All posts by Sharon Hinck

The Joy of Waiting

Since there aren’t any new submissions for the “Song of Lyric” contest to post today, I decided to pull up something I wrote TEN YEARS AGO (whew!!!) about the writing life. I think perhaps at that time, I was waiting for news about whether a publisher wanted “The Restorer.”

The Joy of Waiting

Last week, I began composing a list of the good things about being a writer. Since I tend to get cranky and melancholy, I figured I needed a reminder of what I should be grateful for.

1. I can work in my pajamas
2. I can take a notebook and pen for a hike in the woods and work in beautiful settings
3. I sometimes get free books to review or endorse
4. I’ve met the best, most amazing people
5. I get to practice waiting.

Okay, that last one wasn’t on my list. Being a writer involves a tortuous amount of waiting. Nail-biting while waiting for an agent’s opinion on my latest idea. Pacing while hoping for news from my editor on whether my manuscript has potential. Checking emails obsessively to see what my critique partners thought of a recent chapter.

Last week, I read a chapter in Marlene Bagnull’s wonderful book, Write His Answer. She wrote about waiting expectantly, productively, and patiently.

My vivid imagination jumps to worst-case scenarios when I’m waiting. “The publisher will finally catch on that I don’t know what I’m doing and reject my new proposal. The editors are sitting around laughing at my clumsy prose.”

So, in an effort to wait expectantly, I worked on expecting God’s good surprises . . . whatever shape they might take. Once when the phone rang, I even thought, “That could be my agent calling with a contract offer.” Amazing how much more fun my writing became when I shushed the negative assumptions.

Waiting productively isn’t difficult for me. As a recovering workaholic, I comfort my anxiety by working. So I kept writing during my weeks of waiting for news on a new project. And I also asked God to make the time productive in other ways. Strengthening relationships, caring for physical health, studying and improving my skills.

Patiently? Well, that’s another story. I’m the kind of person who is so desperate to see what’s around the next corner I barely notice the street I’m on at the moment. But God was providing me a chance to practice. To remind myself that His timing is spot on. To acknowledge that most of life happens BETWEEN desired events, so I better embrace the between times.

One of the joys of being a writer really IS the experience of waiting. Writing chapter after chapter with uncertainty about whether it will be published. Revising manuscripts that might never be read. Trusting that God has called me to this path. Every day is raw and frightening and blazing with potential. And that propels me straight into God’s arms.

And that’s another one of the joys of writing.

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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Mammoth Self-Doubts?

I told a friend today that I was having mammoth self-doubts.

A picture sprang to mind of a huge, furry, snaggle-tusked mammoth, tearing through the garden of my dreams and hopes.

Writers often get visits from this wooly creature, so I’ve tried to learn not to panic when it thunders in for a chat. Instead, when it waggles its tusks in my direction, I’m reminded to run to Jesus.

“Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God.” – Psalm 20:7

Let’s not rely on the chariots of our own skills and human effort (apart from Him), or the horses of approval from others. And let’s not be trampled by the mammoth reasons to give up. Let’s simply trust in the name of the Lord of God and take the next step forward.

Do you ever struggle with mammoth doubts? What verses help you at those times?

Blessings,
Sharon Hinck

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A Word Fitly Spoken

“A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.” 
Proverbs 25:11 (ESV)

I just got home from renewing my drivers license. I don’t know many people who enjoy spending time at the DMV, and today a sign warned of unusually long wait times.

While filling out my form, I watched the women behind the counter interact with each person. They complimented babies, they noticed similar birthdays, they chatted about the weather.

They found common ground.

Laughter, smiles, and patience circulated the room because of their warmth and kind words.

Their example made me resolve to think about the reception I give each stranger I encounter. Can I find some common ground? Can I stir a smile?

Where ever your day takes you, may you both hear and share words set in silver!

Sharon Hinck


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A Book Blitz Gift!

Today, Sunday May 3, 2015, my publisher is hosting a wonderful Book Blitz – giving away as many copies of The Restorer (ebook) as possible.

Let’s see how many we can give away in ONE DAY!

1. If you haven’t already grabbed a copy of the ebook, please do! The Restorer is an unexpected tale of faith and adventure. (And since it features a mom as heroine, it’s a great Mother’s Day treat!)

2. Help me spread the word! Tell all your friends about the freebie, and invite them to order it today.

You can “share” the post on my facebook page, or “retweet” on twitter, or go old school and phone a friend to let them know.

Thanks for joining the fun of introducing new people to the stories!

Blessings,

Sharon Hinck

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Bonus Scene 5 – The Restorer

After Chapter 15

How Nolan came to be assigned to be a messenger to Braide Wood

Nolan:

I grabbed the edge of the jagged wall and skidded into a quick turn on my way to the messenger’s gathering room. The polished stone floors of Zarek’s palace didn’t provide much traction. My feet slipped, but I ran faster. Late again. My mother had been in so much pain that I’d risked an early morning errand to the market to bargain for a few drug patches. I had to slip into the room before Keeper Fentick began handing out the day’s assignments. Maybe today would be one of the days he lumbered in late nursing a headache from a night of drinking.

Slowing to quiet my breathing, I ducked into the door and wedged myself among a group of other messengers. The mountain gods had deserted me today. Fentick was already dispensing assignments.
His bloodshot eyes found me instantly. “And finally, the generals have requested a messenger for a special task.”

The smirk that spread on his jowled face chilled me more than his usual snarls. “Nolan, pack two day’s rations and report to the lehkan division. They’re assembling at the gate.”

My eyes widened. A military assignment? I was a city messenger.

“But his mother…” Arvon piped up from one of the tables. He was a young boy, recently sent from the Grey Hills province. I’d brought him home for a hot meal. He knew how hard I’d worked to protect my assignment in town so I could care for my mother. But he was too new to understand the danger in questioning Fentick.

“Yes, sir.” I jumped forward, hoping to deflect attention.

Too late. Fentick trudged a few steps closer to the table and cuffed Arvon hard across the face. Arvon hit the floor and wisely stayed down.

Fentick looked around the room. “Any other questions? Good. To your places.” He lumbered away without a backward glance.

Most of the messengers scattered. A few glanced my way as they sped out of the hall, but no one spoke to me.

I offered Arvon a hand. “Didn’t I tell you to keep your head down and your mouth shut?”

He rubbed his chin. “So you did. I just thought if he knew about your mother he might keep you in the city.”

I used to find the new messengers from the outer provinces a source of humor. All cheerful ignorance and belief that if they did their job well, they’d be rewarded. I smiled bleakly. “Nice try. But there is something you can do for me.”

He nodded eagerly. “Glad to.”

“If I’m not back in a week, let my mother know where I was sent.”

He frowned. “A week? But Keeper Fentick said you’re bringing two days’ rations.”

As soon as the keeper had barked his orders, I understood the implications. The cold knot in my gut threatened to unravel, but I couldn’t let Arvon see my fear. “It’s two days’ ride to the mountain border. They’re using me in a military campaign. That’s two days to arrive and no days to return.”

Arvon scratched his head. “They have food at the outposts?”

I sighed. “No. I won’t need food. I’m not meant to return.”

Comprehension dawned slowly across his face. “But you can’t… Your mother… You…”

I clapped him on the back as we walked to the door. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll be back before she has time to notice I’m gone. Now get to your assignment.”

He nodded and tore off down the hall, but cast one last worried look back at me. I shooed him away and ran the other direction, choosing the shortest route to the city gate. I was tempted to detour past my mother’s home, but I didn’t dare keep the army waiting. Besides, worry would only worsen her health. I’d managed to hide my fear from Arvon, but I wasn’t sure I could keep up my courage if I saw her.

Outside the gate, lehken pawed the rocky ground, some weighted down with armored soldiers and others carrying bulky loads of what looked like minitrans strapped to their backs. I wove through the men and reported to the general, who sent me to march with the foot soldiers.

By the time the afternoon rains cooled us, we were deep in the dark mountains. I’d never traveled this far from the city.

A strange howl from a distant cliff set my heart pounding, and I edged a bit closer to the soldiers I was keeping step with. One of the men chuckled. “You think this is bad? Did they tell you where we’re heading? Braide Wood.” The hardened soldier shivered.

The name was the stuff of nightmares. The enemy so close to our border, stubbornly in the way of Hazor’s expansion. Backward. Barbarian. Why would the general need a messenger at the borders? I scuffed along the rain-soaked slate on the trail. Maybe he needed me to send reports back to the king, and the two-days’ rations was Fentick’s idea of a bad joke.

Another howl rent the air, closer this time. Around me, the men’s faces turned grim. A trickle of cold rain found its way past my collar, and I rubbed my arms, trying to warm myself.

When the sky darkened and we made camp, I resolved not to guess about my role anymore. I’d be given my orders when I was needed, and my imagination would just make the suspense worse. I only hoped Arvon would help my mother, because deep in my heart I knew that there wasn’t much chance I’d survive this assignment.

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Lyric Entry – Chawna Schroeder

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today’s entry is by Chawna Schroeder. You can visit her HERE.

First Light, Last Light

By Chawna Schroeder

The One creates

New life breathes in

Eyes open wide

And see the first light

From the first light

          He holds our hand

To the last light

          He shuts our eyes to sleep

The One nurtures

Children blossom

Hands growing skilled

Faces to the light

From the first light

          He holds our hand

To the last light

          He shuts our eyes to sleep

The One strengthens

Life pledged to life

A house is built

Beneath the warm light

From the first light

          He holds our hand

To the last light

          He shuts our eyes to sleep

The rains fall, tears of pain

          Broken hearts

          Poisoned minds

          Beetle stings

          Rizzid menace

Enemies without and within

The rains fall, tears of joy

          Mending One

          Cleansing One

          Healing One

          Protecting One

Majesty, power are all His

The One gives rest

Deep sighs breathe out

Eyes sliding shut

At the last of light

From the last light

          He holds our hand

To the first light

          He opens eyes again

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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Lyric Entry – Jessica White

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today’s entry is by Jessica White:

Totally Surrendered

As I watched the storm approaching
My heart filled up with fear
My mind began to race because
I knew no shelter near.

But You showed up in that moment.
You said “Be not afraid.”
You would lead me up to higher ground
If by Your side I’d stay.

(Chorus)

You lit the path
So I could see,
And when I fell
You carried me.

It was You who rescued me.

You lead the way
To higher ground.
It’s by Your love
That I was found.

It was You who rescued me.

And I stand in awe of You….
Totally surrendered.

You clearly knew the way although
The path was not well marked.
And patiently You guided me
As the sky grew very dark.

And as we reached the hilltop,
You pointed out a light.
There below a cabin stood
Where we’d be safe for the night.

Chorus (repeated)

As the rain began to fall,
You opened up the door.
You turned and You asked me
“Do You want to know Me more?”

In that very moment
I saw Your nail scarred hands.
I understood Your sacrifice
And what Your word commands.

(Chorus melody different words)

You took my place.
You died for me.
You bared my sin
On Calvary.

It was You who set me free.

Lord by Your grace
You washed me clean.
It was Your love
that rescued me.

It was You who set me free.

Totally surrendered.

Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

Blessings!
Sharon Hinck

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Lyric Entry – Karri Compton (#2 of 2)

Thank you to everyone participating in the Song of Lyric contest!
There is still time to send your lyrics in to be posted on my blog in April and May.
INFORMATION ON THE CONTEST HERE

The winner will be announced in June.

Today’s entry is by Karri Compton. You can visit her blog HERE.

“Gather to the Tower”

When darkness comes and fear surrounds
The One is e’er our hope and shield
He fights with strength for all His people
Come, your spirit to Him yield

Gather to the tower, the tower where His presence hovers in a mist so palpable 

And praise the One, our Defender, Whose power is unstoppable

When good tidings come our way
And all is right within our land
Come and praise the One, our All
For guidance from His loving hand

Gather to the tower, the tower where His presence hovers in a mist so palpable 

And praise the One, our Defender, Whose mercy is unstoppable

All glory to the gracious One
Who calls our people for His own
Perfect, holy Maker He
Sits majestic on His throne
Gather to the tower, the tower where His presence hovers in a mist so palpable 
And praise the One, our Defender, Whose goodness is unstoppable

Gather now and praise the One
Thanking Him for all He’s done
A god who’s higher there is none
Gather now and praise the One
Gather now and praise the One


Please encourage each author with your comments. (They get extra points in the contest for comments).

Stop back often for more entries!

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Bonus Scene 4 – The Restorer

Here’s a glimpse inside the mind of Kendra as Susan and Tristan struggle to draw her back from Rhusican poison.

After Chapter 13

Kendra:

I was five when Kieran taught me Perish, barely old enough to remember not to pop the smooth stones into my mouth like a curious toddler. The patterns fascinated me. I loved pushing my white stones into place to block the attack of my brother’s black ones. Imagining the scenarios the game represented were no problem for me. In my mind’s eye, guardians rode forward to protect the clan and noble heroes sacrificed everything to beat back invasion.

No matter how quickly I moved, Kieran was quicker. I’d guard my village on one side, only to be attacked on the flank. My nimble fingers adjusted the placement faster and faster. Black and white pieces shuffled and reshuffled, but I couldn’t clear the game.

Ever since the Rhusican at Blue Knoll stared into my eyes, whispering doubt and confusion, I’d been caught in some sort of game of Perish. Move and countermove.

Anxieties advanced like black pebbles, tumbling, avalanching, burying me.

The clans were in danger. Someone needed to do something. I needed to do something. Yet the political issues were huge. I was powerless. Still, there had to be an answer. Faster. There wasn’t time.

Tristan was taking too many risks. The River Borders were dangerous. But he wouldn’t listen to me. I couldn’t stop him. Yet I had to. I had to do more, or I’d lose him. He was taking too many risks. I pushed one thought aside looking for an answer but, like Perish rocks, another took its place, and the horrible circle continued.

From far away, the voice of a stranger interrupted the battle. “Be still and know…”

No time for that. If I stopped and listened, if I didn’t stay focused on the pieces, they’d surround me. I had to organize the problems. Find solutions. Worry them into place.

“Be still and know…” The woman’s gentle voice chanted a chorus I’d never heard before, but it felt familiar even in its strangeness. My body shuddered as I let the melody pull me from the worries I fought to contain.

“I am the Lord that healeth thee.”

Beyond the thready tones of the woman’s voice, I heard the voice of the One. How I longed to sink into that invitation. But if I didn’t fix the Council and Tristan and the Kahlareans, and—

With a sweep of my arm, I flung the Perish stones aside, lashing out against the fear that demanded solutions I couldn’t provide. A moan tore from the deep pain in my core. What had I done? I scrambled to regather the stones. One more time. I needed to try one more time. Maybe this time I could move the pieces into order and stop this chaos. The tortuous puzzle clamored. Fix this. Solve it. Try harder.

Another voice joined the woman’s. Rough-edged and strong. I grew aware of arms that gathered me, supported me.

I’d thought my eyes were open as I watched the Perish stones, but now I opened them and saw his face.

“Tristan?”

A smile lit his features, hope and relief glimmering in his eyes. Frantic strands of anxiety still clung to the edges of my thoughts, but with each passing moment their grip loosened. Was this what it was like for those who closed their eyes in death but opened them in the presence of the One?

Joy built slowly, stretching and filling my mind, casting aside the stones of worry that had seemed so important, so heavy, so insistent. The joy tossed them aside as the pebbles they were. I was awake.

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