Bonus Scene 7 - The Restorer

After Chapter 24

Cameron:

Below my window, bedraggled people from a variety of clans made their way toward the tower. Drumbeats carried from the end of the street. I would normally put in my appearance along with other prominent leaders. But everyone’s preoccupation with the gathering provided a perfect time to begin my greatest project—transforming the records.

I turned to Medea. “Wait here.”

She nodded vacantly, tracing her hands along the smooth limestone wall of my office, staring at something I couldn’t see. Had she heard me? Lately, I was often uncertain. While she possessed the power and brilliance of a hundred magchips, she was also as unreliable as a shorting connection.

Rationality flickered on and off and in her, but that only added to my fascination. Besides, my plans relied on her help, and her abilities were breathtaking to watch.

I shook my head and hurried down to the lower levels. All the more reason to make the changes to the records. That alone would finally free me to pursue my agenda to strengthen the clans.
Our clans were stuck—trapped—by extreme adherence to the outdated Records that kept us from competing with the nations around us in weapons’ progress. If those stubborn old songkeepers were more willing to compromise, I wouldn’t have had to take such drastic steps.

Surely the One who watched our clans also understood my choices. After all, He had appointed the Council to protect the people, and that’s exactly what I was doing.

My heart pounded against my temples as I made my way down the dark hall to the hiding place. So close at last. Seasons of planning and effort, and finally my greatest achievement as Chief Councilmember was within my grasp.

I paused to be sure no footsteps echoed on the stairs behind me. No one was following. I brought up the lightwall and stepped toward the alcove.

Empty. The Records I'd collected and hidden had disappeared.

Fear wrapped insidiously into my thoughts. Could the old stories be true? Were the Records really linked to the One’s tangible presence in some way? Had He taken back the Records I’d so carefully collected?

I choked back a laugh. Ridiculous. I forced my pulse to slow to match the throbbing drums that murmured in the distance. There was only one explanation, and it wasn’t a supernatural one. Tristan.

He’d been in Braide Wood when my men had arrived to take the records. He would have understood the implications. But would he have dared to disobey the Council’s orders for him to report to the River Border? Angry as I was at the missing Records, grim satisfaction built in my chest. Tristan didn’t deserve to be a guardian. I’d tried to prove that to the Council, but each effort had failed. But if he’d ignored their direct orders, I’d finally have what I needed to destroy him. Especially when combined with the evidence that addle-witted Susan had provided.

I took the stairs two at a time and rushed back into my office.

Medea spun slowly in the center of the room, her chin tilting up and hair spilling down her back. Her skirt flared around her ankles as she turned again and again.

“We have a problem,” I said.

She kept spinning, but a smile lit her face. “Oh, good. Puzzles are lovely.”

I touched her shoulder, and she slowed, finishing her turn to face me. “The Records are gone,” I said.
 “But we can use this. I’ll need your help at the Council meeting. Are you ready?”

She pulled a dagger from her boot sheath and smiled. “I’m very ready.”

Yield

I don't always like the concept of yielding when I'm driving.
I don't like it in life, either.

God and I have had long talks about my problem with yielding to Him.

As a writer, I've discovered areas of the work where I have no control: the decision by a publisher to offer a contract, the number of copies that sell, and the opinions of others about the book.

Yield.

God whispers it to me.

Let go of your need to convince everyone to like you. Stand strong in my pronouncement that you are my beloved child. Stop believing you will shatter and die when someone is unhappy, disappointed, or angry with you.

Yield control of something you really never had control over in the first place.

My heart answers, "Yes."

Is God whispering to you to merge more deeply into Him? Does it require yielding . . . a giving way?

Lord, give all of us the courage today to yield to your grace and tender love for us. Help us give way where you are nudging certain attitudes and actions out of our lives.
Amen.

Sharon Hinck

Sneak Peek - The Deliverer

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"The spires of the city of Lyric sang of beauty that was still close to the source of all artistry. The forest around Braide Wood refreshed wanderers with the scent of pine and honey-spice. The Grey Hills in their haunting sadness still murmured of hope and opened my heart to vastness as they stretched into the horizon. Even the harsh granite of Hazor stirred boldness and vigor."

---Susan in The Deliverer by Sharon Hinck

Song of First Light

Just a reminder - if you're planning on submitting lyrics for the "Song of Lyric" contest, send them soon so there is time to post them to my blog in May. The entries will be sent to the judging panel on May 31st.

While you wait, you can listen to the music for Song of First Light from The Restorer.

Just visit my multi-media page, scroll down, and find the button for the song.

Enjoy! And whether or not you write songs, I pray you'll make music in your heart today.

Blessings,
Sharon Hinck

Lilac Day

"The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever." Isaiah 40:8

Lilac Day

Spring is always a remarkable surprise after a Minnesota winter, but my favorite day in the spring is lilac day.

When we bought our home years ago, a woody, bedraggled lilac bush in the backyard gave only stingy blooms. Each year, we thinned a third of the oldest branches from the ground. The beleaguered lilac has survived our ham-handed pruning, blizzards, hail, and ice-storms, and scorched leaves from the nearby barbecue.

But now it explodes with flowers each May. Every year I wait for the day that the blossoms unfold, and I gather armfuls to fill vases in every room.

The scent is liquid confection, and on any other day might be too cloying. But in spring's rain-scrubbed, earthy air, it's a perfect note of sweetness. Each year I also try every tip to make the blooms last. Yet they're fragile. Almost overnight, small lavender petals crumble and fall like a lace hanky; and the lilac's glory passes, leaving me a familiar melancholy.

We wait, we pray. We endure branch-snapping storms. And as God's sun coaxes, we bloom into a fragile, short-lived wonder. Lilac day is short. Life is short. A fistful of decades that amount to the swiftly wilting lilac day.

Lord, let me bring sweetness and beauty in every bud and stem and twig of my life until that day you change my fleeting life into eternal bloom. Amen.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Bonus Scene 6 - The Restorer

After Chapter 21

Wade's efforts to protect Susan when she's taken to Lyric

Wade:

The transport pulled out, and I caught a glimpse of Susan’s face through the window. Terror creased her brow. The fear in her eyes was almost worse than when Tristan had first introduced her to us at Ferntwine. I paced. When would the next transport arrive? The schedule would be off because of the Council guard commandeering it.

Finally, I settled onto a tree stump, got out my whetstone, and sharpened my blade. Tristan drummed it into all of us that the simple disciplines made a guardian effective. The stone scraped along steel in a comforting rhythm.

Straightforward dangers are fine. It’s why I became a guardian. Innocent people need defending. I certainly don’t have the brains to be a builder or transtech, or the leadership to be on the Council, or the ear to hear from the One like the songkeepers. Put a sword in my hand and point me in the right direction—that’s all I need. But in the last few seasons, the situation in the clans had grown as muddy as the clay pits near Shamgar.

Turning my sword, I worked the second edge. First Tristan had disappeared and the Council had started asking questions. Then Susan had come along, igniting questions about Restorers—an idea partly exciting but mostly confusing, especially since she wasn’t what the clans needed and didn’t at all fit the sort of protector that the One promised.

Then more Rhusicans were allowed to roam about the clans. As if Kendra’s experiences weren’t warning enough. And somehow, one of them had even gotten his twisted fingers into my skull. I shivered and lifted my sword, sighting down the edge. Still straight and true. At least my sword was reliable.

Sometimes it seemed like the whole world was shaking to its very foundations. Too much going wrong in too many ways. And today one of the Council Guard had taken the Braide Wood Records. His explanation about consolidating them in Lyric hadn’t calmed Lukyan. I’d never seen the old songkeeper that upset before. I had run to warn Tristan, but that had only led Case and the others to him. Now Tristan had given me one simple task, and I’d already failed.

The sky moved toward a midday glow before the next transport pulled up. I bounded on board. I would have gotten out and pushed if my efforts would have helped move it faster. But I eventually reached the Lyric stop. The next challenge was to figure out where Case had brought Susan once they’d reached Lyric. They’d said the Council wanted to meet with her, so I strode quickly to the Council tower. I needed someone like Kieran. He could talk people in circles and confuse them enough to get past.

One of the Council guards was someone I’d trained with when I was a first-year, so I decided on a direct approach. “Well met! Haven’t seen you in a while. How has your posting in Lyric been treating you?”

He didn’t relax from his stiff posture at the door, but he grinned. “Not bad. How is everything back in Braide Wood? What brings you to Lyric?”

“An assignment from my captain. I need to find Case. Have you seen him?”

He gave a tight nod. “Yesterday. He’s here often. Haven’t seen him today, though.”

“All right. Thanks. Maybe someone inside can help me.” I squeezed past him without waiting for an answer.

Every time I’d been in the Council tower, my collar felt too tight and my boots too dusty. I ignored the slickly dressed, important-looking people moving along the halls and made my way to the Braide Wood council office.

No one had heard of Susan or the orders to bring her to Lyric. And the junior council member who talked to me made me feel like I was an annoyance who was wasting her time. Why couldn’t I have been given a straightforward assignment? Like patrolling the River Borders with Dylan.
Thinking of Dylan reminded me of Linette. She spent a lot of time in Lyric, preparing for the large Gatherings. She might have what I needed—some wisdom about my next step. I headed for the worship tower.

Lukyan would be proud of me. When I was a pup, he used to smile and tell us all, “When in doubt, go to the One.” I sure hoped the One, or at least his songkeeper, would have an idea about where I should look next.

The Joy of Waiting

Since there aren't any new submissions for the "Song of Lyric" contest to post today, I decided to pull up something I wrote TEN YEARS AGO (whew!!!) about the writing life. I think perhaps at that time, I was waiting for news about whether a publisher wanted "The Restorer."

The Joy of Waiting

Last week, I began composing a list of the good things about being a writer. Since I tend to get cranky and melancholy, I figured I needed a reminder of what I should be grateful for.

1. I can work in my pajamas
2. I can take a notebook and pen for a hike in the woods and work in beautiful settings
3. I sometimes get free books to review or endorse
4. I've met the best, most amazing people
5. I get to practice waiting.

Okay, that last one wasn't on my list. Being a writer involves a tortuous amount of waiting. Nail-biting while waiting for an agent’s opinion on my latest idea. Pacing while hoping for news from my editor on whether my manuscript has potential. Checking emails obsessively to see what my critique partners thought of a recent chapter.

Last week, I read a chapter in Marlene Bagnull’s wonderful book, Write His Answer. She wrote about waiting expectantly, productively, and patiently.

My vivid imagination jumps to worst-case scenarios when I’m waiting. “The publisher will finally catch on that I don’t know what I’m doing and reject my new proposal. The editors are sitting around laughing at my clumsy prose.”

So, in an effort to wait expectantly, I worked on expecting God’s good surprises . . . whatever shape they might take. Once when the phone rang, I even thought, “That could be my agent calling with a contract offer.” Amazing how much more fun my writing became when I shushed the negative assumptions.

Waiting productively isn’t difficult for me. As a recovering workaholic, I comfort my anxiety by working. So I kept writing during my weeks of waiting for news on a new project. And I also asked God to make the time productive in other ways. Strengthening relationships, caring for physical health, studying and improving my skills.

Patiently? Well, that’s another story. I’m the kind of person who is so desperate to see what’s around the next corner I barely notice the street I’m on at the moment. But God was providing me a chance to practice. To remind myself that His timing is spot on. To acknowledge that most of life happens BETWEEN desired events, so I better embrace the between times.

One of the joys of being a writer really IS the experience of waiting. Writing chapter after chapter with uncertainty about whether it will be published. Revising manuscripts that might never be read. Trusting that God has called me to this path. Every day is raw and frightening and blazing with potential. And that propels me straight into God’s arms.

And that’s another one of the joys of writing.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Mammoth Self-Doubts?

I told a friend today that I was having mammoth self-doubts.

A picture sprang to mind of a huge, furry, snaggle-tusked mammoth, tearing through the garden of my dreams and hopes.

Writers often get visits from this wooly creature, so I've tried to learn not to panic when it thunders in for a chat. Instead, when it waggles its tusks in my direction, I'm reminded to run to Jesus.

"Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God." - Psalm 20:7

Let's not rely on the chariots of our own skills and human effort (apart from Him), or the horses of approval from others. And let's not be trampled by the mammoth reasons to give up. Let's simply trust in the name of the Lord of God and take the next step forward.

Do you ever struggle with mammoth doubts? What verses help you at those times?

Blessings,
Sharon Hinck

A Word Fitly Spoken

"A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver." 
Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)

I just got home from renewing my drivers license. I don't know many people who enjoy spending time at the DMV, and today a sign warned of unusually long wait times.

While filling out my form, I watched the women behind the counter interact with each person. They complimented babies, they noticed similar birthdays, they chatted about the weather.

They found common ground.

Laughter, smiles, and patience circulated the room because of their warmth and kind words.

Their example made me resolve to think about the reception I give each stranger I encounter. Can I find some common ground? Can I stir a smile?

Where ever your day takes you, may you both hear and share words set in silver!

Sharon Hinck

A Book Blitz Gift!

Today, Sunday May 3, 2015, my publisher is hosting a wonderful Book Blitz - giving away as many copies of The Restorer (ebook) as possible.

Let's see how many we can give away in ONE DAY!

1. If you haven't already grabbed a copy of the ebook, please do! The Restorer is an unexpected tale of faith and adventure. (And since it features a mom as heroine, it's a great Mother's Day treat!)

2. Help me spread the word! Tell all your friends about the freebie, and invite them to order it today.

You can "share" the post on my facebook page, or "retweet" on twitter, or go old school and phone a friend to let them know.

Thanks for joining the fun of introducing new people to the stories!

Blessings,

Sharon Hinck

Bonus Scene 5 - The Restorer

After Chapter 15

How Nolan came to be assigned to be a messenger to Braide Wood

Nolan:

I grabbed the edge of the jagged wall and skidded into a quick turn on my way to the messenger’s gathering room. The polished stone floors of Zarek’s palace didn’t provide much traction. My feet slipped, but I ran faster. Late again. My mother had been in so much pain that I’d risked an early morning errand to the market to bargain for a few drug patches. I had to slip into the room before Keeper Fentick began handing out the day’s assignments. Maybe today would be one of the days he lumbered in late nursing a headache from a night of drinking.

Slowing to quiet my breathing, I ducked into the door and wedged myself among a group of other messengers. The mountain gods had deserted me today. Fentick was already dispensing assignments.
His bloodshot eyes found me instantly. “And finally, the generals have requested a messenger for a special task.”

The smirk that spread on his jowled face chilled me more than his usual snarls. “Nolan, pack two day’s rations and report to the lehkan division. They’re assembling at the gate.”

My eyes widened. A military assignment? I was a city messenger.

“But his mother…” Arvon piped up from one of the tables. He was a young boy, recently sent from the Grey Hills province. I’d brought him home for a hot meal. He knew how hard I’d worked to protect my assignment in town so I could care for my mother. But he was too new to understand the danger in questioning Fentick.

“Yes, sir.” I jumped forward, hoping to deflect attention.

Too late. Fentick trudged a few steps closer to the table and cuffed Arvon hard across the face. Arvon hit the floor and wisely stayed down.

Fentick looked around the room. “Any other questions? Good. To your places.” He lumbered away without a backward glance.

Most of the messengers scattered. A few glanced my way as they sped out of the hall, but no one spoke to me.

I offered Arvon a hand. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your head down and your mouth shut?”

He rubbed his chin. “So you did. I just thought if he knew about your mother he might keep you in the city.”

I used to find the new messengers from the outer provinces a source of humor. All cheerful ignorance and belief that if they did their job well, they’d be rewarded. I smiled bleakly. “Nice try. But there is something you can do for me.”

He nodded eagerly. “Glad to.”

“If I’m not back in a week, let my mother know where I was sent.”

He frowned. “A week? But Keeper Fentick said you’re bringing two days’ rations.”

As soon as the keeper had barked his orders, I understood the implications. The cold knot in my gut threatened to unravel, but I couldn’t let Arvon see my fear. “It’s two days’ ride to the mountain border. They’re using me in a military campaign. That’s two days to arrive and no days to return.”

Arvon scratched his head. “They have food at the outposts?”

I sighed. “No. I won’t need food. I’m not meant to return.”

Comprehension dawned slowly across his face. “But you can’t… Your mother… You…”

I clapped him on the back as we walked to the door. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be back before she has time to notice I’m gone. Now get to your assignment.”

He nodded and tore off down the hall, but cast one last worried look back at me. I shooed him away and ran the other direction, choosing the shortest route to the city gate. I was tempted to detour past my mother’s home, but I didn’t dare keep the army waiting. Besides, worry would only worsen her health. I’d managed to hide my fear from Arvon, but I wasn’t sure I could keep up my courage if I saw her.

Outside the gate, lehken pawed the rocky ground, some weighted down with armored soldiers and others carrying bulky loads of what looked like minitrans strapped to their backs. I wove through the men and reported to the general, who sent me to march with the foot soldiers.

By the time the afternoon rains cooled us, we were deep in the dark mountains. I’d never traveled this far from the city.

A strange howl from a distant cliff set my heart pounding, and I edged a bit closer to the soldiers I was keeping step with. One of the men chuckled. “You think this is bad? Did they tell you where we’re heading? Braide Wood.” The hardened soldier shivered.

The name was the stuff of nightmares. The enemy so close to our border, stubbornly in the way of Hazor’s expansion. Backward. Barbarian. Why would the general need a messenger at the borders? I scuffed along the rain-soaked slate on the trail. Maybe he needed me to send reports back to the king, and the two-days’ rations was Fentick’s idea of a bad joke.

Another howl rent the air, closer this time. Around me, the men’s faces turned grim. A trickle of cold rain found its way past my collar, and I rubbed my arms, trying to warm myself.

When the sky darkened and we made camp, I resolved not to guess about my role anymore. I’d be given my orders when I was needed, and my imagination would just make the suspense worse. I only hoped Arvon would help my mother, because deep in my heart I knew that there wasn’t much chance I’d survive this assignment.

Lyric Entry - Chawna Schroeder

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Chawna Schroeder. You can visit her HERE.

First Light, Last Light

By Chawna Schroeder

The One creates

New life breathes in

Eyes open wide

And see the first light

From the first light

          He holds our hand

To the last light

          He shuts our eyes to sleep

The One nurtures

Children blossom

Hands growing skilled

Faces to the light

From the first light

          He holds our hand

To the last light

          He shuts our eyes to sleep

The One strengthens

Life pledged to life

A house is built

Beneath the warm light

From the first light

          He holds our hand

To the last light

          He shuts our eyes to sleep

The rains fall, tears of pain

          Broken hearts

          Poisoned minds

          Beetle stings

          Rizzid menace

Enemies without and within

The rains fall, tears of joy

          Mending One

          Cleansing One

          Healing One

          Protecting One

Majesty, power are all His

The One gives rest

Deep sighs breathe out

Eyes sliding shut

At the last of light

From the last light

          He holds our hand

To the first light

          He opens eyes again

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Lyric Entry - Jessica White

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Jessica White:


Totally Surrendered

As I watched the storm approaching
My heart filled up with fear
My mind began to race because
I knew no shelter near.

But You showed up in that moment.
You said "Be not afraid."
You would lead me up to higher ground
If by Your side I'd stay.

(Chorus)

You lit the path
So I could see,
And when I fell
You carried me.

It was You who rescued me.

You lead the way
To higher ground.
It's by Your love
That I was found.

It was You who rescued me.

And I stand in awe of You....
Totally surrendered.


You clearly knew the way although
The path was not well marked.
And patiently You guided me
As the sky grew very dark.

And as we reached the hilltop,
You pointed out a light.
There below a cabin stood
Where we'd be safe for the night.

Chorus (repeated)

As the rain began to fall,
You opened up the door.
You turned and You asked me
"Do You want to know Me more?"

In that very moment
I saw Your nail scarred hands.
I understood Your sacrifice
And what Your word commands.

(Chorus melody different words)

You took my place.
You died for me.
You bared my sin
On Calvary.

It was You who set me free.

Lord by Your grace
You washed me clean.
It was Your love
that rescued me.

It was You who set me free.


Totally surrendered.

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Lyric Entry - Karri Compton (#2 of 2)

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Karri Compton. You can visit her blog HERE.

"Gather to the Tower"

When darkness comes and fear surrounds
The One is e'er our hope and shield
He fights with strength for all His people
Come, your spirit to Him yield

Gather to the tower, the tower where His presence hovers in a mist so palpable 
And praise the One, our Defender, Whose power is unstoppable

When good tidings come our way
And all is right within our land
Come and praise the One, our All
For guidance from His loving hand

Gather to the tower, the tower where His presence hovers in a mist so palpable 
And praise the One, our Defender, Whose mercy is unstoppable

All glory to the gracious One
Who calls our people for His own
Perfect, holy Maker He
Sits majestic on His throne
Gather to the tower, the tower where His presence hovers in a mist so palpable 
And praise the One, our Defender, Whose goodness is unstoppable

Gather now and praise the One
Thanking Him for all He's done
A god who's higher there is none
Gather now and praise the One
Gather now and praise the One


Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Branches of Fruit

"But you, O mountains of Israel, will produce branches and fruit for my people Israel, for they will soon come home." (Ezekiel 36:8)

Lord, please produce fruit in us to bless and serve those around us. Help our lives to glorify You, as we await the day when You gather us home into Your presence. Amen.

Sharon Hinck

Bonus Scene 4 - The Restorer

Here's a glimpse inside the mind of Kendra as Susan and Tristan struggle to draw her back from Rhusican poison.

After Chapter 13

Kendra:

I was five when Kieran taught me Perish, barely old enough to remember not to pop the smooth stones into my mouth like a curious toddler. The patterns fascinated me. I loved pushing my white stones into place to block the attack of my brother’s black ones. Imagining the scenarios the game represented were no problem for me. In my mind’s eye, guardians rode forward to protect the clan and noble heroes sacrificed everything to beat back invasion.

No matter how quickly I moved, Kieran was quicker. I’d guard my village on one side, only to be attacked on the flank. My nimble fingers adjusted the placement faster and faster. Black and white pieces shuffled and reshuffled, but I couldn’t clear the game.

Ever since the Rhusican at Blue Knoll stared into my eyes, whispering doubt and confusion, I’d been caught in some sort of game of Perish. Move and countermove.

Anxieties advanced like black pebbles, tumbling, avalanching, burying me.

The clans were in danger. Someone needed to do something. I needed to do something. Yet the political issues were huge. I was powerless. Still, there had to be an answer. Faster. There wasn’t time.

Tristan was taking too many risks. The River Borders were dangerous. But he wouldn’t listen to me. I couldn’t stop him. Yet I had to. I had to do more, or I’d lose him. He was taking too many risks. I pushed one thought aside looking for an answer but, like Perish rocks, another took its place, and the horrible circle continued.

From far away, the voice of a stranger interrupted the battle. “Be still and know…”

No time for that. If I stopped and listened, if I didn’t stay focused on the pieces, they’d surround me. I had to organize the problems. Find solutions. Worry them into place.

“Be still and know…” The woman’s gentle voice chanted a chorus I’d never heard before, but it felt familiar even in its strangeness. My body shuddered as I let the melody pull me from the worries I fought to contain.

“I am the Lord that healeth thee.”

Beyond the thready tones of the woman’s voice, I heard the voice of the One. How I longed to sink into that invitation. But if I didn’t fix the Council and Tristan and the Kahlareans, and—

With a sweep of my arm, I flung the Perish stones aside, lashing out against the fear that demanded solutions I couldn’t provide. A moan tore from the deep pain in my core. What had I done? I scrambled to regather the stones. One more time. I needed to try one more time. Maybe this time I could move the pieces into order and stop this chaos. The tortuous puzzle clamored. Fix this. Solve it. Try harder.

Another voice joined the woman’s. Rough-edged and strong. I grew aware of arms that gathered me, supported me.

I’d thought my eyes were open as I watched the Perish stones, but now I opened them and saw his face.

“Tristan?”

A smile lit his features, hope and relief glimmering in his eyes. Frantic strands of anxiety still clung to the edges of my thoughts, but with each passing moment their grip loosened. Was this what it was like for those who closed their eyes in death but opened them in the presence of the One?

Joy built slowly, stretching and filling my mind, casting aside the stones of worry that had seemed so important, so heavy, so insistent. The joy tossed them aside as the pebbles they were. I was awake.

Lyric Entry - Karri Compton (#1 of 2)

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Karri Compton. You can visit her blog HERE.

Lift up your voices
Shout out to the One
Give abundant thanks
For all He has done

From Rendor to Blue Knoll
Lyric to Braide Wood
People of the Verses
Confess the One is good

He guides and sustains us
Strengthens with His hand
And brings to Himself
The People of His land

So praise the One forever
His verses e'er recite
And look for His Deliverer
One day to make all right


Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Direct Our Hearts

"May the Lord direct your hearts into God's love and Christ's perseverance." 2 Thessalonians 3:5

I pray today that God would shape our thoughts, our steps, and our plans in the way that a carefully dug channel can direct water where it needs to go. May He give us strength to persevere and not turn back from loving Him and others. Amen.

Sharon Hinck

Lyric Entry - Elizabeth Goddard

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Elizabeth Goddard. You can learn about her wonderful novels HERE.


This is the day
Made by the One
All creatures big, all creatures small
Await for the Son
Await for the Son
There is a day
For which we await
To be in His light, to rest in the One
Nothing compares to a life
Lived in His presence,
Nothing compares to the Beautiful One
How beautiful He shines, turning darkness to light.
This is the day
Made by the One

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Lyric Entry - Antonina Ruth

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Antonina Ruth


Memories of Braide Wood (Linette's Song)

Come wipe the dust from these packed-away dreams,
When a sword's pierced my heart -
and all's not what it seems -
Come break the dark with the dawn of the Day,
Oh, Promised One, show me the way...

I remember the scent of the woods,
and the warm hearth of light,
and the place where he stood -
When girlhood hopes towards a future so bright
Were a tune on the breeze and a song in the night.

CHORUS:
But now these are just misty memories,
And I wait in shadows for eyes to see
The coming of the longed-for One
The Hope of all Eternity.

Caught between time with a song and a prayer,
And a hope in a heart now burdened with cares;
Suspended between the Then and Not Yet,
I will quietly wait, and will lift up my head,

Singing...

CHORUS:
Bring to fulfillment these memories,
Lighten these shadows with eyes to see
Oh come to me, longed-for One,
My Hope for all Eternity.
Singing...

CHORUS:
Bring to fulfillment these memories,
Lighten these shadows with eyes to see
Oh come to me, longed-for One,
My Hope for all Eternity.

Singing...
Lai lai lai lai, lai lai lai lai, my Hope for all Eternity...

[Repeats/fades]

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Infusion of Joy

(pictured: Minnesota novelists Elizabeth Goddard, Michelle Griep, Chawna Schroeder, and Erica Vetsch)

Infusion of Joy

Do you ever long for some fresh energy for your work? Perhaps you work in the creative arts--writing, music, theatre. Or maybe you are in another field. We all have times when the struggle to work and create begins to feel heavy and sluggish.

As I writer, I do much of my work in isolation, where it's easy to lose perspective or become discouraged. One of the best ideas I've found to infuse joy back into the process is to gather with others.

I occasionally invite a few friends for a day of work at my place. These talented authors recently spent the day writing new scenes. The sound of other hands clicking away at laptops always inspires me to dig a little deeper and get another page written.

Give it a try! No special planning required. Simply invite a couple friends to gather for a day of shared creative work. See if it gives you a boost.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Quicksand

Ever feel like you’re sinking in quicksand? Maybe you’re drowning in piles of work that never seem to end. Or buried under worries. Or weary from relationships that aren’t quite right but you don’t know how to fix. Perhaps you see things you want to change in yourself and feel trapped by your inability to take the next step.

At times like that, Psalm 130 helps me turn my sinking into prayer.

“Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord; Lord, hear my voice. Let your ears be attentive to my cry for mercy.”

(Dear Lord, with the Psalm writer, we turn to you, knowing you hear us. Pull us out of the quicksand and onto solid ground. Guide our steps. We ask in the name of our precious Savior, Amen.)

Blessings!

Sharon Hinck

Bonus Scene 3 - The Restorer

 

Here's another bonus scene - sharing a mother's perspective on her grown children and the new visitor to Braide Wood. This moment would fall after Chapter 8 in The Restorer.

Tara:

When Tristan disappeared down the trail toward the healer’s lodge, I hurried back into the house and pulled out crates of root vegetables and my favorite dried herbs. No skimping today. Tristan was home. He looked a little worse for wear, but he was home.

I hummed as I kneaded dough for some fresh rolls.

Lukyan had told me once that it didn’t honor the One to indulge in constant worry for my children. “They belong to the One, and He has His hand in their lives.” Easy for him to say. He’d never had children like Tristan, Talia, and Tagatha.

How could a mother not worry? Especially when a mother’s love wasn’t enough to keep danger and harm away from her children. Even a mother’s fervent prayers didn’t guarantee that her children would be spared suffering. If my prayers could have brought Kendra back and healed Tristan’s broken heart, it would have happened a thousand times over by now.

Tristan had been gone so long that worry visited me daily—a guest I kicked out again and again, but one who kept knocking.

Of my three children, Tristan wasn’t usually the one to keep me awake at night with worry. His work leading the guardians of Braide Wood was difficult and held some risks, but he was responsible, a strong leader, a man who inspired confidence and trust. It was my youngest who had caused me the most pain over the years. Little Tagatha had shocked me when she’d pledged herself to a man from Lyric and had chosen city life far from her family and clan. My happy mood faded as I thought of the grandchild I rarely saw because of her choices.

I reached overhead and pulled down some dried stalks of sageno. Rubbing the leaves between my hands released their earthy scent, and I pummeled my dough until the herbs were blended well. There’d be time to worry about Tagatha later. Tristan was home—that was what I needed to focus on. Tristan and Kendra. It must have killed him to stay away from her so long.

Every few days I walked to the healer’s lodge and tried to see Kendra, but the stubborn old healers wouldn’t let me spend time with her. Too dangerous, they said. Pah. Families need each other. It was keeping them apart that was dangerous. Fortunately, Tristan was a lot bigger and carried a sword, and I suspected they wouldn’t be able to keep him from seeing her.

Now what to do with the strange woman he’d brought with him? As thrilled as I was to see him, I didn’t know what to think of her. A lost and desperate look haunted her eyes.

Well, whatever her problems, they could surely be helped with a hearty bowl of soup. I set my biggest bowl on the heat trivet and stuffed it with ingredients.

Lyric Entry - Brenda Anderson

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Brenda Anderson. You can find Brenda's novels HERE.


If you didn’t taste the wedding wine
Or see demons cast into swine
Would you believe?
Would you believe?

If you didn’t see 5000 fed
Or the widow’s son rise from his bed
Would you believe?
Would you believe?

(Chorus)

Blessed are they who believe without seeing
Blessed are they who believe without touching
Blessed are they who believe without seeing you, Lord

If you didn’t see the empty tomb
Or the folded linens in that room
Would you believe?
Would you believe?

If you didn't touch fingers to His side
Or feel the nail scars He cannot hide
Would you believe?
Would you believe?

(Chorus)

Blessed are they who believe without seeing
Blessed are they who believe without touching
Blessed are they who believe without seeing you, Lord

If you didn’t see a baby born
Or watch the sun rise in the morn?
Would you believe?
Would you believe?

I would believe

Yes, I would believe!

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Lyric Entry - Hannah Wallace

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Hannah Wallace


Wind like a breath
Rain like kisses
A world brimming over with signs of His mysteries
The One full of love
The One full of might
Guides us by day and guards us by night
His gentle smile glows at first light
The One’s love for us
This is our might
We raise up our eyes
We raise up our praises
To the One clothed in peace
Yet in battle the bravest
Mystery of mysteries
He holds gentle power
He sends us restorers
In our neediest hours
Mystery of mysteries
We’ll worship forever
Breathless in awe
We await our Deliverer

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Lyric Entry-Anne R

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today's entry is by Anne R.


Through the grey
and clouded sky,
the One will guide,
a beacon of light
to the lost
and broken,
the healed
and found,
guiding us all
with the strength of His love.


Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Your Path

"Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths." Psalm 25:4

Bonus Scene 2 - The Restorer

As I gear up for the release of The Deliverer (book 4 in the Sword of Lyric series), I'm sharing bonus scenes from the first three books.

Today is Bonus Scene 2: In which Tristan discovers revenge doesn't heal a broken heart, and there's a strange soccer mom on the loose. This falls after chapter four in The Restorer.

-->

Tristan:

“She warned me.” I tossed back the last swig of clavo and wiped out the mug before tucking it away on a recessed shelf. Not that there was any real need to clean up. The place probably wouldn’t see another person for seasons to come. I was stalling, and I knew it.

Kieran leaned against the open doorway, squinting into the distance. “Who warned you of what?”

“My mother. She tried to stop me.”

“We all tried to stop you. You did what you had to.”

I slung my pack over one shoulder and met Kieran at the door. “She warned me that revenge wouldn’t change anything. She begged me to stay in Braide Wood.”

Kieran shook his head. “You’ve got new things to worry about. By the way, she headed toward the center of town.”

I sighed. Not the direction I needed to go. “Of course she did.” I followed Kieran outside and pulled the door closed.

“I still say you should leave her here and get back to Lyric for some damage control. The Council has probably figured out by now that you aren’t where you’re supposed to be.”

More regret slammed into me. I hadn’t cared about what my mother needed. I hadn’t cared about the guardians in my command. I hadn’t cared about anything but tracking the Rhusican. Every day I’d woken with desperate hope that tore my insides like a rizzid’s claws. Hope that confronting the Rhusican would bring me answers. Hope that justice would ease my pain. Hope that I’d be able to talk to the One again without shaking with rage. And now…now I just felt empty.

“Hey.” Kieran shoved me, a little too hard to be playful. “Stop it. Second guessing makes you weak.”

I swatted him aside and tightened my sword belt. “It’s not weakness to analyze my choices.”

“Choices? You didn’t have choices. You told me he attacked you.”

“He did. But it was still my sword that took his life. I could have—”

“Let him kill you?” Kieran spit the words out through a clenched jaw.

I took a step back. “What are you so mad at me for?”

“Because you’re an idiot. He did more than enough damage, but you insist on making it worse by torturing yourself.” Kieran raked a hand through his dark hair, haggard lines deepening on his face.

Another person I hadn’t considered. He’d been devastated too. My shoulders slumped. “I wish I could bring her back.”

Pain flashed in Kieran’s eyes. He turned away and cleared his throat. “Go track down your protégé before she wanders into a clay pit. Although, come to think of it, that would solve a few problems.” With a dry chuckle, he strode down the street, heading toward Hazor.

I shook my head, picked up the extra pack I’d assembled, and walked toward the center of town to find Susan. Unlike Kieran, I could dare to hope for a Restorer. After all, what else could explain what we’d both seen? Her crumpled, lifeless body had healed. Still, she seemed awfully small and confused to be of much help. If I were still on speaking terms with the One, I’d ask Him what her appearance meant. But for now I’d hope someone in Braide Wood could figure out what to do with her.

Cover Reveal - Deliverer

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The Deliverer

(coming this summer)

A world tuned to deception. A heart waiting for deliverance.

A young songkeeper travels to sing the praises of the One in the dark and foreign world 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. Her secret trips through the portal and worry about her son, who is out of contact in Lyric, have taken a toll. When a mysterious message hints Jake is in danger, she and her husband are swept away—to the place they least expect.

(To see the terrific current Enclave releases, visit them here.)

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

Flowers of the Field

"And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?"  
                                                                                           -- Matthew 6:28-30 (NIV)

May He increase our faith so we can joyfully trust Him today!

Blessings,
Sharon Hinck

Song of Lyric Contest!

The SONG OF LYRIC CONTEST



In celebration of the upcoming release of The Deliverer (book 4 in the Sword of Lyric series), I'm hosting a fun contest with a very special prize.



To participate, write your own song lyrics and email them to me. (s.hinck AT comcast DOT net)



During April and May, I'll post entries to my blog. A panel of judges will rate them in three areas:



1. Artistry  (the beauty and power of your verses)

2. Engagement (how many people post comments to the blog the day your entry is posted)

3. Appropriate to story world (would this be a song one of the Songkeepers in Lyric would sing? No anachronisms that don't fit the world? Any reference to elements from the books?)



The winner will be chosen in June, and will receive a free personalized autographed copy of The Deliverer as soon as it releases. AND the lyrics will be set to music by a professional musician. He will even provide you with a score of your musical work! I can't wait to read and share your lyrics!



You can submit up to three entries, so start creating lyrics!


Sharon Hinck

Blessed Easter!

Christ is risen!

He is risen, indeed! 

Alleluia!

May His resurrection joy live in your heart today and every day,

Sharon Hinck

Maundy Thursday

Maundy Thursday

For my Christian brothers and sisters who follow the traditional church calendar, today is a special day with a strange name. As a child, I always thought we were going to church for "Monday Thursday."

"Maundy" comes from the word "command" or "mandate" - and reminds us to follow Jesus' command to love one another, and serve others as He demonstrated by washing the disciples feet at His last supper with them before He went to the cross.

Churches celebrate with worship, the Lord's Supper, and some do a foot-washing ceremony. But we can also honor the day with acts of humble service and love for others. We could empty garbage even when it's not our usual chore, or fold laundry for another family member, or fill the car with gas, or wash the kitchen floor. Any task that coaxes us to put others above ourselves can be a reminder of how the King of Kings became a servant to save us, and how He gives us a new command to love one another.

Blessed Maundy Thursday!

Sharon Hinck