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
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 RomancesMeet 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.
visit my
blogs: http://lighthouse-academy.blogspot.com/ & http://lauravhilton.blogspot.com/
twitter:
@Laura_V_Hilton
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/vernetlh/
Purchase my books:
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/laura-hilton?store=allproducts&keyword=laura+hilton
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2 comments:
Laura, I enjoyed reading this blog post--it brought smiles and chuckles. I've been known to turn words around also while saying something (I think we all do at times). Speech therapy--oh yes, I was there myself. I'm like you, camping is not really my thing--it takes so much time to pack up everything to even go.
The Second Chance Brides Collection sounds like a great novella collection. I have enjoyed everyone of your novellas and books. God bless.
I loved camping most of the time, but we always had campers. But one time we went camping and canoeing with my brother and sister-in-law in the Boundary Waters. The outfitter dropped us off at one point and ten days later picked us up at another. We had to travel 40 miles by water and portage to get to the pickup point. No cellphone service and we only saw two or three other people during that time. I was never so happy for a proper bath. It was the first thing I did when I got back to the hotel. There were times I wondered at God's wilderness, but there were many times I was miserable.
As far as sentence structure, I do think you can look to your Pennsylvania Dutch heritage. It sounds like you're melding the two: "From the cookie jar, get the cookies," and "Get the cookies from the cookie jar," becomes "Get the cookie jar from the cookies." Does that sound right?
I always enjoy your posts, Laura!
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