Dobsons 411

Moravian Marriage

2012-01-23T11:46:00.000-08:00

I've received a lot of questions and comments about the Moravian custom of marrying by Lot since my main characters in Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania were selected to marry in this way. I recently wrote a blog about this custom and how I discovered that my great-grandparents (to the fifth) were married by Lot in 1758.

Here's the link to the post:

Colonial Quills

A Beautiful Life, Rescued and Changed after Haiti's Quake

2012-01-12T09:36:00.000-08:00

Today is the two-year anniversary of an earthquake that rocked the entire world. And it rocked the lives of our family and friends as we lost our dear brother David Hames in the rubble.

The devastation was unfathomable and yet in the midst of what Satan clearly meant for evil, there are many beautiful stories of what God used and continues to use for good.

Pastor Elizabeth Guelis has one of those stories.

When Ann Menke and I met Pastor Elizabeth, the first thing I noticed about her was her beautiful, infectious, joy-filled smile that lit up her face and eyes like the Haitian sunrise. In her face, you could see the glory of God.

The second thing I noticed was her right leg. It was prosthetic.

Elizabeth’s smile grew even larger when I asked about her leg. Hers, you see, is a story like no other. Instead of bitterness about her loss, the prosthetic leg is a testimony to her of God’s love and grace.

Until the earth shook Haiti two years ago, Elizabeth told me that she and most Haitians didn’t know what an earthquake was. Hurricanes had threatened their country for many years so the buildings were often built with concrete to withstand the terrible winds. The concrete worked well to protect people from the hurricanes, but it was devastating when the earthquake hit.

On that Tuesday afternoon in January, Elizabeth had an appointment to meet an American friend at the woman’s two-story home. The women sat down in the corner of the concrete house to pray, but they hadn’t even begun to talk when the walls began to tremble. Dust filled the house and in an instant, it became so dark that Elizabeth couldn’t see.

Elizabeth tried to get outside, but she’d never visited this woman’s home before. In the darkness, and the dust, she didn’t know which way to go, and she couldn’t see or hear her friend. When she finally made it to the front gate, it was locked. She was trapped inside the compound.

Then the unthinkable happened. A wall collapsed over Elizabeth, pinning her legs. With the lower part of her body under the concrete, the upper half of her body facing the street, she drifted in and out of consciousness for hours.

When Haitians finally broke down the concrete wall around her, her legs were badly cut. Help had not yet arrived in the country so someone put her legs into bleach and then wrapped plastic around them, leaving her to die. Her legs smelled terrible, she told me. I can’t imagine…

Three days later, Americans set up tent hospitals in the streets. She was the first one to be operated on at one of these hospitals. As the people in her church prayed, the Americans amputated her leg.

“I passed out when the American doctor began cutting my leg. I thought I was in heaven because I saw angels all around me.”

Her husband had died seven years ago, and when the doctors told her family she was dead, her three children mourned for her.

But Pastor Elizabeth wasn’t dead. When she woke, there were people crying all around her. She was weak and dizzy, her leg gone, but she was alive. “God would not let me die,” she explained.

For nine months, Elizabeth was in the hospital. God had told several members of her church that she would live, and they continued to pray for her every day.

“I made a promise to God in the hospital. If He would let me live, I would serve Him the rest of my life.”

When she got out of the hospital, Elizabeth went to Bible school. She was glowing when she pulled out a picture from her Bible to show Ann and I. It was a photo of her on her graduation day. June 25, 2011. Elizabeth Guelis is now Pastor Elizabeth. She shares the Word of God with the people in her country and dreams of one day spreading His Word around the world.

“A lot of people criticize me,” she said. “They say I don’t deserve to be a minister since I never finished my high school education. Ministry is difficult, but God is with me.”

People criticize her because of her ministry, but there is also a stigma in having a prosthetic leg in Haiti. The handicapped are often treated with disrespect in this country, and some have questioned why God would allow her to lose a leg.

Elizabeth’s children are now 23, 18, and 12, and before our time together ended, she asked that the “lady mamas of Solid Rock” pray for her and her family. I promised her that I would share her story and requests with all of you and that we would pray with her that:

God would give her strength to continue her church when people criticize her and tell her she can’t do it.
She would hold the Word of God close and continue to do His work.
God would give her the power and opportunity to share her testimony with thousands of people around the world.

The last day of our conference, Pastor Elizabeth found me in the crowd. She showed me her graduation picture again, pointing out the prosthetic leg with a sense of triumph. It is her testimony to what God has done and continues to do in her life. Then she held out the picture to me, signaling for me to take it.

“I can’t,” I said, shaking my hands and head. This picture meant so much to her, and I knew it was probably the only one she had. I couldn’t possibly take it from her.

But she held it out again, insisting that I keep it. It was her gift to me.

With humility and tears, I took her picture. And I continue to cry today when I think about her gift.

I wanted to give something to her in return, but I didn’t know what could even come close to equaling what she’d given me. Then I remembered that I had brought a picture with me to show the Haitian women. It was a photo of me, my husband, and my daughter when Karly was a baby. It seemed like nothing compared to Elizabeth’s gift—I can make another copy of it at any time—but it was all I had at that moment. I rushed to get it, and she gave me a precious hug in return. We’re sisters, you see, for now and eternity.

On that October afternoon, Elizabeth gave me her picture and her friendship. She reminded me of God’s love for His children, that even through terrible adversity and hardship He sees and loves each one of us. Not once did she complain to me about what had happened. Instead of being angry at God, she poured out her love for Him.

As we remember what happened in Haiti two years ago, I pray we will also remember the stories of God’s goodness in the midst of tragedy, of the beauty He made and continues to make from the ashes. And I hope that we can continue to pray for women like Pastor Elizabeth who’ve devoted their life to spreading God’s love and grace in Haiti.

Karly's Sunday Notes

2011-12-08T11:15:00.001-08:00

Our eight-year-old daughter sat with us in church on Sunday and decided to take notes on our pastor's excellent message about storing treasures in heaven and worrying on the earth.

Here is Karly's take on the message (and the link to John Mark's actual words):

John Mark Comer's Message
Worry Has a Name

Treshures on earth=coins, gold, clothes

Don’t stor up for yourselves in heavean-heaven is slippery

God talked about the heart

One persercent on grade=no

Stor up heaven on earth

How long dois the tan last?

Ten bucks, spend it on the handey caft children

Heated stearing wheel

I’m going to work 8, 9, 10, to 11 days

How long will your kids last? My anser is till their 100.

Helthy eye or killed eye

Good heven, bad heaven

Share, pass the blessing on, but if your not healthey, disipatent into thin

Quit your job, no, instead help your naborse (neighbors)

And buy more stuff? No, you need nothing.

God's Name in Haiti

2011-11-15T10:31:00.000-08:00

Two weeks ago, I arrived home in Portland along with nineteen incredible women and four heroic men who sacrificed their week to protect and care for us in Haiti. Together we went on one of the hardest journeys of our lives…and one of the most amazing. Instead of journeying alone, we did it arm-in-arm as sisters (and brothers) in Christ.

For eight months our team had been praying and preparing to join several hundred pastor's wives and other female leaders from churches across Haiti at the first conference planned specifically for them. Our desire was to encourage these women by sharing God's many names. Immanuel. Abba Father. Light of the World. Mighty Creator. El Roi—the God who sees me. As we spoke about God's names, we hugged these women and prayed with them. And the American missionaries (as the ladies called us) all came home blessed far beyond words.

It's taken me these two weeks to begin to process a small part of what I saw during my week. The people that I met; the stories I heard. The women who shared the anguish of their heartaches after the earthquake and the beauty of redemption, about tragedy and miracles and hearing the voice of God.

A glimpse of their stories:

A woman whose house pancaked under her feet as she stood on the roof. Her twelve children were below. Even as her neighbors mourned the loss of this woman's family, she continued to pray until she heard a voice in the rubble. And then she heard another voice. It seemed impossible, but every one of her children crawled out of their collapsed home.

A young son who was led out of the ruins of his house after the earthquake, holding the hand of a man in "bright white." Once the boy got outside, the man disappeared.

A woman who heard God's clear voice telling her on that fateful Tuesday to "put down her ironing and go to church." She argued with God in her busyness, but His voice persisted. So she obeyed even though she felt silly, sweeping the church while there was so much for her to do at home, but she remained until the church began to shake. Her house collapsed, but she and her family survived and praised the Lord in the streets.

A father who risked his life to run back into his collapsed house and save his daughter.

A woman who dug her deceased daughter out of a university building and carried her back to the ruins of Carrafour to bury her.

My dear new sister, Pastor Elizabeth, who was trapped under the rubble for far too long. Her head and chest were exposed to the street, her legs buried under a wall. When the Americans arrived, she was their first amputee and spent nine months in a hospital, teetering between life and death. She promised God, if He let her live, she would go to Bible school and spend her life telling others about Him. In June, Pastor Elizabeth beamed as she told me, she graduated from Bible school.

On the last day of the conference, Pastor Elizabeth pulled me aside and opened her Bible. Inside was a color picture of her on graduation day. She smiled as she pointed out her prosthetic leg in the photo, a testament to her of God's grace, and then she handed the picture to me. At first, I said "no." I couldn't possibly take what might be the only picture of her graduation. But she insisted, so I took her beautiful gift. I took it and I will treasure it--for the rest of my life. I rushed to my seat after receiving her gift and returned with a picture of me and my family for her. We're sisters, you see, now and for eternity.

These women lost so much from the earthquake. Many of them lost everything. "We couldn't find anything, not even a cup," one of them told me. "But I didn't lose my faith. I didn't lose my Savior."

Now I'm crying as I write this post, thinking of these beautiful women and their stories. This is the reason it's taking me so long to process. It's too much. I felt so inadequate to be on this trip, very small among a group of godly missionaries, and yet, I discovered that what some of these Haitian sisters needed most was not for me to bless them with eloquent words or (thankfully) immaculate attire. In fact, they didn't need me to talk much at all. They needed me to "see" them as God sees them. El Roi. They needed me to listen, and as I did, I promised them I would treasure the stories they shared. Then I promised them I would share their stories with you.

I fell in love with the Haitian women. God clearly speaks to them and through them. When they pray, they gather around you, all of them laying hands on you and speaking at once. I didn't need to understand Creole to feel the power of their words or the power in their worship.

One of my favorite moments was standing with all my American sisters in front of the room, praising Jesus in English as our Haitian sisters sang in Creole. One of the Haitian ladies grabbed me and began to whirl me around as they worshiped God in their dance. Out of my comfort zone? Very much. Did I love every moment of it? Absolutely!! Together we danced before the Lord.

Other Haiti moments I'll never forget:

The toddler who clung to me as I walked through Grace Village…or was that me, clinging to her?

Sleeping on the roof of the hospital where we stayed—a grand, giggly slumber party with my sistas. Stars above us, soft breezes blowing around us, the many sounds of Haiti below us, lush mountains beside us. Then waking to the spectacular sunrise over the sea as God painted the devastation of Haiti with His glory. The rubble faded away in the beauty of His light.

Chewing and spitting out wads of fibery sugar cane, much like chewing on the bubble gum I love at home.

Celebrating our dear brother David Hames who died during the earthquake with prayer for his family and his favorite treat—gummy bears--on his birthday. I was able to share the redemptive story of his life and death with a group of women who understood. Then seeing the site of the Hotel Montana from a rooftop with my faithful friend Jodi Stilp who journeyed through this loss alongside our family.

Lining up to "jump by generation" into the Caribbean Sea and then eating my first goat kebab.

Riding back through Port-au-Prince at night—burning trash along the sides of the windy roads, candles in the alleyways, protester roadblocks on the main roads, turning our bus around multiple times with traffic on every side, people staring at our light-skinned faces in the windows. I was doubly thankful that night—for our heroic bus driver who seemed to smile through it all in his "Burger Thing" T-shirt and for the traffic laws in the U.S. that keep cars (for the most part) on opposite sides of the road.

Watching the palm trees sway in the breeze with the backdrop of mountains and clear blue sea, for above the rubble there is beauty in their dance just as there is beauty in the eyes of the Haitian women as they danced before the Lord.

Taking a "two cup" shower on our last morning because someone had cut our water line. And being very thankful for my two cups!

Being reminded constantly that what Satan means for evil, God can use for incredible good.

After traveling all day on Monday, I ran down the hall of the Portland airport to hug my sweet husband and girls. I missed them more than I can say and their notes, flowers, and love that night made me cry once again. Hours later, my life returned to its steady busyness—editing my manuscript, taking my kids to school, loading up my blessed laundry machine with dirty clothes.

Even now, my small suitcase is still not unpacked. Every item I take out has a wonderful memory attached to it. Every scribbled note from a Haitian sister or drawing from a child is something I want to cherish. I'm just not quite ready to put it all away.

And so I will linger on my time in Haiti, maybe for months or even years to come. Remembering, reflecting, and praying for those women who don't want to leave Haiti because they love their country and their people.

Next time I visit Haiti—and if God allows it, I'm certain there will be a next time—I hope that I won't be running back through the airport to see my family at the end. Next time, I hope my family is deplaning along with me, long after I've introduced them to my beautiful Haitian friends.

With much joy,

~Melanie

P.S. Much thanks to one amazing photographer (Jodi Stilp) for taking the above pictures and more than a thousand beautiful photos for our team and to Mike Varadi (one of our heroes) for capturing our week on video.

Giving Away Ten Copies of Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania

2011-10-17T10:43:00.000-07:00

Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania, my latest historical romance novel, released this month. To celebrate, I'll be giving away ten copies in November.

To enter the contest, please leave a brief comment below with your email address. I will draw names on November 9th and email the winners.

Here's more info about the story:

Christian and Susanna Boehler had never spoken when they were chosen by lot to marry in a Moravian community in Germany. But in 1754, they travel to Pennsylvania with a dozen other newly married couples to establish the settlement of Nazareth and share their faith with the surrounding Indian nations. Just as Susanna’s heart begins to warm toward her husband, she learns that he had asked to marry another woman—and that he loves her still.

As war rages between the British and French Indians and their young marriage faces hardship, will Susanna and Christian remain strangers in marriage, or will their hearts finally be united in love?

Thanks for celebrating with me!

~Melanie

Christmas Journey to Nazareth

2011-10-03T11:28:00.000-07:00

The windows in Nazareth, Pennsylvania make the entire village glow during Christmas, each one lit with a solitary candle that beckons visitors inside, out of the snow. Pine wreaths wrapped in ribbons decorate painted doors. White stars adorn wooden and stone homes alike and twinkling lights color the evergreen that towers on Center Square.

I spent several days last December in this magical village researching for Love Finds You in Nazareth, Pennsylvania. The citizens of Nazareth embrace Christmas with quiet charm, and in the midst of the décor and festivities, there is the constant reminder of the child who initiated this season, of the boy who lived an ocean away and almost two thousand years past in another village called Nazareth.

Pennsylvania’s Nazareth is an eclectic mixture of both old and new. Colonial and contemporary. A gray stone hall, built in 1744 by the Moravians (Unity of the Brethren), anchors the east side of town, and sprinkled throughout the village are grand Victorian residences beside smaller clapboard homes.

I spent hours in this stone building, now named the Whitefield House, as I read journals from the 1700s. What a delight it was to find records of my ancestor Maria Beroth in these journals as well as information about my great (to the fifth) grandparent’s marriage in Bethlehem in 1758.

During my stay in Nazareth, I took a candlelight tour late one night and walked across the plaza below the grand manor built for Count Zinzendorf in the 1750s. During the day, I explored the quiet hillside above town where the first Moravian brothers and sisters were buried. From the Indian Tower, I could see miles and miles of hills, farmland, and forest. Before I left Nazareth, I drove to the Pocono Mountains just north of the village to experience just a small taste of how hard it would have been to be a Moravian missionary to the Indians, filled with both awe and fear as they traveled by foot across these mountains to visit the various settlements.

Six thousand people now make Nazareth their home. While there are a variety of denominations and faiths represented among the residents, Moravian tradition is still embedded in the culture of Nazareth. And the history of the Moravian people—the heritage of my ancestors—is threaded through the heart of the town.

Giving Away Five Copies of Amana Novel

2011-06-09T15:49:00.000-07:00

Almost two years has passed since I visited the peaceful Amana Colonies in Iowa (click here for story and pictures of my journey), but I was able to return a few months ago on paper to write—Love Finds You in Amana, Iowa. This story takes place almost thirty years before Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa, during the time the Amana Colonies were being built.

To celebrate the release of this book, I will be giving away a review copy to five different readers. To enter the contest, please leave a brief comment below (it can be very brief—like “enter me") and your email address so I can notify you. I will draw names on June 28^th.

Love Finds You in Amana, Iowa

As the rest of the nation is embroiled in the Civil War, the Amana Colonies have remained at peace--until now. Amalie Wiese arrives in the newly built village of Amana in 1863 only to find that her fiancé , Friedrich, has left to fight with the Union army.

Amalie fears for his safety even as she struggles with his decision to abandon the colony’s peace-loving beliefs. She hopes that working alongside Friedrich’s best friend will provide some comfort, but instead of offering support, Matthias is abrupt and cold. When Matthias himself leaves for the battlefront to deliver supplies to the soldiers, war wages inside Amalie. Who will claim victory for her heart?

Giving Away Five Copies of The Silent Order

2010-11-05T08:24:00.000-07:00

The Silent Order, my latest suspense, releases this week! To celebrate, I'll be giving away five copies of The Silent Order in December.

To enter the contest, please leave a brief comment below or on my FB page (it can be very brief—like “enter me"). I will draw names on December 2nd and then post the winners' names on Facebook and here on the blog.

Here's a blurb about the story:

Cleveland, Ohio, 1929.

Dark secrets bind the notorious Cardano family together, but Detective Rollin Wells is close to exposing them. The Cardanos are working in the hills south of Cleveland, and when Rollin travels to Sugarcreek to investigate, he discovers that the Cardanos want him dead. Rollin hides out in an Amish home, trying to uncover why the Cardanos are in Amish country and who is collaborating with them.

As he gets closer to the truth, he also attempts to find out what a beautiful Amish woman named Katie Lehman—a woman who reminds him of the girl he once loved—is hiding. Will Katie trust him with her secret..and her heart? Or will the Cardano code of honor silence them both?

Thanks for celebrating with me!

~Melanie

The Silent Order—Exploring Little Italy and Amish Country

2010-10-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

Two very different worlds collide in my latest novel The Silent Order—the Cleveland Mafia and the Amish community in Sugarcreek, Ohio. Set in 1929, this historical suspense is about a Cleveland detective named Rollin Wells who is close to exposing a notorious Mafia family. And it's about an Amish woman named Katie Lehman who is hiding a terrible secret.

To research this novel, I flew to Cleveland in March and toured Little Italy. I ate way too much pepperoni bread (yum!) and explored brick streets that were rife with Mafia activity during Prohibition. Above Little Italy is an eerie cemetery with hills and spires and spooky mausoleums. Driving between the barren trees and tombstones, I could envision my detective hidden there, spying on a secret meeting between gangsters.

At a nearby coffee shop, I met with local police chief Rick Porrello to talk about gangster life in Cleveland, eighty years ago. Seven of Rick’s ancestors were Mob leaders, and he is the author of The Rise and Fall of the Cleveland Mafia. His research and input helped shape every Mafia scene in The Silent Order.

From Cleveland, I drove south to Sugarcreek and seemed to step back in time as I immersed myself in Amish country. Snow glazed the hills and farmhouses around the village, and the countryside was so peaceful. The perfect place for the Cleveland Mafia to hide.

The next morning, an Amish woman guided me around the hills and farms as she told me about her childhood in Sugarcreek and what is important to the Amish community (family!). Then I left behind overhead wires and cell phone coverage that evening to spend the night in a farmhouse with an Old Order Amish couple.

Without electricity, I expected quiet hours of conversation and rest at the farmhouse, but the wood furnace thumped constantly beside my bed and throughout the night the various clocks around the house chimed and entertained us with classical music. Our conversation was often interrupted by the music and groans from the furnace, but I had a delightful time with my hosts (read more about my evening with my Amish hosts on Cindy Woodsmall’s blog).

I discovered that Amish people do indeed read and enjoy Amish fiction, even if (their words) the facts aren’t always correct. I'm sure my facts won't all be correct either, but I sure enjoyed my trip, trying to get my facts as straight as possible.

Here are a few pictures of my trip, including pics with Rick Porrello and my friend and editor Connie Troyer who lives in Sugarcreek.

Night in an Old Order Amish Home

2010-04-28T15:39:00.000-07:00

If you are intrigued by the Amish culture, my friend Cindy Woodsmall just posted an article on Plain Talk that I wrote about the night I spent with a delightful Old Order Amish couple in Sugarcreek named Eli and Mary. Also, Cindy is giving away a copy of Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa along with an Amish wall-hanging.

Refuge on Crescent Hill (latest suspense novel)

2010-04-12T21:46:00.000-07:00

Resting on a quiet treed hill in my hometown of Mt. Vernon (Ohio) is a dilapidated mansion built in 1853. Shrouded in mystery, the Curtis mansion inspired my imagination as a child, and I wondered about the people who once lived in the abandoned mansion and what happened to them. I was certain the place was haunted, especially on those rainy nights when tree limbs would sway outside the darkened windows and the front gate would bang in the wind. And I also was certain something grand once happened inside its walls.

As an adult, the Curtis mansion continued to intrigue me. I’d heard the rumors for years about a secret tunnel that ran under the house, to the family’s cemetery plot. I’d also heard that the family once harbored slaves along the Underground Railroad and they would flash signals from the towering cupola to let nearby homes know the runaways slaves were coming. My aunt and uncle’s house, about a half-mile away, was rumored to have been part of this network.

So I began to wonder even more. What if these rumors were true and a tunnel really led to the mausoleum? What if the tunnel once sheltered runaway slaves on their journey north? And what if a house like this could be used in some way to help people today?

One of Mt. Vernon's librarians (who also happens to be my Aunt Janet) located a treasure trove for me—a binder filled with information about the Curtis mansion. The rumors about the tunnel going to two separate locations. The facts about the history. Even description of the original furnishings.

After I read this information, I had to write a novel based on the rumors of this wonderful old house. And I wanted the house to come alive as a character in the book. As I started scribbling notes, the contemporary suspense novel Refuge on Crescent Hill was born. The plot was revised multiple times. New characters were introduced and others were changed. But the character of the fictional Bristow mansion stayed the same.

Below are a few pictures of places that inspired the settings in Refuge on Crescent Hill. The Curtis mansion today, a smaller Curtis home built down the hill (the Paxton house in the novel), a private family cemetery in Ohio, and a creepy window looking into a mausoleum and coffin in former East Berlin.

Homestead Winners

2010-04-10T08:03:00.000-07:00

Thanks so much to everyone who posted a comment to win Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa! Two of the comments didn't have email addresses so if you are "Caddy" or the Anonymous commenter below, please email me with your address (comments@melaniedobson.com) so I can send you a book. If not, I will pick two more names next Friday (April 16th).

Here are the winners:

Sharon Loos
Lynda Shields
Nora

Anonymous said...
It would be an honor to win one of your books. I've read every one of them so far and there hasn't been a one that I didn't love
Caddy said...
Can't wait to read one of yours

Thanks again!

Book Giveaway for Love Finds You in Homestead

2010-03-10T22:19:00.000-08:00

Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa officially releases today! This story is set in the quaint Amana Colonies in Iowa--a place that has fascinated me since I lived in Iowa during my teen years. It wasn't until I visited the Amanas last August though that I learned about their rich heritage of faith and communal living. It was a delight to visit these beautiful Colonies and enjoy an unhurried week as I sampled pastries and toured old homes and spent hours walking in the forest and biking alongside the peaceful Millrace canal.

The Homestead story: Times are hard in 1894. Desperate for work, former banker Jacob Hirsch rides the rails west from Chicago with his four-year-old daughter, Cassie. When a life-threatening illness strands the pair in Homestead, Iowa, the local Amana villagers welcome the father and daughter into their peaceful society. Liesel, a young Amana woman, nurses Cassie back to health, and the Homestead elders offer Jacob work. But Jacob's growing interest in Liesel complicates his position in the Amanas. Will he fight to stay in the only place that feels like home, even if it means giving up the woman he loves? Or will Liesel leave her beloved community to face the outside with Jacob and Cassie at her side?

On April 9th, I will be drawing five names to receive a free copy of Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa. If you live in the U.S. and would like to be included in this drawing, please leave a quick comment below. I will post the names of the winners on April 9th and mail the books off the following week.

Thank you for celebrating with me!

Uncle David

2010-02-19T16:26:00.000-08:00

Our last visit with David (otherwise known as Captain Cranium).

We miss you!!

A New Year

2010-02-19T15:59:00.000-08:00

On January 12th, we lost one of our best friends to the earthquake in Haiti. David Hames was shooting a video for Compassion Intl, and he walked into the Hotel Montana one minute before the building pancaked. It took four weeks for the teams to recover him--four weeks of praying for a miracle and hoping that he might still be alive.

David is no longer on this earth, but He loved Jesus and we know that he is in heaven--laughing and singing and probably entertaining the angels with his ukulele. The past month-plus has been an emotional roller coaster, but God has been faithful and blessed our family with strength and peace in the midst of the pain. We miss David dearly, but we know he is very much alive right now. And we are grateful.

Some of you have so nicely called and emailed to remind me that it's been a very long time since I posted pictures of the family. So finally, here are a few Christmas pictures. Thank you for all of your many prayers and encouraging notes during this incredibly hard journey.

Joy in the Mourning

2009-11-06T16:03:00.000-08:00

My brother left this week to prepare for deployment to Afghanistan. He's stationed at Ft. Hood. I'm grateful beyond words that he is okay, but my heart grieves for all the families who lost loved ones there yesterday.

While I don't know why terrible things like this happen, a friend blessed me recently by sharing how God healed the sorrow in their family and turned it into something good. In 2006 Jerry and Pat Prosapio lost their teenage daughter Katie in a tragic accident. Katie was a talented musician and writer, and in the months before she went home to the Lord, she was preparing to go overseas to help those who were being persecuted for their faith.

Now the Prosapios have started a remarkable ministry called Katie's Comfort to encourage and support families who are grieving the loss of a loved one. As a tribute to Katie and those who lost their lives yesterday, here is a beautiful essay written by Laura Prosapio, almost four years after her sister's death.

Joy in the Mourning

by Laura Prosapio

Deeming an event as “extraordinary” is not the most common occurrence. The word “extraordinary” immediately implies that something wonderful and miraculous has taken place, and that because it has occurred, a person will never be the same. Well, God has worked extraordinarily in my life, and He has changed me. He has showed me that He can create something beautiful from a tragedy.

The lowest point in my life was when I heard the news. I was at my friend’s house next door, and her mother told me to go home right away because she got a call from my mom. I figured that my family was having dinner, and they needed me home. However, I realized this was not the case when, peering through the screen door, I saw my mom, dad, and brother standing at the top of the stairs, obviously distressed. My sixth grade mind never expected the worst. I simply reasoned to myself that my pet rabbit had died, and that they were looking for a way to tell me. How wrong I was!

My dad sat me down on the couch in our living room, and all he had to utter was, “Our church got a call from the director of Rockford Master’s Commission. Katie was in a car accident. She’s in Heaven.” Time seemed to stop. Feelings of sadness and disbelief entered my mind. For those few moments, nothing else mattered. My only sister, my big sis Katie, was dead, and I couldn’t do anything about it.

In the days that ensued after I heard the news, the emotional wake and funeral came and went. Through every waking moment, I felt as though I was living a nightmare. Surely, this tragedy could not be true! Although I knew the harsh reality of my sister’s death, I still expected Katie to call on the phone. I anticipated that she would walk through our front door at home and run up the stairs to give me one of her big bear hugs. As I realized that these thoughts were only pipe dreams, bleakness filled me, and I felt distressed and alone. I wondered why God would allow something like this to happen to me and my family and, most of all, to my sister. She had such amazing aspirations for God. She was planning to become a missionary to India. Why did she have to die? Why did a young Christian woman, only nineteen years old, have to leave this earth by some cruel twist of fate? Well, what I did not realize at this time was that God’s hand was in all that had taken place. None of my heartbreak and grief was out of God’s plan. Little did I know that God would soon turn my tears into gladness.

The first trace of purpose from Katie’s death was when my sixth grade teacher came to my house, evidently very excited. She disclosed to my family that three of my classmates had asked her to help them ask Jesus into their lives; this happened right after they heard about Katie’s death. Although I attended a Christian school, it had taken my sister’s love for God, posthumously, for some of my peers to fully devote their lives to Him. Immediately, I felt honored to be Katie’s sister. My breath was taken away at how God was still working through Katie’s life, even when I thought He was finished.

Since that first time of seeing God’s purpose in my sister’s death, more than I could ever imagine has unfolded from His perfect plan. People have been touched more and more from Katie’s life. Before my sister went to be with Jesus, she wrote and composed a song in honor of the persecuted church around the world. This song has touched countless people, including three thousand souls at a Christian crusade in Nigeria. The song was even played at a Gospel for Asia conference in Texas, where missionaries from all over the globe came to be encouraged by fellow Christians.

Another amazing occurrence unfurled from God’s plan about a year ago, when my family was informed that a Teen Challenge Center was to be constructed in Cambodia for young men who suffered from lifestyle addictions. The center was going to be named “Katie Hall” in honor of my sister. Katie’s dream seemed to be coming true to bring hope to the lost people in the continent of Asia. I was in awe of God’s mighty power working to fulfill Katie’s desires.

God has continued to astound me time and time again. After some time of not knowing God’s purpose in Katie’s death, and thinking that I would never understand why my sister was taken away from me, I have now been able to see God’s hand in every aspect of her life and even her death.

Getting over Katie’s passing and the lack of her presence has been challenging, but the Lord, our Savior, has been there for me through it all. Of course, there have been moments when I’ve simply needed to talk to my sister. Through the milestones of life, especially, I’ve missed her. But, the grief and sadness of the first day I found out about her death have passed. The Lord has given me a fresh, new joy every day, and I thank the Lord for His unfailing presence.

If I look at God’s point of view, the waves and storms of life seem drastically smaller. Countless times I have looked at my sister’s death from my point of view. Every tiny wave of grief feels like it will swallow me. Looking at hardships from my point of view is disheartening, and these hardships never seem to improve as long as the waves keep coming. But as I look at what God has brought me through, and as I stand on God’s truths, it is as if I am on the top of a lighthouse, safe from the hurt and struggles. Sure, difficulties are bound to come my way, but they will always seem so much smaller when I cling to Christ as my foundation.

It is because of this hope that I’ve been able to live my life normally again. Even if I had the choice to bring her back, I would not. Although this may seem awfully extreme, I mean it wholeheartedly. Katie is in such a better place now, basking in the presence of God with no worries and no cares. The Lord is continuing to work through her life, and mine, as God is giving me the honor of sharing hope with those around me who are hopeless.

Three years ago, when I was walking through the valley of the shadow of death, I never would have imagined that God would have brought me to the point that I am now. He has made me more in love with Him from a situation that seemed dark and grim. His extraordinary joy has always come in the morning, and even in my mourning.

Fall Pictures

2009-11-04T16:04:00.001-08:00

It doesn't seem possible, but last month I celebrated my 40th birthday. Jon surprised me with a wonderful trip to visit friends in Colorado and then we escaped to the mountains to swim in a hot springs pool and hike up to Hanging Lake. The perfect birthday weekend!

I'm grateful to God for the many blessings in my life, and I'm grateful for my friends and family. Thank you to each of you who made this day/month so special for me. Here are a few pictures from our birthday weekend and a couple pictures of my little Cinderella and Snow White last weekend.

God's Gift

2009-09-19T21:35:00.000-07:00

...how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him. (Matt. 7:11)

In March Kiki lost her Leapster (a handheld gaming system for kids). It was her Christmas present, and she loved, loved to play Nemo and Diego on it. We prayed and scoured the house and waited, but the Leapster never reappeared. So for her birthday in June, we purchased another Leapster for her gift, and she now "checks" it out and in to the Mommy library so it won't get lost again.

But yesterday, when she checked out the Leapster, it didn't work so I changed the batteries, expecting it to flash on. Nothing happened. It was dead. I asked the girls if they'd dropped it, and Karly informed me that the last time they played with it they gave the Leapster a bath. Sigh... As my friend Laura tells her children, electronics and water do not mix.

As we walked this morning, I prayed, asking God to please reveal where the old Leapster was hidden. I felt a little silly asking for it, but God was the only one who knew where it was...

And then God did a miracle for me and my girls. Minutes after we got back from our walk, I started cleaning the house. We have a small den in the front of the house that is rarely used (our only "adult" room), and I picked up the cushions from the couch to straighten them. There, tucked under the big cushion, was the green Leapster. I stared in shock. After six months of searching, it reappeared. Minutes after I prayed. There was no coincidence about it.

I called the girls into the room, and they cheered and clapped over God's gift for us today. It may seem like a small thing, but for my girls, it was huge. A miracle. Almost as if God had waited six months, waited for us to ask one more time, so we could truly see His love and His power. Together we rejoiced.

Stepping Back in Time in the Amana Colonies

2009-09-11T08:06:00.000-07:00

In August I spent a week touring the remarkable Amana Colonies in Iowa to research my new historical novel (Love Finds You in Homestead, Iowa). There are seven quaint villages in the Amanas with 19th-century homes and shops built from brick, wood, and sandstone and surrounded by colorful gardens and trees. I felt as if I'd traveled back a hundred years or so as I visited the bakery (where they still bake on the open hearth), the rustic church buildings, the butcher shop, the mill, and the former Amana kitchens that now serve schnitzel, sauerkraut, spaetzle, and sweet rhubarb and dandelion wine.

A glassy canal cuts through the rolling farmland owned by the Amanas, and when I biked along it one afternoon, I discovered the beautiful Lily Lake with hundreds of yellow blooms canvassing the water. The Iowa River also traverses through the Colonies along with a train that woke me up at 4 a.m. every morning as it whistled and chugged its way through town.

I stayed at the Die Heimat Inn in Homestead which was built in the 1850s and used for 30 years as a communal kitchen. The Amana Colonies operated as a commune for 80 years (ending in 1932), and as part of their communal living, they ate together in community kitchens, attended church and prayer meetings together eleven times a week, and worked together either in town or in the farmlands that surrounded each of the seven villages.

No one received a paycheck in Amana. Each person worked hard at an assigned job, and then everything was provided for them--food, clothing, their home, medical care, furniture, and even the sky blue paint that added color to the rooms inside every building in the Amanas. The Amana people didn't worry about food or any of their physical needs so they devoted their time to reading, prayer, making beautiful crafts, and helping the many transients who stopped by the Colonies for a bite to eat.

During the Great Depression, the Amana Colonies separated their church community from their business corporation. The Amanas still worked together, but they began receiving pay for their work and learned quickly how to provide for themselves. While I was visiting the Colonies, I met a number of wonderful people whose parents were part of what they refer to as the "Great Change," and I was blessed to spend time with one 92-year-old man who grew up in Amana while it was a commune.

Even though the Amana Colonies no longer operate as a commune, there is still a strong sense of community and faith in this community. Residents value their friendships and the foundations of the Amana Church just like their parents and grandparents and great-grandparents did.

As I begin this next novel, I'm excited to encapsulate the strength and beauty and the community of the Amanas through a story about a heartbroken man and his young daughter who are trying to find their way home.

Here are some pictures from my trip:

Vacation in Washington

2009-08-18T21:19:00.001-07:00

We just returned from a wonderful week of rest in North Central Washington. We biked in the Cascades, went tubing down the Wenatchee River, toured the Bavarian town of Leavenworth, swam every day, hiked, toured a candy factory, rode a ferry boat for four hours up to the remote village of Sterhekin, slept in, watched movies, read fun books, and ate way too much junk food. I don't think I'll be able to eat another French fry for months. :)

It was a blessing for us to be able to spend so many days playing and relaxing together. Here are a few pix from our trip:

Pix from Crater Lake Trip

2009-07-29T21:30:00.000-07:00

We headed down to the pristine Crater Lake in Southern Oregon last weekend and "camped" in a yurt. Thankfully, the yurt had electricity so Jon made an emergency trip to Wal-Mart for a fan that kept us fairly cool at night since it was hot, hot there.

We explored an old gold mining town called Golden and peaked in all the windows (my favorite thing to do!). We met up with friends for a long lunch by the lake, and then late at night, Karly and I went outside and looked at the thousands of stars above the campground. She began praying, thanking God for the gift of stars and their beauty. When she said, "Amen," a shooting star traveled across the sky, and we celebrated the "God sighting" together. He is SO good!!

Birthday Month

2009-07-06T20:48:00.000-07:00

June is birthday month in the Dobson house. Karly turned six (what happened to my baby?), and Kiki moved on to the big F-I-V-E. They celebrated with a few friends at the movie theatre and then out for pizza and Pinkie Pie Pony cake. Life just doesn't get any better than that. :)

Here are a few pix from June.

First Day at Summer Camp

Kiki's Big Day

Making Cookies while Karly's at Camp

Book Signing with Friend and Fellow "Love Finds You" Author
Miralee Ferrell

Birthday Party, Lots of Fun

Liberty Book Winners

2009-06-25T14:34:00.000-07:00

A huge thank you to each of you who submitted your name to win a copy of Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana! We drew the names last night, and the winners are:

Renee (steeler girl)
Bob E.
Linda (desert rose)
Torri
LuAnn (reading frenzy)

If you won a book, please email me your mailing address at comments(at)melaniedobson.com, and I'll send a copy right out. If you didn't win a book, I will be posting the links in the upcoming weeks of other bloggers who will be giving away copies of it as well.

Thanks again! Happy summer reading!!

"Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana" Book Giveaway

2009-06-04T21:23:00.000-07:00

I'm so excited to announce the release of my first historical novel, Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana. This story has been brewing inside me for decades so it was an absolute delight and blessing to be able to write it.

The book is about a Quaker woman in Liberty who risks everything to hide runaway slaves on the Underground Railroad and a young newspaper editor who fights for these same runaways with his pen. During my trip to Liberty, I visited a number of old homes that were once stations along the Underground Railroad, and I loved learning the real-life stories about the courageous men and women who escaped slavery and/or fought for freedom.

On June 24th, I will be drawing five names to receive a free copy of this book. If you'd like to be included in this drawing, please leave a quick comment below. I will post the names of the winners on June 25th and mail the books off by the end of the month.

Thanks for celebrating with me!

Crescent Hill

2009-06-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

Early this morning I sent in my manuscript for the second book I've written this year (a contemporary romantic suspense story called Crescent Hill). I haven't had much time to blog the past few months, but that's because I've been writing, writing, writing.

The same day Crescent Hill was due marked the official release date of my first historical romance novel (Love Finds You in Liberty, Indiana). I'm so excited about this book, and once my brain recovers from lack of sleep (let's hope it recovers soon... :), I'll be giving away several copies of this book on my blog.

A week or so ago, I also signed a new contract with Summerside Press who does the Love Finds You series. I will be writing three novels for them in the next two years. I've loved working with this publisher, and it is such an honor for me to be partnering with them for three more books. So I'll be traveling to the village towns of Homestead, Iowa and Harmony, Minnesota this summer and come the end of November, I will have finished Novel #3 for the year.

So, I haven't had much time to blog, but for those of you who keep checking in, thank you! I will post the give-away for the Liberty book this week and some summer pictures soon.

God bless!!

Dear People...

2009-05-25T22:55:00.000-07:00

Today Karly told me that she wanted to send a special message to all the people who have lost their lives for our freedom. With her own money, she bought a Garfield balloon at the dollar store, and then wrote this note: "Dear People. Thank you for taking care of our 'worle'. Love, Karly." She added lots of hearts, rolled it up, and then we attached it to the balloon string. After praying for the families who'd lost loved ones fighting for our country, we released the balloon and watched it go up and away into the clear sky, off to the heavens. Karly was smiling from ear-to-ear, and I can only imagine that God may have smiled right back.

Flower Girls

2009-05-21T17:11:00.000-07:00

The girls did awesome in my brother's wedding last weekend in Spokane. Kiki smiled so pretty, throwing petals all the way down the aisle exactly as she'd been told. She snuggled in with me during the ceremony and slept for an hour (it's hard work being a flower girl, BTW. you have to smile, smile, smile. :). Karly made it down the aisle without all that silly stuff like pretty petal throwing. With every step, she muttered, "Don't be nervous. Don't be nervous." And when she got to the end of the aisle, she stuck out her tongue and announced, "That was NOT fun!" Like I had lied to her when I told her how much fun it would be. Sigh...

The ceremony was beautiful, and Karly entertained herself by taking lots of pictures of Uncle David and her new Aunt Annalisa. The day after the wedding, we escaped to Coeur D'Alene, Idaho with Pop Pop and Aunt Christy for a little fun playtime before the drive home.

Weekend at the Coast

2009-04-23T22:33:00.000-07:00

Here are a few pix of our wonderful, sunny weekend at the Coast to celebrate Jon's birthday! We had fun collecting seashells, swimming at the pool, and playing a little putt-putt (also known as "fetch"). Good R &R for the Dobson crew...

Celebrating Christ's Resurrection

2009-04-14T10:11:00.000-07:00

We had a wonderful, rainy Easter Sunday. Here are a few pix of the girls and their friend Grace before and after the Easter Egg hunt--I tried to take pictures of them in search of eggs but they all turned out blurry. :) It will be days--and perhaps weeks--before we locate all of the plastic eggs, but the girls sure had fun.

Cellphone Recovery

2009-03-31T09:32:00.000-07:00

Yesterday a certain five-year-old (who won't be named, but has brown hair and beautiful brown eyes) decided to drown my cell phone with her chocolate milk. Not on purpose, of course. A complete accident they say, though no one can quite recall the details of exactly what led up to my phone being doused in milk.

At first the phone seemed okay with its unexpected bath, but then it began pulsating green and red, the keypad stopped working, and finally it went black. No amount of electricity would revive it. I thought it was a goner....

As I stood in shock--pleading in prayer for my poor phone--I remembered a column that my friend Mary Hunt wrote recently about recovering a wet phone in her daily email called Everyday Cheapskate (if you don't get this already, it's free and a GREAT resource for saving money!!). So I took out the battery and wiped out all the sticky milk. Then I vacuumed it. And then I put it in a bag filled with rice which seemed strange to me but when your cell phone is dead, you'll put it in just about anything in attempt to bring it back to life.

According to the column, I was supposed to wait all night for the rice to absorb the extra moisture, but after about five hours, I couldn't resist and plugged it in yet again. IT WORKED! I could hardly believe it. The red and green lights were gone. Keypad worked. I dialed Jon's number, and he was shocked that I was able to use it again.

So I'm grateful this morning (a day later, it's still working!). Thank you, God, and thank you, Mary Hunt!

The Super Bowl Ad that NBC Rejected

2009-02-01T20:04:00.001-08:00

Catholic Super Bowl Ad

All I want for Christmas...

2009-01-09T09:40:00.000-08:00

Normal isn't a word in Karly's vocabulary so I guess it didn't surprise anyone when minutes before she was supposed to go onstage last night for her Christmas program, she shoved out the two bottom teeth that have been dangling from her mouth for many, many weeks. A little blood won't stop my girl, though, so paper towel in hand (and 20 minutes after the show was supposed to start), she sang proudly and gave lots of wide smiles to show the laughing audience her latest achievement.

Kiki, on the other hand, mastered her bows and curtsies during the show and even danced a bit. When the teacher called three of the school girls forward to recite a verse, Kiki proclaimed, "I want to go too!" So she joined the group and surprised the teacher by knowing it. This was her first time doing a show like this so I thought she might be nervous to be in front of a crowd. Apparently not...

Never a dull moment around here. :)

Exploring UR Stations in Indiana

2009-01-02T18:03:00.000-08:00

This week I've been researching for my historical novel set in Liberty, Indiana (comes out in June). The story is about a Quaker woman who ran a station on the Underground Railroad so the past few days I've been living at the beautiful Carriage Lamp B & B in Liberty and immersing myself in what life would have been like here in 1850. I've had a blast!

I've explored old cemeteries and waterways, crawled into secret rooms and hiding places, learned how to cook on an open hearth, hiked along a canal path, read mounds of old articles, and met some amazing people who have opened up their homes and family history for me. A special thanks to Karen Coffey who opened up doors and gave me a personal tour of the area as well as an incredible amount of information. She is amazing!

My sister said that what I'm doing sounds too much like writing a research paper, but I reminded her that I used to like writing research papers. :) This is so much fun for me!

For those of you who like history, here are some of the almost 300 pix I've taken. Now I have to get busy writing...

Liberty's Quaint Downtown

The Wonderful Logue Family
Their Home Was a Major Station on the UR
Hiding Places in Floor, Closet, Staircase, & Dumbwaiter

Entrance to Logue's Attic Was Through a Closet and Rope Ladder
If They Saw Slave Hunters Approaching, The Runaways Could Climb Through a Trapdoor in Roof, Down an Exterior Ladder, and Race into The Woods Out Back

Levi Coffin's Home, "The President of the Underground Railroad"

Secret Door in Levi Coffin's Home
Runaway Slaves Would Hide in Garret, Bed Would Hide Door

Hiding Place

Indoor Well and Springhouse

Slaves Were Hidden and Transported under the False Bottom of This Wagon

Quaker Carriage from 1830s

The Huddleston House Was Filled with 19th Century Relics

My Character Will Live on a Creek Just Like This

Crescent Hill (my next novel) Is Based on This House in Ohio
Legend Has It That There's an Escape Tunnel Under This House
That Leads to The Family Crypt

Karen Coffey, Researcher Extraordinaire

Christmas Pix

2009-01-01T15:00:00.000-08:00

We celebrated a warm, sunny Christmas in Tennessee with Jon's family, and then I headed up to Ohio to spend some quiet time with my family (I actually got to sit and talk to people!).

Jon and the girls are roughing it in Florida right now. Today they went to Disney World though it's almost seven o'clock and I haven't heard from them all day. I think they are having WAY too much fun! Here are a few pix from last week including Kiki's dramatic dive with Dory.

Before Shot: Kiki petting stingrays and small sharks at touch pool.
Across the pond, she sees Dory (blue tang) from Finding Nemo

Kiki dives for Dory and ends up swimming with the rays and sharks

After: Mimi and Papa get Kiki new outfit at Wal-Mart
And we're off to see more fish...

Karly hangin' with her cuz

Christmas Day at the Dobsons, exploring on the Rhino

Daddy's Christmas girlz

One more Daddy's girl. :)

Visit to Father Christmas

2008-12-10T21:58:00.001-08:00

Putting on My Pants

2008-11-10T21:19:00.000-08:00

This morning Kiki stood in the kitchen and wailed. She was almost ready for the day—socks and shirt on, teeth brushed, bed made. The only thing she had left to do was pull her pink camo pants over her legs. Karly and I were ready for our morning walk, and we were waiting for Kiki to finish getting dressed. But instead of hurrying, Kiki panicked and cried even harder.

I knelt down beside her and explained that she wouldn’t need to cry if she simply put one leg into her pants and then the other. It was a simple job. One that she’d done by herself a hundred times. Tears streaming down her face, she finally overcame her panic and got dressed. Then her face broke into a smile as she ran out the door.

As a parent, I’ve discovered that God speaks through my kids (almost daily!), and I so needed this lesson today. You see, I’m about two-thirds through my latest novel, and I need to have the first draft finished by the end of this month. Last week I panicked. During my writing time, my mind raced and the fear took hold. I can’t do it. I’ll never finish in time. It’s TOO hard!

With a jolt, I realized that I was doing exactly what Kiki was doing this morning. Instead of finishing my task, I was letting the anxiety control me, and the result was ugly—I couldn’t get anything done at all. Even the simplest tasks of editing and rearranging my story seemed overwhelming.

So today, I set out for the coffee shop and I did my best to put the anxiety behind me and focus on my story. And when I stopped my inner wailing, I got a ton of much-needed editing done.

For the rest of the month, I’m going to try and focus on one part of this story at a time until I finish this entire manuscript. I guess you can say I’ll be putting on my pants, one leg at a time.

My "Fancy Nancy" Girls

2008-11-02T10:04:00.000-08:00

Fireproof

2008-10-14T09:55:00.000-07:00

Karly celebrated my birthday this weekend by counting ALL the way up to thirty-nine, and then looked at me, shocked, before she said, "Wow!" Yes, there are a lot of numbers between five and thirty-nine. :)

The air was cool this weekend, but it was sunny so we played outside. On Saturday we picked apples at a local orchard and took a hay ride to a pumpkin patch. Then on Sunday afternoon, we hiked around a mountain near Mt. Hood to the hidden Mirror Lake.

Last night Jon and I went out for German food and to see Fireproof. We both loved it! Like the people who made the movie said, the film won't win any Academy Awards, but that's not why they made it. It's a great story about saving a marriage--funny in some places, intense in others. And apparently the story connects with all different ages from the sweet, elderly couple who sat beside us in the theater to our eighth grade babysitter who REALLY wants to see it because her best friend loved it too. Kudos to Sherwood Church for this fantastic, heart-stopping and heart-warming movie about a couple who decide to fight for their marriage.

It was the perfect, relaxing birthday! I'm grateful for everyone of my (many!) years and look forward to this final year of thirty-somethin'.

Setting My Mind on Things Above

2008-10-07T21:25:00.000-07:00

I made the mistake of checking the status of our retirement savings today and discovered that almost fifty percent of it has disappeared, just like that. After wrestling with disappointment and anger, I was gently reminded that worrying about our retirement money won't make it reappear. It's much more important for me to set my mind on things above, not on the many worries of this earth.

So tonight I'm trying to keep my eyes focused on Christ, and I'm praying for three things:
1) That God would take away my anxiety and fill my heart with joy and peace.
2) That during this financial crisis, our country would put our trust back in God instead of money.
3) And that God would bless the many people around the world who don't have many possessions but serve Him faithfully with their hearts and hands.

Our Favorite Children's Books

2008-09-30T22:14:00.001-07:00

Before the girls went to bed tonight, we read a sweet story called Little Pea. It's been the favorite book for the past few weeks, and Karly and Kiki think it's hysterical that Little Pea hates candy. I mean, really, who could possibly HATE candy??? Unless, of course, you happen to be a pea. When we turn the page to find out what Little Pea does like to eat, my kids giggle like they haven't already read the punchline like twenty (or thirty...) times.

In our search for books that our whole family enjoys, we've found a few that we can't help but read over and over. If you're in search of some great stories for the five-and-under crowd, I've listed our family favs on my website (i.e. click here).

And if you happen to have your own list of favorite children's books, please, PLEASE send it my way! Without some new suggestions, I may be reading about a certain candy-hating pea for many weeks to come...

Baby Preacher Video

2008-09-29T21:47:00.000-07:00

I needed a good laugh today. :) Here's a short video that I thought was hysterical:

Baby Preacher Video

Two New Books

2008-09-15T13:40:00.000-07:00

The girls started back to school almost two weeks ago. They are going to a local Montessori school three days a week and are loving all the outside playtime and challenging themselves with new activities.

I was supposed to have two novels due in February, but I just found out that I'll have until April to complete the second one (shoo...). I've been writing as fast as I can the past two weeks on the Crescent Hill manuscript, and it's been such a blessing to work three days and then have another four days each week to spend with my chicks. My goal is to have 40,000 words done on Crescent Hill by the first week of October. It's a pretty big goal for me, but I think I can, I think I can, I think I can... :)

The Black Cloister Reviews

2008-08-25T16:30:00.000-07:00

Here are the links to several recent reviews of The Black Cloister. I'm so grateful for each of you who have taken the time to read this novel and either post a review online or tell your friends about it.

Thank you! Thank you!!

CBN.com

Patti Lacy's Blog

Jessy Ferguson Blog

Real Life Review

Colorado Pix

2008-08-23T09:20:00.000-07:00

Here are the rest of our pictures from Colorado. What a great time we had visiting friends, hiking, swimming in Ouray's amazing hot springs pool, and visiting the hospital where Karly was born and the lodge where Jon and I were married.

Thank you to everyone who hosted our family in their homes! We're so thankful for each of you!!

Ghost Town Pix

2008-08-20T20:49:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite things to do is explore ghost towns. When we lived in Colorado, we used to take our truck on the rocky, back roads to find abandoned mines and mining towns. Most of the houses and buildings are now skeletons of wood, stone, and crumbling bricks, but every once in awhile, we've found a town that had been abandoned in more recent years.

On this trip, we took the girls to visit some of our favorite old places, but we also discovered a 1930s or 40s mining town abandoned in the last few decades. Because of all the broken glass and floors, I explored the four remaining houses in this town on my own. One of the houses had an old doctor's chair and dusty patient records scattered on the floor. The brightly-colored paint in all the houses was peeling, and I had to climb to get in one of the house because the stairs were gone. I loved roaming through these abandoned rooms and wondering...

For those of you who like ghost towns as much as I do, here are a few pix:

Yurt Camping

2008-08-18T23:12:00.000-07:00

Well, I had every intention of blogging regularly during our two weeks in Colorado but the time flew by and I still haven't downloaded our pictures. I'll try and post them later this week...

One reason I'm so late in posting is because when we got back from CO, we started preparing right away for a camping trip with friends from church. Here in Oregon, you have the option of reserving camp sites NINE months before your trip, and Oregonians do just that. We tried to reserve a tent site at the Ft. Stevens campground about six months ago and out of about five hundred sites, they had one site open on Saturday so we grabbed it.

The rest of our friends reserved yurt sites, at seven o'clock in the morning, nine months beforehand. In minutes, all the yurts were gone... But then one of our friends had to cancel last week and they let us borrow their reservations so we spent a wonderful weekend camping in a yurt.

We've never stayed in a yurt before but quickly discovered that it's a cross between a tepee, canvas tent, and small cabin. The best part about yurts is that they have electricity, beds, and HEAT. I've never slept better on a camping trip, and I loved making hot tea before going outside in the morning to start breakfast on our camping stove.

Besides the four of us getting a great night's sleep and escaping the hot temps at home, we also swam, flew kites on the windy beach, climbed an old shipwreck, roasted marshmallows with friends, rented a paddle boat, attempted (unsuccessfully) to catch a couple of fish, and ended the weekend eating seafood at a restaurant on the Columbia River.

Staying in a yurt has completely spoiled me for life. Forget tent camping! I'll be the one waiting in December at seven in the morning to reserve our yurt for August 2009.

Rocky Mountain Highs and Lows

2008-07-29T20:39:00.001-07:00

We flew into Denver on Sunday for a family vacation in the Colorado mountains. We love it here! We had a couple bouts of altitude sickness (or "alcohol sickness" as Karly named it??) the first two days (who thought it was a good idea to go from sea level to a hotel at 9,600 feet?).

Except for a few scrapes and my sunburned neck, all is well now. We're tucked into the Switzerland-esque town called Ouray for a couple days, surrounded by red-tinted cliffs and snow-glazed peaks. We took the girls on their first real four-wheeling trip today up to Yankee Boy Basin to see the waterfalls and wildflowers and several ghost towns. Kiki loved all the bumps though Karly wasn't so sure when the truck "leaned." Jon said we had to be careful not to go over a cliff, and Karly said, "But if we do, it's no biggie. We'll just get hurt and then we'll all go to heaven."

Here are some pix from our first two days. I love tiptoeing through these old houses and mines and wonder... Of course, with two young kids, we're now stomping through these decrepit old homes, but it's even more fun to marvel with them...and then go have some ice cream when we're done. :)

Karly's Parade Debut

2008-07-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

Here are a couple pix of Karly riding on her first parade float this weekend (yep, that's me making a fashion statement in the lab coat). Besides waving and smiling at all the people who smiled and waved back at her, her favorite part was pelting the crowds with candy.

2008-07-18T16:27:00.000-07:00

Talking with a friend last night, I learned that Brazil is on the verge of passing a law to criminalize anyone who speaks against or questions the practice of homosexuality. Here's a recent article about this measure:

www.worldnetdaily.com

Lost Lake Hike

2008-07-15T20:49:00.000-07:00

This weekend we hiked around Lost Lake, a three-mile path in the shadow of Mt. Hood. The weather was perfect, and the girls had fun skipping rocks, stomping across snow-packed trails (in July!), and wading in the icy water. Our latest pix:

Dancing around the World

2008-07-08T15:27:00.000-07:00

Have you seen this YouTube video of "Matt"--a guy who spent fourteen months traveling and dancing with people around the world? For some reason, I got all teary watching it though I don't think it's supposed to make you cry... :)

Where the Heck is Matt? (Mel's edited title)

Scrivener--Writing Software

2008-07-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

Usually I hate trying out new software--especially when I'm attempting to create, say, a novel. I get frustrated and distracted and quickly click back to reliable Microsoft Word where I can just write.

But I signed a contract for my next novel last week (hooray!), and I was searching for some way to organize all my research, character profiles, notes, etc. So I tried out Scrivener, the new writing software for Macs, and I have to tell you that I LOVE it. It's so easy to use with a great tutorial that showed me how to create index cards for my scenes and characters, easily compile both my synopsis and my manuscript draft, and then reorder my chapters/scenes with a few clicks. I can also color-code all my POVs and tag my research with Web site links and photos. All very cool things for a novelist. :)

If you're searching for writing software but don't have a Mac, here's a list for you. But if you're a writer (and you're on a Mac), you can try Scrivener for free for thirty days. Highly recommended!

Birthday Extravaganza

2008-06-30T22:57:00.000-07:00

Instead of having two small parties this year, the girls decided they wanted a big bash at the park to celebrate years four and five. I was hoping for sunshine and we had plenty of that--along with hundred degree temps (crazy hot for Oregon :). Thankfully, the park had a fountain so the kids splashed in the stone "river," ate melting popsicles, and plastered themselves with wet sand (or icing...). The big kids (i.e. the adults) hovered under the covered picnic area, and we cooled ourselves with lots of bottled water and ice.

My dad flew in from Ohio to celebrate their day, and the girls had a blast playing with all their friends and their best buddy "Pumpkin" (as they call their Grandpa). And, of course, a b-day party for Kiki wouldn't be complete without Nemo so she had a blue and orange "cupcake cake" this year.

I'm grateful for an amazing four/five years with my girls, and I'm grateful for wonderful friends from our church, school, and neighborhood to celebrate their special day with them.

Great Wolf Resort

2008-06-06T21:38:00.000-07:00

To celebrate the beginning of summer (and end of their first full year of preschool), we went with some friends this week to the new Great Wolf Lodge in Washington. If you've never been, it was an amazing experience for all of us. The whole family got two day passes to the very cool indoor waterpark that's connected to the resort so we spent the night and played and played.

Jon loved the high-thrill Howlin' Tornado, but me...not so much (especially not backwards!). I enjoyed the regular winding slides, and they had kid-sized slides that Karly rode over and over. Kiki liked the big wave pool and hot tub. And Kiki REALLY liked the white-chocolate pretzel with sprinkles that she got for a treat. In fact, she woke up this morning panicked that she couldn't find her special pretzel and begged me to search the house for it. I tried to convince her that it was a dream--she ate her pretzel a couple days ago--but she got mad at me for not looking fast enough. :)

So we splashed around for hours and ate great food and had some wonderful family time. We'll be back again next year.

The Black Cloister Final Trailer

2008-05-23T14:06:00.000-07:00

And thank you for all of your comments and suggestions for the book trailer!!

Click here if you'd like to watch the final version on YouTube.

The Black Cloister is Here!

2008-05-23T13:55:00.000-07:00

My box of The Black Cloister books has arrived! After two years of writing and editing, it was so much fun to rip open the box and see the FINAL version.

The Black Cloister is a suspense novel about two young women—one who is traveling across Germany in search of answers about her past and another who is trapped in an abusive religious cult and doesn’t know how to break free.

The idea for this story was sparked a few years ago while my family and I were living in the former East Germany. As I visited Martin Luther's Wittenberg and learned about the Reformation, I was intrigued by Katharina von Bora (Martin Luther's wife) and her daring escape from a German abbey.

When we returned to the States, I met a woman who had been raised overseas in an abusive religious cult. I began researching cults, and the initial idea about Katharina's escape grew into a contemporary novel that exposes the corruption and spiritual abuse of cult leaders as well as illustrates the balance of God's grace with obedience and service to Him.

Oregon Coast Hike

2008-05-20T15:27:00.001-07:00

On Sunday afternoon we escaped to the Oregon coast and found an incredible trail north of Lincoln City. We climbed up a steep hill, ducked under a leafy tunnel, and then hiked over a green pasture. At the top of the mountain were fields of purple and white wildflowers, grazing elk, and an incredible view of the Cascade Head bay and Pacific Ocean. Waves crashed against the boulders and cliffs below us, and clouds rolled over the green peaks in front of us.

The girls made it the four miles up and back with only a few scrapes. Jon's heart about failed when he almost stepped on a fierce black snake (that would be a garter snake, we think...). And I have tire-esque tracks embedded on my chin and left knee to commemorate my very ungraceful tumble down the hill. Everyone's bones are intact though so all is well.

After our hike, we ate clam chowder, fried scallops, fish & chips, and chicken strips on the beach--nothing like good seafood to top off a perfect hike and make you forget about your bumps and bruises.

The Black Cloister Give-A-Way

2008-05-12T17:00:00.000-07:00

Last week I created my first book trailer so I could put a video clip about The Black Cloister online. I showed my version to Jon, and my wonderful husband took one look at it, cleared his throat, and said, “uh…do you mind if I take a shot?” ☺

He took quite the shot! After a couple all nighters, he worked his magic to compose music and produce a trailer more amazing than I could have ever imagined. I realize, of course, that I’m a little biased about the “amazing” factor so if you have time to review the trailer, we would both love to hear any comments or suggestions you have on how to make it more compelling.

Click here if you'd like to watch The Black Cloister trailer.

And if you review the trailer this week, please include your comment on ilovegiveaways.blogspot.com as well to register for a free copy of the book.

Invisible Moms

2008-05-11T15:33:00.001-07:00

My stepmom sent me this beautiful story today. If anyone knows who wrote it, please let me know so I can credit them.

Happy Mother's Day to all of you wonderful, hardworking, and often invisible moms!

"I'm Invisible"

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of
response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room
while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.
Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or
cooking, or sweeping the floor or even standing on my
head in the corner because no one can see me at all.
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

Some days I'm not a pair of hands, I'm not even a human
being, I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite
guide to answer, "What number is the Disney channel?"
I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held
books and the eyes that studied history and the mind
that graduated summa cum laude -- but now they had
disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again.
She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating
the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten
back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on
about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking
around at the others all put together so well. It was hard
not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down a
t my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that
was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip
and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I
was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with
a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this."
It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't
exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
"To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you
are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read -- no devour -- the book. And
I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing
truths, after which I could pattern my work: No one can say
who built the great cathedrals -- we have no record of their
names. These builders gave their whole lives for a work
they would never see finished. They made great sacrifices
and expected no credit. The passion of their building was
fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came
to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw
a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He
was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending
so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered
by the roof? No one will ever see it." The workman replied,
"Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It
was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you,
Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when
no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no
sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small
for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great
cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction, but it is not a
disease that is erasing my life, it is the cure for the disease
of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong,
stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself
as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job
that they will never see finished, to work on something that
their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so
far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our
lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice
to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend
he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom
gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and
then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses
all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine
or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come
home. Then, if there is anything more to say to his friend,
I'd like him to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be
seen if we're doing it right. One day, it is very possible that the
world will marvel, not only at what we built, but at the beauty
that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible
women.

Ten years later...

2008-05-09T15:12:00.000-07:00

Jon and I are celebrating our anniversary today! Ten years ago we walked down a dusty, makeshift aisle in an old Colorado lodge and said our vows, as our pastor Kelly said, "in the eyes of God and this buffalo head" (which was peering down over our heads as he spoke).

We almost didn't get married under that buffalo head...

Two nights before, Jon and I had a huge fight at rehearsal because he wanted to change the order of our ceremony, and I could NOT handle one more change!! And then I bawled.

What we didn't know was that we had both secretly written each other a song, and that we both wanted to sing it (well, actually my dear friend Tosha, sang mine) at the same time. Of course, we couldn't tell each other our secret so we fought--and learned our lesson early about keeping secrets.

Fortunately Kelly and Tosha both knew what was going on, and Kelly assured Jon and I privately that he would give us an opportunity for the songs. Thank God for Kelly! No one canceled the wedding.

Our reception was held the night before our big day--a country dance at a ghost town museum--and then we woke up to blue sky and fresh snow on Pikes Peak. We ran into another little glitch, though, right before the ceremony. Seconds after the music began, my dad began having second thoughts about the whole wedding thing. He started crying, and I started crying, and it wasn't pretty. When we didn't show up at the doorway, Jon started to worry. I finally tugged on Dad's arm and pulled him to the door and down the aisle toward the buffalo head and my now quite worried groom. Jon thought he might have to wrestle me free, but when Kelly asked, Dad (reluctantly) gave me away.

Kelly forgot to bring our wedding vows (and, apparently, didn't want to tell me. hmm...I wonder why he was scared?). The thing was, though, I never even noticed that he revised our pre-written vows. I only remember saying "I do," listening to Tosha sing my song, and then Kelly turning with a smile and saying, "Now Jon has a surprise." My husband-to-be played his guitar and sang his beautiful song. And then I cried again, but this time for a different reason. I was one happy bride!

I never could have imagined ten years ago about the amazing adventure I was about to embark on that day. It has been an incredible journey...

I'm grateful for the godly, wonderful man who is my husband. I'm grateful for all of you who danced at our "pre-ception," celebrated with us on our wedding day, and have stuck with us now for ten more years. And I'm grateful, Dad, that you finally walked me down that aisle! :)

Spring is (finally!) here

2008-05-05T12:26:00.000-07:00

Jon woke up irritated around 5 a.m. this morning and growled, "What is that noise?" I listened and glanced outside the window. That "awful" sound was birds chirping in the trees outside. We laughed, slept a few more hours, and re-woke to a sunny day. Praise God! Blue sky. Warm temps. Short sleeve shirts!! Beside our zoo day last weekend, we haven't have much sunshine this spring. I dusted off my sunglasses and watched the girls jump on the trampoline that Jon recently brought out of hibernation. This was our first full winter in Oregon, and even though the cloudy and rainy days weren't as bad as we'd anticipated, we're grateful for the sunshine. And we're all hoping that it's finally here to stay...

Day at the Zoo

2008-04-27T22:01:00.000-07:00

Finally! We had a little sunshine over the weekend and temps that crawled up past seventy. It was a wonderful respite from the gray, gloomy weather we've had this spring. So we, along with most of the city, headed outdoors. We took the kids to the zoo, and they were mesmerized by the playful polar bears and sea lions. It seemed like the animals were as grateful for a little sunshine as we were...

This picture is of Kiki kissing the glass when the sea lion swam by. She kissed it over and over (and over!).

Karly's Hair

2008-04-07T16:43:00.000-07:00

Yes, Karly has very short hair these days. After reading a funny book at story time called Stephanie's Ponytail (where everyone but Stephanie chops off their ponytails), she got inspired to finish the job she started at Christmas. I tried to redeem some of her, uh, more creative clipping, but chunks of her bangs and back of her hair were cut to the scalp. Fortunately, very few people complimented her on her new hairstyle this time around so maybe it will grow out again. Or maybe not... I guess there are more important things in life than hair (though I have to say she's NEVER reading Stephanie's Ponytail again).

Easter Pix

2008-03-31T16:51:00.000-07:00

We had a wonderful, rainy Easter celebrating with friends. The girls painted eggs a few days before Easter and then spent hours practicing their search techniques and strategies for the big hunt. All their training paid off on Easter. They raced through the house and scooped up almost all the eggs in record time. There is still one egg hidden in our living room, and one of them will be SO excited when they find it and the jellybeans inside.

My dad came to visit this weekend, and we went hunting as well--this time for whales from a station on Hwy. 101. Dad saw one whale, but I'm not sure about the girls. Kiki was mesmerized by the whale-watching boats teetering in the ten-foot waves (I almost got seasick watching them from steady land). Karly was way too busy feeling whale skin and touching whale bones to actually look for live whales.

Here are some new pix:

Back Home

2008-03-19T13:22:00.000-07:00

I had an amazing trip to the Mt. Hermon writer's conference. I was encouraged, inspired, and had adult conversation for five days. And I slept great--my wonderful roommate didn't wake me up one time crying because she had a nightmare or asking me to go to the bathroom with her. :)

I'm enjoying hugs and kisses from the girls this afternoon, a princess fashion show, and a little bouquet of weeds that Karly picked for me. I've successfully folded laundry, found the knob that someone screwed off my nightstand to keep under her bed, and scrubbed a crayon masterpiece off our front windows.

My brain is still on overload and my body's a little tired, but it's good to be home.

Lost in Mount Hermon

2008-03-16T23:58:00.000-07:00

Mount Hermon in Northern CA has to be one of the best places to have a writer's conference. Great food. Gorgeous scenery. And hundreds of other writers who delight in even the smallest adventure.

After my workshops today, I wandered away from camp and hiked through the towers of sequoia trees until my path petered out. Below me was a stream, and on the other side were two wide paths leading, of course, to mysterious new places. So I climbed down and crossed the water on a sliver of a log.

There was a local hiker on the other side so I asked her how to get back to camp. She told me it was easy. Go left and stay on the lower path until I found the foot bridge. Cross it, and I'd be back.

But the lower path didn't stay low. It climbed higher and higher until I was almost at the top of the steep hill. I looked for a side trail that would lead me back down to the river, but never saw one under the thick brush and leaves.

The path curved, and as I hiked around it, I saw a camo-dressed guy chopping wood. He ignored me as I stepped closer, smiled, and stepped closer again. "How do I get across the river?"

He refused to meet my eye, grunting back at me instead. "The bridge is out."

"Okay..." I started to turn. "Is there, like, another bridge that maybe isn't so out?"

He swung his ax into the log, pointed toward the trees, and said something about there being a chain and a bridge that way. Good enough.

Even though his directions were a little sketchy, I found the narrow bridge and discovered that the trail back to camp was blocked on the other side--a nice detail my ax-wielding friend might have mentioned.

I hiked up a new hill, away from the trail, and followed worn railroad tracks toward what I thought would be the camp. Instead I found a couple more people...and they took pity on me. The guy pointed toward a meadow and listed off the bridges I needed to cross and hills I needed to climb to get back. Thankfully, he was right, and an hour or so after I started my short hike, I walked back into camp.

I'm thinking that before I tackle Mt. Hermon's wilderness again, I may just get directions prior to my departure. Or maybe I'll take my cell with me so I can call for a little back-up. Or maybe I'll get really smart and take a friend.

After I told someone how I'd gotten lost on the mountain, she said it sounded like fun and asked if she could go hiking with me tomorrow. Only a writer would understand....

Frozen Winters in Ohio

2008-03-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

My parent's home was buried under in Ohio this weekend. It made me remember all the frozen winters I spent there as a child--building snowmen, sledding down the big hill near our house, skating on the lake. But it was 65 and sunny in the Pacific NW yesterday so I'm having a hard time thinking about being in Ohio right now though my kids REALLY want to put on snow pants and stomp around in that wonderful white stuff. We only had a dusting of snow all winter here (no complaints from me...).

Here's a poem my stepmom sent me about winter in Ohio:

It's winter in Ohio
And the gentle breezes blow
Seventy miles an hour
At twenty-five below.
Oh, how I love Ohio
When the snow's up to your butt
You take a breath of winter
And your nose gets frozen shut.
Yes, the weather here is wonderful
So I guess I'll hang around
I could never leave Ohio
'Cause I'm frozen to the ground.

Author unknown

Last time I was in Ohio we were almost frozen to the ground, but we made it out in spite of the way-below-freezing temps and ice storm. Next time I visit will be in the summer. :)

My Parent's Front Porch

Martian Child (Recommended Movie on Adoption)

2008-03-02T19:31:00.000-08:00

This weekend we watched a great movie called Martian Child. If you haven't seen it, it's about a widower (John Cusak) who decides to adopt a troubled young boy, a boy who believes he's from Mars and spends his days inside a cardboard box instead of playing with other kids. Even with the difficult themes of emotional abuse and abandonment, the story is funny and heartwarming and presents the adoption of older kids in an honest yet hopeful way. I loved it!

It's so rare to watch a well-written, clean movie these days so kudos to New Line for giving us a family story without all the extra junk (apparently they edited the foul language out for the DVD version--double kudos).

As a writer, the characters in this movie are a great study (not to mention the main character happens to be a novelist who uses his love of science fiction to relate to the child). If you're not a writer, I hope you watch it as well. When it's done, you'll want to hug your kids, and if you've been considering adoption, you may be inspired to open your home to a child who needs a family.

Who Needs Writers...

2008-02-12T14:46:00.000-08:00

when kids provide so much great material. The girls keep asking to watch this video about Charlie (who bit his brother's finger). I keep letting them watch it because I think it's hysterical too. :) Watch out for your fingers...

Seduction and Destruction of Gambling

2008-02-05T15:30:00.000-08:00

Newsweek did an article this week on the "Road to Recession" in America. Apparently, as our income decreases and the cost of living increases, we spend what's left of our money on alcohol, tobacco, and gambling--along with health care, utilities, and consumer necessities like toothpaste. Good news for those invested in those industries. Bad news for families hit by the recession--especially if they have one parent trying to earn back their recession losses by playing blackjack or milking the slot machines.

When I did the research for my novel, Going for Broke, I was stunned at the deception and destruction of gambling. Many people really think it is a viable option for earning money yet millions of lives are being destroyed by this "harmless entertainment." When a man or woman gets trapped in this addiction, they will sacrifice their house, car, job, and their kid's lunch money to try and recover some of the money they've lost...or just to feel the rush from another win.

Here are a few statistics about gambling and gambling addiction:

Almost eight million American adults and another eight million American adolescents are considered to be problem or pathological gamblers. (Harvard Medical School)
Women succumb to gambling addiction nearly three times faster than men.
Approximately one in five compulsive gamblers attempt suicide.
In 2006, 50 percent of evangelical Protestants and 73 percent of mainline Protestants said they gambled in some form during the past year. (Pew Research)
In 2005, the gross revenues from all forms of gambling totaled nearly $85 billion — more money than Americans spend on movie tickets, theme parks, spectator sports and videogames combined. (CitizenLink)

For more information about the problem of gambling or to find out how to overcome this addiction, check out www.gamblingexposed.org.

Christmas Pix

2008-01-25T16:31:00.000-08:00

So I started this blog, uh, four weeks ago when we got back from Tennessee, but haven't had time to sort through our Christmas pictures. We had a wonderful time seeing my family and Jon's family, and the girls had a blast playing wih all their cousins. Karly cut her hair with Mimi's scissors so she's sportin' a new look for the New Year. Kiki caught a stomach bug on the airplane and passed it around.

We celebrated Jesus' birth before Christmas, and then I think we opened presents five times (bummer...). Kiki got a LeapPad and a Nemo computer game (we haven't seen her since). Karly got waffle blocks and a train set, and she's been busy building and creating.

We went four-wheeling through a nearby forest, and Mimi and Pop Pop B. treated us to a day at the wonderful Tennessee Aquarium. While Jon's parents played with the girls, Jon and I escaped to a little cabin near Asheville and had a white "day after" Christmas. Then we slept for two days. :)

Here's a few pix--thanks to both Mimis for being the photographers on this trip! The girls keep asking when it will be Christmas again...

Blue Monday

2008-01-22T22:14:00.000-08:00

I heard on the news last night that January 21st is the "most depressing" day of the year. Fortunately, we had sun yesterday and a clear view of snowy Mt. Saint Helens and the formidable Mt. Hood. But we haven't seen much of the sun for the past three weeks--it's been hiding behind the gray, gloomy clouds that hover over the Pacific NW this time of year.

I've had several friends ask me how I'm doing with the "winter blues." I can honestly say, thank God, that I'm doing great. I was worried when we left all that wonderful sunlight in CA so I began taking a tablet of Vitamin D every day. I try and exercise every morning, and I've found that even though it's been raining almost daily, it's important for the girls and I to get out of the house so we go do story time at the library or go play at McDonalds or take yet another trip to Trader Joes. Anything to get a little fresh air and just maybe a glimpse of the sun.

Today Karly complained because the sun was "wrinkling her eyes." I guess that's what happens when you only see it a couple times a month.

The upside of these chilly, gray days is the cold, dark nights. I have a good excuse to start the fire and cuddle up with a good book, a hot mug of tea, and usually a kid or two who have decided that my bed is warmer than theirs.

My Little Dancers

2008-01-07T19:52:00.000-08:00

It's awful hard for a girl to get ANY tap dancin' done when your sister keeps changing the music, but it's even harder when your sister upstages you with a little, uh, freestyle.

The Black Cloister Cover

2007-12-13T10:23:00.000-08:00

Here's the cover for The Black Cloister. Didn't Kregel do a fantastic job on the design? Yay!

Procrastination

2007-11-21T16:42:00.000-08:00

Wednesday is official cleaning day at the Dobsons. I vacuum, wash handprints off the mirrors, and scrape globs of hardened jam off the hardwood floor. Yep—glamorous stuff. The highlight of our week.

While I’m cleaning the entire house, the girls are responsible for picking up their playroom—putting away their toys and play clothes and books so I can actually see the floor before I sweep it. So today, once again, it’s four o’clock in the afternoon and I can’t tell if they’ve cleaned up a single toy because of the mountain of toys that have accumulated since they started “working” after breakfast.

The odd thing is, if I tell them to go PLAY in their playroom, will they go willingly? Nope. They would much rather be playing in the bathroom or kitchen or on Mommy and Daddy’s bed. But if I tell them to go CLEAN their playroom, they’ll rush to the loft, sit there all day and, well, play. Suddenly all the dolls and books and their little monkey laptop are very interesting. Much more exciting than cleaning. Sigh…

I’m done cleaning the house. They’re still working. So now I’m writing a blog. Not so strange except I’m on a tight deadline for The Black Cloister. And just like my girls, I am doing everything else except work on my manuscript. I’ve cleaned the house this week. Answered dozens of emails. Started reading a new book. Made a Christmas list. Watched Dancing with the Stars. Even hung up some new pictures. Because just like my sweet procrastinators, the very thought of being on deadline makes me want to do just about anything else except write.

Well, Karly is now shouting that she’s done. The reward—yogurt parfaits (my girls are “Fancy Nancy” fans).

Maybe that’s what I need to finish this deadline. A giant parfait. A couple more hours of cleaning time for my girls. And to actually edit my manuscript instead of this blog.

Christian Fiction Day

2007-11-16T08:07:00.000-08:00

In October, I was honored to be part of the first Christian Fiction Day at our local Christian Supply bookstore, and my friend and fellow writer Kathi Macias asked me to write an article about how we coordinated this event and book signing for today's CAN Marketing blog.

If you are interested in book marketing, check out the trove of information and creative ideas at http://canblog.typepad.com.

Kelli Standish

2007-11-12T13:43:00.000-08:00

Many of you know Kelli Standish. She's a wonderful friend, writer, brilliant Web site designer, and a servant of Christ. She's also in desperate need of emergency spinal surgery. She injured her back several years ago on a missions trip and because of other physical problems, she's unable to get insurance. And she doesn't qualify for State aid.

Sara Horn has written a beautiful tribute to Kelli, and my dear friend and editor Vennessa Ng of Aotearoa Editorial Service has put together an auction of books and editorial services to help raise money for Kelli's surgery.

Kelli has negotiated the price of the surgery and surgeon costs to about $10,000. If you would like to help her, you can visit kellistandishfundraiser.blogspot.com.

Kelli--you are much-loved!!

Fall Pictures

2007-10-31T17:33:00.000-07:00

We celebrated fall with a wonderful afternoon exploring the farms around Hood River. Blue skies, cool temps, and lots of fun picking way-too-many apples, riding a wagon through the orchards, and searching for the perfect pumpkin as Karly explained to us exactly how pumpkins grow (she's listening in preschool!). A fun family day.

Our Revised Christmas List

2007-10-23T16:55:00.001-07:00

“My son picked up his last Christmas gift from the pile and said, ‘Is that all?’”

Is that all? The words echoed in my mind as I listened to this sweet woman agonize over how she wanted to buy her kids presents, but whenever her boys received gifts, they complained about not getting enough or exactly what they wanted. How sad—for her and her kids.

Her comments made me dig deep because like this woman, I want to give my kids things—a lot of things—but I don’t want them to evolve into “more, More, MORE” monsters. What to do?

As a lover of lists (and a bit obsessive), I sat down and began writing out all the gifts I want to give to my kids for Christmas. Karly has already asked for “waffle blocks” (and, really, how can you say “no” to waffle blocks?). In addition to some waffle blocks, here’s my new Christmas list for our family:

The Gift of Home
Getting those last, lingering boxes unpacked WILL happen before the end of the year. And we’re going to turn the girl’s bedroom into a colorful, kid’s place. They picked out purple and pink paint with a border of hearts, and now we need to finish it off with pictures. After over three years of transition, Karly and Kiki will finally have a little room to call their own.

The Gift of Experiences
Kayaking at the beach. Snowshoeing near Mt. Bachelor. Riding horses in the forests of Central Oregon. Camping in the Puget Sound. Kicking the soccer ball at the local park. There are so many things I’d like to do with the girls this winter and spring, adventures to open their eyes and increase their confidence, experiences of wonder that I hope they will remember for the rest of their life.

The Gift of Family
For Christmas we’re going east to celebrate with grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. What a treat to be able to spend a week with the people we love! Karly is counting the days until she receives this wonderful gift.

The Gift of Giving
How can a three- and four-year-old help other people? I just discovered that there is a local outreach that provides food and clothing to needy kids across our city. And the best thing is, they have a once-a-week family night where little ones can come with their parents and help pack up the items. My hope is that the girls will love to give as much as they love to receive.

The Gift of Independence
Sniff. Sniff. We keep telling our kids to stop growing yet they continue to do so—at an incredibly rapid rate. I buy pants at Target. Two weeks later, I’m shopping for pants again. Of course, I’m not the least bit upset to be saying goodbye to diapers and the Trying Twos (& Threes), but as the girls develop their own interests, I know I need to slowly let go even more—one slow (ouch!) finger at a time.

The Gift of Faith
The rescue of The Good Samaritan, the triumph of both Joseph and David, and the victory of Christ rising from the dead. Karly loves hearing the Bible stories about risk and adventure and salvation. Kiki, on the other hand, only wants to hear one story—Jonah and the Whale (shocking, I know). But Kiki loves to memorize Bible verses, and it is such a delight to hear her say Psalm 23 or one of the many verses that she likes to quote. My hope and prayer as they continue learning these verses and stories, the knowledge of Christ’s redemption transforms their hearts and minds.

So there is my new Christmas list for our family. If you have any other ideas for gifts (or have an inside track on waffle blocks), please let me know!

Mommy Rage

2007-09-13T09:35:00.000-07:00

"Before I got married I had six theories about bringing up children; now I have six children and no theories."—John Wilmot

I was at Target today trying to buy a vegetable steamer when Karly knocked a blender lid off the shelf. Thankfully, there was no shattering of glass so I told her to pick it up which (shocker) she did without complaint.

As all parents know, shopping with two busy preschoolers is no small feat. My nerves were fried before I walked in the door, and the knock-the-merchandise off the shelf didn’t help. But my blood pressure hit the ceiling when an older man walked by and in a sing-songy, sarcastic voice zapped me with: “Mommy, watch your children.”

My back arched. The claws popped out.

“Excuse me?” I yelled, pushing the cart (and Kiki) to the end of the aisle.

But he was long gone. He blasted me with his insult and took off down another aisle before I could respond. A hit and run.

My pulse racing, I wanted to chase him down and ask him a few things like:

Who gave you permission to criticize me?
How dare you imply that I’m neglecting my kids?
And, most important, why don’t you stop and help an obviously frayed mom who could use an extra hand?

At that moment, I figured it wouldn’t be good for me or my girls to chase an unkind man through the store and zap him back. And it certainly wouldn’t be modeling the Christ-like behavior that I want to demonstrate to my kids.

So I took a deep breath and prayed for peace as I bought my steamer, coaxed the girls toward and into the car, and watched the man get into his car and drive away.

My heart started to calm, and I began to wonder where my anger bubbled up from. Insecurity? You bet. Guilt? Definitely. Wounded pride. Absolutely! Some days I feel like almost anyone else except me would do a better job parenting my kids and having an insult flung at me on a bad day can make me want to sit down and sob.

As I drove away from the store, I realized that it didn’t matter what that man or anyone else thought as long as I was doing my best to care for my children (which sometimes means shopping for little things like clothes, band-aids, food, and even a steamer).

And I decided one other thing—the next time a grouchy man decides to insult me and my parenting skills, I’ll just sic Karly on him. She’ll either hug him or hit him, but either way, I bet he won’t say another word.

End of Summer Pix

2007-09-07T15:32:00.000-07:00

As our first summer in Oregon fades into fall, here are a few last pictures of the Dobson family enjoying a wonderful week with Mimi & Papa Dobson at the beach and hiking up Lookout Mountain over Labor Day.

Kiki started her first day of preschool on Wednesday, and she loves her teachers and all the fun crafts & activities. The girls have class at the same time, and after their first day, they both ran out of their separate doors and gave each other a giant hug. Moments like that make Mommy (that would be me) smile!

Oregon Summer

2007-08-02T07:49:00.000-07:00

So we are LOVING summer in Oregon (which I’m told is really July – Sept). We’ve been biking and walking in the cool evenings, jumping on our new trampoline, hunting for starfish in the tide pools along the coast, touring local gardens, and we even went camping to Silver Falls last weekend and hiked up to and then behind two spectacular waterfalls.

The hills are so green and lush around us and seem to be filled with every type of produce imaginable. We’ve been eating a flat of fresh blueberries every week (that’s twelve very-full pints), raspberries, marionberries, and strawberries. The blackberries are starting to appear everywhere—no need to buy them, just stop along the road and start picking.

We’re grateful for this season of sunshine and rest and are enjoying God’s many wonderful gifts. Here are a few pix of our summer days:

Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture

2007-07-23T16:25:00.001-07:00

Mary DeMuth’s latest book, Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture, is an honest look at raising children in a world where truth is relevant and black and white morality has blurred gray. She looks at how to live out truth today and demonstrates how to use the strengths of postmodern thinking to prepare our kids to live out their faith outside of home.

Communication is one of the best places to understand and help guard our children's hearts, and below is a great excerpt from Mary's book (supplied by Harvest House Publishers) about conversational parenting that is both spontaneous and purposeful.

“The word purposeful has many synonyms: resolved, determined, deliberate, intentional, committed, decided, resolute, fixed, persistent, tenacious. Antonyms include unintentional and purposeless. Look back over the ten synonyms and ask yourself the following questions.

Resolved. How have I resolved to connect with my children this year? Have I changed the way I approach my children since last year? Why or why not?
Determined. How have I been determined to really know my children’s hearts in the last two weeks?
Deliberate. What deliberate steps have I taken to reveal my heart to my children?
Intentional. How have I been intentional with each of my children? How have I tailored my words to each child this week?
Committed. Have I committed myself to knowing my children? How?
Decided. What have I decided about each child that prevents me from connecting with him or her? What barriers have I erected? What obstacles have my children put between us?
Resolute. How have I resolved this year to pursue the soul of each child? What prevents me from doing that?
Fixed. Have I become so busy that I have not fixed my schedule to meet the needs of my children? Am I interruptible? Is my schedule too fixed? Do I fully fix my attention on my children when they are in the room?
Persistent. When my children don’t engage with me, am I persistent? Do I relate more to the woman or the judge in this story: In a certain city there was a judge who did not fear God and did not respect man. There was a widow in that city, and she kept coming to him, saying, 'Give me legal protection from my opponent.” For a while he was unwilling; but afterward he said to himself, “Even though I do not fear God nor respect man, yet because this widow bothers me, I will give her legal protection, otherwise by continually coming she will wear me out' (Luke 18:2-5 NASB).This is an amazing parable for parents. May we be persistent, pestering our children with our knocking at the door of their hearts. But so often we are like the reluctant judge, bothered by the interruptions of our children.
Tenacious. Are you a tenacious receiver and sender in the communication game? If a child blows you off, do you gather yourself and try again? How easily do you quit?

Purposeful communication happens when we dare to be tenacious parents who passionately pursue the soul of each child. The old adage applies to our communication with our children: They won’t care how much we know until they know how much we care. Within the context of a loving, safe home where parents pursue their children in a variety of ways, communication flourishes.”

For more information or to order Authentic Parenting in a Postmodern Culture, visit Mary's blog.

Power of Fiction

2007-07-20T09:50:00.000-07:00

I just finished reading Marlo Schalesky’s latest novel Veil of Fire, and it was one of the most intriguing historical novels I’ve ever read. The story is based on a real event—a fire that swept destroyed six towns and killed more than 400 people in Minnesota in 1894. After the fire, the people of Hinckley rebuilt their town, but a rumor began of a hermit who survived and lived in the hills—a person severely burned, disfigured beyond recognition. It could have been anyone’s mother or father or child, but the identity of the “ghost” remains a mystery.

Marlo decided to revive this almost forgotten legend and ask the question: “Who was the monster in the hills?” The answer is a beautifully written novel filled with mystery and truth.

Why does Marlo write fiction? In her own words…

Power of Fiction
by Marlo Schalesky

I love a powerfully told story. There’s nothing better than a good movie, or a great book. I love characters who show what truth looks like through lives lived and struggles fought. I love to see through another’s eyes, feel what they feel, experience life in a new and different way. I think we all do. That’s why movies and TV dramas are so popular. Fiction is great entertainment.

But it’s also more. It has the power to change lives, make a difference. By seeing through the eyes of another, by living vicariously through the lives of characters, by encountering the true God even in a made-up plot, I am touched, challenged, changed. I see God in new ways. My vision is broadened, deepened. And I discover truth with new clarity. Fiction lays bare the imperfections of my soul, stirs my doubts and questions, and drives me into the throne room of God. And that’s why I love writing fiction.

Through writing my latest novel, Veil of Fire, I have come to understand more fully that God’s love can’t be measured by my successes and failures. I’ve learned that my life, too, is a story that God is writing. And since the best stories have conflict, disappointments, and plenty of action, I shouldn’t be surprised when my life takes a turn and my faith is challenged once again.

And so I hope that my readers, too, will be changed and challenged through the power of story. I hope they will be encouraged to persevere through difficulties, to press closer to God, to not settle for the easy answers but wrestle with the tough questions of life and faith, to dig deeper with God. And that’s why I write fiction.

To find out more about Marlo and her books, visit her website at www.marloschalesky.com or order on Amazon.

Writers and Fish

2007-07-17T22:44:00.000-07:00

If you haven’t been to the Atlanta aquarium, it’s breathtaking. Fish swim overhead above tangled vines and tanks with electric eels, glimmering piranha, and the creepy gray and pink arapaima. There are beluga whales, leafy seahorses, moon jellies, African penguins, and every kind and color of tropical fish in their amazing ocean display.

What was I doing in Atlanta last week (sans kids!)? I was at the annual Christian booksellers convention—catching up with friends, meeting with business contacts, and signing a few books. While I love the energy at ICRS, I was ready to escape for a few hours on Sunday afternoon so I joined the lines of tourists crowding into the new aquarium at Centennial Park.

As I rested on the floor in front of a 63-foot window, I marveled at the schools of cownose stingrays (fifty or more) gliding like eagles below the giant whale sharks. And I was at peace as I was reminded of the amazing details and differences in God’s creation.

In a convention filled with awards and well-known writers and bestselling products, it’s easy to sink into the trap of feeling lost and unimportant. But as I wandered around and looked at hundreds of different kinds of fish, God reminded me that not only did he design a spectacular underwater world, He created every person unique with distinct personalities and interests and stories to tell. Even if my talents seem small or insignificant compared to other writers, it doesn’t matter. I am who God made me, and I pray that I’m doing exactly what He wants me to do.

June Pix

2007-06-16T00:29:00.001-07:00

Kiki just celebrated her third birthday with Pop Pop, our wonderful neighbors, and Nemo. When your three (and think your name is Nemo!), life doesn't get much better than that.

Here are a few new pictures of us playing near home. Yay for summer and sunshine!

How to Recognize a Toxic Church (by Shelley Bates)

2007-06-06T21:04:00.000-07:00

As I worked on The Black Cloister this year, a friend (thanks Kelli!) suggested I read Shelley Bates' Elect Trilogy. I discovered three powerful, redemptive stories about young women trapped in a toxic church. Shelley’s latest book, Over Her Head, is about a “perfect” Christian mother whose daughter becomes a suspect is a murder, and I couldn’t put that book down either.

Following is Shelley's story and her list on how to recognize a toxic church:

Shelley Bates
My Elect Trilogy deals with toxic faith in detail, because those books were part of my journey out of an underground house church--and, as it turns out, became part of my parents' journey out of the same group, which they'd been in for sixty years.

My new release, Over Her Head, treats the subject a little more gently. My heroine, Laurie, suffers from the insidious toxicity known as "salvation by works." Her life is crowded with works--for her family, for the church, for others--but at the core is an empty hole where God should be. In her journey, she learns to make her way through that crowding and discover
what her soul needs most.

As you can probably tell, this subject is very close to my heart, because one of the hallmarks of a toxic church is an emphasis on working one's way to salvation instead of rejoicing in the grace that is ours because of the sacrifice of Jesus. During my journey to discovering grace, I read the book Toxic Faith by Stephen Arterburn and Jack Felton, which contains a list of the many ways to recognize a toxic church. So, here's my boiled-down Top Ten:

1. The members claim their character, abilities, or knowledge make them "special" in some way.

2. The leader(s) are dictatorial and authoritarian.

3. Members have an "us" versus "them" mentality toward people "in the world."

4. These systems are punitive in nature.

5. Members are asked to give overwhelming service.

6. Many in the system are physically ill, emotionally distraught, and spiritually dead.

7. Communication is from the top down or from the inside out.

8. Legalism prevails. Rules are distortions of God's intent and leave Him out of the relationship.

9. There is no objective accountability—"We are accountable only to God."

10. Labeling is used to discount a person who opposes the beliefs of the system ("She has a bad spirit" ... "He's deceived").

When I was still in the church and read this list, my eyes popped ... because it matched what was going on! After that, my guilt and fear about leaving just dissolved.

Black Cloister is Done!

2007-06-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

At 5:12 this morning, I emailed The Black Cloister manuscript off to my publisher. Thank God, this manuscript is finally done. I’ve been carrying the story around in my head for almost ten months so it's long overdue to be birthed on paper.

A huge thank you to my amazing editor Nessie Ng for all her hard work strengthening my characters and getting me back on track with the plot. And thank you to all of those who have prayed me through the writing of this spiritually and emotionally exhausting story. I'm glad to be on the other side.

My next book is going to be fun, light, maybe even funny. Really...

Now I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll wake up on Thursday. Or even Friday.

Or in two hours when my girls are ready to play.

Dr. Falwell

2007-05-15T14:21:00.000-07:00

Jerry Falwell is in heaven tonight, celebrating with the Savior he dedicated his life to over fifty years ago. I can almost see him slapping the backs of thousands of friends who came to know Christ through his ministry.

Jerry Falwell was the real deal—a man who gave his life to help hurting people and inspire the thousands of us who attended Liberty University with a vision to change the world. I only met him once, but he spoke to the students at least once a week during my years at LU. His message was simple—find out what God wants you to do with your life and then do it. Don’t get sidetracked. Don’t quit. Serve Him with your whole heart and your mind.

I'm saddened that we have to say goodbye to this passionate, loving, visionary, and funny man. Even though he is gone, his legacy will live on forever.

Going for Broke

2007-04-26T17:46:00.000-07:00

Two boxes arrived at my doorstep this afternoon. I glimpsed at the return label, and my heart started racing. The Going for Broke books were finally here!

I told Karly that the boxes were full of Mommy's new book, and she helped me open the first one. But as I pulled out a crisp new copy, she ran to the kitchen in search of something more exciting (i.e. a cheese stick).

So I was left alone to celebrate, welcoming the quiet as I swept my hand over the cover and then cracked it open to read the first lines that I'd already read dozens of times.

After almost two years of writing, editing, and rewriting, Going for Broke is officially done! It's surreal to have the finished book in my hands, and I thank God for the blessing of being able to share another story.

The Hunt for Kiki

2007-04-25T17:57:00.000-07:00

This morning when I woke up, I went to check on Kiki. Just like normal. She’s usually cuddled up on her bed with her blanket and yellow sunshine toy (Ni Ni), but this morning she wasn’t in her bed. I blinked in the dim room like she might suddenly appear. Still no Kiki.

So I backed out of her room and jogged down the stairs.

I figured that she'd probably tiptoed by our bedroom and was rummaging through a box of cereal so when I rounded the corner I expected to find her sitting on a stool with a guilty grin.

But she wasn’t in the kitchen either.

So I started to search. Quickly! Her playroom. The couches. Our den. But I couldn't find her anywhere.

The panic set in.

I shouted upstairs to enlist Jon and Karly in the hunt as I ran to the front door (locked). And the back (also locked). And then to garage.

When we still couldn’t find her, I did what any mom would do—I started screaming her name, hoping to wake her up if she’d fallen asleep in some odd place. And praying that somehow she hadn’t disappeared.

Finally, Karly yelled down to me from the second floor. “I found her!”

I rushed up the stairs, my heart about to spring out of my chest. Kiki was in her bedroom, half asleep, snuggling in her Daddy’s arms. She looked up at me like I was crazy.

I reached out to hug her. “Where was she?”

Karly shrugged her shoulders. “Under the bed.”

I crouched down to look under the frame. I have no idea how she squeezed under that tight place in her sleep, but I’ve never been so grateful to find my baby. It was a heart-stopping morning with yet another reminder of how thankful I am for our girls.

Green Monsters

2007-04-02T09:00:00.000-07:00

I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. (Philippians 4:12)

Yesterday our pastor spoke about being content—in every situation. He talked about how the constant desire to want more things or more money or different circumstances sucks the joy out of our Christian life. It was a good message. The perfect reminder to keep our eyes on Christ.

But the message didn’t resonate with me. I’d heard it before, and that familiar pull for more or better things has eased off since we moved to Oregon. Our house seems perfect for our family. We don’t need more stuff (okay, a rug for our hardwood floor would be nice and paint for the girl’s room and a hutch for the dining room…). I’d like these new things, but I don’t feel the root of envy taking over.

At least I didn’t think I did…until I settled in for a relaxing afternoon with a latte, a fire, and of course a good novel. Grace at Low Tide by Beth Webb Hart. An amazing, beautifully-written, soul-stirring book.

And then I realized I am NOT satisfied with my circumstances. Or my abilities. I’m far from it!

No matter how hard I try, I will never be able to write creative, quirky characters like Ms. Hart. Or witty descriptions. Or metaphors that make you stop reading to savor the words.

Envy—yep. Jealousy—you bet. Contentment (groan). Apparently not.

The green monster began strangling my mind and my soul. I want to write prose like this! I want to create words and sentences that make the reader go “wow!” I want be like Beth Webb Hart!

Whine. Whine. Whine.

I’ll never stop trying to improve my description and characters. No matter how long I write, I’ll attempt to make each book, each character a little better than the last. But I’ll never write a book like Grace at Low Tide. Literary fiction is Ms. Hart’s gift, and I can’t wait to read her next book.

As I start working on a new manuscript this week, I need to keep my eyes on Christ. If I let discontentment destroy my confidence, I’ll be too terrified to write the first word.

Okay, it’s too late. I’m terrified already.

Maybe next week the pastor will talk about overcoming fear…since I don’t need that message either.

A little late but...Christmas Pix

2007-03-08T16:20:00.000-08:00

It's March! And I still haven't posted the pictures from our wonderful Christmas trip to Florida. What happened to January and February? This moving thing has taken up WAY too much time.

So, finally, I've downloaded our pictures and—hooray—here they are.

It will probably be June before I get pix up of the girls in our new home—when I find the camera, that is... Sigh.

Christmas Morning

Karly Visiting Baby Jesus in Bethlehem

Off to Visit Cinderella

Mimi's the Best!

Hugs for Uncle Jim

We love our cousins!!

Goodnight Papa

Don't Make Me Get Out of this Icy Pool!

Disney Chicks

Pretty in Pink

There's Pluto! And Ariel! And Cinderella! And Micky Mouse! And Nemo! And...

Karly's Pro Tour

Hangin' with Aunt "Kissy" on the "Tramp"

Can't a Girl Get a Little SLEEP around Here!

Interview with Sharon Hinck

2007-02-25T18:00:00.000-08:00

I read Sharon Hinck's latest novel, Renovating Becky Miller, the week we were moving, and I needed the humor and encouragement as we trudged through house complications, a broken-down car, and multiple airplane flights with exhausted kids. I laughed alongside Sharon’s wonderful, quirky characters, and my heart empathized with every moment of Becky Miller’s chaos.

Sharon's graciously stopped by today on her international blog tour to answer a few questions about her wonderful novel:

(Melanie)
Like most women, I was tracking with Becky Miller's insanity as she tried to balance her work, home, family, and ministry. Do you have some suggestions on how to steal away a few quiet moments each day without neglecting the never ending "must do" list?

(Sharon)
Good question. I write about these issues because I struggle with them – so I’m always seeking God’s help in this area. However, I’ve seen that the pressures of the “to do” list come more from my heart than my actual schedule. When I’m living in fear – trying to make sure I “get it right” or taking on responsibility to “fix everyone” because deep down I’m not trusting God to have it all under control – then even simple responsibilities become heavy. When I’m desperate for people’s approval, (or doubting God’s love and approval) I take on more than I should. I’ve noticed that it’s a badge of honor for Christian women to lament how busy they are. When I take time to remember God loves ME (not what I accomplish) and that nothing will ruin that love (even my failures) I can face the towering “to do” list with a bit more peace – and ask Him to guide me to the best among all the good choices.

We don’t manage this every day, but often my husband and I will use a Psalm to start our day. He’ll read a verse or a paragraph, then I’ll pray, using that scripture to steer the prayer. Then he’ll pray, applying it further. Then I’ll read the next section and he’ll pray. (Just don’t try this with Psalm 119 when you both have to get to work that day!) :-)

I also try to “sneak” prayer time in throughout the day. Folding laundry, I pray for the person whose socks I’m matching up. Peeling potatoes, I pray for each person who will eat the meal. Driving, I sing (off-key and at the top of my lungs) in praise (until there are kids in the car...then they insist I stop). When I get an email from a friend with a concern, I write an email prayer to send her.

Most of all, I’m trying to become more alert to “interruptions” to my agenda...because that’s often where God’s grace wants to pour out.

(Melanie)
One of the themes in your latest book is the guilt weighing down Becky's heart as she tries to solve everyone else's problems and ultimately save the world. What does Becky realize about this heavy burden that she carries?

(Sharon)
She acknowledges that her shoulders aren’t big enough to carry it. Her problems are God-sized problems. That’s scary for her, because it means giving up control. For example, she thinks she KNOWS the best solution for her mother-in-law. Accepting that there might be other answers is a difficult step of trust for her.

(Melanie)
You begin each chapter with a clip from a classic movie . Did you watch each movie to get inside the main character's heads? If not, how did you capture the tone of each film so perfectly?

(Sharon)
Hee hee! Should I really admit how many movies I’ve watched? That sounds deeply unspiritual.

Thanks for noticing that I tried to capture tone and flavor with those vignettes. It’s tricky, because it’s Becky’s subconscious mind at work, so it needs to carry her voice – yet I also wanted to convey the unique feel of diverse styles of films.

(Melanie)
What are Sharon Hinck's top tips for home and heart renovation?

(Sharon)
Only God is able to do a make-over of our hearts.
I’m a “fixer-upper” - not a sleek gorgeous model home in move-in condition. Yet God has chosen to live in me – shabby, sagging foundation, peeling paint, and all. Little by little His love transforms us into the beautiful dwelling place we wish to be. He knew what He was getting when He purchased me (unlike many of us who buy old homes and don’t see the hidden problems). Yet He chose me anyway, at great cost, and moved right in. Some days the sheet-rock dust is flying all over my soul because He’s hard at work with some serious renovations. I grouse about that. But I’m also grateful.

(Melanie)
If you'd like to check out more of Sharon's work, her website is www.sharonhinck.com.

Thanks for stopping by, Sharon!

Favorite New Novels

2007-02-21T22:19:00.000-08:00

It’s not often that I read a novel that captivates me, but this fall and winter, I’ve read three provocative, well-written, and inspirational novels that have sent me on a remarkable journey far removed from boxes, potty training, and deadlines. If you’re looking for a great book to read this spring, I highly recommend:

Coldwater Revival (Nancy Jo Jenkins)
Every beautifully written sentence in this book painted a picture. Every scene transported me back in time to the tragedy and triumph in the soft heart of the main character, Emma Grace. The author's passion for this story is palpable, and I savored every word.

Finding Faith (Denise Hunter)
If you read this novel, prepare yourself for an incredible ride. The story is about adoption, abortion, love, and grace with a twist that stunned me. Thankfully I started it on a Sunday afternoon because I literally couldn’t put it down.

Freefall (Kristen Heitzmann)
This romantic suspense grabbed me on the first page. A woman emerging from the base of a waterfall. Stunned. With amnesia. She hikes through a dense forest on Kauai and stumbles into the yard of a woman who changes her life.

And then, of course, there’s a terrific novel called Together for Good…but I can’t remember that author’s name.

Happy reading!

Welcome Home!

2007-01-30T18:06:00.000-08:00

I love taking Sunday afternoon drives and dreaming about what it would be like to live in an oceanside manor or a log home in the mountains or a beautiful Victorian mansion downtown. But searching for a house where my family can actually live is another story.

When we found out we would be moving to Portland, we spent the first few weeks of December skimming through listings online, picking out our favorites, and then almost three weeks ago, we flew to Oregon and began visiting all the houses on our list. One by one we deleted our possibilities with swift, mental notes. Overpriced. Scary neighborhood. Too far from Jon’s work. Falling apart. Backs up to major intersection. Growing mold. Steep hill. Living room window overlooks neighbor (not that we don’t want to get to know our neighbors but the front row view into their house is too much for us).

And so we prayed yet again for help as I lost sleep over what we were going to do without a house. We had to move out of L.A. on the 27th, and if we didn’t have a place to live, we’d have to put everything back in storage and live out of our suitcases again…indefinitely. It’s not that I don’t appreciate the perks of living in a hotel, but after three years of constant traveling and moving, we were all ready to settle into something more permanent.

O ye of little faith…

A week ago on Saturday, we pulled up some new listings and began the search again. Our first stop was a house that was not only over our budget, but it needed major renovations and a truckload of bleach. Our shoulders slumped as we trekked out to our car yet again and drove to the next place.

Nothing could have prepared us for what we found.

When I walked into this house, Jon was up in the loft, grinning ear-to-ear as he gave me a giant two-thumbs-up. I breathed a deep sigh of relief before I even looked in the first room. It felt like home.

The house had a loft for the kids to play. A den that I could make my “library". Flat space out back for a trampoline. Multiple fireplaces. A giant kitchen (and bathtub). Gorgeous wrought-iron accents. And it was beside a wildlife refuge so the views out the side of the house were all treed. To top it off, the house was less expensive than almost every house we’d already looked at—right in our budget. Amazing. Thanks, God!!

We put in an offer. They accepted. And a week later (yesterday) we moved our furniture into our “dream home". The timing is incredible, and my shaky faith has been stretched yet again. I can almost hear God shouting from above (for all of you Extreme Home Makeover fans):

“Dobson Family…Welcome Home!”

Snowed In

2007-01-16T12:07:00.000-08:00

Snow is dumping outside our hotel window today. Portland is smothered with white, and the kids are hiding in the closet…now they’re running into walls…now they’re jumping on the bed. Fortunately, there’s a swimming pool downstairs, plenty of local food delivery, and Dora the Explorer waiting to entertain my troops from the TV. The girls are just thrilled that we don’t have to spend another day hunting for a house—the whole caged-up-in-a-car thing is getting old.

The past month we’ve been living out of our suitcases between Orlando, Los Angeles, and now Portland. We visited Disney World over Christmas, and Karly was mesmerized by all the princesses and their “beautiful dresses.” Kiki discovered Pluto...and hasn’t stopped talking about him since. They both got to race around the curves on their first “koller coaster” and fly away on the Dumbo ride. But as much fun as they had at Disney and “Apricot” (Epcot), they preferred spending their days jumping on the trampoline with their very cool cousins and playing in Uncle Gerry’s swimming pool.

Our warm, wonderful two weeks in Orlando sped by, and then we flew back to L.A. to replace our T-shirts and shorts with sweaters and jeans. We sped off to the airport again until our shuttle to L.A.X. broke down. Our airplane also had mechanical issues, circling L.A. for almost an hour before we flew north. We were just grateful the plane didn’t leave us stranded as well.

It’s been cold and sunny since we arrived in Oregon—my first time in Portland. I love all the trees and hills and older homes mixed in with the new. I can’t tell you how many houses we’ve toured, but we’ve narrowed our search down to two. After moving so often during the past three years, its strange—and a bit scary—to buy a house. But I’m sure living in a hotel for a few more weeks will alleviate all of my fears.

Our official move is in less than two weeks—house or no house. Here’s to hoping snowy Portland is finally home!

Grandma's Final Goodbye

2007-01-06T11:20:00.000-08:00

My grandma died yesterday. She’s been sick for a while, longing for a place where she would be healthy and warm again. As hard as it is to say goodbye, it's time for her to go home.

Grandma lost her hearing from a stroke while I was in high school. She’s been communicating for two decades by scribbled notes and hand gestures though the past few years she hasn’t been able to read or write much. I can imagine her this morning singing with the angels. Basking in the beautiful music. Savoring the warmth of God’s light. And resting in Grandpa’s strong arms.

My grandmother was a confident, strong-willed woman. She raised four daughters, made the best strawberry jam I’ve ever tasted, and encouraged me to dream big as a writer. Every Easter, Christmas, and Fourth of July, she welcomed her nine grandchildren home with enthusiastic hugs and kisses, and then she’d faint from the excitement. Grandma fainted over and over again when the grandkids were there. And then she’d stand in her window when we left and blow kisses and wave and wave until we were out of sight.

Grandma’s home has been the one consistent place in my life. She’s lived in the same house since I was born, and I relish the memories—crowding into her dining room for brunch, scrambling across the grassy hill to find Easter eggs, laying under the Christmas tree to look up at the lights, climbing the giant tree in her backyard, playing Tiddlywinks with my cousins, and hiding away in the musty basement to read Goodnight Moon and Madeline.

The last time I visited Grandma, I sensed that it might be our final goodbye. Her great granddaughters may not remember her, but I’m grateful that they both got to meet her. And they both have a beautiful doll that she picked out especially for them to cherish.

I can still see Grandma’s face in the window, smiling and waving and blowing kisses. But now I’m the one blowing kisses as she leaves for home.

I’ll miss you, Grandma! Please give Grandpa a hug for me and tell Jesus that someday I want to join your side. We’ll sing together and tell stories without a pencil and paper and dance the Charleston down the golden streets like crazy kids.

Karly's Christmas Krump

2006-12-15T01:23:00.000-08:00

Last night Jon and I decided that we are now official parents. Not that all the late night snuggling, bottle feeding, diaper changing, and potty training didn’t qualify us for parenthood. But there is something about sitting in an audience, with a cheesy grin spread across your face, and proudly watching your three-year-old sport a crooked paper hat and belt out Christmas carols—or in our case, dance and chew on her shirt while the other kids sang.

Karly loves to sing at home but apparently in front of a live audience, words just aren’t enough. She waved and smiled as she wiggled to Rudolph. She lay her head down on (you guessed it) Away in a Manger, hip hopped through Joy to the World, and stomped her heels all over Jingle Bells.

No choreography necessary for our kid. It was like she’d preplanned her kicks, jumps, and bows. And occasionally—you had to be quick to see it behind all her krumping—she would even sing a line or two.

We clapped and cheered like we were in Radio City Music Hall. Sing? Dance? We’re good with whatever she wants to do…though I got a little nervous when she unbuttoned her pants. We’ll stick to dancing with clothes on.

We (as in Jon) will try and post some video later. We’re such parents!

Next Stop, Oregon

2006-12-09T11:56:00.000-08:00

We’re on the move again! Jon has just accepted a job with an animation company in Portland so we’re leaving sunny L.A. in January and heading up to Oregon after the holidays. I’ve never been to Portland before, but so many people have told us the area is beautiful with the rivers and mountains and coast. And it was named the best biking city in the U.S. last year.

Jon's really excited about this job, and it's a permanent position so hopefully we'll be able to stay for more than 6-9 months. And maybe even buy a house! Of course, I won't know what to do with myself if I'm not packing or unpacking boxes. Maybe I can work on my book. Or take a long bike ride with the girls...