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 22, 2019

Book Give-Away: The Curse of Misty Wayfair by Jaime Jo Wright

Anne here. Many of you know that Jaime and I launched a blog together six years ago with dreams and aspirations to support the writing world. I'm so excited to bring you Jaime's third release with Bethany Publishing House with the release of The Curse of Misty Wayfair, a time-slip suspense you will want a light on to read!



Authors often get a spark of a story idea while researching, or pinning pictures on Pinterest. Jaime and I share a secret Pinterest board that we pin ideas to and bounce story ideas with each other. In high school I participated in a service project in Portland, Oregon, that for some reason included cleaning out part of an abandoned mental asylum. It was so creepy I nearly thought I'd dreamed it. But, we actually had brought out old nurse's aprons when we left, so I hadn't imagined it. But, I had actually forgotten the experience until Jaime and I started looking at these old pics and the stories of Nellie Bly who researched these places a century ago. And so, it started with pictures of abandoned old mental asylums and I kept telling Jaime, the suspense guru, that she needed to pursue this story. It morphed into a deep journey through history and the realities of anxiety until today--release day!


So, welcome Jaime:

1. What prompted the story line for this one?  Or what was your inspiration? 

Well, I’ve always been intrigued by the concept of asylums as they used to be. My writing sister, Anne, often reminded me it’d be a creepy setting for a novel. But, to be honest, a lot of this novel was drawn on from personal experience. It was tough to write and a deep dive into my own emotions.

2. Along the same vein, I saw on another launch member's post that this book drew from some personal experience and angst. Would you be willing to share any of that?

Sure! I have an autoimmune disease many are becoming more familiar with: Lyme disease. In short, it mimics a lot of other autoimmune diseases. Mine manifests itself via what the doctors term as “non-epileptic seizures, bouts of severe anxiety, and sometimes confusion and loss of memory. So, many of the emotions (specifically Heidi’s) I relate to.”

3. Do either of the main characters particularly resonate with you? Who and why?

Well, as I mentioned above, I relate a lot to Heidi’s personal struggles with anxiety. But, I also found myself chuckling as I wrote Heidi’s point of view. Her personal style, snarky retorts, and way of filling silence with empty chatter is not far off from my own -- ahem -- personality.

4. How much of the book is based on reality? 

Many of the asylum’s referred-to experiments and patient treatment were, in fact, based on true historical facts.Which is highly unfortunate. When Thea begins reading some of the patient records, they do loosely resemble real records unearthed from old asylums. Again, also unfortunate how patients were more like subjects than people.

5. Did anything happen during the writing of this book that impacted the trajectory of the story?  

Wow. That’s a great question! There wasn’t anything major that impacted it, however, I will admit to visiting the cemetery several times to get myself in the moment. To be surrounded by the stories of those who lay in rest. Sometimes, it’s an eerie but peaceful place to be inspired.

6. What is the one thing you want to be sure that readers glean from this particular book?

That their identity can only be found in their Creator. I know that sounds simplistic, but I think American culture sends us on a zillion chases to “find ourselves”, when who we are is wrapped thoroughly in the One who wrote our own story.

7. What's coming up next and when can we expect it?

Echoes Among the Stones is coming this December! I’m super excited about its story. It’s also a split-time story, but this time we visit 1946, the post war American farmland, a cold case murder, and an eccentric elderly woman who hides a dollhouse with a re-created crime scene in miniature form.

Readers: 
For those of you who like romance, there is a romance thread through Jaime's story you will enjoy.
Have any of you heard of an abandoned asylum or poor farm in your own community?
Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

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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
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Old posts at: Coffee Cups & Camisoles

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
Find me on: Pinterest
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
Find me on: Pinterest
Find me on: Goodreads
Find me on: Twitter
Find me on: Instagram
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
Find me on: Pinterest
Find me on: Goodreads
Find me on: Twitter
Find me on: Instagram
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

Wednesday, September 12, 2018

Book Report & Give Away: Encountering Our Wild God by Kim Meeder

I promised a review of Kim's book when I finished it. Here it is!!
I had the blessing of meeting Kim this summer briefly at our Regen 2018 church conference where she was a guest speaker. Her stories of encountering God, knocked my socks off! Seriously.

So, I want to introduce Kim to you all. She is above all else a humble God-girl who has experienced the deep painful loss of both her parents when she was nine years old in a homicide-suicide--BUT GOD--has been beyond abundantly real and healing in her story from that very first moment she screamed out to Jesus, to her daily ministry where she serves along with her husband on a youth ranch for wounded horses and people.

Kim and her husband Troy, have built a horse ranch called Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch in Bend, Oregon and have been faithful to walk with others to expand that ministry in over two hundred similar ranches.

She is a wilderness girl at heart, who sees. I mean, she sees. She is very visual and paints wonderful stories that help you see what the Spirit is showing her through relationships, wounded starving horses, and God's amazing wild creation. She grew up learning the wilderness with her dad and grandfather, learning to ski, and track animals. So, being a country girl, I totally loved that!

I was raised tagging along behind my dad to the woods to hang tree stands, read animal tracks, know the trees and the wind, and hunt with coon dogs. I sat for hours as a five year old watching the hunters tan furs. Iron traps from my grandfather and father hung in our garage along side the drying furs. I thought stomping through the creek in the woods was the best fun on the planet when I was a kid. I also thought my dad walked on water. Kim thought hers did too. Every small child wants to believe this about their parents and those they love.

But all of us grow up and realize everyone crashes beneath the waves at some point. And when we experience pain and disappointment we can lose our wonder and connection the Father created for us to learn how much He loves us--to show us He still walks on water...  He still reaches for our hands... We all have a choice: hang onto pain, hurt, disappointment--or get out of the boat to walk on the water with Him...  reach up to take His hand when the waves have overcome our feeble attempts...

Each chapter of this book tells a very real encounter through everyday life and how God spoke to Kim, how He showed up in very real, beyond-impossible ways that will rock you! In a crazy good way. Here's a little sample:


Readers:
How many horse lovers out there?
If not horses, cat lovers? That's me!

This week, my daughter has been sad she's missing our 17 year old cat who died two years ago. We were walking next door to grandma's house to pick tomatoes and cucumbers. She was moaning that saying that she'd decided she just decided she'd have to go to an animal shelter and pet cats as her cat therapy. We talked as we worked about visiting a farm near our church across the county to pet barn cats. As we walked back home, at the end of the driveway, the very spot she'd uttered her need--"meow"--there sat a black cat. The very image and twin of our previous 17 year old cat! We knelt and she came right to us, rubbed up against her, and started to purrrrrr....and my girl started to smile. She grinned ear to ear--"mamma, Jesus heard me!"

The thing is--we all needed a cat! Me. My husband, my daughter, and my son.
Sometimes, like the lady in Kim's video story above, you just need to know you aren't alone.


You just need to know He hears you. He sees you.


How do you find the voice of God in nature, through animals, or through others to give you hope?

Leave a comment for a chance to win a copy! (United States only)

a Rafflecopter giveaway
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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...