I have a strange relationship with the element of "change." I'm not always comfortable in new situations, with unknown people, or hard decisions. It can be difficult stepping from one season of life into the next, watching old friendships drift apart, or letting go. 

But then there is Autumn. 

Something about the rush of cold wind that turns my cheeks as crimson as the leaves....or maybe the pop of a campfire and shower of sparks as they scamper into a night sky....or the steamy waft of pumpkin spice swirling in my coffee....

Something about the tiptoe entry of Autumn reminds me that change is a beautiful thing. Letting go of the past feels less like a loss and more like sweet memories. Uncertain tomorrows become exciting new adventures. Evenings sparkle with laughter and treasures. Mornings become promises. 

My Maker made a season for everything. And each one holds something golden.

Who says leaves die in the Fall? Haven't you ever seen them dance on the breeze? 

Every book has it's own personality. Characters show off all different quirks, scenery whispers anything from forest breezes to salty ocean waves. The best stories aren't the ones that stunned you with their prose. They are the ones that left you feeling out of breath and a little like you stepped into another world.

Over the years, I've found that with every change of season I start craving certain books. Maybe because the first time I read that particular one, the lilacs were blooming. Or my sister bought me another and I read it on a rainy day...

Today, I've gathered up a little collection of my favorite reads for a summery afternoon, old-fashioned, new, and everything in between. 

Being a writer is hard.
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I admit it.

I am an author. I've tried to be other things and it didn't go well. Bursts of imagination set me on fire, characters leap out at me from the pages and tug me along on their adventures. Stories run in my veins, but that doesn't mean they come easy. Sometimes, to get those stories out, I have to sweat. I have to cry. I have to bleed. 

Anytime you pour that much heart and passion into anything, you risk something. Hope is a driving force, a spark that makes your heart beat faster and thrusts you onto journeys you never thought possible. When it shatters, it takes some time to piece together again. Hope is terrifying.

War stories have always intrigued me. I understand that too often war is sugar-coated and romanticized by those who have never experienced it. War is darkness and death, yet we read stories of it to be reminded that even in the most devastating of times, there is hope. There is courage, there is goodness, there is redemption where we least expect it.

The deeper darkness is, the brighter light will shine. 

I am thrilled to announce that three incredibly gifted authors of World War II fiction have agreed to partner with me in giving away one of their books! Each story weaves the gritty days of war with a strand of beauty amidst ashes and will leave you breathless.

Spring is humming on the air, my windows are open as I type, and bursts of sunlight are dancing across my bedroom floor.

There is something beautiful about the sunshine, the way it soaks into my skin the moment I step outside, how it bathes every facet of nature in pale brilliance, and transforms morning dewdrops into flecks of gold. 

There is something beautiful in seeing God's creation flourish in the role it was meant to fill. It leaves me wondering how radiant life would be if I spent more time focused on glorifying Christ rather than myself. 

I stumbled across a favorite quote by George MacDonald along that vein of thought: "The flower expressed what God was thinking of when He made it; the face, what the girl was thinking of herself. When she ceased thinking of herself, then, like the flower, she would show what God was thinking of when He made her."