By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Strength and rest have long seemed like contradictory concepts to me. Rest is sedentary and strength is active, right? Not necessarily. I’m currently reading a novel, Where Trees Touch the Sky, one of Karen Barnett’s National Park Novels. The quiet strength of the West
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer I am often asked what advice I have for aspiring writers. My answer is always the same. “Don’t quit.” However, sometimes I say, “Never give up.” And often I elaborate: “Keep writing.” Sound boringly repetitive? I’m afraid so. But it is the kind of
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer People who visit the Colorado mountains each fall to see the changing leaves learn how to position themselves in relation to the sun if they want the best picture possible. For the most vibrant colors and the bluest sky, they shoot with the sun
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer My kitchen is brimming with apples, and the choices abound as to what I’ll do with them: 1. Make applesauce 2. Make apple pie or cobbler 3. Make apple cookies 4. Make apple bread 5. Bake apples 6. Dry apples 7. Slice and eat
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Last fall, a cheeky tree squirrel ate the autumn decorations off my front porch. One evening I had two pumpkins and a clutch of Indian corn; the next morning I had one ear of corn with several kernels missing. And two hardened pumpkin stems.
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Skyline Drive offers no railing in its climb up the hogbacks just west of Cañon City, Colorado. The narrow road lives up to its name, allowing motorists and hikers to feel as if they are scaling the sky. Some of us don’t like that
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer “The Lord is … the Lord forever.” These six words are the first three and the last three of the 23rd Psalm. They declare a simple yet profound truth, and in between them, we discover the character of God. This psalm is not just
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer It’s suddenly September. Well, I guess it’s not exactly sudden, but it sure feels that way. On August 8, a month ago, the sun rose at 6:07 a.m. on Colorado’s Front Range and set at 7:59 p.m. Today, sunrise was at 6:34 a.m. and
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Look closely at the deer. He’s a loner. Imperfect. In the world of nature, those imperfections put him at a disadvantage. He would lose in a battle with another buck, so he stays to himself. Alone he forages at the back of our property
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer “How much of you goes into your books?” As a novelist, I’ve often been asked that question, and it’s tricky to answer. I may scatter pieces of myself among characters, but I’ve never embodied one completely. I can’t say of any book’s cast, “Oh,
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Storm clouds hung like a heavy curtain ahead of us, and we anticipated rain at our destination. Torrential rain. As the road curved, it lined up with a bright spot on the horizon, door-like in its invitation to escape the storm and go beyond.
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. Ecclesiastes 4:9 *The first morning I saw the white-haired couple on the Riverwalk, I nearly stared. Not because of their age, but because of their unified presence. The woman wore
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer The farmer’s market brimmed with vendors’ booths of homemade breads, jellies, candles, and stained glass. Home-grown vegetables covered tables in patches of silk-topped corn, golden peaches, and squash of green and yellow—a fresh-air market spread beneath sunshine and shade, populated by the young and
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Today, friend and fellow author Susan B. Mathis is here with inspiration from her recent release, Libby’s Lighthouse, about God’s surprising voices. Welcome, Susan! Do not forget to show hospitality to strangers, for by so doing some people have shown hospitality to angels without
By Davalynn Spencer @davalynnspencer Most of the characters in my books are people I’ve cooked up on my own. Others sneak up on me when I’m not looking, leaving me with the sense that I’ve met them before and just can’t remember when or where. I have a