*

This contest is now closed. The winner of the Amish-made wall hanging is Marilyn of Catlettsburg, Kentucky.

Congratulations, Marilyn!

Orignal post:

Last Tuesday, President Obama’s inauguration reminded me of something I bought from an Amish friend of mine—an Amish-made American flag wall hanging.

If you’d like a chance to win this, just leave a comment below.

Last week, our youngest son was in the throes of that American tradition called Inauguration Day. He left the Friday night before and came home Wednesday at six a.m. We heard from him every day. He called for less than a minute each time—usually to assure us he was safe and having fun. Our favorite call from him was on Sunday morning, before seven a.m., asking me where I packed his tie.

“Uh, right where I showed you it would be . . . four times.”

It wasn’t easy helping him find it via phone. The room he was in was noisy, and he was a bit uptight—both of which made hearing me difficult.

The tie was tucked safely inside a hidden pocket of his new suit. I knew when we were packing his suitcase that in his excitement he wasn’t paying attention, so I showed him several times, and then I had his dad show him, and then I handed my son the jacket and had him locate the tie before the suit was packed.

He finally discovered it. His dad and I couldn’t help but laugh. Good thing the young man is cute!

I wonder, does President Obama have this kind of issue with his daughters? I would hope so, since they are years younger than my son. But our son’s deal is probably a case of “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Our youngest son is about as scattered and distractible as I was at his age. I couldn’t find the pencil I’d had in my hand two seconds earlier, but I could read a novel and never miss the faintest inferred emotion. I fought to concentrate in a classroom, but a parade could be happening around me once a book was open in my hand, and I never heard anything but the silent words on the page. My mother went with the flow, always curious who I’d grow up to be.

If you’d like to see a satellite image of DC during the inauguration, click

Inauguration Satellite View.

Very cool!

It’s time for me to get the next school subject taught and edit marketing blurbs my publisher sent last night, so I’ll leave you with a gentle reminder.

Please remember to pray for our president, for our leaders, and for our children. A favorite Scripture of mine is Psalm 127:1. “Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain who build it. Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman wakes in vain.”

On our own, we can do nothing that will grow the fruit we desire, but if we unite our efforts with faith in Him, He will build a house and keep watch over the city.

Em Gott sei Friede (God’s peace),

Cindy

P.S. We have a winner for the 2008 Amish-made quilt contest. Nedra Wright of Lawrenceburg, Tennessee is the winner. The 2009 Amish-made quilt contest has begun! Go to: Quilt Contest to enter.

The 2008 Christmas season gave its own special memories—times of laughter, excitement, peace, renewed faith, and tiresome duty. We shared times that were well-planned, spur-of-the-moment, and mundane. All of them too fleeting.

I have a lot of goals for 2009. Contracts to fill. Marketing to accomplish. School lessons to teach. Suppers to cook. Souls to feed. My soul to feed. There is no way to keep up with all I need to.

We all know the drill—prioritize, which feels like a euphemism for: make a list, make choices, make people angry.

Sometimes I long for the ease of days when infants wakened me in the middle of the night or when teen sleepovers never ended soon enough. Not that long ago, I homeschooled two middle-schoolers while nurturing a newborn into toddlerhood. Those middle-schoolers are men now—one married, one soon to be. And the once-toddler is studying for his learner’s permit.

Each Christmas season offers so many, many things and one of them is a reason to gather. It gives us festivities for renewing fellowships, and for making new as well as keeping old traditions. It allows us to embrace the very best of life in preparation for a year that is sure to have times of sorrow.

But whether the Christmas season was what you’d hoped it would be or not, the new year will keep marching on. And it’ll be filled with opportunities to try again, forgive, dream, work, and try again.

Happy New Day. Happy New Year!

Many have written asking for the large-print version of When the Soul Mends. I wish I could direct you to where it can be bought, but I’ve been told the large-print version will not be released until spring. For some, an audio version might be the answer they’re looking for.

If you’d like to view or order the audio version on Amazon, simply place your cursor over the correct CD and click.  

Our winners from the last blog contest is commenter number six, Christy, and commenter number twenty-six, Margaret. Congratulations to both Christy and Margaret! You’ve each won autographed copies of all three books in the Sisters of the Quilt series. The notification e-mails were sent last week, so I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon.

Although I’m not running a blog contest this time, I’d like to remind readers of the other contests I have going on.

The year-long quilt contest ends the last day of December 2008. Readers have a chance to win a gorgeous quilt made by Amish women. The money used to purchase the quilt goes to the yearly benefit for their community’s Amish school. You can enter yourself into the contest one time, and you can have a friend come by the site and enter their name and yours. One time per friend, please. If you have twenty friends come by the site, they can each enter their name and yours one time.

On that same contest page, (but for a separate contest) you can enter to win an autographed copy of When the Soul Mends.

The December issue of my newsletter, Plain News, also has a contest. The prize this time is a pair of hames with a quilt patch between each hame, (see photo below) which was made by an Old Order Amish friend of mine.

From time to time I hear from readers who ask if the newsletter is free, and if it is, why do I take the time to write them.

The newsletter is indeed free. It’s a great way for me to keep in contact with readers. It goes out four times per year, and is chocked full of things readers find informative and uplifting. 

Things the December newsletter has:
A welcome letter with a special insight for those caught in the downturned economy
A book signing
A true story about an Amish family
Hames contest
A few words from guest author Lauraine Snelling
Book suggestions from my agent, Steve Laube
Amish Christmas recipes for salt ornaments, blueberry French toast, and snow-top cookies
And a tidbit about how the Amish decorate their homes for Christmas

Steve Laube shares several great reads, one of which is about money and practical tips for the everyday person, and one is a book that will help the little ones in your life understand the reason for the season.

If you miss being signed up to receive the newsletter before its send-out date, you’ll receive an automatic welcome letter. It will have a link to the latest newsletter. Once you open the newsletter, be sure to keep an eye out for the “previous newsletter” link at the bottom of each edition, so you can read every issue.
I hope each of you have a blessed month! 

For those who receive my newsletter, you had the article ”Finding Hannah” enter into your inbox in September’s issue of Plain News.  As part of an invitation to those who don’t receive the newsletter, I’ve posted that article below.

Whenever I have the opportunity to mingle with readers, I’m surprised by the number of people who are unaware of the newsletter. So I’m giving it a plug on my blog

The newsletter, Plain News, receives great reviews. If you enjoy insights into the Amish life, I encourage you to join the newsletter. It only goes out four times per year, so you’ll look forward to it each time it enters your inbox. It’s FREE. This is my way of connecting with readers between book releases.

Things the newsletter has:
A welcome letter
Sneak peeks into upcoming novel releases
An itinerary (when appropriate)
Articles I’ve written on the Amish or some part of my writing life
Contests
Various tidbits about daily life for an Old Order Amish person
A few words from a guest author
And some good reads shared by my editor Shannon [Hill] Marchese

To sign up, go to: Plain News

Congratulations to all five winners of The Shape of Mercy blog contest: Kayren, Theta, SN, Susan, and Laura. They each won a copy of The Shape of Mercy and When the Soul Mends.

For a chance to win an autographed copy of all three books, just leave a comment below. I’ll draw two winners the last of November, and the books should arrive to the winner’s home in time for Christmas. If you own copies of the books already, you can give this set as a Christmas gift.

The contest is open to those in the Continental United States.

WARNING: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ WHEN THE HEART CRIES OR WHEN THE MORNING COMES, THE FOLLOWING ARTICLE “FINDING HANNAH” HAS PLOT SPOILERS. And if the formatting comes across wrong, I apologize. I’ve followed every rule to make the correct formatting post live and it seems it just won’t . . . so the blogging goes on.

Finding Hannah

While writing When the Heart Cries, I took a midnight Amtrak ride with my youngest son. We traveled for eighteen hours, going from my home state of Georgia to Pennsylvania, where we stayed for a few days with an Old Order Amish family. My aim was for taking the train was to enhance the scene I wrote at the end of that book, in which Hannah boards a train heading for Alliance, Ohio.
When the time came to write the next book in the series, When the Morning Comes, I expected my earlier traveling experience to be sufficient research for when Hannah stepped off that train. But when I tried writing the opening, it didn’t sound or feel the way I wanted it to. I’d write five chapters and delete five chapters, over and over again. I longed to feel and hear the events as Hannah would. It soon became clear that I needed to see and feel what she would when she stepped off that train.
I try to experience life as my characters would whenever possible. While writing When the Heart Cries, I spent a couple of days in a neonatal intensive care unit to get a feel for the frailty of a preemie. I went to Hershey Medical Center and spent time on the same floors my characters did when they were injured. I washed dishes by kerosene lamp, drove a horse and buggy, and used a wringer washer to do laundry alongside my Amish friends. Those experiences helped me to write scenes that would hopefully come alive in the minds and hearts of my readers.

But as I struggled to write the opening of When the Morning Comes, it dawned on me that although I’d experienced riding the rails, I needed to see the Alliance, Ohio, depot in person. So I made plans to board the Amtrak in Gainesville, Georgia, and change trains as needed until I landed in Alliance. I checked online to see how long the ride was and discovered that the train would arrive in Alliance around two in the morning. I could deal with that.

But as I attempted to finalize my itinerary, I kept hitting dead ends. I called Amtrak several times and spoke with different people as I tried to locate a cab company or bus line so I could get to a motel after arriving. No one was able to help me locate the needed information. I couldn’t chance landing in Ohio at two in the morning without a solid plan.

I told my husband something was amiss and we needed to drive there. Being the agreeable man I married thirty years ago, he took my word for it and made arrangements to take time off from work.

A few weeks later we pulled into the Alliance train depot. The night sky swirled with snow, but the thin white blanket couldn’t hide the eeriness of the rundown, abandoned building. A white-and-blue sign near the tracks indicated a pay phone. I climbed out of the car. Snow and gravel crunched under my feet as I walked toward the phone sign. The wind whipped through my coat as if it wasn’t there.

I reached the sign, but did not find a phone.

As I stood at that bleak, abandoned depot, Hannah’s life unfolded before my eyes.

By the end of our week’s stay in Alliance, I knew more than how a traumatized teenage Amish girl managed to survive away from her home, family, and community. I also knew who she became and why.

I found Hannah.

While I conducted my on-site research, Hannah’s world became clearer each day. I went to the hotel she stayed in during her second night in Alliance. The place truly is as I described it in the book, and I wasn’t brave enough to spend a night there.

Before my husband and I returned to Georgia, we drove from Alliance to “Owl’s Perch.” Owl’s Perch is the fictitious name of a real place in Perry County, Pennsylvania. I knew Hannah would drive there from Ohio several times in book three, When the Soul Mends, and I needed to take the route myself—with its toll roads, service plazas, and mountain tunnels. Although the roads themselves are not described in much detail in the third novel, Hannah’s feelings while she’s on those roads are an important part of who she is.

In When the Soul Mends, Hannah finds herself traveling from one world to another. Like most people, I find more than one world affecting my life. Whenever I spend time in the homes of Amish families, I can hear echoes from my own childhood, when the conflicting messages of acceptance and prejudice worked to separate my Amish-Mennonite friend and me.

These messages have been explored in the Sisters of the Quilt series, as readers journey with the Amish, Mennonite, and Englischer characters who are dealing with their hopes, desires, and faith as well as hidden prejudices and fears. Some of those characters find that God’s redeeming love is the one thread that has the strength to unite regardless of all else.

Whatever world Hannah found herself in throughout these three books, she had moments of understanding aspects of God, and those moments gave her strength and hope. In book one she discovered the concept of nevertheless—that if everything ended with God, then those who are in Him have a good ending eventually. In book two she realized that He is more powerful than any injustice in her life—past or future. And when she forgives herself or others, she’s trusting that nothing bad is more powerful than God’s ability to overcome it. In book three her journey leads her to realize that love is never perfect—not in her, nor in others—but love doesn’t have to be perfect when forgiveness is there to pick up the pieces.

Throughout this series, all three worlds—Amish, Mennonite, and Englischer—form the woman Hannah is becoming. It is my hope that you’ll take each part of this journey with me, and that you’ll be encouraged by the One who has forgiveness and wisdom for each of us, no matter what world we’ve entered.

Em Gott Sei Friede, (God’s peace),

Cindy

I arrived home late Tuesday after a wonderful trip to visit family in Pennsylvania. There’s never enough time to see as much of my loved ones as I want, so I often leave with my heart aching for more.
 
Sally (my step mom) was a constant help from the time my plane touched down in Harrisburg. She and my dad married about eight years ago, and she’s been a godsend. After the death of my mom, she helped our family move from simply coping into living abundantly again. Sally and I hadn’t spent a lot of time alone together before this last trip, but during the visit I learned what a remarkable woman she is. My mom was remarkable too. My dad has been very blessed.

Sally went with me to Hackman’s Bible Book Store on Thursday night, which was a two-hour drive from Harrisburg. I’m grateful for all those who came out to see me there. The author chat and autograph party were wonderful. I’ll not soon forget the amazing people I met that night. Thank you!
 
If the woman who came to Hackman’s from New York earlier in the day and wasn’t able to stay until I arrived would contact me, I have a small gift for you from one of my Amish friends.

On Friday, Sally and I went to one of my Amish friend’s home. Anna* and I only had a few hours to visit, and we were far from being ready to say good-bye when the time came. But we took comfort in the hope that I can return and stay a few days longer this spring.

On Saturday, the family and I celebrated my dad’s eightieth birthday. His birthday is the reason I went to Pennsylvania. My brother, my sister-in-law, and one of their adult children drove in from Alabama. By party time, all four siblings, plus Sally’s daughter and her family, were there. We had a great time. Sally’s daughter, son-in-law, and two teenage grandchildren were a joy to spend time with. Their presence added so much to the day’s festivities!

We sang “Happy Birthday” to my dad the way he taught us–all of us purposefully off key and quite loud about it.
 
My dad, who enjoys being sarcastically grumpy, was in for a big surprise. Every time he started grousing, we sang the entire song. We only needed to sing it about forty times while he opened presents. We laughed and sang until we were hoarse. He thought it was a riot, but he also joined in on the game by becoming flamboyantly careful. He’d start to open a present and then stop and ask, “Am I doing this right? I don’t want to do anything wrong. Please tell me now, before you start singing.”

Too bad we didn’t figure out the remedy for his biting sense of humor until he was eighty!

Sally catered a meal so the workload would be light and we’d have the energy to enjoy one another. The plan worked great and also gave us a lot of food to use for Sunday’s main meal. We had such a great time, I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.

On Sunday mid-afternoon, my brother drove me to Frederick, Maryland, to meet up with my critique partner, Marci, who lives in Virginia. She and I spent the next two days working on her WIP (work in progress). She’s quite a writer, but she hasn’t turned anything in to a publisher yet. I’d tell you why, but . . . I can’t.
 
Marci and I have worked together for five years and she’s one of the greatest gifts to my life. When the Morning Comes is dedicated to her.

My time in Pennsylvania was refreshing, and I’m so glad I went. Now I’m behind with the rest of life and I feel the pressure of it. Still, that time was a treasure I’ll always remember.

*Names are always changed to assure privacy.