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Hello Friends! We're already at the holiday season of 2020, and I hope you and your family are doing well. Reply to this email if you would like to catch me up on things, or if you have a prayer request. Here's the sneak peek of my new romantic comedy For the Love of Joy. Chapter 1 Weddings--the best of times, the worst of times, depending on one’s vantage point. In his own case, marriage had been a few sandwiches short of a picnic. Davis Donnelly tugged at the stiff collar of his white button-down. Why on earth did people have outdoor receptions in Florida, anyway? He needed another glass of punch. Or a gallon. Condensation dripped from the crystal bowl on the table in front of him. He knew the feeling. Officiating his first wedding had been an honor, but he felt like he was standing in soup out here in his friends’ yard. He’d spent the last few years studying to work in ministry, so he might as well get used to these shindigs. At least this small, hot gathering was almost over. The aroma of boiled shrimp still hung in the salty air, but most of the twenty or so guests seemed to have had their fill. “Hey, you.” A woman’s voice turned Davis around. His friend Star made a beautiful bride. Except right now, her face scrunched up like that time she’d accidentally eaten a scoop of wasabi thinking the green lump was an avocado. Still in her wedding dress, she marched toward Davis with Pastor Bruce on her heels. She stopped only inches away, all up in his personal space. “I just heard you aren’t on staff at the church yet? I thought you were starting a week ago.” “I have a few things to work out first.” A trickle of perspiration beaded on Davis’s lip. Star’s wedding reception didn’t seem like the time or place to plunge into his more-messed-up-than-she-knew life history. “Like what?” Star’s gaze bounced between Davis and the poor senior pastor from their home church back in St. Simons, Georgia. No doubt Bruce had been put on the spot. Davis swiped at a pesky horsefly buzzing around his head. Speaking of pesky, he might as well get this explanation over with. Star had a thing for sniffing around like a blind dog in a meat market until she found her answers. For real, why outside in this bog of humidity? He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. “I might be married. I’m not sure.” He blurted the blunt truth, and then pulled at the stupid collar again. “What?” Star shrieked, then popped her hand over her mouth. The news went over like a flock of fat chickens. Exactly as he’d expected. A few of the guests glanced their way. Waving, she smiled at them, then leaned closer, the edge of her white veil fluttering in the breeze. “How could you not know? Either you’re married or you’re not. And why didn’t you tell me?” Pastor Bruce lifted his palms. “Davis wants to take care of the…issue. Once things are settled, he can take the position as the outreach pastor.” The sturdy preacher turned toward Davis. “If he so chooses. He wants to start ministry with a clean slate.” Thank the good Lord for backup. Because the sharp furrow of Star’s brows said she wasn’t letting go. Yep, she pushed a fist to her hip. “Explain. Please.” At least she kept her voice low this time. Maybe humor would work. “Don’t you need to go chew the fat with your guests, Bridezilla? You just said I do. Your groom might be looking for you.” If his friend’s gaze had been a nail gun, he’d be full of holes right about now. Fine. “Here’s the short version.” Davis blew out a puff of air. “Married young, went into the army, got a Dear John letter with divorce papers, waived my active-duty service-members rights to delay the proceedings and signed them. Not long after, I was in an IED explosion and came home. There’s no actual paperwork that says the divorce went through. I want to set it straight before I start as a minister.” As soon as he’d filled out the official application for the position, he’d realized his marital status could become an issue, especially at a church. “Ooooh.” Star’s lips rounded, and her expression softened. “Sorry. When I heard someone say you hadn’t started the position, I thought maybe they were giving you the run-around.” Davis shrugged. “I’ve been avoiding the problem. Burying my head in the sand for ages. If I were an ostrich, I’d have been smothered a long time ago.” Bruce clapped a big hand on Davis’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’ve been fighting many battles and conquering. With the Lord’s help, you’ll manage this one too.” “Everything okay over here?” Paul Kelly stepped into their little group and wrapped an arm around his bride. The tall pilot gazed at Star, totally gooey-eyed. “All good.” Star brushed a kiss on his cheek. “You about ready to head out on our honeymoon?” Grinning like a possum eating a sweet potato, Paul bobbed his head, gaze fixed on Star. “I’ll make the announcement.” Davis strode toward the front of the crowd. This couple had fought hard to get here, but they were a good match. His own wedding to Joy Lynn Jennings hadn’t been under such joyful circumstances. Thinking about facing his former bride again twisted his insides. Too much heartache in those memories. Too much loss. His marital status with Joy needed to be cleared up so he could move forward in his life. He was excited to start the new outreach ministry, and he didn’t want anything to cast a shadow on it. After a ton of internet searching, he’d found what he believed to be Joy’s address--in Atlanta, of all places. He’d never expected the country girl to land in such a big city, and only a few hours away from where he’d settled in St. Simons, Georgia. First thing in the morning, he’d man up and hit the road. No more head in the sand. But with Joy Lynn Jennings, his head might end up someplace worse. ~~~ “For the love of all that’s good. If I get assigned another patient with lice, I might shave my head.” Joy Donnelly stripped off the layers of medical attire and pushed them into the receptacle in the hall of the ICU. She’d learned to double gown and double glove after she and Hankie ended up with the wretched vermin for the second time. “I hear ya.” Her friend and coworker, Amber Ross, waited several feet away, and Joy couldn’t blame her. “You do seem to be the chosen one for the hard cases. That means management has confidence in your abilities.” Amber pushed a loose strand of wavy ginger hair behind her ear. “Speaking of, you ready to turn my patient?” “Mr. Walters? My lands.” Had it been two hours already? Joy checked her watch. Yep, only five minutes away. The kind man had a perforated bowel that had become septic. Not even that old--maybe forty--he’d been a popular pro baseball player. Everyone loved him. Yet, he was also a large man for two petite women to roll over. Every two hours. Amber’s lips quirked up. “Time flies when you’re having fun.” “You’re not hilarious.” Nothing was flying in here other than the guy who’d rolled by on the pain pump. Only halfway through her shift, and Joy couldn’t stop a huge yawn. Chuckling, Amber waved her on. They headed down the hall toward the sliding glass door where the mostly unconscious patient waited. “Are you going to make it between work, studying, and Hankie? Have you considered putting off school until the little guy is…older?” What Amber meant was until Hankie became less of a handful. Would that ever happen? Apparently, she wasn’t only getting the tough cases at work. She’d been doled out a tough case in the toddler department too. Her precious cherub was a Houdini forty ways to Sunday, penetrating every child lock known to man. No matter. Joy could take care of herself and her son and do her job, even while taking classes to become a nurse practitioner. She had to. There was no one else to help them. And she needed the better income and schedule the clinic job offered in the NP position. Hankie could go to private school, and she could work week-day office hours. “Don’t you worry about me, Amber. I’m hanging in there like a hair in a biscuit.” Never mind that she dropped onto the couch plum tuckered out by the end of every day. “Oh, Joy. That’s just gross.” Sticking out her tongue, Amber pretended to gag. “You know you’ve seen worse.” Joy shot her friend a quick smile, then pointed at the computer monitor on the cabinet between the patient rooms. “Let me stop and log in my documentation. I don’t want to end up staying as late charting as I did last night.” Once she’d readied herself, she and Amber set to work pulling and pushing the draw sheet for the man. They settled him on his side and placed pillows behind him to keep him in place. A moan slipped from his lips. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.” Joy caressed his shoulder. “We’ll get you something for the pain.” She and Amber exchanged glances. They’d hoped he would have improved by now. When they were finished, Joy cleaned up and she moved on to her other heart-rending patient-- a young mother who’d been a victim of a hit-and-run while jogging, which caused massive internal injuries. Near the entrance of the room, the doctor on the case met Joy. “She’s dying. The family is down the hall. They’ll be in to be with her.” “Oh no.” A burn started in her eyes. “Did I miss anything? I’ve done my best to care for her.” The doctor shook his head. “The damage was too extensive. We all did what we could.” She couldn’t let herself cry, but this hit so close to home. There was a toddler--not much older than Hankie--losing his mother. Within moments, the young husband entered the hall, tears streaming down his face. His crumpled button-down shirt hung out of his khakis. His steps dragged. Joy met him and walked at his side. “I’m sorry. I’ll be with you however you need me to be.” “Thank you.” His voice was barely audible. “You’ve been so kind. If you could sit with us…” “Of course.” Her two words tasted bitter, felt useless in this situation. Each death was difficult, but some seemed particularly poignant. The man obviously loved his wife. When he reached the bed, he fell to his knees, took his wife’s hand, and sobbed. What would it be like to be treasured that way? Her own husband had taken off faster than a jackrabbit as soon as they’d said I do. Joined the army without asking her opinion. Obviously, he’d been an eager-beaver to get away from her. Pushing away the painful thoughts of Davis Donnelly, Joy quietly waited while the man grieved. Two hours later, the husband and other family members had said good-bye, and the young mother had passed away. Joy stood alone in the room. Another patient would be arriving soon. Another difficult story. Despite the fact that she tried not to get too attached to her ICU patients or their families, this one hurt. If she allowed herself to get close to all of them, she’d go home and fall apart every night. But this one gutted her. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to her own toddler if something happened to her. At least this patient’s child had a loving father. Her Hankie would be all alone in the world. “Hey. Sorry to bother you.” Amber poked her head in the room, interrupting Joy’s somber deliberations. “You’ve got a phone call at the station.” Joy’s stomach dropped quicker than a deer on opening day. “Oh, please, don’t let it be about Hankie.” “Maybe it’s something else?” Her friend was sweet, but there wasn’t anyone or anything in her life other than Hankie, the hospital, or her apartment complex. Maybe someone had hit her car in the parking lot or their apartment had burned down. One could hope. ~~~ Of all the days for Hankie to get “released” from daycare. Again. Joy exhaled slowly, trying to think. Now that she’d picked him up, she needed to figure out who could keep him for the rest of the day. And quickly. Her coworkers could only cover for a little while. “Here ya go, sugar booger.” She placed sliced bananas, a sippy cup of juice, and his favorite interactive book on the coffee table. “Momma’s gonna change and make a phone call. Or a dozen.” She mumbled the last part. “Okie dokie.” He trained his attention on the book. Thank heavens. She’d love to give Brainy Tots a piece of her mind for dumping them like an old hunting dog. Finding another good sitter or daycare on short notice would take some finagling. They didn’t come cheap either. Especially the ones near the hospital. And only the best was good enough for her boy. She’d not leave him with just anyone. Why did toddlers even get kicked out? After all, they were just learning the ropes of life. So Hankie wanted to go outside even when it wasn’t playtime. And kids put things in their mouth to see how they tasted, to discover the world. Hankie couldn’t help it if he bit every now and then. That’s what she’d read, anyway. But there appeared to be a limit to the number of times a kid could bite and do that escaping-the-building thing. Once she’d checked the deadbolt on the apartment door, Joy headed to the small bedroom she and Hankie shared in their third-floor flat. She stripped out of her scrubs and put on clean yoga pants and a T-shirt. The last thing she needed was to bring home germs from the hospital and get either of them sick. Sitting on the edge of her bed, she scrolled through texting and calling. Her lunch hour would be over any minute. Between her shifts as a nurse, her online NP courses, and Hankie, she’d made a conscious effort to help her friends and neighbors when they needed something if she could, but it seemed no one wanted to return the favor. Especially when it came to Hankie. There had to be someone, though. A dozen texts and phone calls later, still nothing. Joy raised her head, and the quiet in the apartment registered. Too quiet. Gasping, she jumped to her feet. “Hankie!” Things could never be this silent with her boy around. Sprinting, she rounded the corner into the den. A chair sat next to the open door, and a pile of toddler clothes lay on the landing outside at the top of the third-story staircase. “Oh, for the love. Help! Hankie!”  I hope you enjoyed the preview! Preorder for $1.99 on Amazon, Nook, KOBO, or iBooks! Here's the other giveaway I mentioned. If you're on Bookbub, I'd love for you to follow me, and now's a great time! I’ve teamed up with 30 fantastic authors to give away a huge collection of Inspirational Fiction & Nonfiction books to 2 lucky winners! The Grand Prize winner gets a BRAND NEW eReader!😁 Enter the giveaway by clicking here 👉bit.ly/InspyReads-Nov2020  Blessings in Him who can do immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine!
Janet
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Hello Friends! First, I'm so thankful for you! Writing would be less fun without readers! And can you believe it? 2020 is almost over. Well, I never do this, but I went ahead and put up my Christmas tree early. A lot of other people seemed to be doing the same, and I really needed to clean out my attic. Of course, now I wish I hadn’t started that project, but I know I’ll be glad when it’s finished!  Speaking of holidays, there are several holiday author extravaganzas I decided to join which will give you opportunities to stock up on holiday reading, and some even have prizes! Stay tuned! The first one is Thankful for Romance which includes some of my very dear friends’ novels that are either free or 99 cents. Check it out here Also, my friend Heidi has a new release coming up that you may enjoy!  Preorder on Amazon When I’m not cleaning my attic or writing, I’m taking care of my grand-dog since my daughter had ACL surgery. Isn’t he the cutest?  Don’t forget that you can preorder For the Love of Joy for only $1.99 before it releases on January 1. Available Amazon, Nook, iBooks, and KOBO. Praying you are doing well!
Keep in touch! Blessings, Janet  Hi friends! When I started writing in January, I had no idea it was going to be such a weird year with floods, diseases, hurricanes, and politics. Yet, God’s still in control, and maybe some of us need a good laugh. I know I did! They were fun characters to write, so I hope you will enjoy this romantic comedy! It's only $1.99 to preorder for January 1! Here's the blurb: Is he married or isn’t he? Years ago, a Dear John letter and then an IED explosion overseas rocked Davis Donnelly’s world and left him unclear about his marital status. He’d signed divorce papers, but broken mentally and physically, he’d never bothered to find out if his marriage actually ended. Now that he’s about to start a new position as an outreach minister, it’s time to settle things once and for all. At the moment he tracks down his wife—or former wife?—she takes a tumble while chasing a little boy. Her son. And that’s when life flips upside down. Joy Jennings Donnelly made her share of mistakes. But one thing she never considered a mistake was her child, and she’ll do anything to protect him. Even keep his paternity a secret. When she’s suddenly injured with not a soul to help her or her son, Joy is forced to rely on the man who has the most reasons to hate her. The preorder is available on Amazon iBooks Coming to Kobo and B&N soon! PLUS--- I have a new audio book! Magnolia Storms! I have a few codes left for this and I received a few more for some of my other audios. Just comment on this post if you're interested. If you don't do audio and you missed this book, the ebook is only 99 cents right now on Amazon! As always, let me know if I can pray for you! Blessings, Janet   Exodus 2:1-10, 15:20-21, Numbers 12:1-15
A woman of many talents, Mariam was brave even as a girl when she followed her baby brother Moses’s basket, then dared approach the Pharaoh’s daughter. Did she care that much for the infant or was she an obedient daughter, doing as her mother commanded? Either way, she had courage. In the text, she’s called a prophet. She led the women in singing her poetic praise song and even in dancing for joy after they passed through the sea on dry ground. But then pride or prejudice struck. She turned against her dear brother, possibly looking down on him because of the race of his wife. Not nice! Or maybe it was jealousy over his position or a recent decision she didn’t agree with. Surprising turn—she and Aaron grumbled, Has the Lord spoken only through Moses, hasn’t he spoken through us? Struck with leprosy, she was sent to solitary confinement outside the camp for seven days. Probably they were lonely, scary days, waiting and wondering, pondering her guilt, feeling shame. And the dark, lonely nights were likely sleepless. Her skin must have looked and smelled terrible too, and as a woman, I would be devastated by that. I mean, we hate getting a big pimple, but leprosy….yikes. But then God healed her, as He heals us from our ugly sins. Praise Him! What are your thoughts on Miriam? Hope you have a good week, and let me know if I can pray for you! Blessings, Janet  The Love of Two Mothers: Jochebed and Pharaoh’s Daughter
Exodus 2:1-10 Poor Jochebed. She was pregnant during a genocide of her people. With babies being thrown into a crocodile-infested river due to the order of a Pharaoh, her tiny son, Moses, would be doomed. Imagine the stress of that pregnancy, the fear mingled with pain during the birth. Imagine the terror clawing in her chest as she tried to hide her sweet newborn and stifle his gusty cries. Until, at last, there was no possible way to conceal him. Or to save him. But she couldn’t just throw her child into the murky water and watch him sink. There had to be another way. It wasn’t the best idea, maybe, but it was all she had. So she weaved together a basket and did what she could to make it waterproof. She followed the letter of the law, but not the spirit, then she set her son in the currents. I imagine she sobbed and prayed. Hard. I would. Our children’s lives are often out of our control. They’re floating away from us, into danger, and we have no idea how to save them. And we moms really want to rescue them, no matter their age. But sometimes we have to let them drift away on the tides with only our prayers. Let go, let God, as difficult as that is. Then came Pharaoh’s daughter. Bathing with her guards around her, perhaps watching for those crocs, a child float’s up. And she has compassion. She feels sorry for the baby. Defying her family and likely the laws of her county, she adopts a foreigner’s infant and loves him as her own. Sometimes, a kind soul can stand in the gap when we can’t be there for our kids. Other times, we can be that person and help someone else’s child. I pray for wisdom to make the right choice. Any thoughts on these mothers? I'd love to hear from you!  Just a quick note today, but I didn't want you to miss this. I'm excited to be a part of this amazing paperback giveaway! In fact, I wish I could win! Curl up with a good book this fall! Enter for one of multiple chances to win this set of clean reads! Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway here! Blessings, Janet  Hey y'all! I've been writing a while now, it seems. (See all my various weights and hair-styling attempts in the pics, LOL). We have a lot of new friends here, so I wanted to share again about why I started writing over the next few posts. If you've heard it before, or you're only interested in the fun book deals, you can always skip to the bottom of this page. I won't care one bit! ________________________________________________ Twenty-seven years ago, a car ran a red light and crashed into the vehicle I was a passenger in. I was pregnant with my daughter. Time seemed to move in slow motion as I watched the car careening toward us. I kept looking at the light, thinking: It’s green, it’s green, they’re going to stop. My head was turned to watch as the other car came closer to impact. I saw the other driver’s head turned. He was talking to his passenger. I felt our car speed up as thankfully my elderly father somehow noticed the car and pressed the gas. (I believe that was a miracle.) If not, the accident would’ve have been much worse. The other car never pressed the brakes and crashed into the back door and trunk of our car. I was in front passenger seat, my mother was on the passenger side back seat. Thank the Lord. We landed an inch away from a telephone pole in the yard of a fire station. I left in an ambulance, due to neck pain, but my fear was for my unborn child. She’s twenty seven now and fine, but what I didn’t know would stay with me beside some aggravating neck problems after that wreck …. was anxiety. I began feeling tremendous anxiety in vehicles. And eventually began having panic attacks on the interstate while driving, which was odd because my wreck wasn’t on an interstate. But somehow the wreck triggered something in my brain that had to do with the fight or flight mode. This was an acute stress response. I’d heard of panic attacks on a news show and thought, that’s silly. Just do whatever it is, and go on with life. But that judgement (like so many I’ve made) came back to bite me. This issue that I thought was silly became a problem I would deal with for the rest of my life. So far. I’m a person who tends to be open. I am what I am. This is it. I’m open about the problem. I joke with my friends about the fact that if we’re going somewhere requiring us to drive on the interstate, we can take my car, but I’m not going to be the one to drive. Because I’ve shared about my anxiety issue, over the years I’ve met a lot of people who confided that they too had panic attacks, or suffered from depression, bipolar, or some other disorder. What I found that hurt my heart almost worse was that, not only did these people suffer from some disorder that in and of itself was miserable, they also suffered from shame because of it. Embarrassment. The feeling that no one would understand. That people would think, like I used to, they should just get over it. People like me before I had suffered my own first panic attack. So I had a crazy idea. (Probably crazy idea number eight-million-five-hundred-two.) I wanted to write a story that showed no matter what our weakness or problem or disorder, we are all still useful in God’s kingdom, in our families, and in our community. We can be a part of doing good things even while we are still suffering. Sometimes we just have to accept ourselves and look outside of our issue that’s plaguing us. Look outside and see how we can be a good friend, a good family member, a listening ear, a volunteer— do a job that we can do. And know that God loves us. I'll let that be part one of how I started to write. As always, if you have a prayer request, you can simply reply to this email. Blessings, Janet And for the book fun! I joined this Christian Book Giveaway with other Christian authors. (Note: I haven't read all of these books.) Christian eBook & Paperback Giveaway!(2) Winners of eBook "Gift Baskets of ALL ebooks pictured! (31+) Winners of individual ebooks or bonus paperbacks (randomly selected) https://authorsxp.com/win-ebooks   Genesis 38 One short chapter tells Tamar’s bizarre story. Tamar’s husband, Er, was the son of Judah. He was a man so awful that God did away with him. Likewise, his brother Onan who was supposed to give Tamar a child in his brother’s place. He did not want to give her a child for selfish reasons. I read that the firstborn’s heir would receive a double portion. Having a child—a son—provided for the widow, as women didn’t have many rights or avenues to care for their own financial needs at this time, so Onan was sleeping with her but refusing to provide for her. God got rid of him too. Judah had one son left, and he didn’t want to take any chances on letting Tamar around this one, lest he lose him too. So he’s blaming Tamar instead of his wicked sons? What had happened to turn these early descendants of Abraham so evil already? Likely, the pagan culture nearby. God had warned them about hanging out with the Canaanites who practiced idolatry and the abhorrent practices that went along with their worship. Judah sends Tamar home to her father’s house to wait until his son is old enough to provide a child. So for years, she’s dressed as a widow, unable to remarry—a childless woman with nothing. Tamar takes matters into her own hands when she realizes that Judah is going to ignore his duty. Here we go again. We women do tend to go this way, don’t we? She might have asked God to intervene somehow, but instead, she dressed as a prostitute, face covered, and waited for Judah to pass. Her father-in-law was widowed, so he took the bait, leaving his calling cards—his seal, cord and staff—as a promise to send her back a kid (a goat). I had to laugh at the wording in English of the bargain, since he’s offering a kid goat, rather an actual kid son. Ironically, when he hears Tamar is pregnant, having prostituted herself, he thinks she should be killed. Burned even. Double standard, for sure. Then she nails him with the truth. He was the man she’d been with. The child inside her was his. He finally admits he was the one in the wrong. Wow, this is a gross story to me. How about you? Yet, God doesn’t shy away from the nitty gritty of real life in his Word, making it much more believable. The Bible is not a fairytale. This is a story of a woman being done wrong and an early quest for social justice. Tamar ends up having twins, and this woman is also in the lineage of Jesus. France Rivers has a wonderful historical fiction series about the women in Christ’s ancestry if you’re interested in reading more and putting yourselves in their place. Of course, I love reading biblical fiction and that may not be your thing. What are your thoughts on this weird story? I love hearing your take!
 Genesis 29-35
What would it be like to be the other sister? Not the pretty one with the lovely figure like Rachel. But Leah, the one with weak eyes. The one no one wants to marry. The one who was sent, veiled, into a dark tent to a man who did not desire her. I don’t know about you, but I’ve felt unattractive and unwanted at different spaces in my life. I’ve felt awkward and out of the loop. Un-chosen. Not because of my sisters, but maybe there was that other girl or woman who seemed to have it all together. She didn’t have to watch everything she ate to have a flat stomach. She didn’t fight hair that frizzed in the Mississippi humidity. She seemed to sail through life with a perfect smile and with a perfect family and that gaggle of friends always there to support her. Don’t we all know someone who appears that way? Especially now with social media! Genesis 29:31 said that God saw Leah was not loved and enabled her to conceive. God saw her. He sees us too. Then Leah went and named her son Reuben and said “It is because the Lord has seen my misery. Surely my husband will love me now.” Good grief, Leah! Is it just me, or were Leah and Rachel totally trying to depend on their husband to find their worth?? My husband is a good man, but friends, I have to find my worth in the Lord or I’d drive myself nuts! Truth. And another thing I’ve found is that men and women communicate differently. When I want to spill my worries and guts for a good long talk, I call one of my women friends who will just listen. It’s so sad that Leah and Rachel weren’t there for each other. Though never feeling loved, Leah ended up being the mother of Judah who was in the lineage of Christ. We don’t know who we could be influencing with our lives, despite believing we are unwanted or un-chosen. So, friends, let’s not dwell on what we don’t have. Instead, let’s praise God for what we do have and encourage each other along our journey. What are your thoughts on Leah? Any guesses what is meant by weak or tender eyes? Blessings, Janet  Hello friends! I'm still slowly doing my study of Women in the Bible. If you want to receive all the posts I make about them, just leave a comment, and I'll add you to a special email group. This week, I'm taking a fresh look at Rachel. Thoughts on Rachel Genesis 29-35 What would it be like to be forced to share a husband with your sister? I mean siblings can have enough squabbles over borrowed earrings and clothes, right? And to make matters worse, it had not been the sisters’ choice to share Jacob, but a trick perpetrated by their own father. Not a good start for a marriage. Jacob and Rachel met at a well, much like Rebecca had been found at a well by Abraham’s servant. Only this time was different in that the bride groom, Jacob, saw her for himself. Genesis 29 says he kissed Rachel and wept aloud. That is not how most men display their emotions these days. Jacob quickly fell in love with the shapely and beautiful Rachel and was willing to work seven years to gain her hand. A long time to be engaged. A long time to wait. Then the deception came, when Laban sent a different veiled daughter into the dark wedding tent. And the morning after, the bitterness began. A father had broken the hearts of both his daughters. Rachel’s sister bore children quickly, and even better during those days, Leah bore sons. Barren, Rachel was so jealous of her sister, she demands to Jacob, “Give me children, or I’ll die!” As if he could! There may be a bit of a drama queen coming out of the pretty girl, but again, infertility is a tough emotional journey for a woman. Like Sarah, Rachel took matters into her own hand, rather than trusting God, and she forced her servant to become a surrogate. (Surely, she’d heard the sad story about Hagar and Ishmael?) Yet, more sibling competition ensued. Leah followed that lead, giving a servant too. Finally, Rachel had a child, through God’s doing and not her own. Then Jacob began planning to take his family back home. Through fierce bargaining and God’s help, he finally gathers the large crew and his belonging and slips out of town. Only, Rachel decides to steal some of her father’s idols, bringing her father Laban hot on their trail. Then she lied and hid the things in a rather unsavory fashion. Of course, she’d learned trickery from from the best. Rachel’s last act in life was delivering another son, and the birth process literally killed her. I feel sorry for Rachel. She never seemed to be truly happy, despite her husband’s great love for her. One of the phrases I’ve tried to teach my kids and myself is: Joy should not be dependent on our circumstance. It’s not always so simple as it sounds, but life is much more tolerable when we allow God to be our source of Joy. What are your thoughts on Rachel? This week I'm highlighting my fellow Mississippi author and friend Stephenia H. McGee's free book! Check it out! Amazon   Here's Stephenia and I at one of our brainstorming sessions. Always plotting, ha!
I hope the month of August is a good one for you! Don't plant any strange seeds from the mail, LOL! As always, if you have a prayer request, send me a message on my contact form. Virtual hugs and blessings, Janet |
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