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Bob Robinson

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False Pro-War Propaganda about Children Being Beheaded Used on Christians

Christians, Muslim Extremists, and Lies in E-Mails Americans are on edge with the Islamic State (aka ISIS or ISIL) advancing through Iraq and killing people in mass executions, taking over city after city. This includes two of the country’s very important cities, Mosul and Qaraqosh. Mosul is ancient Nineveh and Iraq’s second largest city. It […]
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Amy Sorrells

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Pottery. A poem.

The starting from a lump of dirt, I always understood that part. I mean, pretty obvious, the soft, unformed places, inside and out. The forming, molding, pulling, not so much. After all, who can imagine what a piece of nothing … Continue reading →
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Tom Volkar

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Delightful Work Rides Again at a New Location

Copyright © 2014 Tom Volkar. Visit the original article at post is for all of you faithful Delightful Work subscribers. I’ve been wrtiing again at Please join me to subscribe to my blog there.  Here are some recent posts if you want to know what I’ve been up to. How to Live a […]

Duane Scott

Visit Duane Scott ~ Scribing the Journey

lost in love

Someone once said, “Let my heart be broken by the […] The post lost in love appeared first on Scribing the Journey.
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Glynn Young

Visit Faith, Fiction, Friends

Remembering for Ruth: True Confessions

We’ve reached the conclusion in Sheila LaGrand’s Remembering for Ruth serial novel. And now it’s time for true confessions.The story so far: Paul and Margot Goodharte live in Calfornia, and are caring for Paul's mother, who suffers from Alzherimer's disease. Paul is a pastor; his black sheep brother Matthew shows up and seems to have had something of a black-sheep shedding experience. He becomes interested in next-door neighbor Sue, and the family has a coincidental meeting with Matthew's estranged daughter Amelia. The dog of former neighbors of the Goodhartes is left to them to care for, and Ruth becomes attached to him, naming him Zorro. The dog turns out to be a specially trained schutzhund, and obeys numerous commands -- in German. Amelia is invited to spend some time with the family, and when she arrives, she runs into immediate conflict with Matthew. Then the family discovers Ruth is missing. The police are called in; the news media arrive; and Mrs. Delsey, the church busybody, organizes young people at the church for to help in the search and provide refreshments (in case you ever wondered, churches can’t do anything with food). A reporter talks to Mrs. Delsey, who lets her disapproval of the pastor’s wife slip into something of an accusation as to why Ruth is missing.In “True Confessions,” the final installment of the novel, the police arrive to question Margot. Zorro the dog, despite the best efforts of the humans in the story, seems to know where Ruth is. Without giving too much of the story away, let’s just say it ends well.The serial novel originated in the 17thcentury, when books were expensive; publishing in installments could help create a wider audience by bringing the cost down. It reached its height of popularity in the 19th century; large novels were often written in installments (what Charles Dickens often referred to as “numbers”) and published monthly. The 19th century witnessed an explosion in literacy; Dickens (for one) rode that wave and became famous as a result.  So did Alexandre Dumas with The Three Musketeers and The Count of Monte Cristo. In the United States, the first novel to be serialized was Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin in 1851, serialized in an abolitionist publication. Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina and Fyodor Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov.  The rise of broadcasting in the 20thcentury led to a decline in serialized fiction; stories were serialized on radio and later on television (ever wonder where the term “TV series” came from?). But radio largely abandoned serialized stories after the 1950s, leaving the concept to television. In 1984, Tom Wolfe’s The Bonfire of the Vanities was serialized in Rolling Stone before being published in book-length form, but it was something of an outlier – until the internet. Web sites, online publications and eventually ebooks (of which Remembering for Ruth is one) have revived the serial form of published fiction.So Sheila LaGrand’s Remembering for Ruth finds itself in good historical company. The print version of the entire book is scheduled to be published this fall.Photograph by Peter Griffin via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.
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Jim Lange

Seasons of Life

I absolutely love this time of year. The trees are decked out in amazing colors. The air is crisp. You can smell the aroma of burning leaves (we are allowed...

Sheila Lagrand

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Weekend Reflection: A Brother

Grandpa Downs, Mom, Cousin Marcia, Grandma Downs, Tim. Ca. 1969 Uncle Chuck, Tim, Grandpa Seiler, Dad. Ca. 1971 Little Boy. Big Tree. Disneyland.  Me, Tim, Elaine T., Mom, Grandpa Downs. Christmas, 1970. Tim and Elaine V. June, 1982. New HS Graduate. New Uncle. Tim and Mom. 2007?. Dad, Allison, Mom, Craig, Anne, Barkley? Tim. 2005.  […]

Michelle DeRusha

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A Husband’s Response to “Worth in Work”

A couple of days ago, when my husband asked if he could write a post for my blog, he made me promise I would publish it. So today I somewhat sheepishly and self-consciously welcome Brad, who has written a response to my post last week about my worth being too connected to my work. Last […]You just finished reading A Husband's Response to "Worth in Work"! Consider leaving a comment!
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emily wierenga

Visit in the hush of the moon

An Open Letter to Mothers Who Have Miscarried

Dear Mothers Who Have Miscarried,I've lost two, and it's near torn me apart, this longing to be in heaven with my babies, but I've learned the secret to staying on earth.I learned the secret, just weeks ago, and I want to share it here with you, if I may?It was December, a cold afternoon and I was meeting in a church with a prayer team. They asked me about the babies I'd lost and I wept so hard I couldn't speak because this past spring, God had told me my Madeleine would live. And then she'd died. He'd told me about her personality, and then she'd slid from my body, and I gave birth to Stillborn Faith that day.I've been grieving ever since and sometimes it's just a white lace shoe that undoes me. Or a pink dress.  Or the sight of a woman's rounded womb.And I met with the prayer team and they prayed over me, that the Grief would end. I nodded tearfully.Following the prayer, one of the women pulled me aside and told me she'd heard a pastor speak once, on miscarried and aborted babies, and that this pastor had received a vision of a nursery in heaven. In this vision, the pastor saw a nursery filled with miscarried and aborted babies, angels watching over them, and upon reaching heaven, mothers who'd lost their babies would be given a second chance to raise them.Now, friends, I don't know that there's anything in Scripture that talks about a nursery in heaven but I also know that heaven is mysterious and unfathomable and eternal, and that a nursery is something akin to the loving character of God the Father. He may just give us a second chance to raise our babies.I breathed long and hard and fast after she told me this. Because if this nursery does exist, then suddenly God's words to me in the spring made sense: his words saying that my baby would live (even though on earth, she died); his words describing her personality, as though she were already alive.Because no life is lost to Jesus.The night I lost my first child, I had a dream, even as I slept: a little girl with golden curls sat outside my bedroom door playing with toys, and when she looked at me, she had her father's eyes. And then I looked down at my arms and there was a little boy asleep in them, but I couldn't see his face.If this nursery exists, that dream was of my daughter, playing in heaven (and the baby in my arms? My eldest son, who was conceived months later).And my daughter's waiting for me--even as your children are waiting for you.13 For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. 15 My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. (Psalm 139)Friends?Our God does not lie.If he's told you that your baby lives? She does. Maybe not on earth. But nothing can separate us from the love of God--not even death, Romans 8 tells us.May you be filled with hope. This world is not all there is.Hallelujah.Your sister,e.*** Hey guys--I hate asking this, but I guess it's part of being a "professional" writer; I created an Author page yesterday and am wondering if you'll consider Liking me? Here's the link: XOXOSubscribers that had been using the RSS method may have tore-subscribe and choose the non-comments feed. Old (dead) link: (working) link:

Tod Bolsinger

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Google and Jesus Agree on At Least One Thing

Google might be on to something. But then again, Jesus had it long before Google did. Earlier this year in a New York Times article, a top Google executive said the company’s hiring had moved from typical resume highlights toward something more abstract. “Intellectual humility,” they called it. Without humility,...

Jeanne Damoff


The Lulu Tree

Isn’t this the cutest handmade hat you’ve ever seen? Well, guess what! You can order one. Or twenty. Because today is launch day for The Lulu Tree Boutique. And when you buy this hat (or any of the other wonderful items for sale in the boutique), all the proceeds will go to help mamas and […]
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Susan Jones

Visit Just ... a Moment

Seated ~

"I would rather sit on a pumpkin,  and have it all to myself,  than be crowded on a velvet cushion.”  Henry David Thoreau *  *  *  preparing to rest awhile *  *  * I do appreciate all of you who stop by and the  comments that you share
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Brock Henning

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Paying Yourself Extra for Free

Image courtesy of Shutterstock.comAt 4:30 a.m. on a snowy December morning, all I had on my 13 year-old mind was getting each nearly-frozen newspaper off my sled and onto each customer’s porch. The faster I could unload papers, the sooner I could melt back into a toasty bed. But I stopped after ten houses, glancing back.Four newspapers had missed their targets by a mile, each sticking out halfway in the snow. Hey, I was paid for delivering newspapers to the premise, not customized handling. And besides, my toes were cold.I thought of the elderly couple who lived at one of those homes. The next morning I returned to my usual route. This time every newspaper landed on a porch, and I placed a few, the ones I'd went back to the day before, just inside the storm doors. And for the elderly couple, whose storm door was locked, I deposited a plastic bag-wrapped newspaper in the mailbox adjacent the door, same as I’d done the day before. But when I opened their mailbox this time, I found a small package wrapped in Santa Claus gift wrap, with my name on it. Inside was a pair of wool gloves that fit perfectly, and a note shakily written to match the writer’s voice. Thank you for placing the newspaper in our mailbox. Sometimes it’s hard for us to pick it up.And when I got my first real job on a payroll at 16, at the local hardware store, I pushed the shopping cart for a middle-aged woman and loaded paint cans and houseware items into her car. She couldn’t walk very well.I was paid to work in the store, and to load heavier items like bags of sand and mulch and salt rock, and to only go out to the parking lot to retrieve empty shopping carts. I wasn’t paid to push a customer’s cart, but I did it anyway. She thanked me and offered a five for my trouble. I politely refused.I think of the numerous times during my professional career, when I’ve stepped outside of my hired job role to fix a problem that was not my responsibility to fix, but I took a shot at it anyway, foregoing my own work for another. I didn’t always fix the problem, and I certainly didn’t get paid extra for the effort, but it was a chance to communicate something that always pays off, and in some cases can change another’s life. Somebody cares.When a person says ‘no’ to something they are not paid to do, is that wrong? No, it is not. Then should we only say ‘yes’ to those things we are paid to do? After all, we need to make a living, and we’re all limited by time. We can’t be all things to all people. But didn’t Jesus Himself say “…whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant...the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:26-28 NIV)? How do we know where to draw the line?I think you’ll know.I never hand-delivered every customer’s newspaper to their door or mailbox. I couldn't finish my job if I did. I’d offer that 9 out of 10 newspapers flung 30 feet from the curb to the door every morning, most largely missing the doormat. But that 1 out of 10, the one I knew I should help, I gave extra for free.This post is part of The High Calling's Community Post topic, "Working for Free". Click here to read more insightful posts on this topic!

Heather Holleman

Visit Live with Flair

Instead of Excuses

All day I've been thinking about barriers to the kind of change I want in my life. When I see a barrier, it's an automatic excuse. Instead, I want to see the barrier as an opportunity.I know how to do this in some areas of my life, but I can't apply it to other areas. Why? I'm thinking about this!For example, some of you always ask me how I can blog every day (except that one day in Kansas) for 1,684 days. No matter what, I blog. If there's a barrier of time, location, internet access, etc., I see it as an opportunity to become really creative. It's the kind of pressure I like. It's pleasurable to solve this kind of problem.  Plus, and most importantly, it's something God empowers because I know it's what I'm supposed to be doing.Other good things I want to do, but somehow can't (insert anything you want here: fitness, weight loss, home decorating, mood management, finances) result from lots and lots of excuses. I want to apply the same creativity and pleasurable problem solving to whatever I want to change. I want to see God empower those things that should happen in my life because they are right and good.I want to take the pressure of time, location, access, etc. and become exceedingly creative!To give us hope, I want to share one thing I'm learning most of all: Friends really matter here. If you can recruit a friend to help you on your journey of change, it will make all the difference. When you want to change something, ask, "Who can help me? Who can be my friend in this?"Be ready for God to send someone your way.My blogging friends, exercise friends, teaching friends, parenting friends, and praying friends help so much. Together, we are exceedingly creative when faced with barriers and excuses.

Marilyn Yocum


Dumping My Blog

I’M THINKING OF DUMPING MY BLOG - been thinking it a while - but is it one more step away from writing? Or toward it? Unsure. I admitted to these very thoughts while riding to church a few weeks ago and wouldn’t you know it? The morning’s passage included “immediately they left their nets.” I […]

Marni Arnold

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Who’s My Target

In just a couple of short months, I will be hallmarking something I never thought I would say… …that I’ve been publicly writing for 4 years. 4 years! Golly, where has the time gone…and why have I floundered the last year with my writing? It’s frustrating, because deep down…I know this is what I am […]