, and love for the sinner. Then she got happy and shouted, sang and danced all over the parlor. Wellington stared, his face twitching. She pulled him to his feet again, his cold hand trembling in hers. He seemed sober now.

He squeezed her hand. “Thank you. But you’re right. I’m a lowdown useless worm. Keep praying for me.”

With that, he was gone, his horse galloping as if the devil himself chased him.

 Get Peach Blossom Rancher Here

Monday, November 7, 2016



“I would hurry to my place of shelter, far from the tempest and storm.” Psalm 55:8

Our eleven-year-old English shepherd dog, Lady, tries to hide from thunderstorms. She lacks reasoning intelligence to know that she really can’t hide from an electrical storm. But hearing the first faint rumble of thunder, Lady tucks her bushy tail, creeps almost in a crouch toward her doghouse and fits her beautiful big body inside. That is where she feels great safety from any impending harm. Inside her house, she is certain that the booming thunder can’t reach her. No matter how long the storm lasts, she remains there until quiet again prevails and skies clear before she ventures out again.
Watching Lady’s behavior, I’m reminded how we can turn toward God at trouble’s first nudge. The doghouse gives Lady shelter from the storm. God can do the same for us. He offers us protection and comfort, shelter from the world’s turbulence. The Bible tells us that just as an earthly father provides for his children, God can give us much more.
Do you have a fear that you must hide from? Is there something so big and noisy in your mind that you have to go someplace safe to get away from it? I don’t like the dark—ever—period. But if I leave even the smallest light bulb burning, I feel I’m sheltered and safe. Even if I remain in the same location as I was in the dark, that tiny light relieves my fear.
God tells us that the devil prowls around looking for those he can destroy. When we sense the devil’s threats to our Christian commitment, we can follow Lady’s example: Move away from impending danger; hurry to our Shelter.

I offer an eBook copy of the book for a giveaway. Please leave a comment.


Jo Huddleston is an Amazon Bestselling author of books, articles, and short stories. Novels in her West Virginia Mountains series and her Caney Creek series are sweet Southern historical romances. Her novels are endorsed by Amanda Cabot, Lillian Duncan, Cara Lynn James, Sharlene MacLaren, and Ann Tatlock. The redeeming story of God’s pursuing love is the foundation of her novels, and in them you will find inspiration, hope, and gentle stories that are intriguing and entertaining. Jo is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and the Literary Hall of Fame at Lincoln Memorial University (TN). Learn more at www.johuddleston.com


Will Rose find the solitude she seeks during her island summer or is solitude what she really wants? 

A compelling story of one woman’s pursuit of restoration from physical abuse at the hands of her fiancĂ©. Rose Marie Henley’s Great-Aunt Clara convinces Rose to spend the summer at her South Carolina beach house. 

Aunt Clara’s handyman sends his nephew to repair Rose’s water heater. Last year Rose would have been excited to see his over-the-top handsome nephew, Frank Sutton. But now she doesn’t want any man in her life again. 

Frank has an instant attraction to Rose. Can he break through her defenses? He’ll do anything to protect her, but will she open her heart to trust him? 

Buy Link for book:

Links to Huddleston Online:

Website and blog (Read novel first chapters here): http://www.johuddleston.com

Sign up for Jo’s mailing list: http://bit.ly/1ZFaZwG

Amazon author page: http://amzn.to/2cfSroU

Facebook author page: http://bit.ly/2aqFEeT

Facebook personal page: http://on.fb.me/1Ubic69

Inspirational blog: http://bit.ly/1QAPRnr



March 1952 – Columbia, South Carolina

Although engaged to be married for three months now, Rose Marie Henley had a lot more to learn about Walter Morgan.

Rose straightened her tiny kitchen after the celebration supper she’d prepared for Walter and joined him in the living room where he watched her black and white television. He always had the TV on or his handsome nose stuck in the pages of the newspaper or a magazine, claiming he had to keep up with the markets and business trends. She sat on the arm of his overstuffed chair, but he took no notice of her.

She admired his handsome face, the set of his strong jaw, and the full lips that kissed so well. Rose touched his shoulder and ran her fingers through his black hair. “Did you enjoy the meal?”

He finally focused his dark eyes on her but stole glances at the TV. “Sure.”

“You about ready to leave for the movie?” she asked.

“No, I’m not going. We can spend the evening here.”


“I don’t want to go. I’ve had a hard week at the bank.”

“Well, my week teaching a classroom of junior high kids wasn’t exactly a picnic, but I’m not complaining. Come on, we don’t want to miss the beginning of the movie.”

He left his chair and faced her. “I said I’m not going!”

“But we’ve planned all week to see the movie. If you won't go with me, I’ll go with Amy.”

“So, you’ll get Amy to take my place?”

“Your place is with me at the movie, but if you don't go, then I’ll go with Amy.”

He started for the door. “Fine. I’ll pick you up for church in the morning.”

“Walter, please don’t go. We can—”

He slammed the door behind him.

What had gone wrong with the evening? What had caused this sudden turn-around in Walter? Considering she was not usually comfortable in the kitchen, the meal she prepared had turned out quite well. Tonight had been special with tablecloth and candlelight—she wanted to help him to celebrate his promotion at the bank. Afterward, she had turned off the kitchen light and joined him in her living room. Then his outburst and he’d left in a huff. She’d call Amy.


After the movie, Rose drove her new Buick she’d bought last winter to take Amy home. “Thanks for going with me tonight.”

“I’m glad you called. Tell me again why Walter didn’t want to go to the movie with you.”

Rose tried to gather her dark hair as it floated in the breeze coming through the open car windows. “He claimed he’d had a hard week at work and wanted to stay at my apartment this evening.”

“A hard week? What’s with that? We all work. Walter’s always been quite selfish.” She glanced at Rose, waiting for her reaction to her words about Walter. Rose had never realized how attractive she was, with her blemish-free complexion and just enough natural curl in her dark hair that she didn’t have to tame it or curl it. “You could have any guy you wanted—you put up with too much nonsense from Walter. This isn’t the first time he’s pulled something like this on you.”

“I know. It’ll be different after we’re married.”

“I certainly hope so.”

Rose slowed her car to a stop at the curb. “Thanks again for going with me.”

More petite than Rose, Amy bounced from the car and called back through the open window. “Anytime. See you at church in the morning.”

Rose drove to her small, furnished apartment. Walter had promised that when they married, they’d live in a much bigger place and he’d hire a housekeeper for her.

Inside, she’d barely had time to lay her purse on the coffee table, when someone knocked. She went to stand near the front door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me, Walter.”

Rose pulled the door open. Walter stood there, his hair messy and a scowl on his face. “Did you forget something?” she asked.

He pushed her aside as he staggered inside, stood in the middle of the living room, and snarled at her. “Did you enjoy the movie?”

She closed the door. “Yes, Amy and I—”

He stepped closer to Rose and grabbed her upper arm, his grip like a vise. “Amy and you. It’s always you and Amy. Is she taking my place with you?”

“Walter, that’s nonsense. You like Amy, she’s my best friend in the world.”

“That ring on your finger means you belong with me. You shouldn’t have replaced me with Amy tonight.”

The stench of alcohol on his breath shocked her.

Walter let out a string of swear words and slung her across the room. He approached her, stopped just inches away, and breathed hard. She cringed and recoiled from him. What did he expect her to do? With both hands, he shoved her backward. When she slammed against the wall, her entire body underwent a jolting sensation of dismemberment like a puppet with broken strings.

He snatched her upper arm again and whirled her around. When he let her go, she landed on her backside and slid across the tile floor into the coffee table, which slammed against the front of the sofa. The edge of the coffee table ground into her ribs. She had to get out of his reach, but he towered above her, standing between her and the door.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016


By Ada Brownell

A late October day I arrived in Fruita, Colo., screaming. The doctor and Mama grinned, but to some ears it wasn’t a welcome sound.
Mama and Daddy had seven children. I was the eighth and the fifth girl. The family had escaped from the Kansas Dust Bowl and the Great Depression, but feeding and clothing so many wasn’t going to be easy.
Daddy and my oldest brother, Virgil, took jobs shoveling coal from railroad cars into trucks for $1 for a 12-hour day.
Yet, Mama was excited. The two bedroom home with a back porch was theirs—as well as the 10 acres of irrigated farmland. They could grow fruit, a garden. Pasture fed cows and other animals
A greater reason for rejoicing came soon, but at first Mama was horrified. My sister, Marjorie, the first of girls, wanted to go to church with a high school friend. It was the “holy-roller church,” and she didn’t think Marge should go there.
“Oh, let her go,” Daddy said. “I heard they teach young people to obey their parents there.”
Marjorie had a powerful experience with God that changed her from rebellion to loving, and soon God sent friends to my older siblings and they accepted Jesus as Savior. One by one everyone in our family dedicated their lives to God, including Mama and Daddy. At age 5 I knelt at the same altar, weeping, because I wanted my sins to be forgiven before Jesus came back.
Excitement filled the church. The Jews gathered to their homeland for the first time since the destruction of Jerusalem in A.D. 70, fulfilling Ezekiel’s prophecy about the dry bones (and others), meaning Jesus would come soon. I understood.
 It’s amazing how our family affects us. Joy filled our house. When we were together, and it’s still like that, singing and laughter rang. A few times my siblings would get into a scrap, but for the most part love prevailed. We loved work and each person enjoyed what his hands could do. Most of us had a drive to study.
Virgil worked his way through Bible school, began teaching and kept studying until he received a doctorate in education and sociology. Everette worked his way to a degree and became a pastor. Joe got a job and became one of the first in the Assemblies of God to receive a doctorate in music.
Marjorie spent some time in ministry with her husband and much of her life sang in a church trio. A great cook and hostess, she ministered to people through love and friendship.
Clara attended Bible school, worked as a World War II riveter, and often played the piano in church.
Joan played the mandolin and faithfully served the Lord.
Erma used to preach to the barnyard animals and always planned to marry a preacher, but instead she lived a life loving her husband, children and others.
It’s amazing how blessed I am from being in this family. Mama and Daddy seldom had angry words. There was so much music in our house (everybody played an instrument) I don’t remember being unable to sing harmony.
These things I learned from having four sisters:
Marjorie: Have a heart full of love.
Clara: If something needs done, do it.
Joan: Don’t be sexy; be classy.
Erma: Laugh, love and enjoy your life.
After I married, five children filled our home, and even they are blessed. Carolyn is in heaven and the other four and their spouses as well as their children serve God.
Question: What have you learned from your siblings?