Book feature with Mary Marie Allen, women's fiction author

Let's welcome Mary Marie Allen to the blog today! 

She's an author who writes under the women's fiction category of books.

Mary is here to share an excerpt and review of her book, God's Love Most Gentle.

First, here are a few words from Mary:

God wrote, and is writing, the greatest love story day by day with each of us. It’s a love I (Mary Marie Allen) hope others become acquainted with through my writing. 

My primary goal is to encourage women believers who have experienced love and joy in life along with sadness, loss, failure, and guilt. Hurting women often need help remembering God forgives and His love is most gentle. Then they can find love and joy in life once again. 

This is what happens when a pregnant woman with a harmful secret returns from the missionary field.

~*~

Excerpt from God's Love Most Gentle:

Kim sat cross-legged on the bedroom floor with a basin of tepid water nestled in her lap. She dipped a wash cloth and without wringing it plastered it to her neck. Water drenched her blue cotton dress and pooled about her waist and hips. She prayed for rain. Secretly, of course, for Kurt counted each dry dawn as a gift from God and devoted most of each day to construction of the new church.

Nsia entered the room with the laundry basket on her hip.

Kim plunged the cloth again and raised it over her head. She lifted her face. Clumps of wet hair clung to her cheeks and neck. “They said September was the start of the cool rainy season, but this humidity is more oppressive than any Midwest-summer day I remember. I hate the heat.”

Beneath a red headscarf, round dark eyes studied Kim. “I do not think it is the weather that causes your problem, Mrs. Kim. I will ask Mrs. Thema about a drink to help with baby sickness.”

“Are you saying I’m pregnant? I’m not pregnant.” Kim gave a dismissive wave of her hand letting droplets from the soggy washcloth fling about the room. Nsia knelt and set about sponging Kim with the water. Kim sighed. “That feels so good. You’re a blessing, Nsia, and a good friend.”

Nsia said, “You cry. Yesterday you cry over a watermelon.”

“I was thinking of my father. We won a prize for our watermelons one year. He died five years ago. I miss him terribly.”

“You get sick every morning. Eat or not, you get sick.”

Kim bolted upright. Her mouth gaped.

Nsia laughed and covered her smile with her fingers, but her luminous eyes were big with mirth. “You should see your face. You will give Pastor Kurt a fine, fat baby.”

“But, I don’t know what to do. There weren’t any babies around when I was growing up.”

Nsia patted her hand. “Do not worry. I care for you and the baby. I am the oldest of six.”

She smiled at Nsia. “You are like a little mother.”

“Thank you.”

“I miss my mother.” Tears burned in Kim’s eyes. She pushed homesickness away and pressed her stomach through the thin cotton material of her dress. “I don’t feel pregnant.”

Nsia rolled her eyes. “That comes later.”

Kim stood and hugged herself. She giggled. “I’m going to be a mommy. Kurt’ll be thrilled.” She twirled around then nausea overwhelmed her. She grabbed a bucket near the bed and groaned.

Nsia laughed. “Maybe you should rest a bit. Will you tell Pastor Kurt tonight?”

“No. I can’t wait that long.”

“Mrs. Macomb! Mrs. Macomb! ” Uzachi’s urgent voice blasted through the open window. His face appeared and he saw her. “Kim!”

Nsia scurried to fling open the front door. Men carried Kurt into the room and Kim ran to him. “Kurt! Take him to the bed. What happened?”

Uzachi’s face twisted. “Heat stroke. He never complained. None of us noticed anything until he collapsed and fell off the roof.”

A short man with a scarred face snatched up a braided palm frond beside the bed and fanned Kurt. “He fell on his head.”

Kim whimpered at Kurt’s still form. Nsia pressed the dripping cloth into her hand. “Wet him.” She moistened Kurt’s head and worked down his flushed frame.

His body was hot and dry. His breathing rasped in and expelled with a ragged sigh as his chest rose and fell unevenly. Her own lungs seemed frozen and she gulped for air. Kim re-moistened the cloth and gripped Kurt’s wrist. His pulse surged against her fingers. She swallowed back the bile that rose in her throat as the stench of hard-working bodies thickened the air in the small room.

More men, speaking in low, worried tones gathered outside the open window. Soon their voices rose in a clamor of supplication to God.

“Bring the pills from the desk drawer, Nsia,” Uzachi ordered. Nsia hurried off and trotted back, her hand extended as if to get help to Pastor Kurt more quickly. He placed two salt tablets under Kurt’s tongue. “Keep doing what you’re doing, Kim. I’ll call for help on the ham radio.”

A short time later he returned. His face was grim. “The helicopter can’t come. It’s on a call up in the mountains. That's the other direction entirely. We’ll have to do the best we can and let God do the rest.”

Fear stole words from her mind; a coherent sentence wouldn’t come together. Kim sank onto the edge of the bed and stared at Kurt’s still, pale form. 

~*~

Blurb for God's Love Most Gentle:

When a pregnant widow returns from the mission field family and friends rally to help, but she harbors a secret that may lead to her spiritual downfall. Kim Macomb returns from Zaire, Africa where the 1995 coup has claimed her missionary husband’s life. 

Grief-stricken and pregnant, Kim is only a shadow of herself. Hoping to promote her daughter’s healing, Carol sends Kim, to the calm, godly man who once rescued her. 

Jack’s Montana ranch seems to have the desired effect, but as his son, Mitch, and bad boy Hank vie for Kim’s affections, an agonizing secret drives her further from God. 

Swept up in Kim’s search for peace and forgiveness, those around her face their own frailties and the sometimes unexpected, yet overwhelming truth – God’s love is most gentle.

~*~
Book Review of God's Love Most Gentle:

“I thoroughly enjoyed God’s Love Most Gentle and highly recommend this read! It captivates from the start and takes the reader through the gamut of emotions. I laughed, I cried, I held my breath anxiously waiting for resolution, and my heart warmed at the faithfulness of our Heavenly Father. Seeing the hand of God move in the lives of the characters as He holds them, protects them and carries them through the joys and trials of life. I felt as if the characters became friends of mine and I often wonder how they are doing now! Lol! I’d love to meet up with all of them in a sequel!!” – Myra's 5-star review on Amazon.com

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Author Bio:

Women’s Fiction author Mary Marie Allen lives in northwest Indiana with her high school sweetheart husband, a feisty 97-year-old mother, and a rambunctious German Wirehair Pointer. 

She’s authored four books of poetry, including one children’s Bible story. 

After five surgeries in two years, she’s happy to continue the story of the characters first seen in “God’s Love Most Gentle”. 

She expects book two to release fall on 2018 as “God’s Love Most Faithful”.

~*~
Connect with Mary:
E-mail - marymarieallen2015@gmail.com
Website - https://www.marymarieallen.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/PoetAndWriterMaryAllen/
Pinterest - https://www.pinterest.com/marymakingmerry/

Devotionals for the Heart: Thoughts on Time and Eternity

An Intersection of Time and Eternity
A devotional by Dana McNeely

Note: This is the fourth post in a series on the prophet Elijah. To read previous posts, click the titles: Love in the Time of Drought, In the Waiting Room, and A Widow, a Prophet, and Provision from God.

After Elijah reached Zarephath and found shelter with the widow and her son, they lived under God’s blessings. Though the drought worsened, the never-ending jug of oil and jar of meal nourished them. It would have been reasonable to expect the good times to continue.

However, some time later the widow’s son became ill. He grew worse and worse and finally stopped breathing. She said to Elijah, “What do you have against me, man of God? Did you come to remind me of my sin and kill my son?” (1 Kings 17:17-18 NIV)

I feel for this poor woman. One moment she ate the bread of life, the next she gagged on the stench of death. Anguished, she lashed out, but then secret guilt whispered. Did you come to remind me of my sin? Any mother would be devastated by her child’s death, but she’d already lost her husband. Now she was alone in the world.

I don’t know about you, but I want life to roll along smoothly. When it does, I often forget to thank God, taking everyday blessings for granted. But when trouble strikes, it’s easy to complain or blame others or myself.

I know this is unreasonable. We live in a fallen world, and God hasn’t promised immunity from its hardship, even to those who follow him. Think of Joseph, who ran from Potiphar’s wife but still ended up in prison. Or Daniel, who refused to quit praying and then faced lions.

Though I empathize with the widow’s reaction, what I find interesting is Elijah’s calm response to her remarks. Known for his somewhat hot temper, Elijah didn’t remind her of all he’d already done to help her and her son. In humility, he ignored her harsh words, and in faith, he took this problem to the Lord.

“Give me your son,” Elijah replied. He took him from her arms, carried him to the upper room where he was staying, and laid him on his bed. Then he cried out to the Lord, “Lord my God, have you brought tragedy even on this widow I am staying with, by causing her son to die?” Then he stretched himself out on the boy three times and cried out to the Lord, “Lord my God, let this boy’s life return to him!" (1 Kings 17:19-24 NIV)

The Lord heard Elijah’s cry, and the boy’s life returned to him, and he lived. Elijah picked up the child and carried him down from the room into the house. He gave him to his mother and said, “Look, your son is alive!"

Then the woman said to Elijah, “Now I know that you are a man of God and that the word of the Lord from your mouth is the truth.”

I believe the Lord prepared the widow’s heart with a whisper before Elijah even arrived. She must have heard the truth about God’s love and claims on her life during the time the prophet lived with her and her son. Yes, she reacted out of pain and confusion when her son suddenly died. Such a response doesn’t mean she had no faith … only that it faltered. In quietly asking the widow to give him her son, Elijah allowed her time to quiet her soul and consider. And the Lord, in his mercy, ignored her outburst and looked on her heart, where a tiny spark of faith burned.

In an intersection of time and eternity, God reached down and touched the widow’s son, restoring him to life. Yes, he was still subject to a fallen world; he would grow old and die again. But now, more than ever before, he was his mother’s comfort and a blazing example of God’s mercy and miraculous power. If the widow’s faith in God was a spark before, it was a sturdy flame now.

Do you believe in miracles? When Paul met with Agrippa, the apostle asked, "Why should it be thought a thing incredible that God should raise the dead?" (Acts 26:8 KJV)

Have you ever experienced that which only God can do? Perhaps your miracle was as soft as a whisper to the heart or as earth-shattering an event that, even now, you can hardly bring yourself to speak of. An intersection of time and eternity.

I leave you with this final thought from the great Bible scholar A.W. Pink: “Bring into the scene the living God, and no matter how drastic and desperate be the situation, all difficulties a once disappear, for nothing is impossible to him.”

*For further reading: Elijah by A.W. PinkSaveSaveSaveSave

~*~

Author Bio: 

Inspired by the Bible story of Elijah and the widow’s son, Dana McNeely wondered why the prophet had come to stay with these two. Who were they? What was their life, before? And how did the boy change after dying, seeing the other world … and coming back? 

Dana began research for her novel, “Rain,” which tells the story of the three-and-a-half-year drought from the boy’s perspective.

No stranger to drought, Dana lives in an Arizona oasis with her hubby the constant gardener, two good dogs, an antisocial cat, and migrating butterflies. She writes biblical fiction, cozy mysteries, and has written for magazines and newspapers. Her short story “Death in the Butterfly Garden” appears in SoWest: Killer Nights (2017).

Connect with Dana on Facebook, Twitter, or DanaMcNeely.com