Travel Mercies

 

My friend, author eMarie, https://www.merryheartink.com/, shares reasons for thanksgiving to God.

 

TRAVELING MERCIES

By Erma M. Ullrey

 

As we buckle into our seats, my hubby Bert prays before even starting the car. After two near collisions in the past two weeks, neither of us will go anywhere without asking the Lord for His divine protection. Here’s why:

 

We were driving home from our annual family retreat in Sunriver, OR, when our first near collision occurred. We’d spent five wonderful days playing games, sitting in a hot tub, taking long walks, and catching up while stuffing our faces. All of it our idea of a relaxing family time.

 

On the two-lane road that takes us home to Idaho, we listened to a favorite pastor’s sermon. The beautiful autumn leaves, the crisp air, and two hot coffees to-go always make the six-hour drive enjoyable.

 

About four hours into it, we began the descent from the steepest point of our drive. There isn’t a guard rail or much shoulder between us and a beautiful valley below.

 

“Oh, Lord,” we breathed. Coming up the hill from the opposite direction, a sedan decided to pass a semi-truck in front of it. At that moment, it was as though the Lord created a median. Our car passed within inches of that sedan.

 

Neither of us could ever recall passing so close as to see a driver’s eye color, hair style, or clothing. God performed a miracle that day, and we thank Him that His hand is never short, and always outstretched toward His children!

 

The next collision occurred one week later. We were on our way to a prayer meeting that began at 8:45 a.m. at our church. In typical fashion, I was running two minutes late. I announced, “We should’ve left the house at 8:30. It’s 8:32.” My long-suffering husband said nothing, dutifully started the car, and we were on our way.

 

I looked at the dashboard clock. 8:45. We had another two streets and two more 4-way stops before we’d arrive at church. “Lord, I promise to get up five minutes earlier next Sunday.” That was my prayer when I heard Bert say, “Oh, God.” Mind you, he never says, “Oh, God.” Gosh or goodness, yes. But he sincerely meant, Oh, God!

 

An SUV in front us had turned left at the intersection. A car from the opposite direction broadsided the SUV at full speed. That driver hadn’t seen his stop sign. The SUV hit one of the stop signs, preventing it from going into a ditch, and rolled over onto the other driver’s car.

 

By God’s grace, both drivers walked away from the accident! Bert helped the woman in the SUV, who had minor cuts and scrapes. The other driver’s airbag had deployed, and other than shock and sincere sorrow, he was fine. I called 9-1-1, and then directed traffic through the 4-way stop.

 

Yes, that SUV could’ve been us. But the moral of the story isn’t – Don’t be late for prayer meeting/church! It is, however, to pray and praise the Lord. Whether we feel or see it, He is always working for our good and for His glory. 

Books for Christmas Gifts?

If I Were You by Lynn Austin. The most detailed book of World War II I’ve ever read about people in England surviving the German bombings, both in London and in the country and villages. Two young women become volunteers to help with the war effort, then join the army and drive ambulances. Through all the hard times and sorrows, they struggle to find their faith in God and accept his and each other’s forgiveness.

 

Sworn To Protect by DiAnn Mills. This is a novel of suspense, a story which gives a careful look at border patrol and immigration law.

 

Gold Rush Prodigal by Brock and Bodie Thoene. From Hawaii to whale boating to prospecting for gold in California, this story introduces us to fascinating characters and adventure.

 

Hope Harbor by Irene Hannon. A heart-twanging story of a number of people who need God’s grace for themselves and to offer to others.

 

The Gift: a horse, a boy, and a miracle of love by Lauraine Snelling. A lovely Christmas story, including fun descriptions of training a small boy on care for and riding a horse, and hope for three hurting people.

 

They can't kill us all: Ferguson, Baltimore, and a new era in America's racial justice movement by Wesley Lowery. A journalist’s honest and heart-felt look at loss of life of Black people at the hands of police. Including the death of Michael Brown, an unarmed 18-year-old in Ferguson, Missouri; the death of a twelve-year-old boy with a toy gun in Cleveland; incidents in Charleston and Baltimore. Also looks at the church massacre in Charleston and vigilante killings of Black people. the protests that follow, fights with police, and how young people started new activist groups. Lowery asks the question, “What does the loss of any one life mean to the rest of the nation?” 

Guest Author, Angela D. Shelton

 Enjoy this interview with Angela D. Shelton. I want to visit her ranch.

 

Faith & Fellowship Book Festival announced The Angel Book Awards for 2022 on November 4^th and we’re pleased to interview Angela D. Shelton, author of the Collapse series. The first of the three books, Collapse, won second place in the middle grades/young adult category. Angela shares the story behind the series.

 

What made you want to write in the young adult, post-apocalyptic, Christian genre?

My parents raised me in a church that preached a LOT about end times. That left me with a fascination with post-apocalyptic tales, so writing one came naturally to me. Going through the teenage years was a painful experience for this shy gal and being a young adult has gotten more difficult every year. I can’t imagine how much more challenging teenage life is with social media running our lives. I hope my stories provide an escape and an encouragement when needed.

 

How does your everyday life show up in the novels?

Three years ago, my husband and I bought a ranch and started raising beef cattle. It’s been an adventure from day one. Working with animals provides plenty of fodder for stories. You’ll see a lot of what has happened to me in my stories. One example in my first book is where the heroine’s mother suffers from heat exhaustion. I’ve come so close to this frequently, especially when I’m determined to get a job done outside in the heat and work too long. 

 

How does your faith show up in your novels?

My goal has been to write stories with a lot of tension, but with a positive message in the end. Tension, or stress as it’s often called, is part of life. I want my narratives to reflect the realities that none of us are perfect, but that isn’t the end of the tale. The challenge is to share a positive message with lessons learned—without preaching. I think I’ve managed that in this series. That way, they make splendid gifts for young people, without the risk of coming off preachy yourself.

 

The three-book series is available on Amazon now.

After a global catastrophe wipes out millions and devastates global resources, three teens must navigate a new life.

In book one, Collapse, Jan learns the hard lesson deception serves up. She trusts the wrong person and brings even more hardship to her family. Can she rally behind the right people before the battle for their ranch begins?

In book two, The Death of Honor, Caleb’s haunted past comes back with a vengeance. He hides the truth from those he loves, making him the perfect target for blackmail. Will he confess before his family pays the price?

Book three, The Death of Independence, follows Olivia after her father abandons her. Stuck with incompetent relatives, she struggles to eke out a life for herself and them. When a man makes her an offer she can’t turn down, will he pull her into a life she never wanted?

The Collapse series is a young adult, post apocalyptical alternate reality by Angela D. Shelton. Explore these tales of survival in a shattered world.

 

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BKYPCM87 

Psalm 11, God Keeps Us in His Sight

Psalm 11

For the director of music. Of David.

In the Lord I take refuge.

    How then can you say to me:

    “Flee like a bird to your mountain.

For look, the wicked bend their bows;

    they set their arrows against the strings

to shoot from the shadows

    at the upright in heart.

When the foundations are being destroyed,

    what can the righteous do?”

The Lord is in his holy temple;

    the Lord is on his heavenly throne.

He observes everyone on earth;

    his eyes examine them.

The Lord examines the righteous,

    but the wicked, those who love violence,

    he hates with a passion.

On the wicked he will rain

    fiery coals and burning sulfur;

    a scorching wind will be their lot.

For the Lord is righteous,

    he loves justice;

    the upright will see his face.

 

Lord, David shared about times when he was not upright. But he begged for your forgiveness, and he excepted it. I want to be loved by you like David.

 

Father, we know you are just. You have told us what to do when the foundations of our world are being destroyed. Remember that you are on your throne, in charge, and you keep us, every one of us, in your sight. 

The Cattle Truck Miracle

My friend Author Sharon Connell (http://www.amazon.com/author/sharonkconnell) shared a travel miracle story.

 

Kathy, I have a travel story that involves my move from Des Plaines, IL to Pensacola, FL when I went to Bible school there.

My son and his wife traveled from Pensacola to Des Plaines to help me move. We loaded the cars with my daughter's bicycle mounted on top of Ron's vehicle (fortunately, he was an avid bicyclist at the time and had a rack). 

 

We took off in the wee hours of the morning, a fourteen to fifteen hour journey to Pensacola. I followed Ron's vehicle from the start. If I wanted to stop somewhere, I'd flash my lights and he'd pull off the road to see what I wanted. All went well as we traveled from Illinois, through Indiana, to Tennessee, until dusk. 

 

We'd been following a cattle trailer pulled by one of those heavy-duty pickup trucks for many miles. If I remember right, there were about six to eight head of cattle in the trailer. It was as if we were playing leapfrog. He'd pull around us, and a little while later, we'd pull around him. We stopped at the same place for lunch and dinner that the cattle hauling pickup did each time.

 

After our last stop, my vehicle started to act up. We were in the middle of the Smoky Mountains, up and down the rolling hills, when my engine began to lose power. I also lost the lights. Ron apparently was in a conversation with his wife and hadn't noticed our car falling behind, nor did he hear the weak horn when I blew it. I told my daughter, Heatherlyn, then ten years old, to start praying because we were never going to make it up the next hill.

 

I'd been watching the reflectors on my daughter's bike spin as Ron traveled ahead of us. Now the reflectors were barely seen as my headlights dimmed to almost nothing. There were no other cars around, and the truck with the cattle trailer had passed us and moved on a little while ago. I prayed that my son would notice we weren't behind him anymore, but I had no idea how he'd find us unless he got off the road, entered the other direction, and then retraced the journey. I also had no idea how long it would be, and it was getting dark.

 

As my car started up the last hill, I pulled off onto the shoulder, and the engine died. My daughter and I prayed and asked God for His help. I was at the point of tears, but didn't want to cry and scare Heatherlyn. When I lifted my head, I saw Ron's car, driving backward on the shoulder, coming over the rolling hilltop in front of us, bike pedal reflectors spinning like mad. Praise God!

 

After I told Ron what happened, he tried the starter on my car, and it started right up. Huh? Lights came on, and everything seemed normal. He got out of the car and said he had no idea what was wrong. I said, I didn't either. He suggested we get off the highway at the next exit so he could find some light and check the engine. We did that, but he still couldn't find anything wrong, and the car didn't slow down again or lose the lights.

 

We decided to proceed with our journey to Pensacola and trust God to get us there. Ron said he'd follow us for the rest of the journey, and we took off. 

 

About half an hour later, what little traffic had accumulated on the road since we reentered had stopped. When we neared, we saw the highway patrol blocking everything in both directions, and some of the officers trying to round up cows in the median strip. The truck and trailer we'd been playing leapfrog with earlier was also in the median strip, the trailer on its side. Apparently, the driver had swerved to miss something running across the road, and the trailer toppled over onto the median strip in the process. No one was hurt in the accident, and all the cows were uninjured. Another praise God.

 

Not only had God kept us from being involved, and possibly injured, in this accident by giving my car a hiccup, but He protected the driver and the animals. 

 

I'll never forget that night. I used this incident in one of the scenes in my very first published novel. Another blessing. And a miracle. 

Grace and Truth, To Be United with Christ, John 15:1-8

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

 

Of course, a branch lying on the ground, not connected to the vine, will bear no fruit. Yet, Jesus says that if we sign on to be in his vineyard, we can bear much fruit and give glory to God.

 

Some of these words may sound harsh, but Jesus’ deep desire is that we stay with him.

 

Lord, prune me so that I will be more effective for you. Thank you that you allow me to ask you whatever I want. 

Walking in New York City

After my family trip story last week, my friend Nina shared her and her husband’s recent trip with me.

 

Dave and I went to New York City for a few days. It had its glitches-

 

Dave was impatiently waiting in the taxi queue at JFK airport and I was on my phone when he suddenly said, “Quick, I got us an Uber!” And before I could say anything or ask questions, a man was loading my suitcase into the back of an SUV.  It was.... a fake Uber and it was quite the harrowing trip to our hotel.

 

Traffic was at a standstill so our driver pulled onto the shoulder and raced past everyone on his illegal lane.  Yikes.  I texted Dave- "We are in a FAKE UBER." Texted him NOT to pay by credit card, and that one should always, always use the Uber app.  Now we were in a stranger's car, illegally speeding towards Manhattan. It cost more than a cab, too. But, we survived.

 

We took a train from Grand Central Station one morning, up to Connecticut just so I could add one more state to my list.  Greenwich, CT is a pretty, tidy town but very, very wealthy.

 

How wealthy? Oh, we had a laugh later after we stopped into a second hand clothing store.  I wouldn't dare call it a thrift store because I picked up a used designer purse and looked at the little paper sales tag. $1559.  For a little pink purse. Gulp.  The gently used blouses started at $270.... and we said Good Day and walked quickly out of there!

 

We did get sandwiches for lunch and thankfully, those were not designer sandwiches, but it was a good fresh mozzarella and ripe tomato sandwich on crusty French bread.  Then we walked back to the train. I like that public transportation is so easy there- a train every 20 minutes back to the city.

 

I like to collect scents and smells and I'm glad my sense of smell is back. The smell of rain, of hot dogs and pretzels and the smell of horses and grass in Central Park. And often, the smell of weed.  It's legal and everywhere, more so than the occasional whiff of cigarette smoke on city streets.  I don't think we could go a block without the smell of pot coming from some corner or next to a shop or alleyway.

 

We got a lot of walking done, went to a few museums, and went to a musical- Six, about the six wives of Henry the eighth, told by six women in modern, diva pop style. Dave chose it and it was lively and fun and we were able to walk back to our hotel afterwards.

 

We were walking in the rain, single file, on the crowded sidewalk on the rainiest of Wednesdays when I had something odd happen. A man, coming in the opposite direction, grew frustrated by the slower people in front of him. He crossed to our side of the sidewalk and struck my umbrella as hard as he could, causing me to stumble.  Dave and I were stunned. Why would he do that? I wasn't in the way, wasn't stopped on the sidewalk. We chalked it up to him having personal problems and went on.  Then, on Friday, we were eating take out Cuban sandwiches at a little table on a sidewalk quite close to a city intersection. An older lady was getting ready to step out and across at the signal when a man came flying along on his bicycle in the wrong direction in the bike lane. The lady called out, "Hey, you almost hit me! You are going the wrong way!" And at hearing that, the man dismounted his bike, flung it down into the bike lane and stormed over to the woman. Swore and screamed at her. Spat on her. And then gave her a tremendous shove and stomped back to his bike. Bystanders and the woman and her husband were all stunned.

 

He rode off. The woman stared at him for a minute and continued on her way. Wow, I said to Dave, things could have been a lot worse for me.  Out of all the pleasant memories, the show, the walking to Grand Central Station, Central Park and the many thousands of perfectly decent people we passed and sometimes talked with, those two guys stick in my mind.  They are now part of the story of the trip, as much as the pilot in uniform who sat between us on the flight to New York, telling us wistfully that he was retiring at the end of the month, having reached the mandatory age limit for pilots.  I asked him what his favorite place to fly into was. “Aruba,” he said with a smile.