Happy June!

Just dropping in for a quick update. First off, phew! *wipes forehead and reaches for the caffeine.* Who knew re-entering civilization after Covid would feel like the world’s to-do lists exploded? Ever since our state opened up, we’ve been slammed with parties, summer camp, event this, event that.

Have you been in Walmart? How many people can fit in one aisle? ALL of them, apparently!

But halleluiah through it all, because hugs and unmasked faces are worth it.

Right now, I’m working on my newest novel (Stars! Young adults! Mystery! A creepy attic!), while planning something different for the blog. It’s quite a challenge juggling it all with the day job and the family while we ask ourselves every day if we should pause the house hunting, or forge ahead (evidently, half the state of California is moving into AZ) while the housing market is ridiculously ridiculous (really, there are no other appropriate words).

In the meantime, Welcome to Velvet, AZ is free on kindle unlimited. If you like creepy, non-violent horror stories with a fantastical twist, this book is for you. Come one, how many Thanksgiving stories are there out there? Get yours here.

In the meantime, I’ve been thinking about how stories have shaped me–how they’ve changed the way I look at life, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve found as much truth in fiction as I’ve found in real life. Fiction might even be a little kinder.

Next month, I’m taking my first flight since Covid to meet the author who changed the way I look at the world. More on that later, but consider the books you’ve read and how they’ve shaped you. Feel free to share in the comments.

Harriet Tubman

I could almost feel the snow flakes lilting over the audience.
3D glasses and my favorite little girl made for a snapshot of wonder inside the theater when the world outside was living inside lines drawn by control freaks.
I was 5 again with Chloe and wanted nothing more than to stick out my tongue and catch a snowflake. I could see it, sense it, but a few hours later we were back outside dreaming of fantasies and legends left behind in the darkened room.

How soon we forget that we do live in a world of fantasy, but not how the dictionary defines it.

Fantasy: noun. The faculty or activity of imagining things that are impossible or improbable.

In comes my latest research read – a book on Harriet Tubman.

If your memories of history class are dulled by forgotten dates and blank spaces, take one day to know Harriet Tubman.
She was a slave, a hero, Moses and the stuff of legends.
Her story is absolute truth and full of events you now find only in fantasy books.

And the Bible. It’s amazing how we can read something so much that we forget the main point.

A vital part of The Underground Railroad, Harriet Tubman escorted approximately

Photo from Wikipedia

Wikipedia

300 slaves to freedom. Every time she journeyed to collect a new group of slaves she knowingly risked her life.

When she was a child, she received a blow to the head which caused narcolepsy. She would, without warning, fall into a deep sleep, unable to be awakened until her body said so.

Here’s where God turns tragedy into miracles.

When she was “out” she claimed that she had visions of places she had never seen before, but later came upon in real life. These places she would find when escorting people out of slavery – she recognized them from her dreams and would know where to lead her group to freedom.

How many times have I wished I knew which direction to go? Yep, a bold sign in 3D would be the ticket.

“Miracles only happen in the Bible.” How many times have we heard (or thought) this?

Well, Harriet Tubman came long after The Bible was written. A skeptic? Here is a good, free ebook on her life, along with plenty of documentation about her gifts: Get it here.

I think she saw the extraordinary for at least one reason – she dedicated her life entirely to following God’s voice. No worries about saving up for a comfortable retirement or an epic vacation – just walking each day with God. When she had a vision, an inkling, a prophetic dream, she didn’t rush to the mirror to find “crazy” in her eyes, or find the civil war version of Dr. Phil – she followed God’s instructions. Not her own American dream, but that of her brothers and sisters.

What a country this would be if we could flip our “Me” theme to a God theme. The story of others, brothers, sisters, the neighbors, our families, that tear – streaked face in the grocery line. We could put aside ourselves, discover our mission, and clearly see the God-sign say:“GO.”

Do you have your own miracle-story? Share it with us in the comments.