Emma stormed into the house, charged up the stairs to her room, and slammed her door. She never wanted to go back to church after what happened that morning. She grabbed her stuffed bear and rolled into a tight ball on her bed.
A few minutes later Gran knocked gently on the door and stuck her head.
“Emma, what is it, honey?”
“I'm never going back, Gran!” Tears were running over the bridge of her nose, making a big wet spot on her pillow.
Gran sat on the bed and smoothed Emma's hair away from her face. “What happened?”
Emma rolled over, still hugging her bear. “Stacey found a note she said was from me to Derek and she read it to everyone. I didn't write it; I would never write something so sappy. I've never been so embarrassed in my whole life, Gran. Derek was there and heard it.”
“Did you tell them you didn't write it?”
“Yeah, but Stacey waved the note and said it had my name on it. Gran, I can never face them again.” Tears trickled into her ears.
“You can and you will. If you fight this it will just make it worse, but if you go back with a smile and simply remind them that you didn't write it and move on, it will eventually be forgotten.”
Emma blinked fast, clearing her eyes. “You think so?” she asked hopefully.
“Do you think people will believe you or Stacey?
“Well, after her stunt last week, I don't think they trust her too much.” Emma sat up, her bear resting on her lap. “Why would she do that, Gran?”
Gran looked out the window before answering. “Think about her home life, Em. Since her dad left, her mom's had to work two jobs and she's not been around for Stacey. I think Stacey is trying to find attention and love, but she's going about it the wrong way. She doesn't realize she's driving away the people she wants and needs. What she did was wrong, but I think she just trying to get noticed.”
“I keep forgetting about her dad.” Emma hugged her bear tight. “She's not a mean person,” Emma said slowly and quietly, wrestling with her thoughts. “I think you're right. I think she needs friends and lots of love right now.” Taking a deep breath Emma looked at Gran. “She and I used to be friends, maybe we could be again. Do you think it would help her?”
“Can you forgive her for embarrassing you like she did?”
“If I'm gonna try to be her friend, I guess I better try, huh?”
That evening at church her friends were laughing and teasing her as they made her sit in the middle.
“Don't worry, Emma, we know you didn't write the note, you're not that sappy. After you ran out one of the girls grabbed the note and said it was Emma Landon's handwriting, not yours.”
Just then Derek sat down beside her and draped his arm around her. “I never knew you felt that way.” He winked and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “I wish you did, actually.”
Emma's eyes widened as she looked at him, then she quickly looked away as her face turned red.
Derek leaned close again, “Do you? Is that why you're blushing?”
Emma's face turned even redder and she turned away, hoping he wouldn't see it. She was saved by church starting. Later, as soon as the service ended, she jumped up to leave, but found her path blocked.
“Hey, Emma, a bunch of us are going for ice cream, wanna come with me?” Derek invited her.
Behind Derek, Emma saw Stacey duck her head and turn away, but not before Emma saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. Looking back at Derek she took a deep breath, “Sure, but can Stacey come with us?”
When Derek looked at her questioningly Emma smiled and quietly said, “She needs friends and love, Derek. Since her dad left she's been pretty much on her own and really needs us.”
A smile spread across Derek's face. “You're right. She was probably just trying to get attention this morning. C'mon, let's go get her and go out for ice cream. There's always room for one more, besides, without that note I wouldn't know you like me.”
Emma opened her mouth to protest but Derek laughed. “Don't worry, I've liked you for a long time, but never knew you liked me, too”
~*~*~*~*~*~
Today Sara is hosting Fiction Friday for us at Fiction Fusion. Be sure to join us there for links to more fiction!
Many times in my life things get twisted about and I end up on the wrong side of things. That's happened just recently and I quickly hit the frazzled stage. I was stuck in the got to camp, and life wasn't happy. Let me tell ya, my attitude didn't smell too sweet. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't good either. My husband was sweet enough to point out a difference between got to and get to and God reminded me of another difference.
I had let a privilege turn into duty simply because of using the wrong vowel. I was saying “I've gOt to do this” instead of “I gEt to do this”. And when it comes to the things that God has called us to do, we get to do them. We get to let God use us to accomplish His purpose. It's a privilege! If we get stuck on got to and never move back to get to, God just might use someone else and we'll be out a huge blessing.
Not only could we miss out on God's blessings because of our got to attitudes, but viewing things as got to's shows a spirit of not being thankful. God has done so much for me, exceedingly more than I could ever imagine or comprehend, that I should do the work He's called me to out of love for Him. I should let my service be an expression of love for God. Just like I do things for my husband and children simply because I love them, I should do things for God simply because I love Him.
Therefore, since we receive a kingdom which cannot be shaken, let us show gratitude, by which we may offer to God an acceptable service with reverence and awe; ~Hebrews 12:28
GOt to is serving God out of duty. GEt to is serving God out of love. The difference in the written word may be just a vowel, but the difference it makes in your heart is vital and invigorating.
These last two weeks I've rediscovered just how essential my daytimer is to my life--at least if I want my life to run smoothly. Without my daytimer open, filled in and close at hand I tend to wander aimlessly and forget more things than I remember. Little things, big things. My brain turns into a sieve and only holds whatever is right in front of me at the moment. It's not a good way to live. It leaves me feeling harried, stressed and scatterbrained. All of which are not things I like feeling!
So today I've pulled out my handy-dandy daytimer and I'll be filling in the things that need writing down and holding on to it, making sure it's close at hand. That's today's goal.
There's something even more important than my daytimer, though. It's my time spent in God's Word. Without that continual refreshment I become dry and dusty enough to rival the Sahara Desert. Without my time spent with God, I fall apart even more.
Summer schedules tend to trick us and make us think we can coast—and we can, for a short time. If we let ourselves coast for too long life goes downhill fast. My short time of coasting has come to an end. I may run a lighter schedule for another week or so, but I'm making sure the framework stays firm and that the essential things get done.
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This week's winner of Margaret Daley's book is Linda. In her comment Linda said, “Margaret is the lady who introduced me to the world of this genre of books by contacting me about being at the MOA in 2008. If not for her, I'd never have opened my horizon of books. She is one neat lady inside and out. Thank you, Margaret!” I've heard similar stories from others, also. What a great example and help she is to us! Thanks so much, Margaret. And congratulations, Linda!
Welcome to Fiction Friday! Today Cat is hosting for us on her blog A Work in Progress. Join us there for links to more fun fiction!
Berries for Stars Callie snatched off the towel that was wrapped around her waist like an apron and tossed it onto the plank that served as a table. As far as she was concerned, the cabin could burn to the ground and it would be no great loss. Lem had been so full of dreams of land and a mansion that she’d been caught up in his dreaming when she’d agreed to move West. So far, the only part of his dream to come true was the land; his mansion was barely a tiny cabin.
“Hey, Callie, where ya’ headin'?” Lem called from the lean-to where he dreamed a barn would someday be.
“East!” she hollered as she marched toward the creek.
“Darlin’, I hate to tell ya’ this, but that direction is west.” She could hear the smile in his voice and it made her grind her teeth. She’d had it with his ‘Ain’t this grand’ attitude. All she wanted was to go home. Home was where there were neighbors and friends, towns and stores.
Reaching the creek, she crossed it and quickly continued on, paying little attention to where she was going or how long she’d been walking. As her feet followed the creek she silently ranted at her husband, slapping branches and brush out of her way.
“Lan’ sakes, girl, ya’ better be careful. Ya’ jest ‘bout ripped yer hand on these here brambles.” The voice came from the depths of a berry patch.
“Goodness, you scared me!” Callie peered into the brambles and saw an older lady in a stained dress, berry bucket in hand. “Where did you come from?”
The other lady laughed. “Originally from Maryland, but thet was so long ago I cain’t hardly ‘member it. You must be Lem’s wife. He said you was mighty purdy, with red hair an’ all.”
“Yes, I’m Callie Stanhope, Lem’s wife.”
“Waal, Callie, it’s a pleasure to meet ya’. I’m Ida Mae Hiller an’ I was gatherin’ these here berries fer a pie. Elmer an’ me was gonna stop by fer a visit tomorra’.” Ida Mae carefully picked her way out of the berry patch and sat down on a log. “Why don’t ya’ sit down an’ tell me what’s botherin’ ya.”
Callie didn’t even stop to think, she just opened her mouth and let all the bottled up frustration pour out. She told Ida Mae about Lem’s dreams and the tiny cabin, about having to haul water from the creek and not having a proper privy.
Callie stopped pacing and propped her fists on her hips. “But you know what’s getting me the most?”
Ida Mae, being a wise woman, merely raised an eyebrow.
“Lem thinks everything out here is just grand. ‘Heaven on earth.’ That’s what he calls it. Can you believe it?”
Ida Mae smiled. “Yep, I surely can. My Elmer’s jest like yer Lem.”
“How can you stand it? Doesn’t it drive you crazy?” Callie sat down, her energy spent.
“Waal, it used ta, but it don’t no more.” Ida Mae watched carefully, gauging Callie’s response.
“Once we lived near an old lady named Myra. I remember tellin’ her how bad things were an’ she tol’ me I had mud in my eyes while Elmer had stars in his.” Ida Mae laughed.
Callie surprised herself by snorting. “Lem’s got stars in his eyes, all right.”
“Mmm hmm. Sounds like he does. Myra tol’ me a lil’ story, explainin’ how I got muddy eyes.” Ida Mae looked closely at Callie. “Ya’ wanna hear it?”
Callie smiled weakly, too polite to say ‘no’ since Ida Mae had so patiently listened to her.
“Two men looked out from prison bars, one saw mud, the other saw stars.”
Callie just sat and stared at her, dumbfounded. “That’s it? That’s all there is to the story?”
“Yep. Thet’s it. Two men looked out from prison bars, one saw mud, the other saw stars.”
Callie looked at the creek and her shoulders slumped. Ida Mae could see the battle raging inside her, but turned and sat quietly watching the creek, letting Callie work it out on her own.
“Ok. I get it. If I want to see more than mud I’ve got to look at the stars, too.” Callie pushed to her feet once again. “Those sure are beautiful berries. Back home was so crowded there were no berries. Some berry preserves would be wonderful on biscuits.”
Ida Mae chuckled. “Berries for stars; thet’s good. Keep thet up and you’ll have stars in yer eyes, too.”
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This is the first historical piece I wrote for Faithwriters and I found I loved writing it as much as I love reading it.
Also, this week's author spotlight is on Margaret Daley. Be sure to leave a comment to be entered in the book drawing!
This week's author interview is with Margaret Daley, who is an amazing lady.
Margaret is giving away a copy of her book, so be sure to leave a comment on this post or yesterday's, with your email addy so I can track you down if you're the winner. The book drawing is open until Saturday evening and I'll announce the winner on Sunday.
Margaret, which character in Second Chance Family most interested you while you wrote and why? Whitney Maxwell most interested me because she went through so much personal growth during the book, especially from when she was introduced in the book before, Family Ever After. I love how she discovered the power and love of the Lord.
Which of your books was the most fun for you to write and which character is your favorite? Heart of the Amazon is the one I had the most fun writing because I love books about the jungle. The story is like African Queen meets Romancing the Stone. It’s a romantic suspense with a strong adventure element. I love reading books like that.
That sounds like my kind of book, Margaret! =) What is your most difficult writing obstacle, and how do you overcome it? Description. I have to go back in and layer it into my story. I like a fast read, and I often don’t read description so therefore I have to force myself to write it.
Are there certain foods or snacks keeps the words flowing for you? No, usually I don’t eat when I’m writing, but I will have a drink—often tea.
Tell us the range of the kinds of books you enjoy reading. I love to read romantic suspense, adventures, thrillers, mysteries, romance, both contemporary and historical and even fantasy and science fiction. I don’t care for women’s fiction and chick-lit.
What would be your dream vacation? Going back to Tahiti and lying on a beach on Bora Bora. It’s a gorgeous place and the people are so nice. If not there, I’d love to visit Australia and see all the unusual animals there.
Oh, Tahiti sounds lovely! I hope you get to go back some day! Are there spiritual themes you like to write about? I often write about forgiveness and trust. Sometimes I also write about guilt and how people allow it to run their lives.
What lesson is the Lord teaching you right now or has recently taught you? To follow His will—his plan is the best.
When is your next book due out and can you tell us about it? The fifth book in the Fostered by Love series (Second Chance Family is the fourth one) is Together for the Holidays. It is Lisa’s story and will be out in November 2009.
Back cover blurb for Together for the Holidays: A single mother with a traumatic past, Lisa Morgan only wants to raise her son with love and values. But lately the boy is struggling. When his basketball coach becomes a reluctant role model, Lisa is relieved. Until she learns that David Russell is also a cop. She’s not ready to share her past—or her heart. And neither is the world-weary detective. Yet as Christmas comes closer, the true meaning of the holiday brings them together in ways they never dared dream.
Second Chance Family can be purchased from your local stores (like Wally World!) or from Amazon, CBD and for your Kindle.
You can keep up with Margaret through her web site and her blog.
Thank you so much for being here this week, Margaret. Not only do you write wonderful books, but you do so much for other writers--you're truly an inspiration. Thank you.
Don't forget to leave a comment to be entered in the book drawing!
Today is a triple header--I'm also posting at Exemplify about listening to the corn grow AND I'm At the Well with a devotional about defrosting your life. I'd love to have you stop by over there!
I'd like to introduce you to another incredible lady, Margaret Daley. Last week was a blur for me. Between running kids here, there and yonder and making sure all three of them had everything they needed for World Changers, I completely forgot about getting interview questions to Margaret. Completely forgot. I remembered late Saturday night, and Sunday morning, when my van played its one and only temperamental card leaving me stuck at home instead of going to church, I emailed her, apologizing. She said to send the questions through--and had them back to me that afternoon or evening. On top of everything else she does. Thank you, Margaret!
Margaret is giving away a copy of her novel, so be sure to leave a comment for her, with your email addy so I can track you down if you're the winner. The book drawing is open until Saturday evening and the winner will be posted on Sunday.
Margaret Daley is an award winning, multi-published author in the romance genre. One of her romantic suspense books, Hearts on the Line, won the American Christian Fiction Writers’ Book of the Year Contest. Recently she has won the Holt Medallion, Golden Quill Contest, FHL’s Inspirational Readers’ Choice Contest, Winter Rose Contest, and the Barclay Gold Contest. She wrote for various secular publishers before the Lord led her to the Christian romance market. She currently writes inspirational romance and romantic suspense books for the Steeple Hill Love Inspired lines. She has sold sixty-five books to date.
Margaret is currently the Volunteer Officer for ACFW. She was one of the founding members of the first ACFW local chapter, WIN in Oklahoma. She served as vice-president for two years in WIN-ACFW and is still on its board as an advisor. She has taught numerous classes for online groups, ACFW and RWA chapters. She enjoys mentoring other authors.
Until she retired last year, she was a teacher of students with special needs for twenty-seven years and volunteered with Special Olympics as a coach. She currently is on the Outreach committee at her church, working on several projects in her community.
You can visit her web site at http://www.margaretdaley.com and read excerpts from her books and learn about the ones recently released and soon to be released.
Dedicated teacher Whitney Maxwell gave up her dream of a family years ago. But she's about to get a lesson in faith and family from an unexpected source—a brave little boy named Jason. Jason and his dad are dealing with his autism the best they can, but Dr. Shane McCoy can't put his tragic past behind him. As Whitney and Shane work together to help his son, could these two lost souls open their hearts to love again and become a lasting family?
Second Chance FamilyExcerpt:
This is not negotiable. My son will attend your school, starting this Thursday." After dealing with a suicidal teenage girl most of the night, Dr. Shane McCoy didn't need this.
"We aren't equipped to deal with him. Jason should go to Eisenhower Elementary where there's a class for children like him," the principal said in a tight, highly controlled voice.
The woman's last sentence shredded what composure he had. Pacing his bedroom, Shane plowed his fingers through his hair and tried to remain calm. He gripped the phone. "You've known he would attend for months."
The rumble of thunder in the distance drew him toward an upstairs window at the front of his house. Jason didn't do well in thunderstorms. Please, Lord, don't let it rain— not today. He drew back the drapes and searched the sky. Dark clouds raced toward the east, away from his house.
"We've tried to find the right staff to handle your son, but…" The woman paused, taking a deep breath.
Jason appeared on the sidewalk leading from his house.
What was he doing out front? Going to get the newspaper for Aunt Louise?
"But there aren't—" the woman continued on the other line.
When his son ignored the paper lying in the grass, concern shot through Shane. He hurried toward his door. "I'll be there for the meeting this afternoon. I've got to go," he said, and clicked off the cell phone.
Am I making a mistake?
As the question intruded into Whitney Maxwell's mind, her long hair whipped across her face, momentarily obstructing her view of the street she drove down.
"Jason! Stop!"
To the right of her someone's frantic tone pierced the early morning air. Whitney fought the wayward strand, finally managing to hook it behind her ear at the same time her gaze riveted to a sudden movement. A child disappeared between two parked vehicles ahead of her, a second later reappearing in the path of her car as he raced across the road.
Clenching the steering wheel of her convertible Volkswagen vehicle, she jerked to full attention and slammed on the brakes. Not soon enough.
Without thought Whitney swerved her VW to the right. Into a big SUV. The sound of crunching metal drowned out the thundering of her heartbeat in her ears. When she was thrown forward, her seat belt halted her progress. The strap cut into her chest, disrupting her shallow breaths.
Almost to the other side of the street near a yellow trash can, the little boy stopped, pivoted and came straight toward her. When he reached the crash, he slid his hand over the smashed hood of her car, his gaze glued to it.
"Jason! Jason!" the woman screamed, her view blocked by the big SUV.
The little boy looked up, cocked his head, then whirled around and ran back the way he came—straight into the arms of the older woman who rushed between the parked vehicles. Whitney stared into the lady's pale face as she quaked and hugged the child to her.
Everything happened so fast—only seconds—that Whitney's head spun. Her hands shaking, she fumbled for the handle. She shoved the door open, swung her legs to the pavement and stood.
The thought of the near miss shuddered through her. Her legs weak, she started to sink and clutched the car to steady herself. She needed to check on the little boy and the older woman, but her whole body quaked. Drawing in several stabilizing breaths, she made her way to the pair now on the grass between the sidewalk and the street.
The older woman, tears in her eyes, held the child away from her. "Jason, you cannot run out into the street."
"Like yellow."
Yellow? What's the child talking about?
"Wanted to touch. So pretty."
Whitney glanced toward the trash can then at her yellow Volkswagen car. Her steps faltered at the implication of what could have happened. Thankfully she'd only been going twenty-five miles per hour because the child had been oblivious to the danger involved, and yet he appeared to be at least six or seven years old.
The sounds of a slamming door and pounding footsteps nearby drew Whitney's focus toward the house in front of her. A large man, over six feet tall, jogged across the lawn toward them. His intense gaze first took in the child and woman, then slipped to Whitney hovering a few feet from the pair. It skimmed down her length before moving away. When his appraisal connected with her Volkswagen bug, a frown carved hard lines into his face.
"Aunt Louise, what happened?"
"Jason—" the older woman whimpered the name, tears streaking down her face as she clung to the child. "He— he…"
After patting the woman and whispering, "It's okay. I'll deal with this," the man fixed his gaze on Whitney and strode toward her. "What happened?"
His question frosted the air between them. She straightened, her hands clenched at her sides. "The little boy ran out into the street from between these two parked cars." She gestured toward the vehicles. "I had to swerve to avoid hitting him."
His color drained from his face. He glanced over his shoulder at the boy and the older woman. The child tried to pull from her embrace, his arm outstretched toward Whitney's VW "Aunt Louise, can you take Jason inside? I'll be there in a minute." When the pair was on the porch, the man turned back to Whitney. "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" His cultured voice held a smooth, calmer tone, meant to put a person at ease. Concern—directed totally toward her— darkened his green eyes.
"Better than my car." She flipped her quivering hand toward her convertible. "I ran into someone's SUV. I—"
"Don't worry about that. It's mine. Cars can be fixed much easier than people." He walked toward the back of his vehicle and examined the damage. When he looked at hers, he whistled. "Yours will be more involved."
"Yeah. It's sorta like a beetle slamming into a wall." Where was she going to get the money to pay for this?
Even if the man could take care of his SUV, her car repairs would cost a lot and with a five-hundred-dollar deductible—money she didn't have—she had no answer. She would not accept any more help from her older brother. She'd always managed to make her way in the world by herself. She wasn't going to let this change that. She would figure out something.
After rounding the back of her vehicle and inspecting the crash from all angles, the man came back to her side. "I see what you mean. I'll take care of your car."
"No, I crashed into your SUV."
"But if you hadn't reacted quickly, my son would have been hit. I owe you. I'll take care of it." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. "Shane McCoy."
"I'm Whitney Maxwell." His warm, firm clasp conveyed a man who took charge of situations and solved problems. Her defenses quickly went up.
"Noah's sister?"
"Yes, you know my brother?"
"I've been working with Stone's Refuge ever since it began. And since he's on its board, we've gotten to know each other these past few years."
Now that she was thinking somewhat rationally, she remembered Noah talking about a Dr. McCoy seeing some of the kids who lived at Stone's Refuge, a place for foster children who needed help. "You're the child psychologist." Then she recalled her brother mentioning how much Dr. McCoy had helped his adopted son. "The one who worked with Rusty."
"Your brother was the best thing that happened to Rusty."
"I think my nephew would agree. Noah's taken to being a dad." Although she had discovered she loved children since returning to Cimarron City, she never saw herself as a mother. She never wanted to disappoint a child like she had been.
"Come in and I'll call a wrecker to take your car to a shop I know that does excellent work for a fair price."
Shane McCoy had everything figured out. She fortified her defenses. "I'll drive my car to school and come up with something."
He shook his head. "That car isn't going anywhere without a wrecker."
Whitney did her own examination of her VW and noticed the front hood was crumpled into her right tire. He was correct. Although the school was about two miles away, maybe she could walk and still make it on time. She glanced down at her watch and winced. That wasn't an option if she wanted to be on time or at least only a few minutes late.
"You mentioned driving to school—the university?"
"No, Will Rogers Elementary School."
"You're a teacher there?"
"A teacher's assistant." If all her plans worked out, she would be a teacher in three years.
"My son starts kindergarten there on Thursday. We've been marking off the days until school starts. So since I was going there this morning anyway to show Jason around before the meeting there this afternoon, I can take you. That's the least I can do."
She looked down at the damaged hood. "Fine, but I need to call a wrecker then the school to let them know I'll be a few minutes late." She hated being late her first day on the job, but there was just so much help she would accept from Shane McCoy.
"Are you sure I can't arrange for a wrecker to take your car to Carl's Body Shop?"
"I'm sure." If she had been paying better attention instead of looking for Zoey Crandell's house, maybe she would have seen the child racing across the lawn toward the street. But ever since she'd made the decision to move out of her brother's guesthouse, her attention had been focused on finding an apartment, and Zoey's sounded perfect for her.
"You can call inside while I prepare Jason to leave now."
"Prepare?" slipped out before Whitney could stop it. Jason didn't act like a normal kindergartner. What was wrong with him?
"It won't take long. I just have to prepare my son for something a little different. He already knew he was going to the school today." Shane started for the large Victorian house, stopped and said, "My aunt makes a great cup of coffee. Would you like some?"
"That sounds good." Whitney reached into her VW and grabbed her purse and the classified section of the newspaper she'd brought with her. Peering at a circled ad, she noted the address she'd been searching for and the reason she was on this particular street. "Do you know Zoey Crandell?" she called out to Shane...
Second Chance Family can be purchased from your local stores (like Wally World!) or from Amazon, CBD and for your Kindle.
You can keep up with Margaret through her web site and her blog.
Tomorrow is the interview Margaret graciously did for us. Don't forget to leave a comment to be entered in the book giveaway!
Today is Monday Manna at An Open Book and Joanne gave us another short verse that packs a whallop.
Act as free men, and do not use your freedom as a covering for evil, but use it as bondslaves of God. ~1 Peter 2:16
This verse seems to be the culmination of several verses just above it...
But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God's own possession, so that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; ...Keep your behavior excellent among the Gentiles, so that in the thing in which they slander you as evildoers, they may because of your good deeds, as they observe them, glorify God in the day of visitation. ~1 Peter 2:9, 12
We are God's people. Our lives are to proclaim Christ. We are to live above reproach. Our lives are to glorify God.
Yes, it's true, we no longer live under the law, but rather under grace, but that doesn't mean we can use it as a blanket excuse for doing things we shouldn't. Just because the Bible doesn't say 'thou shalt not' do a certain thing, doesn't mean that it's okay for us to do all things. We have to look and see what the Bible tells us to do and how we're to live our lives. We are not free to do anything we want.
What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase? May it never be! How shall we who died to sin still live in it? ~Romans 6:1-2
In our freedom (provided through Christ's death, burial and resurrection) we are to give our lives totally to God. We are to willingly and joyfully become His bondslaves. Jesus did not die so we could go on our merry way claiming His grace and mercy as an excuse for our selfishness and self-centeredness. He freed us from our sin so that we could live our lives in such a way that God is greatly glorified. Always.
A life lived out of love for God will glorify God.
If a behavior or action will not glorify God, we shouldn't do it. How do we know what will glorify God? By being in His Word on a regular basis and by living in a state of constant communication with Him.
Use your freedom to live for God and to be a willing and joyful bondslave of God.
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Emma stormed into the house, charged up the stairs to her room, and slammed her door. She never wanted to go back to church after what happened that morning. She grabbed her stuffed bear and rolled into a tight ball on her bed.
