Anne's Bio

Friday, March 13, 2020

Friday's Devo: Bend Your Knee

It's Time...
I've heard the full moon invoked. Friday the 13th invoked. Partisanship, political power, and medical power invoked. I've heard the F---bomb invoked on a hot mic. Fear and anxiety, hoarding... are palpable.

But they hold no True power. It's Time to invoke the name of the Living God...


The National Day of Prayer has its roots in Boston 1768 when residents called a day of prayer and fasting when the British planned to station troops in the city. When their leaders failed them, they turned to prayer and the power of God and faith.

Throughout the Revolution, days of prayer were set aside by Congress for all the colonists to observe.  General George Washington, as Commander-in-Chief of the Continental Army acknowledged a day of fasting and prayer. It was a one day cessation of all recreation, fighting, and unnecessary labor for his soldiers and the colonists to be held May 6, 1779.

These are once again historic times as a novel virus, COVID19 sweeps our globe in a pandemic of powerful impact we have never witnessed. Like an invasion of an unwelcome army, it has come to our shores, bringing a disruption of peace across our nation and the globe.

I cannot help but recall 2005 after Hurricane Katrina hit our southern shores with widespread destruction, and I participated in a rescue effort through Homeland Security on a medical team. We marveled at the impact of governmental "red tape" that paralyzed the early efforts. Yet each morning our team of National Guard, Indiana State Police, Epidemiologists, Psychiatrists, Pharmacists, Doctors, Nurses, Nurse Practitioners, Mental Health Counselors, and Pastors would gather on the tarmac of our camp in the parking lot of the Coliseum in Biloxi, MS--to pray.  We witnessed daily large and small ways that God was not fettered by "red tape", fear, or loss.

I am reminded of that now. I invoke the name of the Living God, forgive of us of our personal and national sins. Have mercy on us. Release Your healing, release kindness, Peace, Light, Hope, release Your presence to comfort, release the tools that we desperately need--testing kits, proper masks, and channels through which Your power can be witnessed.

It's time. Bend your knee. Join in prayer.

If our Commander-in-Chief won't invoke a day of prayer, we must.

2 Chronicles 7:14 If my people who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and forgive their sin and heal their land.

Psalm.60:2 You have shaken the land and torn it open. Heal its fractures, for it is quaking.

Lord, be the "power of my power" as in the ancient Irish hymn "Be Thou My Vision", and encourage our hearts for the days ahead:

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to em, save that Thou art.
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sward for the fight; 
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my high Tow'r;
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Pow'r of my pow'r.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach Heaven's joys, O bright Heav'n's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.

Amen.
                                                                                -------------
Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
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Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Happy New Year--2019!!

Anne here. I'm looking over the books I've read this last year as I close out 2018 and bring in 2019. Beside countless hours scouring Ancestry.com, Fold3.com, and out of print Google books while researching family history or digging up things in history that fascinate me, I've accomplished reading a stack of eleven books this year.



Each of these has taught me something valuable for 2018, and I'm ready to think about what 2019 might bring. I did the David study over months and months of slowly digesting and working through the chapters in the mornings. There's no need to purchase the CD's in order to get the meat out of it. It's very doable on your own or with a group, but I found so much depth doing it on my own. The margins of my study guide are filled with notes and thoughts, sort of like Bible journaling.

Of course, Laura Frantz's books are my all time favorite and I'm waiting for her next release to hit my mailbox this month! I also enjoyed Jocelyn Green. I found America's First Daughter, about Thomas Jefferson's daughter, at the local bookstore on the general market display and really loved it. I'm also planning to order their next one, My Dear Hamilton.

Many of you know that Jaime Jo Wright and I started a blog that we hosted for five years, Coffee Cups & Camisoles (you can find old posts through the link at the bottom of the page), and I'm excited to celebrate our ten year friendship-versary this year. We met at 2009 Denver ACFW conference, and it's been a complete joy to watch her launch her first major contracts, including The Reckoning at Gossamer Pond, with a Poe-esk feel to the split time suspense.

New-to-me-Author, Joanna Politano, brings the reader into an amazing tale of treasure-seeking in A Rumored Fortune that reminded me of George MacDonald-meets-Julianne Donaldson. I'll certainly be watching for her next release!

Last week I just typed "THE END" to my fourth full length novel and I'm ready to write up the proposal and send it off to my agent. Authors always have lots of stories on the back burners of their minds. Mine tend to spring out of things I'm researching. I've been diving deeper into the colonial period and post-Revolutionary War period where many of my ancestors traveled over-the-mountains into the hills of Kentucky, Ohio, and Indiana. I picked up this review, Christians of the American Revolution, to give me an overview of the moral-religious times these people lived through. It's a little heady, but still interesting and surprisingly universal to everything our world still faces.

Little sneak peek of my latest story setting...



I like to mix some nonfiction reads with my fiction reading and writing. I find it grounds me and balances me. I was profoundly impressed with Kim Meeder's stories this year after hearing her speak at a church conference. Don Miller and Sarah Arthur's books I picked up at ECPA's Art of Writing conference. There's always a slot for studying the craft of writing and story! And lastly, though I didn't read the entire book, I always have lofty dreams of reading classics, and tried to digest C.S. Lewis's The Problem with Pain.

I can't wait to find out what lies on the pages of 2019!
Readers, what did you read this past year?
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Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook
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Find me on: Goodreads
Find me on: Twitter
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Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

Wednesday, December 19, 2018

"Ring-Ting-Tingling Too..."

Anne here. I'm sharing a fun Christmas project I did this week. While moving my son home from college last week, we often stop in Wabash, Indiana, at an antique store there. This time my eye caught on a bowl of old brass jingle bells that had been discarded after they'd fallen off of a leather harness sometime in the last 150 years or more.


Today I found Christmas ribbon 70% off at a craft store and my project was birthed! I laid out my musical gems in order of size and sound, clipped my cording to fit the space I was going to decorate. Then I arranged them in even spaces and tied each one along the  ribbon, and viola!






No secret that I'm a sucker for nostalgic vintage history! Which of course made me wonder about the history of bells. Turns out bells were cast in bell foundries for centuries. One of the bells has a running horse and initials W.E.B. on it...so, looks like I found a copy in GoogleBooks of the reissued patent. That's fun! He was an early American bell maker.



Another GoogleBook source states that Wm. E. Barton's grandfather started the bell works foundry in Connecticut in 1808, and W.E.B. continued it until at least 1881. Many bell works made andirons, large and small bells, baby rattles, church bells, city or clock tower bells, as well as sleigh bells. To this day, the jingle of sleigh bells brings back a time when winter sleigh rides were high fashion fun of horse drawn times. 


"Just hear those sleigh bells jingling,
ring ting tingling too
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a sleigh ride together with you
Outside the snow is falling
and friends are calling "yoo hoo",
Come on, it's lovely weather
for a sleigh ride together with you."


Readers:
So, I'm adding sleigh ride to my bucket list!
Have any of you taken a sleigh ride?
And yes, sounds like a great place to start a story, don't you think?!

Merry Christmas to all!
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Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook
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Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

Wednesday, November 14, 2018

Coffee Shop Lessons



Anne here. A white pick up truck just turned the corner in front of the large window front of my home town main street coffee shop. In the back of the truck bed, a huge stack of six American flags rides hanging over the edge as it accelerates, and I'm reminded that I just watched the movie The Patriot last night. The final pre-battle scene flashes through my mind, where Benjamin Martin's character has just lost his son to pure honor-less hatred and he's given up the fight, defeated by all he's seen and experienced. But as he packs his saddlebag, he catches sight of the American flag peeking from the corner of the leather pouch and pulls it out, running his hand over it's patched colors. 

The next scene is the flag waving free in the wind over the crest of the hill, riding closer to the line of soldiers marching to fight Cornwallis. We know they defeated Cornwallis. But they didn't know they would. They knew pain, tyranny, hatred, prejudice, anger, oppression. And they fought it--at great cost. They protected each other's hopes.

I refill my coffee cup and sit down as my dear friend texts me about the terrible impact of media-crazed misinformation that is swirling in her town. Like a tyrannical enemy, the mob is claiming a group of students who were asked to give a "high-five" sign for a picture for their parents has gone viral online. The story has been twisted worse than the silly telephone game we used to play at my Amish babysitters, suggesting the students were flashing a hate sign. 

I ponder how times have changed as I sip my hot dark brew and watch out the window where six little Amish kids sit quietly entertaining themselves and talking kindly to one another without the use of any electronic devices and I smile at the simplicity of human kindness unfolding before me. 

It hurts and it's sad that the whole world can't be so beautiful a place as my little hometown coffee shop this morning. I pull out my laptop and open it to begin edits, wondering if I can find the right words. Wondering if it really matters if I write them. Speak them. Share them. The gaggle of Amish children soon leaves, replaced by two young mothers having lunch, an Amish lady having coffee with a Mennonite lady, and a Millennial Asian girl who drapes her mod-dressed body on a lazy chair in front of me and puts on headphones as her fuzzy clogged foot hangs over the armchair. 

I hear the coffee grinder in the background. The cat needs let out at home and I begin to wonder if I'd have gotten more meaningful words accomplished at home. My friend texts again from Wisconsin, asking for prayer for her community as the controversy is blowing up on social media, her coworker is in tears, and death threats have been sent.

Suddenly the Asian girl throws her phone, jumps to her feet, and starts jumping up and down squealing out loud. The moms look up, I look up, the Amish lady and the Mennonite lady look up and say, "whatever it is, congratulations...?!"  She exclaims that her visa has just been approved. And just like that six women unknown by one another, laugh together.


I want to hug her or buy her a coffee to celebrate but she's gotten up to meet someone. So I look back at my laptop and wonder about meaningful words again. About the power of bad words. The power of good words.

The Asian girl sits back down, joy still exuding from her as she rapidly texts someone. A small Amish boy walks up to her about ten feet away, staring at her, he smiles. She looks up and smiles. He grins wider. She waves at him. He waves back.

And just like that. Asia waves at Amish. Woman smiles at boy. Strangers share joy. Without words. 
And I see them. I see Asia. I see Amish. I see boy and woman. I see kindness that makes us more the same than different. More united than opposed, or defeated by hate or division. 

We are supposed to see the differences and the sameness, the connections and the hearts. We are supposed to care about what we know, who we know, and who we don't. We are supposed to overlook offense, and see hearts. We are supposed to celebrate together.

My coffee is cold now. 
My heart is warm. 
I offer a prayer up for my friend's hometown, and thank the Lord for mine, which suddenly seems not so small-town.

Then I remember that flag again. The sacrifices for liberty.
The Lord's sacrifice for liberty.
And I remember the feeling of hope when Benjamin Martin decides not to give up.
How can we possibly give up?

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Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook
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Find me on: Goodreads
Find me on: Twitter
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Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Happy Fall!!

Hello readers! I'm writing you while the meatloaf bakes in the oven. Mmmmmmmm.....
I hope your Fall is well under way and you are enjoying the colors where ever you live. Is everyone ready for a season of winter reading?

I have my ToBeRead Pile waiting for me to dig in...how about you?
The TBR pile is not complete, but here's my start:




It's been a little while since I've posted. Here is what has kept me busy lately:

I've been working on content edits for a 1890's sweet love story--all I can say is that the pics below might have impacted the inspiration for the story. When those edits are complete, I'll send them along with a proposal to my agent to be shopped around with editors. While that gets shopped around, I'll turn my sites to the next story idea, which may involve a jump back to Post-Revolutionary War period. So, in the mean time I'm researching the time period.



My daughter was able to attend Breathe Conference with me in Grand Rapids, Michigan a few weeks ago. I really enjoyed the wide variety of authors and speakers there, including both fiction and nonfiction. It gave us a chance stay at a cute revived hotel nearby Lowell, Michigan. Plus, morning coffee at this cute place was a must!




Fall is also the time for our annual block party, which is more like our "square mile" party. It was especially fun since it was held at the old Stump Homestead, settled in 1838. The buildings were open to tour, and the homestead boasts the largest Ginko Biloba tree in all of Elkhart County--maybe even the midwest. It's over 150 yrs old, and is thought to have been brought with the settlers for medicinal reasons.




Readers: I'd love to hear what you've been reading, and what's on your TBR pile--both fiction and nonfiction! What have you been doing this Fall to enjoy the season?
#Fall2018 #BreatheCMC #LoveStories #HistoryNerd
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Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook
Find me on: Pinterest
Find me on: Goodreads
Find me on: Twitter
Find me on: Instagram
Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

Monday, August 27, 2018

What's Up? Historic Hannastown!

This past summer our family plans included a family reunion on my side of the family at Laurelville Mennonite Camp near Mount Pleasant, Pennsylvania. So I plotted as usual to see what family history might be nearby that we could stomp around and see some historical sites where our ancestors might have lived.

I'm fascinated by living history--walking in the footsteps of our ancestors!

We've been coming to Laurelville for years and I happened to notice that it's in the same county where my husband's 5th great grandfather had lived in 1773--Westmoreland County, Pennsylvania. So I quickly googled and stealthily suggested that our day trip should divert from the group's planned trip to historic Fort Ligonier, to historic restored Hannastown where the settlers of 1773 lived. Ted agreed and I even scheduled a meeting with the local historical society, where a volunteer researcher had looked up any available records for John O'Gullion, Ted's 5th great grandfather.


It felt like an episode of "Who Do You Think You Are?" which I'm crazy about!

We drove what felt like over hill, over dale through the back roads and farms of Southwestern Pennsylvania and parked at Hannastown. I was nearly giddy!! We had a wonderful tour guide, a young history major who was doing his summer internship on colonial history.




To prepare for our little excursion, I had reviewed the life of this ancestor through reading his pension applications from the Revolutionary War. These applications include first hand accounts from applicants and those who knew them, testifying their activities in fighting for American Liberty.

By visiting Fold3.com, I found his application and read:


Then I searched and found some documents about the first court held in Hannastown and it dawned on me that this government was under the allegiance to the Crown of England in 1773, as the colonies had not yet declared their independence! However, they were on the western front of the fight for what they termed collectively as American Liberty---the very term used in the personal Revolutionary pension application for John O-Gullion. Their use of the term during the pre-independence days meant they still spoke allegiance to the Crown, but they chafed under it mightily. They were indignantly demanding the Crown not rule in America through tyranny, making them essentially slave states destined to send all their profits back to England, subjecting them to the rule of corrupted land owners and political figures. In short, they were the earliest definition on the western frontier of Rebels. 

In fact, as we learned on the tour, this flag was created by them and represented their ideals of freedom. The earliest forms of "don't tread on me" started here. Our guide explained that the rattler, a native snake to the U.S. was poised ready to strike at England, whose authority it was still under in 1773.







By 1776, our ancestor John O'Gullion had signed up to fight in the Revolution and marched East to fight in the battles of New Jersey, New York, and was wounded in the leg and the jaw at Valley Forge, where his 8th Pennsylvania regiment fought along side Washington's men. Returning to Hannastown, he lived until 1788 before moving with his family to Ohio, then on to become some of the first settlers of Lexington, Kentucky, not long after Daniel Boone's men opened the frontier through the Cumberland Gap.


He might have lived in a Scots-Irish style home such as this one, where the chimneys were on the ends of the buildings as they were in their homeland where the winters weren't so harsh. Whereas the German immigrant homes on the frontier had their chimneys in the center of the home to conserve heat, as they'd been used to harsh winters.



The men of Hannashstown convened a convention and wrote the resolutions that became the precursor to the Declaration of Independence.

On the 16th of May, 1775, the inhabitants of Westmoreland county met at Hannastown in convention and produced remarkable Resolutions which stated:

"Meeting of the inhabitants of Westmoreland county, Pa.

"At a general meeting of the inhabitants of the County of Westmoreland, held at Hanna's town the 16th day of May, 1775, for taking into consideration the very alarming situation of the country, occasioned by the dispute with Great Britain:

"Possessed with the most unshaken loyalty and fidelity to His Majesty, King George the Third, whom we acknowledge to be our lawful and rightful King, and who we wish may be the beloved sovereign of a free and happy people throughout the whole British Empire, we declare to the world, that we do not mean by this Association to deviate from that loyalty which we hold it our bounden duty to observe; but, animated with the love of liberty, it is no less our duty to maintain and defend our rights (which, with sorrow, we have seen of late wantonly violated in many instances by a wicked Ministry and a corrupted Parliament) and transmit them to our posterity, for which we do agree and associate together:

"1st. To arm and form ourselves into a regiment or regiments, and choose officers to command us in such proportions as shall be thought necessary."

This was the first of five resolutions. It was followed by a letter from St. Clair, a representative of Gov. Penn's, to Penn stating: "We have nothing but musters and committees all over the country, and everything seems to be running into the wildest confusion. If some conciliating plan is not adopted by the Congress, America has seen her golden days, they may return, but will be preceded by scenes of horror. An association is formed in this county for defense of American Liberty. I got a clause added, by which they bind themselves to assist the civil magistrates in the execution of the laws they have been accustomed to be governed by."

From these proceedings a local militia was formed to protect the frontier settlement and seat of government, but within the year they were quickly recruited to Washington's Continental Army after the Declaration of Independence, and marched from Southwestern Pennsylvania to New Jersey and New York. After the war, many returned, including our ancestor, John O'Gullion and his two brothers, Jeremiah and Robert, who became known as riflemen, Indian spies, and rangers.

The fate of Hannastown was a disastrous one that ended in a raid of Indians and British in July 1782, after which most settlers relocated and the county seat was moved to Pittsburgh. Though the seat of government was removed from Hannastown, diehard settlers must have remained since the land records and census records record that our ancestor stayed there until about 1788.

I was amazed as I reread the multiple pages of sworn testimony of John and his friends and family, that because he fought  prior to the Declaration during a time the well known settlement had declared allegiance to the King through thickly veiled words of revolution in their resolutions, they had to testify to having known him to be a loyal and faithful servant and fighter for American Liberty. I even found a record of his father having been evicted from his lands by order of the King! (basically because Pennsylvania and Virginia governments under King George III were vying for frontier lands.)

In the end, John, Robert, and Jeremiah O'Gullion were each granted Revolutionary War pensions, but not  until the 1830's when Congress passed pension laws. I could not find any proof that any of them were granted bounty lands as payment for their service, though they went on to fight in the Indian wars with George Rogers Clark, and eventually settled near Lexington, Kentucky, and Howard County, Indiana. By the time John was died in 1850 in Howard County, Indiana, he was nearly 100 years old!

How I wish we could have visited with him!

Twin Springs Cemetery, Howard Co., IN

Readers:
Anyone else addicted to Who Do You Think You Are?
Have you ever discovered your own roots, only to be surprised by their fortitude?
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Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook
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Find me on: Twitter
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Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

Monday, August 20, 2018

Monday's Devo: Lesson's from Yo-Yo-Ma & Jesus


Anne here. Anyone else get the end-of-summer slumps? I do. I love scheduling the summer full of fun things to look forward to, and I equally love the return to routine when August arrives. But each end-of-summer, I've come to recognize this sort of numbness that besets my transition from summer to fall. Those in-between days where summer overload has taken it's toll and I just need rest, but when I finally get there it feels sort of empty, "meh" "non" and "bleh".


So this last week when I had a day off full of nothing, I thought it would be so awesome just to nothing-it-away. But that felt flat, and I decided to shoot out a text to my prayer group to ask if I was the only one who felt that at the end of the summer. I shouldn't have been surprised to learn that I wasn't, but I was. So, here's a hearty welcome to all you who have felt that too! Suddenly after sharing that with my prayer group, reminders of love poured in the shape of scripture.

Ephesians 3: 17-19: So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Someone in my group sent it. Yep, I've read that before. I know it's true. But "still feeling flat here..." were my thoughts.

Then I opened my copy of Kim Meeder's Encountering Our Wild God and flipped to my current chapter. Through blurry morning eyes and coffee I read of His wild love....and yes, that same scripture!  I sat a little more bright eyed and pondered that God's love is really there even when I feel flat. His love doesn't come with instructions to always feel it, only to know it, and remember it.

(I'm hoping to do a review & give-away once I'm finished! Stay tuned!)

I went to the kitchen for another cup of joe and flipped open my emails and clicked on Thursday's newsletter from Laura Martin, from TimeToRevive. The Keurig chugged behind me. The dim morning light from the stove had begun to break through my morning haze as I skimmed the newsletter and my eyes halted....there it was, third time in the space of thirty minutes...the SAME scripture. Okay, I'm just saying, when you ask for prayer, or you see or hear something more than once...stop what you are doing and listen. That is God speaking to you!

Okay. I hear you now, Lord. You love me even when I feel flat, tired, and barraged by the summer schedule, the evening news, and the day-to-day junk. A relieved smile lifted the corners of my mouth.  That's it. I need a battle plan! I went to the closet and changed up the usual hum-drum wardrobe for the day's work and selected RED shoes!! I sorely needed to walk out this reminder of love all day long. I just needed to look down at my feet all day and remember that he speaks love.


It's amazing what a little shout out to your praying friends and the living God can do! That "meh" "blah" feeling ebbed slowly away over the day and by Friday on my drive home, a sense of peace stayed with me as I flipped on NPR news. It was an interview with Yo Yo Ma, called Tiny Desk, where they cram all their staff into a tiny room with a small desk and do an interview. Yo Yo Ma had set his cello upon the tiny desk and began to share about his music, playing these lovely cords between his words.

There is nothing like a cello to make you really FEEL something! (Note to self, put 'learn to play cello" on the bucket list...) I sighed and thanked God for my week, grateful that even the short experience of feeling flat, allowed the chance for great reminders of love and feeling good things deeply. I recalled the line I'd underlined in Kim Meeder's book that morning--that a girl she'd shared the love of Jesus with, began to ponder it as truth, actually began to wrestle with it--because Kim said, "she could feel it."

Now, I know over-feeling things has gotten a bad rap in the church. That wasn't my focus. But in culture we know that "not-feeling' it" equals "I don't believe you!"  Right?! My mind flitted to the commercial I'd seen this past week:


Yo Yo Ma's cello sounded over the radio as I refocused on my commute. It was the sound of peace. Like a river that flows, a butterfly, an ocean. Summer. Even ends of good things. Transitions. Places and times where God's love is large enough for it all. God's love. I felt it.

Listen to the sound: Click to hear Yo Yo Ma's Cello ....

Yo Yo Ma said, (admittedly paraphrased): "learning something new is not really that painful when you do it incrementally." He commented that once he played to execute the notes, later he played to express them...the notes were the same, but the sound was different and the experience became different.

Ahhh. That's it. That's like love. We can get caught  up in the doing of the things and tasks that represent love, but they can become tasks to check on a list and execute, complete--but the entire experience of love comes alive when we feel them, express them from a place of knowing love, believing in love. Then the experience changes us. And somehow we know we've been resurrected. Sort of like walking around in red shoes all day.

John 8: 36 So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed....

So, get on your red shoes!!

Readers:
Anyone else get the end-of-summer blues??
Any cello players out there, or bucket-list-wanna-be's?
Yo Yo Ma mentions he plays a particular piece for both weddings and funerals, "it has a dual purpose, so think about that, he says..."  How do feeling things and not feeling things have a dual purpose in your life?
How is feeling it, believing it?
How is knowing different than believing?
Isn't it miraculous that we are made to experience life deeply?

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Blog post by Anne Love-
Writer of Historical Romance inspired by her family roots. 
Nurse Practitioner by day. 
Wife, mother, writer by night. 
Coffee drinker--any time.
Find me on:Facebook
Find me on: Pinterest
Find me on: Goodreads
Find me on: Twitter
Find me on: Instagram
Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

Friday's Devo: Bend Your Knee

It's Time... I've heard the full moon invoked. Friday the 13th invoked. Partisanship, political power, and medical power invoked. I...