Last night the Queen invited all her court, friends, and their family & friends to celebrate Christmas on 12th Night (in January), as was done long ago and is still done in some places today. Seeing people who have become family to me, feasting on our homemade food, listening to music and stories, and playing games like the Gift Exchange, I remembered back to last summer when I entered a better Reality than this modern age. Close your eyes and enter a slower-paced, more fantastical time where surprises waited behind tree branches and in the spark of children’s eyes.
See the video I just posted on Youtube. Read my fantasy novel. Celebrate life!
God must be my refuge this year. As I read the Gospel of John and Psalm 91 today, that thought became clear. Funny how I took a photo of this window with the moon above it. Please read about the moon (and its beauty, symbols) in my books.
I watched the most life-changing film, “Man Down.” Not only veterans get PTSD I have had it since I was not yet 5 years old, when my father shot himself in the head–in front of me–on Christmas Day. Through abusive men, cancer, and near-fatal car accidents, trauma has returned repeatedly. Jesus help veterans and all of us who have PTSD. Woman Down.
Do you also feel that this may be the last Christmas this earth will know? Here are some poems I posted on Instagram, with photos:
Stuck on a hostile planet, supplies running out, signal weak, tapping SOS (Save Our Souls), we look to a light and wait for dawn. Hope of Messiah, Jesus.
Watching the 1945 film “Christmas in Connecticut,” I realize how far America has fallen. We used to dine on real food and live in nice homes. Now we eat protein bars and rent rooms–if we are the lucky ones and not homeless. A rose for remembrance.
In your virtual reality, imagine Holocaust victims herded into dark, windowless train wagons with no toilet. Imagine that inhumanity meeting humanity, that flesh needing spirit–and why we need a savior, miracle, baby Jesus.
I want to fly, spirit-like above the earth, like a Christmas angel unbound by flesh. How did God’s son become a baby for us? To walk the dust and heal and die upon a tree, blood to wash us–so broke the victory of resurrection, without which no angel flies or human lingers.
Harder than carrying a child for 9 months, giving birth in the most intense pain I’ve ever felt, keeping them safe for 18 years by guiding them, holding their hands, and telling them what to avoid–is watching them struggle in their 20s to survive in this world with all its hidden traps. I pray for my sons and daughters as the sunset falls, wondering why no one warned me how my heart would be torn out of my chest by seeing them hurt as time goes by. I remember their perfect skin, their tiny fingers, their dark eyes yet unfilled. Jesus, help them. Help me to stand here for them as long as I can, walking outside my desert home in the light of the moon. Touch them; pull them out of darkness; fill them with your resurrection power, your Light of the World–this Christmas.
I am part Jewish. I call myself a Messianic Jew AND a Christian. The 2 seemingly contradictive terms CAN go together. Jesus was Jewish. The first Christians were Jewish, like Paul who traveled through Turkey to Rome and planted churches along the way. John, who wrote the Apocalypse, penned letters to the 7 Churches–all found in Turkey. He was exiled on a Mediterranean island not far from Antalya. My American life has joined with that Mediterranean country that connects the continents of Asia with Europe–at Istanbul. Once called Constantinople, that city rises above 7 hills adorned with ancient castles, Christian cathedrals, and Muslim mosques. Contradictions are part of daily life. Viva la difference!
My last blog, written 3 months ago, was set in my Happy Place–the Big Bear Renaissance Faire. Since those Merry Days ended, I realize more than ever that I was born out of time. I should have lived when women wore capes and could be Queen, accompanied by a faithful, silver-armored soldier. After reading my daily news and Technology Update (outdated the moment it’s published), my aching, spinning head longs to shrug its Technology Trauma and wear a simple, golden mesh “snood” that blends with my emerald flounces. I don’t need to know about Killer Robots, camera-equipped drones, Bitcoin, or the newest smartphone. I want to walk in red forest dust, beneath boughs of evergreen branches, beside breeze-dancing edges of graceful tents. Mountain summits, still with snow, hover above me; knights, ladies, priests, and dancers surround me; and we all yell together,
“Long live the Queen! May she reign forever!”
as we follow the purple-trimmed Spanish Queen of Misfits who allows anyone to join her bountiful land and escape the terrible Inquisitions.
So I updated my “Selah of the Summit” fantasy cover with a photo of me at that Renaissance Faire this summer. Do you like it? I sadly replaced the cover with my daughter Jessica looking like Arwen from “Lord of the Rings” because its resolution was so low (when I added it to the cover format). Did you like that one, too, in its original state, below? Which is better? Email me your preference, please: firstname.lastname@example.org
My Turkish husband “Jack” first saw a Renaissance Faire with me in the foresty mountains of Big Bear, California in 2015. I went to the 2014 Big Bear Renaissance Faire alone. In 2016, Jack and I were having such a difficult time just trying to find a home that we did not attend. Now, in August of 2017, the last weekend of the faire calls to us. We hope to stroll again among the knights and ladies, fairy children, castle gates. Join us in this colorful world where you will be amazed at what you may see.
If you like my photos, slideshow, and video, please check out my books. I wrote a fantasy novel about Selah who escaped an evil tower in the desert and followed Micah up the mountains where she felt her first rainfall and touched her first trees. I wrote a science fiction novel about Miranda who cared for the earth’s last tree and traveled back in time to meet her great, great-grandmother Gabrielle, who saved tree seeds for the future.
I accidentally ended up at Comic Con in Phoenix as I was driving from Texas back to California last year. Without paying a dime, I managed to slip into the amazing world of super heroes, star travelers, and fantasy creatures–many of whom I had read about or watched in movies. Some had inspired me to write my fantasy novel Selah of the Summit and my sci-fi novel Like a Tree Planted.