When Grief Overwhelms, Faith Leads the Way

When Grief Overwhelms, Faith Leads the Way

The past thirty-six days since my precious daughter’s passing have been grueling. The shock of losing her pushed me into a dark place, trapping me in sorrow until a friend pointed out something I hadn’t recognized—I was being tormented by a Spirit of Grief.

I believe in the reality of spiritual warfare, but I was too overwhelmed to see it. However, once I began praying to rebuke this spirit, I felt myself slowly climbing out of despair. This past week, I’ve been able to function better. Some days, I only cry once instead of a dozen times or more.

As God continues to answer my prayers, I find the strength, courage, and energy to accept that my daughter is gone.

I’m no stranger to grief. I’ve lost my beloved great-grandmother, my loving mother, my dear husband, and now my precious daughter. Each loss has left a deep wound. Grief forces us to confront death in a deeply personal way. And despite what some may say, it doesn’t get easier with time or familiarity. Each loss brings a fresh wave of sorrow that stings, cripples, and, at times, fills me with anger.

Over the past thirty-six days, I’ve experienced a rollercoaster of emotions and dealt with the aftermath of losing someone so dear. It has been exhausting. It has been debilitating. And in many ways, I know this journey is just beginning.

Yet, once I started praying for the Holy Spirit to free me from this torment, God delivered me from its clutches. I feel better physically—no more rushing to the bathroom or eating antacids like candy to soothe an upset stomach. My mind is slowly healing, and spiritually, I’m experiencing the power of focused prayer.

Through my tears, I can still whisper, “Thank You, Lord,” because He has been my refuge. I choose to walk with Jesus and rest under His wings, where I am safe from the trials before me. Each day, I face life without my daughter, yet I find myself sleeping a little better at night.

But life hasn’t stopped. On top of grieving, I am going to move again. Not long ago, I told Stephanie that I hoped I’d never have to move again. She understood completely. And yet, here I am, facing the reality of packing up, relocating, and spending money I don’t want to spend. If I stay, I have no family nearby, and if the house sells, a new landlord will likely raise the rent—something I can’t afford as a retired widow on a fixed income.

When I decided to move, I cringed. I cried. I felt like a weary traveler wandering and exhausted from the journey. I had barely started packing when God spoke to my heart: Think of this as a mission. You are a missionary, touching lives wherever you go—even when you don’t realize it.

His words shifted my perspective. Sometimes, we are called to do things we don’t want to do simply because they are necessary.

Spring is awakening, and the flowers I planted with care are beginning to push through the soil. The thought of leaving behind my trees, bushes, and perennials breaks my heart. But God reminds me: Think of it as a gift to those who will live here next. Let them enjoy the beauty you’ve left behind.

As I downsize yet again, parting with belongings that hold meaning, my heart aches. But God reassures me: New days are ahead. Keep what you need for that future.

I worry about my two cats and how they’ll adjust to our new home. But again, God whispers: Give them time—and give yourself time. Show them they are safe, and you will find comfort in that too.

This season of my life is teaching me to surrender my worries to God. When I place my trust in Him, He gives me hope, strength, and the assurance that He is guiding me forward. And for that, I offer Him praise.

I will forever miss my daughter, of course. But I also know that one day, I will see her again when I am called home. Praise the Lord—hallelujah!

Psalm 121:1-8
"I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
He shall preserve your soul.
The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, and even forevermore.”

 

 

 

 

I love you, Baby Girl, you're my Sweetheart and I'm thankful God gave you to me for 46 years. I will see you when God calls me home. 

STEPHANIE CRABTREE 

Stephanie Karen (Jennings) Crabtree, 46, passed away on Sunday, February 2, 2025, in Nevada, Missouri after an automobile accident, leaving behind a legacy of love, kindness, and cherished memories.

Stephanie was born January 19, 1979, in Neosho, Missouri, to the late Stephen Jennings and Karen (Utter) Jennings. Her mother survives. Stephanie graduated in 1996 from Purdy High School. She was the office manager and helped run her father’s business, AAA Refrigeration & A/C, in Joplin for 14 years. She was a devoted worker to her father’s business and she inherited that work ethic from him. She was dedicated to caring for others, was an exceptional Registered Nurse, currently the Staff Educator at Cox Barton County Hospital, Lamar, and was nearly finished with her master’s degree in nursing administration.

She was a Christian who was devoted to her family and always supported and nurtured them, she loved all animals, enjoyed swimming and the great outdoors, traveled extensively, crafting, singing, and she inherited her musical ability from her Grandpa Leroy Jennings.

Stephanie married Brandon Branham in 1996 at Purdy, Missouri, and two children were born to this union, Kendal and Kynsey. Stephanie married Don Crabtree in 2019 in Joplin, Missouri and he survives of the home.

Additional survivors include her mother, Karen Jennings, Nevada Missouri, mother-in-law, A.J. Ervin, Lamar; a brother-in-law, David Crabtree, Arizona, a sister-in-law, Christie Rodriguez, Nevada; her children, Kendal and wife Bryana Branham, Arkansas, Kynsey and husband Trent Brown, Arkansas, a stepdaughter, Ashley Starbuck, a stepson, Tristan and wife Kyleann Crabtree, all of Nevada, Missouri. Her siblings, Kimberly and husband Mike Ruede, Florida, and Candace and husband Cody McConnaughey, Neosho, one brother Patrick Jennings, Joplin; grandchildren, Braxton Evans, Brexxleigh Watkins, Jameson, Jensen, Kadynse, Kymber, Harper, and Hazel Brown, Aaliyah and Alexis Starbuck, and Logan Crabtree and she was excited to welcome Logan’s baby sister due in March; five nephews, Rhett Rodriguez, Tyler Burton and wife Karyssa, USAF, Andrew Burton and wife Brianna, USAF, and Noah and Caleb McConnaughey; one niece, Lydia McConnaughey; and one great-niece Claira Burton, and two great-nephews, Creed Burton, and Maverick Burton.

She has been taken for cremation and a Celebration of Life will be announced at a later date. Stephanie will be deeply missed by all who knew her, but her spirit and the love she shared will remain in our hearts forever.

 

 

Vintage Bites: Recipes From My Kitchen: Joyce's Cranberry Salad

 

Image: Bing Free Images 

Joyce’s Holiday Cranberry Salad

This beautiful and delicious cranberry salad is a festive addition to your holiday table. Originally shared by my sister-in-law Joyce years ago, this recipe is easy to make and features simple ingredients. This photo of cranberry salad is not mine, as I’m unable to eat cranberries due to a medication interaction now. 

Ingredients

• 2 cups sugar
• 2 packages (6 oz. each) strawberry-flavored gelatin (Jello)
• 2 cups hot water
• 1 ½ cups cold water
• 2 cups fresh or frozen cranberries, ground (if using frozen, thaw first)
• 1 cup red apples, chopped (e.g., Red Delicious, or substitute with your favorite sweet or tart variety)
• 1 (20 oz.) can crushed pineapple, drained
• 1 cup pecans or English walnuts, chopped
• Whipped topping (e.g., Cool Whip), for serving

Instructions

1. Prepare Ingredients:
• Gather all ingredients.
• Grind the cranberries in a food processor (thaw first if frozen).
• Chop the apples and nuts.
• Drain the pineapple thoroughly in a colander.
2. Make the Gelatin Base:
• In a large bowl, dissolve the strawberry gelatin in hot water. Stir in the sugar until fully dissolved. Add the cold water and mix well.
3. Combine Salad Ingredients:
• Stir the cranberries, apples, pineapple, and nuts into the prepared gelatin mixture. Mix until evenly combined.
4. Set the Salad:
• Cover the bowl and refrigerate overnight to allow the gelatin to set.
5. Serve:
• To serve, scoop the cranberry salad into individual portions or a serving dish and top with whipped topping.

Notes

• Reduce the sugar for a less sweet version and opt for tart apple varieties like Granny Smith. Cranberries are naturally tart, so adjust with caution.
• This cranberry salad is a family favorite. We love the balance of sweetness and just a hint of tartness in the original recipe.

 MERRY CHRISTMAS! 

The Christmas Promise

 

Image: Bing Free Images 

The Christmas Promise  

December 9, 1971                             

Jessica Dyer had never strapped on a pair of roller skates in her life, yet here she was, inching along the roller rink’s railing on the wall. Inside Skateland, scents of popcorn, people, and sugary cotton candy mingled with the sharp tang of the icy December night that seeped in every time the door swung open. The other girls zipped by her, their laughter and shouts blending with the popular song, Take It Easy sung by The Eagles as it blared from the overhead speakers, making the wooden floor beneath them rumble. Strobe lights cast sparkling orbs over the walls and ceiling, creating a mesmerizing, kaleidoscopic effect.

The rink was festooned with faux evergreen wreaths adorned with bright red bows, and mini-Christmas trees twinkled from every corner. Jessica’s breath came in fast, nervous puffs as she struggled to stay upright, her knuckles white from gripping the railing.

She was here for Cara Clark’s sixteenth birthday party. Cara’s friends glided effortlessly across the rink, their movements fluid and graceful, while Jessica felt like a baby deer on ice. But determination burned in her brown eyes; she was resolved to enjoy the night without breaking a bone.

Suddenly, Cara skated up to Jessica, her face flushed and eyes sparkling. "Jessie, follow me. There’s someone I want you to meet!" she called breathlessly before zipping off towards the benches.

"Um, give me a minute!" Jessica called after her, creeping along the railing. She finally reached Cara, who stood next to a blonde-haired young man. His eyes were bright blue, and his smile was warm and inviting.

"Here, let me help you," he said, extending his hand. His grip was firm and reassuring as he guided Jessica to the bench. Jessica flailed and stumbled but managed to reach the safety of the seat.

Fumbling with the skates, Jessica pulled at the laces and slipped them off, feeling the cold, rough surface of the floor under her feet. "Whew! That was close, but I managed not to fall!" Pride laced her voice.

Cara grinned and gestured to the young man. "Jessica, this is Sam Hilton. We’ve known each other for a long time. He wanted to meet you!"

Jessica looked up into Sam’s face, noticing how his hair swooped down over his forehead, reminding her of Hermey, the elf from Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. His smile caught her by surprise as he bent down and brushed her cheek with his lips. "Hello, Jessica, sweetheart."

Jessica’s face warmed, her heart bouncing. No one had ever greeted her like that; most boys at school were far less charming.

Cara explained, "Sam’s on leave from the Air Force. He just came to see who all was here. And here we are!" Cara laughed and skated away to join the other girls on the floor.

"I just got into town yesterday," Sam said, his voice easy and smooth. "My brother and cousin wanted to cruise around the square, then we decided to come here. Are you from Neosho?"

"No, I’m from Granby," Jessica replied, tying her sneakers tight, embarrassment creeping into her voice. She glanced at Sam’s military green fatigue jacket. "Are you from Neosho?"

"Born and raised here," Sam replied. "Hey, are you still in school, or are you on Christmas break?"

"Two days left before break."

"I’ll pick you up after school tomorrow, okay?" Sam’s smile was dazzling, his voice hopeful.

"Groovy, I won’t have to ride the bus!" Jessica beamed.

Sam waited for Jessica in the bustling high school lobby the next day. Teenagers spilled into the hallways, scurrying around with Christmas break on their minds. Freshly baked sugar cookies from the Home Ec class mingled with the musty smell of lockers, No. 2 yellow pencils, and textbooks. Jessica spotted Sam waving to catch her attention amidst the chaos. "Hi, Sam! You found me in this sea of bodies!"

"My eyes will find you wherever you are, Jessica. Here, let me take that for you." He eased the flower-power cloth book bag off her shoulder and led her outside to a gold 1966 Ford Mustang. The vintage door groaned as he opened it, and she slid onto the cold vinyl seat.

"Do you Want to cruise the square in Neosho before you go home?" he asked, turning the car onto the highway. Tommy James and the Shondells' Crystal Blue Persuasion song flowed from the eight-track player. 

Jessica bit her lower lip, torn between her desire to spend time with Sam and her responsibility to her family. "I’m sorry, but I need to get home. My brothers will be alone, and Mom expects me to have supper ready."

Sam nodded in understanding. He took her home, but he picked her up from high school the next day, and they made plans to go out on Friday night. When Friday came, they cruised the square several times before heading to Joplin, where they bowled a few games. The bowling alley’s din of crashing pins and cheers echoed around them, mingling with the smell of waxed floors and the taste of greasy fries they shared.

After bowling, they walked two blocks on Main Street to a downtown park lit with thousands of twinkling lights. A vintage blow mold set of holiday choir singers stood near the water fountain, now shut off for winter. Some of the paint was peeling off the faces of the plastic singers, but Jessica loved the old set anyway. Sparkling golden lights bathed the evergreen trees, and lighted displays lined the sidewalks. The place was magical.

As they walked hand in hand amid the sparkling lights, Sam told her about his time in the military and that he was going to Iceland in the spring. He came from a big family—ten brothers and sisters—who lived on a farm outside Neosho. Jessica shared her story, the eldest and only girl among four brothers, her mom working long hours to support them. She loved writing and cherished her little transistor radio for the solace it provided when she was alone in her bedroom.

"Your hands are cold," Sam said, taking Jessica’s left hand and tucking it into his coat pocket with his own. Jessica felt warmth spread through her, not just from the physical contact but also from Sam's kindness and happiness.

They returned to the Mustang parked along Main Street. A few snowflakes dusted the windshield, and icy puffs of wind coughed over them. The car provided much-needed warmth.

The days that followed were filled with shared moments, laughter, and growing affection. Jessica met Sam’s large family, who welcomed her warmly, and Sam joined Jessica’s family for several dinners, fitting in seamlessly.

Two days before Sam returned to the Air Force base, they sat in his Mustang at the Dog ‘n Suds, waiting for their chili dogs and root beers. Sam reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small jewelry box. "I got you something."

"Oh, I haven’t had time to get you anything, Sam!" Her heart quivered as she saw the box, surprise and embarrassment mingling through her. "You didn’t have to…"

Sam beamed, opening the lid to reveal a tiny gold ring shaped like the infinity symbol with a sparkling diamond chip in the center. "It’s a promise ring. Promise me you’ll wait for me. You said you like writing. Maybe we can write letters back and forth while I’m gone. You’ll be a senior next year. Maybe after graduation, we can see what happens next?"

Surprise hitched in her voice as the diamond winked at her in the dashboard lights. "I’ll wait for you, Sam. I promise."

A warm kiss sealed their Christmas moment, promising a future filled with love and hope.

THE END

Author's Note: I dedicate this story to all of my sweet, silly, and wonderful girlfriends during our Junior year in high school. We had such a blast and I'll never forget all of you! With love & Merry Christmas! 

Image: Bing Free Images 

 

 

Vintage Bites: Family Recipes fom My Kitchen: Aunt Erma's Fluffy Dinner Rolls

Aunt Erma’s Fluffy Dinner Rolls

In 1978, this cherished recipe came to me in a letter from my husband’s Aunt Erma, a master baker who shared her love of family through food. For over 45 years, I’ve baked these rolls, perfecting the process and even experimenting with fun variations like “pigs in blankets.” I hope you’ll enjoy this recipe and make it part of your own family’s traditions.

Dear Niece, here is my recipe for bread and hot rolls. I hope you love them! Love, Aunt Erma

Ingredients:

·         1 ½ cups hot water

·         ½ cup white sugar

·         1 teaspoon salt

·         ¼ cup vegetable oil

·         2 packages quick-rise dry yeast

·         ½ cup warm water

·         2 large eggs, beaten

·         6 cups sifted flour (white, wheat, or bread flour)

Instructions:

Prepare the Dough:

1.      In a large bowl, combine sugar, salt, and oil. Add the 1 ½ cups hot water, stirring until dissolved. Let cool.

2.      In a small bowl, dissolve the yeast in ½ cup warm water and let it sit for a few minutes.

3.      Once the oil mixture has cooled, stir in the yeast mixture. Add the beaten eggs, mixing well.

Mix and Knead:

4. Gradually add flour, one cup at a time, stirring after each addition. The dough may be sticky, so sprinkle in a little extra flour if needed.
5. Lightly flour a surface (wax paper works well). Oil your hands, then knead the dough on the floured surface for 5-7 minutes.

First  Rise:
6. Place the kneaded dough in a large bowl. Cover with a clean tea towel and let rise in a warm spot until it doubles in size. Punch it down and let it rise again.

Shape and  Bake:

7. For rolls: Pinch off portions of dough, roll into balls, and place on a greased baking pan. Cover with a tea towel and let rise.

8. For loaves: Divide dough in half and place each half into a greased loaf pan. Cover and let rise.
9. Bake at 425°F:

·         Rolls: 20 minutes. Brush tops with butter after baking.

·         Loaves: 20 minutes. Brush tops with butter, then cool and slice.

Notes:

·         This recipe yields about 20-24 rolls, depending on how big you make them.

·         Variations: Wrap dough around hot dogs for “pigs in blankets” and bake for 15 minutes at 425°F.

·         A stand mixer with a dough hook can simplify kneading.

With love and a little history, Aunt Erma’s recipe reminds us that food is a connection to our roots. Happy baking!

Here are the dinner rolls I made for our Thanksgiving dinner: 

A Thanksgiving Devotional: Restoring Your Heart

 

A Thanksgiving Devotional: Restoring Your Heart

This is Thanksgiving week. The holiday season is here. It's often called "the most wonderful time of the year," yet for many, it feels far from wonderful. Perhaps you’re facing a mountain of tasks with no time to spare. Or maybe you’re grappling with loneliness, grief, health challenges, financial stress, or broken relationships.

Do you find it hard to be thankful this season?

Take a moment to reflect:

• Is your heart happy and healthy?
• Is it filled with love, hope, and peace, or is it heavy with fear, anger, or disappointment?
• Is your heart overwhelmed with chaos—internal or external?
• Is your heart broken?

If this resonates with you, know that God desires to restore, rejuvenate, and bless your heart. Let’s explore three powerful ways to find blessings and experience the restoration your heart needs.

1. Believe: Faith is a Blessing

Believing is a gift that fills our hearts with hope. God invites us to communicate with Him daily—whether through prayer, laughter, tears, or quiet moments. Believing that God controls your life, your circumstances, and the universe opens the door to peace.

When life feels overwhelming, hold fast to faith. Jesus promises us in Mark 11:24 (NKJV):
"And whatever things you ask in prayer, believing, you will receive."

Ask boldly for what you need. Trust that even in your darkest moments, God is with you. Let your heart soak in the blessing of believing that good things are possible because God is faithful.

2. Slow Down: Rest is a Blessing

In the rush of the holiday season, slowing down is not just a luxury; it’s a necessity. Life's demands can weigh heavily, but prioritizing rest and reflection can refresh your spirit.

• Make a list of what truly matters and focus on those priorities.
• Learn to say "no" to what drains your energy.
• Take breaks that bring you joy—reading, walking, or simply sitting in silence.

As David reminds us in Psalm 62:1-2 (NKJV):
"Truly my soul silently waits for God; my salvation comes from Him. He is my rock and my salvation; He is my fortress; I will never be shaken."

Slowing down allows your heart to find stillness in God, grounding you in His strength and peace.

3. Listen: Obedience is a Blessing

Listening is an act of faith and obedience. When we quiet our hearts and minds, we can hear God’s still, small voice. Listen to the people around you with love and grace this holiday season. Listen to God through His Word. Let His truths shape your actions and attitudes.

James, the brother of Jesus, instructs us in James 1:19 (NKJV):
"Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath."

We grow in wisdom, empathy, and gratitude when we listen. We open our hearts to receive God's guidance and blessings.

A Heart Transformed by Gratitude

The holidays can be challenging, but they also offer an opportunity for transformation. Jesus encourages us in Luke 11:9 (NKJV):
"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you."

No matter what you’re facing, God is ready to meet you where you are. He promises in Ezekiel 36:26 (NKJV):
"I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh."

This Thanksgiving, Give Your Heart a Gift

This Thanksgiving, let go of bitterness, anger, and fear. Embrace the blessings of believing, slowing down, and listening. Just as the Grinch’s heart grew when he chose kindness and forgiveness, your heart can expand with gratefulness, contentment, and thankfulness.

Let God renew your spirit this holiday season. He is ready to give you a renewed heart overflowing with His love and peace. 

Here is a prayer for you: 

Dear Heavenly Father,
We come before You with hearts that long for restoration and peace. Thank You for Your unending love and faithfulness, even when we feel weary or broken. Teach us to see Your blessings in every season, and help us to trust in Your goodness.

Restore our hearts, Lord, and heal the wounds that weigh us down. Fill us with Your peace, and let it rule in our lives. Deepen our gratitude so we may walk each day with thanksgiving, praising You for Your abundant grace.

May our lives reflect the love and joy You pour out on us, and may we bring that same love to others. We thank You, Lord, and give You all the glory. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

A Thrilling Drive

 A Thrilling Drive

by 

Karen Jennings 

 

"It's such a nice evening for a drive," Eleanor told Will as they drove the stretch of gravel road west of Lakefield, Kansas. It was a bit cool for April, and the 1914 Oakland's open-air build didn't protect her from the elements. Her pea coat and gloves kept her snug, and her favorite black wool wide-brimmed hat protected her hair from tangling and her face from too much wind. 

"You're not too cold?" With admiration filling his eyes, Will glanced at his best girl at her classy look. His gloved hands never left the steering wheel of his Oakland Six motorcar. "And I hope you enjoy the surprise I have for you." 

"I'm warm as a bug in a rug. And please tell me what you're up to." 

Will slowed the car as he pulled it to the side of the road. "Alright. We're here." He climbed from the vehicle, went around, and opened the door. He swept his arm wide, waiting for her to get out. 

Eleanor's sweet smile faded. "We're in the middle of nowhere." 

He took her hand in his gloved one and helped her stand. Guiding her to the driver's side of the car, he opened the door. "Hop in, Sweetheart." 

He chuckled at the surprise covering her face. "I, I…no!" She shook her head, tears pooling in her eyes. "I can't drive your car!" 

Laughter filled the cool evening air. "That's why I'm teaching you!" Trust framed his blue eyes as he looked at her. 

Excuses tumbled from her lips, but he shushed her. "Do you need help getting in?" 

Confidence replaced the unshed tears. She gave him a glare. "Of course not!" She stepped on the running board, sat in the seat, and placed her hands on the steering wheel. 

Will stayed at her side. "I don't have to adjust the seat for you; it's just right!" 

"That's a plus, isn't it?" A little smile played around her mouth, and her cheeks warmed. Will must trust her because he loved his car and cared about keeping it clean, oiled, and up to par. He would never allow anyone to drive it. 

While he instructed her with the essential driving information, he assured her, "I'll be right beside you, so relax and let's have fun." He climbed into the Oakland. 

With each command, Eleanor responded, and she drove the Oakland down the road, little puffs of dust kicking up behind the wheels. Will's small talk comforted her as anxiety melted away. What a great feeling of freedom to drive a machine instead of a horse and buggy or a bumpy old farm wagon. 

"There's a curve up ahead, remember? When you get there, please slow down and maneuver around it. We'll stop, and I'll take over." 

Eleanor glanced at him and smiled. Will was calm. His arm rested on the top of the seat, his fingers near her shoulder. What a great surprise this was! Her body relaxed even more, confidence building with each roll of the tires. "Why don't I stop before we get to the curve…just in case?" 

Will shook his head, "Nah, you're doing great, kid!" His smile was infectious. "You can go a little faster to get the feel of speed." 

Eleanor put pressure on the pedal, and the car moved faster. The butterflies that swarmed her belly earlier seemed to fly away with the vehicle as it traveled smoothly toward the setting sun. Cool wind ruffled her hair beneath her hat. But the black felt hat flew away when a gust roared through the car. 

"Oh!" Caught off guard, she watched the hat tumble and land on the dusty roadway. It would be ruined.

 Eleanor caught sight of a car rounding the curve, heading toward them. Panic punched her belly as she pushed the brake pedal, jerking the steering wheel to the right. The Oakland screeched and whined as the back tires caught the loose gravel. Sliding into the ditch, it roared to a stop.

 Dust billowed, covering them with fine grit. The other car pulled to the side of the roadway, and the driver rushed to help. "Are you okay? What happened?"

 Tears slid down Eleanor’s face as she sat rigid and still. She couldn't get a word to leave her mouth. What had she done? What if the car was broken? She'd have to pay for it! And Will would never let her drive again! Worst of all, she would never want to drive again, ever. Dread seized her heart. What if they broke up over this wreck? She would be a wreck if that happened!

 Fortunately, Will remained calm. "My lady lost her hat, and I do believe she reacted by hitting the brake a bit hard."

 "I'll wait and make sure it starts up again before I skedaddle into town," the older man told them.

 Sure enough, Will brought the Oakland to life again, and they waved to the man as he left. Turning onto the roadway, he braked. Taking Eleanor's hand, he squeezed. "Are you okay? No bumps or scratches?"

  "No, I'm fine." Her heart said otherwise. A tear betrayed her. "I'm sorry, Will!"

 He shook his head. "Silly, we are safe, the Oakland isn't hurt, so cheer up. We've had a grand adventure! At least I know what the old girl will do on a dusty, gravelly road!" His chuckle was harmony to her ears. “But…” he looked at her. “We may have to buy you a new hat.”

 "Why do you surprise me all the time?" She cocked her head and stared at him.

 His look did the talking. "Because I intend to marry you one day!" 

The End

I hope you enjoyed reading this partial scene from my historical womens fiction novel, A Path To a Promise. If you did, please leave me a comment below. Writers love hearing from readers, it’s important to connect and encourage one another. Have a blessed day ~ Karen  

 

OCTOBER: Falling Leaves, Pumpkins & Apples, Hunter's Moon, Nat'l Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and Family History Month, OH MY!

 October's glorious days are my favorite month of the year. Like all the months of the year, it is filled with days to celebrate many things, from Celebrate Pasta to World Singing Day! It's Breast Cancer Awareness Month and ADHD Month to recognize our need to be aware of our health. 

October is Family History Month, a time to celebrate our heritage and document the people who came before us. Family history is my jam, and I get a thrill at the discoveries I make and those to come. 

Today, you no longer have to drive across the country scouring courthouses and other institutions to dig through musty old records. The internet is alive with genealogy websites to help you find your family roots. I'm not getting compensated for this, but I highly recommend Ancestry.com and Newspapers.com for those interested in starting your family history search. Once you build a family tree on Ancesty.com, you will begin a journey like no other. 

The brick-and-mortar historical and genealogy societies, museums, and libraries in your area offer structured help for genealogists searching for their family stories. Visit your local society, which usually sells county history books that may help you discover where your people lived. Libraries and bookstores offer great genealogy books and magazines to help you.  

I have visited all the area institutions and gleaned what I could from their resources. Now, it's easiest to get online and look at what documents are offered there.  

There are lots of ways to keep your family history. From paper versions written in 30-ring binders to online family trees, you might want to record your loved ones talking about their life experiences! To keep the recordings with their voices is a treasure for you and your children to hear Grandma's and Grandpa's voices. 

It’s easy to set up your family tree with genealogy software or popular websites dedicated to the subject. As mentioned above, I recommend using Ancestry.com to start your family tree. It has optional subscriptions with a small price tag, but when you get started, Ancestry will lead you to find many records, documents, and family for your family tree. Ancestry has professional researchers who can do some of the more complex research, or if you have met a brick wall in your research, they can guide you to helpful information. 

Newspapers.com is my other go-to resource for finding not only family information but general historical information as well. I love spending time in their incredible online archives. The bits and pieces of my family's lives are sprinkled throughout time and detailed by the local newspapers. 

October is a fun-filled month, and the days are usually warm, so you can get outdoors and hurry inside when the crispy fall night creeps in. So much is going on with school back in session with fall sports, autumn activities and festivals, and the ushering-in of the holidays. Fall is the perfect time to grab your camera and get those pictures of your family living life. Take advantage of walking, go to fall festivals, and snap beautiful photos of autumn fruits, veggies, and decorations. Many festivals offer historical programs that provide scenarios for pioneer days and Civil War era reenactments. Enjoy the sights, sounds, smells, and people dressed in period costumes in a beautiful fall setting.

Get outdoors, view the Full Hunter's Moon, and listen to the crickets singing the last songs of the year. And snap colorful photos of your family that will be treasured for years. Remember to label your snapshots with complete information identifying who, what, when, where, and sometimes how and why.

With the blazing colors of autumn right around the corner, remember those harvest gatherings, elementary school parties, hayrides, the cute scarecrows, fall garden splendor, and pumpkin patch outings. October is an excellent month to start researching your family history or continue with what you’ve already accomplished. What a fun time to be indoors and outdoors. Capture your family history this fall. Happy October! 

 

 

The Inspiration Behind The Path to a Promise ~

My novel, The Path to a Promise, is finished and in the hands of beta readers and my editor. It will be published when the time is just right. Esther 4:14 talks about "for such a time as this." Here is the story behind my story.

President Harry Truman said, “The only thing new in the world is the history you don’t know.”

 The Path to a Promise began with the cherished memories of my paternal great-grandmother, Ollie, a woman whose quiet strength shaped my childhood. Ollie was more than a caregiver to my brothers and me; she was a source of comfort, love, and wisdom. Her stories, full of colorful life experiences—like meeting Pretty Boy Floyd and working as a Soda Jerk—captured my imagination. She gave us a world where we felt safe, loved, and free to be children. When Ollie passed away in 1975, she took a piece of my heart with her.

This is a photo of my great-grandmother, Ollie. 

Years later, as my passion for writing grew, I felt called to tell her story. In 2011, I began piecing together a timeline of her life, using her old photograph album, genealogical records, and family documents. I started writing a manuscript that used real names and places from her life, and I titled it The Logger’s Daughter. Working as a preschool teacher by day, I dedicated my nights to research and writing. Although some details were missing, I let my imagination fill the gaps and invented parts of the story to complete the narrative.

In 2013, I finished the first draft—a 250-page manuscript I printed and tucked away in a binder. Later, a popular author and friend, Angela, offered to beta-read the manuscript. Her generous feedback encouraged me to polish the story, convinced it could one day be published. I continued researching, filling in the missing dates and details from Ollie’s life.

After I retired, I returned to the manuscript with fresh eyes and renewed purpose. I revised it, changing the characters' names and settings, except for Joplin, Missouri, which remained a key location. My imagination ran wild this time, weaving in national and local historical events. The early history of Joplin, with its bootleggers and zinc miners, fired my creativity, and I poured my passion into every scene. I prayed over the story, and God blessed me with new ideas that shaped Eleanor Johnson's life path.

The Path to a Promise is based on Ollie’s life, but it’s now the fictional tale of Eleanor Johnson, a young woman who finds strength and purpose in a world dominated by men. Raised in the Ozarks, Eleanor carves out a path that takes her to the bustling city of Joplin and, eventually, to the windswept plains of Kansas, where the golden fields of wheat and sunflowers stretch as far as the eye can see.

As I wrote Eleanor’s story, I laughed, cried, and even exhausted myself with the intensity of certain scenes. The writing process was both an emotional and spiritual journey for me. Though Eleanor’s story concludes at the end of World War I, her life—and the promise of more—will continue in Book Two, A Promise Worth Keeping, which I have yet to write.

This novel is my tribute to Ollie, the woman who gave me the best gift anyone could—a lifetime of love and memories. Though she’s been gone for many years, her presence is still with me every day.

Another photo from Ollie's vintage photograph album: 

Writing about women is important to me because their stories often go untold. They are more than daughters, wives, or mothers—they are the shapers of families and communities, leading fascinating lives. In history, too many women have been reduced to just a name on a genealogy chart. I believe their stories deserve to be told, honoring their strength, resilience, and contributions to the world. Their lengthy list of duties tells us how valuable they were, and still are, to their family.

 I write about the women in my family lines on my blog.  

 

 

Typos, Grammar, and Errors, Oh My!

Readers of books, magazine articles, short stories, emails, flyers, blog posts, social media posts, newsletters, online articles, college papers, cell phone messages, letters, and notes expect to find no typos, misspellings, grammar troubles, or punctuation mistakes. 

Sorry...that will never happen. The fact is you will find mistakes in published material.

I've been reading a lot this year. I read for pleasure and am a beta reader for a few well-known authors. I'm on a favorite author's street team and help proofread for three authors. When I read for pleasure, about 80% of what I read has mistakes—emails, blog posts, published books (traditionally published to self-published), and newsletters. Yep, they have at least one typo or glaring mistake.

Some people hate finding mistakes in their reading because they say it "jerks them out of the story," and they can't or refuse to finish the book. They throw the book at the wall and never read that author again.

I say, "Rubbish!" Nothing is perfect.

All writers and authors strive to produce perfectly clean, error-free writing. Yes, that is part of the writing process. What may end up happening, however, is those sneaky automatic corrections cause trouble. The grammar checker tools used to check their work could be better. Computers and formatting programs may have glitches, causing all kinds of problems. Writers, beta readers, reviewers, editors, and agents do miss mistakes while proofing manuscripts. And smart devices are only sometimes smart.  It happens all the time.

When I encounter a mistake while reading, I pause, absorb it, and continue reading. I'm not letting a mere typo cause me to stop reading authors’ books and supporting their efforts. If I did, there would be very few authors I would read. Even the well-known writers whose names are golden on star-studded publishers’ lists have mistakes in their writing. It's shocking, but it's true.

Can't readers forgive those little mistakes? If they don't, they will miss some really great stories. There's a lot to the writing and publishing world. But it's a long way from submitting work to traditional publishers and holding that book in your hands (even with self-publishing), and mistakes happen along the way. 

This is my opinion. Yours may be the opposite; you might throw the book away or never buy a book by that author again. We are all different yet alike. We should all forgive and find acceptance in our hearts. Chill out, dive into the story, and let those typos go!  We strive for perfection and hope it will happen but won't hold our breath. And, authors, keep on doing what you love to do...

Here are writing articles: 

What's Up With That: Why It's So Hard to Catch Your Own Typos | WIRED

https://www.crosswalk.com/slideshows/things-i-wish-id-known-christian-writing.html

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