Archive for the ‘Parent’ Category

This weekend for the first time, I was a participating author in the LA Times Book Fair held at the gorgeous UCLA campus.

I shared a tent with other authors from Premiere Writers, a Ning Social Network site for authors.  All of them were simply great people; very warm and engaging.  We worked in shifts (one in the morning and one in the afternoon) and in our free time I walked around the campus with my hubby, attracting a lot of attention with my medieval costume.

On several occasions I had complete strangers (mostly college age students) come up to me in groups and ask to take a photo with me. It was so fun! It was the next best thing to being a Disney Princess!

The weather could not have been more gorgeous and though I am exhausted and my house is a mess, it was a really neat experience to take part in. It wasn’t too bad having a picture taken with “William Shakespeare” either!

The view from the "hill"

Me and Bill Shakespeare

Please read THIS

The increasing news of countless teens committing suicide or mass homicide as a result of bullying is everywhere and on everyone’s minds. Why are children so intentionally cruel to one another? Why do so many behave like savage animals when it comes to their peers? How can we identify and fix this seemingly insurmountable problem?

It wasn’t always this way but it seems to be on the rise. Why? Many (like me) would argue that it is the natural consequence of having abandoned moral teachings based upon the Bible in our schools. Since the Bible and God are considered persona non grata in the public square, how can we, as authors who have faith, share the concepts of compassion, mercy, honesty, perseverance in a way that communicates these values to our young people without coming off sounding “preachy”?

I think Bill Bennett, the former Education Czar had it right when he compiled and produced The Book of Virtues. It contained stories that exemplified all of the above listed virtues in such a way as to compel the reader to feel compassion for the poor Little Match Girl and The Little Mermaid. Who hasn’t watched the film “Rudy” starring Sean Astin, and not found themselves cheering him on when he finally achieved his ultimate dream of playing for Notre Dame after years of persevering?

These are all wonderful stories that have much to teach us. They have a way of winding into our hearts and planting a seed there that when mature, can blossom and grow a young person into someone who has compassion, who can persevere through trials, be courageous in the face of danger, and do what is right when no one is looking.

This is where inspirational fiction authors can play an important role; especially in our nation’s schools. Schools are looking for ways to stem the tide of viscious and mindless cruelty of its students (with its’ often violent aftermath) and to redirect their minds and energies into something that is positive and uplifting.

A brand new program called Creativity Counts is being launched in my area with the cooperation of American Christian Fiction Writers. It will bring inspirational books into the classroom and give actual “face time” between authors and students. Authors who can provide living examples that hopefully will encourage and inspire students to explore their own creativity in positive and healthy ways. A rising tide lifts all boats, or so the saying goes. There is much inspiration to be had and inspirational authors are answering the call to see what they can do to reach out and connect with the next generation; hopefully it’s not too late turn this boat around and right its course.

I am also trying to do my own small part in this regard. In addition to my novel, The Victor, I also write “Wish Fulfillment” stories for people where they are the “star” of their own story. Some have been deeply inspirational and have brought the person (and family members) to tears; while others have just been fun (such as a young teenaged girl meeting her “literal” knight in shining armor in her local mall). All are written upon request as my gift in the hopes that it will comfort a hurting heart and or spur one on to wait for her prince to come. These stories can be found both on my book website and my blog at: http://wishfulfillmentstories.blogspot.com/

22
Apr

Review - The Book Fae

   Posted by: marlaynegiron

My Review:

“Fencing. Fighting. Torture. Poison. True love. Hate. Revenge.  Bad men. Good men. Beautifulest ladies. .  Pain. Death. Brave men. Cowardly men. Strongest men. Chases. Escapes. Lies. Truths. Passion. Miracles.” This book has it all.
Once I started it, it only took me about two hours to read. Marlayne gave me this book for my birthday on the condition that I review it on my blog and spread the word about it, if I liked it. Well, I’m reviewing it and spreading the word – because I really, really liked it. While not perfect, this book had pretty much everything to make a timeless tale of true love.
I was really impressed with how well done the many allegorical strains in the book were. The romance was good and not too mushy, nor inappropriate, the violence was good (you hate Lucius. I mean, really, truly hate. Eewww. Nasty) and the characters were good as well. (Goodness, I’ll be Llyonesse’s age in a few days! *grin*)
If you want a good book that is a fairly quick read but is well worth its price, buy this book. I really, really enjoyed it.
Marlayne, you made me mad, though, I have to tell you. Honestly!! My favorite character Penlorian and you had the SHEER AFFRONTERY to -  to – I won’t say it and spoil it for the readers, but honestly, couldn’t you have done it to someone else!??

Age: 15+

5 out 5 stars!!

17
Apr

The Christy Awards

   Posted by: marlaynegiron Tags: , , , ,

From the site: 

History

In the spring of 1999, nearly a dozen Christian publishers confirmed the need for establishing a Christian fiction award to recognize novelists and novels of excellence in several genres of Christian fiction. By late summer, ideas and planning had come together to launch The Christy Award, named in honor of Catherine Marshall’s novel and of her contribution to growth of the fiction Christians love to read.
The Christy Award is designed to:

  • Nurture and encourage creativity and quality in the writing and publishing of fiction written from a Christian worldview.
  • Bring a new awareness of the breadth and depth of fiction choices available, helping to broaden the readership.
  • Provide opportunity to recognize novelists whose work may not have reached bestseller status.

Last November my book was submitted for this prestigous award. About a month ago, having given it no prior thought, I had a dream which I actually remembered upon waking up (a rare event for me) that I had won this award.  i told my husband, Michael about (just in case). 

A week later, we get Chinese food with the usual fortune cookie and I had this weird feeling that the fortune I got was going to be special.  This is what my fortune cookie message said:

“You will be honored with a prestigious prize or award”

The nominees will be announced on April 30th.  Dare I even hope?

Tonight I went to my church “alma mater”, Calvary Chapel, to celebrate a very special 25th Anniversary Event; the birth of our local Christian Radio Station KWVE (The Wave of Living Water), 107.9 on our FM Dial.  Featured tonight was one of my favorite groups as a young Christian in the late 1970’s, Love Song (I still have the original vinyl album) and Evie Carlson whose song, “Oh Let the Son of God Enfold You…” acted as the theme song which preceded every bible study from Pastor Chuck Smith of Calvary Chapel.  

Pastor “Chuck” suffered a mild stroke just after Christmas this past year, but he is still preaching and he gave a brief but wonderfully simple Gospel message and altar call as Love Song sang the song they had written about Calvary Chapel when it was out in the middle of nowhere (hidden amongst the bean fields and orange groves) of Orange County and had only 225 members. (Calvary Chapel now boasts a membership of thousands locally as well as all over the world and has spawned little “Calvary Chapels” in every state as well as overseas.) 

As a young teenaged girl, I used to commute 50 miles each way every Saturday to hear the different Christian Groups perform (Love Song, The Archers, Kelly Willard, Second Chapter of Acts, Keith Green, Daniel Amos, Parable) and always left feeling like I had Jesus riding shotgun with me all the way home.  Fortunately for my poor Toyota Corolla, I was able to move to Orange County in 1979 and attend more frequently.  Back then, Calvary Chapel was considered the “Carnegie Hall” of Contemporary Christian Music.  I was more than just a spectator with the genre. When I was 21 I worked at the Christian version of  ”Rolling Stone Magazine” called Contemporary Christian Music Magazine and got to meet my favorite artist a year before he died, Keith Green.  I think I even talked to my future husband on the phone before we ever met when he called to find out why his subscription had gone missing.  

I owe much to Calvary Chapel. I went through the entire Old & New Testaments using tapes I checked out from their Tape Lending Library. Pastor Chuck (as well as Walter Martin and Chuck Missler) all gave me a very grounded (and thorough) education in the Bible for which I will be eternally grateful. 

Pastor Chuck is too humble to admit it, but I really think that he is a national treasure.  Though he has a congregation of “millions” he still took the time out of his busy schedule to review my book, The Victor, before it went into publication simply because I asked (when he didn’t even know me from Adam…or Eve in my case). The world is a much better place beause of him and his dedication to teaching the simple and whole Word of God without apology. 

Pastor Chuck Smith

Love Song's First Album

The Band (as they looked in the 70s)

Happy Sweet 16th Birthday, Mirriam!

As a result of my book being published I have made a lot of new and wonderful friends. One of them being Mirriam (Earwen). She and I are kindred LOTR spirits.  I wrote a Wish Fulfillment Story for her called The Magic Quill and had her appearing in Middle Earth (Lothlorien to be exact) as an elf and also love interest of Legolas.

Despite several hundred miles and several decades separating us, we have become good buddies so for her sweet 16th birthday this year, I decided to “make her day”.  I shipped off three boxes full of my 30 year old collection of Lord of the Rings books and collectibles (including the movie DVD’s) as well as my own book with Lesson Plan and Student Workbook.  I figured that they had gathered enough dust and that someone new should enjoy them and the first person I thought of was Mirriam.

She is one of the few teenagers I know who can quote from one of my family’s favorite movies: The Court Jester starring Danny Kaye. What a gem!

So Mirriam-girl - HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

The Reaction

Sheer Delight

Three's the Charm!

This was my third signing at this particular Barnes & Noble and I have to say it’s my favorite bookstore!  The manager there is so wonderful and treats me like gold.

Unlike most authors I truly love to do book signings. I love to meet new people and chat with them whether or not they buy a book.  Today was a very good day. Twenty-three books in 3 hours but what was the nicest thing was getting to meet so many friendly faces and the families that came with them.  So a big THANK YOU to each of you who posed for a photo with me and while you’re here on my website, take a look around and read some of the “wish fulfillment” stories I told you about that I would be happy to write for you (or someone you know). Just click on the Month archive link or the Wish Fulfillment link and feel free to post any comments you like. 

I didn’t think to write down the names of most of you that posed for a picture so if you could please email me your first names I’ll add them to the caption under your photo. Email is: [email protected].

It was so nice to meet each and every one of you and I hope to hear back from you after you have read The Victor! Please feel free to email me anytime.

Marlayne Giron

Picture 1: Please email me your names

 

Picture 2: Please email me your name

PIcture #3: Please send me your names (except for MacKenzie!)

Picture #4: Please email me your names!

Lynn & Gary Newell - she is a INCREDIBLE ARTIST

Picture 5: Please email me all your names

Picture #7: please email me your first names

Picture 8: please email me your names!

Wendy and Me (she's an AVID book reader!)

Picture 10: Please email me your name

"Mallow-Mar and Book Candy Sandy"

12
Mar

Sword of the Spirit

   Posted by: marlaynegiron Tags: , , ,

“I am a native Michigander; have lived in Michigan all of my life.  I grew up in a home headed by my mother and grandmother.  My parents were divorced before I was born, and I did not have a father figure of any kind.  I accepted Jesus as my Savior in 1987; subsequently turned my back and went back into the world.  I returned to Him in 2001 and will not be going back.  Returning to the Lord reminded me of the joy I had been missing. This time, I felt like Peter, who said, when Jesus asked His Twelve Disciples in John 6:67 “You do not want to leave too, do you?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”  I am married to the most gentle and wonderful man in the world, Fred, and am the ‘mother’ of two amazing English Cocker Spaniels, Toby (born in 1995) and Shelby (born in 2004, a year before our wedding date!).  I enjoy reading, movies, music, marathons, traveling, serving on the Video Tech Team and as a Women’s Ministry Life Group Leader at church and blogging at http://andrealschultz.blogspot.com.

My wish is to be able to put the past behind and live the rest of my life for His glory.”

                Andrea was dreaming…or so she assumed…for suddenly she found herself standing, in of all places, a blacksmith’s shop and an ancient one at that.  She stood and watched in fascination as he worked and slowly became aware that she was not standing there alone. She looked to her side and then up…up…up to find a ten foot tall, incredibly gorgeous angel standing next to her. He didn’t exactly look like an angel…he had no wings and no flowing white robes but someone she knew…he was definitely an angel. Her angel. Her guardian angel. He looked down upon her with eyes full of love and affection and then silently directed her attention back to the smithy.

                The large burly man was sweating profusely and hammering away with his hammer and tongs upon a long metal object.  Andrea could feel the heat from the furnace but when the Blacksmith plunged the metal shaft into the heart of it, she felt as though it was she. Tears sprung to her eyes and she found herself unable to breathe until once again he withdrew the metal and began pounding away on it again, flipping it over and over, tempering it relentlessly.  Now she could feel each stroke of the hammer, it didn’t exactly hurt but every time the hammer fell, she sensed it. She began to panic when she saw him readying to plunge the metal again into the white hot fire and the angel put his arm about her. This time she felt only warmth. Slowly she began to comprehend…she was the metal!

                At that instant, the blacksmith looked up and straight at her. While his exterior was large, burly and muscular (with rivulets of sweat pouring down him) there was no mistaking his eyes! A tingle rushed up her spine.

                Several more hours passed as he worked the metal, alternating between holding it to the fire, beating it down, plunging into the water and repeating the process over and over again. Finally it was done and when he had finished it was a thing of beauty. He had affixed a magnificent hilt bestudded with gemstones and gilded with gold to the end and upon the flat of the blade he had etched a glorious design. Then he carefully wrapped it in a cloth, picked up another shaft of metal about the same size and walked out of the smithy.  Andrea and her angel followed along afterwards, walking just behind him as he wove his way up a winding road to a magnificent castle upon a hill. No one seemed to take notice of any of them and he continued walking, crossing through the main entrance and finally into a glorious throne room that no words could describe.  Andrea felt herself begin to tremble.  Even the touch of her angel’s hand upon her shoulder couldn’t quiet her tremors.   Except for the King who sat upon the throne and two knights upon either side, the throne room was empty. The blacksmith knelt upon one knee before him and presented both the tempered sword and the unworked shaft of steel to the King.

                He lifted both in his hands then handed one to each of the knights upon either side of him. With a quick bow, they took up the sword and shaft and steel and began to circle each other, moving away from the throne, Andrea and her angel. It was over in seconds. The very first blow shattered the untempered steel into shards which flew in all directions. The pieces passed right through Andrea and  her angel as if they weren’t even there.

                The knight returned the gorgeous sword to the King with a bow, who held it aloft in his hands and admired its beauty. As he turned it this way and that, his smile broadened and with a nod to the worthy blacksmith, he laid it upon his knees.

                “The workmanship is exquisite!” said the King to the blacksmith approvingly.

                “But what of the other sword, your majesty?” asked the Blacksmith, acting as though the shards were not scattered about his feet.

                “Useless,” replied the King. “Did you not see how it could not bear up under pressure, how it shattered at the least insult? It was not tempered in the fire nor by the forge, therefore it is useless.”

Upon these words the King looked directly at Andrea and beckoned her forward. With her knees knocking, she stepped slowly forward, irresistibly drawn to Him despite her fear. She stood only inches before him and felt his arms go about her in a fatherly embrace.

                “You resent and wish to forget the years of your tempering, do you not, my daughter?” He said, his eyes kind and understanding. Andrea nodded, her emotions welling up. Her chin fell upon her chest and her shoulders began to heave. Pent up years of hurt, embarrassment and pain welled up inside of her and bubbled over like a gushing fountain. The King’s other arm went about her and he held her close as she sobbed and wailed until she felt cleansed inside and out. His hands then went up to cup her cheeks and his wonderful, penetrating eyes searched those of her own deeply.

                “I know every pain,” He whispered softly. “I have experienced every sorrow right beside you,” Andrea looked at him and suddenly it was the King and it wasn’t. It was the blacksmith and the King and upon his body were the bruises that he had shared with her and also taken for her.

                “Only the finely tempered steel is worthy to serve in the army of the King.” He whispered, bending forward and placing a tender kiss between her eyebrows. “Go in peace, my daughter, and never resent nor regret the tempering of thy spirit.”

                With those words Andrea suddenly found herself sitting up in her bed staring at the nightstand clock which read 3:00am. Had it really all been only a dream? Suddenly she got the distinct impression someone was grinning at her. She turned her head and practically screamed aloud; almost waking Fred up. Next to her bedside stood her angel and this time he had his wings on and his glowing white robes.

                He started dissolving like so much sugar in a cup of hot tea.

                “Wait!” hissed Andrea, reaching for him. “At least tell me your name!”

                “Rupert!” he responded, solidifying just a bit. “And, yes, I have always been by your side, since the moment you were born.”

                “Always?” breathed Andrea feeling both blessed and disappointed at the same time. “Then…why…?”  The unspoken insinuation hung in the air, despite everything she had just experienced. Rupert bent down and cupped her cheek in his hand, reminding her again of the King/Blacksmith.

                “There are many things I did protect you from, my little one,” he whispered, his eyes full of love and compassion for her, “but you will never know of them and that is as it should be. Let it be sufficient to know that all you have gone through has made you the child of God you are today, a finely tempered sword in the hand of the eternal King!”

                Finally it sunk in and Andrea bowed her head in submission. Before he faded away from her eyesight, she felt his kiss upon her bowed head.                                                                                                                                                        

                “We are with you always,” came his faint voice like a sigh upon the wind and with that, Andrea sunk back into a peaceful sleep; her heart much more at peace than it had been in many years.

THE END

March 4th, 2010 - For the first time in about ten years I went to an Amy Grant concert at the Smother’s Theater on the campus of Pepperdine University in Malibu.  I didn’t know what to expect. I had worn my official “Friends of Amy” lacquered ID tag so I would be allowed to do the “meet and greet” and had come armed with the copy of The Victor she had signed, an extra copy (just in case) for her or her daughter (Corinna), Her “Father’s Eyes” album for her to autograph (which contained the song that inspired my book) as well as a copy of the Lesson Plan that goes with the book….just in case I had the time to mention it.

If only I could have made the sound check at 4pm that day but getting to Malibu from South Orange County on a Thursday afternoon made it impossible although traffic was pretty good (for L.A.). We ate at The Sunset Restaurant, a cute place right smack on the beach and then headed over to Pepperdine where I was informed that Amy would not be doing a meet and greet that day as she was flying out early the next am to Cabo San Lucas to meet up with Vince Gill her husband.

OH….BUMMER.

She doesn’t tour as much as she used to and probably won’t in the future either. We are all getting up there in age and I’m sure it’s exhausting. It was, however, a great concert in a very intimate setting. I sat only 50 feet away from her but it might as well have been 500 feet for I never even got a chance to shake her hand. I’ll just have to wait until we meet up in heaven!

Here below are the pics.

Rocking out to guitar solo

Do I look pouty enough?

The Sunset Restaurant

Amy Doing what She Does Best

7
Mar

Clay in the Potter’s Hands

   Posted by: marlaynegiron Tags: , , , , , ,

“The story below was requested by Donna’s close friend, Marian. Donna is currently in ICU on a ventilator and quite depressed.  She is an artist, very bright, outgoing, and very creative.  She has had a difficult life involving divorce and has a son in his 20’s who has a hard time with her chronic illness issues. Donna has severe osteoporosis from steroid use in treating her allergies, asthma and lung conditions. She is in her early 50s.   She also has a lot of pain due to osteoarthritis/osteoporosis and sequelae. I think her dream would be to have shop when she could work as an artist and sell her artwork/crafts. She draws/paints beautifully and is incredibly creative with decorating and crafts. She makes her own greeting cards when she feels up to it.”

The sound of the respirator filled Donna’s ears morning, noon, and all night making it difficult to sleep well. Her chest hurt, actually her entire body hurt and life looked very, very bleak and hopeless.  Donna glanced out her door at the nearby nurse’s station, wishing she could trade places with any of the people she saw standing there instead of having to be tethered to a machine simply to breath. How she longed to be free of her chronic illnesses and to just live and be creative with the gifts God had given her.

It seemed like her life was in a wasteland of limbo and she was worried about her son who had had to put up with a mom who, through no fault of her own, had been chronically ill with respiratory issues most of his life.  Now all the medication she had taken to help her in the short term was taking a toll on her body in the long term.

A single hot tear of frustration rolled down her cheek, instantly dried by the air of the ventilation mask. At that moment she felt a gentle hand brush her cheek and remove the mask. For an instant she panicked, knowing that the removal of the mask spelled big trouble but when she looked up to see who had removed it, her heart nearly stopped. It couldn’t be. Was she dreaming? Did she just die?

The figure half sitting on her hospital bed smiled at her and that smile sent waves of glorious, intense love flowing over her like a mighty river. His eyes gazed upon her with a brilliance of pure, unadulterated love and total acceptance.

“Take my hand, Donna,” said the Savior, reaching for hers. She didn’t think twice but laid her small cold hand inside that of her Redeemer’s. It was warm and the touch of his hand upon hers sent a thrill coursing up her spine. “Come with me,” he said, standing. Donna stood, unable to tear her eyes away from his face, drowning in the pulsating waves of love that flowed outwards from Him and surrounded her in a warm cocoon.

Suddenly she found herself in a different place. She was in an art studio – a studio that made her pea green with envy for it was everything she had always imagined for herself were she healthy and rich enough to have it. It was filled with glorious light and had everything an artist would ever want or need.

“This is all for you,” said the Lord, putting his arm about her shoulders and turning her about so she could see everything.

“Lord,” said Donna, totally confused. “Did I just die? Am I in heaven?”

“No,” He smiled at her. “This is just a little vacation.” He gestured to all the art supplies. “Enjoy yourself and make something for Me.” He said, giving her a wink. In that instant He disappeared. Donna stood in slack jawed amazement and regarded her surroundings again, going from drafting table and then from shelf to shelf to inspect everything more closely. Outside birds sang and the breeze smelled of honeysuckle and orange blossoms. She suddenly jumped up and down in glee, rubbing her hands together. She felt great! No pain, no difficulty breathing, no aches! She had never felt so physically free in all her life! She got out the acrylic paints and a blank canvass and proceeded to paint something beautiful for her wonderful Lord. She soon lost herself in her work and painted with gusto.  After what seemed hours she paused and stepped back to see what her hands had wrought and frowned. This is not what she had been trying to paint! The colors were all different than what she had used and the painting made absolutely no sense. It looked like an angry child had taken a bunch of finger paints and used every color there was until it all blended into one large blackish/greenish mess. She just couldn’t figure out what had happened! She set the canvass aside; there was no way she was going to give that as her gift to her Savior! It had turned out hideous!

Perhaps a different medium? She went to the cabinet and found stamping supplies, a heat gun, glitter, ink pens and embossing powders. She would do an elaborate Valentine card to Jesus to tell Him how much she loved Him!

She sat down at a different table and worked meticulously. She didn’t want to over do it and make it look messy and cluttered; she wanted it to express her heart of gratitude for this respite away from her sickbed in the hospital. Hours later, when she felt it was perfect, she looked upon it and cried aloud in pain and disappointment. It was hideous!! What was wrong with her? Nothing she put her hands to do to make for Him was turning out right! Donna felt like crying with frustration. This surely wasn’t heaven! Heaven was not supposed to be a place of frustration! She looked around the room again.  She would try one last time to make something lovely and meaningful for Him.  She found a potter’s wheel and a lump of clay on it. She had never worked with clay before but since nothing had turned out right in the mediums she was good at, perhaps this time would be the charm.

She put on an apron, sat on the stool before the gently spinning wheel and began to experiment. First she tried a bowl but it came out lopsided. Then she tried a vase but her hand bumped the clay just as she had it almost the way she wanted and the entire thing collapsed into a misshapen mess. Donna was frustrated beyond belief and so disappointed with herself. Somehow she knew the time was quickly approaching when Jesus would return and she had achieved nothing but making a mess of everything she had tried to make for Him. Her head hung low with shame and she began to sob hot angry tears of frustration and grief.

“Do not weep, my beloved,” said a gentle voice behind her. Donna half-jumped out of her skin in surprise but was instantly calmed as His arms circled about her and lifted the lumpy misshapen object from the Potter’s wheel to admire it.

“I’m so sorry, Lord!” she said, trying not to sound like a whiny baby. “I tried so hard to make you something beautiful because I love You so much and nothing came out right!”

“I do not know what you mean!” Jesus replied, his eyes looking at her with a knowing smile. “It’s absolutely lovely!” Donna looked from His face to the clay back to His then did a double take. In His hands the clay had become an exquisite long-necked urn with swan-neck handle from which to pour water from. Donna’s mouth hung open…at a total loss as to what to say. Jesus turned and went to where her painting sat on the easel, covered with a cloth to hide it’s ugliness. He threw back the cover and admired it with a great big smile. It was a lovely pastoral scene of sheep grazing peacefully in a flower bedecked field under a cloudless sky.

“Beautiful!” He said, turning about to smile upon her. He then crossed to the drafting table and lifted the large Valentine card she had made for him. He read her words in silence, closed His eyes in sheer delight and then gave her such a grateful smile it took her breath away.

Donna did not understand what was happening at all! Jesus again reached out his hand to hers and she walked forward into His warm embrace.

Suddenly they were back in her hospital room and He was again sitting on her bed.

Lord, she thought in her head since she couldn’t speak with the ventilator over her mouth, this was a lesson of some kind for me, wasn’t it?

Yes, He nodded, holding both of her hands in His. Even though you think what you created as gifts for Me seemed to be a mess, because you did them out of  love, they are exquisite in My eyes. Now let us take your life…do you think your life is a mess?

Donna hung her head, nodding, feeling deeply again the depression and hopelessness that had been her companion for so many years.

In My eyes you are perfect! Gorgeous. Exquisite! He said, his silent words piercing her dark heart like a beam of sunlight. You are the clay in My hands and though the way I fashion you may seen harsh and ugly, it is beautiful in My sight. I am making of you a heavenly vessel. You may think you have become useless and decrepit but I see you as gold in the refining fire of my love. It isn’t pleasant and it doesn’t feel fair but when you come out on the other end, you will be My treasure. Can you now see what measure of trust I have placed in you to allow you to endure so much for Me?

For you, Lord? Donna responded. But I thought that this was all just bad luck and living in a sick sinful world. I could do so much more for You if only I weren’t sick all the time!

But you already do as much for Me as I would ever want! responded the Savior, cupping her cheeks in His hands. Despite all the pain and all the suffering, you still demonstrate child like trust in Me. How could I want anything more than that?

Donna had no come back for that. Suddenly a nurse entered the room to check on her. She took no notice of the Savior sitting on the bed but before leaving, Jesus whispered something only she seemed to hear and she tucked the covers around Donna’s perpetually cold feet and legs and then paused to bow her head and offer a silent prayer before leaving the room again.

Did you give her the idea to do that, Lord?

Yes, of course! Came His gentle response. Every act of kindness, every thoughtful gesture, every visitor who comes to see You to offer their love and encouragement is my personal emissary so that you will know that I am acutely aware of you at every moment of every day. I will send them to you now and then as a gentle reminder of My eternal love and care for you. While I may allow you to have suffering in this life, it cannot be compared to the glory that awaits you in the next. Continue to trust in Me, beloved. I will never fail thee nor forsake thee and when this brief life on earth is over, that art studio you visited today will be waiting for you.

With those words of encouragement branding themselves upon her soul, Donna fell into a peaceful sleep, feeling as though her Savior’s arms were wrapped about her like a blanket with His warm cheek next to hers.

THE END

Curated selection