Better Than Fiction Guest Post: Heather Day Gilbert
Today we have Heather Day Gilbert guest-posting on the love story in her own historical fiction novel, God’s Daughter. God’s Daughter is based on the life of Gudrid Thorbjarnardottir, the first European woman to have a baby on North American soil. Heather has creatively decided to write what Gudrid’s husband, Thorfinn (“Finn” in the book) Karlsefni, thinks of his courageous wife. The Words of Thorfinn Karlsefni, World-trader and Leader of the Viking expedition to the New Lands, Straumsfjord and Vinland...
read moreWhen “Seize the Day” means “Be Still and Wait”
I’m in a season of waiting. And what I’m being gently convicted of tonight is… If what lays before me is the task of waiting… then why not actually wait with all my heart? Not just endure it, not simply “put in my time”, but approach it with grace and eagerness to do what good I can here, glean what wisdom I can here, because I won’t be in this season forever and there’s a reason I’m in it now. (Whew! How’s that for a run-on?) Have you seen this quote? “If a man is called to be a...
read moreBetter Than Fiction
**Since I write historical romance, I thought it would be fun to feature true love stories from history here each week.** 8/9/2012 update: I had a thought. Historical Romance, as a genre, is not solely about the romance. I am expanding this series so that it is not limited to love stories. Love stories and ANY story that demonstrates God’s hand in a given situation will be considered for posting. If you have a neat tale in your family (or have come across a story in research) of how a couple met, a moment of sacrifice/valor/true love...
read moreA Beautiful mess
Or Grace It was to be a whimsical evening walk.Kind sky cooling the day’s oppressive heat, quiet in a patch of gardenny oasis,delight sprouting at discovering an alyssum-spiced corner of the world. Whimsical, you see.…and then there was me: Shirt splashed with coffee and debris from the day’s kitchen fiascos– because I’m graceful that way. Feet gritty from treading whimsical (yet dusty) trail in what my family has dubbed my “hiking shoes”…something along the lines of these: (Christened “Hiking...
read moreVacation… or Refuge?
Tonight I landed in a pocket of peace. Weary was I, bone tired, beat, drained, and what have you. I headed out to water the garden and as my whole being eased at the sound of water pouring into earth, I was tucked in. Swaddled by the evening—or rather, it’s Creator—in that moment. It was a pocket of peace, sewn from twilight sky and stolen moment and cool breeze… and my soul quieted. Isn’t He good? We don’t always need a vacation. Look at that word. VACATion. Vacate. We don’t always need to. Sometimes, most of the time...
read morePeace
I promise not to speak much today. In fact, I want to invite you to a quiet place- a quiet little corner of the clamoring world wide web, to taste and see that He is good, find refuge in Him. To Be Still. Awash with His peace. Remember last week, when I couldn’t figure out where the panic was? When I wondered why, when logically I should be losing it, I wasn’t? I figured it out. He whispered truth to me in a wondering moment. It’s Him. It’s His peace that passes understanding. Did you catch that? Passes...
read moreOne Step.
Have you seen the Skywalk? No? Oh. Well, have a look: {image source} {image source} {image source} {image source} The mind boggles. The stomach implodes. …And since my name is neither Luke nor Leia, I don’t even have the siren call of The Pun to coax me out on that there glass plank. (Get it? …”Skywalker”…) Look at those people hanging out, shooting the breeze, chatting like there’s not a giant chasm of nothingness below them. No big deal. Surely they don’t see what’s down...
read moreWoven Treasures
Fingers plucked and eyes pricked as I held a scrap of hemming lace and worked to loosen decades-old knots. Who knew that my self-of-yesteryear would toil to secure those knots, once-upon-a-time in that treasure-scrap, tying off a chunky braid in Samantha doll’s hair in a clumsy web of clumped lace… only to pack it up for storage some years later (College? Marriage? Moving? Who knows…), only to pull it out tonight to introduce Samantha to my real, live treasure girl. Who knew, when younger-version-of-me...
read moreReflections on Rain
Or, Rain(Reprise)…since I already posted about that favored form of condensation here. {Image Source} Last night, the air was laced with it, saturating the evening with peace long before a single drop fell. And then the sky let loose. The beat on the roof drew my gaze out a window, where no spectacular views awaited: just a parking lot, a nearby road, and cars whizzing by with headlights piloting through the dusk. But then the asphault began to dance with the splashing, joy in the cadence of something simple, solitary,...
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