Tuesday, September 25, 2007
THIS IS WHY I WRITE ROMANCE!!!!!!!!!!
I am absolutely ashamed for not having kept up with this blog. So sorry to those of you who check in on it once in a while only to discover NOTHING NEW! One of my reasons for my lack of posting is that I'm very involved over at Shoutlife, and I maintain an active blog there. But if you're not a member there, then you don't reap the benefits of seeing what's happening in my little corner of the world. So, I promise I am going to get better! IF by any chance you do read this blog on occasion, will you let me know by way of a teeny-tiny response to this post, so I'll know if I am reaching anyone out there in blog world? Thanks, dear friends.
Anyway...onto the title of today's post!
I attended the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) convention in Dallas this past weekend. It was incredibly beneficial to me as a writer, but I will admit I missed my hubby. After 32 years of marriage is that pathetic or what? One would think a little separation would do us both good, right? I'm not a total baby. I mean we have spent many a weekend apart over the years for various reasons, but I'm always so happy to see him again.
At any rate, please indulge me as I share a sweet little story with you--and one that will demonstrate to you one of the many reasons why I write romance!
On Saturday, as I was leaving the hotel ballroom after lunch to go up to my room to freshen up for the book-signing event I was to participate in, my phone rang. I searched through my purse and finally laid hold of it. It was my sweet hubby, Cecil. (For those who may be reading this and don't know, we live in Michigan.)
I asked him if he'd played golf that morning. He said he'd decided to play on Friday instead.
I asked him what his plans for the day were, and he said, "Oh, just hanging out."
Then he asked what I was doing. I told him I was heading up to my room to freshen up.
He said, "How come? You look nice already."
I giggled as I hurried toward the elevator and said, "Gee, thanks, sweetie!"
He said, "No, I'm serious. You look pretty in your pink dress."
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down at my pink dress. Huh?
I made a frantic search of the hotel lobby and found my man standing on the other side, phone to his ear, conniving smile on his face.
Now, that, my precious friends (and family), is why I write romance! (grin)
Have a joyous week, and may God bless your socks off.
Love and big hugs,
Shar
P.S. Sarah, My Beloved, second in my series, hits shelves October 3 in case you're wondering.
P.S. again...Tomorrow I will post some pictures of the conference and Cecil and I decked out for the big gala event on Saturday night. Through Every Storm was named a finalist in the general fiction category for Book-of-the Year--but, of course, ir did not win. (TOUGH competition!) I am just humbled into itty-bitty shreds that some kind judges nominated it!!!!
I am absolutely ashamed for not having kept up with this blog. So sorry to those of you who check in on it once in a while only to discover NOTHING NEW! One of my reasons for my lack of posting is that I'm very involved over at Shoutlife, and I maintain an active blog there. But if you're not a member there, then you don't reap the benefits of seeing what's happening in my little corner of the world. So, I promise I am going to get better! IF by any chance you do read this blog on occasion, will you let me know by way of a teeny-tiny response to this post, so I'll know if I am reaching anyone out there in blog world? Thanks, dear friends.
Anyway...onto the title of today's post!
I attended the American Christian Fiction Writers (ACFW) convention in Dallas this past weekend. It was incredibly beneficial to me as a writer, but I will admit I missed my hubby. After 32 years of marriage is that pathetic or what? One would think a little separation would do us both good, right? I'm not a total baby. I mean we have spent many a weekend apart over the years for various reasons, but I'm always so happy to see him again.
At any rate, please indulge me as I share a sweet little story with you--and one that will demonstrate to you one of the many reasons why I write romance!
On Saturday, as I was leaving the hotel ballroom after lunch to go up to my room to freshen up for the book-signing event I was to participate in, my phone rang. I searched through my purse and finally laid hold of it. It was my sweet hubby, Cecil. (For those who may be reading this and don't know, we live in Michigan.)
I asked him if he'd played golf that morning. He said he'd decided to play on Friday instead.
I asked him what his plans for the day were, and he said, "Oh, just hanging out."
Then he asked what I was doing. I told him I was heading up to my room to freshen up.
He said, "How come? You look nice already."
I giggled as I hurried toward the elevator and said, "Gee, thanks, sweetie!"
He said, "No, I'm serious. You look pretty in your pink dress."
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked down at my pink dress. Huh?
I made a frantic search of the hotel lobby and found my man standing on the other side, phone to his ear, conniving smile on his face.
Now, that, my precious friends (and family), is why I write romance! (grin)
Have a joyous week, and may God bless your socks off.
Love and big hugs,
Shar
P.S. Sarah, My Beloved, second in my series, hits shelves October 3 in case you're wondering.
P.S. again...Tomorrow I will post some pictures of the conference and Cecil and I decked out for the big gala event on Saturday night. Through Every Storm was named a finalist in the general fiction category for Book-of-the Year--but, of course, ir did not win. (TOUGH competition!) I am just humbled into itty-bitty shreds that some kind judges nominated it!!!!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
WEEDS, WEEDS, WEEDS...ARGH..
Dear hubby and I planted lots of grass seed a month ago in a particularly big, barren spot on the side yard. Well, I'm thinking the seed was that cheap stuff that had weeds mixed in because far more weeds grew in that spot than grass! Since you can't throw weed killer onto tender new blades of grass, I tackled the problem in my own way; in the heat of the day I went out and started pulling. Some of those nasty weeds were the kind that spread way out, making it difficult to find the root, others were so thick and hearty, making it impossible to grab hold of the whole thing, and those remaining were just so darned deeply rooted and tough that it would've taken Goliath-strength to yank them out. (Those were the ones I saved for hubby.) Lack of sun, water, and too many weeds are the worst enemies, the biggest detriment, to growing tall, thick, healthy grass.Made me think about we Christians--and the newer, baby ones in particular.Our enemy, Satan, is our greatest foe. He reminds us of those deep-rooted sins that once overtook us, prevented us from growing; he tries to convince us they are too hard to eliminate. When the weeds of life squeeze in around us--unrighteous anger, impatience, lack of compassion, gossip, worldly habits and behaviors, dishonesty, and the list goes on--our spiritual growth ceases to exist. Sin does that, chokes the spiritual life right out of us. The only way to extract sin from your life is to acknowledge you have a problem. (In the case of my grass, I looked out the window and saw it plain as day--too many weeds impeded the seeds from taking root. It was time for taking action.) It's the same with sin. In order to take action, you must turn the matter over to the Lord Jesus; give Him complete control. Only He has the "muscle" needed to rid you of those strong, flourishing, ugly sins. It doesn't happen by sitting around and doing nothing. If you want to maintain a healthy Christian life, you must be proactive. I'm not saying "good deeds" will earn you a ticket into Heaven; I'm saying get out of that easy chair and realize your need for God, acknowledge your sin, and then trust Him for His healing, saving strength. We serve a generous, loving, forgiving, grace-filled God. He knows exactly what's required to live a healthy Christian life, free of choking weeds. There are three basic requirements for growing healthy grass: Ensure plenty of sun, water daily, provide fertile, well-fed soil. I suppose one could also say to guarantee a strong, healthy Christian life, do three basic things. Make the Son the center of your life, water your spiritual life with daily periods of prayer, and fertilize that life with the food of God's Holy Word. As my grass starts to regrow and thicken, we'll toss on some weed-killer. Strong grass can withstand the poisonous killer, just as strong Christians can withstand the attacks of the enemy.The important thing is--don't sit around and do nothing. My grass never would have grown had we not squelched the power of the almighty weed.Extinguish the power of the enemy by living your life wholeheartedly and proactively for Christ. Only He has the strength and might to prevent an enemy invasion!
--- Sharlene MacLarenhttp://www.sharlenemaclaren.comsmac@chartermi.net
Dear hubby and I planted lots of grass seed a month ago in a particularly big, barren spot on the side yard. Well, I'm thinking the seed was that cheap stuff that had weeds mixed in because far more weeds grew in that spot than grass! Since you can't throw weed killer onto tender new blades of grass, I tackled the problem in my own way; in the heat of the day I went out and started pulling. Some of those nasty weeds were the kind that spread way out, making it difficult to find the root, others were so thick and hearty, making it impossible to grab hold of the whole thing, and those remaining were just so darned deeply rooted and tough that it would've taken Goliath-strength to yank them out. (Those were the ones I saved for hubby.) Lack of sun, water, and too many weeds are the worst enemies, the biggest detriment, to growing tall, thick, healthy grass.Made me think about we Christians--and the newer, baby ones in particular.Our enemy, Satan, is our greatest foe. He reminds us of those deep-rooted sins that once overtook us, prevented us from growing; he tries to convince us they are too hard to eliminate. When the weeds of life squeeze in around us--unrighteous anger, impatience, lack of compassion, gossip, worldly habits and behaviors, dishonesty, and the list goes on--our spiritual growth ceases to exist. Sin does that, chokes the spiritual life right out of us. The only way to extract sin from your life is to acknowledge you have a problem. (In the case of my grass, I looked out the window and saw it plain as day--too many weeds impeded the seeds from taking root. It was time for taking action.) It's the same with sin. In order to take action, you must turn the matter over to the Lord Jesus; give Him complete control. Only He has the "muscle" needed to rid you of those strong, flourishing, ugly sins. It doesn't happen by sitting around and doing nothing. If you want to maintain a healthy Christian life, you must be proactive. I'm not saying "good deeds" will earn you a ticket into Heaven; I'm saying get out of that easy chair and realize your need for God, acknowledge your sin, and then trust Him for His healing, saving strength. We serve a generous, loving, forgiving, grace-filled God. He knows exactly what's required to live a healthy Christian life, free of choking weeds. There are three basic requirements for growing healthy grass: Ensure plenty of sun, water daily, provide fertile, well-fed soil. I suppose one could also say to guarantee a strong, healthy Christian life, do three basic things. Make the Son the center of your life, water your spiritual life with daily periods of prayer, and fertilize that life with the food of God's Holy Word. As my grass starts to regrow and thicken, we'll toss on some weed-killer. Strong grass can withstand the poisonous killer, just as strong Christians can withstand the attacks of the enemy.The important thing is--don't sit around and do nothing. My grass never would have grown had we not squelched the power of the almighty weed.Extinguish the power of the enemy by living your life wholeheartedly and proactively for Christ. Only He has the strength and might to prevent an enemy invasion!
--- Sharlene MacLarenhttp://www.sharlenemaclaren.comsmac@chartermi.net
Saturday, June 16, 2007
LIKE DIAMONDS ON BLACK VELVET
...Memories of Daddy...
A little girl will go to just about any length to please her daddy. At least I did. As far back as I can remember my father loved to fish. I can’t say I ever inherited his penchant for casting out a line in the wee hours of the morning and staring at still, glistening waters for hours on end, sitting on a narrow boat seat, listening to the groans of bullfrogs, while waiting for the tiniest tug at the end of a pole. But I tagged along anyway for the sake of Daddy’s company. And his company was priceless. The memory of it stands out even now like diamonds on black velvet, clear, shimmery, untainted.
“You wanna go fishing in the mornin’?” Dad would ask just before bedtime.
With only a second’s hesitation, I would answer, “Sure!” The truth was I wasn’t thrilled about waking up before dawn, but if it meant spending precious time with the man I most admired, then my answer never required much forethought.
The soft rap on the door came at precisely five o’clock. “Wake up, sleepy head. Fish are jumpin’.”
Quickly wiping sleep from my eyes, I’d roll out from under thick covers and peek past the sheer curtain to find a full moon, its reflection dancing across still waters, a thin layer of fog hovering over the glassy surface. At the water’s edge, our little wooden rowboat lay in wait—a somewhat unreliable old vessel dubbed Maybe Baby by my brother some years before. Maybe it would stay afloat, maybe not. It had been known to spring the occasional leak.
I’d struggle into the same pair of pants I’d shed the night before, throw on a wrinkled sweatshirt, and step into my dirty sneakers. Then stifling a yawn because I didn’t want my grogginess to show, I’d march into the kitchen with purpose. Daddy rewarded me with one of those crooked grins he was famous for and pointed to the door. “Ready?” he’d ask in a whisper so as not to wake the rest of the household. I’d nod.
And off we’d go.
Ah, those crisp summer mornings when the dewy grass tickled my bare ankles as we trudged silently down the hill, the stillness of early morning interrupted only by the sporadic whimper of slowly waking jays and robins. Oh, the uncomplicated perfection.
With a pail, my father would empty out an inch or two of water from the bottom of Maybe Baby. Rainwater? Or that pesky leak? No matter, nothing would keep us from rowing out to the middle of the lake where the biggest catches swirled about, hungry and restless. Some mornings we would share the middle seat, each taking an oar, rowing in perfect rhythm. Other mornings I’d sit in the front, eyes cast downward, mesmerized by the tiny wake created by the boat’s steady course and the tireless squeak of one rusty oar socket.
“How’s this?” he would ask, dropping anchor a couple hundred yards from shore.
“Do you think the fish will bite?” I’d ask, my voice sounding somehow foreign as it echoed over waters smooth as glass.
A knowing grin creased his face. “It’s a good place to start.” I knew that meant we would move on in another 20 minutes if necessary. Fish congregate in tepid pools, he’d taught me. It’s a matter of finding those beds of warmth.
I learned a lot from my dad on those early morning outings, things that had nothing to do with fishing, but everything to do with life and love and laughter. For one thing, he showed me that patience is an art form; it doesn’t happen overnight; it takes practice and persistence and something called long-suffering. “If you want to catch the big one,” he’d murmur softly, “you have to wait it out, hang in there.” I suspect now he wasn’t only referring to a 10-pound bass. Much of life calls for resilience and flat out determination, which doesn’t come easily—unless you’ve worked at it.
I learned that a fine sense of humor is like hot honey on a biscuit; it melts a body clear to the bone. Oh, how our laughter pierced the silence of dawn, rousing numbers of birds and other wildlife, not to mention those poor lake residents longing for one more hour of sleep. As much as my father wanted to catch the big one, and knew the importance of quiet persistence, he never passed up the opportunity to inspire a giggle. I was his number one fan, and he took great pride in maintaining that first place spot.
I learned that perseverance pays. Sitting for long hours in a rickety boat doesn’t reap many benefits until you feel that first little tug. There’s nothing quite like it, even for a novice such as myself. You’re shifting on the boat seat, heavy-eyed and fidgety, staring in the distance at a motionless bobber, when suddenly you feel it, that gentle pull on the end of your line. At first, you wonder if you imagined it until your pole starts to dip and bend and you feel your line go taut. “I got one!” you shout, the adrenaline bursting at the seams. “It’s a big one!” Yes, perseverance pays big dividends.
My daddy trained me that it is the simple things in life that satisfy us, that true wealth is not so much about possessions as it is about position -- your position with God, family, friends, and neighbors. Maybe Baby was no yacht, but I would give anything to sit on her wobbly seat once more, run my hand across her rough-hewn texture, and watch the tiny ripples she created as she glided across moon-kissed waters.
Daddy taught me many things, but one thing stands out above the rest – love flows from silence as well as laughter. We could sit for long moments without murmuring a sound. And from that silence surged a comforting knowledge; love is not always about doing or even saying, but being. There is a certainty every child hungers after and that is simply to know he or she is loved without condition.
My father’s generation promoted a staunchness that went beyond sentiment; thus, he wasn’t overly generous with his hugs and kisses, but, oh, how he loved me unreservedly. He would have laid his life down for me. I know it. I’ll always know it. The memory is crystal clear.
Like diamonds on black velvet.
...Memories of Daddy...
A little girl will go to just about any length to please her daddy. At least I did. As far back as I can remember my father loved to fish. I can’t say I ever inherited his penchant for casting out a line in the wee hours of the morning and staring at still, glistening waters for hours on end, sitting on a narrow boat seat, listening to the groans of bullfrogs, while waiting for the tiniest tug at the end of a pole. But I tagged along anyway for the sake of Daddy’s company. And his company was priceless. The memory of it stands out even now like diamonds on black velvet, clear, shimmery, untainted.
“You wanna go fishing in the mornin’?” Dad would ask just before bedtime.
With only a second’s hesitation, I would answer, “Sure!” The truth was I wasn’t thrilled about waking up before dawn, but if it meant spending precious time with the man I most admired, then my answer never required much forethought.
The soft rap on the door came at precisely five o’clock. “Wake up, sleepy head. Fish are jumpin’.”
Quickly wiping sleep from my eyes, I’d roll out from under thick covers and peek past the sheer curtain to find a full moon, its reflection dancing across still waters, a thin layer of fog hovering over the glassy surface. At the water’s edge, our little wooden rowboat lay in wait—a somewhat unreliable old vessel dubbed Maybe Baby by my brother some years before. Maybe it would stay afloat, maybe not. It had been known to spring the occasional leak.
I’d struggle into the same pair of pants I’d shed the night before, throw on a wrinkled sweatshirt, and step into my dirty sneakers. Then stifling a yawn because I didn’t want my grogginess to show, I’d march into the kitchen with purpose. Daddy rewarded me with one of those crooked grins he was famous for and pointed to the door. “Ready?” he’d ask in a whisper so as not to wake the rest of the household. I’d nod.
And off we’d go.
Ah, those crisp summer mornings when the dewy grass tickled my bare ankles as we trudged silently down the hill, the stillness of early morning interrupted only by the sporadic whimper of slowly waking jays and robins. Oh, the uncomplicated perfection.
With a pail, my father would empty out an inch or two of water from the bottom of Maybe Baby. Rainwater? Or that pesky leak? No matter, nothing would keep us from rowing out to the middle of the lake where the biggest catches swirled about, hungry and restless. Some mornings we would share the middle seat, each taking an oar, rowing in perfect rhythm. Other mornings I’d sit in the front, eyes cast downward, mesmerized by the tiny wake created by the boat’s steady course and the tireless squeak of one rusty oar socket.
“How’s this?” he would ask, dropping anchor a couple hundred yards from shore.
“Do you think the fish will bite?” I’d ask, my voice sounding somehow foreign as it echoed over waters smooth as glass.
A knowing grin creased his face. “It’s a good place to start.” I knew that meant we would move on in another 20 minutes if necessary. Fish congregate in tepid pools, he’d taught me. It’s a matter of finding those beds of warmth.
I learned a lot from my dad on those early morning outings, things that had nothing to do with fishing, but everything to do with life and love and laughter. For one thing, he showed me that patience is an art form; it doesn’t happen overnight; it takes practice and persistence and something called long-suffering. “If you want to catch the big one,” he’d murmur softly, “you have to wait it out, hang in there.” I suspect now he wasn’t only referring to a 10-pound bass. Much of life calls for resilience and flat out determination, which doesn’t come easily—unless you’ve worked at it.
I learned that a fine sense of humor is like hot honey on a biscuit; it melts a body clear to the bone. Oh, how our laughter pierced the silence of dawn, rousing numbers of birds and other wildlife, not to mention those poor lake residents longing for one more hour of sleep. As much as my father wanted to catch the big one, and knew the importance of quiet persistence, he never passed up the opportunity to inspire a giggle. I was his number one fan, and he took great pride in maintaining that first place spot.
I learned that perseverance pays. Sitting for long hours in a rickety boat doesn’t reap many benefits until you feel that first little tug. There’s nothing quite like it, even for a novice such as myself. You’re shifting on the boat seat, heavy-eyed and fidgety, staring in the distance at a motionless bobber, when suddenly you feel it, that gentle pull on the end of your line. At first, you wonder if you imagined it until your pole starts to dip and bend and you feel your line go taut. “I got one!” you shout, the adrenaline bursting at the seams. “It’s a big one!” Yes, perseverance pays big dividends.
My daddy trained me that it is the simple things in life that satisfy us, that true wealth is not so much about possessions as it is about position -- your position with God, family, friends, and neighbors. Maybe Baby was no yacht, but I would give anything to sit on her wobbly seat once more, run my hand across her rough-hewn texture, and watch the tiny ripples she created as she glided across moon-kissed waters.
Daddy taught me many things, but one thing stands out above the rest – love flows from silence as well as laughter. We could sit for long moments without murmuring a sound. And from that silence surged a comforting knowledge; love is not always about doing or even saying, but being. There is a certainty every child hungers after and that is simply to know he or she is loved without condition.
My father’s generation promoted a staunchness that went beyond sentiment; thus, he wasn’t overly generous with his hugs and kisses, but, oh, how he loved me unreservedly. He would have laid his life down for me. I know it. I’ll always know it. The memory is crystal clear.
Like diamonds on black velvet.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
PRAISE THE LORD, my book-signing was not only a success, we had a blast! Because of the news article that went in Thursday's paper, all the personal invites I sent out, and just plain word-of-mouth, there were a ton of wonderful people who came out to see me, buy books, and just hang out. I can barely believe it; we sold out of all of B&N's inventory and the 20 or so extra books that we threw in the trunk "just in case".Aren't these ladies precious? (right pic) They go to my church, and I just love them. They are big supporters of my books. Janet and Arlene...
Below (left) is Kim Fritz, a writing buddy. So glad you could make it, Kim. That meant so much to me. The pic to my right is a precious couple, dear friends of Cecil's and mine, Mike and Terri Metzger. They are both treasures from Heaven, and I'm not kidding! Not only that, they traveled through horrendous traffic to get to my signing. A trip that normally would have taken them 15 minutes took about an hour and a half! ROAD CONSTRUCTION!!! UGH!
This is my precious husband, Cecil. Isn't he the cutest, sweetest, handsomest thing you've ever laid eyes on? Whoa, baby. I love this man so much.
This is Marcia and Duane Tisdel (below, left), my daugher's inlaws. They are special friends of the family. I just love them and am so glad Krissi married their wonderful son. Marcia and I joke that this makes us "sis-in-laws".
The pic above right is Terri, Kendra, and my precious grandboy, Dylan. Grandpa was trying to get a smile out of him, but to no avail. He was a bit perturbed because someone took him out of Grandpa's arms. Hm. He's definitely Grandpa's boy, that's for sure.
I'm sorry I didn't get more pictures, but these were taken toward the end of my signing after things had slowed down.
Here's a great story I'd love to share about my day. One woman approached me in tears. She brought Through Every Storm out of her purse, having already read it, and wanted me to sign it. Then she proceeded to tell me what a blessing the book had been to her, the story itself, and all the Bible verses I had included throughout. It was just what she'd needed, she said, telling me God had put that book before her eyes for a reason, and after reading it decided it was time for her and hubby to go back to church. I was so humbled that we hugged and got weepy together. Her name is Janette, and I will be praying for her as God brings her to my mind. After we finished hugging, she snatched up Loving Liza Jane, and said, "Here, sign this one, too, before you run out of copies!"
Thanks to everyone who made it to my signing. It was a blessed day!
Today is Mother's Day, but that's another post...
Love, Shar
Friday, April 27, 2007
This is my big boy, Dakota. The last time I took him to the vet for shots, check-up, etc., he weighed 109 #! He's big boned, tall, and a has about 20# of fur, even though I take him to the groomers once a month! I will admit, he's got a bit of a paunch under all that hair, though. But he's so, so lovable and sweet. I am such a pet lover--although one cat and one dog is my limit. ABSOLUTELY NO RODENTS EVER ALLOWED IN THIS HOUSE...and I don't care how much my children might have begged. I drew the line on that one. I'm go glad God created dogs and cats. They add so much to our lives.
This is Mocha, my 16 pound ball of fur. He's half Himilayan and half Siamese, and 100% big baby. He loves to be carried around, cuddled, loved on, and combed. Every morning while I'm getting ready for my day in the bathroom, he jumps up on the counter and begs for me to get "his comb" out of the drawer. Then he'll sit there and purr as loud as tractor while I comb through his long hair--all the way from the tip of his nose to the end of his long, thick tail. I just love this big guy.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
What an Easter Present!
On Good Friday morning, hubby and I set off for Orlando to visit The Holy Land Experience. This is an amazing park with incredible exhibits and live musical dramas and presentations. Hard to explain what it's like. You just need to "experience" it for yourself. I hope we have the opportunity to go again sometime because we only got to stay an hour or so before I fainted in the ladies' restroom and was whisked away by ambulance to Orlando Regional Hospital. Two days and about 13 tests later, it was determined that my fainting spell was just that--a fainting spell. I hadn't been feeling well, and the combination of drugs I'd taken for my headache, the Florida sun, and maybe some dehydration caused me to pass out.
That wasn't what I wanted to share, however. Let me tell you about my wonderful God experience on Saturday afternoon. Lying in the hospital bed after 36 hours of tests and still more to go before the doctors were satisfied, I was beginning to feel the onset of a major panic attack--and I mean MAJOR. I had the shakes, couldn't still my heart rate, developed diarrhea and nausea, and was hyperventilating. Since I tend to have a history with anxiety, I recognized the signs, but no matter how hard I tried, reciting Bible verses and praying unceasingly, I couldn't get a grip. It seemed the enemy Satan had decided to begin whispering lies in my head about my being on the verge of a breakdown, telling me my panic was about to increase ten-fold, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Well, while in the throes of panic, I was laid on a board to prepare for yet another test, this one a 20-minute series of pictures taken of my heart during which time I was not permitted to move a muscle. I told the technicians that I was having a panic attack and wasn't sure I could handle one more test. The notion of lying still inside a "rocket-shaped" machine only increased my agitation. Seeming to ignore my situation, one technician patted my arm and mumbled something like, "You'll get through it." As if that were any consolation. Then off they went into a little room to operate the machine--leaving me alone to listen to the pounding rhythm of my rapid heartbeat.
Ah, but I wasn't alone. Jesus was there, the resurrected Jesus! How could I have forgotten?
After lying on that hard, narrow cot for all of one minute, encapsulized in a solid steel vessel, it suddenly occured to me that Satan had been toying with me. In my head (I couldn't move a muscle, so I figured that included my mouth), I said "Satan, leave me alone." But then I thought to myself, Wait! He can't hear me, he's not all-knowing, all powerful--he can't read minds. But Jesus can! So 'in my head' I said, "Jesus, would you please go tell Satan to leave me alone?"
There is only one word to describe what happened next, and that word is INSTANTANEOUS.
Up and down my body flowed an indescribable peace and rest. My panic rolled away and I became so comfortable on that 12-inch board, right arm lying on a pillow-type extension, left arm tucked up under my head, unmovable. Tears of joy fell silently down my cheeks as I lay on my newfound cloud of comfort and experienced God's divine mercy and love.
In those freeing moments I realized anew that Satan is a defeated foe. I pictured him (more likely his pesky messengers--remember there's only one Satan--he cannot be in more than one place at any given time like God can) fleeing as fast as they could go when Jesus came along and simply said, "Scram! She's mine." That little word picture had me so blessed I could barely keep from shouting Hallelujah in that steel rocket!
When they wheeled me into that testing room I was one panicked individual, but when they wheeled me out I was NEW, different! My husband noticed it right away. "You look like a different person," he told me. I said, "I am. God healed me of my fear in there." I told the technicians, the nurses, and even a couple of doctors what had happened to me, how God had rescued me from my panic, completely removed it with a simple little plea of, "God, please tell Satan to leave me alone." Most smiled. Some nodded their heads and looked a little skeptical, while others said, "That's cool." Bottom line, I really didn't care what anyone thought because I knew what I knew what I knew... and that was that God intervened for me that day.
I serve a big God, and when I call on His name, He hears and answers!
On Good Friday morning, hubby and I set off for Orlando to visit The Holy Land Experience. This is an amazing park with incredible exhibits and live musical dramas and presentations. Hard to explain what it's like. You just need to "experience" it for yourself. I hope we have the opportunity to go again sometime because we only got to stay an hour or so before I fainted in the ladies' restroom and was whisked away by ambulance to Orlando Regional Hospital. Two days and about 13 tests later, it was determined that my fainting spell was just that--a fainting spell. I hadn't been feeling well, and the combination of drugs I'd taken for my headache, the Florida sun, and maybe some dehydration caused me to pass out.
That wasn't what I wanted to share, however. Let me tell you about my wonderful God experience on Saturday afternoon. Lying in the hospital bed after 36 hours of tests and still more to go before the doctors were satisfied, I was beginning to feel the onset of a major panic attack--and I mean MAJOR. I had the shakes, couldn't still my heart rate, developed diarrhea and nausea, and was hyperventilating. Since I tend to have a history with anxiety, I recognized the signs, but no matter how hard I tried, reciting Bible verses and praying unceasingly, I couldn't get a grip. It seemed the enemy Satan had decided to begin whispering lies in my head about my being on the verge of a breakdown, telling me my panic was about to increase ten-fold, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Well, while in the throes of panic, I was laid on a board to prepare for yet another test, this one a 20-minute series of pictures taken of my heart during which time I was not permitted to move a muscle. I told the technicians that I was having a panic attack and wasn't sure I could handle one more test. The notion of lying still inside a "rocket-shaped" machine only increased my agitation. Seeming to ignore my situation, one technician patted my arm and mumbled something like, "You'll get through it." As if that were any consolation. Then off they went into a little room to operate the machine--leaving me alone to listen to the pounding rhythm of my rapid heartbeat.
Ah, but I wasn't alone. Jesus was there, the resurrected Jesus! How could I have forgotten?
After lying on that hard, narrow cot for all of one minute, encapsulized in a solid steel vessel, it suddenly occured to me that Satan had been toying with me. In my head (I couldn't move a muscle, so I figured that included my mouth), I said "Satan, leave me alone." But then I thought to myself, Wait! He can't hear me, he's not all-knowing, all powerful--he can't read minds. But Jesus can! So 'in my head' I said, "Jesus, would you please go tell Satan to leave me alone?"
There is only one word to describe what happened next, and that word is INSTANTANEOUS.
Up and down my body flowed an indescribable peace and rest. My panic rolled away and I became so comfortable on that 12-inch board, right arm lying on a pillow-type extension, left arm tucked up under my head, unmovable. Tears of joy fell silently down my cheeks as I lay on my newfound cloud of comfort and experienced God's divine mercy and love.
In those freeing moments I realized anew that Satan is a defeated foe. I pictured him (more likely his pesky messengers--remember there's only one Satan--he cannot be in more than one place at any given time like God can) fleeing as fast as they could go when Jesus came along and simply said, "Scram! She's mine." That little word picture had me so blessed I could barely keep from shouting Hallelujah in that steel rocket!
When they wheeled me into that testing room I was one panicked individual, but when they wheeled me out I was NEW, different! My husband noticed it right away. "You look like a different person," he told me. I said, "I am. God healed me of my fear in there." I told the technicians, the nurses, and even a couple of doctors what had happened to me, how God had rescued me from my panic, completely removed it with a simple little plea of, "God, please tell Satan to leave me alone." Most smiled. Some nodded their heads and looked a little skeptical, while others said, "That's cool." Bottom line, I really didn't care what anyone thought because I knew what I knew what I knew... and that was that God intervened for me that day.
I serve a big God, and when I call on His name, He hears and answers!
Friday, March 16, 2007
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Yesterday a carton of books arrived at my house! Loving Liza Jane should hit the shelves most any day now, and I'm ecstatic, awed by God's marvelous plans and purposes, and humbled that He would choose to use me in this manner. I have always loved to write, but I never dreamt even two years ago that I would be pubbed by a main-line publisher. God is so good and merciful. On another note, Through Every Storm is doing well.
I stand amazed in God's presence. The way He speaks to me, walks with me, leads and guides my steps. Thank you, Lord, for your faithfulness.
Dylan's first birthday is March 21. We're hosting a party tomorrow for about 30 guests. Should be a fun-filled day. Talk about blessings, Dylan is our biggest! We love him so much. It's so fun to watch all the changes he's made over the year.
Bounteous Blessings,
Shar
Yesterday a carton of books arrived at my house! Loving Liza Jane should hit the shelves most any day now, and I'm ecstatic, awed by God's marvelous plans and purposes, and humbled that He would choose to use me in this manner. I have always loved to write, but I never dreamt even two years ago that I would be pubbed by a main-line publisher. God is so good and merciful. On another note, Through Every Storm is doing well.
I stand amazed in God's presence. The way He speaks to me, walks with me, leads and guides my steps. Thank you, Lord, for your faithfulness.
Dylan's first birthday is March 21. We're hosting a party tomorrow for about 30 guests. Should be a fun-filled day. Talk about blessings, Dylan is our biggest! We love him so much. It's so fun to watch all the changes he's made over the year.
Bounteous Blessings,
Shar
Sunday, February 25, 2007
THE MITFORD SERIES
I've had Jan Karon's first book in her series sitting on my shelf for years. Don't ask me why it's taken me so long. I have no excuse other than to say when I heard it was about a priest in his 60s I thought--yeah, but I'm all about reading romance. I just didn't think I would connect with a story where the hero is graying, has belly-fat issues, has never married, and loves to hang out in the kitchen. WRONG! This series is masterful! And I am so in love with Father Tim it is not even funny!
Actually, the story did begin on a slow note, so I did question whether I would finish it, but after plowing through the first 100 pages or so, I found myself hooked! Now I'm midway through the third book. I believe there's one more in the series, then she writes about something else. Anyway, so glad I discovered these delightful books. I will be sad when Mitford comes to an end.
I had my first local book signing for Through Every Storm at Hage's yesterday. It was a huge success, and athey are anxious for me to come back when Loving Liza Jane hits the shelves.
God is so, so good to me. Lord, thank you for the seed of passion you've planted in my heart for writing. I just can't think of anything I'd rather be doing in my "golden years" (smile)...yes, I'll be 59 this summer. I suppose that qualifies as golden, or at least it's getting awfully close.
Ho-hum...
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
I've had Jan Karon's first book in her series sitting on my shelf for years. Don't ask me why it's taken me so long. I have no excuse other than to say when I heard it was about a priest in his 60s I thought--yeah, but I'm all about reading romance. I just didn't think I would connect with a story where the hero is graying, has belly-fat issues, has never married, and loves to hang out in the kitchen. WRONG! This series is masterful! And I am so in love with Father Tim it is not even funny!
Actually, the story did begin on a slow note, so I did question whether I would finish it, but after plowing through the first 100 pages or so, I found myself hooked! Now I'm midway through the third book. I believe there's one more in the series, then she writes about something else. Anyway, so glad I discovered these delightful books. I will be sad when Mitford comes to an end.
I had my first local book signing for Through Every Storm at Hage's yesterday. It was a huge success, and athey are anxious for me to come back when Loving Liza Jane hits the shelves.
God is so, so good to me. Lord, thank you for the seed of passion you've planted in my heart for writing. I just can't think of anything I'd rather be doing in my "golden years" (smile)...yes, I'll be 59 this summer. I suppose that qualifies as golden, or at least it's getting awfully close.
Ho-hum...
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Saturday, February 03, 2007
Oh, my goodness, it's "blizzarding" here in West Michigan. Cold, cold, cold. High winds, tons of snow, and frigid temps. Thank God for a toasty warm house.
Super Bowl tomorrow. Even I am a bit excited about this game. And I am NOT a football fan by any stretch!
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Super Bowl tomorrow. Even I am a bit excited about this game. And I am NOT a football fan by any stretch!
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
I just returned from CBA's ADVANCE '07 in Indianapolis and what a blessing it was. I had my first-ever book signing, and signed books for a solid hour. Unfortunately, we ran out of books. What a humbling experience to see people waiting patiently for a signed copy of my book. I went into this event with fear and trembling, but everything about the week far exceeded my expectations. God has been so good to me. And the people at Whitaker House Publishing are amazing folks!
I just returned from CBA's ADVANCE '07 in Indianapolis and what a blessing it was. I had my first-ever book signing, and signed books for a solid hour. Unfortunately, we ran out of books. What a humbling experience to see people waiting patiently for a signed copy of my book. I went into this event with fear and trembling, but everything about the week far exceeded my expectations. God has been so good to me. And the people at Whitaker House Publishing are amazing folks!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
It's a new year, and with that comes a fresh kind of feeling--like the mistakes I made in the past year can be wiped clean for a brand new start. It's like washing a chalkboard full of marks and smudges. Until you put that first word--or line--or number on the board it looks brand new. That's how this new year looks, clean, bright, empty, and brand new. Of course, I know it won't last (already my calendar is filling up). But for now anyway, my days feel new. I feel revived, and ready to face the challenge.
Of course, with the new year come resolutions. I've only made one because I know ME! My resolution is spelled
C-U-R-V-E-S! I went today and yesterday. My aim is to work out 3X a week, so I'm hoping I can stick with it this time. I've lost the weight, and now it's a matter of toning muscle.
Along with this resolution comes my "theme" for the year, which is TRUST. I've been thinking about this word and how it coincides with faith. I think they go hand-in-hand, but also have separate meanings. To me, "trust" seems like a quiet assurance, while "faith" seems more active. At any rate, trust is something for which I'm seeking to improve w/ regard to my spiritual walk. So many issues of life disrupt my faith in a Holy and soverign God. Time to take my eyes off self and focus more on God and others. Not always easy--but necessary.
A good verse to reflect on is Provers 3:5,6, which simply says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Of course, with the new year come resolutions. I've only made one because I know ME! My resolution is spelled
C-U-R-V-E-S! I went today and yesterday. My aim is to work out 3X a week, so I'm hoping I can stick with it this time. I've lost the weight, and now it's a matter of toning muscle.
Along with this resolution comes my "theme" for the year, which is TRUST. I've been thinking about this word and how it coincides with faith. I think they go hand-in-hand, but also have separate meanings. To me, "trust" seems like a quiet assurance, while "faith" seems more active. At any rate, trust is something for which I'm seeking to improve w/ regard to my spiritual walk. So many issues of life disrupt my faith in a Holy and soverign God. Time to take my eyes off self and focus more on God and others. Not always easy--but necessary.
A good verse to reflect on is Provers 3:5,6, which simply says, "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Thursday, December 28, 2006
The hustle and bustle of the holidays have come to a close with the exception of New Years Eve. Cec and I will stay home that night and enjoy a glass of sparkling grape juice--probably be in bed before midnight!!! The big bonus is that we get to keep our grandson for an overnight. What a way to bring in the new year.
Christmas was wonderful this year, particularly because of all the fun we had watching Dylan tear into his first ever Christmas gifts. Even at nine-months he was starting to catch on to the fact that beneath all that noisy paper was a special surprise.
The shopping, the baking, the wrapping, the decorating, the entertaining, and the worshiping--all of it's been recorded in my mental book of memories. And now that I've put away all the decorations, dragged the tree outside, vacuumed up the pine needles, dusted and scrubbed in order to put the house back in order, I have a bit of time to reflect and recharge. I love this time of year. But I also love the thought of moving ahead, seeing what's next. Time marches on, which to some can be a disturbing thought (we're not getting any younger), but I'm determined to stay positive and seize each moment.
God is good. I don't want to miss one single opportunity to spread His love and good cheer.
Be Blessed and Encouraged!
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Christmas was wonderful this year, particularly because of all the fun we had watching Dylan tear into his first ever Christmas gifts. Even at nine-months he was starting to catch on to the fact that beneath all that noisy paper was a special surprise.
The shopping, the baking, the wrapping, the decorating, the entertaining, and the worshiping--all of it's been recorded in my mental book of memories. And now that I've put away all the decorations, dragged the tree outside, vacuumed up the pine needles, dusted and scrubbed in order to put the house back in order, I have a bit of time to reflect and recharge. I love this time of year. But I also love the thought of moving ahead, seeing what's next. Time marches on, which to some can be a disturbing thought (we're not getting any younger), but I'm determined to stay positive and seize each moment.
God is good. I don't want to miss one single opportunity to spread His love and good cheer.
Be Blessed and Encouraged!
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Thirty-one years ago today I pledged to love and cherish one man only, and I am proud to say my love for him has grown deeper and wider than I ever imagined possible! Praise God for entrusting me with Cecil MacLaren's heart. It was a wonderful day when he gave me his heart. It was a wonderful thing, Lord, you making it possible. What a lovely journey. Yes, there have been a few ups and downs along the way, but the greater part of this journey has been a tremendous thrill. Thank you, Lord.
____________________________________________
Today's Bible passage came from Psalm 27. "The Lord is my light and my salvation--so why should I be afraid? The Lord protects me from danger--so why should I tremble?"
This whole chapter speaks to the issue of trust in the midst of chaos. I love that even when I'm frenzied and panicked over deadlines, personal responsibilities, Christmas shopping, appointments, program rehearsals, holiday parties/entertaining, and the list goes on...God can quiet my heart with a simple verse of scripture. As I was reading this chapter, I stopped in my tracks at verse 8 -- "My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me." And my heart responds, "Lord, I am coming."
Very simply, God wants (even longs) to commune with us. He wants to hear about our busyness, go with us on our shopping sprees, listen in as we struggle to learn the songs for the Christmas services, tag along to the holiday parties, accompany us to our appointments. He wants to be with us. Question is--am I making a conscious effort to INVITE Him?
Lord, I invite you now to take control of my thoughts, my comings and goings. Help me not to forget YOU are the REASON for the season.
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
____________________________________________
Today's Bible passage came from Psalm 27. "The Lord is my light and my salvation--so why should I be afraid? The Lord protects me from danger--so why should I tremble?"
This whole chapter speaks to the issue of trust in the midst of chaos. I love that even when I'm frenzied and panicked over deadlines, personal responsibilities, Christmas shopping, appointments, program rehearsals, holiday parties/entertaining, and the list goes on...God can quiet my heart with a simple verse of scripture. As I was reading this chapter, I stopped in my tracks at verse 8 -- "My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me." And my heart responds, "Lord, I am coming."
Very simply, God wants (even longs) to commune with us. He wants to hear about our busyness, go with us on our shopping sprees, listen in as we struggle to learn the songs for the Christmas services, tag along to the holiday parties, accompany us to our appointments. He wants to be with us. Question is--am I making a conscious effort to INVITE Him?
Lord, I invite you now to take control of my thoughts, my comings and goings. Help me not to forget YOU are the REASON for the season.
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Friday, December 01, 2006
I'm bubbling over with excitement because a big carton of books - all with my name on it - arrived just yesterday. Through Every Storm is in and available--and ahead of schedule. When I tore the top off that box and saw those books my eyes welled up with tears at the wonder of it all. Just a few years ago, I never would have pictured myself a writer, much less a published one, but God saw the picture and planted a seed of passion in my heart. I am daily amazed by His goodness and mercy to me.
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. As is usually the case at this time of year, busyness abounds in the MacLaren household, even minus the kids. My shopping is well underway; in fact, almost completed. I enjoy finishing early so I can kick back and simply enjoy the season.
Tomorrow night Cec and I plan to see The Nativity Story at the theater. I hope it's as good as I've heard.
May God continue to rain down His blessing of protection on all of us.
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. As is usually the case at this time of year, busyness abounds in the MacLaren household, even minus the kids. My shopping is well underway; in fact, almost completed. I enjoy finishing early so I can kick back and simply enjoy the season.
Tomorrow night Cec and I plan to see The Nativity Story at the theater. I hope it's as good as I've heard.
May God continue to rain down His blessing of protection on all of us.
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Thursday, November 02, 2006
It's November 2nd, and it's snowing here in West Michigan! What? Something is not right with this picture...snow in early November? (And it's bitterly cold!) Lord, help me to rejoice in all things...even this wet, white stuff! I do take a little comfort in the fact that at least it's not sticking to the ground -- yet.
Today's verse: "For we know that in all things God works for the good of those who place their trust in Him..." Rom. 8:28
Keep smiling...Keep trusting...Keep praising...
Hugs and Blessings,
Shar
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Today's verse: "For we know that in all things God works for the good of those who place their trust in Him..." Rom. 8:28
Keep smiling...Keep trusting...Keep praising...
Hugs and Blessings,
Shar
Sharlene MacLaren/ www.sharlenemaclaren.com
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
I'm trying to break through the very thick walls of super technology, and let me tell you, this is no easy task! It'd be easy to blame it on my generation--(I graduated from college in 1971, so, yes, I'm old)--but I know many people my age who are very gifted technologically! I could blame it on the fact that I'm a woman, and I enjoy spending all my time honing in on my domestic skills, but that would be a bit of a stretch, too. And maybe I could blame my limitations on the fact that I've never been science/math/analytically gifted. Those do tie in with technology, right? Whatever the case may be, I'm struggling!
At any rate, my life is full and good--whether or not I ever master this whole "blog world".
Until next time, may God bless anyone who happens to stumble across this blog! LOL
Shar
At any rate, my life is full and good--whether or not I ever master this whole "blog world".
Until next time, may God bless anyone who happens to stumble across this blog! LOL
Shar
I opened this blog site about a year ago and did nothing with it. So here I am again, hoping to get it off the ground.
With the help of my dear online buddy, Michelle Sutton, I now have a website...check it out!
With the help of my dear online buddy, Michelle Sutton, I now have a website...check it out!
I hope to be able to start posting to this blogsite at least once or twice weekly.
Blessings,
Shar
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