Have You Said Thank You Yet?

Not what we give, but what we share, for the Gift without the Giver is bare.
~James Russell Lowell, author

Very, very tired tonight. Went a-visiting to beat the storm today :). But before it got too late, I wanted to post a short message about Christmas. Father’s homily on Christmas Day was about the gift of Jesus and while I’ve thought about this in passing in previous years, this year it really struck home.

The reason for the season (as so many church billboards remind us this time of year) is Jesus. It’s His birthday we celebrate by giving each other gifts. But what gifts do we give to Jesus? Imagine a birthday party where the guest of honor was neglected or even ignored, while all the guests spent weeks and weeks shopping for gifts for each other. Seems a bit odd, doesn’t it?

Take that one step further and imagine a party where all the guests (except the guest of honor) received a gift from the host, and nobody stopped to say thank you.

Jesus was God’s gift to us, and through Him, the gift of everlasting life. I hope during this Christmas season (because now it truly is the Christmas season, all twelve days of it :)) we all take time out to think about what that means to us, and, at the very least, say thank you.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night :). Stay safe and warm if snow is headed your way, or already there.

Merry Christmas to All!

The following is a story I got in an email from a friend this week. Enjoy :)

THE CHRISTMAS PAGEANT

My husband and I had been happily married (most of the time) for five years but hadn't been blessed with a baby. I decided to do some serious praying and promised God that if He would give us a child, I would be a perfect mother, love it with all my heart and raise it with His word as my guide.

God answered my prayers and blessed us with a son. The next year God blessed us with another son. The following year, He blessed us with yet another son. The year after that we were blessed with a daughter. My husband thought we'd been blessed right into poverty.

We now had four children, and the oldest was only four years old. I learned never to ask God for anything unless I meant it. As a minister once told me, "If you pray for rain, make sure you carry an umbrella."

I began reading a few verses of the Bible to the children each day as they lay in their cribs. I was off to a good start. God had entrusted me with four children and I didn't want to disappoint Him. I tried to be patient the day the children smashed two dozen eggs on the kitchen floor searching for baby chicks. I tried to be understanding when they started a hotel for homeless frogs in the spare bedroom, although it took me nearly two hours to catch all twenty-three frogs. When my daughter poured ketchup all over herself and rolled up in a blanket to see how it felt to be a hot dog, I tried to see the humor rather than the mess.

In spite of changing over twenty-five thousand diapers, never eating a hot meal, and never sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time, I still thank God daily for my children. While I couldn't keep my promise to be a perfect mother - I didn't even come close...I did keep my promise to raise them in the Word of God.

I knew I was missing the mark just a little when I told my daughter we were going to church to worship God, and she wanted to bring a bar of soap along to "wash up" Jesus, too.

Something was lost in the translation when I explained that God gave us everlasting life, and my son thought it was generous of God to give us his "last wife."

My proudest moment came during the children's Christmas pageant. My daughter was playing Mary, two of my sons were shepherds, and my youngest son was a wise man.
This was their moment to shine.

My five-year-old shepherd had practiced his line, "We found the babe wrapped
in swaddling clothes." But he was nervous and said, "The baby was wrapped
in wrinkled clothes." My four-year-old "Mary" said, "That's not 'wrinkled clothes,'
silly. “That's dirty, rotten clothes." A wrestling match broke out between Mary and the shepherd and was stopped by an angel, who bent her halo and lost her left wing.

I slouched a little lower in my seat when Mary dropped the doll representing Baby Jesus, and it bounced down the aisle crying, "Mama-mama." Mary grabbed the doll, wrapped it back up and held it tightly as the wise men arrived. My other son stepped forward wearing a bathrobe and a paper crown, knelt at the manger and announced, "We are the three wise men, and we are bringing gifts of gold, common sense and fur."

The congregation dissolved into laughter, and the pageant got a standing ovation. "I've
never enjoyed a Christmas program as much as this one," laughed the pastor, wiping tears from his eyes. "For the rest of my life, I'll never hear the Christmas story without thinking of gold, common sense and fur."

"My children are my pride and my joy and my greatest blessing," I said as I dug
through my purse for an aspirin.

Jesus had no servants, yet they called Him Master.
Had no degree, yet they called Him Teacher.
Had no medicines, yet they called Him Healer.
Had no army, yet kings feared Him.
He won no military battles, yet He conquered the world.
He committed no crime, yet they crucified Him.
He was buried in a tomb, yet He lives today.
Feel honored to serve such a Leader who loves us.

Have a very blessed Christmas. Enjoy the gift of Jesus, today and every day. Without Him, we wouldn't be doing all this celebrating :)

Fridays With Louis - Santa Comes Early

Sorry I bailed on you yesterday, but Santa came early this weekend. Louis got out of the hole at 8:10 on Friday night, and by 8:15 was on the phone. Said he was racing down the hall, pushing the cart with his belongings, certain he wasn't going to make it in time before they shut the phones off for the evening. But he did, catching me completely by surprise. I was in the middle of tearing my office apart, sneezing with the dust I was stirring up while looking for a manuscript I started a few years ago and just know I remember typing. Sad to say, I haven't found it yet, but did find half a dozen others I'd forgotten about, including one from 1988 which will never see the light of day, it's so bad. If that one's still here, then I know the other one is...somewhere...

Anyway, I wasn't able to see him Saturday due to the massive snowstorm moving up the East Coast, but I did get there yesterday, and after two and a half hours of traveling through a winter wonderland, we had a fun four-hour visit. Once we were laughing about something (having to do with the food again, of course) and he said, "I bet you'll blog about this," and I said, "I thought you said you didn't want me to blog about you anymore," and he said, "You can blog about stuff like this, I just don't like it when you try to explain my thoughts and feelings on things you don't understand."

Seems there's a lot of things I don't understand...and probably never will. He doesn't want people thinking my thoughts and feelings are his. So from now on I'll try to stick to what I know, and what he's been able to explain to me in person. He still doesn't know what started the fight. I find that incomprehensible, but that's just the way it is. A lot of things in prison simply don't make sense.

But he's out, he's well, and back to being his funny self. He had me in stitches and the time flew. At one point I looked at the clock and had to do a double take. Three hours had passed without me even realizing it. He noticed and asked, "You got somewhere to go?" and I had to laugh again because there have been times when I felt he was pushing me out the door and I asked the same thing.

All in all, it was a good, if exhausting day. And I'm glad I went, because it's snowing here again today.

Until Friday, then, when I'll blog about the visit. In the meantime, have yourself a Merry Little Christmas. I know I will :)

Living a Life of Authenticity

A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about being who you are. In it, I stated that those of us who are free need to be grateful for the choices we have to be who we are. Unlike my friends Marc and Louis, who have to be who they need to be to survive in prison and therefore don’t have that freedom of choice. This has sparked a healthy debate between Louis and myself, who has now pulled out of the blog, insisting he is who he is, and he doesn’t need me to make him seem better or worse. The same goes for his living conditions. They are what they are. I hope he’ll let me keep you updated on what’s going on in his life, and therefore mine, but as it stands now, I have to respect his request.

In Marc, my post has had the opposite effect. For him, it has sparked a period of self-reflection, and he’s written a couple of blog posts exploring that issue. I may post those eventually, but not today, as hoped, because we still have some issues to work out over content and context.

In the meantime, I have been looking at my own life, in light of recent posts encouraging people to reach out to others during this time of hardship and joy, which is what the holiday season is all about. I don’t understand the whole commercial Christmas phenomenon, and refuse to participate in it. Does this make me a Scrooge? Or does it just make me lazy? As I stated, I don’t decorate (I’d rather donate the time and money involved to charity) or bake (not into sugar, I think it’s toxic to our bodies) or go to parties (although I am gathering with my faith sharing group next week for some socializing and have a quiet dinner with friends planned for Christmas Eve).

This, to me, however, is as opposed to the people you get together with because you feel obligated to just because it’s Christmas. I truly enjoy the company of my faith sharing friends and look forward to an evening of visiting and catching up with their lives, since our weekly meetings are focused on scripture readings and prayer. I look forward to a Christmas Eve dinner in the company of my closest friends and family just as much.

I’m not running around in a frenzy, shopping my heart out, because I like to keep Christmas simple. Everyone I exchange gifts with has already received theirs. To me, the spirit of Christmas isn’t limited to a few weeks in December, but something I prefer to practice all year round. When I see a need, I do my best to fill it, all year long. This allows me to focus on what some call the reason for the season, and spend my time in reflection and prayer. I immerse myself in Advent, a period of self-reflection and joyful waiting for the coming of Christ, both literally, and in my daily life. It keeps me calm and grounded during a time beset with people running around frantically, driving like maniacs from store to store, literally pushing and shoving people out of the way, and getting more and more snarly by the minute.

This is supposed to be a season of joy and anticipation, and yet all I hear are grumblings about all that people have to do, aren’t getting done, don't have time to do, and how they wish Christmas would just be over and they can get back to their regular lives. It seems that somewhere along the way, we’ve lost the true meaning of Christmas, and it’s become just one more obstacle to get through in life.

This only makes me want to redouble my efforts to keep Christmas focused on Christ, and encourage others to do the same. But it’s hard, swimming against the tide of commercialism, and some days I feel like I’m living on the wrong planet, searching for an authenticity that seems extremely hard to find. I wish we could all just stop, take a deep breath, and think about what it is we really want to be doing right now. Think about what Christmas means to us as individuals, and how close or how far we are from achieving the peace and joy that Christmas symbolizes.

With that in mind today I’d like to ask my readers to take stock of what you have and what you hold dear, not just your families and friends and material possessions, but your truths and values as well, especially your truths and values, and redirect your energies in that direction if you find yourself off course. If you don’t even know where to begin, my best suggestion is to spend some quiet time with God, who will never lead you astray.

You can do this by attending services in whatever faith speaks to your heart, by reading whatever holy text or book on spirituality that does the same, or through simple meditation and contemplation, either in a place of worship, nature, or your own home. You can find a group or a friend to discuss it with, or do it on your own. Journaling is a wonderful way to bring things into perspective. I promise you it will be time well spent, and will bring you closer to who you want to be, versus who you may appear to be at the moment.

And that’s the first step toward leading a life of balance and authenticity, which I suspect all of us have a little trouble with this time of year, but which are the only things I’ve found that bring peace and joy into my heart. How can I not wish the same for everyone?

Peace be with you in this time of waiting, and in the blessed, blessed season of joy to follow.

Helping the Homeless, Part Two

Stewardship is often defined as everything we do
after we say, “I believe.”
stew•ard•ship
Function: noun
1: the office, duties, and obligations of a steward
2: the conducting, supervising, or managing of something; especially: the careful and responsible management of something entrusted to one's care
• We are God’s; ALL of our being belongs to God, our bodies, minds, and spirits
• All of our time, talents, and treasures are from God, for God, and the property of God
• We make a living by what we get; we make a life by what we give.
— Winston Churchill
• No person was ever honored for what he received. Honor has been the reward for what he gave. — Calvin Coolidge

We are just passing through this world and are given and entrusted with Time, Talent, and Treasure to use for God’s glory and our good.

Last week my email box was flooded with emails about blizzards and frigid temperatures and people shoveling their cars out from under mountains of snow, and I couldn’t help but wonder about the homeless who live in their cars or worse in this type of weather. What does it say about us as a society that we spend hours upon hours shopping for gifts half of us don’t need or want, just because the media tells us to, while we let people sleep in cars and cardboard boxes and on city sidewalks?

Call me a Scrooge if you want—I don’t decorate or bake or go to Christmas parties, and this year I probably won’t even send out Christmas cards--but over 90,000 people are homeless in Los Angeles alone. One friend wrote of hundreds of people living in cardboard boxes along riverbanks in Colorado because the shelters are all full, in temperatures that dipped to 26 degrees below last week. These are families with men, women and children. Another mentioned seeing people sleeping in the streets in Philadelphia, a phenomenon that is repeated nightly in cities all across the nation.

Another friend was at her local Mental Health Association one afternoon dropping off an angel tree gift for their program. As she was walking in, the Executive Secretary looked distraught and had with her a young family, including a 3 year old and an infant. They did not fit the mental illness criteria for the agency's clientele, but she couldn't leave them out in the rain, which was turning into ice and snow. They had no place to go and were drenched to the bone and hungry. They’d been walking to each of the shelters which were all full due to an apartment complex fire and the weather.

The Red Cross only pays for two nights of temporary lodging. The fire victims and this family had already exhausted those benefits. The MHA was opening up again at 11PM that night to handle the overflow of the homeless, but because they are grossly understaffed they have to close the center at the normal time of 8PM and cannot open up again until 11PM for the warming center – a place simply for people to come in out of the cold and get dry and warm.

My friend got to talk to the father - he was alone and crying at the elevator when she was ready to leave. He said he did not know why God was not hearing his prayers. They went into an empty office and had a chat. She told him two years ago she would have been homeless too if it were not for the support of her family and friends. She told him she was unable to see the Providence that God did give to her because it was not what she had expected, but it was Providence all the same. She told him he should try to focus on what he does have – a beautiful wife and two beautiful children and that at that moment his family was warm, dry, being fed, and able to get some sleep. Although he was at an agency that normally does not help people in his situation, they were doing everything they could to help them.

He hugged my friend and they talked a bit more. He’d lost his job and his unemployment benefits had run out, even with the extension. He’d sold his car to pay the rent one month and had been looking for work every day by foot or the bus, if he had the money for the bus. They got evicted a week ago because he could not handle paying the full rent when he needed to start using the heat. He said he had to feed the kids. He’d never been in this situation before.

My friend offered to go in from 8-11PM that night as a volunteer so this family did not need to take their children back out into the cold wet night. The MHA set up cots in a conference room, with a television set and children's movies. They’d eaten four meals since they arrived, they were that hungry.

When two of the staff learned my friend had volunteered to come down, they volunteered to stay, off the clock, so she would not be alone...they had to come back at 11PM for the warming center shelter anyway. Staff tried to sleep but they ended up playing with the kids, etc. They got everyone showered, all their laundry done, well fed and offered some companionship and encouragement. The father went back out to look for work all afternoon and met a good owner at a pizza parlor - this great guy went out and got them formula, diapers, and gave them all free dinners - and not pizza - he made them up a very nice meal. He also offered to give the father consideration with the first opening he has, however, he just laid off four of his staff and that was why he was working there that night.

There are good people out there, struggling just as much as those who are homeless, but struggling to do the right thing all the same. As my friend was leaving the mother said she has never been this low before but realizes that it will get better because there is no way to go but up.

Therefore my friend and I ask you to pray for the following:

That this family, and all families in this type of situation find space in a shelter.
That the Lord provides the breadwinners of such families with jobs that pay enough to feed and house their families and keep them warm.
And that the comfortable people in our society finally wake up to the crisis this nation is in and join together to do something about it.

As I said yesterday, I had my post all written, then accidentally deleted it. By then an hour and a half had passed, and I was hungry. So I went to my refrigerator and just stood there, staring at all the food in it and being grateful that I had so many choices when there are so many who have none. Being grateful that I was in a warm and dry home of my own while the wind blew and the rain poured. I can’t even begin to imagine the desolation the homeless must feel.

I then went to Mass, to give thanks for all that I’ve been given, put a check for the church’s food pantry in the collection plate, and although I was not hungry, agreed to go to lunch with a friend simply because I could.

I wanted to do so being aware of the blessing that was, to be able to walk into a restaurant and order whatever I wanted. We sat there for hours, talking and catching up on our lives. We would have closed the place down, had it been a different type of establishment. But for those few hours we were dry and warm and full, unlike so many others in our country, and for that I was grateful.

I want to ask you here to take a moment and think about the blessings you’ve been given, and find a way to share those blessings in this time of hardship for so many. Find out where your local homeless shelters are, make a pot of soup or a casserole or a few dozen extra Christmas cookies and drop them off on your way out shopping or to that Christmas party or concert. Take the money you would spend on a gift that a friend or relative doesn’t want or need, and donate it to your local food pantry. Drop a few dollars into the can outside the store and offer the Salvation Army bellringer a warm hello and a smile. Don’t avoid eye contact and pretend he or she isn’t there. Dig those old Christmas trees and ornaments you don’t use any more out of the attic or basement and donate them to someplace that could use a little Christmas cheer.

Go through your closets and collect your old coats and hats and gloves and blankets and drop them off at the nearest church or distribution center. They’re everywhere, if you just look. Take your children’s old books and toys to a community shelter for the kids there to read and play with. Take some time out of your frenzied Christmas preparations to volunteer at a community shelter and give the regular workers a break from the exhaustion that comes from serving others. Remember the reason for the season.

There are so many ways to help, just using what we already have on hand. And don’t forget to pray. Prayer costs nothing, but goes a long, long way.

Time, talent, and treasure. There is power in numbers. If everyone who can afford to did just a little, think of how much nicer a Christmas it could be for all of us.

Helping the Homeless

I just wrote a 1000-word post on helping the homeless in this time of great need, and went to find a quote to start the entry with, and managed to cut and paste the quote right over my blog entry, which wasn't saved, so now it's gone. I'll have to take a break and leave you with the just the quote. If I can recreate the post somehow, I will post it later. Until then...from Matthew 25:34-40

“Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world.
•For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat,
•I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,
•I was a stranger and you invited me in,
•I needed clothes and you clothed me,
•I was sick and you looked after me,
•I was in prison and you came to visit me.’
“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’
“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.

Fridays With Louis - Moving On

Hi, guys, I've been busy this morning and forgot to post. Plus the kids are having a snow day, which never happens around here, so my usual routine is out the window. But we've been working behind the scenes to set up the new blog site, and Marc has written a second post, an amazing one about masks and how we all wear them, and we'll be ready to launch next Friday, as planned. In the meantime, you can check out the new site for yourself, designed by the incomparable Rae Monet, who also did my website and this blog header. I think the new one is beautiful and I hope the guys like it as much as I do.

Louis is doing well, still in the hole, Day 24, healing and reading the Bible. He always gets more contemplative and introspective when he's in the hole, so that is a good thing. Miscommunications are starting to arise, due to the inability to communicate (talk) and that gets frustrating, but is also a natural and normal byproduct of him going into the hole. There is a chance he will be released before Christmas, but that may entail cell restriction, which also does not allow phone calls. Still, he'd have his television and radio and typewriter.

I have to keep reminding myself he's writing to me at the moment with the innards of a bic pen, since pen casings are not allowed in the hole. They are considered dangerous weapons, which may seem ridiculous at first glance, but my martial arts classes taught me a pen casing can be an incredible weapon, so as inconvenient as it is, the administration has a point (no pun intended).

Still, as I read his letters, I do my best to remember what he's using to write them and try to practice tolerance and understanding over words and details left out that can and do cause miscommunications. In addition to that, he's writing with a hand that was already healing on its own from a broken knuckle incurred during his last trip to the hole. When I asked him if he was going to get it looked at by the doctor, he said "I don't want to cause any problems that could delay my being released from the hole."

In other words, No. So he was letting it heal on its own, even though it was twice the size of the knuckle on his other hand and he couldn't bend his finger any more. This is the same hand he led with in the fight, and I haven't yet asked if he re-broke his knuckle. He isn't one to tell me something like that, but if I ask, he will tell me.

He still doesn't know what the fight was about. He does now know that the guy didn't expect him to fight back. Louis wrote to me about this in Letters to Laura a long time ago, how the kids today (his attacker was 24) are mostly mouth, and expect either the authorities or their friends (called old heads) to step in and stop the trash talk before it escalates into violence.

But Louis is old school. He handles his own problems. And he doesn't talk trash. Even as he was beating on the guy, he was shouting, "Is this want you wanted?" "Are you happy now?" "I told you to leave me alone!"

It's just a sad situation for everyone involved. And the saddest part is he has no idea who or what started it, or why. It's clear to him that someone else set the guy up, because he was unprepared to actually fight. He apparently thought his knife would do the talking for him. But Louis doesn't carry a weapon, so if he sees one coming at him, he's not going to wait around to see what the guy intends to do with it.

Anyway, that's the scoop. He's doing well, reading some biographies he was loaned by a long-term resident of the hole, reading the paper and doing the daily crossword puzzle. Just waiting for time to pass until he can get back out into population and find out what happened and why.

Next time you hear about him will be on the new blog, so be sure to add that one to your blog list, or you can come here any time and click on the links provided in the sidebar - Fridays With Louis or 400 Days.

Until then, stay safe and warm...

Guest Author, Mona Risk

Today's guest is friend and fellow Rose Mona Risk, who is celebrating the release of her latest novel, Prescription for Trust. I met Mona in Florida this past January, and what a delightful woman she is. I plan to go back some day and watch the sunset from her balcony. Until then, however, I'll have to settle for being whisked off to exotic places and spending time with the stubborn and strong-willed characters in her books. She also has a wonderful blog. Welcome, Mona, and here's wishing you many happy sales.

Thank you, Liana, it's a pleasure to be here. I'm Mona Risk, and I write sweet and spicy medical romances in the genre of ER and Grey’s Anatomy—stories that will make you smile, laugh, and cry.

In BABIES IN THE BARGAIN, a pediatric resident ignores her strict schedule to help a playboy doctor deal with a newborn, after a tragic accident transforms her colleague into a dedicated father to his orphaned nephew.

Rx For Trust is the story of two psychiatrists with conflicting theories on how to treat their patients and tame their own emotions. My readers often ask: Are you a doctor? Not exactly, my friends. Let’s say that I am a self-proclaimed medical student trying hard to learn the professional jargon, in order to stage-direct my protagonists as they perform their medical procedures.

Puzzled, my readers frown: So what about research? Where do you find the medical cases, diagnosis, treatment or surgeries? I rely on real doctors. My daughter is a neonatologist and my sister a psychiatrist. Unfortunately they never have enough time to answer my endless questions. But I am persistent.

My daughter explained her resuscitation procedure several times. I consider myself an intelligent person but for the life of me I could not imagine how my daughter would have the courage to introduce an endo-trach-something that looks like a wire into the throat of a two-pound infant. And I didn’t comprehend the half-a-line long words she used while talking at an eighty-mile-an-hour speed.

Running out of time and patience at my continuous questioning, my daughter gave me a CD and a booklet. “Here, Mom, watch this video. Read the booklet, and if you have more questions, let me know.”

When I watched the video, I understood how the resuscitation procedure was done, and I also realized how those delicate hands manipulating the ETT (endtrotracheal tube) were saving babies’ lives. I was in awe and had tears in my eyes. That’s what my daughter was doing for a living---saving babies’ lives. I was able to write the procedure. Later on, she read my manuscript and changed my resuscitation scene into such an unsavory dry report I almost gagged and re-edited it again to make it more palatable.

For my next book, Rx FOR TRUST, I had to transform myself into a credible psychiatrist. I begged my sister for help. She refused to talk about her cases and gave me a lecture about patient confidentiality.

Did I mention I was persistent? My sister came back to me with two big volumes of psychiatric cases. “Here, read.these, and if you have more questions, let me know.”

Yeah, I heard that before, but my jaw dropped. Was she expecting me to read two big books of psychiatry?

Apparently, she was serious. And I read the two books. Honestly, I enjoyed the reading and couldn’t believe there was so many nut cases in the world. I chose the lighter ones, those that could be funny in a romance. Later on my sister reviewed my manuscript and made the medical scenes look “more professional." I immediately changed them back into “more readable."

As you can see, it’s not easy to transform a writer into a doctor, but it’s possible with hard work and perseverance.

Rx For Trust is based on a real case. Successful physician and loving mother, Dr. Olivia Crane is used to treating victims of domestic violence and has no problem listening to the most complicated cases of abuse, but deep down, Olivia fiercely believes youthful mistakes should be kept secret and skeletons are better left in closets.

Olivia doesn’t want to remember the past, doesn’t want to talk about it and carefully hides it from her daughter and from the man she loves. She has buried her ugly past and convinced herself she’s forgotten it.

Because of her inner fears, she refuses to face her past experience and deal with her problem. In fact, she is so terrified about the past catching up to destroy her daughter’s peace of mind, that one little lie leads to another, and another,… until the past catches up with her.

Unfortunately, Dr. Luc George, the French psychiatrist who loves her, detests secrets and has a professional tendency to dig into people's minds.

Rx FOR TRUST, the first book in the Doctor’s Orders series, was released December 4 by The Wild Rose Press. The story’s theme revolves around a famous saying by Walter Scott:
“Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.”

Contest Awards: First Place in Central Ohio Ignite the Flame; Second Place in Heart of Denver, The Molly; Third Place in FTHRW Golden Gateway.

Excerpt:

“Fine.” He raised both hands in a conciliatory gesture. “But I am stunned by this situation. Help me understand you. We dated for a year. I loved you. Why did you not trust me?”

Loved. He used the past tense. Even if his love had survived for ten years, she’d killed it with her confession. The sadness underlying his question went straight to her heart. She dropped back into her chair, rubbing her forehead to lessen the tension.

Why did he have to linger over the painful past?

Luc touched her hand and enfolded it in his large one. “Olivia, you are a psychiatrist. You know you can’t bury your past forever. Not when you have a teenage daughter. At some point, you will have to deal with it. Can you please tell me why you hid your daughter from me?”

“Why can’t you understand?” She snatched her hand from his and exhaled, wishing she had a magic formula to erase her bitter past. “When I was a student, I was still hiding her from everybody at med school.” Resting her head against the back of the chair, she closed her eyes. “I told you I was terrified for her safety. Melissa is unfortunately the mirror image of her father. I was afraid that he’d find out he has a daughter and hurt us both.”

“Did he ever threaten you?”

Olivia blinked and struggled to suppress her bitterness. Threaten was putting it mildly. “He told me to ‘get rid of it’ when I said I was pregnant. And he got upset when I protested.”

“How upset?” Luc punched the palm of his left hand with his fist.

Feeling her control slipping under his scrutiny, she turned her head.

“Did he hit you?”

She didn’t answer. But he must have read the humiliating truth in her eyes.

“Mon Dieu. I wish I had known. I would have killed this monster. Is that the reason you turned away from me?”

She bit her lip, loathe to tell him how much she’d cried after he left. “Listen, we dated on and off during that year, but you were going back to France, and I wanted to concentrate on my career. Why would we start a long-distance relationship? Besides, I couldn’t trust anyone. Any man after...” Shaking her head, she averted her gaze. Luc was far too perceptive. “I was too frightened.”

“And you still are. You sacrificed a lot because of your inner fear. Don’t you think you need help, Dr. Crane? You need to learn to trust people again.”

“I’m fine now. When Melissa started high school, I introduced her to my boss and colleagues. I’m very proud of her.” She stood to signify the end of this conversation that had drained her.

Damn it. She didn’t need a shrink. After sampling his kisses last night, she roused to a surprising reality. She wanted him again. She wanted her French lover who lavished her with pleasure and tenderness during steamy nights.

His eyes narrowed, Luc crossed his arms over his chest. “But you still have not told your daughter the truth.” The archetypal psychiatrist, he followed the same line of questions.

Irritation flickered through her, and she struggled not to shout at him. “That’s not your problem.” The minute she’d confided in him, he tried to impose his views. “You see why I couldn’t tell you my secret? I didn’t want anyone interfering and destroying my daughter’s peace of mind.”

Mona Risk writes romantic suspense for Cerridwen Press: TO LOVE A HERO and FRENCH PERIL And medical romance in the genre of ER and Grey's Anatomy for The Wild Rose Press: BABIES IN THE BARGAIN and Rx FOR TRUST. All books are available at Amazon.com.

The Colors of Thanksgiving

We praise you, O Lord, for all your works are wonderful.
We praise you, O Lord, forever is your love.

The colors of Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving I went to church, to give thanks for the many blessings in my life, and was treated to a wonderful program that tied in the colors of our life to the liturgy. Afterward, I asked Sister Mary Rose if she'd written it, and I could have a copy to share here.

To explain, she had someone process down the aisle with an object representing each of the following colors, colors that matched the programs we were handed as we entered the worship space. Those objects were:

A Green Plant
A Yellow Basket
An Orange Pumpkin
Red Apples
A Brown Floral Arrangement
A Blue Votive Candle
White Mums
Purple Grapes

What follows are the words that accompanied these symbolic objects. I hope you'll take the time to reflect on them, and will get as much out of them as I did.

Today’s Liturgy is both a HOLIDAY and a HOLY DAY. For people throughout our land,
today traditionally marks the day on which we, as a nation, pause to give thanks for the bounty of the earth.

Those of us who have gathered in THIS sacred place...at this moment in time...are also gathered to give thanks for the gifts that come to us from the goodness of God.

In the spring, GREEN symbolizes breaking from the shackles of winter. At this time of year, it represents bounty...and hope...and the promise of victory of life over death.

YELLOW conveys energy and warmth...and is the symbol of light and purity. It speaks of youth...and happiness...and harvest...and hospitality.

Symbolic of endurance and strength, ORANGE is the color of fire and flame...and represents the red of passion, tempered by the yellow of wisdom.

Signifying action...charity...and spiritual awakening, RED testifies to the joy of life and love.

BROWN represents the earth and the humility of those who work the land. It reminds us that God is connected to the common things in life...and so are we.

Inspiring us with insight and freedom, BLUE symbolizes honesty and integrity and reliability. We have also come to associate this color with loyalty and enduring commitment.

WHITE calls to mind all that is pure, and innocent...and for this reason, it is often associated with the newness of life.

PURPLE brings to mind valor and bravery. Used by royalty, nobility and the church, PURPLE enhances many celebrations of rich ceremony and deep penitence.

And then, after Mass, these blessings were bestowed.

Upon you, whose program covers are YELLOW and ORANGE: I ask God to bless you with the grace you need to bring light to a darkened part of God’s world, filling it with understanding, and renewing it with an energy that will bring others to Jesus, the true Light.

Upon you, whose program covers are GREEN and BROWN: I ask God to give you the gifts that will nurture life and hope in others. May you stay rooted in the values of the Gospel and be always grateful for the common and the ordinary things of life.

Upon you, whose program covers are RED and BLUE: I ask God to make you strong in your commitment to live in imitation of Christ. May your love extend to those most in need of your compassion and care.

Upon you, whose program covers are WHITE and PURPLE: I ask God to bless you with new life as you face today...and every day...as God’s chosen people. May you rejoice in the blessings God has shown you, and become instruments of goodness and peace.

My cover was blue, and I extend my love and blessings to you, as we progress through Advent and into the busiest and one of the most holiest times of the year, Christmas.

Fridays With Louis - Three's A Crowd

As of December 18, Fridays with Louis will be moving to another blog. I’m starting to feel like I have multiple personalities. My Sunday posts are intended to be positive and inspirational, my Wednesday posts entertaining and informational, and my Friday posts are getting darker and darker. I’ve been talking with my friend Marc (29) about writing some blog posts, and his are even darker than mine, so I’m going to have to branch those two out and let them tell their stories elsewhere.

I would also like to post about Louis more than once a week—Letters to Laura seems to have gotten lost in the wake of current events--but there’s not enough room on this blog for that. I’ve also got ideas and articles about prison life in general that I’ve written and never posted because I don’t have enough slots open. Plus there’s Nora’s Book Club for Parolees entries that she updates regularly.

Marc is approaching his minimum date in just over a year. When you’re sentenced, you get a minimum and a maximum date. You can be released any time after you’ve served your minimum. He wants to blog about what he’s doing to prepare himself to return to society. I sent him my blog post about On Choosing to Be Who You Are…and it got him to thinking about who he is and who he wants to be.

He hadn’t really thought about that before…because he hasn’t had that choice. He’s had to be who he’s had to be to survive. And who he’s had to be is a dark character indeed.

So, after I read his first post, I knew the idea I’d been toying with about breaking Louis off onto his own blog had to happen. So…the guys will move out and it will be just us girls here on the beach :).

But I’ll be sure to link to the other blog and let people know when I’ve posted something over there.

As for Louis, the mail, sporadic at best on a normal week, was completely thrown off schedule due to the Thanksgiving holiday. I don’t see that situation improving until after New Year’s. He remains in the hole, and will most likely spend his holidays there, unless something big jumps off at the prison and they need to bring a lot of new people to the hole.

Hole space is apparently at a premium there, especially with all those long-term hole-dwellers in residence. Louis says there are around 70 of them who have sentences of 6 months to many years. The longer hole sentences are for those who are exceptionally violent, in many cases mentally ill, have tried to escape, or killed a guard.

After Louis’s escape attempt, he did six years in the hole. Compared to that, 90 days to him seems like nothing.

It’s not nothing to me. I miss him. I was missing him this time last year, and now I am missing him again. I’m getting tired of missing him. He’s 53 years old, for Pete’s sake. Leave the man in peace. The man who came to his cell with a knife was 24 years old. He was not there for a cup of tea. The last one who came at him with a knife was 28. The first fellow who jumped in to help Louis’s attacker was 22. I don’t know about the other one, but chances are he was around the same age.

Louis’s reputation, the reputation he no longer wants, but which follows him everywhere he goes, is suddenly being challenged by these young wolves regularly. The sooner I can see him again, the sooner I can hope to find out why. There’s a chance he might not know what’s going on, himself. But something is definitely going on. As Marc will explain in a future blog post, you just don’t go to another man’s cell. It’s simply not done.

Louis lives in an extremely violent world. He tends to minimize the danger in his circumstances because one, that’s the way he is, (pretty much everything is ‘no big deal’) and two, he probably doesn’t want to worry me. But Marc has no such compunctions. He will tell you how it is with no holds barred. Since Louis is there for life, he focuses more on the positive side of things. So many things happen that I ask him, “Aren’t you upset about that? Doesn’t that make you angry?” And he will say, “What good would getting upset about it do? It won’t change anything.”

Like this hole sentence. 90 days for defending himself. I’d get angry. He pled guilty. He’s already let it go and moved on. I’ve never met a more serene, sane, or spiritual man. Louis will spit out his coffee at me calling him spiritual, but actions speak louder than words, and I’ve never known him to desire anything other than peace. Even with me.

Marc, on the other hand, is still dealing with his bitterness, frustration, anger, and rage. He feels the blog will be a good place for him to sort himself out. He knows he needs to find that state of peace that Louis ascribes to, peace with both himself and his surroundings, in order to succeed at living in society.

The new blog will be a journal of his journey to find that peace. But it will start with where he is now, and where he has been.

I hope you’ll join us there, and will pray for both of them.

Crimson Rose Call for Submissions!

Still pulling together my Wednesday Wellness blogs, so today I'll put in a plug for my publisher and post a call for submissions they have put out for the Crimson Rose line, the line that published Ashton's Secret.

Here goes, and good luck to you!

The Wild Rose Press
Introduces a Special Submission Call from Crimson Rose
Jewels of the Night…

WHAT MAKES THIS SUBMISSION CALL SPECIAL?
One submission will be selected to launch the series. The chosen contract will be given a premium publishing slot during Crimson month (November, 2010) as well as a featured review and interview with the review site Once Upon a Romance. The selected story will be showcased on the Crimson Rose Page of The Wild Rose Press website and the Behind the Garden Gate blog. The Wild Rose Press will provide an advertising book banner to the author. Once Upon a Romance will also display this book banner without charge for a thirty day period beginning with the day of book release.

THE STORY:
• Must involve a blue diamond. It could be a treasure hunt or a midnight thief or… Let your imagination take flight! :)
• Must involve a high level of danger
• Can be in any region of the world
• Can be any timeframe as long as the most prevalent elements are romance and intrigue

Guidelines:
• Stories must be complete. With a word-length between 20,000 and 60,000 words
(miniature rose or rosebud length)
• Must be an original, never-before published work and you must own the rights to it.
• To qualify for the launch, submission must arrive on or before March 31, 2010
• Manuscripts must be formatted per standard formatting rules
(Times New Roman, 12 pt, double-spaced, 1 in. margins, numbered pages)
• Submission call is open to both published and unpublished writers
• Story content must adhere to posted Crimson Rose guidelines as posted on the submissions page of thewildrosepress.com

HOW TO SUBMIT:
Email your manuscript as a single Word .rtf attachment to Lori (at) thewildrosepress.com
Put: “Jewel of the Night Series: Manuscript Title: YOUR NAME” in the subject line
In the body of the email, include
• The synopsis
• Your Real name
• Pseudonym, if applicable
• Your contact email
• Word-count

Submissions received that do not follow these guidelines will be discarded without notice. The Wild Rose Press is not responsible for submissions lost in cyberspace and not received.
Upon receipt, you will receive a confirmation email. If you have not received a confirmation email within five working days of emailing your submission, please send us an email.

Direct questions regarding this submission call to: Lori (at) thewildrosepress.com.

If you have received receipt of your submission, please do not inquire about status until after standard response wait time. All entrants will be reviewed per our normal submission guidelines which are available at http://www.thewildrosepress.com/.

Thanks for submitting and good luck!