Uplifting Others

It has been something that rankles me, how other Christian authors consider this profession as a competition. I would think this if I were in the secular, aka general, market where I was up against other authors and trying to make my name known and my book sold; but, I am in a Christian market where our first and foremost thought, at least I would assume it to be, is to glorify Jesus Christ and lift up His name.

When Paul wrote his letters and traveled from place to place, he did not begrudge Peter, Barnabas, or Timothy as they traveled to places, too. No. He lifted them up in prayer knowing that what they did benefited all and glorified Christ. He didn't see these men as competition, but as brothers.

That's how I see my fellow CBA authors: as brothers and sisters in Christ. When I share their books, their successes, their posts, their news, I am sharing a portion of the gospel so that it will reach others. I'm thrilled to share those books that I have read and loved. And if a person chooses their book over mine, I am happy for that author. Do I feel saddened that I wasn't chosen?

Well, yeah. A wee bit. But it may be that my book wasn't what was needed for that person, but the other book was. And that is what I am elated to rejoice in.

To me, by sharing another author's book, I am sharing a message that glorifies Christ and may help another. As Christians we are to uplift each other. And for each act of kindness, blessings unfold exponentially. (which I see like this: for 1 act, there are 2 blessings. For 2 acts, there are 4 blessings. For 4 acts, there are 16 blessings. For 16 acts, there are 256 blessings, and so on.)

We may never see each and every blessing, but they are there. And if you really sit back and think, helping out another makes you feel good, and I mean really good. You are happier. Everything starts to look brighter. That is because we are concentrating on the positive, and not the negative.

So when you get a chance to help out another author, do it. Share that story. It may be just the one that leads another person to Christ. And do not forget, that person may also want to read your book, too.

Those Nasty Little Grudges

I used to think I didn't hold grudges for that long, until today. At times I find myself plucking that little dark morsel from my heart and reexamining it. Usually this happens after reading an article or seeing a post.

 

When I was 9 I had a teacher call me a liar in front of my classmates. She also treated the "richer" kids nicer than those of us who were poor. She made me feel dumb and mortified when I was presenting a project in front of my classmates about my father's job. I worked so hard to build a shadow box about him. She belittled my ignorance between "construction" and "steel construction". I was given an "F"; but after my mother met with the principle, all the "poor" kids who received "Fs" received an "A". There was only two grades: 100 for a completed project and 50 for no project. I held a grudge against her. And find myself still disliking her for the damage she did to the other children.

 

When I was 17 I had a teacher that didn't like what I wrote in English class because it scored higher than her favorite students. She changed the wording in my submission and made it sound horrible. (Of course I changed it back for the final submission). She also tried to keep from joining her class, but after my recommendations and scores she had to allow me. She treated the poorer students like they were beneath her. I've seen her scoff at other students for what they wore. I've seen her label them as unworthy. I held a grudge against her for her harmful actions against others, and for making them feel less.

When I was in my 20s, my son's grandmother made life difficult. She went to any and all lengths to tear my son away from me. In the end she lost, thanks to my wonderful family. I've seen her cheat cleaners on a bill. I've seen her treat the working class as less than she (even though she was a blue collar worker herself). I still dislike her and see her as nothing but evil. That grudge still seems to stick around.

 

When I was in my 30s I had a boyfriend who owed me lots of money, and when I got it back he stole it back from me (literally taking it out of my account or out of the books I kept my rainy day funds in). Plus, I had believed his lies. That's on me. But it's knowing his true self that I hold a grudge against.

 

I'm in my early 40s now and I still have one more grudge that I don't like to talk about, but nevertheless it is there. It bothers me most of all, but I am learning to deal it with.

So when I look at the grudges, I see them for what they are. Not grudges at all. But memories and lessons learned about the injustice and harmful ways of others. Lessons that I can reexamine to insure that I don't make the same mistakes or treat someone as badly as the person treated me. It makes me empathetic to others. Lessons that help me understand the motives or reasoning behind the person's actions.

And I realize, I no longer dislike the person. I dislike their actions and the harm it did. We may forgive, but we don't forget. That is how we prevent ourselves from falling into the same trap of the past. 

 

Maybe those grudges aren't so nasty after all. If we don't let them eat at us, they can stay around to help us grow. And every once in a while, when I pluck that little grudge from the darkest corner of my heart, I can then decide, "does this grudge help or hinder?". I will keep those that help and cast away those that hinder. 

 

Like a piece of dandelion fluff, I can blow it into the wind and let it be carried far away from me.

To End the Year

To end this year I decided against a post. Instead, I am sharing 10 videos that I have come to love during the 2016 year. Each one tells a story and each one is unique. I hope you enjoy the music. 

The 2016 Top 10 Songs

 1: Lauren Daigle - Come Alive (Dry Bones)

2: The Afters - Live on Forever

3: Unspoken - Open the Clouds

4: Ryan Stevenson - Eye of the Storm

5: Skillet - Stars

6: Switchfoot - Live It Well

7: Need to Breathe - Happiness

8: Hawk Nelson - Diamonds

9: Capital Kings - Believer

10: For King & Country- Shoulders

 

Christmastime in Iowa

The snow has fallen. Wind chills have dipped to negative temperatures. And we still vacant our domiciles and venture into the shopping world. That is life in Iowa. A little snow (about a foot or more) won't hinder us a bit, maybe delay us, slow us down, but not hinder.

I think it is different for true Iowans rather than transplants; but we hang in there with the best of them (although sometimes we seem to be more layered clothing-wise than they).

Yesterday we spent a little time at the mall shopping for each other. With not a lot of money, wise choices had to be made. For some reason my husband thinks shopping for me is hard. That I don't understand. I appreciate any gift given. From rocks to books, from house shoes to a scarf, and anywhere in between. I like sparkles, the color white, psychedelic patterns and colors, books, music, little blankets or pillows, snowglobes/waterglobes/globes, and even maps. In other words, to me a gift from the heart is more priceless than the greatest ruby. 

I found a few things for my husband today, too. Hit a deal that scored a freebie item, one that was severely discounted, and another by using some rewards points that I had garnered.  Found exactly what I wanted to give to my son.

But Christmas isn't about presents under the tree. That is just a perk of the holiday. The ultimate present is Jesus. Born to die for us and to be set as King of all nations.
 
I love this holiday. The lights, the snow and weather, the tree, the warm cocoa, the music and art, but most of all, the love that this holiday has the ability to show.

As the year closes, and as I read my one book that I always love to read at this time of year, I can reflect that through the grace of Christ, born unto us as our Saviour, this year was a pretty good year.

Give the Gift of Books

Christmas has always been a wonderful time to me. I love the lights, the decorations, the music, and most of all the love. Even though it seems that each year the Christmas seems to become more commercialize, I have seen a resurgence of the true meaning of Christmas. 

When it comes to gifts, a lot of gifts are not needed nor should it be practiced. Instead, think of the wise men and how their three gifts were precious in the sight of God.

To help with choosing a few gifts, I am listing a few books that I have found that would be enjoyed. Click the link to connect with the author via social media. And help support an author this Christmas and buy one of the books. 

Romance:

Summer's Flame by Wendy Davy

Surrender to Peace by Rose Allen McCauley

Caged Dove by Andrea Rodgers

Tapestry of Trust by Mary Annslee Urban

From Dishes to Snow by Kathy M. Howard

Contemporary (some with a romance thread)

Flabbergasted by Ray Blackston

Mississippi Nights by D.M. Webb

Fixing Perfect by Therese M. Travis

The 17 by Clint Kelly

Futuristic/Speculative/YA/Supernatural

Wake the Dead by Victoria Buck

Vanquished by Katie Clark

The Watchman by V.B. Tenery

Historical/Historical Romance

The Madonna of Pisano by MaryAnn Diorio

Mail Order Surprise by Lucy Thompson

Lightning on a Quiet Night by Donn Taylor

These are just a few books selected from the reviews from Rebel Book Reviews. I hope you would choose at least one, if not more, for those special Christmas presents.
 

Christmas Excerpt from 30 Days: A Devotional Memoir

30 Days: A Devotional Memoir

(Ambassador International 2013)

Luke 2:14

"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."

This is a story told by my mother to all of her children. This is a story that helped to make sense why every Christmas we had an orange. And no other orange would smell as sweet, taste as soothing, and feel as smooth as that Christmas orange.

 

~~~~~~~

The Christmas Orange by Betty Sue Tutor

I grew up in a large family. As a large, poor family we seldom had a Christmas tree, much less Christmas toys. We waited for Santa Claus, but usually we got an orange and a note promising presents "next year". The Christmas that always stood out in my mind was when I was around three years old.

I remember waking up on Christmas morning and seeing a lot of cars and trucks in the yard. We didn't own a vehicle, so even a few cars would seem like a lot to me back then. We had just moved into the community and had very few household items. I remember walking into a room that must have been a living room without furniture, and there were several people sitting around on the floor with boxes of food, toys, presents, fruit, and clothes in front of them.

My mom was sitting in a straight-back chair hold the baby, and someone asked, "Which one is Betty Sue?" My older sister pushed me towards the person, but I was reluctant to go as I was a very shy child. My mom encouraged me to go to them. The person who asked for me showed me a box with my name on it and said it was for me. The one thing that caught my eye was an orange. I grabbed the orange and bit into the peeling. Nothing else mattered but that orange.

The people who came that Christmas morning were from a local church. And they had heard of a poor family that had a lot of kids without a Christmas...and that was the best Christmas I ever had.

This memory had helped me understand missionaries, missions, and the true meaning of Christmas. These people were simple ordinary people going about the Lord's work, and none of them knew the impact they had on my life nor the influence they had on me as a Christian.

I shared this memory with my mom and older sister when I was eighteen years old. They were both surprised I could remember that Christmas, since I was only three years old. My mom filled me in on the circumstances: how the church had heard from the farmer, on whose land we were living, about how we were poor, without food and without winter clothing. She said she cried that day thanking God for sending those people to help us and told me to keep this memory, to share it with my kids...I did, and I have.

Every Christmas I look forward to my Christmas orange, and every Christmas I find my orange under the tree, even if I have to put it there myself on Christmas Eve. A bag of oranges can sit on my counter, but the one that tastes the best is the one I find under my Christmas tree on Christmas morning.

Praise God for ordinary people willing to go about doing the Lord's work, and thank God for Christmas morning and my Christmas orange.

~~~~~~~

 

This memory of my mom's happened in 1955. And I still do not tire of reading her words. I am reminded of how in our daily life we touch the lives of others. We may never know it and may never will, but if we live our lives as Christ-centered as possible, then good things will always happen. 

 

I love my Christmas orange and still like to put them under the tree for my family. What about you? Is there a Christmas memory that holds a special place in your memory?

 

Why I Could Never

In this world today people take offense to the littlest of things and nothing more so than someone standing for her beliefs. And if that belief is a Christian belief, then the hateful mocking becomes worse.

As a Christian I know why this happens. Jesus said the world would hate us because the world first hated Him. And why would the servant be better than the Master? 

One instance of this is my stance against Planned Parenthood. For a place that states that it is there for women healthcare, their main goal is the killing of the unborn, which is also known as abortion.

I won't go into the facts or sources; those can be found by anyone by using any search engine option on the internet. And I won't go into why abortion of any type is against Christian beliefs. Anyone can enter into the same search engines and find passages about how God formed us and knew us in the womb. And those scriptures will lead the person willing to learn to other verses.

What I want to talk about is why I would never and why I could never commit murder (have an abortion). 

Some people may say it's because I haven't experienced a situation that warranted an abortion; such as, rape, incest, or life threatening to the mother or baby. Do people really know another?? Don't you think there are things within a person's life that you have no idea about because it was never spoken about?

For me it was the December of 2015. Some people, mainly close friends and close family, knew about it, but I don't know if I ever told them the seriousness of what transpired.

 ......................................................................................................

Late that December night I called my husband after calling another family member who couldn't come to my aid. I waited in extreme pain, doubled over the tub in my bathroom, not able to move, as he rushed home from work at the hospital only to take me to the hospital he had left. The pain was horrible. Worse than I have ever felt. Worse than a migraine or a gallbladder attack.

Through triage and into a room, where they pumped medication in me, but the pain never subsided. A CT scan was scheduled and the urine pregnancy test was pending. When I arrived in radiology, I was immediately wheeled back to my room when the pregnancy test came back positive. 

I was elated; and yet, foreboding settled onto my heart. Why the pain? Something had to be wrong. A transvaginal ultrasound was ordered and within moments the tech was there. She took the ultrasound; the ER doctor read the results and rushed out of the room. Within moments again the OB on call came to our room.

Yes, I was pregnant. But it was an ectopic pregnancy. For those who don't know what that is: it is a serious condition where the fertilized egg doesn't make it to the uterus, but instead implants into the Fallopian tube. There is no such thing as reimplantation or moving the embryo to the uterus (maybe in the future but not in today's medical world). 

Surgery was needed. But I was crying. No, I wouldn't have surgery, not if there was a heartbeat. You see, I was far enough along, at least 6 weeks, that the embryo (baby) would have a heartbeat and a heartbeat meant it was alive. 

I was adamant. No surgery. Not while the baby was alive. I didn't care that I would die if the tube ruptured, which was about to happen. The pain was that severe because the tube was on the verge of rupturing.

The OB doctor consulted the readouts, viewed the ultrasound, and assured me, with tears in his own eyes, that the baby had already died.

I underwent surgery; scared, terrified, heartbroken.

And the tube had ruptured right as they prepared to remove it.

And while I slept through recovery, the doctor brought surgery photos out to my husband to show what had happened and that there was not viable baby. Days later I received a copy of the pathology report citing that there were no viable tissue found, in other words, the baby had died long before I felt the pain.
 .......................................................................................................

What does this story mean? 

I was willing to face death, knowing it would be my baby and I who died. I was not willing to kill my child within me just to save my life. To me, that is selfish. I would not destroy an innocent life in order to extend my own.

But what about my other children, my youngest son? They would be cared for and loved. I had dedicated them to the Lord long ago and trusted the Lord to protect them. I would never kill an innocent just to live a few more days with them, especially since our tomorrows are never promised.

God knew my stance against abortion. And even though He removed that choice from me, I did not know it at that time.

How much can I stress that I could never have an abortion? And I find it a horrible act against the most innocent of all. That is why I stand against Planned Parenthood. And if that makes me an enemy to another, makes another call me "dense", "living in a bubble", or having "one-sided logic", then that is what I will be.

I've faced that decision, and I've made the right choice. I chose life, even though that life was taken from me. Standing for a belief takes strength and determination. And I urge all Christians who truly follow Christ to do so. Never lose hope.