Sun-scorched land. Not my favorite place to be, but sometimes I find myself scrabbling through loose rock and sand—just like a character in the final novel of my three-book historical series.

As a seat-of-the-pants writer, I don’t plot and plan the story up front, I simply sit down and write it, “watching” as my characters make choices, both good and bad. I like being surprised by how they deal with obstacles and challenges.

In this latest book, one protagonist (the heroine) is a widow. The antagonist (bad guy) is a fatherless son. One of them chooses to take God at his word, and the other does not.

As the Lord would have it, a devotional reading this week lead me to Psalm 68:5, 6.

“A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.

God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing;

but the rebellious live a sun-scorched land”

(Psalm 68:5, 6 NIV).

 Both of my characters suffer traumatic loss, but each responds differently. One trusts God for new life, and the other rebels, ending up in a barren and lifeless situation.

Through the story I realized that I often rebel against the Lord’s direction. I want to do things my way. And my way usually leads to a dry and barren place.

As Thanksgiving approaches, I want to remember that the Lord is my Father and Defender, my family and my song leader, the One who fills my heart with praise.

 

Sun-scorched land—not my favorite place. (Tweet this)

The Lord— my Father, Defender, family and song leader, the One who fills my heart with praise. (Tweet this)