A Prelude to Christmas: Memories and Southerner Spanish Moss "Snowmen"

Welcome Sarah Monzon to the blog. She has a unique treat for you today! Sarah's here to share memories of how she celebrated Christmas a child in Florida, and it involves making "snowmen" out of Spanish moss. She's included a "how-to" guide toward the end of her personal essay. 

There will be no Rafflecopter widget book giveaway today because Sarah's offering her Christmas novella 12 Days of Snowmen for FREE when you sign-up for her newsletter by following this link,

http://www.sarahmonzonwrites.com/subscribe.html

Enjoy!

~*~

If You Give a Southerner Spanish Moss...She Might Make a Snowman
A personal essay written by Sarah Monzon

Snuggling up on the couch with a fuzzy blanket, hot cocoa in hand, fire crackling in the hearth, glittering snow weighting evergreen boughs outside...it's an image we conjure when we think about Christmas. Insert the "I'm Dreaming of A White Christmas" song. This was not the Christmases of my growing up years. No, those Christmases looked like tank tops and flip flops and air conditioning. I grew up in Florida folks! More palm trees than fir there!

But don't let the tropical weather melt your holiday spirit. We may not have had the traditional ingredients to make Snowmen, but that never stopped us. 

Here’s the blurb for my book, 12 Days of Snowmen: Lucy Nel is determined to make her foster daughter's Christmas special by creating for her a 12 Day Snowman Extravaganza in the heart of Florida. Her good plans end up in a messy puddle, however, and she finds herself grudgingly accepting the help of a complete—although quite handsome—stranger.

While writing this sweet story, it was fun discovering all the different ways you can make snowmen without any actual snow, although I admit I may have used one or two of my own family traditions. Here's one for you (in case you find yourself in the South in December): The Mossman. That's right. A snowman made of Spanish moss. My grandfather started this tradition and my mother, who still lives in Florida, makes one every year.

Here are the step-by-step instructions for you to make your own Mossman:

Step 1: Gather a massive amount of moss, either from the ground or the branches. Careful with those ladders!

Step 2: Take some boards and make a small X. Hammer that into a 4x4. That's your stand.

Step 3: Get a roll of chicken wire and make three cylinder shapes of varying widths.

Step 4: Place the largest chicken wire cylinder around the base and stack the other two on top to get a basic snowman shape.

Step 5: Stuff the moss through the chicken wire holes. 

Step 6: Accessorize Frosty.

Step 7: Grab a glass of ice water because even though it's December, you're sweating buckets.

It may not be traditional, but it is funky and you wouldn't believe the number of people who stop by my mom’s house just to take pictures of her Florida snowman.

How about you? Do you and your family share any fun and unusual Christmas traditions or decorations?

~*~
Author bio: 

Sarah Monzon is a Navy chaplain's wife and a stay at home mom to the two cutest littles in the world. 

Playing pretend all day with them isn't enough, she spends the evenings after their heads hit the pillow to create her own imaginary characters. 

When she isn't in the world of make believe, she can be found in a small desert town in central Washington taking care of her family, fostering friendships, and enjoying all the adventures each day brings.

True Love Stories: The Cutest Nurse in the Navy

God knew when Laura would marry the man of her dreams and so did her Mom!

But who knew God would inspire Laura to speak four little yet oh so major words to her boyfriend Steve during a water gun fight in her apartment? Four words that changed their story forever.

What were those four words and what was Steve's reaction? You'll have to read today's featured true love story to discover the answer! :)

~*~
The Cutest Nurse in the Navy
Laura Hilton’s true love story

My story begins before Steve and I met. Two years before I traveled with my then-boyfriend to his parents’ house for the weekend. As we left Springfield, Missouri, I knew—God speak?—that the man I was with wasn’t the man I would marry. I could “see” my wedding and the man waiting for me. I couldn’t see his face. But I knew it wasn’t the man I was with. Sure enough, we eventually broke up.

In April of 1987, Mom told me, “You’re getting married this year. I feel it.” And she started preparing. I humored her, but thought she was being kind of silly. After all, while I dated, it was different guys and no one I wanted to spend forever with. In fact, I figured I’d remain single forever. I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone like I had the guy I’d dated for four years.

In August, I went home to visit Mom. I went back to Springfield on Monday afternoon, and a guy I was friends with, but not dating, called me up and invited me to a Backyard Bible Study. I was the one who’d started Greg’s involvement with Backyard Bible Studies, when he went with me to a few I attended. Greg didn’t fit in with the particular group that I mostly attended, since he thought more outside the box. So he started his own with other kids that didn’t fit inside that particular box. I didn’t really like Greg’s choice of people he invited to his, but I went to both—one for the fellowship and the study, the other to support Greg.

Anyway, that afternoon when Greg called, I was tired and didn’t really want to go out. I wanted to curl up with a book, but to be polite I asked Greg who would be there. I intended to refuse, begging off with exhaustion. Greg started rattling off names. And then he said “Steve.” I knew a Steve. I knew several men named Steve. But something made me ask, “Steve, who?” And Greg told me. “He just got out of the military, he was back in Springfield, and he attended church Sunday.” So I decided to go to check out the new guy.

Steve and Greg were playing Bible-opoly when I arrived at Greg’s. They put the game up and we went outside. To this day, I don’t remember who else was there, but when I saw Steve—another God speak?—I knew this was the guy I was going to marry.

I am, by nature, a very quiet, shy person. But with Steve I was rather forward. I remember Greg staring at me in shock. I asked Steve about who he was and what he did in the Navy. He told me he was a Navy “doc” stationed with the Marines. A “doc” is kind of the equivalent of a RN. I think I surprised everyone there when I told Steve he was probably the cutest nurse in the Navy. But it piqued his interest.

After the Bible study, Steve and I went to McDonalds and continued talking and getting to know each other. And from that moment on, we were a couple.

One Sunday night after church our single’s group went to McDonalds for our usual outing. It was pouring down rain, and Steve wanted to be a hero and drive my car up to the entrance so I wouldn’t get wet. I drove a 1969 VW bug named Twinkie. I told him “She won’t let you in.” Steve laughed at me. “It’s a car.” So I gave him the keys. He went to Twinkie and tried ten minutes before I went out and opened the door. He claims I didn’t tell him there was a particular trick to opening the car door. I never thought there was. I just knew that no one else could unlock Twinkie. I figured she knew me and wouldn’t let anyone else in.

In October, Steve and I had a water gun fight in my apartment, and I opened my mouth and said words that I still don’t remember saying. It must have been God again.

Steve stopped shooting water and froze. “Yes.”

“Wait. What did I say?” I look at him. Stared, probably.

He said, “You asked me to marry you. I accepted.”

“No, I didn’t mean to say that!” I don’t even remember thinking it!

Steve shook his head. “Too late. I already accepted.”

We married December 19, four months after we met. 

I was right. I don’t love Steve the way I loved the other guy… I probably didn’t even know what love was back then. But Steve and I have been married twenty-eight years now. I am glad God knew, better than I did, who I would marry.

~*~
Author bio: Award winning author, Laura Hilton, her husband Steve, and their five children make their home in Arkansas. She is a pastor’s wife, a stay-at-home mom and home-schools. Laura is also a breast cancer survivor.

Her publishing credits include three books in the Amish of Seymour series from Whitaker House: Patchwork Dreams, A Harvest of Hearts (winner of the 2012 Clash of the Titles Award in two categories), and Promised to Another. The Amish of Webster County series, Healing Love (finalist for the 2013 Christian Retail Awards), Surrendered Love and Awakened Love followed by her first Christmas novel, A White Christmas in Webster County, as well as a three book Amish series with Whitaker House, The Amish of Jamesport series, The Snow Globe, The Postcard in April 2015, and The Bird House in September 2015. Other credits include Swept Away from Abingdon Press’ Quilts of Love series. 

Laura is a member of American Christian Fiction Writers and a professional book reviewer.

~*~

Read Laura's book blurb for The Snow Globe:  

Victor Petersheim has left the Amish and works on a river boat on the Mississippi River, spending three months on the river then having three months off. During his off-work months he returns home to his Amish community and helps out on his grandparents’ farm. When he returns home after his most recent absence, he discovers his grossmammi has developed health problems and they’ve hired Esther Beachy to be a “mother’s helper.” Victor is unsettled by this woman living in their home, but has to accept it. Esther loves listening to Victor’s grandmother’s stories and while puttering around in a store while the grossmammi’s in the hospital, she discovers a snow globe that depicts an area where the Petersheims used to live. She buys it as a gift for the grossmammi to cheer her up during her hospitalization. Victor is touched by Esther’s gift and her care for his grossmammi, and strives to be friendlier. Will Esther’s gentle heart draw him back to the community? Or will he return to the river once again? 

~*~
Buy Laura's books:

Amazon.com - http://amzn.to/1FMZOe1

Christianbook.com - http://bit.ly/1AzJIQh

Barnes and Noble - http://bit.ly/1Gji63U

Deeper Shopping - http://bit.ly/1zZuYGI 

~*~
Connect with Laura: 
Amazon Author page - http://amzn.to/1FMZOe1
Blogs - http://lighthouse-academy.blogspot.com/ 

http://lauravhilton.blogspot.com/ 
Twitter - @Laura_V_Hilton
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Laura-V-Hilton/161478847242512
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/vernetlh/

True Love Stories: My Endless Love

I believe the classic song from 1981, "Endless Love" as performed by Diana Ross and Lionel Richie, could easily be the perfect soundtrack to encapsulate today's featured love story.

It's the story of how God brought together a man after His own heart named Paul and a beautiful broadcast journalist named Debra. The introduction happened at church, the courtship began in high school and after being apart for years, a "spontaneous kiss that made time stand still" ignited a romance that led to marriage. 

Paul and Debra's story is not one free of tests and trials but because of their consistent faith in God and devotion to Him, theirs is a story of triumph and true, endless love.

Read on to have your faith in true, lasting love renewed...

~*~

My Endless Love

Chaplain Paul Anderson’s true love story

We met at church one Summer, Sabbath morning because I was standing at the rear entrance of the Ethnan Temple church with Chris, greeting people and she was late. Her mother sped through the light in her green Ford LTD, then screeched to a stop in front of the door. Out of the car crawled two cute young ladies, twins. Chris introduced me to Denise and Debra.

I was smitten but could not tell them apart, nor remember who was whom. After several months, I could finally distinguish them and felt my heart beat differently when Debra came around. I was 15 she was 14.

Our affinity for each other jelled at a church social. Somehow, we wound up on the same team playing Pit, a game that mimics the stock market.  We won! She looked at me with an admiration that I crave to this day. On November 19, 1972, I asked Debra to be my girlfriend. She said yes. I let her wear my Letterman jacket that I earned in Junior High school as a member of the Track team. With prescient arrogance, I told her that if she stuck with me, I would show her the world.

Our early teen romance was a bumpy path through most of high school. After my first semester in college, my father was transferred to San Antonio, TX. The move abruptly ended our courtship. Subsequently, I joined the Navy and spent the better part of four years overseas. I saw Debra occasionally when I came to Pittsburgh to visit my brother David.

In April 1981, I came home from a tour of duty in Japan. I visited Pittsburgh and went to church where I saw Debra. She did not speak to me. I came back to visit several times. Debra did not speak to me on either of those occasions. I was compelled to go back again, specifically to see and speak to her. My mission failed until Sunday afternoon. I had decided that if she did not speak to me, I would never return with an intent to see her. As I was pulling out of David’s driveway on Sunday afternoon, he came running out the door with the phone. Debra was on the phone. We spoke. She said that she was leaving work and asked me to wait for her to come by. 

She drove up in a red sports car. She climbed out of the car wearing white painter’s pants and a white tee shirt. We greeted each other with a spontaneous kiss that made time stand still. That kiss reignited all of the repressed passion of our unresolved, teen romance. Our courtship was a long distance whirlwind. We married in September 1981. Our commitment to love and cherish each other in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better or worse was almost immediately tested.

Our first child, Jared, was born in July 1982. I got out of the Navy and returned to school in September 1982. In March of 1983 I had a near fatal auto accident. Debra worked full time and nurtured me back to health. I was installed as the pastor of my first congregation in January 1985.  In February, D’Andria was born. In March, I had a near fatal illness. Debra worked and nurtured me back to health.

In September, we moved to the Seminary in Michigan. Debra left her lucrative job as a news reporter and moved to Michigan. That phase is where the poorer part of our vows was tested. For three years we lived on my student stipend and the GI bill. We survived the pressures of financial and emotional poverty. We have a testimony!

My dream of pastoral ministry budded when I graduated from the seminary. Debra proudly stood beside me as I was installed as a professional pastor and subsequently was ordained in ministry. Our path has had ups and downs, but the trend has always been upward and onward, never backward.

When the Navy called Debra did not hesitate or flinch. She celebrated the fulfillment of my life’s dream. We packed up and moved to Japan. Her enthusiasm calibrated the children’s response. Once again, she left a lucrative broadcasting career.

The adventures that I promised her began to unfold. Okinawa, Tokyo, Seoul, Guam, Hawaii. She became a fearless traveler and a world class shopper.   

Through the years we have supported each other’s dreams. God has rewarded our faithfulness with favor. My career as a Navy Chaplain has been a dream come true. God has fulfilled her career dreams in media, broadcasting and working on Capitol Hill. 

Thirty-tree years, two kids and three grandchildren later, we are still very much in love. God has been good to us and time has taught us many things, among them, the five pillars of marital success: God, Commitment, Respect, Intimacy and Forgiveness.

We have also learned that covenanting as partners in a holy purpose to enhance the world is the catalyst for miraculous impact. 

The purpose of marriage is to prepare for heaven by working together to make a positive difference in the here and now.When we work together to facilitate each other’s dreams, a synergy is created that makes the sum of our efforts greater than the parts thereof. That is the magic of triune oneness.When God is invited into and included in the marriage, He makes of the two, one force for good that can make the world a better place. He has done it with us. He can do it for others. 

~*~

Author bio: Chaplain Paul Anderson was born in Washington, D.C. He is an alumni of Pine Forge Academy, Columbia Union College (B.S.), Andrews University (M.Div), University of Maryland (M.Ed.), Boston University (STM) and Wesley Theological Seminary (D.Min.). He is a pastor, professor, chaplain, naval officer and a gentleman.

Paul's early career in ministry was in the Allegheny East Conference. He served in Pottstown, planted the church in Reading and completed renovation of the Southwest Philadelphia church. He also served in the Potomac Conference at the Sligo and Seabrook Seventh-day Adventist churches. His life dream was to be a Navy Chaplain. He is and has served a total of 25 years on active duty in the U.S. Navy. That career will end on February 21, 2015 when he retires. 

His fourth career will be as the Director of Adventist Chaplaincy Ministries for the North American Division of Seventh-day Adventists.

He has been married for 33 years to his childhood sweetheart Debra. They have two children Jared and D’Andria. Jared is married to Anika. They have two daughters Noa and Quinn. D’Andria is married to Jermaine. They have a son Brayden and another under construction.

Chaplain Anderson’s favorite Bible verses are Psalm 37:4, Proverbs 3:5-6, 1 John 1:9 and Romans 8:28.