Something to Say

I just returned from my third writers conference in a month...logged about 7000 miles from the east coast to the Rockies and back to the mid-west. I found myself interviewing hundreds of potential authors, but all WRITERS! It seemed a little unfair that so many have such deep dreams to write but only a handful have a passion.

Writing is hard. It's not the glorious avenue some tend to think it is, rather it's a lonely place to reside. We close ourselves in a room, sometimes smaller than an jail cell and only talk to our imagination. In a way, we're a reclusive bunch.
But what I've discovered in this past month of travel and teaching is that these writers, whether their passion is deep or not, all seem to bear one thing in mind. That is, their love for Christ.

We all have stories to tell..some of us far more gifted at telling than others. (Seasoned writers would say, SHOW don't TELL), others and speak their tale but need someone else to write it. Still, the reigning truth is...the writers I saw all love Christ.

Their zeal to learn the craft of writing is strong, their willingness to be shown their flaws--amazing. And most would say, "Why would you go to a place where folks criticize what you love to do?" And again I remind you of their deep love of Christ.

There's a world of difference in a Christian Writers Conference and a Secular Writers Conference...and though the market is equally as tough in both venues, the love of their fellow writers supersedes the competitiveness of the market. Once again, the prominent difference -- Christ.

I've been to both types of conferences, seen the way writers are perceived and treated, and I can say without hesitation, there is a marked difference in the two.


I spoke to a man who'd attended a secular conference in Ohio, he sat before me, tears in his eyes as he slipped a page of his writing into my hand. The prose was beautiful, the thoughts well constructed, the writing mechanics pristine and when I patted his hand and complimented his work - he sobbed.

At bit taken back, I apologized. I didn't know what else to do. Here sat a football player-sized man, blubbering like a baby. What do you do other than apologize? I tried to ignore his tears and continue with the interview, pointing out spots that especially touched me as I read. Oh there was a couple of things he could had polished - but we all know writing is subjective. Over all, his work was excellent. When I'd finished talking, he swiped the tears from his cheeks and said, "You saw the passion of Christ in the work. Thank you. At the secular conference, editors tore apart the subject matter, slashed away my words calling them trite. But you saw the passion of Christ."

I realized at that moment the defining point of being a Christian was not in calling myself a Christian but in that deep-rooted passion of example. The encouragement Christ offered to us, we can offer to others and the result...is a changed life.

When the conference was ending, this man met me outside the main conference hall and walked with me. He nudged against my shoulder and remarked, "I told my wife about your gentleness, about your encouragement. And I told her that I was ready to quit. Give up. I took the last of our savings to come here, searching for something. I wasn't sure it was publication, I think it was simply encouragement...hope. And I found that in you."


Now, I'm not the greatest Christian in the world. I'm full of flaws if you look deep enough, but I definitely related to this man's remark. Because we all need encouragement, validation that the efforts we make are important. Even if they may not be, well written...the effort, the attempt to follow a story that Christ has placed in their hearts is so VERY, VERY important.

Sure, some of us are better at it than others, and there are some who should just hand their story over to a writer who can do it for them, but the fact remains, the passion of the obedience to make the attempt. Who are we to fail to encourage? Who are we to slam and tear apart the story God has placed in the hearts of others?

Our responsibility is to be honest with compassion. To guide, not destroy. To encourage not discourage. Just as Christ did.

There in....lays the passion.

A writer once said, "Don't write just for the sake of writing. Write if you have something to say."

I have mixed feelings about that remark because some of us journal our stories the best our untrained talents allow. But we all have something to say, we all have stories and it's up to us to listen.


My friend, Alton Gansky said, "When you write for God you need to understand your work may never be found in the pages of a book on the Lifeway Bookstore shelves, but it may only be meant for the guy sitting next to you." Now THAT, my friends is true encouragement. It's truth spoken in love and nestled between the love of Christ and encouragement. I wrote that down. It hangs on my computer so that I am reminded daily WHO I write for and that I understand it's okay to pursue a dream of being published as long as I continually work to hone the craft, but that even my best work may only be meant for the guy sitting next to me.

In other words, I have a story to tell...I have something to say and when I say it the best way I know how, then God will work with that. Does that mean to do shotty work? ABSOLUTELY NOT--it's my responsibility to learn the craft well! But it puts into perspective what the truth is.

So my thoughts are: We all have something to say. What is important to me may not be important to a publisher but it may move the person sitting in the pew next to me. Who knows how God works? But I care...don't you?

I received a devotion from a PhD recently. Her devotion submission had great content but academia screamed from the page. So I called her. We chatted and I guided her toward listening to her heart. Her devotion really did have great value...it just needed to be tweaked so that the average Joe could understand the message. When we were done, she said, "Why didn't you just toss this in the rejection pile? Kill it. What did you see in this devotion that made you willing to call me? I was stunned.

"I pray that God will give me eyes of purity when I read. That He will show me the message and not allow me to judge the message on the writing. And then that He will lead me to helping you find the message yourself." That's the truth. That's what I do. That's what God has called ME to do.

Work at being an encourager not a destroyer. Your encouragement might take a poor writer and spur them into greatness. But more so, it may take a message hidden in the rough and spring it across the world.

Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference 2010

Blue Ridge Christian Writers Conference 2010


I love the Blue Ridge Christian Writers Conference. I walked into the Lobby of Ridgecrest in May, 2003 for the first time. Nervous, alone, but determined to learn the craft of writing, I checked into the hotel.

Funny enough, I made my way to a group of chairs and sat down to catch my breath. My arms covered in poison ivy, I looked like I should be in a leper colony rather than at a writers conference. A beautiful brunette sat in the chair next to me. I smiled. And as she eyed my arms, a giant grin crossed her lips.

"I'm just itching to know your name! Let me get out a pen and scratch your name in my notebook." She raised her brow and winked.

For a second, I hesitated, then burst into laughter. That was my first friend at a conference...Gina Holmes. I still love her to bits. Three years running we shared fond memories at Blue Ridge. Then God spoke to Gina and she started Novel Journey. Next month, she debuts her first novel, Crossing Oceans.

That's what happens when you go to writers conferences. God speaks to you and if you're open, He hands out assignments. He handed me a ministry partner, Eddie Jones, and ChristianDevotions.us. And every year we meet at Ridgecrest and walk the mountain because that's where God speaks to us.

I'm blessed this year. Early retirement, walking on faith, an awesome ministry, two radio shows, publication dangling in the future, and I still can't wait to get back to Blue Ridge...to see who of my friends have snatched a hold of the golden rope and swung into the realms of "published."

I've met some of Christian writing's most elite writers and I'm fortunate to call them my friends all because I launched out on faith and went to the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writers Conference.

Perhaps you can't make it to Ridgecrest in May...maybe you're afraid, worried about the money (it does cost a little to attend), or maybe you think it's too far to travel. Well, DON'T!

I've said before:
Little faith is hoping God will do what He says,
Big faith is believing God will do what He says,
But great faith....Great faith is knowing God has already done
what He said He'd do!

Have great faith. Look in your heart and search for your dream. If it's writing...believe it's NOT silly...but a gift from God, then step out. Go. Let God do what He promises.

Check out the Blue Ridge Mountain Christian Writer's Conference at www.lifeway.com

Meet God on the mountain!

Doug Varrieur 700 Club Interview

Listen to fellow author Doug Varrieur on the 700 Club about his book FAT TO SKINNY

What's in a Daisy?

He loves me...He loves me not....He loves me....He loves me not! I found myself staring at color photo of a field of daisies. I love daisies. They're my favorite and last summer my husband and I were in Gatlinburg, TN hiking through the Smokies and we ran upon this field of daisies in Cades Cove. It was breathtaking. I was on my hands and knees snapping close-ups, far aways, and upside downs of the petaled wonders. I wanted to remember them.

It seems when I was a child, daisies were everywhere. They bloomed all summer everywhere--along the streets, the highways, in the fields, around barns and houses. The white petals were always a lasting summer treat when everything else had faded. But I've noticed in the last several years, they're becoming a rarety.

As I looked past the photo on the wall and out the window, white powder dripped from the sky...something else that's been a rarity in our area for some time. I had to wonder, where's the simple pleasures of life going? They're fading. Just like the stories about our children that make us laugh.

I recall my best friend Marty telling me about her 5 year old, Wendy. Marty was pregnant and cleaning the bathroom when the the faucet on the tub stuck and she couldn't get the shower turned off. The door bell rang and it was the area minister dropping in for a visit. When Marty told him what was going on, he ran to the bathroom and tried to help shut down the shower.

In the meantime, the phone rang -- figures...only when you're in the middle of disaster. So Marty hears her 5 year old answer the phone.

"Uh huh. Mommy's here. (pause) Uh, huh, you can talk to her but she can't come to the phone right now. (pause) Because she's in the shower with the preacher."

My friend says to this day, she still doesn't know who called but she was sure her 5-year-old started a conspiracy that shook the walls of the church for years to come.

Those are the moments we cherish. The moments we seem to lose touch with as the world continually speeds ahead. Little things like catching a snowflake on your tongue or plucking the petals of a daisy...he loves me, he loves me not.

The older I get the more I hold tight to these moments. The more I cling to the scent of my infant sons as they lay naked against my chest sleeping. The soft feel of their tiny feet and the sweet taste of their pudgy fingers when I kissed them. Ah...those moments.

What's in a daisy. Easy enough. Each petal holds the hope of the Father because on His daisies there are not "loves me not" petals. Regardless of the whir of the passage of time, I'm blessed to have the memories of a quieter time nestled in my heart, caught in a breath of a photo, or through the here today, gone in a few hours bit of snow. Every moment is filled with joy. Believe it or not, the wisdom of age even mellows the bad memories and allows me to reflect on the good instead.

It won't be long. Nope, not long at all, until the daisies are peeking through the ground, lifting their heads in worship to the Creator who designed each petal.

What's in a daisy? The undeserved love of the Father. Free for the picking and as long lasting as the seasons.

There's Glory in That!

I got scared today! I'd transferred the last of the ministry money from the savings to the checking. Still looking at over $1000 of expenses in the next three months... I got scared. I'd prayed with a friend about the provisions needed for the ministry, even asked if I was being sinful in my fear. She reminded me Satan lobs fear in our faces to hide the face of God and we had to forge past. Knees shaking, I headed to the bank the next morning. The checking account said $8.00.

$8.00!

Our ministry savings account had $350. Transfer $300 from savings to checking and then pray God provides, I thought. The clerk, sensing my apprehension, patted my hand, "He'll provide."

Sure He will, I thought to myself.

I headed to the car teary-eyed and asked my husband to stop by the post office to check the ministry mail. I slipped my key into the PO Box and twisted. "God you gotta provide!"

Pulling open the door, a long white envelope lay tilted to one side. I smiled and tore open the envelope. A check for $300 stared back at me. I'd held on to that last $300 in our ministry savings for an emergency. I'd gone to the bank fully intending to add my personal money to the kitty. Instead, I trusted God and moved $300 from savings to checking.

Why was I so surprised that God had provided the exact amount we needed when I had let loose and trusted?

I still don't know where the remaining $1000+ funds will come from, but I'm sure God has already figured it out. I'm certain He tapping His toes, waiting for me to trust Him for provision. If I can trust Him with our finances, I can trust everything thing else.

Including my life.

All too often, God makes me wait. In fact, sometimes He reeks havoc on my ulcer because I'm a sinful worrier. It's how I'm wired.

Eddie and I wrote today's He Said, She Said devotions on John 11:4-6.

"When he heard this, Jesus said, 'This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it.' Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. Yet when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days."

This verse struck Eddie on the illness part...but me...it was all about the glory. It was all about God making me wait, just like Jesus made Mary and Martha wait. He knew the ultimate outcome and He wasn't in a hurry. Ya see, that's monumental to me because I expect an answer before it's too late. I'm a Mary and Martha. And when I pray and pray and God doesn't show, I'm a little hurt and a lot disappointed. The thing is I'm learning about the glory of God and how to GLORIFY God. It's not about me. It's about Him and how the situation will bring glory and witness to God the Father.

I've always joked that Jesus was a dawdler. And He was. When You're God incarnate, when you have the inside spoof on the plan, then what's another day or two? Nothing! Lazarus died, and then HE DIDN'T. And had Jesus come prior to his death, the impact wouldn't have been near as amazing.

Jesus finally showed, Lazarus was revived, Mary and Martha probably danced a jig, but more than anything else, God was glorified by the wait.

So I sigh. My stomach hurts a little. I sniff and tear up because I'm amazed by the glory and frightened by the wait. Regardless, God knows what He's doing and makes no bones about proving Himself either.

When I turned loose of the tiny savings the ministry had...when I took it out and handed it over to God, literally within minutes He provided. He doubled the money.

When I handed the check over to the teller she asked if I wanted the money in savings (after she squealed "Wickedly cool!!!) and I didn't hesitate.

"No way! You don't save God's money. You spend it where He says." I've since paid down a couple of the ministry bills but there's still more to come. And even though I'm a little scared as I fight this spiritual warfare, you need to know, I've not looked at the on-line banking so I don't know the balance. God will provide. He always, ALWAYS does.

Yep, that provision story happened to me so it's safe for me to say, "There's glory in that!"

Check out the book. You'll be glad if you do. I encourage you to buy it, read it then leave it on someone's seat. Let them read it. Leave a note in it and tell that reader to read the book then leave it in yet another place for someone else to read. It's not about selling books, it's about spreading God's word. Faith and FINANCES: In God We Trust (A Journey to Financial DEPENDENCE).
It's pretty cool when God takes hold of your money.
www.faithandfinances.us
Send me your comments and stories of how God has blessed you when you released your finances to Him.

So God Does Speak...right?

Yesterday I walked the path in the prayer garden at Ridgecrest, NC. I love this place...regardless of the season. I've walked it in the spring rain, the summer heat, the fall foilage and now, I've walked it in winter's blanket.

I stepped over the mound of snowand walked onto the covered bridge. Wow. What I saw was the most amazing thing...I somehow felt like John trying to explain heaven.

The snow blanketed the ground, snuggling tight around the trees and inching close to the creekbed. The water's voice echoed off the wall of white. And I wondered. Does God speak?

A misty rain fell around me and as the water dripped from the fingers of the trees, it was as though God had shed tears for me and frozen them in time. I could see not only the beauty of His tears but the evidence that He longs for me...misses me when I fail to show.

A squirel burrowed into the depths of the powder searching for a nibble and I wondered if God speaks?

Today, I walked the garden with my friend. The snow had frozen and as we walked the it crunched, grabbing at our feet, holding to our every step. And when we sat to pray my questions were answered.

With each phrase my friend spoke, each need he lifted before the Father, the ice that clung to the trees cracked and dropped to the ground. The sound, whispered the voice of God.

"God provide.." and the financial bonds split and slid to the ground.

"God give us discernment and wisdom..." again, a split and ice slipped from the trees splashing into the rush of the stream.

"God lead us. Let us glorify your name, please you in our efforts..." a rain of tiny pellets fell from the tree tops.

"Shhhh," I said. "Listen."

At that moment, I knew God had spoke to us. For with each request He tore away the bonds of fear, the chains of worry and cuffs of concern.

God does speak. In fact, I imagine He screams occassionally. I love to listen for His voice in the demanding forces of the thunder or in the tender whisper of a falling leaf. Each sound I hear reveals an attribute of the Father who loves us more than life itself. I know this because He died for us.

I've learned God never stops speaking rather, I sometimes play life way too loud in my head and it drowns His voice. When I learn to turn down the volume, just like today in the garden ....He speaks clearly.

Shhhh. Listen. Can you hear?

Who is it about?

I've been blessed to know a writer of amazing talent. The gifts this writer possessed came from deep within their soul and the words that streamed from their pen often brought readers to tears.

I was amazed at the lives that were touched, even changed by the extreme care they took in crafting the words, weaving the healing powers of Christ in and out of their sentences.

My desire to be a writer has been a life long dream. I think for most who love writing, the same is true...it began as a child with the shear love of the feel of a book in their hands. And though I have a God given talent, it doesn't come easy. Words don't just "flow" from my head onto the page. Writing for me, is difficult and daunting. But I love it.

So every time I sit at my computer to write, I ask God, "What are we gonna write today? Use the words." When I began writing devotions six years ago, it started as a 30 day venture to help members of our church develop a habit of spending time with God in study.

Over and over, well meaning people said, "You can't keep this up. It's too hard. You'll run out of ideas." I chose not to look at time, rather to look at the world around me..to look for God in everything. After all, He is everything. How could I possibly run out of material? The bigger challenge was not that I would run out of things to write but could I maintain the discipline to write His words every day? Could I teach myself to pray EVERY SINGLE DAY and to never let that slip?

Six years later, I'm still writing devotions. I still get up every morning and write my prayers because during that time of development my love of God grew into a hunger that I craved. I'm still learning to deepen this relationship with Him.

Who'd have ever imagined that God would take the words I write and use them in a ministry. Use me as a tool to bring others who write to the forefront. Spread His word. Who'd have thought He'd match me with an unlikely ministry partner who's become my dearest friend and brother?

Every word we write is a blessing from the Father. Every person alive is made in the image of this Father and gifted individually with unique talents and gifts. God is not a slouch...His attributes stream across every medium and we're all blessed with something that will glorify the Kingdom. The hard part is ignoring the lies that Satan whispers. "You can't do that, you're not talented." or "That's not a gift...it's stupid."

And even harder is, the success of the gift -- crediting God and meaning it. Keeping our heart pure of the greed of success and allowing the words He's given us to be untainted from selfishness.

My writer friend , lost track of the gift. The success of talent overcame the heart of the crafter and glory shifted from the Father to the child. The words that are written are still beautiful, heartfelt words, but heart is different. And though they may be successful, and folks may ooo and haaa over them, the words that once drove home a deep intimate message of love, now fill the pages with emptiness.

My words may never fill the pages of a book on a shelf, I hope they do, but they may not. But what I pray is that the relationship I am forging with the Father is stronger than the hype of success. Should my words hit the pure white pages of a book, will they always show the crimson of His blood...and will they always be HIS words for HIS glory, to be used HIS way.

Who knows if I can manage that task. But I pray daily I can. I may fail--fall into the trap that Satan lays. I hope not.

My friend's book tells an awesome story of love and redemption, but the heart is gone.

When you write...write with the passion of the Christ who gave you everything including your words. Pray faithfully that it will always be about HIM not us. Who are your words written for?

Life Lessons - Shesh!

I received an email from an old high school friend. She let me know she'd run into yet another "old high school" friend. Just so happens, he was my first boyfriend. (Ah, young love!) She sent his email address asked me to contact him. So I did. Sent him an email.

To my surprise, he answered. It's always neat renewing old friendships. I was amazed at the details of our friendship he remembered. Always the sweet guy, he found his way to greener pastures and I was left behind.

We chatted awhile, caught one another up on kids, and life choices and though he sounded okay, there was a sense of loneliness about him. I thought about the times I've felt that same loneliness, especially when I look over some of the decisions I'd made through the years. I thought I'd thought them through. But I imagine, I like most, suffered the effects of decisions made from immaturity.

It was C. S. Lewis who said, "Experience is a brutal teacher and my God, we learn. My God, we learn." Wise man, that Mr. Lewis.

We've all made choices that cost us. Things that look good at the time but prove to be massive mistakes in the aftermath, but that's where the life lessons come into play. What's the old saying, "Live and learn?"

My old friend had a sense of sadness about him with the decisions he'd made in the past. Awe, he didn't say the words, "I made a mistake" but hinted at the loneliness of his past. It was apparent.

The life lessons we learn come as a result of our choices. And though they don't always have an immediate effect, they eventually catch up to us. I've learned over the years--taken my share of life lumps, but I've always tried to look into my mistakes and find the "good" part of the lesson as well.

Christ must have wondered about His decision to carry the cross to Calvary. There had to be a point, when beaten beyond human recognition, that He wondered why? We can only assume to think He had 2nd thoughts. I don't think He did. But I had to wonder if Christ knew His suffering would be in vain for some. For those who refuse to look at His life lessons, at His example.

He paid the price for us--didn't regret it either. Instead He pleaded for our forgiveness. It's still hard to wrap your head around. Isn't it?

It was nice talking to an old friend--rethinking the choices I'd made as a teen. Reviewing the direct decisions that moved my life or halted it. I hope my friend finds peace and happiness. I hope he gets past the decisions he's made in the past. In the mean time, I'll think on life lessons I've learned and the roads that I could have taken, but didn't.

I'm fortunate. Fortunate to recognize the experiences of my past shoved me straight into the arms of Christ. C. S. Lewis was right. "Experience is a brutal teacher. My God how we learn." My God, how you teach me.

Aren't You Amazed?

So, the last few months I've been studying "What is truth?" You know, all the basic questions of life that the new-agers try to dump on us. "Who Am I?" "Where did I come from?" "Is there really anything after this life?" Those mind boggling questions that really no one can answer with precision. (Hence, the reason the new-agers grasp hold and say there is no God...cuz' they don't get that God is SO BIG. And honestly, it's sad they are lost to their own refusal to look up instead of out. -- sigh!)

It's hard to convince someone God exists by using scripture. They don't believe scripture. So our only real weapon is our own life. Ultimately, our own depth of joy, peace and love in Christ becomes the weapon to fight with. Imagine that. 'Reckon that's why God tells us to put on His armor everyday?

My friend asked me, "So do you really believe this God stuff?"

I found myself...well...speechless, at best. My first thought was, "You're a Christian, you idiot, what do you think?" But, not only would that have seemed crass, it wouldn't have been the example God wanted me to present. Then I realized something. It's harder to convince a questioning Christian than a non-believer! They can fight back with scripture or just the denial of it. So, where do I stand in this battle? Perhaps a greater question than "why am I here?"

As we say in East Tennessee, "I hadda thunk on that." And thunk I did--all day and the bigger part of the night. And when I woke up in the a.m. hours tossing the question over in my mind, I suddenly felt very "ill-equipped." So, I got up, walked to the bathroom and splashed water on my face. The night light cast a yellow glow around my silhouette and I watched as water dripped off my nose. "Shesh, God. I'm speechless here."

"Why?" He whispered.

"Because, I'm not sure I know how to answer my friend's question."

"What was your answer?"

"Ah - you answer a question with a question. That's just hunk-dory! My answer was YES! I believe in this God stuff." What else would it have been?

"Do you live your answer?" God whispered. I had to stop and think on that one, too. Did I? Do I?

"I try." I said as I splashed water on my face a second time. "I really try. But I'm far from perfect."

"Who said I expected perfection?"

This is the thing about God. He talks to us with questions. Hard questions and I never know if there's a right or wrong answer. I suppose the point is to make me dig deeper into my own heart. Ultimately, that is where the answers to all the hard questions hide.

I remember a song we sang in Sunday school as a child.

I've got the joy, joy, joy, down in my heart.
Where?
Down in my heart!
Where?
Down in my heart!

That pretty much answered my questions. Sometimes God gets clouded for us all. I went outside the other morning and the fog was so dense I lost my bearings. Now, I've lived in this house for 23 years, walked on the porch, stepped down to the sidewalk bizillions of times. But this time, the path was so clouded I slid my foot slowly in front of me feeling for the edge of the porch. I was completely turned around and I felt as though I'd fall. Honestly, it was a little frightening. But eventually, I turned loose of the door and trusted the way I knew by heart. And Guess what?

It was still there. I extended my hand and began to walk. I knew the fence would eventually be there. And it was. I didn't sway off the sidewalk toward the pond (thank goodness, I've fallen into that rascal before, butt first!) I say with great conviction, that my heart and mind knew the way because it was the truth. The truth doesn't budge. Ever!

I probably failed my friend in the big question of life. But then did I? My hope is that the light of Christ does show in my example and that the hunger for a deeper presence with God in my life makes someone else salivate for taste of Him, too. You know how your jaw aches when you smell someone's grape bubble gum on their breath. You can almost taste it by the smell. Makes you want a piece, too.

Yeah, without a doubt I believe this "God stuff." And even when I've wondered if God is ignoring me at times, I've never questioned His presence.

What is truth? Christ is truth.
Why am I here? Because God wanted to know me. Because I WANT to know Him.
Is there life after death? YOU BET. We just can't get our heads around it.
Who is God? I would say, "Who is He not?"

So, for my friend, I pray God will lift the fog or push my friend off the porch to trust what he knows to be true and unchanging...the way of God...the truth...never changes paths.

I hope that's a good enough answer. I hope the example of my life is a guide maker. I am who I am because of the God who lives inside of me and I though I don't always understand His ways, I never question if He exists. Even when the way is clouded I know He exists.

What's a Devotion?

This summer my ministry partner and myself were fortunate to be on staff at the Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference. We spent the week teaching writers how to promote their work through internet radio and interviewing writers for www.christiandevotions.us.

Oddly enough, we assumed writers understood what a devotion was. And for the most part,they did. With a little guidance they could take a personal testimony and turn it into a devotion (the two are not the same).

However, through the hours we spent working with writers and enjoying every second of it, the revelation hit me on the last leg of my plane trip home.

It rained torrential bucketfulls in Philadelphia which threw my flight behind. I watched as the pilots and flight attendants waded across the tarmac through ankle deep water to board the plane - and I thought. Now that's devotion!

With ten minutes to spare my flight landed in Cincinnati. The cabin door opened and through the window I eyed the automatic staircase being pushed against the side of the plane. Well, almost. It rolled within five-feet of the door and stopped, not to be moved another inch. The machine operator patiently shifted gears forward and backward, over and over and OVER. Still the stairs wouldn't budge. In my impatience, I thought to myself, "Now THAT'S REALLY devotion! The guy just keeps trying."

After 45 minutes waiting to disembark, the mechanics physically lifted the stairs and moved them securely against the door. The airline staff directed us off the plane, down a corridor and into the airport. As soon as I stepped into the waiting area, I heard my name over the intercom, "Cindy Sproles, report to Delta 6215 desk." I looked on the monitor for any clue to where Delta 6215 was located. Finally, in a last ditch effort to catch the one remaining flight home, I asked the guy at Delta 7166 desk. "They're calling my name but I can't find Delta 6215."

"No problem, he said. "It's this desk." I bit my lip, puzzled.

"But it says Delta 7166."

"Right. They're holding the plane for you." I didn't get it but I figured if they were holding flight 7166 for me, they had to know the numbers didn't match.

Are you ready for a chuckle? Here goes...

The guy at the desk motioned me through the same door I'd entered. I was met by the same flight attendant who walked me down the exact corridor and BACK ONTO the same plane I had left. You got it. The same plane. I wondered WHY I couldn't have just just stayed put? And before you ask...yes, I even had the same seat from the previous flight, only this time I had to step over a nice man to get to it.

I laughed as I shoved my computer under my seat. In fact, I continued to laugh which peaked the man's interest. Settling into my seat, I flipped open a book my agent had given me. The man smiled and tapped my book. "Southern Romance."

"It is indeed. My agent wants me to write a romance. So I need to read one to write one."

One tidbit led to another and we began to chat. I found out he was a neurological surgeon who lived in a neighboring town close to my home. As we talked I told him about the opportunity to teach aspiring writers about writing devotions.

He cocked his head to one side and said, "What's a devotion?"

This very educated and intelligent man, who made his living performing surgery inside people's heads, didn't have a clue what a devotion was. Actually, he didn't believe in God either so why would he know what a devotion was?

I thought for a minute. I took for granted WHAT a devotion was. Every morning of my life, I get up and dig into the Word, then say my prayers. But I had to explain what a devotion was to a man who didn't believe in God.

We talked the entire trip home and when we landed I gave him a Christian Devotions business card and asked him to visit the site. He promised he would, in fact, he put the card in his wallet instead of trashing it.

I got to tell him about the God he didn't believe in. And before it was over the best description of a devotion I could come up with was this:

A devotion is NOT just what you read about God,
it's the time you spend getting to know Him as well.

We're devoted to lots of things in our lives but are the things we're devoted to giving back to us? So I ask this question....where does your devotion lie? Family, friends, work? or God? You tell me. What is a devotion?