Archive for the ‘guest post’ Category





A Sleeping Sparrow


Not far from our house, I have a place I feed and watch the birds. Off to the side, near a tree, sits my photo fort. It’s really a hunting blind Jon bought me at Cabela’s, but the only shooting that gets done there is with my camera.

Once I’m settled inside, even before I get the windows unzipped and sit in my chair, the birds start to come in a flutter of wings, flashes of color, and a chorus of cheeps, peeps, and calls.




I watch them head in from deep in the woods and across the wildflower field and out of the pine trees nearby.




They’re getting used to me talking to them, praying out loud, singing, and even my breath vapor on the cold Minnesota air doesn’t scare them like it used to.

Not long ago, a friend asked me if I had a favorite bird. I couldn’t name one because they’re all my favorites.

But it’s the sparrows that get me singing.




When I was a teenager and had just placed my faith in Jesus, Mama told me that my great-grandmother’s favorite hymn was His Eye is on the Sparrow.

One day when I was home alone, I got one of the old hymnals out of the piano bench and played the melody with my right hand while singing along. I recognized the words right away because Grandma Joy and Mama sang the same song quietly while cleaning the house or playing that same piano.

I took those lyrics straight into my heart, and to me, it was our song, and even though they are in heaven, it still is.

Back when I was a teenager, I liked the words. Now, I love them. Especially on the days when doubts and discouragement yank at my spirit.

The other day, I was feeling low – there had been a terrible hurt and tears. And my heart was broken and lonely.

Then, this sparrow decided to snuggle in close to me. He listened to me talk to him for a moment, they snuggled down on the branch and went to sleep! When four juncos joined him and also went to sleep, I stayed very still not wanting to wake them up.

Where chaos had ruled, peace now reigned.




I watched them rest and pondered Matthew 10:29-31 (ESV)

“Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”

And I smiled. When I needed a blessing, God gave me a few peace-filled moments with a sleeping sparrow. What a sweet gift.

Don’t get me wrong – the circumstances hadn’t changed, but in that shadowy place, I was helped by God and reminded I am valuable.

And so are you! God said so, and we can take Him at His Word!

Doesn’t that truth do something to your heart?

Here are the words to this old favorite – if you don’t know the tune, just read the words out loud and let them encourage you.






Joy started reading when she was four and learned to write soon after. Words on the page fascinated and delighted her. By the time she was five, she was writing stories and dreaming about writing books for other kids.

One day while vacuuming, an idea for a novel came to mind. She resisted diligently, but the characters in Rain Dance wouldn’t leave her alone. Finally, the only way to get past their nagging, she wrote the book.

Joy married the love of her life almost forty years ago. She and Jon love their dog kids, Sophie & Tucker – a brother and sister team who stole their hearts. There’s a story behind their names, but that’s a blog post.

Joy loves Jesus and came to faith in Him when she was fifteen years old. When she’s not working she’s riding her John Deere Gator taking pictures on the 15 or so acres of wildflowers on the land she and Jon live on. Joy relaxes by taking pictures of the beauty that surrounds her. If the Oak Ridge Boys, Chris Tomlin, Johnny Cash, Donny Osmond, Toby Mac, or Nicole C. Mullen sings, she listens to it. Dragonflies, flowers, raccoons, fog, frogs, bugs (outside), and the wind fascinate her.


 You can find Joy at:











#Blogwords, New Week New Fact, #NWNF, Guest Post, Joy DeKok, A Sleeping Sparrow, His Eye is on the Sparrow

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This is For the Birds


I’m a phrase guy. I like to know how we as humans come up with certain phrases that permeate our conversations. Where did they originate? Why were they coined the way they were?


One such phrase is: “This is for the birds!” Ever heard it before? Ever used it? Ever added specifics to it, like “This whole day is for the birds!” or “Politicians are for the birds!” In each case, the phrase connotes a uselessness or worthlessness to whatever is “for the birds.” So, how did a reference to giving or leaving something to birds ever become a negative statement?


Although no one can pinpoint a specific reference, general belief links the phrase back to the days of horse and buggies. When that mode of transportation lined the streets on notable cities like London or New York, it was a common need for pedestrians to “look before you step.” The “calling cards” of the equine conveyance made crossing the street a lively affair, no doubt. As an added bonus to the hustle and bustle of city life, apparently, in the droppings, undigested food—namely oats—became the draw for many an English sparrow. It does make me wonder why nary a raven could have been found and interviewed (maybe even quoted).


This concept of “leaving behind worthless things for the birds” is not a recent or modern phrase, however. It actually finds its roots in scripture. In Isaiah 18:4-6 (NIV), the prophet wrote, “This is what the Lord says to me: ‘I will remain quiet and will look on from my dwelling place, like shimmering heat in the sunshine, like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.’ For, before the harvest, when the blossom is gone and the flower becomes a ripening grape, he will cut off the shoots with pruning knives, and cut down and take away the spreading branches. They will all be left to the mountain birds of prey and to the wild animals; the birds will feed on them all summer, the wild animals all winter.” Notice how the fruit—which is normally harvested BEFORE the pruning takes place—will be left on the vine as the spreading branches and shoots are cut off, left for birds and wild animals to consume.


In Jeremiah 16:4 (NIV), the Lord says, “They will die of deadly diseases. They will not be mourned or buried but will be like dung lying on the ground. They will perish by sword and famine, and their dead bodies will become food for the birds and the wild animals.” In this reference—which is a reference to judgement—those accursed by God will be left “like dung” (Hmmm…where have we heard that before?) for the birds and wild animals to consume.


It seems this concept of leaving behind something worthless, unworthy of consumption or use by man or God, even accursed of God, to rot and be eaten by birds is a very old saying. Much older than the pre-industrial revolution. Yet, this concept of leaving things “for the birds” is also rooted in love, believe it or not.


Jesus said in Matthew 6:26-33 (NKJV), Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”


When you are a bird, you can’t sow. I’ve heard of turkey farmers, and chicken farmers, but I’ve never met a turkey or chicken that farmed. They only “get farmed.”


When you are a bird, you can’t reap or store anything, either. Oh, you can build a nest and “store” some eggs until they hatch, but that’s different. When it comes to food, you’re dependent on what falls to the ground from a tree or bush, what teems in a river, lake, or ocean, or what may slither or crawl on the earth. But at no time did you ever have a hand in producing those food sources. God did.


So, it begs the question. If God had not designed His creation like He did, what would have become of the English sparrow, the raven, and the mountain birds of prey since they can’t sow, reap, or store away in barns? I think you know the answer. The trees would be a lot quieter. The skies would be less populated. And the love of God would have been questioned infinitely more than it already is by a world stained by sin.


Yet, even though these creatures seem to be less in stature than Man (Are you not of more value than they?), God doesn’t abandon them. He cares about everything. Everyone. And even though Man was His crowning creation (cf. Gen. 1:26-27), it doesn’t mean every other thing He did create is “on its own” like the theists believe. He loves the lowest of the low, the highest of the high, and everything and everyone in between. That’s how it is when you so loved the world, that you gave your one and only son, that whosoever believes in him will not perish, but have eternal life (cf. John 3:16).






  1. KEVIN THOMPSON is an ordained minister with a B.A. In Bible (Houghton College, Houghton, NY), an M.A. in Christian Studies (Wesley Biblical Seminary, Jackson, MS), and an M.Ed. in Educational Leadership (National-Louis University, Wheeling, IL). His book, 30 Days Hath Revenge – A Blake Meyer Thriller: Book 1, is now available! Book 2 of the Blake Meyer Series, Triple Time, will be available for pre-order in late February 2017. The Serpent’s Grasp, a standalone, is coming May 2017. Book 3 of the Blake Meyer Series, The Tide of Times, is coming August 2017.







Goodreads: C. Kevin Thompson




#Blogwords, New Week New Fact, #NWNF, Guest Post, C. Kevin Thompson, This is for the Birds, 30 Days Hath Revenge

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Genesis 1:20 says this about God’s creation. I love how this passage describes where the birds fly. And God said, “Let the waters bring forth swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth across the dome of the sky.”


God’s creation is remarkable, and birds are amazing. There are so many different kinds. I’ve lived in eleven different states in the USA, and each place has its own unique birds. I’m going to share just a few with you.


This is a photo that I took of a raven in the Petrified Forest National Park, located in northern Arizona. Ravens are one of the most common birds seen in the stark landscape of the Petrified Forest.




Here’s just a sample of the landscape in the Petrified Forest.





The picture below was taken after a tropical storm in Florida. The flooded area is part of a golf course, and the birds are great egrets.




Sometimes the best way to see different birds is at the zoo. Here are two parrots with magnificent coloring.




I think hummingbirds are my favorite bird, and I see them often where I live in the Arizona desert.




Sea gulls are a common scene on most beaches, and I saw them on my daily walks when we lived in Florida.




Have you ever encountered a wild turkey? I snapped this photo while we were visiting friends in Ohio.




Quail are a common site in this area of Arizona.




There are all kinds of fascinating birds in the world, many of which, I can’t identify, but they a fun to watch. I have a bird feeder in my yard, and surprisingly, the birds are very polite as they take their turn at the feeder.




And maybe, when it comes to birds, all you need is a stuffed pink flamingo, like my granddaughter when she was three.




What is your favorite kind of bird?




Merrillee Whren is a USA Today bestselling and award-winning author who writes inspirational romance. She is the winner of the 2003 Golden Heart Award for best inspirational romance manuscript presented by Romance Writers of America. She has also been the recipient of the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award and Inspirational Reader’s Choice Award. She is married to her own personal hero, her husband of forty plus years, and has two grown daughters. She has lived in Atlanta, Boston, Dallas, Chicago and Florida but now makes her home in the Arizona desert. When she’s not writing, she spends her free time playing tennis or walking while she does the plotting for her novels. Please visit her Web site at http://www.merrilleewhren.com or connect with her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/MerrilleeWhren.Author. You can also sign up for her newsletter here.







#Blogwords, New Week New Fact, #NWNG, Guest Post, Merrillee Whren, Front Porch Promises, A place to Call Home, A Love to Call Mine, A Family to Call Ours, A song to Call Ours

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Broken Wings


This is a year of new beginnings and divine reset.


“Behold, the former things have come to pass, Now I declare new things; Before they spring forth I proclaim them to you.” Isaiah 42:9


It hurts sometimes when our wings are broken by those we love. A friend sent me a picture of a church sign that read “ Don’t break a bird’s wings and then tell it to fly.”




The Lord declared to me that this is the season where He will place His loving balm on those who are broken. Even God’s own children have been wounded. Some were wounded by the church. It cuts deep when you are wounded by someone that you are supposed to be able to trust. You may have had someone hurt you. You may have lost a loved one. You may be numb from the life events that have come your way. God longs to heal your pain. God has taught me that He will gently lead me back to the painful events from my life in His timing to heal me, allow me to release forgiveness, and set me free! This season you will begin to feel new freedom in your situations. Where you were once numb, you will slowly start to feel again!


There is something interesting about those who have had broken wings. They feel deep compassion for others. They feel compassion that they might not have felt, had they not gone through their trial. God is going to use what you have been through so you can help others who have to walk in your shoes. You can turn the hard times into something beautiful as you help someone else.


I had a vision that I was fishing and the fish I caught were very slimy. The Lord told me, “the people you are about to share my love with are going to look messy but do not throw them back.” The Lord is doing a new thing. It will look different. We can’t have an old wineskin for what God is about to do. We have to be open to the new thing He is doing. I think sometimes we get comfortable with what we are familiar with, especially in the church. God is looking for people who will step out of their familiar comfort zone. He’s looking for “good samaritan” hearts, people who will stop and help someone in need and not pass them by. He’s looking for those who will do these things without the need for praise from others. He’s giving those who are willing a divine reset to learn to walk in the Spirit. One of the things that has truly helped me walk in the Spirit right now is to block negative media voices. I only read and listen to things that will uplift my spirit. With social media there are so many sources of information trying to bombard us. We can take what is available to us and use positive resources to encourage us. This has been a huge key to victory for me. I personally enjoy Charisma Magazine and Elijah List. I pray you have an amazing year!





lori-grannissLori Granniss is the author of Now is the Time to Walk in the Spirit and a freelance religious and math curriculum writer. She is also a small business owner of  Blitz Card Fundraising. She writes on the blog Inspire Hope Magazine. She lives in Shelby, North Carolina with her husband and two sons.




Instagram is @bargainshopperlady




#Blogwords, New Week New Face, #NWNG, Guest Post, Lori Granniss, Broken Wings

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Welcome to my FIRST EVER New Week New Face Feature, with my friend, Amy McNew! Welcome Amy! (repost)

nwnf banner - amy


Breath and Life

slide 1


Thank you so much, Robin, for having me on your blog today! I’m excited to be here and have the chance to speak to new people, and hopefully meet some new friends.

For those who don’t know, I’m the fighter chick. The books I write are speculative in nature, bridging the gap between fantasy and reality. They are all about love and war spanning the realms. On my blog, I discuss war, both spiritual and physical. I talk about those demons we all face, and strive to offer hope in fighting them. I talk about causes that are important to me. I am honest. I am real. Sometimes brutally so. I lay my guts on the page, putting all of me into every post and revealing those parts of myself that can be difficult to uncover. In doing so, I hope that I encourage others to lay themselves open, get real, and above all, understand that they are not alone in their struggles.

Today, I offer you a part of myself. My hope is that you will see there is peace to be had, even in the darkest battles.

Yes, peace.

That’s my word for this week.

I know many of you will probably find that a bit odd, considering I’m the woman that’s always yelling fight! Fight! Fight! But even the fiercest warrior has to have a season of peace. Of rest. Of rejuvenation.

I realized yesterday that it is past time for my season of peace. I’ve been running myself ragged, and haven’t taken the time to reset, to restore my spirit. So today, I’m reminding myself of ways I find peace and rest, and get you to think about the things that breathe fresh air into your life.

There are so many people, places, and things that I find sanctuary in. That are my breath and life. I want to share some of them with you today, in no particular order.

Above is a picture of the White River in Northern Arkansas, not far from where I grew up. This place will always hold a piece of my heart. The smell of pine, the rivers and lake I grew up around, the quiet, being surrounded by nature. When I was younger, all I wanted was to get out of that backwater and see the big world. Now, I return as often as I can, which is not often enough.


slide 2

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These are a few of the crazy people in my life. While often they drive me absolutely batty, each one has at one time or another spoken love into my heart and breathed life back into me when I was fading. For all our ups and downs, we are family and I love these people.


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Music. Music is what motivates me. It’s what powers me. I have been a musician and music lover all my life. I find solace in melody, comfort in rhythm. My life has a soundtrack and I wouldn’t want it any other way.


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Martial arts have been a part of my life for 20 years. Though I no longer compete due to health issues, I can still spar lightly, let loose on the bag, work through my forms, and train as hard as always. Even if it’s just me running through a form (think Tai Chi) all by my lonesome, I get a rush. I am centered. I am focused. For that moment, I am powerful.


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I would be remiss if I failed to mention my greatest Source of peace. I’ve been involved with church pretty much my whole life. But only in the past several years have I come to have a true, honest, no holds barred relationship with my God, and not just hold to a religion. In opening myself up like that, having faith, I have found peace that is beyond description.

I’ve been in some utterly dark and wretched places, spiritually and physically. Places and situations I thought there was no way out of. Many times I’ve felt that there was nothing but chaos around me, and I had no light to see by, nothing to hold on to. Then I really met my Savior. Once I surrendered, turning everything over to Him without holding back, even in my darkest times I’ve felt Him. He holds me. He comforts me. He whispers to me, letting me know I’m never alone. I’m never without light, even if I have to squint to see it. He infuses me with peace exactly when I need it most.

If you have yet to find that for yourself, I challenge you to reach out to Him. You have nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Now that I’ve laid a little bit more of my guts on the page, how about you? What gives you peace? How do you find rest? Is there a place or person you run to when you need your spirit replenished, when you need to get away from it all, or you just need to be reminded who you are and rediscover your dreams? Share with us! Maybe someone reading this needs some ideas for getting a little fresh air in their lungs. Remember, we’re in this fight together.

On my own blog, I always have a song that follows my post. The melody I’m sharing with you today is an instrumental I find relaxing and soothing. I hope you enjoy it as well.

Thank you again for letting me share with you today.

Fight on friends, victory is ours.



Meet Amy Brock McNew. Author. Blogger. Fighter.

Former nurse and martial artist.

Amy doesn’t just write speculative fiction, she lives and breathes it. She enthusiastically explores the strange, the supernatural, and the wonderfully weird. She pours her guts onto the pages she writes, honestly and brutally revealing herself in the process. Nothing is off limits. Her favorite question is “what if?” and she believes fiction can be truer than our sheltered and controlled realities.

This wife and mom is a lover of music, chocolate, the beach, and cherry vanilla Coke. Her home is a zoo, filled with teenagers–both hers and those she seems to collect–two dogs, a cat, and various fish and amphibians. Strangely enough, her kids are the ones who have to tell her to turn the music down.

It is her firm belief that everyone should have a theme song.


You can find Amy at:

Facebook: Facebook.com/AmyBrockMcNewauthor

Twitter: twitter.com/amybrockmcnew

Website: www.AmyBrockMcNew.com





#amymcnew, #newweeknewface, #NWNF, #authorbloggerfighter, #specfiction, #peace



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Freedom. A true lady in Defiance cries out for it. Refuses to live without it. Pursues it at any cost. Society, propriety—even commonsense won’t stop her from wrapping her slender fingers around it. In the end, she may only have her memories of it, but at least she tasted it. For a time, she lived free.


And it is that refusal to live without living that draws me to writing strong female leads in my books. Now, I write Christian fiction, but I study history with passion and have stumbled upon some fearless women. Though I have pity that they did not in most cases know the Lord, I have to admit to a scandalous admiration for their lust for life.


One of my favorite ladies was one they called Queen of the Klondike.


Kathleen Eloise Rockwell (1873, give or take, to1957) came from an unstable home, growing up in at least four different states. Perhaps the shifting sand beneath her feet contributed to her headstrong ways and desire for adventure. Dubbed a tomboy by the neighborhood kids, Katie played better with the boys than with the frilly little girls. She was a bit sassy and, arguably, incorrigible—at least according to the boarding school that kicked her out.




In the early1890’s, Kate’s mother divorced her father and the two girls wound up in New York City. The young girl got involved with the theater scene and learned to sing and dance, but eventually even the Big Apple wasn’t big enough for the free spirit. The siren call of the Alaska Gold Rush reached her ears and Kate headed off for Alaska.


The Royal Canadian Mounted Police, however, denied her entry. Because she was a woman. Alone. On the frontier. Think, McFly. Think.


Can’t you hear the wheels turning in her head? Kate lived to circumvent rules and create her life on her terms.


So she dressed up like a boy and waltzed right into the Klondike. (Well, actually she took a boat.) I can see her waving at the RCMP as she sailed by.


Now, it’s one thing to try to make it on the Great White Way. Lots of competition and all that. Kate had a suspicion that in Alaska she could be a big fish in a little pond. I mean, really, how many pretty girls could there be willing to face the wild frontier? Sub-zero temperatures, knee-deep spring mud, lawless towns. Sounded like her kind of party. Kate just wanted to sing and dance. It didn’t matter if the audience was comprised of desperately hungry, cold, mud-encrusted miners who hadn’t seen a woman, much less a pretty one, in months.


She intended to mesmerize them and had a grand plan. For her “Flame Dance” she came on stage wearing an elaborate gown covered in red sequins and trailing an enormous cape. She took off the cape to reveal a cane that was attached to more than 200 yards of red chiffon. Kate leaped and twirled with the shimmering, floating fabric, spellbinding the hapless men. At the end she would dramatically drop to the floor, as did the men’s jaws.


Yeah. She was a big hit. For three years, she was the belle of the ball. Parisian gowns, gold jewelry, men falling at her feet. They called her Klondike Kate and Queen of the Yukon.


But the gold eventually petered out and Kate drifted around, with a few different husbands. She owned some theaters in the Pacific Northwest, swindled some miners, got swindled by a husband. She made some special appearances in the 1930’s, and even coached starlets in the 40’s. She homesteaded in Oregon and kept the place till her death. Early on, she was often spotted working the place in her sparkling evening gowns. I suspect that was because she didn’t own any work clothes, not because she was showy. She was also recovering from a broken relationship so maybe the glitz and glam had worn off and she didn’t give a fig about her designer-dresses-straight from-Paris.




Either way, in the little town of Bend, Oregon Kate became a valued, appreciated member of the community due to her generous, civic-minded heart and undying audacious spirit. In her later years, she earned the nickname Aunt Kate. Doesn’t quite have the ring of Klondike Kate, but I don’t think she minded.


Time and age catch us all, though. Kate slowed down then finally finished the ride in Oregon in 1957.


By no means an angel, Kate was a woman who defied conventionality, shook her fist at the lack of social mobility for women, and cut her own path through life. You have to kind of admire that. She didn’t let life happen to her. She happened to it! With a vengeance.


While she was a tad over the top, I appreciate her character arc. She went from young and hungry for success at any cost to redefining her idea of success. I know it reads like a sweet romance, but she found happiness in a small town. Even better, she married a miner who had fallen in love with her back when she was still Klondike Kate. It took her a long time to come round to him. But better late than never.




A former journalist, Heather is an avid researcher and skillfully weaves truth in among fictional story lines. She loves exploring the American West, especially ghost towns and museums. She has walked parts of the Oregon Trail, ridden horses through the Rockies, climbed to the top of Independence Rock, and even held an outlaw’s note in her hand. You can learn more about her and her work at https://ladiesindefiance.com/ or https://www.facebook.com/heatherfreyblanton. Sign up for Heather’s email newsletter to receive the latest book release updates, as well as info about contests and giveaways


She writes Westerns because she grew up on a steady diet of Bonanza, Gunsmoke, and John Wayne movies. Her most fond childhood memory is of sitting next to her father, munching on popcorn, and watching Lucas McCain unload that Winchester!

She can be reached several different ways:









#Blogwords, New Week New Fact, #NWNG, Guest Post, Heather Blanton, Klondike Kate, Queen of the Klondike

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New Beginnings

There’s something about winter that calms me, refreshes my spirit, rejuvenates my will. It’s probably the cold weather, something I am particular towards. It’s probably the fact that winter is the fourth month, marking the end of another year – and the subsequent start of a new one. During the winter, I tend to wind down, take stock of the year prior and get ready for the year ahead. It’s usually a season of rest and preparation.


For many, 2016 seemed to be a year of frustration and fear. Between the volatile political atmosphere, the number of celebrity deaths, and the horrific international terrorism, it was a year many of us would like to forget.


For me though, 2016 was challenging on a different level, as it brought a lot of life adjustments for me in the form of my wife’s new job, my son starting Kindergarten, and the publishing business ramping up. I came to the end of 2016 a bit out of breath. Not defeated, but tired and worn.


And so we’re here in winter, and I have already felt the calmness that comes with the Christmas season and a fresh, brand new year full of opportunity and hope.


But I don’t just sense calm or rejuvenation this season. I sense newness. Beginning. A reset, if you will.


We all need a reset from time to time. Something – or someone – to shake our branches and wake us from our slumbering and complacency. On our way to greatness, we inevitably fall upon detours that take us to places we never meant to go. We get comfortable in the dead-end job, we continually flirt with the toxic relationship, we constantly refuse to push ourselves to the next level because we’re comfortable where we’re at.




We create resolutions to help counter this, thinking that if we add another task to accomplish in the New Year that we’ll feel better about the New Year. But the source of our issue isn’t task accomplishment.


No – we must recognize that at some point, we settled for less.


Settling isn’t always bad. What really matters is how long you settle. Are you settling to take a break, or are you settling because you don’t want to move to the next step? Did you settle years ago, or are you just taking a breather before the next big climb?


We all need something to shake us from our settlements every now and then. Sometimes it can come in the form of a person who speaks truth into our life. Sometimes, it can come in the form of a circumstance or situation that pushes us so hard that we have no choice but to move or change. Other times, God pushes us out of our nest and calls us to fly – even though the flying may be what we fear the most.


Sometimes it can come in the form of a New Year, a new beginning.


When a computer’s operating system is stuck – when the programming gets hung up on something – we restart the computer. Most times that solves the problem. And I think it’s the same in life. We all need a reset, a new beginning.


New beginnings should not be confused with starting over completely. New beginnings are simply new chapters, new seasons, the start of something new, something fresh, something fulfilling. [rem: I really like this.]


But also something challenging, something tough, something rewarding. Some of those things tend to scare us away from moving forward, but we shouldn’t let them. They are proof we are making progress, moving forward, stepping out.




2017 is here. I am glad for this. This New Year is a new beginning. A fresh restart, a recalibration of the path I am called to journey upon. The publishing company is ramping up with a slew of new projects. My writing pen has been seeking new stories for years now. And I sense 2017 has some great things in store for all of us.


Let’s embrace the new beginnings together. Let’s make 2017 the best we can!




DAVID N. ALDERMAN is the founder of The Crossover Alliance. He is author of more than a half dozen books, and participates in National Novel Writing Month each year. When he’s not writing or spending time with family, you can find David racking up his achievement score on his Xbox One or killing opponents in a game of Half Life 2: Deathmatch on Steam.














Link to Black Earth: End of the Innocencewww.thecrossoveralliance.com/black-earth-end-of-the-innocence




#Blogwords, New Week New Fact, #NWNF, Guest Post, David Alderman, New Beginnings, Science Fiction, Fantasy, Black Earth, Endangered Memories, Lost Birth, Of Dreams and Faith



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Articles, Interviews, and Book Reviews by Danele Rotharmel the Author of The Time Counselor Chronicles

Kathryn Spurgeon

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Cooking without Limits

Food Photography & Recipes

Writer's Cramps

musings, rants, and updates from author L. S. King


Reflections on Reading

J.L. Mbewe

Adventures that burn on in the heart.

Anonymously Autistic

#ActuallyAutistic - An Aspie obsessed with writing. This site is intend to inspire through sharing stories & experiences. The opinions of the writers are their own. I am just an Autistic woman - NOT a medical professional.

Edwardian Promenade

Your #1 source for Edwardian history!

Redwood's Medical Edge

Medical Fact for your Fiction

Midleton with 1 'd'

East Cork and Irish History, Ancestry and Heritage

The Bean of Life

A Story of Love and Coffee