Happy Thanksgiving to all of you special readers!
Take time today to quiet yourself and reflect on those things for which you are the most thankful. Be present today in your celebrations and savor every moment surrounded by your family.
From my happy little family to yours–Happy Thanksgiving!
1 Thessolonians 5:18- Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
Psalm 107:1- Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.
Welcome to my very own Creative Writing Month where each day of the month I am focusing on a topic and spending fifteen minutes reflecting and writing as inspired by the topic. For more information about why and how check out my post, Writing Down the Bones.
Today’s topic: Write about the most terrified you have ever been in your life.
It was an early August afternoon. The sun’s rays were bright and growing brighter as we made our ascent to the top of a Virginian mountain peak on part of the Virginia Turnpike. The thermostat in the car stated the fact that the temperature outside our air conditioned vehicle was 97 degrees Fahrenheit. Sam and I were carelessly singing along to some Top 40 radio station in the middle vehicle of the family caravan home from our vacation. The trip had been our final excursion before the arrival of our beautiful baby girl. I was eight months pregnant and already experiencing Braxton-Hicks. Even our doctor had recommended that we didn’t take this final vacation due to some of the signs of preterm-labor I had shown the day before our departure. However, I was stubborn and wanted this last trip for myself. Who knows when I might get another opportunity to get away like this with my husband? I thought to myself.
We had been on the road for about four hours. We were behind schedule due to my frequent bathroom breaks. And we killed time between my timed Braxton-Hicks contractions by singing and talking about how our life was about to change in the next few weeks.
As we made our way up the middle of an extremely steep mountain an oily liquid sprayed the windshield of our Ford Focus. At first we were unsure about where the liquid had come from, but then the engine began to smoke and it was clear that our vehicle was malfunctioning. (Just to add salt to the wound this was the moment that would cause Sam and I to have to replace our engine of 12,000 miles with a used engine of 90,000 and would set into motion another terrible event a year and a half later…but that’s a story for a different day.)
In a moment of panic Sam pulled off to the minimal road shoulder. The car was smoking so we both had to make our way out of the vehicle quickly. We found ourselves in the overgrown grass on the side of a mountain. Not sure if the car was going to catch on fire Sam helped me over the guard rail so we could get a safe distance away from the car. On one side of us sat our overheated car on the other side a cliff off the side of the mountain. It was hard enough to balance myself with all the added baby weight let alone at the steep incline of the mountain. Fear overcame me and I realized the reality of the situation. At this point we had lost vision of the rest of our caravan and it was just Sam, a smoking car, and me in the 97 degree heat stranded on the top of a mountain.
Sam cleared a place for me to sit in the grass while he called for a tow. I tried every method of calming myself that I could think of, but my contractions were picking up and gaining momentum. Each set of contractions made me panic more as I was spiraling into active labor. Sam was a few feet away unable to move because he had finally tapped into cell service. We quickly discovered that we were about fifteen minutes away from any other town and the tow truck wouldn’t be there for about an hour. The best they could do was send a service vehicle to alert traffic that we had broken down so that oncoming traffic would move over to the left lane. That was more for their safety than ours as our car was still smoking.
After he got off of the phone with the towing company Sam called the rest of the family who had gone on ahead of us. They reasoned that there wasn’t much they could do and stopping on the side of a mountain would put the rest of the family in danger so they decided to pull off in the next town and wait for us to get there. (We purposely didn’t mention the contractions in an attempt to keep them calm.)
About fifteen minutes later a vehicle from the local Department of Transportation pulled off to the side of the road with all the blinking lights and alarms they could use to alert the rest of the drivers on the turnpike of our dangerous vehicle and location. It was nice that the cars were no longer in the lane ten feet from me going eighty-five miles per hour. I was as far away from the road as I could be without toppling down the cliff and I could still feel the excessive wind from each passing car. Eventually the man emerged from his alerting vehicle and took one look at me and panicked.
“Um, Sir?” The man spoke to my husband who was once again in the distance trying to get a hold of the insurance company. “I think we better get her to the next town before you have a baby on the side of the road. I’ll leave you here, but she needs to go.”
The man and Sam decided to tell my parents who were waiting in the next town to come and get me. The guy waited with Sam until the tow truck got there an hour later. I know that I would not have lasted that other hour without going into full-blown active labor, so luckily my parents had decided not to continue the rest of the journey without us.
When I was finally in their car they cranked up the air conditioning. They drove me to a Subway in Wytheville, VA and I drank several bottles of water. After a little rest and fluid intake the contractions began to slow down.
Not long after my contractions were under control Sam finally met me in the restaurant. We were both safe and it was such a relief. I went on to carry Arianna for another month. She was born a little over a week before her due date in mid-September.
When I look back on this event in my life I see how God was protecting us. Things could have been so much worse, but God provided for a safe return home for all of us. I’m so grateful that my husband did not have to deliver my baby on the side of a mountain on the Virginia Turnpike.
Hey, guys! I know I’ve been a little short on my posts this week, but I have a lot of things going on to share with you to make up for lost time. I’ve continued to work on my Creative Writing Month posts. Most of my writings have made their way to my blog, but others have taken a temporary place of residence in my Writing Notebook. I still plan to carry out the plan through the remainder of the month so stay tuned for more creative writing posts over the next two weeks.
One reason that I’ve taken a little breather this week from my blog is because I have begun to evaluate some of my writing goals. As I look back to last year’s resolutions I am reminded of my goal to finish a novel in a year. At the time it seemed like a ridiculous goal, but as I’m now 75% done with my novel I see that this is something within my grasp by December 31.
In order for me to meet this goal of mine I will need to be a little more diligent over the next month to make sure that I am carving out the necessary time from my schedule to make it happen. Over the past couple of days I’ve drawn out a plan and as long as I can work up the discipline to see it through I should be finished with draft 1 of my first novel by the end of the year! Amen!
So as I chase down this goal I have a couple of requests for my dedicated readers:
First of all, please be in prayer for me and my family as I put myself into overdrive to see this happen. I plan to do most of my writing when my family is away or asleep, but still it is a huge undertaking on all three of us. I feel very strongly that this novel and its message are from God or else I wouldn’t be pouring the time and effort into it that is required.
Second of all, I ask you, dear readers, to be patient. The content of my blog between now and December 31 may be shorter than normal. I don’t want to simply be posting just to tick something off my to-do list for the day. The plan is to continue routine posts, but the routine may be a little less frequently than it has come to be lately.
Thirdly, After my novel draft 1 is finished I will be looking for some beta readers to help in the editing process. Please pray about whether you would like to be a part of that team to help take my rough draft to the next level. I will be assembling that team in February or March if all goes according to plan.
I have always said that my readers are such a blessing. Blogging has brought so many encouraging people across my path. Also, this blog has opened doors to several opportunities and conversations that may never have happened had I not stepped out in such a public way. I am so grateful and thankful for those who follow and read my blog and I can’t wait to journey into 2016 with you all!
Have a blessed Thanksgiving week-for you I am thankful!
This week the topic for the Five Minute Friday link-up post is Dwell. What is a link-up? Essentially a link-up is when you join other bloggers and write on a similar topic. You share your blog posts with one another and begin conversations via a host site. You can head over to Kate Motaung’s page to check out other entries from inspired bloggers. Here’s my five minutes of uninterrupted, unedited writing on this week’s topic:
In the bustle of the season it is easy to neglect rest. There are so many potlucks, family gatherings, and gifts to be purchased. But in the midst of the busy schedules it is important to take time to dwell in the moment.
This Holiday season I vow to dwell in a place of peace. What does that look like?
To me, to dwell in peace means to not be overcome by the expectations of the season. Rather it means to live fully in each moment and to be present in the day to day interactions with friends and family. It means to not allow my schedule to dictate my life, but to put family as my first priority. Additionally, to dwell in peace means to fix my eyes on God and truly allow Him to lead my life and guide my path.
I have a tendency to stress myself out when there are several items on my priority plate, but this season my goal is to remain calm and trust the Lord to help me through each moment of every day.
After all, the point of the season is to relish time with family and friends and show gratitude for the people in life who mean the most.
Isaiah 26:3- “You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You.”
Welcome to my very own Creative Writing Month where each day of the month I am focusing on a topic and spending fifteen minutes reflecting and writing as inspired by the topic. For more information about why and how check out my post, Writing Down the Bones.
Today’s topic: Write about swimming.
I took a deep breath and plunged my whole self below the surface of the undulating water. The coolness surrounded every inch of my body and bid me to relax each muscle. As I held my breath I pushed off the ground below me with my legs and surrendered my body to the waves. The strength of my arms began to guide my unanchored frame through the tunnel they had created. Pushing aside all resistance I continued to press forward. Through the throwing off all my control I experienced tranquility.
Welcome to my very own Creative Writing Month where each day of the month I am focusing on a topic and spending fifteen minutes reflecting and writing as inspired by the topic. For more information about why and how check out my post, Writing Down the Bones.
Today’s topic: Write about one of your grandparents.
I am extremely blessed. I have lived twenty-five years with four of the most supportive and kind grandparents. I couldn’t just focus on one of these awesome grandparents today. I could also go on for hours about how each of them have shaped me into who I am today: Grandmothers who taught me what it means to be a strong and driven woman and Grandfathers who provided wonderful models for loving, successful men. All of them have taught me confidence and the importance of family. I am extremely blessed by all four of these amazing people.
Grandma Lois has taught me how to have pride in my home and family. She supported me in every endeavor and continues to keep up-to-date with each of her grandchildren even as life pulls us so many different directions. Grandma loves each of her grandchildren dearly and that is evident in her excitement each time we call or arrive in her home. She worked hard for many years as an administrative assistant and I’ve inherited some of her tenancies for particulars and detail-oriented behaviors.
Grandma Ann began to teach me what a beautiful woman truly was from a young age. She has always been a model of beauty on the inside and outside. I’ve learned strength, grace, and kindness from having her as a role model in my life.
My grandfathers are hard working and genuinely nice men. One retired from a career in education and the other from a job in the insurance field. Both are very successful men and I am proud to call both of them “Grandpa.”
Grandpa Tom may be in his early seventies, but can still whip youngsters in golf and table tennis. A few times a year he defends his title as Ping-Pong Champion at family gatherings by defeating my husband who is nearly fifty years his junior. He is a part of the Hall of Fame at the high school where he graduated as a three sport athlete: football, wrestling, golf.
Grandpa Harold recently was invited to a high school in southern Ohio to give a graduation address. His career in education helped me in my career decisions. When I had my first teaching interview I sat at his kitchen table the night before listening to his tips and wisdom for the next day. He coached me through what to expect and gave me pointers on what principals are looking for in candidates.
Welcome to my very own Creative Writing Month where each day of the month I am focusing on a topic and spending fifteen minutes reflecting and writing as inspired by the topic. For more information about why and how check out my post, Writing Down the Bones.
Today’s topic: Write about the streets of your hometown.
Tall, brick businesses line the paved roads of my hometown. Each Victorian Giant stands guard over the sidewalk blocking the sun from the pedestrians who venture out below. These are the streets I’ve grown up on. A quaint town full of hidden gems and places that have become very much a part of me. People have come and gone in my life, but the streets of my hometown have virtually stayed the same. They are a constant, unmoving entity in life. Yes, businesses have changed or shifted locations, and the evils of fire have stolen from the town, but no other place in the world will feel as much a part of me as my first dwelling. My hometown.
As a child I walked these streets in tow with my parents. Clinging to their hands I visited shops, marched in parades, and strolled through the most beautiful parts of the town. As a pre-teen I cycled up the hills, through alleyways and toward the center of town with neighbors and friends. As a teenager I took to the streets again on foot, but now the city was my course. Instead of walking the cement paths I ran every inch of the city. I trained rigorously in my hometown. My blood, sweat, and tears have been poured over each block of town. In my college days I used these streets for driving. From college to the coffee shop, the grocery store, the parties. And now I continue the cycle as I trod through the city with my daughter.
To share my hometown and memories with my daughter is special. This is not her home or where I’ve chosen to continue my life, but it will always be home for me. For all the times my feet made contact and my eyes took in the wonders of the town I call it mine. Life has removed me from this place that I call home, but it will always hold a special place in my heart.
My hometown is where I go to remember childhood. Innocence. Who I truly am.
This week the topic for the Five Minute Friday link-up post is Weary. What is a link-up? Essentially a link-up is when you join other bloggers and write on a similar topic. You share your blog posts with one another and begin conversations via a host site. You can head over to Kate Motaung’s page to check out other entries from inspired bloggers. Here’s my five minutes of uninterrupted, unedited writing on this week’s topic:
Galatians 6:9- Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.
This week I have been convicted by this verse day in and day out. I’ve struggled with a bit of a bad attitude toward all of the things on my plate. I’ve complained to others around me and also to God about how I’m not getting enough rest, I feel bombarded, and I just don’t have enough “me” time. And every time I’ve heard myself speaking negatively God was putting this particular verse on my heart.
It’s so easy for us to get focused on ourselves. We see our wants and desires and we struggle with giving them up for a greater cause.
I am here to admit that I have grown weary. I have felt bogged down. But it isn’t because I don’t enjoy all of the things I do, rather it is because I’ve allowed my focus to shift from God’s Work and Kingdom to myself.
The end of the verse is particularly encouraging to me. If we continue to serve God in the ways in which he calls us we will reap a harvest. That harvest may not be reaped for days, weeks, or years, but we are rewarded for all that we do to further the kingdom. Scripture never once mentions a reward for getting eight hours of sleep every night, getting “me” time each day, or binge watching Netflix.
Focus then on those things that bring an eternal reward. Yes, alone time is necessary and rest in important, but in the grand scheme of things we all have a calling and fulfilling that calling at our appointed time without complaining is what brings glory to God. Doing so without giving up is what helps us to receive a reward. The ultimate reward of which is heaven and eternity with Christ.
Thanks for letting me unpack my attitude and lay it at Christ’s feet with you today!
Welcome to my very own Creative Writing Month where each day of the month I am focusing on a topic and spending fifteen minutes reflecting and writing as inspired by the topic. For more information about why and how check out my post, Writing Down the Bones.
Today’s topic: Write about someone you have loved dearly. Characterize that person.
Today I want to talk about a method I use for characterization in my writing using my sister, Morgan, as an example. Over the past couple of months I’ve been getting more serious about writing and focusing on developing some of my own ideas, stories, and potential novel pitches. I’ve read a few books, dozens of blogs, been a part of countless webinars all of which have helped to shape me and my writing skills. Through my learning I’ve focused a lot on characterization. A large part of a story is centered around the main character. In order for a reader to feel connected to your story they must also feel invested in your main character. One method of characterization which has helped me is known as Character Framing. This is an idea adapted from some of the writer’s whose work I’ve read.
In essence, Character Framing is giving life and descriptions to a character before any formal writing takes place. You begin with a character name and from there you come up with phrases and descriptions which bring your character to life. It is possible to do this exercise without a character name if that has not yet been decided upon. In that case just place an arbitrary title for the character in the middle of the frame. A minimal list will contain five descriptions framing the name of that character for each of the senses, but a better and more rounded view of a character will come from 8-10 descriptions.
As the writer, you should take the time to know your characters before introducing them to the world. What are they like? What is their back story? What goals do they have? These are all good questions to ask as you begin to give life to a real or imagined being in your story.
Here is a look into how I might characterize my sister, Morgan, if ever I should choose to use her as a character. Here is my Character Frame for Morgan:
Welcome to my very own Creative Writing Month where each day of the month I am focusing on a topic and spending fifteen minutes reflecting and writing as inspired by the topic. For more information about why and how check out my post, Writing Down the Bones.
Today’s topic: Write about an early memory.
At what point in time do we begin to consciously remember events of our lives? And, what keeps those memories a part of us for so long? As I scroll through some of the earlier reels of memory within my mind I’m puzzled by why I remember some things so vividly and not others.
I can recall that at the age of three I was watching my Aunt perform at a local choir competition. The auditorium where she performed was a part of the school where I am currently employed. I remember that the entrance was guarded by a police officer and that as I entered the auditorium the officer shook my hand and told me to, “have a good time.” As I watched the performance I recall sitting on the lap of a family friend dancing as I clapped along to the music. Why I so vividly remember this specific day I will never know. To my knowledge there was really nothing significant that took place on this day, but it is one of my earliest memories which has stood the test of time and avoided the land of forgotten memories.
Memory is strange. It can be so true to reality and also so deceitful. Memories can help us to see more clearly things we may have missed or forgotten. To me, it is so strange that there are so many memories I wish I could relive, but over time those ones have faded and even escaped me. What causes us to forget what it was like to be with a lost loved one, but remember sitting on Santa’s lap when we were ten? Without real intention in retaining moments in my mind I lose some of the most important memories to time.
These days, when something happens that I truly wish to remember I record it. I write down the life behind every part of the memory. I go through the five senses and relive the moments so that in my writing I can help train my brain to lead me back to those moments. I write what it was like to hold my daughter for the first time, how it sounded when she said her first word, what it smelled like in the pet shop where we found our kitten, how it tasted to try my very first Jeni’s ice cream, and what it looked like when my student’s understood something new for the very first time.
It is so true that words can bring forth life. The way memories are recorded affect the way we interact with them in the future. That is one of the many reasons why writing is so important in life.
So next time you find yourself thinking, “I wish this day would never end” or “I want to remember this forever,” jot down what it was like in that moment for all five senses. How did it feel, taste, smell, sound, and what did it look like? The more detailed your descriptions, the easier it will be to recreate it in your mind. If you are anything like me you know that memories can come and go, but writing is here to stay. Even when we are gone our words will continue to breathe life.
The Ameri Brit Mom