For the past two years (plus a couple of months), since we moved back "home" to my parents' property, I've been in a rest cycle. Resting, recovering, recuperating from wounds, both literal and figurative. It's been a season of transformation, which is always a bit uncomfortable, because you never know exactly how you're going to come out on the other side. It has been a season of examination: internal and external, physical and spiritual.

And now, like someone thrust suddenly out of a long, dark tunnel, I'm blinking and squinting in the light like a newly-emerged mole.

No, really, that's how I feel.

At the end of April I received my first book contract. Squee!!! Since then, I've been working with my editor to polish the story and prepare it for publication. No release date yet, but I'm OK with that. The more editing we do, the better the story gets!

In June/July I celebrated my 44th birthday. And I received an invitation to participate in a novella series with seven other authors that completely WOWED me. I flung myself into research, and wrote a historical novella set in 1921 Colorado Springs. That novella, Sadie's Gift, releases Monday, Sept. 1st on Amazon, and a few days later on Nook.

Also in July, I thought I'd lost the job I'd been waiting for since last November. Two days later, I had the job back. A full-time job that I can do from my house. It doesn't get much better than that! I've never had a full-time paying job before... I homeschooled four children, and served as a pastor's wife, but I didn't get paid for those roles. This is altogether different, and a blessing! It's also a big transition... I'm accountable to a number of other people now in a new way, and my schedule, which has been that of a lady-of-leisure, has to evolve.

Then I received a call (that received word keeps coming up) from my friend and leader at ACFW Colorado, asking me to consider taking over the role of Colorado Area Coordinator for American Christian Fiction Writers. WOW. I prayed, and prayed... feeling neither equipped nor prepared, but God didn't say "no," and it seemed good to the Holy Spirit on the inside. As of Monday, I will take up the coordinator mantle for Colorado's amazing group of writers. What an honor, and a responsibility!

These are things I've been believing for and expecting for years. Decades, even. Why couldn't I have had them happen ten or twenty years ago? Because I wasn't ready. I lacked the confidence, the maturity, the empathy, and the experience to handle them. Even now I feel like a hatchling just emerging from her egg. All of this is new to me, every day is filled with opportunities to seek higher counsel, and it's good!

My point? If you're in that "shelf season," don't fret, be patient, and enjoy the rest. God hasn't forgotten about you!

This time of year everybody wants to pull out their Irish family tree, branch, twig, or leaf to participate in the celebratory spirit of St. Patty's Day. There's green beer and leprechauns and shamrocks. There's the "wearin' o' the green" and green eggs and ham (wait, that's Dr. Seuss, and I don't think he was Irish.)


All my favorite historical romances were set in the British Isles or the Wild West, places where my ancestors roamed. I have a lot of German heritage, too, but I've never seen a romance novel set in Germany, historic or otherwise. Maybe it has something to do with the language. Let's face it, German is just not as pretty as Gaelic. And who doesn't go weak in the knees for a good Irish brogue or Scottish burr?

A poetic bunch, these Irish are. "Irish blessings" abound. More than mere rhyming verses, more than prayers lifted into the heavenlies. These are declarations of faith, decrees of safety and health and well-being spoken over friends and family and loved ones.

To bless is to "speak well of" someone or something. To curse is simply the opposite, to speak evil concerning someone or something.

How easy it is to speak ill or evil of ourselves and of those we love the most. How easy to declare over our children that they are clumsy, foolish, or lazy. Or to curse the creation of our own bodies, or a perceived lack of wisdom or motivation in a spouse. People we wouldn't consider "cussing out" might be the same ones we're "cursing at."

I'm taking a cue from my Irish heritage this week and declaring good will over the people around me, even when they get on my nerves and I'd really like to wallop them upside the head with something much bigger than a shamrock. That's the way to really celebrate St. Patrick's Day, beyond the corned beef and cabbage and making sure I wear something green to avoid getting pinched!