THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED . . . FOR A REASON!
Camping is not one of my favorite activities. My idea of
roughing it is a little more civilized. Like maybe a hotel with a complimentary
breakfast -- kind of like Bessie in my story Married By Mistake featured below. My family has a different opinion. My husband, Steve, is former Navy
stationed with the Marines, and used to the military’s version of camping. My
son sleeps outside in the backyard for fun. Since we live deep in the forest,
it’s not a stretch to imagine bears, raccoons, mountain lions, and other
wildlife. They are very real, present, and accounted for.
When Steve and I were first married, my mom and two of her
friends decided to go camping at Petit
Jean State
Park near Russellville,
Arkansas. Mom invited Steve and
me to go with them. Steve was all for it. And ready to leave, yesterday. I was
considerably less excited, but told Mom we’d be there, asked what we could
bring, and started praying for clean bathrooms and showers, without an army of
bugs and spiders spying on me as I shower.
I can’t remember whether we went to Petit Jean in the spring
or the fall. The temperatures weren’t hot during the day, but in the
comfortable range, and the nights were down-right cold. Mom had camp cots and
sleeping bags left from the days when we went camping for weeks every summer with
Mom’s and Dad’s friends. The ones that had the same “roughing-it-is-fun” idea
as my parents—and it was. Sometimes.
Anyway, we slept on cots. Mom, Steve, and I in the same
tent. Their friends had a small travel trailer which I thought probably beat cots
and tents in terms of amenities. I am more of a night owl while Steve is an
early bird. I stayed up late at night, reading by the lantern or talking with
Mom’s friends (also night owls) by the fire while Steve and Mom fell asleep
with the birds. Steve and Mom got up at some odd hour of the night when I was
still happily sleeping and started preparing breakfast and making plans for the
hiking we’d do later on the trails at Petit Jean. When breakfast was almost
ready, Steve came into the tent to wake me. He slid his icy hands into the
sleeping bag I was snuggled in and touched my feet. I sat bolt upright and said
“Get your cold feet off my warm hands!”
Steve about rolled with laughter. That was when he
discovered that when I first wake up, when my mind’s on something else, or when
I am exhausted, words and phrases come out in weird order. He already knew I
talk without words going through any sort of mental processing beforehand. My mouth opens and words emerge I have no
memory of saying. Like when we got engaged. We only knew each other two months.
We were right in the middle of a water gun fight in my apartment, and this is
where details get rather cloudy. I remember laughing. Racing to the sink to
refill the water guns. Both of us getting soaked. Then the mood changes. And he
stands there in all seriousness and says “Yes.”
Yes? Wait.
Obviously, I’d asked a question. But for the life of me, I didn’t have a clue
what words had exited my mouth. “What did I say?”
He’s still standing there, all serious, water gun angled
toward the floor. “You said, Marry me. I
accepted.”
I’m sure my mouth hit the floor and I got the
deer-in-the-headlights look. “No. I
didn’t mean that.”
He shrugs. “Too late. I already accepted.”
And so I found myself engaged. And two months after that,
married. We’ve been married close to thirty years now, so I believe God
proposed for us.
My children find my speech equally amusing and unsettling.
They are used to me saying weird things. Like, “Go see if there’s a mailbox in
the letters.” Or, “Get the refrigerator out of the carrots.” I’m also known to
get common sayings all mixed up and wrong. Unfortunately, my fingers have the
same problem as my mouth. Things come out wrong or without realizing I said
them. I claim it’s part of my Pennsylvania Dutch heritage—after all, I had to
go through speech therapy as a child due to the German way of saying certain
words. For example, the word “three.” My
family all said “Tree.” As in, “I ate tree cookies.” That wasn’t acceptable in
public schools. So I had to go to therapy to learn how to pronounce three. I
also know my family got their word order mixed up all the time, like I do. “Go
get the cookie jar out of the cookies.” All the people, in the Michigan community my
grandparents settled in after leaving the Amish (German settlers) spoke the
same way.
I had to learn to be completely reliant on God for words.
Pray often. When asked to speak in front of the church or at a library, I do
serious praying that the words will come out in the right order. After being laughed at a lot as a child, I
learned that silence is best. And unless I know someone and feel comfortable
around them, I remain quiet.
That is something I struggle with now. As a pastor’s wife,
as a homeschool mom, and as a writer, God is constantly forcing me out of my
comfort zone. Just like those long ago camping trips with my mom and dad, and –
later – Mom and Steve, I am out of my element when asked to speak at libraries,
in front of a church group, or at a ladies meeting. When asked to contribute to
blogs I struggle to come up with something valuable to say. I learned I do much
better when I give both the words that come from my mouth and the words that
come from my fingers completely over to God.
With my husband reminding me, “Breathe, breathe, breathe.
You got this.” As well as a lot of prayer, I have found that “I can do all
things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:13)
Hope for Happy Endings Is Renewed in Nine
Historical Romances
Meet nine women from history spanning from 1776
to 1944 feel the sting of having lost out on love. Can their hope for
experiencing romance again be renewed?
Love in the Crossfire by Lauralee Bliss - Trenton,
New Jersey, 1776
Gretchen Hanson watched her beau go off to war
and never return. She soon falls for an enemy scout who stumbles upon her farm.
If Jake is discovered, it could mean death for them all. Will Gretchen let go
of love or stand strong?
Daughter of Orion by Ramona K. Cecil - New
Bedford, Massachusetts, 1859
Whaling widow, Matilda Daggett, vows to never
again give her heart to a seaman. But when debt drives her to masquerade as a
cabin boy on a whaling ship, a young harpooner threatens both her vow and her
heart.
The Substitute Husband and the Unexpected
Bride by Pamela Griffin - Washington Territory, 1864
Cecily McGiver, a mail-order bride, arrives in
the rugged Washington Territory shocked to find herself without a husband—that
is until Garrett, a widower, offers to take the position. Can the challenges
that face them lead to love?
The Prickly Pear Bride by Pam Hillman - Little Prickly Pear Creek, Montana Territory,
1884
Shepherdess Evelyn Arnold left her intended
at the altar so he could marry the woman he really loved. Dubbed Miss Prickly
Pear, Evelyn is resigned to a loveless life and the ridicule of her neighbors.
When Cole Rawlins sweeps her out of a raging river, she realizes even a prickly
pear can find love.
The Widow of St. Charles Avenue by Grace Hitchcock - New
Orleans, 1895
Colette Olivier, a young widow who married out
of obligation, finds herself at the end of her mourning period and besieged
with suitors out for her inheritance. With her pick of any man, she is drawn to
an unlikely choice.
Married by Mistake by Laura V. Hilton - Mackinac
Island, 1902
When a plan to pose for advertising goes awry,
Thomas Hale and Bessie O’Hara find themselves legally married. Now Bessie and
Thomas must decide whether to continue the charade or walk away. Either choice
could ruin them if the truth gets out.
Fanned Embers by Angela Breidenbach - Bitterroot Mountains, Montana/Idaho
border, 1910
Stranded in the treacherous railroad camp after
her husband’s murder, Juliana Hayes has no desire to marry a ruffian like Lukas
Filips. Can she release prejudice to love again? Or will they even survive the
fiery Pacific Northwest disaster to find out?
From a Distance by Amber Stockton - Breckenridge,
Colorado, 1925
Financial Manager Trevor Fox sets out to find a
lady to love him and not his money, then meets and falls for an average girl
only to discover she’d deceived him to protect her heart after
he unknowingly rejects her.
What the Heart Sees by Liz Tolsma - Hartford,
Wisconsin, 1944
American Miriam Bradford is shocked to see Paul
Albrecht, her summer fling from Germany in 1939, escorted into church as a POW.
Can they rekindle their romance amid the overwhelming objections of almost
everyone in town–including her father?
Laura V. Hilton is an
award-winning, sought-after author with almost twenty Amish, contemporary, and
historical romances. When she’s not writing, she reviews books for her blogs,
and writes devotionals for blog posts for Seriously Write and Putting on the
New.
Laura and her pastor-husband have
five children and a hyper dog named Skye. They currently live in Arkansas. One son is in
the U.S. Coast Guard. She is a pastor’s wife, and homeschools her two youngest
children.
When she’s not writing, Laura enjoys
reading, and visiting lighthouses and waterfalls. Her favorite season is
winter, her favorite holiday is Christmas.
twitter:
@Laura_V_Hilton
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