Devon Holiday

Our weeks holiday in Devon was lovely. We were blessed with gorgeous weather, with warm sunshine most days. Branscombe is such a pretty village, very quaint and oldie worldie, most of the houses are thatched.

We have spent many happy holidays in this village, using the holiday house as a base to visit the surrounding coast and countryside.

This time we had some friends staying with us, and we all got on extremely well and enjoyed a brill time together.

It was a holiday complemented by good friends, good food, and wonderful surroundings. Can't be bad.

I'm quite pleased, my editing is going reasonably well. Okay, I have to send the manuscript to my editor for a final check, but God willing she should find things greatly improved.
Slowly, but surly, I am learning.
English was never one of my better subjects at school. I have all the imagination in the world, but getting it down on paper, so to speak; In a way which is intelligent and readable, is something else entirely. I confess, where grammar is concerned, I am a little dyslexic. So, whether I will ever find myself in a position, where I can safely trust my own editing, is rather doubtful. Sadly, my work may always need some sort of check, as I want it to be as good as it can be, for God, for me, and for my readers.

However, I do have a grip. It seems to me, that publishers and even editors are becoming very pedantic. What ever happened to reading a novel and simply enjoying it. These days a submitted novel has to be word perfect before it even gets a look in. No longer do publishers read a submitted manuscript and think, 'I like this, warts and all, it has potential.'
In all honesty, why employ editors if they are not going to edit. Publishers could save a lot of money by firing them and leave it the author, which in all honesty they do anyway. The whole thing seems crazy to me.
For example J.K. Rowling's first book apparently was not perfect. But the agent saw it's potential, and what potential!! He took a risk and it payed off.
Lets face it, like most things in life, there is no such thing as a perfect book. I have read many books by well known authors and found glaring mistakes that have been missed. I heard on the news recently, that a well known author with one of the larger publishing houses, had to have his books withdrawn due to glaring mistakes, oops!! how expensive is that, money and reputation wise. Again what were the editors doing, not a good job obviously.
Imagine, this author's embarrassment, while doing a public reading he had to stop and apologise to his listeners because of all the mistakes he found in his own work. Poor man, it must have been awful.

Sadly, these days I sit down to read a book and find myself noticing the mistakes in the text. Again I say, what happened to reading a good book and merely enjoying it. Let's face it, half the time our amazing brains ignore the mistakes anyway. Hence the problem that they slip through the net. But does the average reader really care? I don't think so. If they enjoy the book that's all that matters to them. That's what my readers tell me anyway.

I am self published, after struggling to find an agent/publisher and coping with the innumerable rejection letters. However, due to a publisher interest in my second published book, I have tentatively put my toe in the water once again. I totally agreed with her that my book needed work in the grammar department, hence all this editing. But even though she was the one who approached me, I'm still not sure if it's the way I want to go.
Like all of us authors I love to write, and enjoy the freedom and lack of pressure that goes with self publishing. Also, I do believe it will be the major way to go in days to come, with all the new technology available.
Not only that, I'm no longer a youngster and don't feel I can afford the long drawn out process attached to main-stream publishing. I have many books buzzing around in my head, all demanding to be birthed, while there is time.
I want to live each day God has given me to the full and achieve all I can for His glory and praise.
That said, I firmly believe my work must be its very best, before it's held in a readers hands.
So, here we ago again, edit, edit, edit. :)

My hubby and I had a brill weekend in the New Forest. Hubby's brother and wife were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. The Hotel was amazing, the building was old, but full of character. The extensive grounds were beautiful and flowed to the waters edge, we could clearly see the Isle of White.

It was good to meet every one, and in the evening and the food was delicious. It was a long journey to get there, but well worth it. I'm so glad we were able to go and celebrate with them.

Hubby and I had a brill day with my cousin. She has acquired an adorable new puppy, called Dougle.

He's a real little character and as bright as a button.

I am saddened at the way our beautiful country Great Britain is being handed over to Europe and other dark forces. The country my grandfather and great grandfather fought and died for. And it is being done without a squeak of protest from its indigenous people. It's as if we are all in some sort of induced trance, being led like sheep to the slaughter. Like Gods precious people the Jews in the last war, herded like dumb defenceless cattle to their deaths.

The Trojan horse in standing in the heart of this great nation. In time the evil in its belly will be disgorged to take this nation over and it will done without a shot being fired, through the corrupt political system, using the councils and government.

Islam will succeed where Hitler failed.

Is it Gods will. Is it judgement on a nation which has turned away from its Christian heritage and roots? Yes maybe it is. But I believe the God I serve is also loving and merciful and if we who are Christian pray for our nation. Then I believe God will hear and save us.
The time is coming and is nearly here, when Christians need to stand up for their faith and be counted.
I have nothing against Muslims, I know many just want to get on with their lives. But I do struggle with their beliefs. And as a woman I am right to be concerned, all woman should be concerned.

However, if there is one good thing to come out of all this religious and political upheaval, it is that I am seeking to move ever close to my beloved Abba Father, wherein I will find my peace and safety. Praise His Holy Name.

The Making Of A Prophet.

Prophecy is a subject close to my heart. Many times during my Christian walk I have been privileged to hear from God. At times what He said was for my own personal growth. Whereas on other occasions His words were to be shared for the edification of the church.
Do I have a prophetic gifting? Yes I humbly believe I do.

So when I received this paperwork on 'The Making Of A Prophet' written by T . Austin-Sparks
I decided it was well worth sharing. What he says is so true and it is something I have felt strongly about for some time.

Part 1

Prophetic ministry is not something you can take up. It is something that you are. No academy can make you a prophet.
Samuel instituted the school of the prophets.....But there is a great deal of difference between those academic prophets and the living anointed prophets.
The academic prophets became members of a profession and swiftly degenerated into something unworthy. All the false prophets came from schools of prophets and were accepted publicly on that ground. They had been to college and were accepted. But they were false prophets. Going to a religious college does not of itself make you a prophet of God.

My point is this- the identity of the vessel with its ministry is the very heart of Divine thought.
A man is called to represent the thoughts of God, to represent them in what he is, not in something that he takes up as a form or line of ministry, not in something that he does.
The vessel itself is the ministry and you cannot divide between the two.

A Tragic Vision

Once a week my mother and I would pray together. During one of these prayer times God gave me a powerful vision.
If you have ever watched something like a royal wedding you will know there is always a commentator who explains what is happening, who every one is, what they are wearing and so on.
Well this is what it was like for me, I was the commentator speaking out the vision as it happened and it was not easy as I was overcome with Godly sorrow. I had to try and explain what I was seeing through my tears, it was so hard.
My mother was was as distressed as myself. Afterwards she told me that as I was speaking she could see and feel as I did.
This is what I saw and I really believe it is a vision for the days we are in now, it has never left
me.


I was at the back of a huge glorious cathedral with a fair sized congregation sitting in the pews, their eyes glued to the front of the church.
At the alter there were three priests dressed in sumptuous clothes with mitres on their heads, waving incense around. However, like the congregation I only saw their backs.
On the right hand side of the building was a small wooden door. It opened and a man dressed in sack cloth entered. Instantly I knew it was Jesus.
Slowly He began to walk up and down every pew, tearfully calling each person to follow Him, it broke my heart as I watched. Most ignored Him their faces frozen, their eyes glued to the front of the church, their only interest the three priests ministering at the alter.
By the time Jesus had walked up and down all the pews, He was at the back of the church with just a handful of people who had followed Him.
I watched as He walked slowly down the centre isle followed by the few who had responded to His call. He turned right towards the small door He had entered through. As His hand reached out to open it, instantly His appearance changed. Gone the humble sack cloth. Now He was glorious and awesome, shinning with holy splendour. By this time I was struggling to keep going, I was in bits as I tried to explain what I was seeing.
Jesus left the building followed by His little flock and the door closed.

I then looked to the front of the church, the three priests turned around and faced the remaining congregation, and to my horror, it really did shock me, all three priests where skeletons.
I then found myself looking down on the church from the outside and I could see it was not a glorious building at all, but a ruin, It had no roof, the windows were broken, and everyone in it was dead.
It is a vision that will never leave me, and I feel it is a warning to us all. God is calling His true followers out, calling them to follow Him. The Christian walk is not about religiosity, tradition and ceremony. It is about Love, Truth and the Lordship of Jesus Christ and our relationship with Him.
The Bible speaks of remnants, let us all pray that as we seek Him and stay close to Him, we will be a part of that remnant.

Christmas snow

I can't remember the last time we had snow over Christmas, and it was serious snow too. We have had light smatterings over the years but nothing this heavy.

Every where looked so pretty. Our barren and rather dull garden, was transformed into a winter wonderland.

Granted it is a bind trying to get about, but still I like it.

I found the birds very amusing too. Our little feathered friends are brighter than we realise.

The bird bath was frozen solid so they had no water to drink, but that didn't bother them. They tucked into the food I put out, and washed it down with a mouthful of snow, bright or what?

It lasted nearly two weeks, but now it's gone washed away by the rain.

At least now we can get around without skidding all over the road, I suppose that's a positive.

Maybe it will return, who knows? it's cold enough. At least I have my photos to remind me.

Due to the white stuff, Christmas 2009 will not be easily forgotten. Not least for the traffic chaos it caused.

Why does Britain come to a standstill when a little snow falls ? Ah well, at least we give the country's used to heavy snow fall a good laugh.