Sunday, December 19, 2010

Happy News

I know I haven't been able to blog much this past year, but for those who still pop by occasionally to see what's new, I wanted to share some happy news.

I've signed a contract with Marcher Lord Press to release new editions of the Sword of Lyric series books. While it's great to get the books back in print, I'm especially excited about adding some bonus scenes, behind-the-scenes notes, and other surprise features that will make the new editions extra special.

And - to answer the question I find most frequently in my emails each week - yes, I have been working on a fourth book, as well. I had several chapters of the fourth book written a few years ago before health issues sidelined me. Whenever I'm able, I do a bit more work on it, and have made a tiny bit of progress. It's slow going, but I'm not giving up. :-)

Meanwhile, have a blessed Christmas, and may you feel the presence of Emmanuel - "God with us" - throughout each moment of every day.

Sharon Hinck

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Mom Hinck

I met her first when I was about fourteen, and a gawky mess of braces and braids and nervous energy. I was applying to join "Ongoing Ambassadors for Christ" and she was volunteering with the organization and doing interviews with each teen applicant.

I was also sweet on her youngest son, Ted. Perhaps that added to my nerves.

I remember how calm, warm, and strong she was. How safe she made me feel as we talked about some tough theological questions. She approved my application, and in all the years since, I've treasured her approval, because my respect for her was so deep.

Once in college, Ted and I fled to his home to talk with his mom and dad about some upsetting things happening on campus. She made cocoa - with real milk - and listened, and cared, and reassured.

She had a gift for reassuring, because her own assurance was so strong. Assured of her Savior's love. Assured of where she was heading.

Yesterday, Mom Hinck finally got to meet the Savior she served all her life - for 92 years - face to face. What a glorious meeting that must have been.

She touched so many lives - as a Lutheran school teacher, as a church organist, as the co-manager of a Christian bookstore, as a member of many boards and organizations, as a wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. She has been one of my dearest role-models of what a Christian woman can be.

In recent years, her memory became confused. Yet, her spirit was so firmly cast in a path of sweetness, that the sweetness still showed through. If there were times she was a little fuzzy on who I was, it didn't matter - she still opened her arms and welcomed me with a delighted smile.

I hope that my spirit can learn to be as firmly entrenched in a place of faith, trust, joy, and love as hers was, as I walk out my remaining years.

What a beautiful celebration she is enjoying today - in the presence of our Lord.

Friday, February 19, 2010


I am glued to the Olympics. So much so, that I create my own running commentary. "She caught too much air there. She needs to hold her line. He nailed his quad, but his musicality just isn't up to the other competitor."

My patient hubby shakes his head and says, "You should be a broadcaster."

Which makes me imagine what perspective a "mom-caster" would bring to sports commentary.

What would I say during the half-pipe?

"Jim, I wish he'd tighten that helmet a little more. That's a dangerous drop."

Or short-track speed skating?

"Korea is favored, strong team this year -- OOH, the Australian just cut in front. Where are her manners?"

Figure skating?

"Oh, his lace came untied. I told him a million times to check that before he goes out."

Ski jumping?

"I can't look. Tell me when it's over."

And of course for all the sports, and all who don't medal:

"It's okay, honey. You gave it your best. We'll always love you."

And that's pretty much how I feel about all the Olympians. Thanks for your passion, commitment, and sharing your talents with the world.

Gotta go. Biathlon is about to start and I need to remind the athletes not to point guns at people.

Mom-caster Sharon