Archive by Author

My Name Is: DiVoran

18 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

For most of my life, I’ve been explaining how I got my name. This is how it happened: My mother, Dora, and my father, Ivan, lived in Lovelock, Nevada where Daddy worked as a meat cutter for Safeway, and Mother worked at a laundry mostly patronized by miners.

 

 

 

One morning toward the end of her pregnancy she got up with so much energy, she thought she’d clean the coal-burning cook stove in the kitchen before she went to work.

While she cleaned she was thinking about her friend Walkama, who worked there too. Walkama had had a baby earlier. Her labor started while she was at work. I don’t know how her husband knew to come and get her, but he took her home, then she had the baby. Maybe some of the tribe’s women were with her, and in the same day, her husband brought her back. Dora had never heard of anything like that, and she knew she was going to have a very different experience with her child’s birth.

About the time Dora was ready to put the stove back together, her labor started. Ivan came home for lunch and walked Dora to the hospital a short distance away. Her labor commenced in earnest and by 4:00 P. M. I had arrived. She always said, “Just in time for tea.”

In those days white women were held at the hospital for two weeks to recuperate from the ordeal of having a baby. Given Dora’s enjoyment of work of all kinds, she had a long and probably boring time there. One startling thing happened though: on Halloween night three days after I was born, the radio program, “The War of the Worlds,” scared people half to death all over America.

The radio program was presented as a newscast about something that was happening right then. People all over America were scared out of their wits, including Dora. It was one of my birth stories.

The War of the Worlds https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xs0K4ApWl4g

The story about my name went like this: toward the end of the two weeks, the nurse came into our room and told Mother and Daddy that they had to name me or they couldn’t have a birth certificate nor could Mother and baby go home. Now,this is what I think had happened. Daddy really wanted that boy and they must have had boy names picked out, but no names for girls. When the nurse saw that they were flummoxed, she suggested they put their two names together. They worked on it on a scrap of paper and finally came up with DiVoran, with two capitals, one from each of their names.

 

 

We left the hospital the day the birth certificate was issued. When we got home, Daddy had the stove all put together clean and shiny. The next day, Mother took me to work in a light-weight baby cot and Walkama, perhaps, carried her baby in a cradle-board on her back as they worked.

I was surprised and pleased to learn in later years that I was born on the Lovelock Paiute Indian Reservation where the town was located.

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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What Did You Say?

11 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Bill and I kept up with a lot of changes in American English for most of our lives, but now we feel we may be slipping behind. Sometimes younger people look at us as if they have no clue what we’re talking about.

When we were in Colorado a few years ago with our grown children our daughter asked why everyone was saying Back East when referring to the whole East Coast of the U. S. I gave that some thought and remembered hearing Out West once we had moved to Florida. Bill and I have lived on both coasts so we have a mixture of ways to say things. We try to stick with the jargon of the place where we live. It would be hard to go Out West again and be understood because we’ve been Back East for 52 years.

I told my daughter that BackEast was where almost everyone came from in the olden days. Ranchers and sheepherders, gold prospectors, and movie stars migrated west and so Back East was looked upon as a sort of original home.

My mother would say a few words and then warn me not to use them because they’d betray my common background. At night when we went to sleep she said, “Goodnight, sleep tight, don’t let the bed-bugs bite.”  I thought that was a funny poem but when I said it once she told me it wasn’t really a nice thing to say. Another word she didn’t want me to use was: do’less. To me, that is a perfect word. It means you don’t feel like doing any work or patching of clothes which was thought of as rest.

 

 

Speaking of work, over the years I read a lot of British fiction and watched Masterpiece Theater offerings. I’ve been putting two and two together about my ancestors and got to thinking my ancestors were indeed just common down to earth folks. I know they were farmers and store-keepers, janitors, and embroiderers. My own closest grandmother was a hair-dresser with a bedroom that had a separate entrance. That was her beauty shop. She and Granddaddy bought a Victorian house and made it into an apartment house with the family living downstairs. Granddad was a guard at the Colorado State Penitentiary, a very dear man. When I went to visit I got to know all the boarders, one of which was an older deaf woman. She would give me sign-language lessons when I went up to see her.

 

 

 

 

I was a bit of a pill, but Grandmother really did love me. The hand on my arm, however,isn’t affection it is restraint.

 

 

During World War II, Mother, my brother and I lived in the biggest of the three apartments while dad was in the infantry in Europe. Thank the Lord he did come back and nothing was hurt except his night-dreams which would wake him up screaming.

 

 

My other grandmother was widowed by then. She and her sister worked at the Brown Hotel in Denver as chambermaids and lived on the top floor in a small room. She died when I was seven and my mother cried for a week.

 

 

This is my mother’s dad, her Aunt Vera, my mother at 4, her mother and Grandma Hunter, the matriarch of the family. I love this picture.

 

Our mother and father at Grandmother’s house.

Over the years watching all those British dramas I came to imagine that some of my grandmothers, were maids in the big houses. Perhaps the men were stable men and gardeners.

 

 

Notice the shovel my great-grandfather had. He must have been a funny man. Our grandfather is the fifth from the left. To me,he resembles Prince Charles.

In imagination, when I see a young woman on screen walking across the hills to become a scullery maid and to have her bed in the turrets of the house while working up to parlor maid I am glad I don’t have to do any of that. Back East or out West or over the seas, I am who I am and I enjoy my background make-believe immensely.

 

 

 

We enjoy talking with folks our own age because they understand our meaning. The younger people in the family are lots of fun too. They understand our hearts. Whatever people say, one of the very best things in the world is having a family. Thank you, Lord for family then and now.

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Tattered Quilt

4 Feb

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

In the emergency waiting room
The black girl huddled in her quilt
As I have huddled in my guilt
The fabric thin and patched
Here a check, there a fan pattern
Stitched long ago from rags.

 

In my soul
Guilt and faith collided
And I knew that God
Shredded each prayer
Given in a hodgepodge way
And wove it into a garment of praise
For the spirit of heaviness.

Romans 8:26  In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness.

We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.

 

 

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Side by Side

28 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

“Oh we ain’t got a barrel of money, maybe we’re ragged and funny,

but we travel the road sharing the load, side by side.”*

 

Bill and I have been married sixty-two years. Of course,we’ve had bad times, mad times, and glad times. But we are in the happiest part of our lives still traveling the road and sharing our load.

The road, however, is a bit rocky while we wait for Bill to get his shoulder replacement surgery. When he gets it, it will be the best shoulder replacement the world has ever known, but getting to it is an uphill battle.

The patient has already had four shoulder surgeries, but this is the big one, the titanium one where he’ll be able to put his shirt on himself and take out the trash as he used to do. Meanwhile, Bill has been in a great deal of pain and been unable to sleep.

I asked him not to do that scary pain-breathing sound that makes my blood pressure go up. He tried, but one night he was so stalled that we were both awake for hours. Finally, around 3 a. m. we had some cookies and herb tea and were able to go back to sleep. The next day we made a trip to the emergency room at Advent in Orlando 35 miles away because the hospital here isn’t aware of Bill’s issues. The whole trip took seven hours, but at the end of it, we had our dope and Bill’s pain had decreased. That lasted for about a week, but then we got close to running out and made the Big City drive again. The third time we went we had an appointment with the doctor and for a number of excellent reasons he refused to give us any more oxycodone or Percocet. Suddenly we were desperate.

The only thing the doctor could recommend was a pain clinic. We asked our rehab guy (from last year’s surgery) to recommend one in town but he couldn’t. We might have gone to another town, but when I talked to a friend (who works in the medical field) she told me about an operating room nurse we know who could die if she takes opioids. As it happens the nurse came to a place where she needed an operation on her shoulder. Finally, she found a way to use essential oils to make a “Morphine Bomb.” No opiates and no side effects. We called her, and she helped us make this amazing natural pain reliever. Now, all we have to do is wait a week or so for the surgery.

We are ready, but the doctor has a ways to go. He is a world-famous inventor of parts for joints. We did all the tests except the last one which has to wait. We were not afraid of the surgery but looking forward to the ownership of a brand new shoulder. We have, however, waited for one month already and have another month to go. The reason forthe hold-up is reasonable. I wish I could explain it better, but first,the doctor needs the best CT scan available. He has one now. He will make a 3-D model and if all is perfect he’ll get the parts put together. If it is not perfect we could wait another four weeks for a CT scan and the building of a custom implant.

At least Bill can drive now that he’s off the dope. We got a hospital bed in order to relieve the pressure on his shoulders (the other one hurts too).

So here we are side by side not only in waiting and pain, not only for surgery and rehab…but forever. The Bible says there is no marriage in heaven, but somehow I know that when we get there we will experience more love and oneness with others and in Christ than we can imagine our Christian spouses among them.

 

It’s better to have a partner than go it alone.
Share the work, share the wealth.
And if one falls down, the other helps,
But if there’s no one to help, tough!

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 Msg.

 

 

*“Side by Side,” Dean Martin and Jerry Lewis

 

 

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist
DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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God Keeps His Promises

21 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today was our first day at school for Good News Club.

We had eighteen children.

The smallest one was a little boy about three feet tall

With big brown eyes.

Another was as tall as me and

Quite the knowledgeable gentleman.

He and a girl at his table already knew

Good things about Jesus.

I felt like a child myself listening to

The stories and games.

Today we had a large screen with

Bright and beautiful pictures

Of the story of the birth of Jesus.

I caught my breath when I saw

Gabriele and the

Startled look on Mary’s face

Such a shock that she, a virgin

Would bear God’s child.

I felt Josef’s brief sadness that

The baby would not be his,

But God persuaded him to accept

The Son and look after Him.

The children sat immersed in the

Story-teller’s words and expressions.

The Messiah had been promised.

Thousands of years passed.

The Messiah came.

The promised Savior to

Save us from our sins.

God always keeps his promises.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We sang and danced to sign-language gestures.

Meanwhile,someone worked in the background

Making sure the children who were supposed to be there were there.

The room was full…looks like we might need a bigger one.

God always keeps his promises.

 

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Divine Encounter 2

14 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

In Publix, I saw a woman with a little dog in a sling strapped to her chest. It was a long-hairedwiener dog with dangling ears full of natural wave. She wore a dog-sized visor and her legs hung from the sling. The dog’s name was Alice. Her eyes looked blank as though she was ignoring the noise and clamor around her. I’d seen that expression before and understood why it was there. I then noticed a SERVICE DOG badge attached to her vest. After admiring her, I asked what kind of service dog she was.

Her owner said, “I got her when she was six months old, named her Alice. One night after she’d been with me about a year, she started yapping and pushing at me to wake me. I said, ‘lie down, be quiet, go away,’ I wanted to sleep, but she kept it up. Feeling groggy, I took a reading on my glucose monitor. It read over 300, but after an injection, I used the monitor again and the reading was fine. When I told my doctor what Alice had done, he insisted that with that special talent Alice should be certified as my service dog. He wrote the letter himself and now she goes everywhere with me and wakes me if the blood sugar needs some help.”

I found out that many people stopped Alice and her owner in stores, and I recalled another famous dog that would not respond to strangers. We met him at an event at the Space Center. He was one of the dogs who played Lassie in the movies and on TV. Yes, male and female dogs played the part. Apparently,famous dogs just have to protect themselves from over-stimulation in order to do their jobs.

 

 

On New Year’s Day, 2019 Bill and I were in the hardware/lumber store. I walked around while Bill shopped.

This gentleman looked kind of sad and quite bored, so to cheer him a bit I said, “I like your hat.

“It came over from Christmas he said. His voice reminded me of Louis Armstrong’s.

“Do you sing?” I asked, on impulse.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“You’re wearing a jazz hat. Will you sing for me?’

“I will,” he said. Everyone else was busy in other parts of the store. He paused to think through his memory songbook. When started, it was an old sweet song sung so quietly that no one else could hear it. I was happy, but suddenly shy. I kept smiling, however,  knowing that to look away would surely make him feel embarrassed.

“That’s an Etta James song,” he said. “You made my day.” But really he had made mine.

We shook hands, and I said, “thank you,” and walked away as if nothing had happened. ”

I hope this whole year is like that. I’m not one for surprises, but I do dig divine encounters.

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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Divine Encounters

7 Jan

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

You just never know what might happen when you go out of the house.

 

 

This one day, I was up about two blocks walking in the neighborhood and I took a short-cut around the block. I had to walk past a UPS truck and because I say hello to everyone I meet on my walks I said it to the young man who was going up to the door with a package. Then the man standing inside the truck said, “Hi,” and I looked up at him and said hello. He said, “What are they telling you?”

Immediately, I thought about the life of a UPS man, especially in the Christmas/New Year’s holiday time, and this man’s probable life flashed into my brain and I jokingly said, “You work too hard, you don’t get enough sleep, and you don’t eat right.” Folks, I think that’s how fortune tellers do it. They see you, they’ve studied people, they guess. The young man turned slightly away and stood seemingly stunned for a couple of seconds. Looking at me then he said, “You really got me.”

“Well, Happy New Year.” I went on my way. It seems the older I get the more impulsive I am. Gotta watch that.

The next day I was in Publix and enjoying the many shoppers and the near buggy crashes. I started down an aisle and noticed a grandmother trying to read labels with a boy about five years old tugging on her hand. I realized it was my friend the preacher’s wife from my one time favorite church. She and her husband were now retired and helping to look after the grandchildren while still spreading their particular way of loving people in other churches and all around.

“Oh, hi,” I walked over to her and she reached out to hug me and the little fellow came right in and joined in the hug by putting his arms around our legs He never saw me before in his life. Half a century ago, our son stayed with these people while we went to a conference. When we got back he didn’t want to leave their house and come home with us. Love spreads, that’s all I have to say about that.

 

 
Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

Thea Tells All

31 Dec

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

 

Purrow. It’s been a while since I wrote you.
I’m lying on Ma’s bed. (She lets me call her ma now)
And taking a rest from having company.
While I chat.

 

Lacey and Jacob and their Ma and Pa came over today
I had met the Pa, but not the Ma or the kittens.
They are really big kittens, but they play well
And are gentle.

 

Ma and Pa showed them my art work.
Every day, I bite cardboard off a me-sized
Cardboard box. I spit the pieces on the floor.
Ma admires the sculpture and cleans up later.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She hides treats in the folds of my soft red blanket.
After I eat them all, I knead the blanket
Ma sits on a stool to pet me
If I move away she pulls me close

 

Me and Ma play a mouse catching game.
We’ have a great mouse. It dances and flies.
So I dance and fly, too
Life is good. Happy New Year.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your cat friend,
Thea

 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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The Christmas Village

24 Dec

A Slice of Life

DiVoran Lites

 

 

 Every Christmas for years we set up a miniature village with lights shining from its windows. The buildings remind me of the seven years we lived in Westcliffe, Colorado a tiny town in the Wet Mountain Valley at the foot of the Sangre de Cristo mountain range.

The church in the set puts me in mind of the Lutheran Church established by German settlers in the 1800 hundreds.

 

 

The school was built in 1886. Now the historical society has turned it into a museum. Looking back I recall the pot-bellied stove that had to be fired up every school day from September to May when school let out. This was before consolidation so that only the children from town went there. We had first through sixth grade in the big room and seventh and eighth in an add-on at the back. Clinging to the bricks and shuffling to the end of the wall was a prime recess occupation along with swings and a merry-go-round. We also made up chase games we called cowboys and Indians. For a reward in school,we got to pull the bell rope so that the sound rang out over the whole valley.

I met my best friend Joan Piquette at school. She was a fine speller (it runs in her family), and the only child in the first grade. She sat in the first-grade row alone, but Mrs. Canda promoted her because Joanie already knew the first-grade work by osmosis. She seemed so small that in high winds my neighbor, Jeanine, and I held Joanie’s hands on the way home from school so she wouldn’t blow away.

 

 

From the box, I pull a ceramic train-station and small train and place it on the batting. We moved to Westcliffe to take over Min’s cafe, but after we lived there a while we also bought the old depot and turned it into a hotel/boarding house. We called it the White Cloud Motel. We moved into the upstairs but found the entire house yielded surprises: a large baggage room and a small cellar where you could breathe the scent of the earthen walls. In a first floor room, I found a hidden cash drawer. No cash. Off the kitchen, in the small bathroom ,my brother and I could climb out the window and slide down the metal roof. We’d climb back up and slide again to our heart’s content. Our parents were running the restaurant, so we had a great deal of freedom.

 

There was no crime in Westcliffe. This is my aunt and me in the remains of the old jail.

The mill in my lighted village puts me in mind of the Westcliffe Feed Store. What a looming mysterious place that was, a relic from days gone by. We weren’t allowed to go in it because of dangerous equipment, but we could peek through the dusty panes and wonder about the settlers who built it.

 

 

Our Christmas village contains two children riding a horse. My brother, David, is a natural-born horseman, but every time my bottom hit the saddle our oversized Shetland pony, Yankee, ran away to the corral. Dad advised me to hold the reins close to his neck with one hand. “That’s the way to show him who’s boss,” said Dad.

In the Christmas scene, children balance a snowman on a sled, reminding me of the one Dad bought and painted red. We sledded on every hill and ice-skated on a big pond outside of town. We built snowmen and on the way home from school some of us Westcliff kids soaked each other with snowballs.

One of the ceramic decorations is a small bridge which spans an imaginary stream. That becomes Grape Creek where Joanie and I stood and threw in the shells of the sunflower-seed we enjoyed, and watched them float on the current like tiny boats.

I never saw a real angel, but I placed one in the display because I like to think a guardian angel hovered over all of us. How else could I explain not falling off the roof when we slid down it, not falling off Yankee when he ran away, Dad and his friend Sweak Jeske walking down Pike’s Peak after Dad’s beloved Piper Cub crashed in a down-draft. And earlier Dad coming back from the Battle of the Bulge.

One day, when I was about eleven, I was reading Mother’s bible in my second story room, and looking up at the mountains through the window I came to this verse: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21. I made a decision then and there that I would seek treasures in heaven instead of earthly riches.

Bill and I pray that the child in you may find wonder and enjoyment in the coming year. We pray you will have peace from the Forgiver whose birthday we celebrate. We thank God for the angels that watch over us all. Merry Christmas and a joy-filled New Year.

 

 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

17 Dec

My Take
DiVoran Lites

 

 

 

We hardly ever have snow here in Florida,

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But we do have mistletoe growing wild in our woods.

We don’t ski here, except for water-skiing on nice days.

We do have lots of citizens wearing themselves out

Decorating, cooking, visiting, shopping in stores and online.

Trying to “get ready.”

 

I wonder what your favorite thing is about Christmas.

Is it the music, the decorations, the food, or

Perhaps the get-togethers and visits?

We have a small family and of course the

Best earthly treasure is our time together.

I like the music next.

I put a Christmas station on Pandora and

Play it all day, every day until Bill is ready to hear

Something else.

 

No matter how we feel about the holiday itself,

We can never forget the young pregnant woman

Who bore the son of God

And dear Joseph the carpenter who helped

Rear Him.

But most of all,

Christ came to earth and spent his life

Reaching out and he spent his death atoning for sin.

We are charged to invite the Holy Spirit to bless others

Through us,so they may know Him and His Father.

We are invited to receive healing for our bodies

Our emotions, and our souls

Good cheer is available all year round

When each day includes relationship

With Jesus-Redeemer.

 

Author, Poet and Artist

DiVoran has been writing for most of her life. Her first attempt at a story was when she was seven years old and her mother got a new typewriter. DiVoran got to use it and when her dad saw her writing he asked what she was writing about. DiVoran answered that she was writing the story of her life. Her dad’s only comment was, “Well, it’s going to be a very short story.” After most of a lifetime of writing and helping other writers, DiVoran finally launched her own dream which was to write a novel of her own. She now has her Florida Springs trilogy and her novel, a Christian Western Romance, Go West available on Amazon. When speaking about her road to publication, she gives thanks to the Lord for all the people who helped her grow and learn.  She says, “I could never have done it by myself, but when I got going everything fell beautifully into place, and I was glad I had started on my dream.”

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