Showing posts from July, 2009

Off to the Conference!

By the time you’re reading this, my family and I will be on the road in our mini-van cluttered with suitcases and “necessities” for living away from home. You know how that goes. I thought I should let you know that I won’t be posting Monday, since I will be on the road back to home. But to tell you the truth, I have mixed feelings about the She Speaks conference. This will be my first ever writer’s conference. I’m super excited, yet a little scared and nervous just because I’m not quite sure what to expect.

When I first got the phone call from Proverbs31 Ministries, it seemed like the conference was forever away. Now it just snuck up on me and all of the sudden I’m heading down south for the experience of my life. I’m excited, and also a bit anxious. I have to find my way to many of my sessions on my own. What if I get lost? What if I don’t know anyone?

I studied Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby with my Youth Group this summer. One of the things Mr. Blackaby said in his book is, “A G…

Brochures, Pop, and Prayer

I wrote this in January of ’09 for a Christian Writer’s Guild assignment.

Go out on the streets and pray for people? That’s just not my thing. Walking up to a random person and saying, “Can I pray for you?” can prove to be, well, awkward. I made sure I teamed up with the most outgoing, people-loving person I could find. That way I wouldn’t have to do any talking. Holding a box of pop in one hand (or soda, as they call it here in Reading, Pennsylvania), and brochures that tell about who Christ is and how to accept him in the other, I roamed the sidewalks of the busy city, following my partner around. I had full intentions to be the one who handed out the pop along with the brochure and smiled, managing to escape every opportunity that involved speaking. So she prayed for a couple of people, and I did my job; and very well, I might add. Hey, it’s not easy handing out pop and brochures all day. I mean, you have to…to…okay, I’m lying, maybe it is easy. But I’d do anything not to talk to pe…

New Beginning

This is a short piece of writing I did when I was sitting out by the campfire:

The fire crackled and spit ashes to the sky, curling its orange and yellow fingers around the blackened logs, grabbing at their crispy white edges. Birds still sang their favorite tunes one last time before the sun made it’s way behind the trees below the mauve and crimson sky. A cool breeze slithered up Lacey’s jacket sleeves, and she shivered and hugged herself tighter. She scooted her chair closer and let the radiating heat warm her face. A new beginning. Underneath the new logs were grey coals, the sullen remains of old logs that used to be. Like a past that never went away. No matter how many more layers of logs try to cover it.

Another Monday

Beep, beep, beep!

Kendal groaned and threw a pillow over her head. She reached out her hand and searched for her alarm clock, whacking it when she found it. Another Monday.

Have you ever felt like Kendal? I know I have. Groaning as I roll out of bed, not wanting to go to school or work after a nice weekend of relaxation. Now I have to start yet another week.

A couple weeks ago, I attended the Mennonite Youth Convention in Columbus, Ohio. It was an awesome opportunity for young Mennonites to worship and learn together. Worship sessions were twice every day, along with a variety of various seminars to choose from. On the last day during the worship session, a speaker by the name of Greg Boyd said something that stuck with me. He said that every morning when he reluctantly rolls out of bed, he says, “God, this day is Yours. What do You want me to do today?” I thought about that for a while. How much less would I take for granted with that kind of attitude? Taking one day at a time to ask Go…

A Piece of Writing

Hi everyone. This is a shorter entry today, but it's one of my favorite pieces I've written. It belongs in a story. Hope you enjoy!

Zoe sighed and went around the counter, opening the back of the clear glass case under the countertop. She needed to head over to Mom’s house and get the boys soon. She would already be late picking them up. She took out the baked goods one by one and placed them in the cardboard take-out container in slow motion, hoping to give her mind time to sort her thoughts out. Zoe didn’t know what she thought anymore. She closed the box and went out to her car, locking Zoe’s Coffee Corner’s door behind her. She stole a glance at Lance’s apartment window, half-hoping he would be watching her like he did, just to make sure she made it out to the car safely. But the lights were off in his room and no one looked out the window softly smiling at her. Cold gusts of wind blew through the empty streets, picking up snowflakes and sending them swirling like a tornado…


I wrote this in January of ’09 for a Christian Writer’s Guild assignment.

(laying on sleeping bags in a bedroom in their PJs)

Girl 1: This youth group sleepover has been awesome!

Girl 2: I know; I want to stay up all night!

Girl 3: Come on guys, you know I need my beauty rest!

(Girl 1 rolls her eyes)

Girl 2: (scoffs) Whatever.

Erica: Hey, I have an idea: let’s talk about our crushes!

(Girls 1, 2 and 3 nod excitedly, Serena hugs her pillow and looks away)

Erica: Okay, I’ll start. I have a HUGE (draws the word out) crush on Bailey McBride. He is so hot!

Girl 1: Gosh, Erica, we already know that! Like, everybody knows that. But, anyway (lowers her voice) I have a crush on Johnny Childers.

(all girls except Serena and Dana: “oooooooo…”)

Girl 2: Oh my word, I have, like, a massive crush on David Turner!

Girl 3: (Whining) Hey, wait a minute! I have crush on him too!

Girl 2: No way, he’s mine!

Girl 3: No fair! I should at least have a chance with him!

(Girl 2 hits Girl 3 with a pillow and it starts a pillow…

O Poetry, How I Loathe Thee!

I wrote this in July of '08 for a Christian Writer's Guild assignment.

I lie on my bedroom floor with my hands on my head,
The thought of writing a poem makes me want to go to bed;
Sighing as I get up off the floor,
Day after day, I’ve come to dread this horrible chore;
I stare at the blank document on the computer screen

It’s almost time for my poem to be due,
What to write, I don’t have a clue;
O poetry, how I loathe thee!
It makes me want to flee
And go to a place where I don’t have to rhyme,
I feel like it’s wasting all my time!

This assignment is going to drive me crazy!
It’s not that I’m being lazy,
I just don’t know what to write,
I’ve been trying to think with all my might;
Sitting here like a bump on a log,
Wondering why my poem makes me work like dog.

King Solomon I will never be,
Because to me, a tree is a tree!
While I write this poem, I must be honest,
I’d rather be at the orthodontist!

Poetry is an ugly, hairy troll
Waiting to jump out and scare me,
I’m sure all this rhyming…


I wrote this in September of ’08 for a Christian Writer’s Guild assignment.

“Bye mom!” Shauna called as she grabbed the car keys and started out the door.

“Wait a minute, young lady,” Shauna’s mom caught her in the doorway, “Where do you think you’re going?” She arched her eyebrows giving Shauna that oh-so-familiar mother look.

“To Matt’s party,” Shauna answered.


“Yeah, you know; the tall, cute, blonde guy from school?” Shauna shifted and leaned against the doorframe. “He’s having like, food and games at his house and the whole school was invited.”

“Shauna, how well do you know this…Matt?”

“Well, he’s a junior, the same grade as me, and, well, he’s cute!” Shauna smiled and winked at her mom, then after getting another “look”, she reasoned, “Chill out mom, it’s not like anything is going to happen. Other kids will be there too. My friends will be there.”

“Will Matt’s parents be home?” Mom said.

Shauna rolled her eyes. “I don’t know!” She sighed loudly. “I need to get going or I’ll be la…

My First Publishing Success!

My thing is fiction. It's what I write best and it's what I love. So when my mom came up with the idea that I should enter a devotion writing contest for teen girls, I wasn't so sure. The prize for this contest was a scholarship to a writer's conference in North Carolina. Conference equals a lot of people and I'm a very introverted person. So I couldn't have cared less about this idea.
I also like photography. The picture you see on this post is mine. We have a garden of beans and they were just beginning to make their way through so I got out my camera and began to take pictures. As I played with the angles of my camera on the rows of beans, I spotted a tiny green stem pushing through the soil. I could just hear it grunting breathlessly as it tried to break through. "I know exactly how you feel," I whispered to the sprout. For my whole life I've been the quiet girl, trying to break though the hard, clumpy dirt. That night as I laid in bed, God ins…