My Angel Incident

“Do you believe in angels?” a writer friend asked me. I must admit, I’ve never sensed the presence of a guardian angel, but I think that’s because I always have an awareness of the Holy Spirit’s presence. However, this question reminded me of an incident from a few years ago. Well, it was before cell phones, so I guess you’d say it was more than a few years ago, but it inspired two scenes in my novel, I Want to Go Home. 

 

I had just left a rehearsal in Newport News. It was around 9:00 pm, and as I entered Denbigh Boulevard, I saw that a heavy fog had rolled in. Since I had to drive to Williamsburg, I decided to pull into the empty parking lot of what was then Montgomery Ward and wait for the fog to lift. Big mistake. My husband was out of town on business, and our teenagers were home alone. I sat in my car for about twenty minutes but realized the fog wasn’t clearing up. If I’m not home by 10:00, the kids will worry. If I don’t call Carl by 10:00, he’ll worry. I had no choice but to start out and hope the interstate was clear. 

I twisted the ignition key, only to hear the sickening “ruhr, ruhr” that no driver wants to hear, especially at 9:30 on a foggy night. Of course, I tried several times, growing more anxious with each “ruhr.” All the stores were closed, the nearest service station was several blocks away, and I had no way of calling anyone to help me, no way to let my husband or kids know what was happening. 

I wanted to cry, but instead, I prayed. “Okay, God, I’m desperate here. I need your help. Please send someone to rescue me. In the name of Jesus, I thank you. Amen.”

For a while, nothing changed. I felt alone, frightened, and vulnerable, but I knew from past experiences with prayer that I could place my trust in God. I repeated my prayer just in case He hadn’t heard me the first time. After all, God has to deal with wars, natural disasters, and hungry children. There are grieving families, cancer sufferers, and pastors whose prayer concerns are far more important than my dead battery.

Then, as I glanced in my rearview mirror, I spotted headlights approaching from behind. “Thank you, Jesus!” I whispered. There was no doubt in my mind that God had sent someone to help me. I wasn’t afraid to step out of the car and greet a stranger. Rather, I felt total peace. 

A middle-aged man approached. “Looks like you might need some help,” he said.

“Yes, my battery’s dead. Thank you so much for stopping.”

“No problem. Do you have jumper cables?”

“I do.” I retrieved them from the trunk, and he connected them at both ends.

“Okay, start ’er up.” I slid into the driver’s seat, and as I turned the key, I heard the most beautiful sound since the first cries of my newborn babies!”  

“All set,” he said, handing me the cables. “That should get you home.”

“I’m so grateful! You just don’t know…” I gushed as I returned the cables to my trunk, fully intending to offer the man some money or at least get his name and shake his hand, but when I shut the trunk and turned, he and his car were gone. Vanished! 

Please check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/ 

There you'll find a FREE book just for visiting. Someone in your life might need its offer of hope and healing.

Don't Read My Books

When I write a book, whether fiction or nonfiction, it ends up connecting to some aspect of life that touches readers’ deepest emotions. I don't do it intentionally; it just happens.

The older I become, the more I realize I am an ultra-sensitive person. Whether my own emotions or someone else's, I feel them intensely; I always have. I suppose that’s why my novels deal with emotionally charged social issues like domestic abuse and homelessness. It’s also why some people hesitate to read them, especially The Dark Room. Either they’re afraid my stories will trigger unpleasant memories from their own lives or they prefer to deny that such conditions exist. Of course, it’s easier to not feel pain, and my novels have the potential of triggering pain. But, more importantly, my writing promotes hope, help and healing and my novels always have happy endings. Those aspects of my writing are intentional. 

When one is in the throes of such misery as domestic violence, it’s important for someone to care enough to offer hope. Without hope, our spirits die. Without someone to offer friendship and real help, there is no hope. In order to provide hope and help to anyone, we must first be moved by the pain of others. 

A reader once told me, “I only read happy books; I don’t like feeling sad.” I didn’t argue with her because I knew it would be pointless. I didn’t tell her that I don’t like to feel sad, either, but that without compassion for other peoples’ pain, our days are meaningless and purposeless. We become like the flower children of the sixties, la-di-dah-ing our way through life and perhaps even turning to addictive behaviors to keep ourselves from feeling.

The intensity of my emotions used to embarrass me, but I have learned to embrace my sensitivity and turn it into compassion. When I read a novel, I want it to move me. When I write a novel, I want it to move the reader. 

So, if you don’t like being affected viscerally by a book, don’t read Unrevealed, The Dark Room, I Want to Go Home or After Rain. However, If you have been courageous enough to read one of my books, please post a review on Amazon. It’s quick and painless. I promise.

Please check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/ There you'll find a FREE book just for visiting. Someone in your life might need its offer of hope and healing.

How do writers work?

Before I became an author, I often wondered how writers worked. I pondered what a typical day might look like in an author’s life. Surely they are all disciplined, carving out eight uninterrupted hours a day for penning a novel, magazine article, or whatever project is looming.   

Now that I’m a published author, I realize there’s no such thing as a writer’s typical day. I’d like to say that I write every day, but there are times when other responsibilities take precedence; and, while I tend to be more productive in the morning after a good night’s sleep, my teaching schedule dictates that many mornings are unavailable. Often I must catch an hour here or a half hour there. 

So, if I had nothing else to do--no lesson plans, laundry, grading, cleaning, practicing, doctor’s appointments, phone calls, meetings, etc, here’s what an ideal day would look like:

• Arise at 5:30 am

• Proceed straight to coffee maker--robe and slippers optional--and stretch while waiting for the Keurig to warm up and produce that first medicinal cup of Starbucks Breakfast Blend 

• Carry mug of hot, strong brew to sunroom, settle in recliner, snuggle under favorite flannel throw and sip adoringly 

• Refill coffee mug

• Open laptop and write for an hour

• Eat breakfast

• Write until lunchtime

• Eat lunch

• Write until dinnertime

• Eat dinner

• Write until bedtime

• Go to bed

• Start again tomorrow

Did I leave out anything? Oh yes, I forgot to get dressed or brush my teeth or do housework or laundry or exercise or interact with other humans. Somehow, it sounded better in my head.

Check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/    

Standing on God's Promises

Have you noticed that when we are sick or grieving or afraid, it’s difficult to see beyond those limitations? When life is less than perfect, it’s challenging to focus on the positive aspects, to notice God’s blessings or even acknowledge God’s presence. Like a magnet, our attention is drawn to where we are hurting. Our pain, whether physical or emotional, distracts us from all that is still good in our lives. We just want the pain to stop. We may decide subconsciously that until we feel better, we cannot experience wholeness or happiness or fulfillment, so we put living on hold.  

The truth about pain, however, is that the more attention we give it, the more intense it becomes and the more self-involved we become. It’s like trying to reason with a toddler who is having a temper tantrum. Every parent learns that giving the child attention during a meltdown is just adding fuel to the fire. 

Both my husband and I have experienced illness this summer. At times it has seemed overwhelming. Fortunately, he has recovered fully, but I have yet to receive a diagnosis and treatment plan. It’s frustrating and inconvenient. I confess to sometimes questioning God’s purpose. I confess to sometimes feeling like my life has been placed on hold...like I can’t live fully until my health issue is resolved. Any unresolved issue, whether relationship, career, financial, etc. can trigger a similar reaction. As we wallow in our pity party, perhaps we think God is testing us or even punishing us. We might begin to doubt God’s love. Why would a loving God allow (or even cause) me (my loved one) to suffer? 

When such paralyzing thoughts invade, that’s when we need to dive into God’s Word and claim God’s promises. There are so many beautiful promises sprinkled throughout the Scriptures! They are precious treasures just waiting for our hungry hearts to discover (or rediscover) and embrace. I decided to start making a list, one that I can add to and refer to whenever I begin to slip into destructive self-pity. Here are a few of the powerful promises I am claiming as a follower of Jesus Christ:

• “I will never desert you, nor will I ever forsake you (Hebrews 13:5c).” 

• “This is my command-be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go (Joshua 1:9).”

• “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-39).”

• “So do not fear, for I am with you, do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand (Isaiah 41:10).”

• “Let us hold tightly without wavering to the hope we affirm, for God can be trusted to keep his promise (Hebrews 10:23).” 

Please check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/ 
where you’ll find a FREE gift just for visiting.

We Fear What We don't Understand

It seems to be human nature to fear what we don’t know or understand. But we have a choice in how we respond to our fear. We can either ignore it or we can face it. Ignoring fear is the easy choice but can result in abysmal consequences. Fear that is ignored or denied invariably grows and metastasizes. Because it doesn’t go away, it produces anxiety, distracting us from what and who are important in our lives. As it festers, fear can make us angry, causing us to lash out verbally or even physically. It can make us tired and sick, both mentally and physically. 

A close family member, someone I have loved my whole life, is living in fear. As a result, he has cut off his entire family. He is so fearful of our political differences that he can’t even entertain a dialogue with us. In fact, he has shut down all hope of communication. Sadly, I don’t think our family is the only one going through this.

In his final communique with me, he lashed out at someone he had always claimed to love, calling me names like “Commy, left-wing Socialist, and anti-American.” Incidentally, we have never discussed our political views. It’s just that he discovered we didn’t vote for the same party/candidate. Am I frustrated by his words and behavior? Yes. Am I hurt? Of course! But, after much thought and prayer, I realize his verbal assault and rejection are based on fear. He is lashing out because, as a White man in his sixties, he is afraid of losing his comfortable position of White male superiority. 

I’m convinced that fear is a powerful force underlying much of what we see happening in our country and our world. Political divisions, racial divisions, religious divisions...all are based on fear. I see White supremacy as fear of what will happen if Whites are outnumbered or lose their position of power, if Blacks or Asians or Mexicans or Native Americans are given power--or even equality--what will happen to us Whites who have been conditioned from birth to think we’re superior to people of color. Will we then have to contend with oppression or prejudice or slurs? 

Fear fuels race wars and political conflict. What if someone reaches a position of power whose belief system is not in agreement with our belief system? What if we let Muslims or Hindus or Jews infiltrate our so-called Christian society? Will they out-number us, over-power us or, heaven forbid, try to convert us? We fear what we don’t understand. But, unless we try to understand those who look different, worship differently, or vote differently, how can we hope to achieve harmony? If we refuse to move beyond our base (often baseless) fears, there’s no possibility of engaging in a healthy discussion that doesn’t require us to agree but only compels us to be respectful. 

I still pray that my family member will one day move beyond his fear to initiate open communication in the spirit of love we once shared; but at my age, I must accept the possibility that I may never see or hear from him again. That realization hurts far more deeply than any name-calling. 

"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear...(1st John 4:18)."

Please check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/ where you’ll find a  FREE gift just for visiting.

A Pleasant Encounter

In general, I don't enjoy book-marketing events. Why? They're usually long and tiring. But, as an author, I know that, unless I hire a publicist (which is expensive), I'm ultimately responsible for marketing and selling my books. 

Don't get me wrong. After a year-and-a-half of quarantine, I was grateful for the return of in-person events; and I'm sometimes pleasantly surprised to meet exciting people who engage in meaningful conversations. They make all the entry fees, hours of standing--sometimes in the hot sun, other times in the rain--and sales-pitch repetitions worthwhile, especially when they buy a book or two. 

Last month's 2nd Sunday event in downtown Williamsburg was such an experience. Two other local authors and I shared a tent and marketed each other's works and our own. The weather was pleasant, and as we enjoyed good camaraderie, the time passed quickly.

Best of all, we met hundreds of friendly, kind, and interesting people. One couple, in particular, was memorable. Actually, they were two couples traveling together from New York City. The women approached our display while the men stood across the street talking, laughing, and obviously enjoying each other's company. One of the women suggested that her husband should be a character in a book. "He's definitely a character," she said. She said he hadn't had a bad day in his entire life; he laughed every day, and for their forty-some years of marriage, he had made her laugh every day. I told her I'd like to meet him, so she called him over.

I wish I could remember his name. I certainly won't forget his attitude. "Your wife says you've never had a bad day," I said. "What's your secret?"

"I've had plenty of bad things happen in my life," he answered, "but a long time ago, I decided to view everything as a blessing. I was injured in Vietnam. We lost a child in infancy. I lost my job once. The worst event was when my wife, here"--he wrapped his arms around her shoulders"--was diagnosed with kidney cancer. I thought my life was over because I thought her life was over. The lowest blow was when I discovered I wasn't a match to donate a kidney."

"But our son was!" she chimed in. "It was a miracle. That was twenty-five years ago, and I thank God daily for my life."

"And I thank God every day for her," he said, beaming.

"So, would you say that how we view life determines our level of contentment?" I asked.

"Absolutely! It's all about gratitude...being thankful for what and who we have, not moaning about what we don't have or what we've lost." 

As his wife turned back to her friend, he spotted my book, After Rain, and asked about it. I told him writing it had been my pandemic project. "I wrote it because I strongly sensed that we all needed comfort and peace." I mentioned that one of the devotions was about the practice of gratitude, the very thing we were discussing. "I have to remind myself every morning to be grateful," I said. "It's so easy to slip into complaining, especially during the last year-and-a-half when it seems like our world has turned upside down. That's why I wrote After Rain. I needed the reminder that, no matter what we are going through, God stands ready to walk us through it and help us triumph over the challenges." 

"Amen!" said his wife, who I didn't realize had been listening. She bought the book. Then, she bought one for a friend. I hope she and her friend are as blessed by reading it as I was in meeting her and her devoted husband.

Please check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/ ,where you'll find a  FREE gift just for visiting.

The Mountains Called

The mountains called and we answered. Many people go to the beach for their summer vacations. That’s just fine, but my husband and I prefer the mountains. The idea of spending the bulk of our precious summer months in hot, humid Eastern Virginia gives us a severe case of the heebie-jeebies. The good news is that we can travel a mere three hours to reach the Blue Ridge with its lower humidity and cooler temperatures and still be in Virginia. There we can sleep with the windows open, dine al fresco, and hike without breaking a sweat. 

Our favorite get-away spot is Wintergreen Resort where

we rent a condo with a breathtaking view that includes

an abundance of stunning flowers and butterflies. We have access to tennis (golf, too, but we don’t play), and great hiking trails. We even hiked the Appalachian Trail this time...for about 100 yards. Whew! 

There are many good restaurants, wineries, and cideries in the area, too. You might even catch a glimpse of a black bear. 

The best part of our annual get-away is the Wintergreen Summer Music Festival, Erin Freeman, Artistic Director. After having to cancel last year’s event, Erin (no relation) outdid herself this year! We attended two of many concert offerings held in the Dunlop Pavilion, and both were stellar. From Bach to Brahms and Mendelssohn to a commissioned work for virtual chorus and live orchestra, every musical moment was mesmerizing. 

I know! This blog sounds like a copy ad for Wintergreen Resort, but trust me when I say, "Don’t go to Wintergreen Resort in the summer."

We prefer having it all to ourselves.

 

Please check out my author website: https://www.cindylfreeman.com/ where you’ll find a  FREE gift just for visiting.