Welcome Laura Hilton

Author of Promised to Another Book 3

Laura Hilton, her husband, Steve, and their five children make their home in Horseshoe Bend, Arkansas. She is a pastor’s wife, a stay-at-home mom and home-schools three of her children. Her two oldest children are homeschool graduates and are in college. Laura is also a breast cancer survivor.

Her publishing credits include Hot Chocolate and Shadows of the Past from Treble Heart Books; a devotional in a compilation from Zondervan; and three books in the Amish of Seymour series from Whitaker House: Patchwork Dreams, A Harvest of Hearts, and Promised to Another. Healing Love will begin the Amish of Webster County series in September 2012. Laura has a business degree from Ozarka and is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers. Laura is a professional book reviewer for the Christian market, with over a thousand book reviews published at various online review sites.

Blurb    

Promised to Another Book 3

 Annie Beiler is an Amish school teacher. She was in love with an Amish man, Luke Stultz, but Luke left the Amish community during his rumspringa, but not without begging Annie to go with him. Now Luke is back, trying to win back Annie’s love. Joshua Esh may be Amish, but he has been bitten by the travel bug. He sees the opportunity to relocate from Pennsylvania to Missouri as a way to satisfy his longing to see another place yet remain with people of his faith. Josh quickly notices the beautiful Annie, but Annie is slow to respond. With Luke in the picture, and Josh’s admission that he willingly left his district, will either man be steady and dependable enough to win the gift of Annie’s heart?

Enjoy an Excerpt

“May I take you home from Singing?”

Annie Beiler’s breath hitched and her gaze shot from the dusty tips of her powder blue tennis shoes to the drop-dead gorgeous man standing not three feet in front of her. Unfortunately, his tentative smile wasn’t aimed in her direction.

Nein, Joshua Esh’s hazel eyes were locked on Rachel Lapp. Though Annie had to admit Rachel was cute with her strawberry blond hair and the green dress that perfectly matched her green eyes.                                                

He was what her Englisch friends called a player, for sure. Everyone talked about how he never took the same girl home from Singing twice. But maybe that meant he would eventually make his way to Annie.

Rachel’s face lit up. “Danki, Joshua. I’d love a ride.”

Annie scowled. And when he did get around to asking her, she’d reject him. Seems someone should have the willpower to. Even though Rachel had talked about him and his ways earlier that evening, it appeared that she had only been suffering from jealousy since Joshua hadn’t asked her first.

Okay, to be honest, Annie did feel a bit envious too. Make that more than a bit. Not mainly because of Joshua, although he played a huge part of it. But partially because none of the men swapped from Pennsylvania had ever offered to give her a ride. Not a single one.

She didn’t think she was that unfortunate looking.

Annie brushed past Joshua and Rachel and left the barn. Maybe she shouldn’t have gone outside, because she did need a way home unless she planned to ride with another couple. But she didn’t think she could stand there alone by the barn doors, hopeful, when all the buwe she noticed didn’t seem to know she was alive.

Like Joshua Esh.

Especially Joshua Esh.

Annie kicked at a rock and winced when it didn’t budge.

“Annie? Is that you?” A male voice came from the darkness in front of her.

She jumped. She recognized that voice. Just hadn’t expected to hear it. Not in a month of Singings. She frowned. “Luke?”

“Jah.” He moved enough to come into the circle of light from the lanterns hanging around the barn.

Annie planted her fists on her hips. She wouldn’t make the mistake of falling for Luke Schwartz twice. Not that she’d fallen for him the first time. It was just—he’d asked. And a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. Right? Okay, he wasn’t what she wanted, wouldn’t make her top ten list of dreamy Amish men, but he was better than nothing. She pulled in a deep breath, steeling herself. “What are you doing here?”

“Ach, that’s a wonderful way to welcome me. I’m home.”

She stilled, hope building, despite her internal warnings. “For how long?” She didn’t want to spend her life alone. Didn’t want to rely on the kindness of other couples for rides. Didn’t want to be the only girl left unattached, unaccepted, unwanted.

Unloved.

But then again, she didn’t want to settle for just anyone either.

Luke didn’t quite meet her eyes. “You wound me.”

Ach. Not for gut, then. The pencil fell from behind her ear and she stooped to pick it up, careful not to glance at him as she rose.

“Never without that ever present pencil, I see.”

She winced, hating that he mocked her. Okay, she probably shouldn’t take a pencil to Singing, but what if she wanted to write something down? The name of a book she’d like to read, or something she wanted to mention to the scholars. Maybe even the initials of her number one dream guy. One who stood somewhere nearby, but didn’t pay any attention to her. One who didn’t know she was alive. She didn’t dare glance away from Luke. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

He sighed. “May I give you a ride home? Looks like things are breaking up.”

“I’m sorry, but I already have a ride. Maybe another time?”

Luke laughed. “Right. I heard how popular you are. Having to beat the buwe off with a stick, ain’t so?”

Annie stiffened. “So, you couldn’t pay rent on that run down trailer and ran home to your parents, jah?”

Someone moved up beside her, and she glanced that way. Whoever it was didn’t register. What she did notice was that everyone had gathered around her and Luke, watching their exchange.

She was in enough trouble, only allowed to continue teaching on probation. All she needed was for one of these eavesdroppers to go home and tell their folks. She’d be out of a job so fast a racing horse and buggy wouldn’t be able to keep pace. She searched for something to say, something to diffuse the situation.

Luke’s glance slid from her to whoever offered wordless support. He sneered, then backed up a space. “Well, since you have a ride, I’ll just see you later then. Good to see ya, Annie.”

She forced a smile. “Glad you’re back, Luke.”

He turned and disappeared into the darkness.

***

 Joshua stood beside Annie for a moment. Silent. Wishing he could say something that would be a salve to her hurt. He felt the pain radiating from her as she watched the red-headed man walk away.

That whole situation confused him. He’d been attracted to Annie since the moment he met her, but when he fished for more information about her, he’d been told she was taken. Off limits. All but engaged to Luke Schwartz. And that Luke had vowed to return for her again someday. Apparently that day was now.

Annie hadn’t been waiting with baited breath.

 Joshua didn’t know exactly what that meant.

He only knew what he wanted it to mean.


Buy this Book

Visiting with Gail Delaney

I'm pleased to introduce Gail Delaney. And am glad she could stop in and share about her newest release: 

Janus -- Book One in her Phoenix Rising Series. This line on the cover of her book defines it well: Out Of The Ashes Humanity Will Arise.

Gail R. Delaney has been actively writing 'for publication' since 1996. The first novel she ever wrote is still sitting on her computer, waiting for the major rewrite that will make it acceptable. She says she has learned a great deal since writing that book, and it shows when she looks back at that rough draft.

Gail has had several novels published in the genres of contemporary romance, romantic suspense and futuristic romance. Her novels have received several nominations and awards since she was first published in 2005. By far, writing futuristic sci fi is her favorite genre.

Gail and her family recently moved from the cold and blustry east coast to Southern California, and is loving every moment of sunshine she can soak in -- without risking a sun burn.

Gail, what do you love about your latest book?


I love that I can return to the future world I created in The Phoenix Rebellion series. I loved the characters, the stories, the possibilities of those four books, and now I can live the adventure right along with the reader as I learn what happens next!

Does your book have a special theme? Can you share what inspired you to write this story and theme?

The title of the book -- Janus -- comes from the name of a Roman God who was represented as having two faces. Two sides to a coin. Beginnings and Endings. The one thread running through this book is the duplicity of people, but not always in a deceptive or negative way. Everyone has two faces, your true face and the face you show the world. It's when those two faces become almost one that you are being most truthful. And some people do hide behind the mask of deceit.

Janus is book #1 in the 'Phoenix Rising' Series.  Do your upcoming books continue the saga of the main characters in The Phoenix Rebellion?


Yes... and no. The thing I love about the Phoenix books is that they are written with a cast of characters, rather than each book focusing solely on two people with everyone being secondary. While each book does have a focus couple, everyone else is part of their lives and have their own ongoing stories.
The main characters from The Phoenix Rebellion books are all here in this series: Nick Tanner, Caitlin Montgomery Tanner, Michael Tanner, Jace and Lilly Quinn... etc... are all here, but their stories aren't the main focus anymore. They are in the lives of the people taking the foreground. John Smith, the main man in Janus, was a non-main but far from secondary character in 2 of the 4 Phoenix Rebellion books. And Jenifer had two scenes in the whole series. Now, their story will be told.


Do you get ideas for your stories from places you visit, or do you visit places to flesh out your stories?


Oh, wouldn't that be fun since this is sci fi? I'd love to visit Aretu on the other side of the galaxy! Sadly... that's not going to happen. But, the world is shrinking so things happen all over the planet. I wish I could visit them all, but I've visited a few.


What’s the biggest challenge you’ve faced in writing?


Time! I work a full time day job, I run a company, I have a husband, a college student, a middle schooler, my in laws and three dogs all wanting time. J Oh, and a business partner/bff, too. J

Tell us what you love to do in your spare time?

* blink blink * What is this "spare time" you speak of?

J I don't really have spare time, but when I make time, I love going to Disneyland with the family. It's only about an hour away, and makes for a nice Saturday trip. We go so often we can just take our time and do what we want without feeling like we have to fit it all in. My husband grew up going to Disneyworld a lot, and after we married and when we lived on the East Coast, we went just about every year. Now, in Cali, it's our 'thing' still.

Which character in your new release most interested you while you wrote? Why?

I would have to say both John Smith and Jenifer equally, because they are both so different and yet so the same. In ways neither have come to realize yet. That's why I love writing series -- I don't have to wrap up the stories with a pretty bow at the end of the book.

If you were a style of music, what style would you be?

Probably a mix of rockabilly and swing. J I'm a little funky, a little off center, and I can't sit still when I hear it. I can't dance worth beans, but that doesn’t mean I'm not dancing in my head.

Do you put yourself into your books/characters?

Generally speaking, I would say no. I see my characters as very independent, individual people so to infuse myself into them would be to take away from who they are supposed to be. But, I can't say I "never" have. One book in particular -- not this new release, but a contemporary I released about a year and a half ago -- I would say I enjoyed imagining myself in the heroine's place. The book was Something Better, and perhaps it was because the heroine was a sci fi romance novelist (I always swore I'd never write a book with a novelist as a heroine, and yet... I did) that I allowed myself to step more into her shoes.

 Maybe because the hero of this particular book was 'modeled' after a man I consider to be one of the most attractive, appealing men in television right now -- Joshua Jackson. So, it wasn't a hardship by any means to let myself imagine myself in Andi Parker's shoes for a bit and maybe let her say or do things I could imagine doing in the same situation. 

Do you have any advice for other writers?

Don't ever be so conceited or sure of yourself you believe yourself to be above advice and guidance.

That is good advice. We all want to learn more about the craft of writing, but it is important to keep a healthy character as well. Who wants to work with an arrogant know it all? And yet, Gail has been very kind to me... LOL

Gail, thanks so much for coming to visit. Janus sounds like an interesting book.

Blurb:

 It's been a year since Humanity rose up against their alien oppressors and took back Earth from the Sorracchi. The war left Earth devastated, crippled, but not beaten. Under the leadership of President Nick Tanner and in collaboration with their new Areth and Umani allies, the Earth seeks stable ground again.

John Smith of the Areth was a soldier before his queen asked him to serve as ambassador to Earth, and he is out of his element. Restricted in his position from carrying a weapon, he has no way of defensing himself or his adopted son when the Xenos -- a group of Humans wishing to purge the Earth of all alien influence -- decide they want him dead.

Jenifer is a soldier for hire, and answers to no one but her own common sense. She first refused the "job" of serving as John's bodyguard, but a glimpse at the heart of the man convinces her to accept the responsibility.

John has two faces: a soldier and an ambassador of peace. Jenifer has two faces: the steel-skinned warrior and the forgotten person she once was. Too many people hide behind masks, and it's those hiding who want John dead.

Enjoy this Excerpt

"Jenifer--" John began behind her.

She shot up a hand for silence, pointed at Sergeant Manning and ordered him into the room with a jerk of her hand. The soldiers passed, single file, as Manning stepped through the door. With a final glare at the crowded hallway, Jenifer kicked closed the door, gripped Manning's wrist and flipped him around to slam his chest into the wall with his arm up his back, and yanked his pulse weapon from his hip holster -- all before Manning could protest.

"Do you have any other weapons on you?" she demanded.

"Wha--"

She shoved his arm up his back. "It's an easy question, Sergeant."

He came just shy of squealing like a girl. "No!"

Panic rolled off him, maybe even downright fear, and for just a moment Jenifer felt a fraction of compassion for the poor kid. What the hell would he do if he ever had to face a real danger? What would he do facing down a mob of Xenos? Or Sorracchi? Geez, he had probably been a pimple-faced pubescent kid when the Sorracchi first attacked. Then again, maybe some good, old-fashioned jolt of fear might do the kid some good.

She took a step back and held the procured pulse weapon out toward John. He took it, giving her a curious look, his brow arched.

She stared back. "What?"

He smirked and chuckled, checking the weapon. "Nothin'."

Jenifer arched an eyebrow.

John laughed outright and held up his hands in a sign of surrender, still holding the weapon. "Nothin', I swear." He glanced toward Manning. "You've frightened the boy, Jenifer."

"May I turn around, ma'am?" Manning mumbled, his cheek against the wall.

Jenifer slammed her body against his back, making him grunt. In barely a whisper, she spoke against his bright red ear. "Tell Montgomery sixteen-thirty in the hanger. Got it?"

"Yes, ma'am," he choked.

The kid scurried out of the room like the devil was on his heels, the door rattling in its frame in his departure. Jenifer groaned and snatched the pulse weapon from John's hand and opened the door.

"Hey! Forget something?"

She gave the kid credit. He managed to turn and catch the weapon. Then he was gone.

"Damn kid," she mumbled, shutting the door again. "He'd be dead in a real fight."

John walked to the old plaster hearth built into the wall perpendicular to the windows facing the street and turned to lean his hips against the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets, his feet out in front of him set apart. The way his shoulders slumped and he hung his head made Jenifer pause before crossing the room to him. After a few quiet moments, he drew in a long breath through his nose and raised his head as he released it.

"So, what happened?" he asked not much louder than a whisper.

Watch the trailer for Janus

http://youtu.be/CybGNoUuhdI

Find Gail online

http://www.GailDelaney.com for general writing information

http://www.facebook.com/AuthorGailRDelaney for my facebook page about my writing in general

http://www.facebook.com/PhoenixGailRDelaney is dedicated to my Phoenix Universe and all the series involved.

Faith in Fiction

As a Christian author, my faith play a big part in how I write. Some might ask why faith would matter in writing and especially writing fiction. Isn't that somewhat ironic? First let me remind you that Christ told parables so that people would understand better. Following in the footsteps of Christ the storyteller, I believe that God gave me my imagination and desire to write as a gift that he means for me to use for him.

So I write stories of faith and overcoming through and with God. I want my readers to come away with the truth of God's love and mercy for their own lives.

My faith also plays a part in where I might promote my books and how. It should be a big part of my attitude. But what happens when the Christian writer's faith is shaken? Or does a writer's faith ever take a hit? How does a writer write stories to touch other's lives when they are discouraged in themselves?

I asked the following questions. I wasn't concerned about what they wrote in their stories as much as how faith applied to them as writers.

Is having faith as a writer important to you? 

Many answered Yes. 

Why this was important? 

Most said they would never tackle a book without it. If God wanted them to write they needed to be in tuned to the One who wanted them to write and gave them the story. Because their faith made them who they are.

Does that faith help you when you're discouraged in your writing? 

Most answered yes, some spoke of times when they were down and it took some time and prayer to break out of the discouragement, but God was there. They never lost their faith in him.

Do you pray for God to help you with your stories and promotion? 

Many said yes especially in their stories and many in their promotion.

Has there ever been a time that you wondered if God heard your prayers? 

Most said that they question that from time to time, but as they grow in faith and spend time with the Lord, they don't question as often. Some did say that they didn't really question whether he heard their prayers, but wondered when he'd answer.

Has there ever been a time that your faith in God or your writing wavered? 

Many said yes.  And those feelings can come and go whether they had a lot of books published or none. Writers and perhaps people in general question whether they are ever good enough. As a Christian writer we have the knowledge of a Christ who loves us so much he died for us. And he gives us strength and walks through the valleys of discouragement with us, but that doesn't keep us from wondering.

Do you ever blame God that you're not doing better as a writer?

Most said no, that was their fault. Some said to be honest they did wonder why God didn't help a bit more.

Has God ever told you not to promote in a certain way or place, or write something specific? 

Several said yes. For some he'd even told them to stop writing for a time and spend some time with him. Some were told not to do a certain type of promotion. 

Yes, as Christians we have faith, or should have. That faith does not mean we will be the next best seller. Nor does it mean one writer had more faith or prayed more because they did. Faith does not mean we never know discouragement. Or never have to work at promotion because God will snap his finger and get our books out there.

No, He isn't a genie in a bottle. but he does promise to be with us and carry us through times of shallow faith. Faith gives us something to hold onto and hope in when it doesn't seem like we're getting any where. That is what I want to share in life and in fiction. 

What do you think?  

Tina E. Pinson--

When Shadows Fall http://tinyurl.com/d93p77a  In the Manor of the Ghost http://ning.it/dB0zAj , Touched By Mercy http://ning.it/9OJZ5r BLOG http://tinapinson.blogspot.com/ Website http://www.tinapinson.com 

Twitter @Tina_Pinson "For I know the plans I have for you," says the LORD... " Jer. 29:11 

Graduation Prayer

It's that time of the year again, when seniors from High Schools and other levels of academia graduate.
It is a lifetime achievement and a new step into the unknown.

Since my children are all grown, I have lived through THE Graduation Angst of watching my children walk through the procession, receive their diploma and know that something had radically changed in my world, just as something would radically change in theirs.

I remember the day vividly. I sat there in the stands watching my eldest in his red robe, fall in line with the others in their matching attire and saw my little boy. Saw the day I took him to kindergarten. I saw days of his life float through my memory. A part of me wanted those days back, but knew that this was his moment to shine. This was his moment to reach for the life I'd, hopefully, prepared him for.

A Parent's Graduation Prayer

by Tina Pinson

Precious Son… Beloved to me.

I watch you walk away and I am filled with a sense of pride.

For the man you’ve become, the man you will be.

You’ve grown now, and you’re heading off into a world

to blaze that trail. To live your life.

Much has been accomplished in what seems like too short of time.

I’m prouder than any parent could be.

But deep in my heart, in that sheltered place,

I feel as though someone has taken a knife and hollowed my soul.

I long to run after you. To continue this walk together.

Continue along with you in this journey that we started so long ago.

But the path is only wide enough for you and one other.

And I know I am not the one who can walk it with you.

Nor the one who should.

Oh, but all of my senses cry out, begging me to run to your side,

take your hand in mine, and never relinquish that hold.

But my feet are planted here, and I stand silently in the shadows,

weeping, watching as you walk away.

My hands are limp and empty by my side.

Then in moments of sorrow, I look up and see who walks with you. 

I look up and see, like me, you are sheltered under His arm.

Close to His heart. And He’ll never let you walk alone.

And my hand, finding the strength to let you go,

lifts with prayer for your tomorrow’s.

Lifts with praise as I lay you in the hands of

The only one who can carry you.

The one who always has.

Mother's Day & Memories

Ah… Mother's Day. It reminds me of all the years I said I would never be like my mother. Fact is I can still maintain that stance, and I've paid everyone off who might say otherwise.

It's that day I remind my children how much I had to sacrifice for them and how they wouldn't be here if I hadn't carried them for two years, trudging on stairs upwards both ways, going through long bouts of morning sickness, caring for them in my womb and giving them life because I love them.

It reminds me of all my mother went through at home. Because my sisters were sooo bratty... :-) 

Mom was married at fifteen. By the age of 23 (I believe) she had five daughters to raise. She went at it with gusto, turning us into proper ladies, well she tried. She used to make our clothes so we could all look alike right down to our bouffant hairdos. 

She wanted us to dress like young ladies, so most times made sure we wore dresses. 

Which was bane to my existence. How was a proper lady supposed to climb trees or hang up side down on the monkey bars without showing off their underwear?

 Heavens. 

I found a pair of shorts under your dress solved many a problems and you could hang upside down as much as you wanted. Well... until your chest hung out.  

       Mom, taught us how to cook, and sew and clean. Boy did we clean...  

       She thought we should sing together as a family so we started Seven for Heaven, (I believe was the name...) We'd get gussied up in yet another outfit that made us look like dolls in a row. (All except dad of course) And we'd stand in our line from tallest to shortest and sing. We actually had a song that had seven verses. One for each of to Sing. Sing. Sing.

       I have a lot of memories of my mother and family. Like any family, not all of them are good. but most.  Memories like that don't just happen everyday.

Mothers make sure a lot of them are made.

Mother's Day reminds me of all the stretch marks I have from carrying my children. Some of them are recent and my children are grown men.

Mother's Day is also a day of reflection as I stop and wonder if should have stopped at one child or perhaps used better birth control.

NO... it makes me wonder if I could have been a better mother. I realize I can't go back and change time. Don't know that I'd want to, but I can take a look at myself now and see how I can be a better mom, better woman today. How can I be a better daughter, so my mother knows she means the world to me?

Some History about Mother's Day.

Anna Jarvis started pushing for Mother's Day in 1899. It was important to her that it be called Mother's Day, even down to the placement of the apostrophe. That was to signify that it was a celebration in the family and the nation. Mother's Day was finally adopted and signed into law by US President Woodrow Wilson in 1914. Several countries around the world celebrate Mother's Day, but not always on the same day.

By 1920 Anna Jarvis wasn't too happy about the commercialization of the day.

Who Knew? Mother's Day is big business. Every one who is anyone, has a mother. And if only 1/3 of those buys something for their mother's someone can get rich.

Card, candy and flower companies bring in hefty revenue. Restaurants will bring in some tidy sums too.

But Mother's Day should be more than a slick commercial. gimmick More than child's sales pitch of love to their mom.

So what is mother's day? The one day a year mothers get to rest from work and worry? Yeah right. Maybe from work, (for a few) but rarely from worry.

For some Mother's Day this whole special day has been set aside to honor them by their family, just a extra perk for the year through which they were cherished and loved daily.

They will be whisked away to breakfast, dinners, movies, picnics. Their house will be cleaned. Their chores will be done. The family will gather just to say I love you.

Sadly Mother's Day is, for some women, a farce. A lie. One in which they tell themselves they are loved and remembered and their children are coming to visit because they hold her in high esteem. Unfortunately, it the only time of the year (and maybe Christmas) she'll hear from her children. 

A lot of children try to make up for a year in a day. And once they've appeased the savage beast of guilt within them with cards or presents and some time sacrifice, they go on their merry way, forgetting her until some holiday rolls around. Until another year passes and everyone remembers mom.

Some women don't hear anything at all.

For some it's a day of sorrow because this day reminds them of the mother who passed away, who they miss. But because of their love for her, they will honor that day by doing something special in her. Telling others about the woman who gave them life and raised them.

So what is the best gift to give a mother? Okay, I like the clean house, the cards and presents and the diamonds and rubies and cars and mansions and…

I love the time with the children. The laughter. The love. The memories we make together.

I love being around my children and am honored they bring their children around me. I am honored when they seek my advice and hope they realize I pray for them. I love watching my children grow and move on in life. They may think it's silly, because they are grown men, but I love sometimes just to hear their voice, to stop and watch and revel in the fact that those beautiful men were given to me by God to raise. I love to be crushed in their arms for a hug and hear them say I love you, Mom and know that the words spoken are true, and not just offered because it's Mother's Day.

My mother is still alive, and this is the first year in many that I will be away from her because we moved a few states away. I call her often to let her know I love her. Call her to let her know she's been on my mind.

And I'll call her for Mother's Day. What will we talk about? I don't know. Our week. Our life. Maybe some of our hurts. But I will most certainly say I love you. And hope she knows I mean it from the bottom of my heart.

Happy Mother's Day to you mothers out there.

Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you.



For some other mother's day memories... http://pattyfroese.com/?p=2146 

Lessons from a Beetle...

Stopped and watched a beetle on the frosted glass covering of a light. The glass was nothing fancy, just a long rectangular vanity fixture that curved around the bulbs and is open on three sides.

The beetle scurried from side to side, criss-crossing back and forth, crawling up the sides of the glass, stopping by the bolts. As if it was frantic to escape the light. To run from the heat. Maybe he saw the remnants of other bugs who had stopped there to long and fried and that made him move faster, try harder.

Unfortunately, he kept going over the same ground. Like he moved in a big circle, always trying to find that safe passage, and returning to the same end.

He'd crawl to upper edges of the glass, reach the edge and stop, crawl to the bottom again, reach the edge and stop. Almost as if he'd was afraid to go beyond the glass road he was on for fear he'd fall into oblivion or death. So much so, he wouldn't crawl around the glass to the cooler side. 

Who knows?

So I waited and watched as he skittered back and forth, then I held up a stick, hoping he'd crawl on and I could carry him outside to freedom. The beetle ran away, frightened perhaps by the great unknown. And each time I tried he did the same.

Strangely, he kept running, kept trying dodge the light. The heat. Settling only when I turned off the light.

It made me think …

Because God loved the world and mankind so much, He sent a gift of life and truth to us in the form of Christ Jesus. His son. He freely waits at the end of that glass with open arms of love.

But so many run from him, from the light, afraid it will burn them. Afraid to come out of the darkness, step to the edge, step off and trust. This, even though they can't stand their lives in the darkness. This, though they keep praying for someone to help them.

How many run from the hand that truly wants to help? Finding it so foreign, it sends them scurrying away from the light, searching for the darkness. For the place where they can hide? For the place they don't have to deal with the truth?

Sadly they don't understand… that falling into that light can bring life.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2. The same was in the beginning with God. 3. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. 4. In him was life; and the life was the light of men.  5. And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.

John 1:1-5