MY BABY IS COMING! -- ANY DAY NOW!!!!!


Yes, yes, it's true! My baby is coming. In fact, she will be dropped off on my doorstep, all bundled up in a box, perhaps as early as Tuesday! What, you say? Someone is dropping your baby off at your doorstep--in a BOX?

Indeed! Isn't that the easiest means of delivery? Ask any mother and she'll say she'd gladly skip labor and have someone bring that baby directly to her! Right, moms?

Trouble is--I HAVE had to endure labor pains--some rather painful, plodding, and slow going ones, others moving along at a rather nice pace. That's the way it is with we writers, especially us "seat-of-the-pantsers", who never quite know from page-to-page what's going to happen next. Unfortunately, sometimes we "pantsers" have to wait days between scenes; thus, the labor.

Well, my draft finally complete, and all those edits nailed down, they sent my "baby" off to the printers some weeks ago. But, alas! I just received news TODAY that "she" has arrived at the warehouse, Hannah Grace, that is, number one in my Daughters of Jacob Kane Series!

Oooh, wheee--I think I shall HAVE to do a "GIVEAWAY"! WHAT DO YOU THINK?

OKAY, HERE'S THE DEAL, IF YOU'RE INTERESTED IN A CHANCE TO WIN A SIGNED COPY, JUST MAKE A COMMENT BELOW (click on Comments) AND, WA-LAH! YOU'RE ENTERED. I'LL HOLD THE DRAWING ON NOVEMBER 29!!!!

And now, take a look at my brief synopsis!
BACK-COVER BOOK BLURB: Raised in the resort town of Sandy Shores, Michigan, Hannah Grace, the eldest of Jacob Kane's three daughters, is feisty and strong-willed, yet practical. Between working at her father's general store and courting the town's physician, Ralston VanHuff, Hannah has her life planned out in an orderly, meaningful way. Or so it seems.

But Hannah's world turns upside down when the new sheriff comes to town. Gabriel Devlin is strong, outspoken and a Christian, to boot--but he's sworn off women, having met ones mostly interested in money and apathetic toward God.

Determined to ignore the newcomer's handsome looks, Hannah is drawn to him nonetheless by a runaway orphan boy named Jesse. While Hannah works to befriend the shy vagabond, who's living with Gabriel until other arrangements can be made, God works in her heart.

What plans does HE have in store for this young woman who thought she had it all together?

COME AND MEET MY NEW ASSISTANT!


I am a novelist, a creator, an actress of sorts, a romantic, and a generally goofy person who probably has a touch of undiagnosed ADHD. What I am not is an organizer, a plotter, a planner, a supervisor, or a multi-tasker. Therefore, I have boxes, drawers, and cabinets full of unsorted papers, ancient papers, that is, dating back to high school and college days; old report cards, outdated car insurance tabs, oil change records from autos I no longer possess, medical insurance statements from 1970 (exaggeration), and so on. In case you're wondering, Cecil has his own filing system in his office, and never the twain shall meet. So there's my filing system, which pretty much stinks, and there's Cecil's, which stinks less.

Now, as my writing career takes wing, I find my flawed, foppish filing system falling further into futility, and frankly, I'm full-out frustrated!

So, I was talking to one of my girls about this in the car the other day, telling her I'm at that stage, what with publishing contracts and other important work-related papers floating around in unknown places, business receipts lying under paperweights and stuck in corners, where I need to hire someone to ORGANIZE ME! I said, "I will pay someone $15 per hour (I don't know what the going rate is, but I threw out that figure) to go through all my files -- redistribute, purge, sort, shred, whatever it takes, and get me on the right track. She quickly raised her hand. "Mom! I can do that!"

"You can?" I almost drove off the road. This is the girl who never cleaned her bedroom as a teen, well, rarely. Only when she could no longer make a path to her bed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. I'm good at that stuff."

"You are?" Now that she's married and has a child, I will admit her housekeeping skills have changed dramatically. She hates dust, dirt, and disarray. But she likes money and the chance to make a little extra as the holidays draw near.

So, guess what. I hired her! And she is doing a great job. Well, I cringe every time I hear the shredder, but that's beside the point. "What are you shredding now?" I call from my computer.

"You don't need to know!"

At one point she did come into my office with a stack of papers and ask, "Mom, why are you saving these?" They were my gas and electric bills from the past 20+ years all clipped together. I told her I like to compare costs from year to year. She asked why. I said, "Um, I don't know really. So I can get depressed?" She shook her head at me, and 30 seconds later, I heard the shredder. There went the last 20 years of utility statements! Blink! Gone! But so much of my life was wrapped up in those utility statements. (Just kidding.)

Okay, so this will be a good thing in the end, right? I will have a system that works. Tonight she asked me if I'm going to maintain this "system" once she has it all in place, and I told her I absolutely would, but I had my fingers crossed behind my back when I said it. "Mom." She gave me that narrow-eyed, scolding look. "I'm going to have to keep checking up on you." Wait! Who's the mother here?

Well, for the past few days the paperwork's been scattered across the floor in the guest bedroom downstairs. She has already filled one HUGE garbage bag to the brim with shredded papers. (Dear Lord, what of my life is going to the dump?) And she is working on the next bag! (Help me! I've created a monster.) Anyway, thought you'd like to see a photo of my assistant hard at work, earning her 15 bucks an hour.

Oh, and she has to have this done by next Friday, as I'm having that bridal shower at my house, you remember. Never can tell who might wander downstairs and peek into the guest bedroom. I wouldn't want anyone thinking I'm not organized! teehee

IT'S SNOWING LEAVES!

TRULY IT IS!!!I looked out my back slider at precisely the right moment -- just as a colorful Maple had decided to shed its coat for another season. Off came its leaves, drifting down by the thousands like feather-light snowflakes, blanketing the ground in red and gold. We were baby sitting our grandkids, Dylan and Lexi, at the time, so Cecil decided to take Dylan out for a bit of raking. Well, as you know, you don't rake with a two-year-old and expect the pile to stay intact. In fact, the pile became a "bed" of sorts.

HERE THEY ARE RACING TOWARD THE BED OF LEAVES!


DYLAN CLEARLY IN THE LEAD!


WHEEEEEEE!


DYLAN AND PAPA WRESTLING. AGAIN, DYLAN, CLEARLY ON TOP!


There is NOTHING on earth like Grandpa/Grandson time. SEIZE THE MOMENT!

FROM THE EIFFEL TOWER TO MARIA'S GARDEN GATE


Let me tell you, Cecil and I packed in a whopping lot in the eleven or so days we spent in London and Paris. And I dare say every delicious calorie consumed was almost immediately walked off! In London, we experienced every mode of transportation from the trains and buses to the taxis and the underground. We snapped pictures of beautiful Regent Street, Westminster Abbey, Parliament, Piccadilly Circus, Big Ben, and the Thames River. We visited Hampton Manor, a castle built for King Henry VIII. We shopped at Harrods Department Store and Hamley's Toy Store--oh, and we breezed through the amazing Liberty Department Store, a castle onto itself. In Paris, we visited the Eiffel Tower, crossed the Seine River, walked the grounds of the Louvre Museum, sipped on coffee at one of the many outdoor cafes, enjoyed a lovely, romantic dinner at a wonderful restaurant, and kissed on a few street corners. Oh, there was so much to see I can barely even put it all into words. I mean, how do you write about an experience like that in a few short paragraphs?

Well, let me say the sights were amazing, yes, even enthralling and spectacular, but far more exciting to me was meeting my precious Shoutlife friend, Maria Cristina, and her ADORABLE fiance, Simone, face to face! To know them is to love them and Cecil and I are BLESSED BEYOND MEASURE BY THE EXPERIENCE!

People and relationships are so much more important than things, and meeting my precious Maria on this trip reminded me of that truth over and over. I can't tell you how many times throughout our time together I whispered up a prayer of thanks to my Heavenly Father for orchestrating this beautiful friendship, which shall take us into eternity. Of that I am CERTAIN.

I've said it before -- we serve a generous, loving God who wants to give us gifts. And the precious gift of friendship is the best one of all!

If I had the choice to revisit the Eiffel Tower or Maria's backyard gate, which do you think I'd pick?





Simone, Maria, Cecil, and me enjoying dinner at a restaurant--our last night together...



Maria and Shar

MY HOUSE IS NO LONGER SAFE!

I am deathly, I mean deathly--and that is not an exaggeration--afraid of mice. I HATE THEM, I DETEST THEM, I CRINGE AT THE SIGHT OF THEM, I REFUSE TO WALK DOWN THE STORE AISLE OF THE PET SECTION IF I THINK THERE MIGHT BE ONE IN A CAGE, I CAN'T LOOK AT ONE ON A TV OR MOVIE SCREEN--AND I CERTAINLY CANNOT TOLERATE seeing one in my own house!!! Well, today -- yup! -- for the first time in the 26 years we've lived in this house I saw one run across my floor!!!!!! Lord, help me!

I was sitting in my office chair, holding my sleeping 7-month-old grandson, when my dog suddenly leaped up. (If you know my lazy, 100#, 10-year-old collie, you know he NEVER leaps up.) My big ol' cat, who'd been sleeping on the big pet pillow nearby, also, hmm, stirred. Meaning he sat up and stared in the same direction Dakota was staring. I then heard the tiniest little noise and looked down. There, I saw a little dark thing peeking around the corner OF MY OFFICE DOOR. YOW!!! I shocked myself by not screaming. I did, however, sprint out of my chair and run the opposite way, out through the bathroom, the guest bedroom, and into the laundry room. Then I took a dare, a GIANT dare, and peeked around the corner, where I'd seen the...eeeooouuuu...mouse. Guess what. The cat was still sitting on the pillow and WATCHING the thing run across the floor. At least my dog appeared mildly interested, as he followed it with his nose--somewhat.

From there, I ran up the stairs, breathless, into Cecil's office--(THANK GOD HE IS CURRENTLY UNEMPLOYED!!!!!) "I-I-just saw--a--mouse!" I managed to get out. He swiveled around, all nonchalant. Oh, I hate that.

"You did?"

"Yes! Go get it!" (Oh, by the way, the baby, of course, is no longer sleeping due to all the bobbling up and down, and I feel somewhat guilty for my childish reaction, and for not putting him in his crib before my world crashed in on me.)

I stayed hovered in a corner of Cecil's office, hugging the baby close, while he went to get a broom. A broom! And then I listened to a bit of a scuffle going on underneath me, and then a lot of pounding. UGH. The sound shall remain in my head for days, maybe months, to come.

I thought I lived in a mouse-free environment. Now, all I can think about is, does this thing have a family? If so, are they lurking about looking for him? Yes, my hubby set traps, four of them, all slathered with peanut butter. And every half-hour for the last seven hours I've made him check them. So far nothing--so maybe there's hope that he was just a fluke? But then just tonight at small group Bible study one of the guys there had the nerve to say that where there's one there's ten. HUH???? What kind of friend would say such a thing? Now, I have to sit at my desk with my feet up for at least the next two months--at least until I can feel reasonably certain there are no more yucky little gray things running around. And by the way, I asked my hubby what the cat did when he went after the mouse with a broom and he said he just sat on his pillow and watched. Grrrrrrr. I'm so mad at my cat! What good is he?

Okay, well, thank you for allowing me to vent. And let me just say, IF YOU READ THIS TO THE END, YOU ARE A TRUE, TRUE FRIEND.

Oh dear, writing deadlines loom, and now I have to think about the possibility of something crawling across my foot?????? Pray for me. And I don't say that in a trite manner. I AM SERIOUS AS A DEAD LOON!

Sometime this week I shall tell you about our trip to Europe--and add pictures!

Unless I see another one of those ucky things in my office.

Then it could be a while.

"DANGEROUS" CHOCOLATE CAKE-IN-A-MUG!!!

You won't believe it. I just finished it off and it was great! I'm sending you the recipe to this DANGEROUS cake. Why is it dangerous? You'll see when you get to the end...

"CAKE-IN-A-MUG:

WHAT YOU NEED:
1 coffee mug
4 Tbsp. cake flour (cake flour makes for a lighter cake than regular flour)
4 Tbsp. sugar
2 Tbsp. baking cocoa
1 egg
3 Tbsp. milk
3 Tbsp. oil
Small splash of vanilla
3 Tbsp. chocolate chips (optional, but, really, why would they be optional?)

WHAT YOU DO:
Add dry ingredients to mug, mix well with a fork. Add egg, mix thoroughly. Pour in milk, oil, and vanilla, mix well. Add chocolate chips if using, and WHY wouldn't you be, for Heaven's sake? This IS a chocolate cake!

NOW WHAT?
Put mug in microwave, and cook for three minutes on HIGH. Cake will rise over top of mug--do not be alarmed! Allow cake to cool then tip onto a plate.



AND LAST???
Why, put a scoop of ice cream on top, of course, and ENJOY! (This can serve two if you're feeling slightly virtuous.)

WHY IS THIS CALLED THE MOST "DANGEROUS" CAKE RECIPE IN THE WORLD? Because now we are all only five minutes away from chocolate cake any time of the day or night!!!

I love you all!

SEPTEMBER ALREADY?






ONE LAST SPLASH IN THE POOL



Oh, I hate to see it--this ebbing away of one season and the flowing in of another. It's that dratted "circle of life" thing. I told you I turned 60 last month (see it's already the NEXT MONTH!), and ever since, I've been viewing life through clearer, if not more realistic, eyes. Oh, I'm not depressed, discouraged, or defeated, mind you. If anything I'm energized and excited about God's offerings! I sometimes feel a little like that bright-eyed kid I once was, not quite tall enough to reach the kitchen counter, so standing on tiptoe to watch my mom put away the week's groceries, knowing a promised, delicious treat is coming. The older I become the more I'm reminded of God's generous, faithful, perfect love for me. Everyday, I anticipate something good coming down the pike. I'm not saying life is a box of chocolates. NO! Life is scary sometimes; it's full of ups and downs, holes and speed-bumps, disappointments, skinned knees, and bruised hearts. But it's also full of God's grace and mercy and forgiveness. That's the "something good" I'm talking about.

So why is it I cleave to summer? Probably because I didn't do all the things I had good intentions of doing. Yesterday, I took one long look at my shimmering, glimmering pool out my kitchen window. The kids and grandkids were over and my husband and grandson were playing 'Who's gonna get wet first?'. I had a kitchen full of dinner dishes to clean up, but the shrieking sounds of pool play and splashing water beckoned me--as did that lovely, flawless September sunshine. ((Next Sunday, there will be a loop-lock winter cover spread across my pool. Wasn't it just yesterday we took it off after a long, grueling winter?))

I raced to the other room for my swimsuit and jumped into it speedy quick. I'd missed opportunities for pool fun this summer because other things took precedence, like keeping a spotless kitchen, sorting the day's laundry, or even heading to my office to complete that all-important scene in my current novel.

But today I planned to enjoy it, lie in it, lavish it, let the sun drain its hot rays deep into my pores--and phooey on the sunscreen! Phooey on the waiting dishes, the mashed potatoes still sitting in their big serving bowl.

Oh, it was grand listening to Dylan squeal, "Grandma's coming!" Grand when he splashed my back, when I took to the rubber mat and sailed from one end to the other (Grandma's little boat!), grand to listen to all the banter and play and delighted shrieks. And even grander after everyone left for home and naps, and I still lay there in the stillness of an early, early autumn day, tiny breezes rippling the water, listening now to the banter of tree frogs and squirrels, of bird calls and cricket cries.

Yes, it is that "circle of life" thing that keeps our seasons coming and going, makes the wrinkles on our faces grow deeper and longer, makes our children grow into adults who become parents themselves. It's important to recognize there's little we can do to slow down time. What we can do, though, is put a temporary halt to our own rushing lifestyles, take a minute to listen to the cricket's song, the rustle of leaves, that distant dog's lonesome bark. We need to do this. It's the only way to keep our senses sharp, our souls energized, our hearts alive.

And sometimes there are other benefits to slowing down and letting go of some things. Others take notice. Yesterday when I came in after my long afternoon of lazing in the pool--guess what I found. A sparkling kitchen.

Now, that's a benefit I'll gladly accept!

FOR PET LOVERS ONLY










To be posted VERY LOW on the refrigerator door:

Dear Dogs and Cats:

1.The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my food. Please note, placing a paw print in the middle of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

2.The stairway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a racetrack. Beating me to the bottom is not the object. Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

3.I cannot buy anything bigger than a king-sized bed. I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your comfort. Dogs and cats can actually curl up in a ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to each other stretched out to the fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking tails straight out and having tongues hanging out the other end to maximize space is nothing but sarcasm.

4.For the last time, there is no secret exit from the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary to claw, whine, meow, try to turn the knob or get your paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I have been using the bathroom for years --canine or feline attendance is not required.

5.The proper order is kiss me, then go smell the other dog or cat's butt. I cannot stress this enough!

And, to pacify you, my dear pets, I have posted the following message on our front door:


To All Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Like to Complain About Our Pets:

1. They live here. You don't.
2. If you don't want their hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture. That's why they call it "fur"niture.
3. I like my pets better than some people.
4. To you, they are an animal. To me, they are my short, hairy, four-legged children.

And as a side note, dogs and cats are different from real kids in that they:
1. Eat less
2. Don't ask for money all the time
3. Are easier to train
4. Normally come when called
5. Never ask to drive the car
6. Don't hang out with drug-using friends
7. Don't smoke or drink
8. Don't have to buy the latest fashions
9. Don't want to wear your clothes
10. Don't need a gazillion dollars for college, and...
11. If they get pregnant, you can sell their children

Until one has loved an animal, part of his soul remains unawakened.

WHEN I WAS JUST A KID





MEMORIES and ~~~I WAS HONKIN' FAT!

Yes, that's me as a baby, then a "kid", then a young lady with long hair. Oh me, oh my! Where has the time gone? Did I mention that I'm going to be ***60*** on August 26? Yes, that's right ~~ SIXTY! (See my post of a few days ago.)

Recently, I did an interview for someone's blog and the theme was: "When I Was a Kid..." The questions certainly stirred a host of memories for me. On my actual birthday, I'll post the interview, so come back if you want to read my answers.

Anyway...in response to this interview I had to go in search of some old photos of me, and what a time I had trying to find them. Mission accomplished, though, photos scanned, and there they are!

More later...must get my beauty rest in preparation for my "big day"! My daughters are treating me to a trip to Chicago. I am sooooo excited about this little 'getaway'!

Hugs...

YIPPEE-SKIPPY! MY BOOK IS AVAILABLE!

Long Journey Home is available for immediate shipping on Amazon! It won't hit store shelves till September 1, so I was surprised to see Amazon ahead of the game--and excited--and BLESSED BEYOND MEASURE!

Long Journey Home is the first manuscript I ever wrote back in 2000. Retirement from teaching was still a couple years out, but I started praying that God would lay a new passion on my heart in preparation for leaving teaching. Well, I started having a recurring dream that I'd written a novel, which seemed a little odd to me since I hadn't dabbled in fiction writing since high school!!!!! But remembering that I'd asked God for a new passion, I decided to try my hand at writing a story. About a month later, a full 90K word novel emerged (I've never written that fast since!), and my passion was born! Now, I'm delighted to say that manuscript has found a home -- WHITAKER HOUSE PUBLISHING asked to pub it between my two series, and I was thrilled. (Thank You, Jesus!)

Soooo, if you're interested, go to www.amazon.com, plug Sharlene MacLaren into the search space, and my books will pop up. Scroll down to Long Journey Home and wa-lah!

I LOVE YOU ALL!

AUGUST ALREADY?!

One of my dear friends would have to bring up the fact that it is almost August. In fact, by the time you read this, it WILL be! It's almost midnight as I write this, and almost time to flip the calendar page.

I used to love August. Why? Because it's my birthday month, and who doesn't love their birthday month? ME now. I am getting so old that I should really think about rolling back my odometer. Is that legal to do? The other day I was browsing through the antique store and they wanted to KEEP me!

I remember our first black and white TV, Bob Hope, Red Skelton, Bing Crosby, Doris Day, Rock Hudson, Annette Funicello (she was a mouseketeer!), Father Knows Best, My Three Sons, Mayberry, The Hardy Boys, and Loretta Young...

I remember when bread was four loaves for a dollar, gas wars, (yes, 27-cents a gallon!), fishing with my daddy, Dick and Jane, Think and Do books, Old Yeller, watching Mommy sit at the sewing machine, Fury, My Friend Flicka, Howdy Doody, The Yearling, our first console stereo (we called it a hi-fi, which stood for high-fidelity!)...

I remember going to church twice on Sunday, Wednesday night prayer meetings, and never missing a night of week-long revival services (yawn), ginger snaps, penny candy, two-cent suckers (tootsie roll pops), running barefoot down our dirt road, and Daddy whistling while he worked around the house on Saturdays, his shirt-sleeves rolled up past his elbows, his old pants sagging at the waist. I remember...

OH, OH, OH! IT'S MIDNIGHT. And officially August.

This is my big year. I have truly passed the halfway point, probably the two-thirds, maybe the three-quarters. I am going to be 6-0 this month, and that feels geezerish!

I sound like I'm complaining, but I'm not really. I just put on a good act. I am truly happy and contented to be where I am. Every stage of my life has been a blessing, even the difficult times, because I've truly discovered God's faithfulness in all situations, and more so the older I get. Now I DO sound geezerish! But it's the plain truth.

Yes, I'm going to be older than rocks, but that's okay. With God, my marvelous HUNKY hubby and darling family at my side, why should it matter? I have it all -- not wealth and possessions, mind you -- but GOD and family, the things that make you RICH without having all the money.

I LOVE LIFE AND ALL OF YOU, and suddenly I LOVE that I'm going to be 60!!!!!!!!

HANNAH GRACE, Book One of "The Daughters of Jacob Kane" coming in January 2009!

Here are a couple of images I thought you might like to see. First, my upcoming book, Long Journey Home, hitting shelves in late August, early September. Then a sneak peek of the first book in my next series, Hannah Grace, from the Daughters of Jacob Kane! Of course, that one doesn't come out till next January '09!

Come on over to my website(s) if you want to get some synopses of these upcoming books! Go to either of these locations by copying and pasting the following addresses into your browser:

www.sharlenemaclaren.com
www.shoutlife.com/sharlenemaclaren

Love you all!
Shar

SARAH, MY BELOVED EARNS NOMINATION FOR BEST "LONG HISTORICAL"!

May I make a little announcement that literally thrills me to the bone and sends me to my knees in gratitude to my Heavenly Father?

This year’s Romance Writers of America National Conference will take place in San Francisco in July. Here they will announce the winner of the Inspirational Readers’ Choice Contest, which is the “Faith, Hope, and Love” division of RWA and open to authors of inspirational novels published in 2007. About a week ago, I received word that judges of this contest nominated Sarah, My Beloved for the “Long Historical” category. Can you believe it? I can’t! In fact, my little mind is blown away! GONE! (grins)

No, I will NOT be attending the awards dinner. *You will note there are four finalists in my category, which means there is a tie for third place. I fully expect to land in the third place tie and will GLADLY and humbly accept that honor, but I don’t think it warrants my flying to San Francisco for one night! (And, no, I am not the least bit sorry about not going.)

Here are all the IRCC finalists and their categories:

Long Contemporary:
Surrender Bay by Denise Hunter (Thomas Nelson)
Too Good To Be True by Trish Perry (Harvest House)
Taming Rafe by Susan May Warren (Tyndale House)

Long Historical: (3rd Place Tie)
Remembered by Tamera Alexander (Bethany House)
Petticoat Ranch by Mary Connealy (Barbour)
Lady of Milkweed Manor by Julie Klassen (Bethany House)
Sarah, My Beloved by Sharlene MacLaren (Whitaker House)

Women's Fiction:
Let Them Eat Cake by Sandra Byrd (Waterbrook)
The Oak Leaves by Maureen Lang (Tyndale House)
Remember to Forget by Deborah Raney (Howard)

Short Contemporary:
Simple Gifts by Lori Copeland (Zondervan)
Forever Christmas by Christine Lynxwiler (Barbour)
Mom in the Middle by Mae Nunn (Steeple Hill)

Short Historical:
Bluebonnet Belle by Lori Copeland (Steeple Hill)
The Lumberjack's Lady by Susan Page Davis (Barbour)
The Bounty Hunter and the Bride by Vicki McDonough (Barbour)

Romantic Suspense:
Buried Secrets by Margaret Daley (Steeple Hill)
Nowhere to Hide by Debby Giusti (Steeple Hill)
Ransomed Dreams by Amy Wallace (Multnomah)

Novella:
Unwrapping Christmas by Lori Copeland (Zondervan)
The Spinster and the Lawyer by Jeri Odell (Barbour)
Moonlight and Mistletoe by Carrie Turansky (Barbour)

Thank you ever so much for indulging me as I share my joy. God is so amazing to have given me this passion to write! And it is solely for His honor, glory, and the furthering of His Kingdom that I put my fingers to the keyboard!

LETTER TO A "TIRED" TEACHER
By Sharlene MacLaren

A very dear teacher friend wrote and asked me to pray for her in these final days of school. She didn't crawl into bed until 2:30 this morning, as she had a mountain of paperwork to complete, grades to compile, and tests still needing scoring. She was worried she wouldn't have clarity of thought today, or even the strength or wherewithal to make it through another school day. You teachers know what I'm talking about--or maybe you spouses of teachers. As requested, I sat at my computer and prayed for her, and then I wrote her a note of encouragement. ((Please feel free to copy and pass this on to any and ALL teachers you know who might need a gentle word.))

---------------------------------------------------------------------

My dear friend, I surely will pray for you -- and am right now in fact! As I am praying, a few things come to mind for you to do in these final days and hours, and so I'll share them.

First, take a long look at each student, or as many as you can, and figure out how they made a difference in your life this year. Did he/she make you a better person by maybe growing your patience, or making you smile or laugh? Did anyone make you shed a tear or maybe cause your heart to grow a couple sizes with some heart-wrenching story?

Second, did any of them make you proud, more contented in your job than you ever thought possible, or give you just the exact lift you needed for that particular day?

Third, which students did you pinpoint at the beginning of the year as ANNOYING, only to discover them on your "very secret" end-of-the-year favorite list? (These are the ones you want to make sure you hug tightly at that last goodbye, for they taught you a few things maybe you can't even fully identify yet.)

Fourth, think about who surprised you most with his/her academic growth? Point-blank, who grew up before your very eyes in the past nine months? Then think about this -- YOU aided in that growth!

Fifth, which students do you look at, maybe point at with a mental finger, and say to yourself, "That is why I LOVE teaching!" You're going to have the sour grapes mixed in the fruit salad, the apple slices with the black spots in the center, the not-so-sweet melon wedges, but most of the salad is going to be DELICIOUS. Same with the students who walk through your door each year. Some make the chore of showing up every day a bit of a task, and, let's face it; some of their parents are just as bad! But the majority you will wind up loving by the end of May, and your heart will squeeze a little when they look at you and say, "Good-bye, have a great summer!"

My friend, these thoughts just tumbled off the top of my head this morning, so I thought I'd mention them to you. I know how very overwhelming the end of the year can be. I experienced it 31 times! Live each final moment slowly and deliberately. As the old saying goes, "Don't forget to stop and smell the roses." In your case, "Don't forget to stop and study each young face--and thank the Lord for the blessed opportunity He gave you by placing them in your care for one entire school year." Without knowing it, you made a HUGE positive difference in your students' lives. HUGE! What did they do to make you better?

Blessings for a PERFECT student sendoff and then a much-needed, relaxing, joy-filled, splendid, sunshiny summer!

Hugs and prayers,
Shar

THERE IS NO ONE QUITE LIKE HER...



ON MAY 12, 1913, DOROTHY MAY HESSELBART CAME INTO THE WORLD, a bouncing, happy baby girl, sweet from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, and remaining as such for the next 95 years! How do I know this? Because she is my mother, and I've watched her live her life. She has always been gentle, loving, soft-spoken, passionate about serving the Lord, an avid reader, a constant learner, a model of utmost patience, a strong support to her family, a sweet companion, hard-working and diligent, talented in a myriad of ways (playing the piano, singing, sewing, crocheting, knitting, cooking, baking, and the list goes on!) She's been my friend, a wonderful listener, a great conversationalist, a wise decision maker, a sweet comfort and a strong encourager. It is impossible to put into a few words all the many things she has meant to me.

My mother has Alzheimer's and, most days, seems to be in the final stages of the dreaded disease, if sleeping her life away is any indication. This picture, however, was taken on one of her 'better days', a few weeks before her 95th birthday. It was the day we introduced her to another of her great-grandchildren. Rarely does she speak a coherent word, but this particular day, she looked down at Gavin and said, "Oh, isn't he cute?" AMAZING!

She does not know who I am--only that I'm someone safe. She cannot call anyone by name, but will occasionally still say, "Jesus." It is a mysterious, heart-wrenching, disgusting, painful, debilitating, incurable, unstoppable disease -- and yet at the same time it has taught me things. Things like compassion and understanding, patience, endurance, kindness, and gentleness. It has taught me how to love on deeper levels. When I go to visit Mom I try to take time to speak with the other residents, smile, pass out hugs, say a comforting word. I seek out the staff and try to encourage them, thank them for all they've done and continue to do.

If I search for a "why" in all of this, the only thing I can come up with is that the rest of us have gained from all that she's endured.

For that, I say, "Thank you, Mom." Thank you for enduring, for suffering, for going through these trials so that the rest of us could develop stronger character.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom, and a blessed 95th birthday. I love you, and I rise up and call you blessed.

Your loving daughter...
Shar

EVERYTHING’S COMIN’ UP ROSES!

I looked out my dining room window today to find the dogwood tree in full bloom. And out the big front picture window, my huge magnolia fairly exploding with vibrant pink flowers. When did this happen? Overnight? Daffodils, crocus, forsythia, and tulips -- they're all popping out at once.

Everything's comin' up roses!

I love driving down our tree-lined streets on the way to town. Just weeks ago, those trees stood barren, their long, skinny branches draped across the road, showing no signs of life. Today they stand in almost prideful wonder, displaying lush, verdant leaves. They seem to be shouting, "Look at me, I made it through another harsh winter! And I'm growing taller and stronger every year!"

This is life...one day, cold and despairing, and the next, rich and full with hope and expectation.

Maybe you're going through one of those shivery, fearful, bleak spells right now. You look around and everything appears hopeless and dead. Your heart literally hurts, your stomach ties itself in knots, your head throbs with the ache of trying to stay strong.

Look up! God is there! He is standing in the shadows, waiting, ready to help; His ear turned toward your cries. He is your strength in times of trouble. The Word tells us that when we are weak, His strength is made perfect. In other words, we are at our strongest when we admit our weakness and surrender everything into His very capable hands--allow Him to breathe new life into our barren limbs!

We grow through these fruitless, hard, grueling times. And we come out stronger and better. Romans 8:28(a) says, "And we know that ALL things work together for good to them who love the Lord..."

Believe it! Whatever you may be going through right now, IT IS TEMPORARY, you will get through it.

"When I cry unto the Lord, then shall my enemies turn back; this I know, for God is FOR me. In God I have put my trust: I will not be afraid..." Psalm 56: 9, 11

A newlywed couple had the worst time communicating. It seemed like every time they had a disagreement, it turned into a major fight--except their fights always wound up being the pouty kind where each gave the other the silent treatment.

Sometimes these "spats" could last for days. During one such spell, the husband had an early morning appointment and didn't want to oversleep, so he left a note for his wife that said, "Wake me up at 5 a.m. I have a meeting at 6." He put the note on her pillow so she'd be sure to see it. Indeed, when she came to bed, she picked up the note, read it, and quietly nodded.

Good, the husband thought. She'll wake me in the morning and this silent treatment business will finally come to an end.

The next morning, the husband awakened at 9 a.m. He had missed his appointment! Lying on the pillow beside him was a note, and scribbled on it were the words, "It's 5 a.m. Wake up."

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A far-fetched story? Perhaps. But in some ways very realistic. Ever give someone you love the silent treatment? Maybe someone's hurt or disappointed you and your stubborn refusal to talk is your way of "getting even". When my husband and I married over 32 years ago, we had a few "silent" battles of our own. Neither one of us has ever been the "yelling" type, so we showed our anger in quiet ways -- punishing the other with silence. Thank God we've "outgrown" that silly behavior, learning the importance of communicating our hurts, disappointments, and, yes, sometimes our anger.

I think of all the times in my life I've given God the silent treatment. Battles I tried to win in my own strength, problems I tried to solve by myself, paths I tried to carve out without His clear guidance or direction.

How many times I've tripped and fallen flat on my face simply because I didn't seek Him first!

"Lord, remind me when I fail to acknowledge You. Nudge me, poke me, wake me up if needs be--but please don't let me get away with giving you the silent treatment."

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"Show me your ways, Oh, Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth, for You are God, my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long." Psalm 25:4,5

This "Iffy, Spiffy, Sniffy" Month... Friday, April 18, 2008 - 9:30 PM

Michigan has been having some lovely weather the past several days, and in Michigan we TREASURE glorious spring days. Why? Because April is that very "iffy" month. One day spiffy as a brand new penny--simply golden, sunny and teasingly warm, and the next, cold as a landlord's heart. No kidding! It can be convertible-top down on Monday and heaters at full-blast Tuesday. But we're so excited about seeing the sunshine that we Michiganders can take a few cold days mixed in with the warm (even a couple more snowflakes) 'cause we know we're in for a whoppin' good summer.

BEST KEPT SECRET: Michigan summers are almost always AMAZINGLY WARM AND WONDERFUL! April to October = Glorious

Can you tell I love spring? Everything about it speaks of new beginnings. It's almost like New Years' Day, in fact--when you get that chance to start all over. Spring is that time of fresh beginnings, new sights to see, new scents to sniff, new grass to touch. (Remember those first days, as a child, of skipping barefoot through the grass, that splendid tickling, daring feeling of shedding shoes and socks and running laps around the house? Wasn't it marvelous?)

I think God created spring so we could experience His creation through bright, hopeful eyes. Yes, winter is long and grueling, especially for we northerners, but the promise of spring and new life somehow charges our weak batteries, gives us newfound strength -- puts the vigor back in our steps!

Yes, April may be "Iffy", but it's wrapped up in promises, and it's a special reminder, to me anyway, of God's faithful, ever-present love and goodness.

A Happy, Blessed, Joy-filled spring to all of you!

With love and warm-weather hugs...

OKAY, I ADMIT IT – I AM IMMATURE!

I am way more than a grown woman. I'm going to be 60 years old this summer! I'M A GRANDMOTHER, for Pete's sake. So why do I still find myself doing the most childish things just to get a laugh? My darling hubby is forever pressing me in the side during church--or at funerals or weddings--if I start talking to someone next to me, or, worse, get the giggles. (IMAGINE! Who does he think he is???)

Well, onto my story...

Tonight, I was sitting in a very important church business meeting with about 200 in attendance (IN THE SECOND ROW, OF COURSE), my best girlfriend, Debbie, and her hubby sitting on my right, my husband up on the platform discussing church budget matters. I mean this is serious. He is our church administrator.

Out of boredom, I looked in my purse for a mint and laid eyes on a little McDonalds' toy my grandson had gotten in a Happy Meal last week when Cecil and I took him to lunch. It is the butt-ugliest little toy I've ever seen. It must be a character from some movie, but I haven't the first clue which one. It's hot pink and black and round, and has these weird little moveable arms that when you pull them upward, a LOUD song comes blaring out. I knew this, of course.

Feeling mischievous, I handed the toy to my girlfriend and whispered, "Here's a present for you."

She picked it up, studied it, smiled, and said, "Gee, thanks. What is it?"

"I don't know. It's Dylan's. It's been in my purse since Saturday. Isn't it weird looking?"

"It's a little disco dancer or something."

She tossed the toy on the pew and gave her full attention back to my "serious" husband.

The place was just too quiet for its own good. I mean, really.

DON'T ask me why I did it, but I reached down and pulled that toy's arms up. I knew what would happen, mind you, but something in me just wanted to create a stir. I'm naughty, what can I say?

Well, the LOUD blast from that hideous little toy vibrated our pew. Debbie nearly jumped out of her pants and started giggling while I fussed with the thing, trying to find an OFF button. There had to be one somewhere, but nope. It was one of those toys that HAS to play itself out to the bitter end. The pews behind us started cracking up. One lady leaned forward and whispered, "I've known for years someone should've separated you two!"

Well, our shoulders shook for the next three minutes while my husband tried to conduct business. My mascara ran, and so did Debbie's, but oh well. What about my Debbie's hubby, Rich? I think he moved about three feet away from us.

After the meeting, someone came up to me and said, "Haven't you learned yet how to put that thing on vibrator mode?" Hahaha! He thought it was my cell phone ringing. I love that.

I know your question--was Cecil mad at me for causing the disruption? Nope. After 32 years, he's learned I'm a bit hard to control at times, and he just accepts it and loves me anyway!

And so does my Heavenly Father. WOW!

Isn't it great that with all our quirks, faults, goofiness, mistakes, and imperfections, we can still count on our God to love us unconditionally? Whew! I'd be up a crick if He didn't.

LOVE AND BIG HUGS...

Shar