A 2022 Announcement of Sorts –

Have you ever had a really good idea and got so far into it just to realize it was solely a you idea and not a God idea? Yeah…me too. In fact that happened to me twice this year in the realm of writing. Let’s quickly journey back to late 2020 so that I can best explain where I am heading with this. It was during that time I felt God lay on my heart the goal of writing a book, a book that would be my first solo book. I have co-authored two others…but this…this would be my very own work going out into the world.

I was excited and wanted to jump in right away. I quickly brainstormed a list of topics and when I had decided on one I wanted to write about I started writing as one would do. Well turns out…I got so far into that and found out it wasn’t the topic this book should be about. Wait a few months…and the same thing happened again. Sometimes being a writer is hard y’all. But all kidding aside – I am ever so thankful for my editor who sticks by me through all of this and encourages me to follow the leading of the Lord!

The good thing is and part of the reason I am sharing this story with you is because starting in January these are going to become series here on the blog. I worked too hard in all of that writing this year to simply throw it away. That being said, in January we will be doing a series on prayer and then in April/May a series on motherhood.

And that leads me into making an announcement. Kind of a funny place to add this in (after having just told you what I did but….) drumroll* my 2022 project will be … writing a fiction book! This is one of the projects I hope (Lord willing) to pour my time into this year and again Lord willing I would love to have it (self) published by the end of the year. We will see how the Lord leads in this area.

So, you may be asking yourself, if the other two fell through how can I be sure this one wont? Well that would be a matter of listening to the Lord. If I would have listened to the Lord in the first place I would be well on my way of having this book published. God clearly laid the idea of this fiction book on my heart in late 2020 but instead of being obedient and following His lead, I did what I thought He must want me to do and chose two non-fiction book ideas to write on. We all see how that went.

Today, I wanted to share some of what I have written for the first chapter of my book with you. I hope that you enjoy it and it gives you just enough thirst to want to read more!


O come, all ye faithful Joyful and triumphant O come ye, o come ye to Bethlehem Come and behold Him Born the King of Angels! O come, let us adore Him O come, let us adore Him O come, let us adore Him Christ the Lord

The song graced the room with remembrance of years gone by. Memories were shared around the table as if each one were a treasure waiting to be opened. There was the time Bob played Santa for all of the town’s children and the time Ida burned the turkey and under cooked the mashed potatoes. Times where Christmas was scarce in the way of material goods but the thing that was always present was the love and joy of family who gathered in this very room. You could almost feel the presence of loved ones long gone when the room was full of Christmas cheer. This year was perhaps the smallest gathering the Browning family had experienced. Wth many of the men gone away to war and the women needing to keep up at home, the room was nearly empty. Today the space belonged to Joseph and Felicity who owned the old farm house, their daughter Catherine and her family which consisted of her husband (back from war on clerical error) and their three daughters – Elizabeth, Ann and Rosie.
As the four adults sat around the table discussing matters pertaining to the war and how the world would change because of it, the young girls ventured into their grandparents attic, where they were sure to find something to occupy their imaginations. The farm house was built almost a hundred years ago and the attic was full of relics from days gone by. There were clothes to play dress up with, books, cans and paper scraps for the war effort, letters from their grandparents courting days and various other boxes that had not yet been explored. Elizabeth – being the oldest girl – was in charge of making sure whatever they took out to look at was handled properly and restored to its original place once they were done looking at it. The girls could play for hours up in their grandparents attic, dreaming they were homesteaders, princesses from far away land, or nurses treating soldiers who came home wounded from the war. Perhaps their favorite part of the attic was the old window that looked out over their grandfathers tree farm. Depending on the time of the day, if one looked hard enough sometimes they could spot a family of deer or a rabbit scampering across the snow.
Later that afternoon the two older girls would go out with their grandfather on his horse drawn sleigh and choose a tree to put in the living room. It was their Christmas Eve tradition, and even though Christmas would be frugal this year, Grandmother had promised them they could decorate the tree with strings of popcorn, cranberries and dried orange slices. Once Rosie was down for her nap, Elizabeth and Ann grabbed their winter clothing and dressed by the fire as their grandfather prepared the sleigh. Joseph made sure to grab a mug of hot chocolate not knowing how long they would be out in the cold weather. He looked forward to this sweet tradition all year long. All bundled up, the girls climbed up onto the sleigh and nuzzled into their grandfather who was at the reigns. Off they went, on search of the perfect Christmas tree.
Back inside the warm house Grandmother worked to prep the popcorn while Mother gathered the cranberries and dried orange slices. As she worked she recalled the times from her childhood when she would go out with her brothers to help their dad find the fullest tree they could fit into the living room of the farm house. She took a moment to silently pray that her brothers, both off at war now, would make it home safely to their families. Catherine could not imagine life without John and Arthur. Just as her thoughts started to tumble into despair, her mother interrupted her thinking “I received a letter from John this morning.” Catherine smiled to herself, ever since she was little her mother had had that uncanny way of reading her thoughts. “Oh mother! What does he have to say?” Catherine hoped for good news but felt her breath as it caught in her chest, one never knew with the news of the war seeming to grow worse each passing day. “I was planning to read it this evening around the dinner table, but it is all good news.”
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief just as she heard nearly two year old Rosie waking up in the room adjacent to where they had been working. Rosie was an easy baby, she had been a ray of sunshine in an otherwise gloomy world. When Thomas and Catherine had learned of their third pregnancy in 1941 it didn’t come as a surprise as it had only been a handful of weeks since Tom had been home from the war. Their older two girls, then 6 and 4 had wanted a baby brother, however as soon as they met Rosie they had fallen in love. She was a beautiful baby, named Rosie after her mother Catherine Rose, with rosy cheeks to complement her christening.

…To be Continued …

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