Monthly Archives: June 2014

30 06, 2014

BREAKING NEWS – New Book Release!

By |2014-06-30T06:00:44-05:00June 30th, 2014|Make Me Think Monday|0 Comments

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I’m interrupting our regular Make Me Think Monday blog for some personal news. I promise I’m not turning View from the Front Porch into a promo blog–it’s just I’m so excited about my new inspirational series debuting today.

When Love Blooms is now available for purchase for your Kindle. Nook and paperback versions will soon be ready too.

JP1600.2400After a hit-and-run accident leaves her mother confined to a special care facility, Darcy Clark abandons her dream of an art career. Instead, she focuses on helping her father run the struggling family landscape business. She has no time or interest in romance.

When at-risk students from her old high school become her labor force on a city park project, their teacher Andy Fitzpatrick shows up to help and keep an eye on his kids. The chemistry between Darcy and Andy is instant.

Darcy dares to daydream about the possibility of a happily-ever-after until a dark secret connecting Andy to her mother’s accident comes to light. But will the secret kill their attraction before romance can blossom?

If you’ve been around church long then you know the term PK (preacher’s kid), When Love Blooms is the first in the Fitzpatrick family series of novellas about the siblings of Pastor Colin Fitzpatrick and his wife Patricia, who live in a small town in central Texas.

The idea for this new series came from my many years of service in church ministry.

The fact I also happen to be the wife of a PK and the mother of a PhD theologian/preacher means I’ve got lots of good stuff planned for the other seven siblings of the Fitzpatrick family.

I hope you’ll enjoy reading When Love Blooms as much as I loved writing about Andy and Darcy’s love story.

Click here to get your Kindle copy.

 

 

 

27 06, 2014

More Pet Therapy – Miller Farm Friday

By |2014-06-27T06:00:08-05:00June 27th, 2014|Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

A Guest Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

Our oldest daughter lives in Abilene, Texas as a student at Hardin Simmons University.  She spent her freshman year in the dorm then moved to a campus apartment.  This summer she has moved to a house owned by the university—a  converted duplex. It is very cute.

Her bedroom is one of the former living rooms so it’s large with lots of windows and its own entrance.  She uses the extra kitchen as a “coffee bar.”  I went to visit her last week and we had a great time.

I left on Wednesday morning. Thursday evening she called sounding distressed because Abilene was experiencing hail – very large hail.hail

The hail had come through the double paned windows into her room.

It was very frightening for her.

Fortunately her house has a carport so her car and her roommate’s car were unharmed. Beekeeper Brian aka her daddy told her to report the damage to the campus police and have them come secure the house.

When she called, she was number eight on the campus list. It turns out every north facing window on campus was broken as well as those in the nearby hospital.

Nearly a week later, the windows still haven’t been replaced. Ever resourceful, Catherine and her roommate used duct tape and plastic tablecloths to patch the holes temporarily.

samOver the weekend, Catherine acquired a kitten which she named Sam.

Catherine is already the proud owner of a dog – Bella – but her college schedule is not conducive to caring for a dog – especially one as special as Bella.

So she and her roommate decided to get a cat for the summer.  Sam came from Catherine’s boyfriend’s family and can be returned when school starts if keeping him becomes too difficult.

One of Catherine’s first comments was “Now I am responsible for a living thing.”  Yes, yes you are, I thought.

I remember having that same reaction when we brought Catherine home from the hospital. It was a little overwhelming at first.  Then instincts kick in and suddenly you become responsible.

Catherine must remember to feed the cat. And when the cat gets frightened, she must comfort it.  This is offers a different level of pet therapy.  Instead of being comforted or amused, a pet owner sometimes has to be brave and strong. Valuable traits and worth instilling in any human.

The next time Abilene has a storm, I can imagine Catherine putting on her brave face and cuddling Sam. They’ll both feel better when the storm passes.

26 06, 2014

Mother by Mother. Battle by Battle.

By |2014-06-26T06:00:31-05:00June 26th, 2014|Guest blogger|3 Comments

A Guest Blog by Jody Payne

June. Time to shop for a swimsuit. Sob! But that’s another blog for another day. Don’t ask. I can’t discuss it. Not until I lose about a thousand pounds.

Anyway, a friend and I decided to face the inevitable and support each other through this tragedy of middle-aged shopping. We were determined to find swimsuits that showed off our awesomeness while hiding the bulges that go with it. There must be one out there.

swimsuit shoppingBy the way, don’t put this off until school is out like we did. It’s intimidating shopping next to a hundred pound eighteen year old. We found ourselves at the swimsuit rack standing next to a mother shopping with her teenage daughter.

The daughter had a lot to learn about respect, but frankly, so did the mother. It was pitiful and the argument escalated until it ended with the mother saying between clenched teeth, “Just who do you think you are?”

I understood the woman’s frustration. Her daughter was determined to buy a bikini that would have made the average Brazilian blush while doing the samba on a nude beach.

My friend and I glanced at each other with a mutual cringe. I happen to know that my friend has heard this demeaning phrase more than once from her own mother.

My first response was to get out of there. Quick. I glanced around the room looking for the nearest exit.

However, my friend put her hand on the teenager’s arm and said, “I’ll tell you who you are. You are a beautiful young woman with a beautiful body. You have every right to be proud of it. Just remember this, it’s yours, and yours alone. It doesn’t belong to anyone else. Because you do have a beautiful body, other people are going to want to possess it. Control it. Don’t let them. Don’t give it away. Don’t let them use you. What is yours is yours and yours alone. Their greediness is their problem, not yours. Take a tip from Gypsy Rose Lee who said, ‘Always leave them wanting to see more.’ That woman was a famous burlesque queen who left the stage modestly clothed amid standing ovations from hungry eyed men.”

The girl was stunned into silence. So my friend used the reprieve to pull several more suitable suits (pun intended) from the rack and hand them to the girl. “Try these on. They’ll look great on you.”

I think the girl was too shocked to argue with these clueless adults so she took the suits and stomped into the dressing room. Probably just to escape us.

After a few minutes, she pulled back the curtain from the dressing room and she peeked out timidly. I realized I was holding my breath. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one because when she emerged there was an audible exhalation of relief from all three of us.

She looked gorgeous. The one-piece suit covered her very few flaws and made the most of her admirable assets. When she saw our reaction, she lost her hunched over posture. Her head came up and her shoulders back. A wide confident smile replaced her surly frown. Princess Di would have been envious.

The mother burst into tears. She turned to my friend and said, “You nailed it. Why couldn’t I have said that?”

My friend shrugged, “Because you’re a mother. Your job is impossible. Mine is a whole lot easier. I’m a stranger.”

The mother whispered, “How can I ever thank you?”

My friend grinned. “Just pass it on to the next stranger who needs help. We can win this war. Battle by battle. Stranger by stranger. Mother by mother.”

As we exited, I looked back to a beautiful young lady hugging her mother. Tears streamed down their faces. I hope to see either those two or someone like them when my own daughter tries on her first adult bathing suit.

And so, pass it on, okay? Battle by battle. Stranger by stranger. We can win this one. Mother by mother.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

jody

Jody Payne is

a writer (fiction and non-fiction),

a horse woman (dressage, no less),

an animal lover (just ask her two rescue dogs),

and most of all she’s southern through and through.

 

You can find her on FB: https://www.facebook.com/jodypaynesays

Her website: www.jodypayne.net

23 06, 2014

Wedding Dress x 3

By |2014-06-23T06:00:46-05:00June 23rd, 2014|Make Me Think Monday|1 Comment

June is the considered the most popular month for weddings. But why? There are three reasons according to the blog on Bridetide:

  1. Our agrarian culture of the past chose wedding dates based upon the peak harvest times. If you married in June, a possible summer pregnancy would still be early enough in the season that a wife could assist with manual work during that year’s harvest period. Following the spring birth, the recovered bride would be able assist in the next year’s harvest.
  2. At one time in our culture regular bathing was a once-a-year event usually during the last part of May or beginning of June. Scheduling a wedding during June meant the couple would have had their “annual bath” and was probably the most presentable than any other time of the year.
  3. Couples schedule their weddings in June to honor Juno, the Roman goddess of marriage. Many believe marrying in June meant their marriage would be showered with luck and good wishes from the gods above.

My parents scheduled a June wedding back in 1938; possibly for reason #3. This Wednesday, on June 25, they would have been married seventy-six years. Here’s what my mother looked like on her wedding day.

Helen wedding dress pix

It was (is) a lovely dress made from imported Alençon lace. A wedding dress with a unique story to tell.

Twenty-five years after my mother and father’s June wedding, I wore the same dress. Young and anxious to start our life together, we chose May 30 for our wedding day. The reason – we’d have an extra day off work. Back then, May 30 was the Memorial Day holiday. We honeymooned near our hometown over the weekend and both returned to classes and our jobs at the University of Texas Library on Monday.

me-dress-cropped

Twenty-four years later, our daughter aka Chicken Wrangler Sara wore her grandmother’s dress at her wedding. Sara chose the second most popular month for weddings – August.

Sara dress-cropped

Three times a firstborn daughter has worn the beautiful hand stitched dress.

My mother’s mother stitched the dress for her daughter. Mother was only four feet eleven inches tall so grandmother altered the dress for me to wear, then I altered the dress for my daughter, who was a couple of inches taller than I am.

In the twenty plus years between weddings, the dress remained tucked safely in a cedar chest. I still keep it inside the small cedar chest, which was originally my mother’s hope chest.

Will a firstborn daughter wear the dress again? Who knows? My daughter’s firstborn daughter will be graduating next year. Maybe we’ll be altering the dress for her someday.

If not, the dress will continue to live in the little hope chest. And, probably, one day appear in one of the love stories I write.

20 06, 2014

Therapy Chickens – Miller Farm Friday

By |2014-06-20T06:00:37-05:00June 20th, 2014|Friday on the Miller Farm, Guest blogger, Miller Farm Friday|1 Comment

By Guest Blogger Chicken Wrangler Sara

We had a student from Uzbekistan living with us last school year. He was very quiet and spent most of his time in his room.

He came out to see the International Space Station pass overhead one night. Another time he came out to see the chickens hatching.

We had set quail eggs, bantam eggs and chicken eggs. Three bantam eggs, one chicken egg and one quail egg hatched. chick with brooder Over the process of several days, Andrey would check the incubator each morning to see the progress.

He helped me move them out to the brooder in the garage, and we stood to watch them for quite a while. He took pictures as I did.

He told me his sister had a chick one time.  She really loves animals.  He was going to send the picture to her.

It was a rare glimpse into his life far away and made me think how animals could be good for the soul.

A friend is involved in a therapy dog program that sounds wonderful. She and her dog go to the hospital to visit sick children.

We considered training one of our dachshunds to be a therapy dog and decided chickens can have an equally calming effect on people.

Watching the little quail try to hide under the bigger chicks made Andrey forget how hard it was to be so far from home. Holding the baby chicks could melt away any stress from the day.

frizzle chickOne of the bantam chicks is a frizzle – its feathers are sticking up all over just like Frizz’s feathers.

I can’t look at it without smiling.

So now, whenever I am overwhelmed, sad or just need a break, I step outside for some chicken therapy.

 

19 06, 2014

Anyone Can Live a Life of Purpose

By |2014-06-19T06:00:58-05:00June 19th, 2014|Company's Coming, Guest blogger|1 Comment

A Guest Post by Jennifer Slattery

He always arrived late, many times after most of the food had been served. He wore his curly hair and beard long, and though it was clear he did his best to tame it, his hair resisted his efforts. He spent his days at the public library, and though he had a place to stay, he spent a fair amount of time on the streets.

To passersby, he seemed odd, maladjusted, and maybe a little… off.

He was unemployed; and listening to his stories, considered by many to be unemployable.

Outside of the biweekly meals offered at Takin’ it to the Streets, a homeless ministry in the Omaha Metro, I’m not sure how he survived. I suspect he received disability or some sort of state assistance.

Although he had a sister, I’m not sure if he ever saw her, or if he had any other family to speak of. I’m not sure if he even had friends, at least, relationships you or I would deem as friendships.

To most, his situation probably seemed hopeless. I imagine, if I were in his shoes, I’d slip into a pit of despair. Or bitterness.

Likely both.

But I sat beside him, listening to him talk about his Savior, I was awed and humbled by the praise that poured fourth—a praise rooted in purpose.

For you see, this man, this child of God, knew he was here for a reason and that God had a crucial, eternal task assigned specifically to him.

He knew God was in control, even when the world seemed chaotic and hopeless. With his faith and identity so rooted in Christ, he was able to rise above his circumstances, using every moment and every encounter to share God’s goodness and truth.

He told the angry, homeless woman pushing a rusted cart that God loved her.

He shared candy others had given him with those less fortunate, and yes, though he had so very little, he did notice those who were less fortunate than he was. Because that’s what happens when we take our eyes off of ourselves and our problems and place them on our Savior—everything becomes just a little brighter, just a little more hopeful, and a great deal more eternal.

As I listened to him share about these people he had touched, witnessed to, prayed with and for, I realized just how beautiful this thing called grace is.

Because of God’s grace, we each have a purpose—a divinely-ordained and eternal task assigned to us. More than that, we are each lovingly crafted to perform that work which God assigned to us long before He even breathed life into our frail lungs.

But looking around at the hardened faces all around us, a second realization came just as quickly.

We can all lose sight of our purpose. We can become so focused on our problems and the chaos around us, we can be consumed with anger and bitterness.

The choice is ours, and it is ours to make each and every day. Which way of life will you choose?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

headshot2013Jennifer Slattery writes Missional Romance for New Hope Publishers, a publishing house passionate about bringing God’s healing grace and truth to the hopeless. She also writes for Christ to the World Ministries, Crosswalk.com, and Internet Café Devotions.

Jennifer blogs at JenniferSlatteryLivesOutLoud and you can PRE order her new release by clicking on the cover:

BeyondIDocoverMarriage . . . it’s more than a happily ever after. Eternally more. Ainsley Meadow’s encounter with a woman, her child, and their abuser sparks a passion that threatens her engagement. Will seeing beyond the present unite her and her fiancé or tear them apart?

Raised by a hedonist mother, who cycles through jobs and relationships like wrapping paper on Christmas morning, Ainsley falls into a predictable and safe relationship with Richard, a self-absorbed socialite psychiatrist. But as her wedding nears, a battered woman and her child spark a long-forgotten dream and ignites a hidden passion. One that threatens to change everything, including her fiancé. To embrace God’s best and find true love, this security-seeking bride must follow God with reckless abandon and realize that marriage goes Beyond I Do.

 

16 06, 2014

Remembering Our Fathers

By |2014-06-16T06:00:04-05:00June 16th, 2014|Holidays|1 Comment

Yesterday was Father’s Day. I hope you honored whoever is your father figure.

For some of you that person might have been a birth father. For others, it’s a stepfather or a relative or friend that serves the father role for us.

Me, I’ve been blessed with three godly men who were great examples of a father’s love, offering faith and wisdom along my way.

dvtMy father.

Daddy taught me how to fish, how to hunt, and how to dress out my bounty. He taught me how to build things, grow things, and cook around a campfire. He taught me raunchy songs and words as though I was a son, not a daughter, then reminded me to always be a lady. :)

My second father was my beloved uncle.w.t.2

Uncle Dub told me often he was Ivo Jima when he received word of my birth. A Marine through and through, he taught me to shoot straight, with a firearm and with my words. He taught me the fun of antique auctions and old things. He showed unconditional love in the tough times and tough love when needed. He was a wise counselor.

L.O.-2My third father I inherited when I married.

The father of four girls the last thing my preacher father-in-love needed was another daughter…especially one who asked hard questions. He shared his Bible wisdom and whetted my appetite for studying the Scripture. And, best of all he raised his only son to be the best husband ever and a godly father.

All three of my daddies are gone now so Father’s Day is a bit a sad for me. I miss them, but remembering them on their special day brings back special memories and makes me smile.

These three men were such a blessing in my life. As Holley Gerth says:

“One of the greatest blessings God can give us is a father whose faith passes on the heritage of the past, provides blessings in the present, and guides us with wisdom for the future.”

How about you? Do you have a father figure you count as a blessing? Someone who shared their heritage and offered guidance for the present and the future.

I’d love to hear about your daddy.

13 06, 2014

One Good Turn – Miller Farm Friday

By |2014-06-13T06:00:17-05:00June 13th, 2014|Miller Farm Friday|0 Comments

By Guest Blogger Chicken Wrangler Sara

Our neighbors are dog sitting this summer.  This is the neighbors with the chain link fence, not the privacy fence.  The dog is a large breed and our dachshunds love to run up and down the fence line with him.  His name is Zander.

One morning Matt looked out the front window and asked, “Isn’t that the dog the neighbors are watching?”

I looked and sure enough it looked just like Zander. We went outside, Matt took him by the collar, and we started walking next door.  The gate to the back yard was closed and I considered just putting Zander back in the yard but decided we probably needed to let the neighbors know there was an escape route somewhere in the fence.

We knocked on the door and heard barking – from inside.  Unless the dog we were holding was a ventriloquist, there was another dog inside.

We checked the tag. It did not say “Zander.” It did, however, have a phone number which Matt called.

Since it was an out of town number, he was hoping it was a college student who was unable to keep the dog. (Matt really wants a big dog to run with him.) The owner answered the phone and quickly came to retrieve the dog, much to Matt’s dismay.

Meanwhile, the neighbors had ignored the barking (something we did well until the fire episode) and never even came to the door. I was very glad we had not deposited the dog in the back yard.  It would have been a shock for humans and dogs.

The following week we found ourselves in the opposite role of the story.  Some boys in the neighborhood who like to check eggs accidentally left the gate open and two of our dogs escaped.

tuckerTucker just went next-door and quickly returned to our house. I guess he knows a good thing.

Bella, on the other hand, took off running as fast as she could. Think of the ginger bread boy – “Run, run as fast as you can. You can’t catch me I’m Bella.”

Rachel took off after her with Matt right behind. Matt, being much taller and faster, was able to catch up and corral Bella toward the house. He only thought he needed a big dog to run with him.

As she crossed the street, a car stopped and two people got out joining in the chase. I guess they were dog lovers also.

bella2I really believe Bella would have come on home if she had remembered which house was hers.  We finally chased her through the front door where she collapsed for the rest of the evening.

So our willingness to help a total stranger when his dog escaped was returned by total strangers who helped us get Bella home.

All of us dog lovers have to stick together.

 

12 06, 2014

CLEAR EYES, FULL HEART, CAN’T LOSE

By |2014-06-12T06:00:01-05:00June 12th, 2014|Guest blogger|1 Comment

A guest blog by Jody Payne

Sh-h-h, please don’t let on about this.

I was never a big fan of football before moving to Texas. And I admit I still don’t completely understand the game itself.

Okay, that was a lie. I have no idea what is going on out there.

A friend of mine, David Patton, way up in New Jersey, that’s someplace north of the Mason/Dixon Line, told me to watch Friday Night Lights.

We went to high school together and sat through many football games on Friday nights. He watched the games, and I hid my eyes and held my breath every time I heard that horrible crack sound of bodies crashing into each other.

But I’m older, and hopefully, made of sterner stuff now. I can take it without sobbing out loud as long as I see the player get up and walk again.

CLEAR EYESThe thing is this: Friday Night Lights is dead on. Who wrote the script anyway?

Everywhere I go in Willow Flats, people are talking about the chances that the high school team might win the game next Friday night.

Coaches get free haircuts if they will just make a few quotable comments.

Women with blue hair are delayed trying to get their grocery shopping done at the grocery store because they’re interrogated about their grandson’s chances of being able to start on Friday night.

At the feed store, farmers discuss the value of certain plays.

Plays? There are formal plays? It always looked to me like the whole idea was just to get the ball through that H shaped thingy at the end of the field. Apparently there’s more to it than that. It’s not that easy. Who knew?

I spend every Friday night sitting on a cold, hard bleacher. I watch my breath in the wind of a blue northern that has made it all the way from Canada with the sole intention of to drying up my lips and making sure I will have a sore throat when I wake up Saturday morning.

Maybe that’s the takeaway life lesson. Life isn’t always easy, but it can be a lot of fun.

What I like about the game down here is what it does for communities. Does football teach our boys that if you want something bad enough you have to endure a few bruises? That some things are worth the effort?

I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I read somewhere that Texas contributes more than its share of soldiers to our military. I wouldn’t doubt it. These people are descendants of hardy pioneers, and they strive to teach their children to do their best.

Here in Texas, living on the welfare of the government for generations is something to be gotten over with as fast as possible. Of course, sometimes it’s necessary to get a boast up, but then a Texan is expected to become self-sustaining as fast as he can and give the next person a hand up. It’s passing on the good stuff kind of society in the Lone Star state.

I’m proud of the people in my new hometown, and as much as I love to travel, I know I will always come home to Willow Flats, TX.

I can’t miss the big game on Friday night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Jody Payne is a writer (fiction and non-fiction), a horse woman (dressage, no less), an animal lover (just ask her two rescue dogs Annie and Janie or my two four-legged boys, Toby and Buster), and most of all she’s southern through and through.jody

Visit her on FB: https://www.facebook.com/jodypaynesays

Her website: www.jodypayne.net

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