A Day in the Life of a Tiny Violinist

I will play my violin in the van

 

 Yes, even in the store, if I can.

I must play it on the go

Especially with my Grandma Bean, by jove.

 

 Daddy too

And with Simon by my side, yahoo!

Even when I go to sleep, my violin I will keep.

What's a writer to do when . . . ?

What's a writer to do when all she has to look at are legs and feet?

She pulls out her notepad and describes what she sees. 

That writer was me last night during an electrical storm at Salem Civic Center. My husband, Chuck, and I sat on the hillside in our beach chairs watching the Drum and Bugle Corp perform when over the loud speaker the announcer warned everyone to seek shelter under the cement awning of the stadium.

Chuck and I grabbed our belongings and set up our chairs against a wooden table in the shelter. As we watched the sky morph into a patchwork of blues and grays, the space around us filled in, bodies pressing against one another. Thunder cracked and lightening split the sky, then rain pellets like falling stars dripped from the awning. 

Our ears buzzed with the rush of the rain and the roar of conversation coming from the crowd. I plugged my ears with old tissue I salvaged from my purse and decided to hunker down and make the best of it until the storm subsided. 

In the cramped quarters, I pulled out my notepad and proceeded to jot down observations. Since I sat in one of those beach chairs designed to wedge in the sand on the shoreline, I sat low, really low. 

Perhaps someday, what I jotted about ankles, legs, and shoes will come in handy in a novel. :)

Full legs, skinny legs, hairy legs--mostly belonging to youth with smooth, taut skin. Quilt pattern Keds. Leather cowgirl boots. Velcro sneakers. White-laced sneakers in navy and black. Various forms of sandals--some with bejeweled straps. Striped Reeboks. An ankle with delicate flower tattoo. 

When I exhausted my description on feet and legs, I lifted my gaze to heads. Boys with buzz haircuts, simple chains around their necks. Glasses with striped earpieces. Ear buds. Lots of tee-shirts in varying sizes, shapes, and colors, mostly dark shades. Cut-off jeans. French braids on the side of one head, tied in to a back ponytail. Long curly hair under a cowboy hat. An occasional cell phone chat, but not as much as I would have expected. A teen nibbling her nails, sunglasses anchored on the top of her head. A boy with water or sweat, probably both, dribbling off his hair and face, damp tee-shirt clinging to his chest.

This little distraction saved my sanity during the confinement, and before long, the rain stopped and we headed back to our hillside view of the bands. 

My favorite: Carolina Crown with their elegant cream-colored uniforms etched in gold and white- plumed hats. Quite the creative performance, which included about six guys twirling massive silver cubes that glimmered under the stadium lights. Unfortunately, I didn't get a pic of them, but here are two other bands that played during the evening. The shots honestly don't do justice to these amazing bands! The sound, the precision, the color, the artistry--truly spectacular! I have yet to hear who won the competition, but my guess is Carolina Crown.

So, writer buds (and anyone else for that matter) who may need a diversion while waiting in uncomfortable circumstances, pull out your notepad and hone your description skills.

And if you notice a lot of references to legs, feet, and ankles in my next novel, well, now you'll know why.

Daddy's Hands

Often my grandchildren ask me to tell them a story about when I was a little girl. Here is one of their favorites in honor of my Daddy, now in heaven with His Lord. I wrote the piece when he was 87.

DADDY’S HANDS

Eileen Rife © 2000

A large hand reached down to grasp my small hand. My daddy was walking me to school. I looked up at him in wonder. He was so tall. So strong. Dark wavy hair framed his tanned face. Deep blue eyes twinkled in the morning light. A whistle spewed from his lips. I felt safe. My daddy was with me.

           

Lost in my reflection, I suddenly felt daddy's hand gently release mine and nudge me inside the school door. As he squeezed me, he planted a warm kiss on my cheek.

My heart sank to let daddy go. I fought back the tears, reassuring myself that I would soon be home again.

The school bell rang and I bolted for the school door. Several yards down the sidewalk, I skidded to a stop. I waited as the traffic light changed from red to green. Then I dashed across the street to Mr. Adam's store, my routine stopping place after a tiring school day.

Inside the store, the aroma of fresh fruit filled my nostrils. I observed Mr. Adams in his blood-stained apron slicing meat behind the glass counter. Up front, the cashier rang up an elderly lady's goods as the bag boy meticulously sorted the items into a bag.

I veered to the right, past the cashier and straight to my favorite aisle--CANDY LANE! My mouth watered as I eyed the chocolate bars, lollipops, and bubble gum.

Mmm, what am I in the mood for today? I pondered. After scanning the goodie buffet, I decided on a two-cent piece of bubble gum--the rectangular pink kind with the twin halves wrapped in cartoon paper. I reached in my pocket to retrieve my money. To my chagrin, my pockets were empty. I frantically racked my brain for a solution. The thought struck that since kind Mr. Adams often gave me candy, he probably wouldn't care if I took this tiny piece of bubble gum. Settled in my mind, I quickly shoved the gum in my pocket and hurried to the door.

Once home, I laid the gum beside my bookbag on the kitchen table and went to the sink to get a drink of water. Just then, daddy entered the kitchen. In his typical booming fashion, he spoke: "How was school today?"

"Fine," I glibly responded.

Daddy glanced at my bookbag and then at the gum. "Where'd you get the gum?" he casually asked.

I set my glass down and slowly turned to face daddy while bracing my body against the counter. A flicker of guilt flashed across my mind. Hot shame started at my neck and crept up into my face.

Clearing my throat, I answered, "At Adam's Store." I hoped daddy would be satisfied with that answer. He wasn't.  He knew he had not given me any treat money that day. Daddy persisted in his line of questioning. All of a sudden, I felt like I'd stepped into a wild west show. I was the bad guy and daddy was the law. I didn't like this show-down. I wanted to run away with the dust at my heels and not look back. But there would be no running today. I was cornered and I knew it.

"Did Mr. Adams give you the gum, Eileen?" daddy asked. My face turned red. I felt hot again. Like a trapped firefly trying to escape from a sealed jar, I longed for release from daddy's questions.

At last I mustered the courage to speak. "Well...no," I stammered, looking down at the floor. I nervously slid one foot back and forth across the tile. "But Mr. Adams always gives us candy anyway," I shot back. My words even sounded hollow to my ears. I knew I was in serious trouble. Daddy placed a high premium on honesty. This act of treachery was going to cost me. I watched daddy's hands. I expected him to spank me. Instead, he reached for the phone and called Mr. Adams.

When daddy hung up the phone, he turned and faced me. "You best take that gum back," he said with resolve. As I started to leave, daddy softened. He took my arm and gently patted my back. "Supper will be ready when you get home," he added.

In that instant, I felt a reassuring love emanating from daddy's hands. He had used his hands not only to instruct, but also to love, reminding me of my heavenly Father. How often God’s Son had used His hands to love people, to teach, to heal, and then to submit to the nails. All for my benefit.

My dad is eighty-seven now. He shuffles when he walks. I take his weak hand in my strong hand. He looks up at me with a smile and that familiar twinkle in his clear blue eyes and I smile back.

“Isn’t God good?” daddy says.

“Yes, daddy, He sure is,” I respond.

Motors, Mice, and Modems

Ah, motors, mice, and modems!

Last week was a doozy! Got in the car to go to Ohio for a family wedding and the car wouldn't start. So, seven of us, including three young grandchildren, piled into the Kramm van (pun intended :)

Given the extreme heat and grandchildren ailments (one hot with fever, and the other dealing with a foot infection on return from Cambodia), we all fared pretty well.

After celebrating with Ben and Casey during their sweet and meaningful wedding and reception, we headed back to Virginia. 

Monday morning, I woke up to a computer malfunction. My six-year old tower, weary and worn, died. Thankfully, my wonderful tech who makes house calls suggested some good buys on computers. So off I headed to Staples and picked out my new HP Pavilion with Windows 7. 

 

On Friday, husband Chuck and I finalized the deal on a 2007 Chevy Cobalt.

 

All this new stuff--thank you, Lord, for providing for our needs--provoked some much-needed cleaning. Both our computer table and desk were so piled with stuff that we couldn't see the surface. 

 

This morning, I pulled out some more books, folders, and promotional materials from a shelf and noticed mice droppings/shreds of paper. Ugh! More cleaning.  Thankfully, the vacuum that needed work got fixed and functioned well for the clean-up job.

 

Of course, one corner leads to another, and another, and another. 

 

Happily, my dear husband jumped on board Saturday and cleaned out file cabinets (his forte'). 

 

Now, our office is looking better than ever!

 

What a way to celebrate 36 years of marriage this month . . . 

 

with motors, mice, and modems. 

Where are you in the journey?

My journey with the Lord began when I was eight years old. My journey into writing started around the same time. That festering desire to put pen to page bubbled throughout the years with a stab at poetry, essays, scripts, newsletters, articles, and books. My journey into novel-writing started in 2005 with my first title, Journey to Judah. Since then, I've published four novels with another contracted through OakTara Publishers.

God's journey for me involves sharing His love and forgiveness through the written and spoken word.

What about you? Have you discovered God's unique journey for you?

Share a bit about your journey and enter to win a copy of CHOSEN ONES, book three in the Born for India trilogy. 

Blurb:

A couple in crisis
A child taken captive

Life in Chennai, India, is complicated. While Maggie and Gavin Munsfield adjust to a new baby, missionary friends, Dan and Yvonne Pratt, experience the heart break of infertility and miscarriage. When their lives intersect with a young girl caught up in the horrors of sex trafficking, each of them will receive a precious gift. But will they find it in their hearts to accept an outcome so different from what they expected and hoped for? 

Here's what others are saying about Chosen Ones: 

Highlights what may be the worst human rights violation in the 21st century--human trafficking. -Barbara Everett, Director, Destiny Rescue USA, Inc.

A shocking portrait of a tragic, real-life crime in order to bring hope and healing to those who suffer from sexual abuse. -Dr. Tim Clinton, President of the nearly 50,000 member American Association of Christian Counselors

Captures the flavor of India and 'speaks up for those who cannot speak for themselves.' -Betty Anne Bantz, author, Secrets of the Heart series 

Another gripping story by Eileen Rife, which kept me engrossed by her vivid word pictures and skillful dealing of difficult issues--barrenness, miscarriage, and human trafficking. I am forever changed by this emotionally tragic story of sexual slavery. The discussion questions at the end of the book make it an excellent choice for group study. -Betty Robertson, author, Changing Places: A Christian's Guide to Caring for Aging Parents

Eileen Rife has placed human faces, good and evil, on one of the world's great social tragedies--huamn slavery. Her 'can't put it down' informative story brings tears of defeat and vistory. May the heightened awareness she brings stimulate action. -Dr. David Peterson, Founder, Total Life Counseling, Inc. and author, Strength from Psalm 23

 

Contest dates: June 28 - July 28. 

Thanks for stopping by to encourage my readers with your journey story!

Welcome, Paula Mowery, author of The Blessing Seer!

Paula Mowery is a pastor’s wife and a homeschool mom. She has always been an avid reader of Christian fiction. She began writing in the area of nonfiction creating three Bible studies which were self-published. However, she crafted fiction stories which she shared with friends and family. When one of her readers encouraged her to pursue publication, she joined American Christian Fiction Writers, learning more about the world of fiction. Her debut work of fiction is a novella published by Harbourlight, a division of Pelican Book Group – THE BLESSING SEER.

Learn more about Paula at her blog – paulamowery.blogspot.com. Read more of her writing in her monthly columns on ChristianMagazine.org.  

Great to have you today, Paula! What inspired you to write The Blessing Seer?

 I was thinking on an illustration I hear pastor's use sometimes. A man went to Heaven and was touring with one of the angels. They arrived at a warehouse filled with beautifully wrapped gifts. The man asked what they were and the angel said: "These are all of the blessings God wants to grant but haven't been asked for." I was thinking about that one night when I went to bed. Not to sound mystical or anything, but God suddenly "downloaded" the whole outline for THE BLESSING SEER into my mind. I had to get up and write it down. Throughout the writing God has taught me what it means to leave my comfort zone and do something significant for Him. I don't ever want to miss out on the blessings God has in store because I didn't ask or didn't obey His directives. The book releases on July 6th and is available from the publisher - www.pelicanbookgroup.com as well as other ebook distributors.

What a gorgeous, eye-catching cover, Paula! Tell us a little bit about THE BLESSING SEER.

When God sends Addy a special messenger who challenges her to step from her comfort zone, she isn’t sure she’s up to the job. She feels inadequate to take on the task of encouraging others, and when she starts seeing visions, she worries she’s losing her mind. Yet, Addy wants only to be used by God, even if that means seeing visions and risking relationship with family and friends. By stepping out on a limb, can Addy really accomplish something significant for God? What effect will her surrender to His will have on those around her? And, what effect will it have on her own life?

Sounds like an interesting read, Paula! Praying that THE BLESSING SEER will touch many hearts, challenging readers to step out of their comfort zones and allow God to use them.

Lovely Afternoon with a Lovely Lady!

What a lovely afternoon with a lovely lady!

 Judi Ehresman, fellow OakTara author of The Hand of God series, shared peach tea, wild berry muffins, and a fruit cup of mango, kiwi, apple, and almonds slices drizzled with honey and a sprinkle of cinnamon with me during a visit in my home today. Our conversation was even more delightful than the food, covering a variety of topics from shop talk to grandparenting to gardening and baking bread. Before we knew it, three hours had passed and it was time to part ways, but not hearts. We closed our day with prayer for one another.

Thanks again, Judi, for a rich and meaningful afternoon!