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Showing posts from 2016

Unwrapping Love

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UNWRAPPING LOVE By Frances Judge If love were wrapped in golden paper, tied with silken strings, It couldn’t reach around the world Or open up its wings. Love isn’t placed on pedestals, positioned for display; It needs the flexibility Of a potter’s clay. Love doesn’t need embellishment to prove its fortitude; Its strength is in its meekness And forgiving attitude. Love risks its life and swims the depths to save a drowning friend, But Christ risked all for enemies, And who can comprehend? So love was wrapped in swaddling clothes and destined once to die; Christ would pay the sacrifice, God’s love, exemplified. He didn’t wear His royal robes though he was born a king; He wore the love His Father gave Of which the angels sing. Love doesn’t wait for storms to stop to cross the swirling seas; Jesus walked across the water, Turned tempest into breeze. Love washes feet, love heals the blind, lov

24th Writer's Digest Self-Published Book Awards ... Book Review

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On Sale:  Amazon / Randi's Steps Randi's Steps did not win the Writer's Digest Self-Published Book Awards, BUT... The judges wrote a wonderful review that I'm thrilled to share. "Randi’s Steps is a beautiful, bittersweet story told by Francie, the little girl neighbor who befriends Randi when she moves in next door. Judge captures a wonderful narrative voice, real and warm and very human. Francie loves having a best friend like Randi, who is different in seemingly tiny ways, like being Jewish, but who loves enough of the same things that Francie loves to make her the best of best friends. I liked the description of Randi’s Tinker Bell laugh with the occasional snort (13). Right away, Randi is described as being subject to headaches, which of course adults will understand. I think Judge conveys a progress of Randi’s illness perfectly. For all that Francie loves Randi, Francie is healthy and in need of healthy friends. She reacts with joy to

Book Review / ONE OF THE FEW

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One of the Few by Jason B. Ladd ‘’A Marine fighter’s reconnaissance with the Christian Worldview” One of the Few begins with the fascinating account of a Marine’s life. Jason Ladd takes us through his childhood as a Marine’s son to his adult years as a Marine fighter pilot in the war with Iraq. He describes the rigorous training he underwent in the Marine Corps to build the strength, endurance, and character needed to protect our freedom. He learned the discipline of accuracy and control needed to land a fighter plane on a carrier runway at night. Throughout his story, Ladd weaves the lessons he learned in searching for the truth. One of the Few gives fresh insight into the Christian life and overcoming the battles faced in this imperfect world. This book can instruct new Christians and encourage steadfast believers to trust God with every aspect of life’s daily challenges. I was captivated by the fresh look at Bible truths and scripture that Ladd

Ready or Not?

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    Another school year begins, and I’m not ready to hear my kids ask: “Do I have everything?” as they race to catch the bus. The truth is probably not . But does it matter on the first day? So why do I worry? I need to focus on the basics: they ate, brushed their teeth, remembered the backpack, and caught the bus. I pray for them as the storm door swings closed. Then I stare out the window and hold my breath for three minutes, the time it takes my son and daughter to stroll back from the bus stop. At least for the first day, they made it, and I can breathe again. I can’t relax too soon; sometimes they call from the bus—a call equals problem, something their sleepy minds just remembered. About this time last year, I had to bike to the high school, a twenty-five minute ride, to bring forgotten cleats and shin guards needed for practice. Mommy points for that day! My two youngest of five kids are teenagers who shouldn’t need my h

That Day (Remembering 9/11)

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Playing stickball with a view of Tower One across the bay in Long Beach, NY 9/11/16 A day we'll never forget: 9/11/2001. Years later, as I play stickball with my family, we can see the Tower One where we used to see the Twin Towers. And I remember that day... My husband had left for work. Our oldest three sons, age 5, 7, and 9 at the time, had just finished their breakfast and were starting their homeschool lessons. A few minutes before 9:00 AM, my mother-in-law rushed downstairs to tell us her sister called her with crazy news. “A plane crashed through one of the twin towers! Turn on the TV!”   We watched, confused, wondering how an accident like this could happen as smoke and fire billowed from the first tower. Then in live footage we watched a second plane fly into the second tower…and we knew it was a terrorist attack. This was not an accident—it had to be a calculated plan to kill thousands of Americans. About an hour later, we watched the towers collapse in

Writing Surprises

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I like surprises—but it has to be a good surprise. I don’t want to hear the dog just stole my son’s burrito and hid it in the clean clothes pile…or someone stole my bike again. Those kind of surprises are detrimental to my health, raising my blood pressure. As a writer, I get surprised any time I submit a story or novel for publication. Anticipation builds as I wait for an answer. The publishing industry is overcrowded, too many writers competing for too few spots, so the response time could be six months after submitting a story. Sometimes I’ve gotten a response in a week, but usually I wait over two months, checking my email and snail mail with persistent hope every, uh-hum, two minutes. Too much anticipation isn’t fun.  When I least expect it, a reply glows from my inbox of a thousand emails not yet deleted. My hope waivers from “Maybe it’s a yes and they loved my story and can’t wait to publish it” to “It’s got to be another rejection.” I know it’s a no if the letter b

One More Stolen Bike

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Riding my sister on the back of a banana seat bike When I never had to lock it My bike that was stolen It is one o’clock, exactly the minute I leave work for lunch. And I love my lunch breaks; I bike to a nearby park, overlooking the canal and eat yogurt with the sun warming my face and a breeze to cool my skin. I drink iced coffee chilled in a water bottle, read a novel, and write stories, my ideal break from work stress. I get to enjoy the happy sounds of the outdoors—seagulls chatting and children laughing in the playground. But not today. Today I round the corner of the nursing home where I work and see nothing where my bike should be, nothing where I parked it and locked it at ten o’clock this morning. Nothing but my chain lock, snipped in two places. I open my mouth in disbelief as if I could scream. Screaming would be useless. The thief is long gone. He biked away or threw it in a car. Gone. In broad daylight. Now would not be the time to remin

Changing Dreams

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Model drawing I did at FIT Found the final term garment I made at FIT My Ladybug dress When I was a junior, I knew exactly what I was going to do after high school. I only applied to one college, the Fashion Institute of Technology. A friend of the family graduated from FIT and raved about their fashion design program and the high reputation of the school. Her passion clinched my decision…I would become a successful fashion designer.    I was so sure. My dad urged me to apply to other schools “just in case you don’t get accepted.” He read how hard it was to get into FIT. Not a good idea to “throw all my eggs in one basket,” but that’s what I did. I earned the grades, wrote the essay, and prepared a portfolio of my artwork. I was confident until I stepped onto the city campus. Nothing like a million people to make one feel small. And the most interesting, stylish, beautiful of the million stood in the same room as me, waiting for their interview to attend FIT. My t

Bad Tooth on Good Friday

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Painting (section of larger work) by Eugene Judge I have a toothache. A week ago I chomped down on a hard piece of granola, about the consistency of cement, and chipped an old filling. My family knows how obsessed I am about cleaning my teeth. I floss at least three times a day and brush at least four times a day…but I was less diligent as a kid. So this old filling in my molar cracked through to the tooth. The dentist knocked out the half that hung by a thread. It didn’t hurt then, but after he placed a temporary something to shape a tooth, it gradually ached, gradually throbbed, and felt infected. Oh, the regret for loving junk food as a child! Today is Good Friday, and the day after Purim, so my dentist is on vacation. I will have to suffer until Monday morning. I never thought I’d look forward to a root canal, but I’m ready to do anything to rip out this pain. I’m reminded of the pain Jesus suffered. My little pain, intolerable to me, doesn’t even reach one pe

Family Fun in the Poconos

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Some of our family’s winter fun… Every January, my family stays in the Poconos for a long weekend with my parents, sister, brother-in-law, and nephew. We used to look forward to going to Daniels, a family resort, until it closed down two years ago. That place had enough activities to keep everyone busy-an indoor pool, ping pong, a pool table, scheduled competitions, sledding, night entertainment, and karaoke. We have great memories from that place. The last two years, my parents found a house to rent close to the same area, but we had to create our own entertainment. Last year, the kids played monopoly at night—their version that included dares. They didn’t realize they were going to an indoor water park the next day when they wrote silly phrases in permanent marker all over my son’s back and arms. He got plenty of stares that day.  This year aside from having fun snowboarding on man made snow, we drove to Hickory State Park to play Disc Gol