Goodreads Giveaway

Goodreads Book Giveaway

The Deliverer

by Sharon Hinck

Giveaway ends September 29, 2015.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

Wings of the Dawn

"If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast." Psalm 139:9-10 (NIV)

Lord, when I feel lost, forgotten, or invisible, remind me that You know where I am, that you remember me in your love, and that You see every struggle in my heart. Thank You for holding me today. Amen.

To Utter the Unutterable

On days when I ask myself (again) why I write novels, I try to remember this:

"As Christians, we constantly struggle to utter the unutterable. We long to share concepts beyond our human ability to understand--the transcendence of God's holiness, the potency of forgiveness, the depth of God's love for us. Fiction helps us find ways to express those truths of magnitude because it is relatable, symbolic, and engages the emotion--unique qualities that make it a vital art form."

    ---Sharon Hinck in A Novel Idea: Best Advice on Writing Inspirational Fiction

Ode to my Laptop

My laptop is in the shop, and I miss it. So I wrote a little free verse about it.
(With apologies to William Carols William's "Red Wheelbarrow" )

so much depends
upon

a silver
laptop

sticky with
fingerprints

beside a blank
page

    ---Sharon Hinck

Unworthy

Winners!

Two winners!

Thanks to everyone who participated in my recent contest by sharing posts about my new book, The Deliverer. Since I appreciate your efforts so much, I decided to give away TWO prizes instead of one. Using a random number generator, one name was chosen from my blog post comments, and one from my Facebook contest. Congratulations Anjanette and Elizabeth! I'll be contacting you to get your address and will mail you your copy of Renovating Becky Miller.

If you entered and didn't win this time, take heart! Next week I'll be starting a super deluxe giveaway on Goodreads, so be sure to look for that one.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Lifting my Hands

When I think of dear friends, I'm often moved to send them a greeting card to let them know I'm thinking of them. Today I decided to create a card to send to my heavenly Father.

Feel free to share it, if you like.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Reliance

My Only Hope

"And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you." Psalm 39:7 (NLT)

Do you ever feel hopeless? Yesterday I was putting excited expectation in something that could effect positive and needed change in my life, but I soon saw the answers wouldn't come--at least not from political committees, medical advances, or my own efforts. I felt a wave of hopelessness. 

As I prayed, God reminded me of His love, and the many ways He has enacted that love in my life. I have had other times when I've lost hope in people, organizations, my abilities. They can all let us down. But God's relentless love never stops. I can have faith in what His love is doing behind the scenes...in my life and in the world.

Sometimes it's good to lose hope, when our hope is misplaced. 

Lord, today we look to You. We lay before You every hurt, every need, every plea. Our hope is in You. Amen.

Daily Bread

Lord, you taught us to pray for daily bread, and later you said you ARE the Bread of Life.
Help me hunger to know You. Nourish my soul. Amen.

Preparing for the Work of the Day

Dear Lord,

I stop. I hold still. I wait for your Word to me. I'm here in the vineyard, ready for another day. What would you like me to do today? 

Thank you for your love that is as constant as the air I breathe. Thank you for your amazing creativity at bringing glory from ashes . . . especially the ashes of my failures. 

Help me walk with a light tread today, listening for your change of course at any time. Whether you ask me to prune, to weed, or to harvest. Whether you call me to a crowded row of laborers or to a solitary corner of the vineyard. 

I am here to serve you with joy in my heart . . . and gratitude for the gift of another day of life. Amen.

Caught up by Grace

"But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it." --Ephesians 4:7 (NIV)

Lord, thank you for swooping us into the delight of another day of life in You. Amen.

A New Contest

The launch of The Deliverer is off to a rollicking good start, so it's time for another contest. Everyone who shares this post  will be entered into a drawing for a free autographed paperback copy of "Renovating Becky Miller" (a lighthearted novel about the perils of home renovation and over ambition). You can use the buttons below this blog post, then please comment here to tell me where you shared it.

Reviews for The Deliverer:

"Best book in the series." - Kat, Amazon reviewer

"Sharon Hinck has crafted a compelling plot, an entrancing setting, and characters that are so realistic I felt like I was welcoming long lost friends." - Virginia, Amazon reviewer

"There were moments in this story where I was certain God was speaking to me and my situation." - Gina, Amazon reviewer

More About the The Deliverer:
-->

A lost songkeeper must lead her people to a long awaited Deliverer

Eager to serve the One, a young songkeeper travels to the dark and foreign nation of Hazor, but her confusing, rough-edged companion has lost his Restorer gifts. As danger rises against them both, she loses her freedom, her memories, and her hope. Now even the very music of her soul is threatened.

In our world, Susan Mitchell no longer feels at home in the carpool lane. Burdened by the unhealed scars from her trips through the portal, she fights to suppress her worry about her son, who remains out of contact in Lyric. But when a mysterious message hints Jake is in danger, she and her husband are swept away—to the place they least expect.

Clan rebellions. Lost Restorers. Has the One turned away, or will the face of the Deliverer bring light to the darkness? 

New to the series? Grab book one, The Restorer, for free on Kindle!

Blessings,

Sharon Hinck

The Deliverer - a tidbit from the new novel

"Restrained Linette, the faithful songkeeper. I knew all the right words, but my spirit was a clashing chord, all mangled sounds and broken strings ... But Lukyan had taught me long ago that the One could take the smallest melody and build a strong chorus around it, if the music were true. The smallest life could produce magnificent worship when it was placed in His hands." -- Linette in The Deliverer by Sharon Hinck

Safe Harbor

William Shedd said, "A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for."

Life isn't safe. Even those of us who prefer to drop anchor in peaceful ports can still be capsized by sudden storms. That's an uncomfortable realization. We'd rather believe that we have control. That if we eat a healthy diet we'll never get sick, if we have an alarm system our house won't be robbed, if we make smart financial choices we'll never be poor. That our storm-tracking radar will somehow protect us from wind and rain, and that the plans we make for ourselves will unfold per our schedule. Yet there are times that despite our efforts, the illusion of safety fractures.

A bleak and scary thought if our time on planet Earth were our only lot.

But there is a much bigger picture.

Jesus said, "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

Our time on this planet is only a small piece of our destiny. While we're here, there will be trouble - even sudden, inexplicable tragedy. We grieve. We mourn. We hurt. We realize that life isn't safe. We hold and comfort each other.

And all the while we look to the horizon. Because our overcoming Jesus isn't done with the story. One day we'll be with Him. One day we won't have to battle cancer, crime, and craziness, fires, floods and storms. One day we'll sail into our home port and He'll joyfully welcome us to the safety of His presence.

Even today, I nestle into the truth that while storms brew, my soul is safe in His care. "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." Psalm 4:8

Living Water

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again,  but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” John 4:13-14 (NIV)

Lord, I'm too often thirsty for things that leave me empty. Give us all Your living water. Refresh us so we can serve others with joy. Amen.

Bonus Scene 9 - The Restorer's Son

The Restorer's Son - Bonus Scene

In which Susan grapples with fear.

-->

After Chapter 33

Susan:

The backdoor creaked as I slipped outside, and I hoped it wouldn’t disturb Mark or Jake. We’d cleaned up the kitchen, had our pizza, and settled down for the night. But despite my exhaustion, I’d lain awake listening to Mark’s soft snores for hours. Finally my restlessness drove me to our backyard.

Overhead the moon slipped in and out of clouds, and I settled on the porch steps to study the sky. The constant gray haze over the clans had felt like a brewing storm that never dissipated. And the total black emptiness of their nights was frightening. I was relieved beyond words to be back in my world of moonlight shadows against the trees and a midnight sky rich with stars.

I sighed. Even though I could glimpse eternity and see God’s presence in the stars, His purposes still felt as cloudy as the hazy atmosphere over the clans.

Jake’s hand had healed. Instantly. Completely. What did that mean? Was he the next Restorer?

I sat up and hugged my knees, my breathing turning ragged.

Not my son. Anything but that, Lord. I’ll do extra shifts at the soup kitchen. Be nicer to the annoying chairman of the PTA. Memorize the whole New Testament. There are a million ways I can show my love for you. 

But don’t ask me to watch my son face danger. I’ve done that before, remember?

Over the swish of a distant car and summer crickets in the tall grass, the sounds of the pediatric cancer wing echoed in my mind: chirping monitors, murmuring voices, the silent tears of parents that held more volume than a scream. Jake had recovered, but I’d never forget the terror of those months and the fear that squeezed the breath from my lungs.

The same breathless dread hit me in Lyric when Jake had been under Rhusican thrall, a cold and contemptuous stranger. Each time he stared past me, each time a sneer colored his clipped words, each time he turned away, my heart contracted more tightly until I feared it would be crushed into dust.

But we’d made it home. The Jake we knew and loved had returned. I wanted to savor answered prayer, rescue, and normalcy. I wanted barbeques and picnics, family hikes at the nature center.

What if Jake went back to Lyric? What if he left forever? I pressed my forehead against my knees, the ache curling my spine until I thought I’d implode. I didn’t want to confront what the future might hold for Jake. 

Because it wasn’t just Jake. Each of my children would one day set out to fulfill their own purposes—find their own way to serve God. I’d known that before they were born. Yet I hadn’t let that knowledge intrude. Not while I held their soft powder-scented infant bodies. Not while I pushed them on the swings and elicited joyous shrieks. Not while I held my breath in the back row wondering if they’d remember their lines in the school play. 

When they lifted chocolate smeared faces for sticky kisses, when they lisped Sunday school songs, when they entrusted me with wounds from friends, or whispered their fears, or disappointments . . . somehow I convinced myself that I would always be their best ally, that even as adults they’d turn to me. My vision of the future was fuzzy, but for some inexplicable reason, when I pictured that vague era of grown children, I liked to assume they’d all find homes just down the block.

“Honey?” Mark called softly through the screen door. 

“Out here.”

He came outside and settled beside me. “What are you doing?”

I didn’t realize the night air held a cold edge until his presence warmed me. “Mark, what if Jake has to go back through the portal? What if we’re separated from him forever? And even if that never happens, what if the kids all grow up and grow away and we never see them? What if—”

“Whoa. Your imagination is off and running, isn’t it?” He wrapped an arm around me.

My body softened against him slightly, but then I pulled up. “How can you be so calm? We have to figure out what it means.”

“Why? It won’t change what we need to do for our family.”

He already had a plan? “All right. Lay it on me. What should we do?”

He turned and held my shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles against my tight muscles. “The same as always. We love them. Protect them the best we can. Pray for them.”

“But . . . ” It wasn’t enough. Surely he could see that. I needed answers, strategies, promises of how the story of each child would turn out. Then again, I had longed for those sorts of assurances as we floundered our way through Lyric and Braide Wood and Hazor and back again. In the midst of uncertainties, the One had guided our steps, provided unexpected allies, strengthened us when our hearts ached with fear. I sagged and let my head drop forward to rest against Mark’s chest. Love, protect, pray. He was right.

“And trust,” I whispered. “Trust that God’s love is big enough for the next part of the story.”

“That’s my girl.” His words were a deep approving rumble, and beyond them I heard an echo of an even deeper and stronger voice. Mark helped me to my feet.

I opened the door. “Let’s get to bed. We need our rest. We have a lot of loving and praying to do tomorrow.”

---

You can read more of the story in The Restorer's Son.

Blessings!

Sharon Hinck

.

           

Advent Devotional Booklet

Last year, I was invited by Creative Communications for the Parish publishers to write daily prayers for the Advent season. Our Lord Emmanuel: Daily Prayers for Advent  booklets are now available to order. Congregations and small groups can order bundles, or you can order one for your Advent quiet times this fall.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Watching

"I wait for the Lord
    more than watchmen wait for the morning,
    more than watchmen wait for the morning." Psalm 130:6

When suffering beats us down, we can still watch and wait, eager to catch the first glimpse of God's mighty work in our situation.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Invasion

It started with the strawberries. Lots of holes in the leaves. I'm a haphazard gardener so it took me a while to identify the culprit. But on a sunny day when I was weeding and wondering why the strawberries were such a mess, I spotted them. Nasty red bugs. Everywhere. Huddled in masses. Destroying my Granny's rose bush, my strawberries, and everything else in their path.

Being an organic type, I squashed as many as I could before they scurried away out of sight. But there were too many for me.

What made this battle particularly poignant for me (besides the fact that I won't be canning any strawberry jam from the garden this year) was that I've had some nasty garden bugs chomping at my spirit lately, too.

It started small. Wanting my book to sell well. Not an evil desire. After all, God called me to write the book, opened the doors for it, and wanted people to read it, right? But soon more little bugs gathered. Wanting my book to sell better than others. Worry that it's not doing well enough. Craving approval from people. Obsessing over its ranking. Tiny bugs of idolatry. Sin.

Yes, sin. It's not a popular word. But when I take my eyes off my Savior, that's where my fallen nature take me. Self-centered, anxious, distracted, unavailable for God's changes of direction--chewed up by nasty bugs. The bugs in the garden reminded me of how ugly sin is.

And as in my strawberry patch, the infestation is beyond my ability to squash.

But the good news is, it's not too much for God. His sunlight reveals the pests. His forgiveness wipes them out. Completely. And soon He can bear fruit through my life again.

Have you spotted an invasion in your spiritual life recently? Let's ask Christ to forgive us and restore the garden of our heart.

Blessings!
Sharon

99 Cent Offer!

Great news!
My publisher is offering a special on Stepping Into Sunlight for the next few days.
Only 99 cents for the e-book!

Stepping Into Sunlight

Penny Sullivan, a Navy chaplain’s wife witnesses a violent crime and struggles with post traumatic stress while her husband is on his first deployment.

Far from family and friends, she fights to heal for the sake of her seven-year-old son, even though ordinary tasks take heroic efforts. She’s haunted by flashbacks and is tormented by fear, so she designs a project to speed her recovery: doing one small, kind act for a different person each day.

REVIEWS & ENDORSEMENTS:

“Hinck, a 2008 Christy finalist for visionary fiction, offers an especially grounded tale of sudden trauma and slow healing...Hinck has done her homework on post-traumatic stress syndrome, and is not afraid to show readers that challenges can deepen faith.”— Publisher’s Weekly

In this uplifting novel set in Chesapeake, VA, Penny Sullivan is losing her grip after witnessing a traumatic event. . . Well written and compelling, this title will appeal to readers of Karen Kingsbury, Ann Tatlock, and Angela Elwell Hunt.” — Library Journal

“Like Sharon Hinck’s heroine, I, too, witnessed a crime. It’s been years, but I relived every emotion along with Penny Sullivan. Told with humor and lump-in-the-throat insight, Stepping into Sunlight is a compelling story of learning to live again after trauma. This was my first Sharon Hinck novel, but it garnered her a permanent spot on my favorite authors list.”— Deborah Raney, author of A Vow to Cherish and The Clayburn Novels series

“With emotional and spiritual honesty, Stepping into Sunlight chronicles the rebirth of faith and courage in a young woman traumatized by the unthinkable. Penny, Sharon Hinck’s authentic and endearing heroine, is so convincing that I found myself, well, praying for her. That’s compelling fiction! I laughed. I cried. I asked God a lot of questions. In the end, Hinck’s concise yet poetic language ushered me into a worshipful place. Stepping into Sunlight definitely prospered my soul.” — Patti Hill, author of The Queen of Sleepy Eye