On two occasions I experienced timeless emotions in the midst of suspended reality at levels that exceed every other moment of my life.
One: the day I learned my daughter was expecting triplets. My joy overflowed, but it was couched in surreality.
The other: the day I learned a story I had written won the Jerry B. Jenkins Operation First Novel contest and would become a published novel. Again, my joy overflowed amend surreality.
Both experiences represent the movement of God’s providential hand in the life of a woman well past her prime, one who deserves not a fleeting glance from the God of Heaven, to say nothing of His steady presence.
As my daughter struggled day by agonizing day in 2004 and 2005 to hold out until her babies’ little bodies could survive outside hers, I promised the Lord I would devote my remaining years to the threesome in her womb, to telling them about Him. By His grace, they were born just past the all-important point at which their chances of survival increased tenfold. Each weighed in at 2.5 pounds. The yearning I had ignored until then–the yearning to write–blossomed because of them.
A decade of writing struggles ensued. Learning to craft a novel designed to bring honor to God and leave a legacy of faith for that threesome and their brother and cousins that followed has been quite a journey.
Now a new journey has begun as I anticipate the release of The Calling of Ella McFarland in December.
I can barely wait to introduce you to the characters I’ve encountered while writing The Calling of Ella McFarland, to give you a glimpse into their struggles and triumphs, and to thrill at how God moved in their lives.
The year is 1905. But the human condition and need for God remain the same one hundred years later.
Watch for updates, friends.