Tag Archives: Christianity

Match the Mother/Daughter Game

7 May

On the Porch

Onisha Ellis

Onisha

We wanted to do something special for Mother’s Day this year. With five bloggers we each have different thoughts so I decided we would do a “collage” blog post. Each of us contributing in our own way, some as a memory, others a poem. As for me, I am a last-minute blogger so I have no clue. We are also planning a Match the Mother/Daughter game. Those who get them all correct will be put into a drawing for a FREE  digital copy of one of Rebekah Lyn’s Amazon best-selling books. I think I may be able to persuade DiVoran to donate one too.

See you on Sunday!

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A Handwritten Note

6 May

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melody Hendrix

Photo by Melody Hendrix

When I was younger, I decided not to fall into the trap so many older people live in, with several dates a month marked for the purpose of going to the doctor. However, you know what Robert Burns said, “The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay.” Last week I visited three doctors with a member of the family in two days and this week, for various reasons I will have been in waiting rooms every day except Monday and Wednesday (twice on Thursday).

I get tired of passive things like reading, listening to audio stories, watching TV. (I never do that anyway), but I don’t knit or crochet, so I’m coming up with a new plan. I will take a small packet of paper; pens, maybe watercolor crayons and either write notes or draw a bit.

Emails are a big thing now, but writing notes and letters on paper has been part of my life since I was a child and I still get the urge to do it when I’m waiting. Mother and I wrote to each other every week. I still have all her letters and she kept mine up to her last days. When I was twelve and moved away, my best friend and I wrote each other every day. Recently, we wrote our schooldays memoirs together, but that was by computer. Out of habit, I hurry to the mailbox every day expecting something, but usually it contains only commercial mail, so I take that in, sort it out, and throw most of it away.

On my last run to the SPCA store, I got a thin book that reminds me of Alexander Stoddard’s beautiful, Gift of a Letter. It’s called, The Art of the Handwritten Note, this one by Margaret Shepherd.

Realizing how happy it made me to read another book about the subject, I realized I missed writing and receiving handwritten notes more than I knew and decided there was no reason not to take it up again.

Ms. Shepherd says, “Writing by hand makes you look good on paper and feel good inside. Even an ordinary handwritten note is better than the best email, and a good handwritten note on the right occasion is a work of art.”

One thing I’ve always loved about notes is that you can save them and re-read them. I know you can do that with emails, and I do have a file, but for some reason, once they’re out of sight, I never take the time to look at them.

“Art Has Always Survived Technology,” says Margaret Shepherd. I agree. It takes about a minute to write a note, so I’ve put a small pad of paper in my purse and some cards in the door pocket of my car. Last Tuesday I wrote a note to my son, (who, because he lives in another town, always sends a handwritten note on birthdays and mother’s days) and one to our pastor’s wife who did my family a big favor. She is also a card-sender and note writer, so it was a pleasure.

Don’t get me wrong I like to get emails, and I enjoy writing them. It isn’t one or the other, for me, but both. It’s something I’ve missed for many years. Are you missing it too?

Handwritten note copy

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Our Trip to Italy~Part 9

1 May

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites  

Bill

                                                                 

On Wednesday, DiVoran and I walked into Mogliano Veneto so she could see the small part of the town we were staying in close up, and pick up some fresh fruit for our train trip to Rome the next day.  We had a lovely time visiting the many shops and the open-air town market.  We stayed around the apartment most of the rest of the day, visiting the furniture shop down stairs, packing our suitcases and resting.  After work, Marcia took us to Mestre, which is located on the mainland across the Lagoon from Venice to show us the many sights of that interesting city.

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According to legends, Mestre was founded by Mesthles, a companion of the mythical hero Antenor, a fugitive from Troy who founded Padua. The true origins of the city are uncertain, although it is known that a Roman fortress that existed there was destroyed by Attila the Hun sometime in the 5th century, and rebuilt later around the 10th century.  In 1152, a papal bull by Pope Eugene III recognized the Bishop of Treviso as lord of Mestre, citing the existence of the church of St. Lawrence.

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The city had many lovely stores and shops, but since we were expected to meet  Marcia’s friend Erkia for dinner, we restricted our site-seeing visit the Clock Tower in Piazza Ferretto, and the 17th century Cathedral of St. Lawrence.

3  In a country that is widely known for its vast number of breathtaking and awe-inspiring cathedrals, this is one of the most beautiful in northern Italy.

After all that walking around Mestre, we were ready for some good Italian food, and Marcia took us to the Da Roberta’s Ristorante, which was one of her favorites.  She was right, the food was outstanding, and our last visit with Marcia and Erkia was memorable.

The next morning, after breakfast, Marcia and Erika took us to the train station and it was “arrivederci” to our truly grand friends for a wonderful guided tour to some of northern Italy’s most beautiful cities.  It was hard to believe our visit to Italy was almost over.  Our 1st class train trip to Rome took us 5 hours.  Lunch on the train was nothing special, but a new and different experience.  We had stops at Padua, Bologna and Florence before arriving at the Italian capital.

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After leaving Florence, our route took us through some of the most beautiful countryside with castles, ancient arched bridges and through at least 30 tunnels (the longest being 23km). 5 Here again, the train trip gave us time to study up on the location of our lodgings and some of the points of interest we planned to visit in Rome.

At the train station information booth, it was suggested that we NOT take the inexpensive 30-minute bus ride to the Vatican area, as the buses were always very crowded and a favorite haunt of the local pickpockets.  So, we took a 10-minute “life changing” taxi ride through the city to the doorstep of the German-Italian convent where we had reservations7

The accommodations at the Suore Missionarie Pallottine convent were very clean, sparse and quiet.  After a brief rest, we headed out to see some of the sights within walking distance.   It was UP a steep hill and DOWN a steep street from the convent to get to the main avenue where we enjoyed some window shopping, and roast chicken at the Pinelli Pizzaria-Toyola Calda.  By the time we made it back to the convent, we were ready for a shower and some sack time.

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—–To Be Continued—–

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Announcing…..Living Spring

29 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

My neighbor came over yesterday to return something. Since I was about to get in the car, we stood in the driveway for a minute to talk. She had finished reading my newest book in the Florida Springs Trilogy, Living Spring wanted to tell me how much she liked it. She said what she said when she read the first book, Sacred Spring. “Living Spring is a wonderful book, it kept my interest the whole way through, when is the next one coming out?” This is a smart and successful person and not one who is inclined to flatter or gush. I was pleased with her report.. Truly all my readers are intelligent and discerning. I’m so glad they like my novels.

I’ll tell you a teensy secret, though perhaps I shouldn’t…I was a tad worried about my new baby, Living Spring. Even though I love the characters, the setting, and the plot, I wasn’t quite ready to turn loose of it for publication.

When I told Onisha what I’ve told you, she said, “Your niggling feeling about turning loose of it may mean, Living Spring is one of your best books.” Now, I understand that it was because I would miss working on Living Spring that I didn’t want to let go of it. Now, I’m on to Clear Spring, the third book in the trilogy, so all is well.

When Bill, Billy (our son) and I were having lunch at Tibby’s New Orleans style restaurant in Winter Park, I told our son about my doubts and how they have been overcome by good reports. He who is the father of two perfect (to me) college age kids, said, “Is Living Spring better than Sacred Spring?”

My answer was: “I don’t really want to know or think about that.”

”Why?” says he. Why has been his favorite word since he learned to talk. He’s a biologist now and since he has the inside scoop on nature, he is my chief source for questions about plants, animals, land, and water. We have a lot of lovely scenes and encounters in our Florida Spring trilogy, along with real love stories and a bit of suspense.

How do I explain to our inquisitive son that I don’t want to compare the two books? Aha, I ask him this: “Is your daughter better than your son or your son better than your daughter?”

“I see what you mean,” says he. “But it’s not the same thing, your books aren’t your children.”

“Oh, yes they are,” his father and I say in unison. “Or anyway they’re the next best thing.”

What do you, blog reader and friend have to say about all this? I hope you’ll say with the neighbor, “It was wonderful, it held my interest all the way through, when is the next one coming out?” I can’t ask for more than that.

Sacred Spring is available exclusively from Amazon right now, for Kindle or in paperback, but that will soon change and you’ll be able to get it, as you now can now get, Living Spring, from Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Smashwords. In case you don’t know what Smashwords is, it’s an eReader service that can sell you the books in any format to fit any eReader or device.

Please buy Sacred Spring, and Living Spring in whichever format you prefer and let us know what you think on our blog comments or my Face Book page. We’ll soon have a website up and running, too, for Rebekah Lyn Books, a new Christian publisher who will take the world by storm. Her first book is Summer Storms, and she has two more after that. Look her up, you’ll like her.

In Living Spring, Jean Schaefer, sister of Hank, has suffered from overwhelming anxiety for the past four years due to the death of their parents and an entanglement with her child’s father which ended in a shocking rejection. She contracts for an original settler’s house in the woods near, “Living Spring,” hoping to use the renovation process as therapy. She must now learn to live in new ways and begin to allow people into her life again. As the history of the old house, along with elements of her own past begin to surface, Jean finds herself fighting inner battles she thought she had buried forever.

Living Spring

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My Brain is Twisted Spaghetti

27 Apr

On  the Porch

Onisha Ellis

Onisha

I’m pretty sure I am driving a very dear friend crazy. You see, she made the mistake of offering to help me create a website. To begin with she told me where to purchase a domain and secure a host server. After I had accomplished step one, she patiently led me through choosing a WordPress theme, then loaded it onto the server. Easy, I thought I can do this. Next she told me to begin loading content. Whaaat? How does one load content into a blank website? I am comfortable with a blog. All I have to do is write my thoughts and publish. Content it seems is way more complicated. Without having a clue, I began creating pages and adding links. My confidence began to build then she asked me to provide pictures in a custom size for the slider. I think she mentioned other pictures too but my mind totally blanked out.  So did my friend. Her last email stated she would be hiding, I mean relaxing in the woods without Internet or phone for the whole weekend. Did I mention she lives up North?

So, I am reaching out to our blog readers with questions. Why do they call widgets, widgets? Why aren’t widgets more specific? I need one that says “want a badge, paste it here.” Why won’t my categories parent? How do I remove the book covers on the right side of my landing page? How do I get those nice Amazon buttons and how do I become an Amazon affiliate and do I paste that somewhere?

I have been reading a great deal about content for websites and they all agree a website needs a great call to action so I am practicing on our readers. Here’s my call to action- anyone want to be my website tutor?

 

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Window Wonders

26 Apr

From the Heart

Louise Gibson

                                              My kitchen has always been a busy place
                                              that occupies my days.
                                              It welcomes family and friends alike
                                              And serves in many ways.
                                              It has a picture window
                                              where I often stand to view
                                              the fascinations of nature
                                              while cooking, perhaps, a stew.
                                              I wonder why the Blue Jay
                                              defies the danger of its play,
                                              as he swoops down on the patio
                                               to the cat’s bowl everyday.
                                              I put bird seed in the feeder
                                              so safe up in the tree,
                                              Why he prefers the cat food
                                              is a mystery to me.
                                              And the scrawny little Hibiscus tree
                                              was an epic in the making-
                                               Oft filled with buds that never bloomed
                                              My attention I was forsaking.
                                              As I poured my morning coffee one day,
                                              I glanced, as I always do
                                              to see what nature had in store for me,
                                              my senses to renew.
                                              “Oh, Lord, I can’t believe my eyes.
                                               Is that really a flower I see?
                                               What glorious color, and, oh so proud
                                               is that small Hibiscus tree.
                                               Frost warnings came on the news all day-
                                               “Protect your plants” the newscasters say.
                                               So I spread the mulch over the roots of young trees,
                                                praying, “Keep them all safe, dear Lord, please”.
                                                As I approached the small Hibiscus tree reality set in.
                                                It”s leaves were dry and curled up,
                                                much to my chagrin.
                                                The tree was supported by a tall green stick,
                                                tied with a plastic band
                                                As I reached to straighten the little tree
                                                it broke off in my hand.
                                                The beautiful flower was its Swan Song
                                                It must have known its fate.
                                                It rewarded my window wonder
                                                before it was too late.

 

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Our Trip to Italy~Part 8

24 Apr

A Slice of Life

Bill Lites

Bill

 The train trip back to Mogliano Veneto that afternoon was uneventful, and gave us a chance to read up on all the Renaissance art and history surrounding much of we had seen that day.  A very kind older Italian man insisted on sharing his cookies with the “American Tourists” when he discovered we had just been to visit his beloved Florence.

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During an early breakfast the next morning, Erika was trying to help Marcia with some of her Italian, and we heard Erika say, “Marcia, please don’t tell anyone I am your Italian teacher.” We all laughed, because we had just learned from Erika the translation for poached eggs is, “Eggs with a shirt,” and the translation for raisins is, “After they are grapes.”   It’s funny how some words differ from one language to the next.  Marcia and Erika went to work, while DiVoran and I stayed around the apartment, enjoying a day of rest and planning our next day’s visit to Venice.

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After work, Marcia took us to one of her favorite restaurants, the Ai Portici Ristorante there in Mogliano Veneto, for another wonderful Italian meal.  Marcia had told us the trip to Venice would probably be a long day, because we planned to include visits to the islands of Murano, where much of the famous hand blown Italian glass is made, and colorful Burano, which is famous for its beautiful handmade lace.

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The next morning Marcia dropped us off in Venice on her way to work.  We strolled along the Grand Canal for a while, window-shopping, then decided to revisit the Saint Mark’s Basilica and take in its opulent gilded Byzantine and Gothic design with its spectacular mosaics.  A Museum, which is a part of the Basilica, located between the historic area on the Basilica’s vestibule and the former Doge’s Sala dei Banchetti (Banquet Hall), contains many Persian carpets, liturgical vestments, illuminated manuscripts with some of the texts of St. Mark liturgies.  There are also tapestries in wool, depicting episodes from the Passion of Christ, with others in silk and silver illustrating some of the many stories of St. Mark.

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And there, wouldn’t you know, as we entered upon the piazza, was a couple having their wedding pictures taken in front of St. Mark’s Basilica.  Amazingly, DiVoran and I seem to visit churches, wherever we go, just as a wedding is over and we get to see the new couple emerge for pictures.  It has happened in Mexico, England, Scotland, Orlando Florida, Rome and now Venice, Italy, and it’s always a beautiful sight and a thrill for us!

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During our brief tour around Venice, we came across a group of street vendors at small kiosks selling just about anything you could imagine.  DiVoran bought me a fedora to keep my head warm, and we bought a couple of festive hats for Billy & Renie.  Luckily, we were able to find our way through the maze of small canals, and narrow streets, to the lunch ristorante Marcia had recommended, down a narrow walkway, had some really great pizza, hot lemon tea and a rest.

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After lunch, we took a waterbus to the island of Murano to check out the hand blown glass.  It was amazing to enter these beautiful showrooms of fine glasswork, and then walk through a door into a small shop where people of all ages were creating these fabulous works of art before our very eyes.  Just to get a feel for the cost of some of these items, we asked about the price of one of the smaller items ($400 US) and later during our tour, a larger item ($1500 US).  I could not even imagine what some of the large chandeliers would have cost.  We were told a  person could even request special order items, and if the item was small enough, you could watch them create the item while you waited.

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Then it was on by water bus to the island of Burano to see about the famous handmade lace creations we had heard so much about.  The first thing that gets your attention as you approach Burano is the brightly painted houses.  They stand out and are reflected on the calm water of the adjacent canals.  Even their personal boats, tied up in the canal, are painted bright colors, and many match the color of the houses their owners live in.

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Inside, the women sit with bolsters on their laps, creating some of the most beautiful and delicate lace work we had ever seen.   DiVoran bought a beautiful “thread-drawn” tablecloth and napkin set, which we still have and enjoy to this day.  What a great way to remember some of the fabulous times we had exploring the places and visiting with some of the people of Italy.

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—–To Be Continued—–

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Welcome to Christian Author Interviews

23 Apr

Welcome to Christian Author Interviews. Enjoy our interview with Richard Blackaby in this episode. Listen in via the video or audio and share your thoughts in the comments. Don’t forget to enter the giveaway below and share this interview with your friends!

Listen to the audio here:


MP3 File

About Richard Blackaby

Dr. Richard Blackaby is the president of Blackaby Ministries International where he works with his father Henry and brother Tom. He is an author and a popular international speaker. Richard is married to Lisa and they have three amazing children: Mike, Daniel, and Carrie. Richard has a Ph.D. in history. He loves reading biographies and hockey. He works with leaders in the home, church, and business community, helping them develop their leadership to higher levels. Richard also co-authored the revision of “Experiencing God” and speaks often in churches and to Christian organizations.

Follow Richard Blackaby
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Enter to Win An Autographed Copy of “Unlimiting God” by Richard Blackaby!

Enter below to enter the giveaway below:

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Christian Author Interviews is hosted by Shelley Hitz of Crossreads and Body and Soul Publishing.

We would like to send out a special THANK YOU to all of the CrossReads bloggers!

 

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The Long, Smooth Highway

22 Apr

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

Photo by Melodie Hendrix

 

One Sunday on the way to church, Bill asked if I had any aspirin. No, but here’s something else if you have a headache. He took it. He was rather sluggish all day, but headaches will do that to you. After lunch he said, I can’t wait to lie down. Though he usually takes a nap it wasn’t’ like him to actually say he was tired.

That night or I should say the next morning at 1:41, he woke me and asked me to take him to the hospital. “I think I’m having a heart attack,: he said.” I got out of bed, went to my closet got warm clothes, but not warm enough as it turned out, got my iPod, we got in the car. I was calm, he was calm. We rode down the smooth newly asphalted highway that runs through town in our comfortable old Merc. We talked about how this might not even be a heart-attack so why get our knickers in a knot. Bill walked into the emergency room while I parked the car. He told them he couldn’t get his breath because of the pain and pressure in his chest, so they didn’t make us wait long. They took me in to him after he got his backless nightie and a nitroglycerin tablet. They gave us blankets from the warmer and they started hooking him up to a beeping machine, drips, tubes and I don’t know what all. We were both praying with faith that was given by God and not of ourselves. An old friend who works in environmental services came in and sat down and talked to us the whole time of her break. It seems like it was a long time and we were happy to have her there, happy for the distraction.

I was thinking our daughter would go to work the next morning and since we didn’t know what to tell her I didn’t call until 6:00 a. m. As soon as she got up and got dressed she came. She had called our son and he came from another town, but didn’t get there until after we’d been moved to a room. Both of them were there when the doctor came to talk to us. It was New Year’s eve Monday so the doctor scheduled a catheterization for Wednesday. The adult children and their support made a tremendous difference. There was no fear, no panic, we all thought it was a small thing and not life-threatening, at any rate we knew everything was going to be fine.

You can imagine our surprise when we saw the video of the catheterization the minute it and the insertion of two stints was over. He could have died, the doctor said. It’s a good thing you came when you did. (He had been saved by medications, especially heparin which thinned the blood and allowed it to pass through the two damaged vessels. ) We left the hospital on Thursday morning. We hadn’t called anyone else, there was nothing anyone else could do. We knew everything was going to be all right. It was especially good to spend the time with our children. At one time a nurse said, “Is your company going to stay all day.” Which meant go away and let him rest, I guess she didn’t know they were the best medicine he could have in addition to the methods and medicaments given to save his life. It was all like a dream, a dream on a cloud where everything ran smoothly just like the car did on the Long Smooth Highway.

Bill is doing great. He has been to all the cardio classes, done the exercise therapy and taken up his other exercises again. If they hadn’t had stints, they would have had to do by-passes. Oh, we are so thankful he didn’t have to go through that. He’s taking good care of himself and has lost twenty-five pounds. We have nothing but praise and thanksgiving to our Lord and to all the wonderful people who took care of him. We’ve seen the veins for ourselves and they are in good shape. We are not worried, should we be? No—it’s not necessary, each day is complete in itself. But I’d say we are all a bit more appreciative of each day we have together and we are hoping for a whole lot more of them, God willin’ and the crick don’t rise.

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BOOTS AND TIPPY

21 Apr

SUNDAY MEMORIES

 Judy Wills

 Judy                                                    

 

 I have always loved animals.  And I had the best of both worlds – we had cats in my house, and my Aunt Jessie and Granny had dogs.  Jessie and Granny lived only about 10 minutes away from our house, so we were over there often, and they were at our house often.  While we didn’t take our cats with us when we visited them, they usually brought the dog(s) with them when they came to visit us.  And the animals got along together surprisingly well.

 Daddy grew up on a farm, one of 13 children, and I suppose there were cats and dogs on that farm, but I’m sure they were “outside” animals.  Consequently, he was rather opposed to our having an inside animal.  But I was just so attached to any stray that I could find – I even remember taking a stray kitten I had found into a church meeting with me!  I think that’s what convinced Mother to convince Daddy to let me get a cat of my own.  Especially since I contracted ring worm from one of the strays I found!

And so, we found ourselves at the home of a church family whose cat had recently had a litter of kittens.  We finally picked one out that we thought would be a good fit for us.  When we got him home, we began the course of naming him.  He was mostly white, with large black spots on him.  But he had black “tips” on the tips of his ears, and so we named him Tippy.

He was a good little cat, and I no longer picked up the strays.  He was not necessarily a full-time indoor cat – he was outside quite a bit.  And so, one day he just didn’t come home.  We were all devastated!  After a few weeks, we went to another house where the cat had recently given birth to a litter, and I was allowed to pick out another kitten.  These kittens were long-haired, and really beautiful.  We picked out one that was part dark tabby on his back and hind quarters, with a large white area in shoulders, chest and paws.  His head and ears were mostly dark, with a white face.  And so, we named him Boots, aka Bootsie.

 

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We really loved that cat.  And Daddy, who was opposed to the whole idea of an inside pet, found that cat in his lap more often than not, and seemed to thoroughly enjoy it!  At least, we found him petting Boots, quite absently.

I don’t remember exactly how long we had Boots when – much to our surprise – Tippy came home!  A bit worse for the wear, but he seemed to want to stay close to home now.  So we went from no cats – to TWO!!  They seemed to get along together quite well, and even romped and chased each other through the house.  As quiet as cats are, they sounded like a herd of elephants sometimes!

 

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And then, one day, we came home to find that Tippy had been hit by a car and killed.  I don’t remember that Boots moped, but that he grew to be just our one and only cat.  He lived to a ripe old age of 13.

 

 

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Mother said that she entered him in a cat show once, but would never do it again.  He won a pretty good prize, but she said that, as she approached his cage and spoke to him, he looked up at her and immediately walked over to his food and water and began eating.  The officials at the show said he had refused to eat or drink before that.  So Mother decided it was just too much to put him through again.

Occasionally, when he was outside, he would stalk birds in the trees in the back yard.  If he caught one, he would wound it, then bring it to the back door of the house and just yowl his head off until one of us came to the door and praise him for being such a good hunter.  Then he would kill and eat the bird.

 

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He also caught the one and only mouse that got into our house.  We really enjoyed him.  We were blessed to have him as long as we did.

 

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