Snippet from future novel to be released in February of 2014

God's plan, not mine

God’s plan, not mine

Honks and blown kisses left Mom and Jillian behind at Moll’s house and off I was on the last leg of my journey into my new life.  Now, this is something that came upon me once I got in that car and said goodbye.  A magnificent sense of freedom took hold right then and there.  I could feel a load lift right up out of my shoulders like somebody had removed the weight of a bullet proof vest.

What a splendid and glorious sense of exhilaration I was feeling.  I knew it wouldn’t last forever, but I was taken by the power of this feeling and somehow knew it was exactly the right choice for me to make, going back to my roots in Willmar, Minnesota.

The tunes were cranked.  The car was clean.  My energy was invigorating, beyond anything I had felt in many years.  Is this what I had been missing out on all those years stuck in a loveless relationship for so very long?  Or was this just what it felt like to have nobody  to answer to, nobody to have to live your life around?  Just living as one wishes without criticism from a spouse, parent, son or daughter, even a boss.  I had withdrawn my retirement funds when I left my job in Phoenix.  I planned on taking time off from life, period.  No commitments or complications in my life, just simple, pure, unadulterated living.  Every decision I would make would be my own.  It felt ecstatic.  Euphoric!  I felt blissfully blessed.  This is my life alone for just a period of time.  One day I will want interactions with others in my personal life again, just not right now.

I had played the role so very well for such a very long time I really didn’t know how to play any other role.  I even missed the Minnesota skies.   Year round one could lie down and stare into the sky with scattered clouds here and there.  Non- threatening clouds doing no harm other than shaping themselves into patterns of horses or fish or a person’s face.  Phoenix failed to offer that simple beauty to its residents as rarely were there simple partly cloudy skies.  It was sun and heat or clouds and winds, creating horrific sandstorms.  We would ache for a good thunderstorm or even light steady rain, but rarely were we gifted with such a thing.


Snippet from “Courage Times Three”

Two weeks following their arrival in Paris scant, but positive news, arrived through French diplomats regarding Valentin’s family. It appeared two of his sisters had been living in Switzerland throughout the war. The Swiss had remained neutral throughout both WWI and WWII, which attracted many Europeans to the country. Once war had ended, however, most transients returned to their homeland. They would hopefully receive further word of his family as more was unveiled. It pleased Valentin greatly to know at least two of his sisters were alive and well. Keeping in mind some of the transportation and communication was not back to normal throughout Europe, they realized all was being done that could be at the time.

Two weeks later, one week before the wedding was scheduled to be performed, Valentin was delivered the tragic news that his parents had not survived. His three younger sisters had been stashed aboard an ocean freighter, carrying them across the Baltic Sea to the island of Bornholm, which belonged to Denmark.

Courage Times Three. A Snippet
Courage Times Three. A Snippet

On August 22, 1943, a rocket, most likely launched by the Germans, crashed on Bornholm. It was assumed the Germans were testing the distance their live bombs would carry while doing their best to capture the British Isles, as the contents of the warhead was no more than cement, a dummy bomb. The Nazis had captured control of Bornholm relatively early in the second war, using it as a lookout post and listening station throughout much of the war.

The Soviets heavily bombarded Bornholm in 1945, returning the island to Denmark. No news of their sisters’ survival caused much agonizing pain for Valentin. Soon, however, news was received of his older sisters having escaped into Switzerland before being captured or killed. The women then had made it their mission to enter France, seeking some sort of information regarding their long lost brothers, Hugo and Valentin. Valentin realized the odds of their finding him were slim to none with having changed his surname to Dubois. Valentin‘s news was difficult to absorb.

Not knowing of his younger sisters’ fate gave him great cause for heartache and concern. He must continue to lean on God‘s never ending love, keeping the faith as the ladies of the house encouraged him to do. Although word of his younger sisters surely troubled him and the tragic deaths of his loving parents left a gaping hole within, he certainly had great reason to keep his head above water regarding his older sisters’ survival. If they could possibly be located in France, would there, perhaps, be hope that they, too, could be present for his wedding? Sensing it was an unlikely possibility, Valentin still sent daily prayers up above to the only One who could make far reaching dreams a reality. In this, he firmly believed.

Immediately the name of his mother’s sister-in-law in the north of France was shared with Aunt Melanie’s source, who was tracking them. This is where Valentin had hidden underground for two years prior to enlisting with the Resistance Fighters. His sisters would likely travel there, first, in search of him. Lilly’s excitement grew with each day as Valentin‘s did. How anxious she was to have two sisters-in-law after living without a single sibling throughout her life. It was a dream come true. Despite spending endless hours scurrying about with the final details of the wedding, she frequently found time to pump Valentin about his sisters. What did they look like? How old were they? Would they know how to speak French? Did they know how to ride?


Adopt a loving animal

Adopt a loving animal

As a newbie author of a Historical Christian Fiction novel, I spend quite a bit of time wondering just what my sole purpose is in publishing this writing……

This story had been in my mind for years.   I was inspired by folks who had lived through World War II and the Holocaust.  I could see past pain in their eyes.  They survived, ending up in Sun City, Arizona living their retirement years in peace and sunshine.

These are people who often wondered if they would be alive tomorrow.  They wondered what they would eat tomorrow.  They shivered in the bitter cold of their homes which had little to no heat in the dead of winter.  They knew war firsthand.  They also knew God, firsthand.  When they prayed to God it wasn’t always just to ask Him to improve their circumstances, it was also to thank Him for giving them another day of life, regardless of those circumstances.

How can we, here in the United States, at half the age of these war survivors, complain about our lives at all when compared to them?  It is nearly laughable!  Don’t you agree?  How minimal and trivial are our problems in comparison to knowing if we would actually survive life’s circumstances?

Today I think of Thanksgiving as a time to be extra appreciative of our families, our parents, our co-workers.  These are not just folks we see everyday and don’t give a damn about who they are?Do you know somebody at work who doesn’t come dressed to the hilt every day because they are stretching their every dollar from paycheck to paycheck?  Maybe doing something really nice for that person would make you feel better than going shopping on black Friday for the best deals around?  For items you really do not need?

I challenge you to take these situations into consideration this holiday season.  Think about giving to others.  Make your life count.  Make someone feel that sense of love through your giving.  You will be really really happy you did.

I realize I wrote my novel about these people because it desperately needed to be read here in these United States of America.  It’s an inspirational story of war and peace, love and giving.  Do I hope to make big money from my writing?  Sometimes.  I am human.  I  need money because we, my husband and I, are considered poor in this country with what we have to live on.  We both have disabilities but God sees us through every challenge and provides us money in ways we don’t always know about.  The point is, we usually recognize when good comes into our lives, especially unexpectedly.  I thank Him every time I turn around and  something good happens for us.

We are far from perfect and we make many mistakes.  We haven’t been to church in several months.  And I cannot tell you why.  Mostly due to sickness and somewhat due to misunderstandings.  But I have found even though we don’t attend church right now, it doesn’t mean we aren’t still Christians.  Because we certainly are.  I just want you to know how many times a day I think about God and His work in me.  In us.  What will we give to others this holiday season?  We have plans and ideas for giving.  I hope you all do too……Sending oodles of hugs and love to all…………….BBE

How many people really took the time to thank their Heavenly Father for their innumerable precious gifts they are provided here on Earth by Him?   How many people believe that God is responsible for all of those decisions they make to advance themselves in life so they can be of the utmost assistance to their fellow man?  How many who make more money year after year, raise the limits on what they can give to the church or charities?   Simply food for thought….If you haven’t done it yet, Christmas is straight ahead and you have a fabulous opportunity.  Trying even doing it incognito……….:o)




What goats won’t do….


The Mirrored Look


The Wrong Guy to Housesit


What’s MOST Important to You?

Eyes Wide Open


Tonight I’m just going to share some of my thoughts, although I don’t have them in pretty little compartments for you just yet. But so often, the Lord leads me to share just this way when I am in this exact place. It’s that place where things don’t make sense to me, or maybe even to you, but maybe, just maybe, it’s a place where He can make sense out of the seemingly random stuff that flows out of our hearts.

What’s really most important to you? To me?

Is it our car, our house, or our financial security?
Is it our reputation, our grade card, or how many friends we have?
And, oh! Is it how very hard we work, or how much of an awesome servant we are in our jobs, our churches, our whatever?

Maybe it’s one of these or something else like it that’s really most important?

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Historical fiction

Inspirational journey

Amazon’s Menu for Courage Times Three

Follow along with the latest news on what’s happening in my novel’s life.   An offer to use my novel in a Holocaust class and/or World War class at a Community & Technical College is in the works.  Hopefully sales will soar and my writings will give others a broader perspective on life during the most deadly and tragic wars in history.

My novel can be purchased at directly or through

It is selling as paperback and Kindle versions at these stores and also as a Nook at Barnes & Noble….be sure to pick up your copy..


I Was There (Re-post)

Chris Martin Writes

I’ve gained quite a few more followers since I first posted this, so I wanted to share it again. It’s one of my personal favorites.

I Was There

You don’t know me, and my name is not important. I was never mentioned in the story that millions, if not billions have most likely read by now. I didn’t play a major role, nor was I involved directly with the events that transpired that day. All I know is that I have been trying to erase the memories, with no success. The things I witnessed, relentlessly haunt my dreams every night. I haven’t slept in what feels like years, although the truth is that it’s only been a few months. Forgive me if there are parts of this story that are confusing. I know I will never understand what I saw, but nevertheless, I will attempt to describe everything I can…

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November 2013

Courage Times Three

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