Why did you write a book?

 

My granddaughter asked me, “Why did you write a book?”

I told her people lived in my head. Her look said more than I’m willing to address here. It was the same look I gave when Haley Joel Osment announced in the movie, “The Sixth Sense” . . . “I see dead people.”

Trust me, writing a book is a huge endeavor. Finding time to write a book is near to impossible. My family comes first. Teaching Bible study classes and preparing for them comes second. Then there are friends and volunteer positions and housework and cooking . . .

So why in the world did I undertake such a monumental task as writing a book? The truth?

The characters would not leave me alone!

The year before I actually began writing the book, the characters were already dancing around in my head. I knew them. They were a mixture of people I had met and known. Some I lived next door to, some I worked with and others I observed from afar. I knew the places they went, and the areas of town they lived in. I knew how they talked, and the things rolling around in their heads. It was maddening!

Then one thing happened that drove me to put my hands on the computer and begin writing. On a car trip from Eastern North Carolina to California last year, I honed in like radar to things that caused me to pause. Things I read in the newspaper. Things on TV. I began asking people about them. No one seemed the slightest disturbed. I was appalled.

When we got to Henrietta, Oklahoma, we witnessed a scene out of a horror movie. No one did anything. I mean no one. We all stood wide-eyed, unable to move, and not knowing what to do. It was evil, pure evil. My skin crawls just thinking about it.

Years ago I sat with my grandmother and we’d watch old movies. One of her favorite was “The Russians Are Coming!” We laughed at how naïve the people were – how gullible or stupid they seemed to be. Yeah, I know. It was a comedy. But had it been real we would not be flying the red, white, and blue.

I’m beginning to feel we are becoming anesthetized to bad news. We hear it ad nauseam. Killings. War. Pornography. Child Abuse. Animal Abuse. Political lies. Economic disaster. Cheating. Scheming. Human Trafficking. And the list goes on and on.

No, I’m not a negative person, at all. But I do not want to be caught unaware to the trappings of evil in this world. We have to keep our eyes open and our ears pitched to hear. We cannot delude ourselves that we are protected in America when in actuality we are targeted by some of the most violent groups of killers in the world.

No, I did not write a Jihadist or ISIS book. I wrote about being aware of the evil that is present in our everyday lives. If Jesus talked more about Satan and Hell than heaven, we had best take note.

One particular incident on our trip out to California got me off my duff. The characters won. Cries of Innocence is their story. It is fictional. It is a cry for each of us within our normal day to live victorious in Jesus, but understand we live in a world of sin and evil.

 

 

First Review for Cries of Innocence

This week I wrap up the final preparations for releasing my Christian Fictional novel, Cries of Innocence. Over the next few blogs, I want to expose the things that drove me to write the book. I won’t give away so much you’ll refuse to read it, but enough to entice you to pick it up.

This is the first review from Reader’s Favorite. It got a five out of five rating. Yes, I cried and thanked God, not only for His support, leading me to the perfect scripture, but also keeping my strength up for the seven months it took to write the book.

 Reader’s Favorite Review:

Angela Beach Silverthorne writes an exceptional Christian novel in Cries of Innocence. Bren is seventeen, a senior in high school, and she just made cheerleader! Life should be good. However, Bren faces tremendous life challenges. Her father is abusive and the town drunk. Most believe that her grandmother, GG, is stranger than strange – possibly a witch. To top it off, her boyfriend is a jerk! She can’t wait to escape her life, small town, reputation, and go away to college. In an instant, everything goes crazy. Bren finds herself running for her life, into a life she never knew existed. Hiding out at “The Haven,” she is exposed to the Truth. “The whole idea of God is a fantasy,” right? Bren has a lot to learn. Before she can stop and even ponder it all, Bren gets a crash course in her family’s mysterious history. All that she thought she knew soon proves to be wrong. Evil has raised its ugly head. The battle rages. Hearing the cries of the innocent, Bren discovers she is a part of something much bigger than herself. She must become a beacon of light in a very dark world.

Cries of Innocence takes you on a mysterious journey into the world of the warring believer. Angela Beach Silverthorne pens a story that reveals the power of prayer against the despotism of evil. Her writing style is profound, the word usage is rich and meaningful. At times, the imagery is deeply poetic. The characters are not self-righteous, flowery or pious. They are depicted as real people, trying to live and understand their God-given gifts. Likewise, the villainous characters are legitimately diabolical. With patience and intrigue, Silverthorne nudges the reader, enticing you into the plot. As the plot’s action ascends to its climax, the pace increases. Then at the precise pivotal point, Silverthorne plunges the reader into an adrenaline surging battle and slaps you in the face with a few shocking surprises. Cries of Innocence undeniably reveals the realities of spiritual warfare. However, it leaves the reader feeling victorious, knowing the truth - light always dispels darkness.

 

God bless you all!

Memorial Day: Honoring and Celebrating

 

Memorial Day is a national holiday to celebrate and honor those men and women who have died while serving their country in the armed forces.

Family and friends gather together across the nation to remember those loved ones, friends, and acquaintances who have bravely given their lives to protect and serve the United States of America.

As you come together in celebration of our national heroes, here are a couple of dishes I’d like to share with you. God bless America! God bless you!

 

Pulled Pork –everyone has their favorite recipe. This is mine. See pictures below the recipe.

2 Boston Butts or picnics, about 8-10 lbs each, rinse and dry, set aside

Crisco No-Stick Spray

Olive Oil

 

Spray the bottom and sides of a pan(large enough to hold both pieces of meat) with Crisco Spray. The pan has to be deep enough to accommodate the juices the meat will release – about 4-5 inches. Next, line the pan with aluminum foil and Crisco it, too. Place the meat side by side in the prepared pan. Spread olive oil over the meat with your hand.

Dry Rub:

1 cup dark brown sugar

4 heaping tablespoons of Charlie Mills Famous Bar-B-Que Sauce Mix

½ teaspoon cumin, chili powder, and cinnamon

 Mix ingredients. With your hands, pack the dry rub around the meat, pressing it into the olive oil so that it will stick.

 

Wet Ingredients:

1 cup Apple Cider Vinegar

1 cup water

½ tsp liquid smoke

4-5 chips of mesquite wood

 

Mix and pour around meat. Cover with heavy duty aluminum foil.

Bake at 300 degrees until meat thermometer registers 190 degrees or cook about 1 hour per pound of meat.

Remove meat from oven. Leave aluminum foil on and wrap in a towel for one hour or until cooled.

Once cooled, pull the meat from the bones, discarding bones and excess fat.

 

Chop and put into a large bowl. Taste and season with salt, pepper, and hot pepper vinegar to your liking. I like to put it in the refrigerator overnight and reheat it the next day. Sometimes I bag it in quart size baggies and freeze it.

  

If you have any leftovers, here’s another great way to use pulled pork.

 

Pulled Pork Nachos

You can use a baked tortilla shell or tortilla chips as the base.

Layer on:

Refried Beans

Diced onion, tomatoes, and avocado

Cooked pulled pork

Chopped lettuce with fresh cilantro

Shredded Cheese

Have Salsa and Sour Cream on the side as a garnish.

 

Bonus Recipe: 9 Day Slaw:

16 oz. bag of slaw mix

Carrot sticks

½ green bell pepper, chopped

 

Put in bowl and set aside.

 

Mix:

1/3 cup sugar

1/3 cup vegetable oil

1 teaspoon whole mustard seeds

1 teaspoon salt

Pepper to taste.

 

Put this into a pan and bring to a boil. Immediately pour over slaw mix. Refrigerate up to 9 days!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Pause

 

Pause.

(The only time I do this is when I walk into a room and stare, forgetting what I went there for.)

Pause.

(My yoga instructor said to go into a relaxation pose, close your eyes, and settle into the moment. I closed my eyes and got so uncomfortable I kept peeking to see if anyone was actually resting.)

Pause.

(My husband asks me if I think he’s still handsome, and I pause. Not because I don’t think he’s handsome, but it feels like a set-up.)

Pause.

Okay, you got it. I’m not comfortable with a pause. A deliberate pause causes me to feel I should be doing something. I mean what do you do with a pause, deliberate or not. It feels like an eternity of waiting . . . for what?

Silence can do the same thing. Isn’t that the most uncomfortable thing in the world? All I do is keep thinking about what I need to be doing. My mind goes into multiple tangents and vivid colors.

But not anymore.

For the last year, I have been purposing myself to pause, sink into silence, and meditate. There is no doubt that it has made a tremendous impact on my overall well-being. It is restorative, rejuvenating, and reclaiming. When my yoga instructor tells us to recline in a corpse pose, I flatten out, take two deep breaths, and clear out all the clutter and mess I’ve stored in my head. It exits just like when I hit the delete button on the computer. Gone!

Then I made another outstanding discovery. You don’t need to go to a yoga class to push the world away and refresh. Over the last year, I’ve had a lot of things happen that were unsettling. Rather than brew or become overly concerned, I’ve sought God in the essence of a sacred pause and silence.

I used the word reclaiming above. In the presence of holy moments, God helps you reclaim the joy to persevere through any concern you might have. You find Him in the pause.

The April 2015 issue of All You, capitalized on this idea in the article, “How I Overcame My Fear”. Lovelyn had been affected her whole life with fear because of a devastating car accident she witnessed as a child. It was through meditation that she reclaimed her life. The fear lost its foothold in her life, and she was able to do things she hadn’t done in years.

Pause. Silence. Meditation. These are wonderful measures we can capitalize on – gifts from God to help us with the pressures, strongholds, and temptations that we struggle with. It’s a way to “let it go!”

God bless you!

Abundant Strawberries

 

Strawberries are in! I couldn’t help myself; I had to post my two new strawberry cake recipes that are scrumptious!!! They are very similar, but different enough to try both. The second cake recipe is the one I took to the May Pamlico Emmaus Gathering.

Dummy me forgot to take a picture of my own cake; so, I had to use the one off the website where I got the recipe. God bless you! Enjoy!

Strawberry Cake

1 Box White Cake Mix

1  3 oz. box strawberry jello mix

4 eggs

1 cup vegetable oil

¼ cup water

Mix the above ingredients well.

Puree 1 pint strawberries and add to mixture.

Bake in 9” X 13” glass cake pan at 350 degrees for ~30-33 minutes.

ICING:

4 oz. cream cheese, softened

1/3 cup butter, softened

2 cups powdered sugar

1 teaspoon vanilla

1 Tablespoon milk

Mix icing ingredients. Frost cake and garnish with strawberries.

 

Strawberry Sheet Cake

Cake:

2 cups self-rising flour

2 cups sugar

4 eggs

1 cup canola oil

1 cup buttermilk

¼ cup mashed, sweetened strawberries

1 small box dry strawberry jello

Mix all ingredients together and pour into a greased 9”X13” pan. Bake 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes or until toothpick comes out clean.

ICING

½ stick margarine, softened

3-4 cups powdered confectionary sugar

¼ cup mashed sweetened strawberries

Mix ingredients until smooth. Store in refrigerator until ready to frost cake.

Refrigerate cake until ready to serve.

Even the Strongest Believers Question at Times

 

Hard questions.

“My daughter just blurted out that she was questioning if God really exists.”

“My son just told me that he was a nonbeliever.”

“My teacher said that God wasn’t real.”

When someone presents these kind of questions to you, how do you respond? Do you have scripture on the tip of your tongue? Do you react by refuting the idea? Do you sit in silence not knowing what to say?

Elisabeth Elliot said, “Faith does not eliminate questions. But faith knows where to take them.”

Elisabeth implies, or so I assume, that we know where to find answers to life’s questions. We go directly to the source, God’s Word. And that’s certainly valid. However, if you’re not a student of scripture or familiar with the varying themes, this answer might seem daunting.

As Christ followers, we want to be able to validate the One whom we love. But how?

“Christ has no body on Earth but yours, no hands but yours, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which Christ’s compassion for the world is to look out. Yours are the feet with which He is to go about doing good, and yours are the hands with which He is to bless us now.” (St. Teresa of Avila)

Of all the things we could do or say, I believe our lives speak volumes about where our faith lies and who the cornerstone of our faith is. We do this by living intentionally for Christ and trying to be like Him.

 “Most assuredly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to My Father.” (John 14:12)

Now, let me clarify something. We are not saved by our works, but we are saved for works. Our works are a manifestation of our love for Jesus. We do because we love Him. It’s as natural a response as drinking the water God provides to quench our thirst.

“For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto but to minister and to give life a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45) Throughout the scripture, Jesus showed us example after example on how to live. The word “follow” and “serve” become a way of life.

Okay, I apologize. In the middle of writing this post, my fifteen-year-old granddaughter texted me, asking me to listen to Eric Church’s song, “Like Jesus Does”. Maybe this is the very example Jesus wanted me to use for this post. There’s no doubt that people in our culture are starving for affection and validation. The very thing Jesus did so well is the very thing that will lead more people to believe in Him. Pouring out my love on others to show the passion in my heart for the Father might be the most powerful way to demonstrate that our God lives! God’s love is our template. The fruit of the Spirit is our behavior modifiers.

This song is a little crude, but the world is crude, unloving and questioning. Love them like Jesus does. He’d probably be at dinner with this man. You know that’s true!

"Like Jesus Does" by Eric Church

I'm a long-gone Waylon song on vinyl,

I'm a back row sinner at a tent revival,
But she believes in me like she believes her Bible,
And loves me like Jesus does.

 

I'm a lead foot leaning on a souped-up Chevy,

I'm a good old boy, drinking whiskey and rye on the levee,
But she carries me when my sins make me heavy,
And loves me like Jesus does.

 

All the crazy in my dreams,

Both my broken wings,
Every single piece of everything I am,
Yeah, she knows the man I ain't,
She forgives me when I can't,
The devil, man, no, he don't stand a chance,
'Cause she loves me like Jesus does.

 I always thought she'd give up on me one day,

Wash her hands of me, leave me staring down some runway,
But I thank God each night, and twice on Sunday,
That she loves me like Jesus does.

 

Yes, she knows the man I ain't,

She forgives me when I can't,
That devil, man, he don't stand a chance
She loves me like Jesus does.

Rose for Mother's Day

Today I was going through a folder of articles that I had saved. At the back was the following story. It touched my heart. Don’t be dismayed at the ending. It’ll give you an opportunity to imagine what happened next. I’m always filled with hope.

A Rose for Mother’s Day

Danielle stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to her mother who lived two hundred miles away. As she got out of her car, she noticed a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing.

She asked the girl what was wrong and she replied, “I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother, but I only have seventy-five cents. A rose costs two dollars.”

Danielle smiled and said, “Come on in with me. I’ll buy you a rose.”

She bought the girl a rose and ordered her mother flowers. As they were leaving Danielle offered the girl a ride home.

“Yes, please! You can take me to my mother,” she stated.

Directing the woman to a nearby cemetery, the young girl led her down a narrow lane, asking her to stop when they reached a small marble tombstone. The girl got out of the car and rushed over to place the rose on a freshly dug grave.

Seeing her shoulders heave in sorrow, Danielle got out of the car, and walked up to the child. Not knowing how to help or what to do, she stood in silence. Glancing at the words on the tombstone, her heart sank.

                        Mary Lou Jenkins

                        Mother to the Motherless.

 

The woman stooped down next to the child, placing her hand on the youngster’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Was this your mother?”

The young girl looked up at Danielle. Tears streamed down her face. “Ms. Mary helped out at the foster home where I live. We all called her mother. Two months ago, Ms. Mary asked if I would like to be her daughter, but she got sick and died before she could adopt me. Ms. Mary will forever be my mother. Sunday is Mother’s Day. I had to get the rose for her.”

Danielle reached over and hugged the girl. Her heart felt burdened. Danielle and her husband had lost their only child many years ago. In fact, their child would have been about the age of this child.

Lifting the girl’s face she said, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s check in with your foster parent and see if you can have dinner with my husband and me.

Raising her arm up to wipe tears away, she smiled. “That would be great.”

“By the way, what’s your name?” Danielle asked.

“Emily.”

Danielle felt her heart sink. Her deceased daughter’s name was Emily. Not being able to say anymore, Danielle led Emily back to the car. From there, they drove to the foster parent’s home and got permission to take Emily to her home for dinner.

Joe met Danielle at the door, “I was getting worried about you!” Noticing the young girl beside her, he asked, “Well, who is this?”

Danielle pulled the child in front of her, announcing, “This is my new friend. We got permission from her foster mother for her to have dinner with us.”

Joe reached down, extending a hand of welcome. “Well, what’s your name, little one?”

“Emily.”

Joe looked up at Danielle in disbelief. Tears filled his eyes. And then he smiled.

********************************************************************************

 

God bless you. If your mother’s still living, call her. Go visit with her. Let her know you cherish her. If you know a child who has lost a parent, reach out to them. I’ve been honored to be called mother by many children who were not mine that have come into my home and felt loved.

From me to you, Happy Mother’s Day!!!

 

Salt Life

Yesterday I was behind a slow moving car, S L O W, I felt myself get edgy; I turned off the music because that was bothering me in this long drawn out drive to the grocery store to buy two items. (I hope that long sentence gave you the same feeling!)

Just as my left leg began to twitch, I noticed the words “Salt Life” on the back glass of the car in front of me. God punched me, and I stilled.

Salt Life.

Christians have a salt life. The Bible tells us we are the “salt of the earth”. As a cook, I know it doesn’t take a lot of salt to season the whole pot. I remembered my mother had on a pot of beef stew cooking and the aroma had filled the house with its savory scent. When Mama called me into the kitchen to help, it was not to fill up the bowls, but to grab four potatoes. The stew was too salty. She knew the potatoes would absorb the salt and make the stew more edible.

Have you ever been in a situation that was just “too salty” for your taste. I know I have. And I’ve been very uncomfortable.

Years ago in a writing class, a fellow writer chastised a woman for bringing in a Christian story, saying he was offended since he was an atheist. Several other writers began to grumble. But one lone person raised her voice high, “Well, if she can’t read her delightful stories of joy, I insist those of you who objected cannot read your stories of woe.” Everyone shut up. I found out later that the woman who took a stand was an elder in her church. She was the potato in an over-salted pot. Too much salt ruins the stew.

The presence of even one believer can hinder sin, delay judgment, prompt conviction, and extend the Kingdom of God. They can temper a situation.

In Acts 27, Paul and two companions were believers on board a ship during a violent storm. Through their words and faith in God, they saved 276 protesters who finally opened their ears to hear.

Think about the odds against Elijah on Mount Carmel. The odds were 450 to 1. That’s slim pickings! But one plus God is a mighty majority!!!

Salt life.

"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot.” Matthew 5:13

One life can season and change everything around them. Think about this. What pot do you need to season today? Your anger? Your self-doubt? Your unhappiness? Your lack of joy? Or is it someone you love? Do they need a little seasoning?

 

Life on Mission: A Book in Review

I read constantly: books, magazines, Bible studies, fiction, nonfiction, comics, cookbooks . . . well, you name it, I read it. Well, not everything. There is a lot of garbage, to put it plainly, coming out in book form and print. When I find a piece that feeds my soul and hits me between the eyes, I’ve got a winner and I want to share it.

My life has been changing as rapidly as my 15 year old granddaughter. This time it’s not hormonal, thank you, Jesus. But the feel is just about the same. To put it mildly, I am “clinging to the old rugged cross”. Truth. Honesty. Realism. And then I want it presented in ways I can press forward and use it.

Tim Harlow has nailed it! His book, Life on Mission, was a page turner and eye opener.

            Your mission if you accept it is to:

                        Connect

                        Serve

                        Share

                       Grow

                        Pray

Sounds simple? Well? Kinda. But, probably not.

It’s all about doing what Jesus did and said in The Great Commission. Jesus role modeled all these aspects. The King of kings rolled up His sleeves and went right in the middle of the mess and mire of this world to connect. Thieves. Money mongers. Prostitues. Lepers. Liars. You name it, He sought them out. But Jesus also pulled His sleeves down and met with members of the religious order, the wealthy, and ones who were just plain curious. Jesus always served others, shared, helped others grow, and prayed.

            Tim Harlow said, “We must return to the methods Jesus used and modeled for us in his ministry. Through a close study of the Gospels, we learn not only what Jesus did in His ministry, but also how he did it! In four passages of Scripture—Matthew 10, Mark 6, Luke 9, and Luke 10—Jesus gives us 15 specific instructions to the mission teams He sent out.”

Trust me, I could go on and on about the lessons I learned from the book on what Jesus needs me to be doing. I am so far from the challenge. One thing Harlow said hit me to the core. I always felt there was something lacking in me because I did not have a heart for foreign missions. Then Harlow quoted Mother Teresa, “I want you to be concerned about your next door neighbor. Do you know your next door neighbor?” My heart rejoiced.

I live in a Tier1 county. That means poverty. That means a lot of our kids go to school hungry. It means we have a lot of low income housing, people in debt, crime, drugs, and social unrest. This is where my heart is.

            Harlow says, “For some reason, we’ve bought into a church culture of “sending” missionaries and waiting for them to report back to us at home base. If we’re not careful, we run the very real risk of simply paying for mission elsewhere instead of engaging in mission right here. Clearly we can’t afford to do that anymore. We’re losing ground at home.”

I am on a mission. The harvest is ripe right here in my Jerusalem. I have a plan to connect, serve, share, grow, and pray. Will you pray for me? If you are in my area, will you join me? I won’t even mention what I will be doing. You must be curious enough to ask me. Sorry.

I want you to read Life on Mission. I want you to consume it like fruit of the Spirit. God needs boots on the ground, right here in the USA, and more importantly, right in your hometown!

Let me leave you with another quote from Tim Harlow. I hope it stimulates you to grab his book and get ready for the harvest! I hope this leaves a question in your heart to find out “the how”.

            “When I was younger, verses like this one from Matthew used to really freak me out: “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48 NIV). To a kid who has only perfected the art of getting in scrapes and terrorizing his younger sister, this sounds like a death sentence. You have got to be kidding me. Does being perfect include never getting grass stains on your Levis? If so, I am doomed to the fiery flames.

            I hope we’re all on the same page by now and understand that nothing but Jesus’ sacrifice is what yanks us out of hell by the scruff of our necks. And yet . .  .here we are, rubbing our necks, left to grabble with commands like this. Grow up. Be holy.

            How? Is it something we do, or is it something only God can do—or is it somehow, weirdly, both?”

God bless you all.