Suzanne D Williams

A Divine Spiritual Connection

2012-01-29T07:00:00.001-05:00

But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die. (Genesis 2:17)

And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself. (Genesis 3:10)

Adam's fear in Genesis 3:10 was a direct consequence, an effect of, the spiritual death God warned him of in Genesis 2:17. Before that, Adam had never felt fear. He'd only known complete unity with God.

We know this because God created man "in His own likeness," (Ge 1:26) designing him to function in the same manner He (God) functioned. He then blessed man and gave him authority over the earth. Ultimately, He declared him to be "good." (Ge 1:28, 29, 31) Adam had everything he needed. God had provided it all. Nowhere in that process was fear.

Yet when Adam and Eve ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, they lost their unity with God, and immediately fear entered in.

No God. Know fear.
Know God. No fear.

Fear was a result of Adam's disconnection with God's presence, and that hasn't changed. Whenever God becomes second place in my life, whenever I disconnect from Him, I find myself afraid.

However, Jesus in John 17 prayed for our final solution to fear.

Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also which shall believe on me through their word; That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. And the glory which thou gavest me I have given them; that they may be one, even as we are one: I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one; and that the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me. (John 17:20-23)

The answer to fear, the way to rid yourself of it once and for all, lies in restoring a divine spiritual connection with a loving, omnipotent God.

How do we do reunite with God? Through repentance, through time spent praying in the Holy Spirit, and through worship. Worship lifts God into the position He's supposed to have - as our ultimate Source. It places us in proper balance. It also reconnects us to the power supply of His Spirit. I walked out from under fear by keeping myself in God's Presence. In God's Presence, I found peace and joy.

The bigger God is in you, the smaller the fear will become.

Additional reading: 1 John 4:16,18; Galatians 5:6

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

How Book Reviews Help Your Writing

2012-01-26T12:00:00.002-05:00

I was blessed to write an article for Tracy Ruckman's blog entitled, "How Book Reviews Help Your Writing," which she published over a two-day period.

The idea for this article came to me after writing a series of book reviews on the web. I realized the same principles I apply to writing the review for someone else's book, judging what made it good or bad, would greatly help me write my own. As I do in photography, I asked myself several questions, using the format for a book as a helpful clue.

Below are both links. I trust you will find it informative.

Part 1
Part 2

Have Confidence

2012-01-23T05:52:00.003-05:00

For the LORD shall be thy confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken. (Proverbs 3:26)

And this is the confidence that we have in him, that, if we ask any thing according to his will, he heareth us: 15 And if we know that he hear us, whatsoever we ask, we know that we have the petitions that we desired of him. (1 John 5:14-15)

I'd like to share with you a thought that came to me while doing my morning Bible study. Gloria Copeland shared a statement I have heard spoken many times, but the revelation of it finally hit my spirit man.

She said:

Because God responds to faith. Our faith, not our need, is what causes Him to act on our behalf.

Now, I confess this idea used to bother me - the thought that God would ignore our need. However today, I see it in an entirely different light, and it was because of her next comment.

If we only serve God half-heartedly, then we will not have confidence in Him to deliver us from trouble. When danger surrounds us, instead of being filled with faith, we'll find ourselves paralyzed with fear.

The problem is not that God is turning His back on my need. This goes against Scripture. Instead, God is full of compassion and mercy. (Psalm 86:15) His greatest desire is to meet our need.

No, the problem is on our end. Think of something you want really bad. Say there's a piece of chocolate cake on the counter and it's yours and it's free. When will you be able to eat that cake? When you confidently walk over there and pick it up. As long as you remain on the couch whining about your lack of cake, it will remain on the counter.

This may seem like a silly analogy, but the same is true of whatever we need from God. God has already offered it to us. It's right there for the taking. There is freedom, peace, healing, eternal life. He saw our need already and provided the answer in advance. So why do we not believe its ours, walk over there, and take it? He's given it to us!

Fear will prevent you from going where God wants you to go, from receiving what God wants you to receive. This is why it is so vital to keep yourself confident in God. Remind yourself every single day of how wonderful He is, how great, how high, how mighty, and build your faith. Keep God bigger than the problem. Then walk right over and pick up the solution. It's yours, after all!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Sandhill Cranes

2012-01-19T20:06:00.005-05:00

Six Sandhill Cranes landed in my front yard this morning and proceeded to make quite a ruckus (good southern word, "ruckus"). Here are a few photos and a video.

You Tube

To view more pictures visit my Webshots.

Why I Worship

2012-01-12T05:39:00.004-05:00

I went to a concert last night, something I don't often do, of a local band whose members I met at my church. It reminded me of why I worship, and I so needed to be reminded.

This has been a not-so-good week for me. The stresses of work, home, and my daughter's schooling got to me. Truth is, I prepared for them to get to me. I knew last week what was coming up and I dreaded it. This only allowed it a foothold in my heart. And you know how that goes, then everything snowballs on you. Suddenly, it wasn't just the things I knew about, but all the other things I was unprepared for too.

Come Wednesday morning, with yet more tasks before me, I was completely wiped out. But I had promised my daughter we'd go to this concert, so we went.

Letters From Patmos Concert Footage
Letters From Patmos FB Page

I'm so glad we did. Sitting there in the presence of God, I saw it all again. I knew why worship was such a good thing for me, and I remembered. I remembered how it healed my heart during my struggle with fear, how it continues to heal me each day. I remembered that five minutes in God's presence does more to refresh me than five days off or five hours of extra sleep.

Funny thing is, God set me up for it. As these kids with such a heart for God worshiped and lifted Him up, I heard no heavenly voice, yet I knew what God wanted me to see. He wanted me to see that He, in effect, prepared that time and place for me in advance. You see, I know myself. Except for the fact that my daughter was told just two days ago that she needed to attend four concerts for one of her classes, my sheer exhaustion would have kept me home. I think God knew that too. He knows me, and He rearranged my life in such a way that I had to go. He knew what it would take to get me there. He also knew what it would do for my well being.

I feel today like a new person. Worship always does that for me. It is like words of the old song state, "In the light of His presence things grow strangely dim." No longer am I focused on my problems. Instead, my focus is how great God is - how much higher and broader and stronger He is than everything around me, anything I face. All the pressures of the present fall away and my heart regains the balance its supposed to have: where God is bigger and everything else is smaller.

I needed to worship last night, and my great and mighty God unbeknownst to me placed me where that was all I was there to do. Thanks God! For You are holy. You are worthy. You are more than enough...

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began With A Salad, Final Installment!

2012-01-07T07:00:00.003-05:00

Here is the final installment! Don't forget to purchase the complete story in digital format for only 99cents. It contains a BONUS chapter, you'll want to read before the next Amanda Series story.

What does Amanda's father have planned for her next? What will happen between Amanda and Paul? Read the BONUS to find out!

Smashwords (Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, iPad, Adobe Digital Reader, PDF, etc.)
Amazon (Kindle)

To catch up on the story:
Part 1
Part 12

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Amanda knocked on the door loudly. Heavy footsteps sounded from inside. Male voices yelled at each other, one in German, one in Russian. The door slid open to reveal a large bulk of a man. His bald head gleamed in the lights of the entrance.

“Edward sent me,” she spoke in Russian. She had to do this correctly or it’d backfire.

The large man nodded and allowed her to enter.

The hallway of the place was lined with mounted animals of all shapes and sizes. It was rather unsettling and morbid. There were reindeer and elk, a brown bear’s head, the tusks of a boar, a rabbit, even a fish and a squirrel. Amanda shuddered. The man led her down the hall and into a small well-lit room. A fire spit and crackled in the grate of a marble fireplace at one end. In front of the fireplace, an overstuffed chair held a set of feet bedecked in maroon and gold slippers.

“Sit,” said the large man and he motioned to a chair placed opposite the feet. Amanda sat. The room was surprisingly hot and stifling.

“You have it?” The voice’s accent was English.

Amanda looked at the man in the chair and smiled. “Hello, Dick,” she said.

“So, you’ve fooled your old Pop?” The chair swiveled to reveal a wrinkled face and laughing eyes. Amanda inclined her head. “I wished I’d known. I’d liked to have had some fun with him. He is always too serious.” The man named Dick laughed for a moment and waved his hand. His face straightened and he opened his palm.

Amanda removed from her pocket a USB drive. “It’s all there,” she said.

Dick turned the drive over in his fingers. “I’ll trust you, but let me ask you this. Why now? Why for the child? All these years he’s refused. You must admit, it’s an unusual request.”

“I gave him no choice,” she commented.

That seemed to satisfy him, and leaning over he slipped a business card into her hand. “You be careful. These chaps aren’t friendly. They don’t like me and they definitely won’t like you. Good luck.”

Amanda rose. “Thanks, Dick,” she said. “I owe you one.” He’d collect someday. She was confident of that.

With a nod, she left him still sitting in his chair.

***

Bang! Amanda spun her gun around and fired. The bullet hit the Russian square in the forehead and he fell. Another one sprung around the corner and she fired again. He zipped left and the bullet grazed his shoulder. Angry, he fired back.

Amanda ducked behind a crate and listened as his bullets smacked into the wood. Raising her hand above her head, she popped a couple shots in his direction. One winged a metal pole and let out a loud clang. Bouncing off, it hit him in the arm. She heard him yell.

Dodging right, she squeezed between the crates and slipped from the room. Behind her, footsteps followed. The next room was dark. Seeking concealment, she climbed atop the crates, flattened herself and waited. Heavy breathing alerted her to his presence.

“Where are you?” he shouted in Russian. Amanda smirked.

A sudden noise startled him and he jumped. Turning sharply left, he aimed between two crates. He was paranoid now and looking the wrong direction.

That will work in my favor. Lifting a rock in her hand, she tossed it across the room. It thunked against the far wall and the Russian spun around. His back was now directly in her path. Lifting her gun, she aimed and fired. The bullet sunk into his flesh. He grunted and fell.

Amanda leaped lightly from the crate onto the floor. Continuing forward, she ducked through a doorway and ran down a set of stairs. At the bottom, a wooden door was barely visible in the dim light. Her hands trembled with the lock.

“Ivy?” she called. She heard a shriek from inside the room.

“Mama!” the voice called out. Tiny fists pounded on the backside of the door. Amanda yanked at the door and as it opened, the child tumbled into her arms.

“It’s ok,” she said over the child’s sobs, “I’ve come for you. It’s going to be all right now.” Lifting her up, she buried her face in the girl’s hair. It smelled dirty and unclean.

Turning, she carried the girl and retraced her steps to the entrance. She stepped over the first Russian, lying in a pool of blood. Slipping out a side door into the night, she wrapped her coat tight around Yvette and proceeded towards the metro.

The lights of the metro were bright in comparison to the darkness of the night. It high walls, dome ceiling, and decorative frescos came from another era of time. A handful of people traveled through. For a moment, Amanda scanned their faces. None seemed out of place. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to the girl.

Amanda pulled Yvette back and smoothed her rumpled hair. She looked thin. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying.

“Mama missed you,” she said. The girl threw her arms back around Amanda. “Never again,” she said softly, petting her hair. “You’ll never leave me again.”

At that moment, she spotted Paul. Bag in hand, he stood at the edge of the tracks, smiling.
“Come,” Amanda said, “Let’s get out of here,” and she walked to his side.

“All ok?” he asked.

Amanda let out a huge breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “It is now,” she said and smiled.

Paul rounded behind her and gazed into the eyes of the child. “Hello, lovely. I’m Paul. This is for you.” From his side, he pulled out a small brown teddy bear. Yvette blinked and reached for it, tucking it underneath her shoulder. “We’re going on a trip, you, your mom, and I. Sound like fun?” She nodded.

The noise of the train arriving drowned out everything else. Amanda watched the doors swing open. A couple passengers left and others moved on. Taking Paul’s hand in her own, together they climbed aboard.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Steve's Digicams - Interpretation and Thought

2012-01-06T18:20:00.001-05:00

My January 2012 article is online. In this article, I was honored to feature the work of landscape photographer, Ben Horne. If for no other reason than to see his work, be sure to check it out.

Interpretation and Thought

God Is Good All The Time

2012-01-01T07:00:00.001-05:00

I read a true story written by someone who had been through a terrible time in their life. I cried for them and was touched by their sorrow. But in the midst of their story, they said what I have heard so many say - that God wanted them to learn something from it.

Sigh.

To be entirely truthful, despite the platitudes they offered at the end - how they found healing from their grief through faith in Christ - I couldn't get past that one comment because it is so WRONG.

God Is Good All The Time

Let's settle it here. God is good all the time. Until you have placed the foundation of that in your heart, you will never be able to overcome through faith in Him whatever the devil throws your way. For there's the truth of it. The devil is the enemy. If it's bad, it came from him.

There are numerous proofs of this in the Bible. Jesus gave an example in his ministry. In it, He referred to Himself as the shepherd. Then He spoke about the purpose of the thief.

I am the door: by me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture. 10 The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. 11 I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the sheep. (John 10:9-11)

It seems pretty apparent that if He is the shepherd, come to give abundant life, then He cannot be the thief, come to steal. Anything or anyone that is stealing, killing, or destroying in your life, is the work of the thief - not God.

Jesus gives another example in the book of Luke. Here, He states that earthly parents, that'd be you and I, give their children GOOD gifts, therefore the heavenly Father gives GOOD gifts. You'd think that'd be clear enough. However, someone in the crowd then stands up and accuses Him of casting out devils using the devil's power.

I can just see Him shaking His head.

If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him? 14 And he was casting out a devil, and it was dumb. And it came to pass, when the devil was gone out, the dumb spake; and the people wondered. 15 But some of them said, He casteth out devils through Beelzebub the chief of the devils. 16 And others, tempting him, sought of him a sign from heaven. 17 But he, knowing their thoughts, said unto them, Every kingdom divided against itself is brought to desolation; and a house divided against a house falleth. 18 If Satan also be divided against himself, how shall his kingdom stand? (Luke 11:13-18)

Think for a minute. If every kingdom divided will fall, then God does NOT use the devil because that makes Him divided against Himself.

God Is Here To Heal

Jesus also told us what the power of God in our lives is called to do. Given we now know it does NOT steal, kill or destroy, because that is the department of the thief, and He is not divided against Himself to use any of those things against us, then what IS His purpose?

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised. (Luke 4:18)

To preach. To heal. To deliver. To recover. To set at liberty. That about covers it.

So who is to blame when things go wrong in our lives?Well, I caution you against always saying, "The devil made me do it," because sometimes we do it of our own accord. Most know what I went through with my battle against fear. Do you know at no time did I blame that on God? I did learn something from it, but guess what I learned? I learned that God loved me - always - that God wanted me free - always - that God is bigger and stronger and higher than the devil. I learned I was wrong in the way I behaved, the way I spoke, the way I acted. I learned that fear isn't that big, only seems like it, and that through the power of repentance, a mighty, powerful, omnipotent God would sweep in give me complete repentance and heal me physically, mentally, and spiritually.

But I could have gotten all of that by listening to what I'd heard growing up. My mother taught it. My pastors preached it. The Bible in my lap said so. However, I didn't believe any of it. I did what I wanted to do and eventually paid the price for my sin. And that had nothing to do with God's will for me.

A Good God!

There was one statement in the story I read that DID stick with me. About midway through the book, the author asked, "Why don't we pray when things are going good?" There is a huge truth, and here is the answer. We pray when things are going good because we hunger and crave to spend time with the One who is only good and only desires to give good things to us. He is our Father and our best friend.

Sometimes our limited human knowledge prevents us from knowing the path of our feet. Sometimes we can't see God's plan and sometimes bad things happen. This is where faith steps in. No matter what I do or don't understand about the evil in the world, I know that I know that I know that it wasn't God's desire for me.

I like the words of Psalm 52:1, "The goodness of God endureth continually." That, my friend, sizes it up. God is truly good all the time. Do you believe it? I do!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 12

2011-12-31T10:31:00.002-05:00

Only 2 more installments left! Don't forget to purchase the complete story in digital format for only 99cents. It contains a BONUS chapter, you'll want to read before the next Amanda Series story.

Smashwords (Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, iPad, Adobe Digital Reader, PDF, etc.)
Amazon (Kindle)

To catch up on the story:
Part 1
Part 11

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Yvette sat on her cot, twisting a ring in her hands. In her tiny mind, she remembered the lady with the kind face. She wanted to go back there. She’d been so happy. However, she was too young, only five years old, too young to know where she had gone.

One minute they were in the garden, playing and laughing. The next she’s shuttled off to dark places. Male hands grasped and shoved at her. Female hands, hands with rough calluses, pushed her around, and always, everywhere she heard angry voices.

Her eyes filled with tears. Where has Mama gone? For that’s how she thought of her. The lady with the kind face was Mama. She remembered an older man too. He’d given her the ring.

“It belongs to Mama,” he’d said. “Keep it.”

Her small mind had barely been able to grasp that.

There was a knock at her bedroom door and it creaked as it opened. A bulky, muscular man entered, towering over her, a tray of food in his hand. Slamming it down on a table in the corner of the room, his only word was, “Eat,” and he left.

Yvette stared at the food. She wasn’t hungry, and she began to cry.

***

“Do svidaniya,” (Goodbye) Amanda said in Russian and hung up the phone. Turning to Paul, she added, “Well, we’re all set.” She lifted a slip of paper from the desktop and handed it to him. “Meet me at the metro in an hour.”

Paul stuck the paper in his pocket.

Amanda rose and walked to the window. Night had fallen over Moscow, yet it wasn’t dark, for the lights of the city sparkled around them. Enormous flakes of fresh snow blew through her view. The snow would help conceal her. Below, huge drifts sat piled along the street edges and across the way in the park; they consumed the landscape.

Paul walked up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She leaned back against him and felt his hands slide down around her waist. A large bang came from the hallway, followed by cursing in Russian.

“You ok?” he asked.

At his words, Amanda turned around and faced him. His arms remained about her. She found that comforting.

“I’m fine.”

“No jitters?” He seemed to look deep into her soul. Uncomfortable, she looked down at his shirt. Its Hawaiian pattern was out of place in this dark city. It was like him to wear it.

“Nice shirt,” she commented. She’d avoided his question.

“You avoided my question.” He’d read her thoughts.

Amanda buried her face in his chest. For a few moments, neither one spoke. Her thoughts whirled.

What is happening to me? She’d never before given in to this much emotion. It clouded her judgment. Only one thing was uppermost in her mind tonight and that was Yvette. She couldn’t deal with how she felt about Paul. Not right now.

Another loud bang came from the hallway and the slam of a door followed by more cursing. Amanda looked over Paul’s shoulder at the door.

“What are they arguing about?” he asked. Paul couldn’t speak Russian, but Amanda could.

“Trust me. You don’t want to know,” she remarked and laughed.

She pulled away from him and walked back to the desk. Opening the drawer, she removed a small pistol and slid it into her pocket. The clock read 11:15 PM.

“We’d better move,” she said. Looking at Paul, she remarked, “See you after.” Crossing to the door, she turned the knob. She felt his eyes on her back.

“Amanda?” his voice called out and she paused. Looking over her shoulder, her eyebrows rose in question. “Be careful.” She nodded and was gone.

***

Paul watched her go. He was afraid for her. His greatest wish was coming true. She cared for him. He could see it. But he also knew she was vulnerable and he wasn’t going to take advantage of that. She had to accept him in her own time.

Truth was, he didn’t want a girly girlfriend. No, he wanted the tough-as-nails woman she’d become. Tonight, for instance, she didn’t need him with her to get Yvette. If anything, he’d be in the way. Amanda performed best when left to her own devices. He looked too western here in this city. He stood out, and she didn’t.

Plus, she knew Moscow like the back of her hand. He’d only get lost. He pulled the paper out of his pocket. She’d said to meet her at the metro with the tickets. They’d have to leave quickly. That was his part - that, and moral support.

He still thought she regretted what she’d done to her father. She’d explained it all to him, how she was adopted, but he didn’t think that mattered. Her father was still her father.

“He took me in because he had to. He’d made a promise.” That had sounded to him like an excuse.

“Doesn’t that speak well for him? I mean, he could have broken his promise,” Paul countered.
She’d changed the subject.

Paul watched the minutes tick by until it had been an hour. Apprehensive, he crossed to the closet and lifted the bag. Re-checking its contents, he glanced again at the clock. It was time to go.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Help Is Coming!

2011-12-27T06:53:00.004-05:00

I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the LORD, which made heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1-2)

I woke up this morning with this Scripture on my heart. As I lay there thinking about it, I began to see a picture. Perhaps this picture is for someone who might read this blog, and for that reason I will share it.

When I was at the bottom of life, I begged God for help. I felt as low down and incapable of fixing my situation as I'd ever been. I wept and cried before His feet. It was a turning point in my deliverance. Yet it was not the begging or the tears that caused God to answer my prayer, though God sees our tears. Instead, it was the condition of my heart when I requested His help.

There is a vast difference between asking God to correct everything in your life with no intention of changing your behavior and crying out to God with every determination to not act the same again. One is a position of selfishness, and God will not honor that, the other is a position of surrender. It is, "God, I give you all of this. I won't be the same. Now, help me!"

Where are you looking?

The key point in this verse is the direction in which the applicant is looking and with what they are looking. The verse plainly says, "Lift up." This is an action on our part, something we must do personally. We can no longer look at our feet to our right hand or to our left. We must lift up in the direction of the help and stop looking elsewhere. This is a point of surrender to God.

Now notice, surrender is the only action required. This verse does not say, "Stretch out your hand." It doesn't command us to walk anywhere. In fact, in this verse we are stationary. At the moment of lifting up our eyes, that is the only action. God does not need our help. Remember we need His!

God is a god of mercy and compassion. He desires to help us, but He also desires to see we are looking only at Him. Look in the direction of the help. Stop trying on your own efforts. And lastly, notice to whom you are looking. This is in the second verse. We are not looking at just anything! We are looking at the Maker of heaven and earth.

"I expect you to do it!"

Say to God, "Okay, I'm looking at you now and I expect you to help me!"

Wait, you say, can we do that? Absolutely! What does it say in Hebrews?

Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need. (Hebrews 4:16)

Come boldly! God has promised us help in our time of need. Faith says, I look to You God to keep your word to me, and I look ONLY to you. Then faith acknowledges to whom it is looking. We are looking at the "Maker of heaven and earth." It is one thing to ask for help. But when we ask, why would we ask it from someone incapable of helping? That makes no sense. No, we ask it of the one who has all the power to correct the situation.

And the LORD shall help them, and deliver them: he shall deliver them from the wicked, and save them, because they trust in him. (Psalm 37:40)

Happy is he that hath the God of Jacob for his help, whose hope is in the LORD his God: (Psalm 146:5)

For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee. (Isaiah 41:13)

He has the power to help and the willingness to help, so expect Him to help! Lift up your eyes. Help is coming!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 11

2011-12-24T07:00:00.003-05:00

Here is the 11th installment of my ongoing story. Don't forget you can purchase this story in its entirety in digital format. And the download comes with a BONUS chapter you don't want to miss!

Smashwords (Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, iPad, Adobe Digital Reader, PDF, etc.)
Amazon (Kindle)

To catch up on the story:
Part 1
Part 10

The next installment:
Part 12

---------------------------------

Amanda leaned her head on Paul’s shoulder and closed her eyes. The hum of the airplane and the murmur of passengers echoed around them. It was going to be a long flight. She might as well settle back.

Her mind rehearsed the events of the day before. She saw her father as he was afterward, sitting there in disgrace, his entire political future ripped out from under him. One tiny corner of her heart felt bad.

The problem was she did have good memories. She remembered happy things they had done together, but she also remembered being left behind – a lot. She resolved never to do that to Yvette. If she had to hang it all up, she would.

Paul wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Glancing up in his face, she smiled and closed her eyes again.

Paul. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about him. Paul loved her and right now, she needed him. She wasn’t ready to admit she loved him back, not yet. He was dependable, and she wanted that more than anything in the world.

The clients would have to wait. She was going to get Yvette back first, no matter what it took. Then she, and Paul, and precious Ivy would find a place to stay for a while. Maybe France. Maybe they’d get a cottage somewhere on a farm. She smiled at the thought of herself in a floral print dress and mud boots standing up to her knees in animal fodder.

Sleepy, she began to drift off when Paul spoke.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad.”

Opening her eyes, she looked in his face again.

“You’ll be a good one,” she said and paused. “I…I should thank you.”

Paul placed his finger on her lips. “No need. You know I’d travel the world with you.”

She did know it.

“We don’t know what we’re in for over there or how hard this will be,” she said.

“We’ll manage.” He pushed a stray hair away from her face. “You sure you’re all right. I mean, about Dad and all?”

Amanda continued to look in his face.

“You don’t have any regrets?” he continued. His brow was creased in concern.

“Sure, I do. But it’s for the best. I’ve burnt that bridge now and I can’t go back.” Amanda resettled herself and glanced out the window.

No, she was only going forward now, forward into an uncertain future. The plane began to lift off from the runway.

It had to work out. She’d make sure of it.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 10

2011-12-17T07:00:00.002-05:00

Here is the 10th installment of my ongoing story. Don't forget you can purchase this story in its entirety in digital format. And the download comes with a BONUS chapter you don't want to miss!

Smashwords (Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, iPad, Adobe Digital Reader, PDF, etc.)
Amazon (Kindle)

To catch up on the story:
Part 1
Part 9

The next installment:
Part 11

-------------------------------------

Disgraced, Amanda’s father rubbed his head in his hands and stared at the floor. He couldn’t believe she had done it. And all for what? He shook his head in disgust.

Weak. He’d always known she was weak.

I should have never taken her in, he thought and his mind wandered back to the beginning. He saw her. Her small, dirty face mixed in with all the other orphans. She wore shabby clothes, her little dress patched and re-patched. Her hair flew out at all angles in complete disarray.

“Ariana,” said the headmaster in Russian. “Her name is Ariana. We are so glad you’ve come for her.”

He’d gotten the distinct impression the headmaster was acting. He’d have given her away to anyone who asked.

“Ariana!” the headmaster called out. The little girl looked up when she heard his voice. Her face was sticky with food and dirt and snot. She sniffled. “I’m afraid she has a bit of a cold. Nothing a little rest won’t solve,” he’d continued.

The little girl named Ariana walked over, stood in front of him, and stared.

“Ariana, you’re going with Mr. Edward to live,” he’d said to her. She’d only blinked.

“Mrs. Peabody?” the headmaster barked. At his words, a stout older woman in a brown skirt and floral apron rounded the corner.

An English nanny in a Russian orphanage. It was unusual.

“Mrs. Peabody,” he’d repeated, “This is Master Edward. He’s adopting Ariana. Can you take them to the office?”

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Amanda’s voice cut into his thoughts and he glanced up. Her face was flushed with success. “Now you know what it’s like to have it all taken away.”

“Why?” he asked. “Why did you do this? What is the child to you?”

Amanda shrugged. “She was mine. It’s that simple. You had no right.”

“But I know what will happen, it happened to me,” and he gazed in her eyes. She was impossible to read. He’d trained her well. “One minute you’re free and the next you’re tied down. You always have to look back, to be extra careful.”

“Was that SO bad?” she said angrily. “You’d rather not have had me. Is that it?” She was beginning to shout.

“Amanda! Watch your volume.”

“Why? Who cares anymore? I’ve never had a father, whoever you are.” With that, she produced the paper taken from the limousine and shoved it into his face. “You’ve gotten soft. It was so EASY to take this. I knew I wasn’t yours. I’ve always known it.”

He reached up and took the paper from her grasp. It crinkled between his fingers.

“Where is Yvette?” she demanded. “You owe me that. I want her back.”

“There is no getting her back,” he said. “It’s too dangerous, even for you. You couldn’t possibly do it alone.”

“She’s not alone.”

Looking up, behind Amanda stood the fellow who’d blocked the door.

“She has me, and you’re going to help us get her back.”

“Now why would I do that?” Sarcastic, he leaned back in the chair. “I have no reason now.”

“You’ll do it. You’ll do it because then I’ll be out of your life forever. You never cared for me, whoever I am, and I don’t even care about that. I only care about Ivy.”

“Where will you take her?” he asked. His voice was snide.

“You let us worry about that,” Paul said.

Amanda shoved a cell phone into his face. “Make the call,” she said. “NOW!”

Reluctant, he took the phone and began to dial. “This is a mistake,” he mumbled, but his fingers kept pressing the buttons. “You really do not know what you’re in for.”

The ringing on the other end persisted for a few seconds and a male voice with a thick, Russian accent answered.

“It’s me, Edward,” he said smoothly. “I need to make you a business deal.”

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Christmas at Bok Tower Gardens

2011-12-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

Took a day trip to Bok Tower Gardens in Lake Wales, Florida to see the Christmas decorations. You will always find flowers there, no matter the time of year. We also went inside the Pinewoods Estate House. For more information on the gardens visit boktower.org.

Bok Tower

Poinsettias

Tea Bag Christmas Tree, Pinewood Estate

A Christmas Story Tree

Bee on Camellia

Trio of Bees on Mexican Tree Daisy

To view the entire album of images (more Christmas trees) visit my Webshots.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began with A Salad, Part 9

2011-12-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

Here is the next installment of my Saturday Story series. Amanda is about to spring the trap on her father.

Don't forget you can purchase this story in its entirely for 99 cents and it includes a BONUS chapter you will want to read! If you are intimidated by digital ereaders, buy the PDF. It opens in Adobe Acrobat Reader and can be printed on any printer!

Smashwords (Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, iPad, Adobe Digital Reader, PDF, etc.)
Amazon (Kindle)

To catch up to this installment:
Part 1
Part 8

Here is the next installment:
Part 10

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From the back of the room, Paul scanned the rows of tables. All heads had turned towards the stage. The man talking greatly resembled the man in the photo.

Her dad. Paul studied him. He looked nothing like Amanda. Amanda, with her dark hair and olive skin, resembled more someone from Eastern Europe. Amanda’s Dad, on the other hand, had sandy brown hair and green eyes; he was almost Irish in appearance. It was odd.

“I’m going to ruin him,” Amanda had said.

Startled Paul paused to let her words sink in. “Are you sure you want to do that? Think of the ramifications.”

“I don’t care. He took her from me.”

“I thought you said she was dead.”

“I said she was gone. He tricked me. Sent me out on some errand, and when I came back she was gone. I know how far-reaching he is. He knows too many people. She could be anywhere. I aim to find out where.”

Paul looked Amanda in the eye. He’d never seen her like this.

“You know I’ll do whatever you need. But I want you to be sure.”

“Just don’t let him leave the room. Keep him there.”

The squeak of the mike brought his thoughts back to the present. Several people groaned. One lady covered her ears. Amanda’s Dad cracked a joke about it and the crowd laughed.

So now you’re running for mayor. Well, not for long. Once Amanda was done with him, he’d not be able to run for anything.

“…this election, I promise to focus on the issues at hand. We must solve the tax crisis and balance the budget!” Amanda’s dad’s voice increased in volume. Emphatic he pounded on the podium. “I can do this better than my opponent, and I ask for your vote next week. Let’s work together and find a permanent solution!” Finished, he backed up from the mike and the crowd rose to their feet in applause.

Blinded by the sudden splendor of jewels and sequins, Paul squinted his eyes. When he recovered his vision, he saw her dad leaving the stage.

My turn. Paul circled the room, reaching the stage door first. His way out blocked, her Dad looked him full in the eye.

“You need to move out of my way,” he said. His voice was deep and harsh, yet he smiled.

“Sorry, can’t do that,” Paul responded and he gripped the handle harder. “The show’s just getting started.”

Her dad bristled at his impudence. “Move,” he repeated. It came out in almost a growl.
Paul just smiled. The crowd had begun to bustle around. Their attention from the stage was being lost and he frowned. Where was Amanda?

Amanda’s dad looked behind him, then back at Paul. Gripping Paul’s shoulder, he squeezed in an attempt to force him to release the door. Paul winced but held firm. Then he spotted Amanda. Climbing onto the stage, she walked over to the podium and grabbed the mike.

“I think you need to turn around,” Paul said matter-of-factly.

“Hello, everyone. You don’t know me, but I’d like to tell you something about this candidate.” Amanda’s voice filled the room. People looked towards the stage, mumbling under their breath.

“Please, take a seat,” she continued. Gradually, the diners stopped what they were doing and the room grew quiet.

Spinning around, Dad let go of Paul and stared at the stage startled. Paul rubbed his shoulder, relieved.

“What are you doing, Amanda?” he heard him ask.

“I think she’s settling the score.” At Paul’s words, her Dad revolved back in his direction.

“What is all this about?” He sounded irate.

“A little girl named Yvette,” Paul said.

“HER?” His face flushed in anger. “How DARE she!”

But Paul could see it was too late, for on the big screen behind her head was the photo – Amanda, her dad, and the little girl crouched in the garden, her hair streaming as she ran across the lawn.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

"It's in your hands."

2011-12-06T07:57:00.005-05:00

I was struggling the other day, full of "how's," "why's," and "what-about-me's," when in my agitation, I decided to pray. Now, I don't recall my exact words. Most likely, they were not so much full of faith as full of complaint. But I remember vividly God's response.

"Put this back in my hands, Suzanne."

You see, so many times I think our frustrations come, not from God's hesitation - He's not sitting in heaven looking at his watch, waiting for the right time to come - but from our inability to stop doing what it is His job to do.

Once again, I had picked back up God's responsibility.

Why is it we think we are to pray and then answer our own prayers? It makes no sense, yet we do it all the time.

"God, I need this or that," we pray, then we proceed to make it come to pass. There comes a point where we have to let go and trust God to keep His word. We find this all through the Word of God.

A man's heart deviseth his way: but the LORD directeth his steps. (Pr 16:9)

O LORD, I know that the way of man is not in himself: it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. (Je 10:23)

The Lord God directs our steps, not I direct my own steps. In my own self, I am insufficient to the task. At some point, very plainly, I will fail. No, God brings me promotion. God provides the finances. God protects me with His peace. These are His jobs. The good news is, He will do them.

What does it say in John 14:14?

If ye shall ask any thing in my name, I will do it.

He WILL do it. There is no hesitation in that statement. God has spoken.

So once again I laid down what I had mistakenly picked up. There comes a point in faith where things are out of our hands and into His. Our job is to believe He is wise enough, strong enough, and powerful enough - to believe He is faithful to keep His word.

I have felt much lighter since then. I still in the natural don't know how or what God is entirely up to in my life, but I plan on believing He will continue to do it.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

God Moments

2011-12-05T15:26:00.003-05:00

My thanks to Tracy Ruckman of Write Integrity Press for allowing me to share my God Moment amongst some truly beautiful testimonies others gave about God's mercy and grace. I encourage you to visit the link below. Then scroll to the bottom and read what others have shared. I believe you will be truly blessed.

God Moments in the Ordinary

It All Began With A Salad, Part 8

2011-12-03T07:00:00.002-05:00

This story is now available in digital format for only 99 cents! You DON'T want to miss the bonus chapter!

Smashwords (Kindle, Nook, Sony Reader, iPad, Adobe Digital Reader, PDF, etc.)
Amazon (Kindle)

Also, don't miss the 9 author/99 cent/99 hour sale at Write Integrity Press! There are some great books on sale there!

If you need to start this story at the beginning, here is part 1.
Here is the previous installment, part 7.
Here is the next installment, part 9.

We left last week with Paul about to act, but act on what? What is Amanda up to?

--------------------------------

Silent, Amanda crept up behind the bodyguard in the hallway. Not a hair on her head moved. She paused when he turned his head to examine the area. Satisfied all was well, he faced forward again, folding his hands at his back in a military stance.

Amanda listened as the speaker for the evening was introduced. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of him through the doorway. Intoxicated with success, he began to explain his stance in the upcoming election.

Amanda’s pulse quickened and she returned her attention to the bodyguard. He didn’t flinch, but continued staring straight ahead. Raising her hands to his neck, in a flash Amanda sent him tumbling to the floor stunned. Quickly, she removed his gun. His eyes glazed over and he groaned.

“C’mon big fella,” she mumbled and grasping his shoulders, pulled him out of the doorway and into a side room.

“Where is it? Where’s the key?” she mumbled as she rifled through his pockets. Soon she found what she was after. Extracting a small gold key from his inside coat pocket, she patted the bodyguard on the head.

“Thank you so much.” Her voice was triumphant. Closing the door to the room behind her, she turned towards the exit.

Give the bodyguard the key. Predictable. Amanda squeezed the cold metal tight in her hand.
Outside the building, she looked along the curb for the expected black car. The limo driver had gotten out to stretch his legs and so had his back turned in her direction. Amanda noticed and sighed. Why did they always make everything so easy?

Crossing the pavement, she crept up behind him and gave him the same whack she’d just done the bodyguard. Instantly, he fell to the sidewalk. Amanda let him lie where he’d fallen. He’d wake up soon enough and she’d be done by then. Snatching his keys, she unlocked the car door and slipped in.

The leather seats of the limousine were smooth and cool to her touch. Amanda twisted in the seat to afford a better view. Her gaze immediately fell on the briefcase.

“Gee, Dad. You should leave your briefcase in the car,” she mumbled. Lifting the case onto the seat, she flipped it onto its side and pressed the stolen key into the lock. With a click, it sprang open. Inside were numerous forms, contracts, letters, and assorted business files. Amanda shuffled through them until she spotted what she was after.

A grin slowly creased her lips. Opening the stiff file, inside was a single piece of paper. Slightly yellowed, the word “adoption,” was written in bold print at the top. Below it, she read a list of statistics - “Sex: female. Age: four. Description: Black hair, brown eyes.” The date was August 17, 1982. The next line stated “Race.” After it in heavy cursive writing, she saw the word “Russian.” Amanda leaned back on the seat.

Dear old dad wasn’t her dear old dad after all. She was adopted, and now it all made sense. Her father would never have allowed himself to become entangled with a female long enough to produce a child. She’d always wondered about that. There was also the fact she looked nothing like him, and she had these faint memories from her childhood – a room full of children, an older lady in a brown skirt. She remembered a car ride and an airplane trip, but she’d never tied them together until Yvette.

“You can’t keep her,” her father had said firmly.

Amanda glared at him. “She’s mine.” Amanda stuck her chin out stubbornly.

“How are you going to continue to work with a child on your hip?” He was being practical, but she resisted.

“I’ll manage.”

“Manage? You can’t even manage now. You’re here aren’t you?”

“I’ll leave tomorrow,” she stated. Truth was, he was right and she had nowhere to go. But her heart had gotten inextricably tied to that tiny person.

She relied on me, and I loved her. Amanda set her resolve. She’d ruin her father. She wasn’t going to change her mind. Snatching the paper from the folder, she creased it and slipped it inside her shirt. Opening the car door, she exited and headed for the dining hall.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

* Life, God, and Photography Volume 1 is now available for only 99 cents! This collection of my devotionals and instructional photography articles from 2009 will really bless you.

Steve's Digicams - Two Important Things About Sales

2011-12-01T21:08:00.004-05:00

My December 2011 article is up at Steve's Digicams. In this article, I take a look at two important rules in making (and surviving) sales, especially when dealing with difficult people. You can read the article directly at the link below.

Two Important Things About Sales

Kindlegraph and 99 Cent Sale

2011-11-29T18:45:00.005-05:00

http://www.kindlegraph.com/authors/scw1217

I have joined up with Kindlegraph. What is Kindlegraph? It is a way to receive a personalized inscription (autograph) for your digital book. Send me a request and I'll write you one!

----------

Also, this weekend is a very special ebook (digital format) sale.
9 authors for 99 hours with 99 cent books!

Included is my edition of Life, God, and Photography, Volume 1 as well as my ongoing story, It All Began With A Salad. Included in this story is the BONUS chapter you won't want to miss!

There are books of all varieties: Christian fiction, nonfiction, devotional, Christmas stories, short stories, Young Adult. At the link below is a list of what is available with a description about each book. This is a great opportunity to pick up the latest book from Write Integrity Press which Tracy Ruckman and I compiled - Life Lessons from Grandparents. This super book has some of the most precious stories. Also included is A Pixel Perfect Christmas, which is the book the story of Christmas at my grandparents is in.

Click here for more information!

What Christmas Is Really About

2011-11-27T15:10:00.006-05:00

If I am being truthful, Christmas is not my favorite holiday. In fact, it's probably my least favorite. For a number of years, I struggled with depression during the holidays. One year I even took the decorations back down before Christmas Day actually arrived.

The great stress of attending parties and buying gifts, the whole commercialization of it gets to me at some point, and I begin to identify with Charlie Brown. "Isn't there anyone who knows what Christmas is all about?"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=DKk9rv2hUfA

Yet every year, God reaches down to give me one moment that reminds me of the true purpose of Christmas. I like to think of this moment as God's little surprise because I never know when it will come or from where. It could be a Christmas play, a television program, a song I hear sung. Whatever it is, it always comes. Often, it is from something inconsequential. Nevertheless, it reaches right in and touches my heart.

Last evening, I watched "A Muppet Christmas Carol" from 1992. It's a cutesy rendition of the familiar tale of Old Ebenezer Scrooge starring actor Michael Caine and a slew of recognizable Muppet characters. In this version, Scrooge's assistant, Bob Cratchit, is played by none other than Kermit the Frog. Tiny Tim is Kermit's son, one of four children of he and Ms. Piggy.

["Okay," you say, "Where ARE you going with this?" Just hang in here!]

Forget the fact that a frog and a pig having both pig children and frog children threw me for a loop. It was during a scene where Old Scrooge is viewing Christmas Present; Bob Cratchit's family is gathered around their meager table; that I had my moment for this year. Bob Cratchit talks to his wife about Tiny Tim's behavior at the church service and then he makes the following statement, "...that we might remember the One who made the lame to walk and the blind to see." *

I'm telling you I almost leaped off the couch. There before me, in the form of a silly children's movie, was the truth of the season. It's not about getting gifts. It's not even about giving gifts. It's not lights or decorations, trees, food, family. None of that. It's not a baby in a manger, or shepherds in the field, or wise men on camels.

Instead, Christmas is the Savior of the world and the hand of a loving God reaching down from heaven's grandeur to heal man - spiritually, physically, emotionally, financially. It's God who is greater, higher, stronger,wiser, and more powerful, being willing and able to do every word of what He's promised. It's God's mercy, God's grace, and God's omnipotent ability come to earth to correct the destruction of evil and destroy the works of the devil. (1Jn 3:8)

Christmas is remembering the One who made the lame to walk and the blind to see!

Oh, how I needed to hear that this year, and I will never forget it. Thanks, God!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=DKk9rv2hUfA

*I did look for a video online of this scene and the closest I could find was the song they sang after (above). This quote is from my memory of it and so could be off by a word or two.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 7

2011-11-26T07:00:00.002-05:00

Here is the next installment of what has been affectionately dubbed "the salad story." So far we have Amanda upset over the loss of a child. The question is who's child? And what does she have planned? How is her father involved? The saga continues and it's getting interesting!

To start at the beginning, here is part 1.
Here is the previous installment - Part 6.
Here is the next installment - Part 7.

Look for this story as a digital download for 99cents. Included is a BONUS chapter - the story after the story!

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The dining hall buzzed with a multitude of voices. Men and women dressed in all manner of eveningwear decorated the room.

It’s almost festive, Paul thought.

“Name?”

Paul looked up at the man standing in the door’s entrance.

And no one got in and no one got out. Paul smiled despite his morbid thoughts.

“Paul MontClair” Tonight he’d decided to be a MontClair. He rather liked the formal sound of it.

The man, a husky fellow, looked down at his list and back at Paul. “I’m sorry, Mr. MontClair, but you’re not on the list.”

Behind Paul, a rich old dame in a green sequined gown a few sizes too small made a face at him, then leaned over to her younger escort and whispered.

“Oh, sorry,” said Paul. “I’m with Mr. Nivens.”

At the mention of the name “Nivens” the man with the list bowed. “Very well, sir. My apologies.”

Paul breezed in the door, amazed that that had worked, and found himself attacked by an enormous bulk of a women wearing a slinky black number. Her cloying perfume made his eyes water and he held his breath, trying not to cough.

“Paul, dear!” the woman oozed with charm. “Fancy, you being here? I didn’t know you were into politics!”

Paul smiled and slowly let out his breath. “I have all sorts of interests,” he answered. “I should go…” As he attempted to slip away, she caught hold of his arm.

“But you HAVE to speak to Henry!” Turning, the woman waved her gloved hand in the direction of a feeble-looking old man.

Looks like he came over with Noah on the ark.

The elderly man wobbled forward tapping a gold-tipped cane on the tiled floor and offered Paul his hand. His grip was surprisingly strong and Paul winced.

“Henry and I just came back from Monte Carlo. Didn’t we, Henry? Had the most MAR-velous time. Henry has a new cabin cruiser. We sailed right along the coast, was FAB-ulous.”

Paul checked his watch. Ten minutes until eight. Looking past the woman, he scanned the tables and his eyes lit on a familiar face.

“So lovely to see you again, Henrietta,” he said. “I have to speak to someone. Let’s catch up sometime.”

With that, Henrietta leaned over, kissing Paul generously on each cheek.

Henry and Henrietta, really? He smirked as he walked away and suppressed a laugh. Crossing the room, he stopped before the familiar face.

“Hello Dad.”

Paul’s father swiveled his head at his son’s voice.

“Paul! What are you doing here, son?” he asked.

“Thought I’d see who’d show up at this circus,” Paul remarked sarcastically.

With those words, Paul’s father frowned. Paul knew he really shouldn’t needle his dad like that.

He attended every political function. He shouldn’t be surprised he was here.

A whistle from the microphone turned their attention to the stage. Looking again at his watch, he saw it was eight o’clock.

“Game on.”

“What’s that?” His father’s voice crowded back into his thoughts.

“Nothing.” Patting his dad on the shoulder, he walked away. It was time to get to work.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

* Life, God, and Photography Volume 1 is now available for only 99 cents! This collection of my devotionals and instructional photography articles from 2009 will really bless you.

Sweet Potato Casserole

2011-11-21T07:00:00.002-05:00

Well, it's Thanksgiving again. It's hard to believe another year has come and gone. I have much to be thankful for. God has been good to me, and I believe He has even better things planned for next year.

For one thing, my first fiction novel will be coming out! Look for news about that following Christmas. Another book close to my heart will be out in the week or so, Life Lessons From Grandparents.

This recipe is one that has been in my family as long as I can remember. There are lots of versions on the internet, but I believe this one is the best!

Another Great Thanksgiving Recipe:
My Grandmother's Cornbread Dressing

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FILLING:
3 cups mashed sweet potatoes
1/3 stick butter
2 eggs
1 cup white sugar
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
1/2 cup milk

TOPPING:
1 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup self-rising flour
1 cup pecans, chopped
1/3 stick butter, melted

Mix filling ingredients. Place in casserole baking dish. Mix topping (will be chunky). Crumble over filling. Bake at 350F for 30 minutes.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 6

2011-11-19T07:00:00.006-05:00

These next two installments should heighten your interest. If you missed the series, here's part 5, and to start at the beginning, here's part 1.

Here is the next installment - part 7.

Look for the full story, "It All Began With A Salad" to be released soon in digital format for ereaders, including printable PDF!! Price: 99 cents! And this version will include a BONUS chapter available only in the ebook verson.

---------------------------

Paul straightened his bow tie and checked the clasps of his tuxedo sleeves. His diamond cuff links sparkled in the bright light of the bathroom. Nodding at his reflection, he turned and re-entered the bedroom. His socks were slippery on the tile. Sitting down on the end of the bed, he lifted a shoe.

He hoped Amanda was right. For her sake, he wanted this to work. For a moment, he could see her face again as she described it.

“It’s an election event for the upcoming mayor. Be your usual suave self and schmooze with the bigwigs, but keep your eyes peeled. At eight, I need you to move.”

Paul was unsure how he felt about Amanda's plan. In thinking back, he remembered a selection of her comments. She'd said she hired herself. Given the nature of things, that made sense. She’d also said it happened “a long time ago.” That part had him confused. It had been less than a year, and that wasn’t very long.

She'd never said who the father was. This bugged him. The Amanda he knew was one cool customer. She seemed never fazed by anything much less be one to give in to fluctuating emotions.

“Maybe she’s not hers. Then who’s?’” Paul wondered. He slipped the shoe onto his right foot and reached for the other one, buffing a scuff with the sleeve of his coat.

Why go through all the trouble to break in and steal a couple pictures? What do they prove?
These questions must have their answer in the man he saw in them. He had looked too old to be the child’s father.

“More like Amanda's father.” This thought sent needles up Paul’s spine and his head began to twitch.

“It couldn’t be! He’s been gone for years!”

Paul had never met Amanda’ father, but he’d heard stories. Amanda’s father was some type of modern James Bond. He’d lived the greater portion of his life undercover, posing as this or that. He’d worked for the Secret Service, the CIA, and the FBI.

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

“So, dear old dad’s back,” Paul mumbled. Tonight was definitely going to be interesting. He rose from the bed and walked to the door.

***

Amanda sincerely hoped involving Paul was a wise choice. Paul had always had a bit of a crush on her. She knew that. More than once, she’d wanted to give in. He was a wonderful guy, but love would get in the way of her work. She didn’t have time for love. Yet she didn’t want to use him because of it either.

Her gaze fell down to the photographs. With her finger, she traced the young girl’s figure. She’d loved once and lost and it hurt.

I’ll never do that again.

She’d never thought she’d be a mother. She hadn’t intended to, at least. But when this tiny person was delivered right on her doorstep, she’d been drawn in. After all, the child had no one. Her real parents were both dead from drug abuse. Amanda couldn’t bear to put her into the system. However, she knew she needed help. She couldn’t raise a child alone.

“Enter dear old dad,” she said to herself.

She’d been amazed to find him at all. He’d just ended a mission in Croatia, some black market weapons deal, when she’d turned up on his doorstep, toddler in hand. She could still see the look on his face. Well, actually, there hadn’t been a look, mostly a raised eyebrow.

“Always good at keeping a straight face.” Years of practice had done that for him. He’d looked exactly the same as when she’d last seen him - strong and sure of himself, if perhaps a bit grayer at the temples.

“Open the door,” she had said, and he’d backed up. The little girl had wrapped herself around Amanda’s neck.

“Never knew you were interested,” her father’s deep voice had rumbled as he led her into the drawing room.

The drawing room was as far as most people ever got at her father’s place, if they got there at all. Dad was very secretive with his business dealings. Yet the drawing room was set up to make a distinct impression. Richly furnished, the burnished wood paneling and floor to ceiling shelves of antique books made you think her father was far more studious than she knew he actually was. The afternoon light streamed in through the heavy paned windows, leaving bright squares on the thick, maroon carpet.

“This is Yvette," she’d said. “I need help. I can’t take her home with me.”

Her father had only blinked in response.

“Only for a few days, until I figure something out,” she insisted.

Yvette raised her head then and looked her father square in the eye. Her father smiled and spinning the girl around, Amanda pointed at him.

“Ivy, this is my dad.” The little girl had looked up at Amanda’s face and back to her father uncertainly.

“It’s okay,” she reassured. With that, the girl wriggled down onto the carpet and crossed over to stand before her Dad. Her blue eyes blinking, she lifted her arms straight up in his direction and waited. To her surprise, he’d picked her up.

Amanda’s vision clouded then and the memory soured. It wouldn’t do to rehearse it again. It only proves what she already knew. She’d let her guard down and the child was gone. Amanda’s face darkened with anger.

Well, it ends tonight. Clasping an earring on each ear, she lifted her purse and headed for the apartment door.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

* Life, God, and Photography Volume 1 is now available for only 99 cents! This collection of my devotionals and instructional photography articles from 2009 will really bless you.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 5

2011-11-12T07:00:00.003-05:00

Here's the next portion of my salad story. If you are just beginning to read, here's a link to Part 1. For those who missed last week's, here's part 4.

To continue reading, here is Part 6.

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Paul checked his reflection in the mirrored glass window, then turned his face toward the door. Nervous, he adjusted his shirt collar before attempting to knock. The orange paint of the door stared him in the face and he gulped.

Why does she always make me feel this way? he thought and butterflies jumped in his stomach.

Raising his hand to rap on the door, it creaked and swung open. Caught briefly off guard, he stumbled on his first few words.

"Well, here I am." It sounded lame and he could hit himself.

Amanda's face had her familiar mocking smile. Backing up, she made a grand bow as if to imply he was an important visitor. Recovering his aplomb, Paul curtsied, then walked in.

Amanda's apartment was extremely clean, which made Paul smile.

"Your OCD is still the same, I see," he remarked. Amanda was, if nothing else, extremely fastidious. Every table top sparkled and gleamed. Not a hair, not a speck of dust could be seen anywhere. Glancing across the room, the bookcase caught his eye.

"You could put something on that," he said and pointed at the empty shelves. Yet he knew she wouldn't. She lived like she must be prepared to leave at a moment's notice. That was what had caused the trouble between them before.

Paul crossed to the couch and, despite the fact his sitting would rumple the cushions, did so. He could feel Amanda wince without turning his head.

He'd met Amanda five years before at a huge social event at the museum. She'd been dressed to the nines in this black sparkling number and had simply took his breath away. Working his way that direction through the crowd, he'd wormed himself into her conversation. At the time, she'd been caught up with some overweight, balding man and looked bored spitless. Paul listened as the man described some ancient artifact, talking about American Indian cultures, and then inserted himself into their conversation. Amanda had caught on to what he was doing right away and played along. They'd gotten along famously ever since.

Amanda came around the couch and stood facing him.

"Penny for your thoughts," she said.

Paul looked up at her and for the millionth time thought how beautiful she was. Why was he always doing this to himself? He could have a relationship with a dozen other wonderful women, yet he always held out for the very one the hardest to obtain.

"I was thinking about the time we met," he remarked, "at the museum."

At that, Amanda smiled, "Whatever for?"

"I don't know. It just came up. You ought to put down more roots." With that comment, he felt stupid. Make it more obvious, bud. "Anyhow, what's this job you hired yourself to do?" Swiftly, he changed the subject. "What was in that packet anyway?"

Amanda lifted an envelope from the nearby coffee table and dropped it in front of him. Curious, he arched his eyebrows at her. She nodded a "go ahead" and he opened the envelope. The brown paper was crisp underneath his fingers. Shaking the envelope, two photographs fell out. Paul looked back up at Amanda.

"Photographs?" he said.

"Look who's in them," she remarked.

Paul lifted the notes. One was of a child, a little girl with her golden hair in two pigtails. Behind her stooped and watching was an older man. Paul crinkled his brown and stared. The other photograph was the same older man, the little girl, this time with her hair falling about her face in disarray, and an elegant woman. The woman he recognized. Startled, he looked up at Amanda's face.

"It's you!" he said. "But how? And the girl?" He mind spun with many questions.

Amanda shrugged. "It's me. The girl is...was...my daughter." Stunned, Paul was at a loss for words.

"When...I mean, I don't get it."

Leaning back on the couch, he studied Amanda's face. She was impossible to read. She'd been gone for a couple years now, longer than usual, he realized. He had wondered why, but with no way to contact her, it had never occurred to him...And her words echoed in his thoughts. She'd said "was" and he caught the tiniest reflection of sorrow in her face.

"What happened?" he said.

Amanda sighed. "I might as well tell you the whole thing. No point in hiding it now." Lifting her hand, she deposited in his upturned palm the necklace she'd worn that morning at the beach. He looked down at the pink ring again.

"Hers?" he asked, and she nodded. He was surprised to hear a catch in her voice.

"I never thought it would happen to me. All the years, I've been doing this, trying to save other children, I didn't know that I'd lose my own. I couldn't save her."

Amanda seated herself at his side with a thump. Overcome, Paul placed his arm around her shoulders and she leaned against him.

"I don't know if I can keep doing this. Like you said, maybe I need roots. I get tired of being tough."

That didn't sound like Amanda at all. Worried, Paul lifted the necklace into the light.

"How can you not, given all of that? But you don't have to do it alone." And just that quick, their intimate moment was gone. Straightening, Amanda took the necklace back, slipping it over her head, and slid the photographs back into the envelope.

"Yes, well," she said, "This time you are right, and I have a job for you to do. This time, somebody's going to pay."

Her face was grim. Paul saw a glint of anger sparkle in her eyes.

"Just tell me what you need," he said. "I'm all yours."

-------------------------------
Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

*Don't forget my blog posts from 2009 are now available as an ebook! Life, God, and Photography Volume 1.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 4

2011-11-05T07:00:00.006-04:00

I am not big on setting for myself consistent deadlines because the more you set, the more chances you have to break them. But I thought for a while at least, I would have "Story Saturdays" and indulge myself in a bit of fiction writing. I have received positive feedback from this series. I hope you continue to enjoy it.

As always, feel free to chip in, and send me any story ideas you might have. I'll mull them over.

Here's part 3, in case you missed it, and here is Part 5.
-------------------------------

Paul returned, two cans of soda in hand. He'd already opened his. Casual, he tossed the other unopened can directly at Amanda, who swiftly caught it in her left hand. He could never surprise her. Flopping himself back down in the sand, he stretched his long well-tanned legs across her beach towel. A whoosh sounded as Amanda opened the can followed by a slurp.

"Not very lady-like," he murmured with a smile. Amanda didn't flinch.

"So okay, who hired you?" he asked again. He hadn't believed her answer before.

Amanda pressed her can down into the soft beach sand and lowered her sunglasses again. Paul's brown eyes met with hers and a slow smirk spread across her face.

"I hired me," she said.

Curious, Paul tilted his head. She hired herself?

A shaft of sunlight struck the gold necklace she was wearing and for an instant, he was blinded. Shielding his eyes, he reached out a finger and flicked at it.

"Where'd you get that thing?" At the end of the long, gold chain hung a tiny plastic pink ring, like what a child would wear.

"It was a gift," she stated.

Paul looked down at his feet and back at her face. He thought to himself how far could he push it. Just how far would she allow him to go? Amanda had always been a bit mysterious in his life. She popped in and out like a sudden wind. No, more like a tornado, always leaving his emotions a bit confused. He'd gotten used to it - well, sort of.

"From?" He decided to pursue the issue a bit further.

"My, aren't we nosy?" She removed the sunglasses, laying them down by her hand.

"My, aren't we mysterious?" he countered.

"Touche," was her response.

He heard her sigh. Fingering the necklace she seemed to drift away.

"It belonged to a child who is gone. I wear it to remind me of why I do what I do."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then she seemed to snap back to the present. Lifting her drink, she took another sip.

"Sorry, if I upset you," he said.

Amanda smiled. "You're such a dear. No, I'm fine. It was a long time ago."

"So are we saving another child this time?" he asked. At the word "we," her head swiveled and her eyebrows rose.

"We?"

"Yeah well, I figure you need help."

"How so?"

Lord she was beautiful, he thought, and his heart pounded.

"You forget I was in the office first. I might know something."

At that, she snorted and grinned. "You were, weren't you? Well, okay then, but not here. My place at 7."

With that, he was dismissed.

"Seven then," he said happily and rose from the sand.

-------------------------------
Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

*Don't forget my blog posts from 2009 are now available as an ebook! Life, God, and Photography Volume 1.

Sure

2011-11-04T09:22:00.003-04:00

sure [shoor, shur] sur·er, sur·est, adverb, adjective
1. free from doubt as to the reliability, character, action, etc., of something: to be sure of one's data. 2. confident, as of something expected: sure of success. 3. convinced, fully persuaded, or positive: to be sure of a person's guilt. 4. assured or certain beyond question: a sure victory. 5. worthy of confidence; reliable; stable: a sure messenger.

I was listening to a worship song this morning and the word "sure" leaped out at me from the bridge. It goes:

My soul secure
Your promise sure
Your love endures...always. *

Instantly, the verse from Romans 4:16 rose up in my spirit.

Therefore it is of faith, that it might be by grace; to the end the promise might be sure to all the seed.

A sure promise! You and I are "all the seed" it is talking about here. Jesus has given us a sure promise, one that cannot be taken away. Instead, it is secure, reliable, and free from doubt.

Jesus, as Peter began to sink in the water, stretched out his hand to him and asked the question, "Wherefore didst thou doubt?" I'd like to ask you this same question today.

Wherefore did you doubt?

Okay, that question seems archaic, but it's answer is life changing. Why do we doubt when the promise is SURE to us? Instead we are to come boldly to the throne asking for help. (Heb 4:16) Why? Because we know our heavenly Father is there to help us.

Peter sank, not because of the size of the waves or the strength of the wind, he sank because he got his eyes off the sure promise. He stopped looking at Jesus.

But you know, the Word of God doesn't stop there. Paul in the book of Timothy refers to a "sure foundation."

Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure... (2Ti 2:19)

And again, in Hebrews the word "sure" returns in talking about hope.

Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast... (Heb 6:19)

A sure and stedfast hope. A sure promise. A sure foundation.

"Excuse me, I'm just going to talk to my daddy and he'll fix it."

Our heavenly Father has promised to answer when we call on him with a sincere heart. When we fix our eyes on His Word and speak faith to our situation, He said HE WILL do it. It's really that simple! (Jn 14:14)

Suddenly we're not like the sea, tossed and turned, by every wind of doctrine. (Jas 1:6) We're faith-filled confident Christians. We "know whom we have believed and are persuaded that He is able to keep it." (2Ti 1:12, author's paraphrase) We expect the answer because of the reliability of Him in whom we believe.

We are sure! Hallelujah!

* "For Who You Are" by Hillsong.

-------------------------------
Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

*Don't forget my blog posts from 2009 are now available as an ebook! Life, God, and Photography Volume 1.

Steve's Digicams - Be Yourself

2011-10-31T21:51:00.001-04:00

My article for November is up at Steve's Digicams. This article, entitled "Be Yourself," touches on the uniqueness that makes each photographer their own person.

As always, you have to read the article at their website.

Be Yourself

-------------------------------
Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

*Don't forget my blog posts from 2009 are now available as an ebook! Life, God, and Photography Volume 1.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 3

2011-10-29T07:00:00.002-04:00

Here is a link to Part 2, in case you missed it. As always, your input on the story is always appreciated!

This story continues with Part 4.

-------------------------------

"Well, don't you look comfy?"

Amanda opened her eyes to see Paul's face hanging inches away. She didn't flinch. Instead, like a cat, she stretched her legs out in front of her. A floppy hat protected her face from the summer heat; large Jackie-O sunglasses hid her eyes. With a wicked grin, she patted the sand beside her, and Paul tossed himself down.

"What exactly were you doing up there?" he asked. "You never answered my question."

"You never answered mine either," she remarked.

Paul laughed. He flicked a lock of his blonde hair out of his eyes and leaned back on his elbows.

"I was invited," he said.

"To snoop around in his office?" Amanda lowered her sunglasses, peering over the edge.

"No more so than you. I at least took the door."

"My way was more exciting," she said casually, resettling the sunglasses on her nose.

"What was in the packet anyway?"

Amanda didn't respond, and Paul turned his gaze to the beach. A family of four, mother, father, and two young girls, had set up camp nearby. Assorted beach toys - plastic pails, shovels, bags of seashells - littered the ground around them. The two girls, wearing shockingly pink bathing suits, giggled and laughed as they dashed from the water's edge back into the sand.

"I always did want kids," Paul said.

"You?" Amanda said snidely. "You can't dedicate yourself to finishing a meal, much less raising children."

"That doesn't make me want them less," he said. "Anyhow, the packet?"

Paul was persistent, if nothing else. Amanda considered for a minute how much to reveal. She'd known him a long time, trusted him with 99% of her life. But there was that 1%.

"It's not for me. It's for someone else."

"Ah, a hire job."

Not exactly, but let him think so. Amanda flicked at some sand dried on her arm.

"Be a dear, Paul, run get us a soda. You know what I like."

Paul rose to his knees before her. "Yes'm. I know what you like," and he laughed as he strolled away.

-------------------------------
Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

*Don't forget my blog posts from 2009 are now available as an ebook! Life, God, and Photography Volume 1.

Heroes

2011-10-28T15:38:00.004-04:00

Vietnam Veteran's Memorial Traveling Wall

Following the recent death of a well known sports personality, a local reporter chose to use the word "hero." Her use of this term has bothered me ever since.

I'm sure this person was a standup guy. He may have done a lot of things for the sport, and it is certainly sad that he was young. Yet it is not his fame or his money that makes him a hero. He is more a hero for being a father and a husband.

Even that is not enough. There are bad fathers and horrible husbands. We hear about them on the news every day. Instead, it is the behavior, the moral standard, of the father or husband that makes the difference.

You see, hero is a serious word that should carry with it the gravity of its application. It should never be applied lightly. Instead, it is earned, and often through great sacrifice. To assign the word "hero," requires respect for the person so named and for the deed they have done.

Today I visited the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial Traveling Wall in a nearby city. It is by far the saddest place I have been. There are 58,220 names on that wall - men who were either killed or are missing in action. However, you cannot stop there! What of the deaths from a multitude of other wars? These figures reach astronomical proportions. You cannot wrap your mind around it. Yet the truth is simple, these men are heroes. By giving their lives, they earned the respect to be called by that name.

My father served during the Vietnam War. He was fortunate to remain in the United States. He made a statement as we stood there that struck me to the heart.

"There but by the grace of God am I."

You see, these names on the wall are more than national heroes. They are personal heroes. They are people - fathers, husbands, uncles, nephews, brothers, and sons. More important than what they did is who they were to those who loved them the most.

Some people say, "It's too sad. I can't go there and see that." Then they go about their merry way and forget all about it.

But I say, "How can I not?" How can I not honor the men that these names belong to by the simple act of my being there. It is all I can give, and yet it will never be enough.

It All Began With A Salad, Part 2

2011-10-21T07:00:00.006-04:00

Here is part two of last Friday's story*, "It All Began With A Salad."

Perhaps you can help me finish it. What do you think is in the envelope? And who is Paul?

In case you missed it, here is a link to part 1.

Here is a link to part 3 of this story!

----------

“In and out, piece of cake,” Amanda mumbled and smirked. “He’ll never know what hit him.”

Everything was perfect tonight - in fact, more than perfect. What the darkness didn’t conceal, the weather definitely would. During the last hour, a sticky fog had rolled in across the bay. The light of distant street lamps gave it fantastic shapes. Swelling and stretching it swallowed all in its path.

One by one, she extended her fingers inside her black leather gloves, then balled up her fist, and opened it again. Her right hand grasped the rope and she gave it a tug. Secure. Good. Glancing again behind her, she clipped the rope to her belt and lowered herself over the side of the building.

Beneath her, the city sat silent, the only sounds the whisper of the fog and the slight scuff of her shoes as she braced them against the building. Third floor, east side, said her brain. Second window. She'd rehearsed the location in her head. The repel itself was automatic; her training always kicked in when she needed it.

Two floors down, her feet brushed against an iron railing. Swinging wide, she grasped the grate and lowered herself softly onto the balcony. The window was ajar, as promised. Unclipping the rope, silently she slid the window open and snaked herself over the sill and onto the floor.

Before her, a large wooden desk and accompanying red leather chair took precedent in the room. Light from the window caught the gilded frame of a photograph perched on its surface. The sudden rumble of voices came from outside the office door and Amanda paused as they passed.

Crossing the room, she felt across the wall for the described oil painting. Deftly removing it from the hook, she felt underneath for the cold metal door of a safe. Her hands grasped the knob. Ear pressed to its surface, she counted the clicks. Left four, right seven, left eight. With the last rotation, the door fell into a groove and popped open.

“Awesome,” she breathed into the darkness. Before her lay exactly what she had come for. This will solve everything. In triumph, she slipped a small manila envelope inside her shirt.

Suddenly, the door to the office rattled. Someone was coming. In a flash, Amanda closed the safe and re-hung the painting. There was no time to exit. Pressing herself against the wall, she sought concealment in the shadows.

The door swung inward. Yet…to her surprise, the light didn’t come on. Something was up. A slender masculine figure approached the desk and rounding it, began rifling through papers stacked there. Not finding whatever he came for, the figure then opened a drawer. The clink of objects filled the room like a siren. The figure closed the drawer and backing up brushed hard against her.

Again, her training kicked in. Grabbing the man’s arm, she twisted it behind him and pushed him tight against the wall.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!” came a desperate voice in exaggerated whisper. Wait! She knew that voice.

“Paul? What are you doing here?” she hissed. Her tone displayed her annoyance.

“Gees, Amanda, let go of my arm.”

“Tell me first what you are doing!” she insisted.

“I should ask you that,” he said.

Releasing his arm, he rotated beneath her until they were facing, their noses inches apart.

“Never mind that...”

“You look hot,” his voice teased.

“Oh give me a break. You can’t even see me!”

“But I imagine you do,” he said.

“Shut up, Paul!” She said angrily, then, “Not now!” Hastily backing up, she climbed out the window.

“Not a word of this,” she breathed.

“Cross my heart,” and he said and chuckled softly.

Snapping the rope back to her belt, she leaped the railing and began her descent to the ground below.

It All Began With A Salad

2011-10-14T09:34:00.005-04:00

It is funny what inspires a writer. It can be the most inconsequential thing. Suddenly your mind is whirring and the story forms in your head.

Well, yesterday I read a statement on a social network that did this for me. It was a photo of a glass of beer and to the side the words read, "Alcohol. Because no great story ever started with a salad."

I thought to myself, "Well, why not?" So here is my version of a great story starting with a salad. Frankly, I myself want to know how it ends, don't you?

Here is a link to part 2 of this story!

------------

Amanda squinted her eyes and angrily stabbed her fork into her salad. Her fork skidded off a cherry tomato, sending it flying from the plate. She watched as it rolled across the white tablecloth leaving an orange trail as French dressing spun away from it.

“It’s not the salad’s fault,” a voice spoke from behind her.

Turning her head, Amanda looked into the eyes of the quintessential tall, dark stranger. In a huff, she flicked her hair and went back to stabbing her salad. Her fork mounded with leaves, she crowded the entire bite into her mouth and slowly began to chew.

The stranger hadn’t moved; she could feel him standing there and this made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Goose pimples rose on her flesh. Forcing herself to remain calm, she leaned across the table to spear the lost tomato.

A hand descended, a dark-skinned male hand, and plucked the tomato up, leaving her fork poised overhead. Amanda’s gaze followed the hand up a strong, hairy arm until her eyes once again rested on the face of the stranger. He popped the tomato into his mouth and smiled.

If steam could have literally spouted from her ears at that moment, Amanda believed it would have happened. She didn’t regret the loss of the tomato, but who did this guy think he was?

“Do you mind?” he asked and gestured toward the seat across the table.

She minded…a lot…and glared at him to say so. Still smiling, he seated himself unasked. With a gulp, she swallowed her bite of salad and rested her fork on the edge of the plate.

“And you are?” her voice sounded icy.

“Not important,” the stranger said, “But I have a message for you.”

Amanda arched her eyebrow at the stranger and leaned back in her chair. The stranger did the same. Crossing his right leg over his left, his slacks made a raspy noise.

“Shoot then,” she responded. At that moment, a waiter came to the table and bowed to the stranger.

“Sir, what can I get you?” he said in a distinguished voice. Amanda resented the waiter as much as she resented the stranger. She really just wanted to be left alone to stew in her anger for an evening.

“Water ,” said the stranger and the waiter nodded his head. Amanda stared fixedly as a stray hair from his balding head waved oddly in the wind of the overhead ceiling fans. Unnoticed, it flopped back into place as he left the table.

Her eyes locked with the stranger’s. She tried to read who he was through his physical features. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, unmarried (there was no ring), and he was very fastidious. From the crease in his pants to an evenly buttoned shirt and heavily starched collar to perfectly slicked black hair, nothing was out of place.

“You were saying?” her voice came out impatient. She wanted him to feel like he had interrupted an important event, forget that it was only a salad.

“Ah yes, I have a message for you.” His hand reached into the pocket of his shirt and removed a tiny slip of paper. Casually, he tossed it in her direction. Amanda wiped her hands on a nearby napkin and picking up the paper, unfolded it gently.

Her pulse began to race when she read its words. This changed everything. Now, she knew what to do. Tonight, it would happen tonight. With a smirk, she looked up at the stranger.

“Thank you,” she said. Her voice said he was dismissed. Calmly she went back to eating her salad. Somehow, now it tasted much better now…much, much better.

Life, God, and Photography, Volume 1

2011-10-11T19:00:00.003-04:00

Exciting news! My inspirational blogs for the year 2009 have been compiled into a digital ebook. Included are inspirational Bible articles, personal notes, and photography tips.

Purchase can be made through Amazon Whispernet (for direct Kindle downloads) or at Smashwords. If you are unfamiliar with Smashwords. Here are the digital formats of html, javascript, pdf, mobi (Kindle), epub (Apple iPad/iBooks, Nook, Sony Reader, Kobo, Stanza, Aldiko, Adobe Digital Editions), lrf (Sony Readers), and Palm Doc (pdb).

Price is only $1.99!

I plan on releasing 2010 in the coming months.

Life, God, and Photography

Volume 1

$1.99

Amazon
Smashwords

Five Things To Know About Job

2011-10-09T19:10:00.002-04:00

1. He repented.

Therefore I loathe [my words] and abhor myself and repent in dust and ashes. (Job 42:6 AMP)

2. He prayed.

So Eliphaz the Temanite and Bildad the Shuhite and Zophar the Naamathite went and did as the Lord commanded them; and the Lord accepted [Job's prayer]. (Job 42:9 AMP)

3. He was restored.

And the Lord turned the captivity of Job and restored his fortunes, when he prayed for his friends; also the Lord gave Job twice as much as he had before. (Job 42:10 AMP)

4. He was blessed.

And the Lord blessed the latter days of Job more than his beginning; for he had 14,000 sheep, 6,000 camels, 1,000 yoke of oxen, and 1,000 female donkeys. (Job 42:12)

5. He lived a long life.

So Job died, an old man and full of days. (Job 42:17)

Go ahead, compare yourself to Job.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Life and Death In Rebel Prisons by Robert H. Kellogg

2011-10-02T09:03:00.002-04:00

Originally published in 1865, this book is not one you would pick up at your corner bookstore. It's not even one you'd come across in a general book search. It was recommended to me as a "must have" for my recent research on the topic of prisoners of war.

I found this copy through Abebooks.com, one of the best websites for locating obscure books. When I purchased it, I had the option of buying a newer reprint. However, I chose to spend my dollars on an original printing although it is in terrible shape (and was sold to me as such). To hold something from that time period in your hands is quite something, and for it to be a book so meaningful to its author makes it more sobering.

Robert H. Kellogg was Sergeant-Major in the 16th Regiment of the Connecticut Volunteers when he was captured by Confederate forces during the American Civil War and taken prisoner of war to the stockade in Andersonville, Georgia. As General Sherman approached the area in his march through Georgia, he was moved through Charleston to another stockade in Florence, South Carolina. (The Andersonville camp was emptied at this time and all prisoners were sent to other areas.)

It was through determination and faith that he survived his experience when so many did not. This book details his experiences and the suffering of all those who found themselves in his shoes.

You cannot read a book like this without a great deal of thought. It is a weighty subject. From the opening lines of the book:

"No chapter in this history of our unhappy civil war, is so well calculated to enlist the sympathies of the people, as the one enumerating the sorrows of our brave soldiers who have been so unfortunate as to fall into the hands of the enemy, as prisoners of war."

To his statement at the end:

"As we conclude the sad story of suffering in which our youthful soldiers have borne so conspicuous a part, we are compelled to pause and admire their noble endurance, ther cheerful sacrifices, and patriotic devotion to country amid want and hardship. They deserve a rich and lasting tribute..."

you really get a feel for the author's heart. He wanted everyone to know and no one to forget. It is sobering to realize that at the war's very end, he already felt this way. You would think that four years of civil war, a war that affected every household, would have driven it into their thinking permanently.

The language of the book is a bit flowery, as it tends to be during that time period. However, it is also truthful. The author tells of the great deprivations the captured soldiers were forced to suffer. One cannot realize, given our mentality of today, what is like to have nothing, barely even clothing to wear. The captured soldiers were given no housing. Rain, cold, sun, it all fell on them equally - nothing was provided as shelter. They were given a small stipend of food - most of the time this was cornbread made from corn cobs, sometimes rice. It was always uncooked. They were required to find their own fuel and light their own fire. They were given no fresh water and though they could buy soap, there was no where to wash. On rare occasions, they'd have beans, which were usually full of bugs, and even rarer, meat. They were never given vegetables.

As a result, scurvy was rampant. Other diseases also took their toll - dysentery and malaria were common. Gangrene was another problem. Robert Kellogg himself almost lost his hand to it. He had developed a sore on it which became infected. At one point, the surgeons decided to amputate (that being the only alternative to sure death) and he was taken in before his surgery and left to watch another man have his arm removed. Kellogg was wide awake at the time. In the end, the surgeons decided to give him another chance and he survived his experiences with his hand.

There was very little medical care. In the map of both prisons, an area is labeled "hospital," but this was not at all what we think of in this day. The author very plainly states that most went into the hospital to die. There wasn't any more shelter there than anywhere else, nor more food, nor more clothing. You laid on the ground, and if it rained you got wet. If you couldn't walk, you laid in the wet. Due to Union blockades, medicines were hard to come by, and prisoners were on the bottom of the list to receive any. As a result of the lack of knowledge of that day and the lack of supplies, many men died. Kellogg states it became easier to die than it was to live.

It must be stated that of all the prison camps, Andersonville is by far listed as the worst. Many refer to it as America's holocaust. Robert Kellogg became convinced in his stay there that their deplorable treatment was a deliberate act on the part of the Confederate government to "destroy them." This has been much debated since then, but I submit we should stop and listen to the words of a man who was actually there.

Half of the author's captured regiment died in Andersonville within seven months. He speculates the death figures from Confederate camps across the south to be some 74,000 men. That figure is staggering to me! He also comments on how local women would come to visit the Confederate soldiers only to stand and stare and laugh. Outside help was strictly forbidden.

Now, I do not expect people to run out and buy this book. It is not light, easy reading. But how could I not with my words honor the author and all those he watched suffer and die.

I'd like to end with his own words.

A leaf of a geranium, withered and faded, lay upon the table as I sat musing upon these things, and the fragile thing, broken from its stem, suggest points of contrast between itself and that living, breathing plant of human society, which had been torn from the place where it had been wont to grow, and made to droop and die in consequence. A fragrance, rich and sweet, came from the crushed and bruised leaf, more diffusive by reason of pressure, and it raised the inquiry, whether there might not be, after all, holier and more blessed influences attending the hidden properties which a mighty power had wrung out of the heart of the nation, that would have been apparent if it had never been subjected to such a process?

The delicate juices which conveyed such odor to my grateful senses, were as a voice that told how the country had been enriched by what had been evolved in the struggle to which it was called, and how individuals had been blessed, because the springs had been touched which opened the cells where the most precious incense was stored.

Altogether, it whispered of the power and blessedness of sacrifice, for it made manifest the value of those costly offerings which have been laid upon the nation's altar, and which so many have thought to be in vain. It invested the sighs, tears and groans that have been involved, with a peculiar sacredness, for they have no unimportant mission to perform in creating the more fragrant atmosphere which is to surround the people of coming time."

Steve's Digicams Article, October 2011

2011-10-02T09:01:00.003-04:00

In this article, I go through the thought process behind making a memorable photograph, throwing in a little humor along the way.

The Thought Process: Creating Memorable Photographs

Suspension

2011-09-19T18:51:00.003-04:00

I was thinking about trust today and it came back to me what I learned in my struggles. Trusting God is like being completely suspended. Think of a skydiver, only remove the parachute. THAT'S what it's like trusting God.

You see, whenever we are leaning on something, we aren't really trusting God. If I feel secure in any way - I have a foothold underneath me. I have something to grasp onto (a death grip) - then I am relying on my power, not God's.

Trust, true trust, is scary. Remember Peter walking on the water? That was trust. His physical weight was greater than the water's surface. Don't you think he knew that before he stepped out? There weren't any floats, buoys, or life vests in the boat. No one was there to take his hand. He had to rely entirely on Jesus' words.

Trusting God means you are completely out of control. It is total surrender. It means God has the control. You might not know what's coming up next, but you know God is smart enough, big enough, and powerful enough, He loves you enough to never let you fall.

Ask yourself today. Is He on your side or isn't He? Do you trust Him or not?

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Research Request

2011-09-18T08:05:00.002-04:00

I am looking for personal accounts from anyone who either (a) served in Vietnam or (b) had a family member that did. I am especially interested if your relative or friend is missing in action. Anything you tell me will be held in the strictest confidence.

I am doing this research to write a fictional account with a character who is involved in the conflict. Any insight is helpful and will allow me to be more accurate in my depiction.

I can be reached via email at scw1217@yahoo.com or scw1217@gmail.com. Thank you.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

A Walk In The Park

2011-09-13T06:41:00.004-04:00

My husband and I went to a local park Saturday, something we rarely have time to do together. We walked into the midst of some water fowl gathered together for a handout. Someone had just previously been feeding them, so they looked to us for more. We didn't have any. But it did provide some good photograph opportunities. I thought I'd share a few pictures here.

I don't know why, but this is my favorite shot. This is a female Boattailed Grackle. They are frightfully common scavenger birds. You will find them in every parking lot looking for free crumbs. The open mouth is a way they cool off. The day was warm, but more so if you sat in the direct sunlight.

This bird is a Limpkin, not to be confused vocally with a "limpet," which is a shellfish. They aren't seen everywhere in the U.S. and in fact, I have a friend who would really like to see one, but they are not found where he lives. I seem to be on a roll spotting these this year. Good year for Limpkins, I guess.

Here is another common water bird, the white ibis. Surprisingly, it is not native to my area though, but is now well established. This one was amongst the crowd looking for free food. He (no idea if it really was a "he") followed us a ways down the pathway.

This picture shows a juvenile Purple Gallinule, female. This adorable bird came almost directly up to my husband's hand. See video below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_33ysc4R6Yg

We saw numerous other things. The full set of photographs is up at my Webshots. However, I would lastly like to share this snake. It's ID confused me at first because of the bright coloration. But someone way smarter than I has identified it as a young Southern Watersnake. They apparently darken as they get older.

Steve's Digicams Article, September 2011

2011-09-02T21:37:00.002-04:00

My September article is now online at Steve's Digicams. Embrace the sunrise with me!

Photographing the Sunrise

Steve's Digicams Article, August 2011

2011-09-01T15:01:00.002-04:00

My August article for Steve's Digicams in now online!

How to Be A Beginner

Point of Focus

2011-08-14T13:34:00.002-04:00

When I took this photograph, the sunrise wasn't really any different than other sunrises. The flowers in my garden were the same in appearance that they are at any other time of day, and I started to take the same old photograph I've taken from that vantage point. It would have been beautiful too. But instead, my gaze shifted to create an image a little out of the ordinary. I altered my focus from the sun, which was dominant in the sky, to the effect its light gave the flower. In photography, we call this "point of focus."

I read a statement the other day, which applies to this thought from outside of photography.

We must quit looking at our own abilities and failures and limitations and start looking to God.

In the same manner that I created this image of the flower holding the sun, the answer is in our point of focus. One author described it as the struggle of a wrestling match. He said his mind and heart "teeter back and forth between attitudes that are life-giving and those that bring darkness." He then went on to state, "On a given day, I can be filled with praise and gratitude one minute and then overcome by fear or anger in the next." *

Oh, how well I identify with those statements! We must get our eyes off of what we can or cannot do and place them on who God is.

I like the words of 1 Corinthians 4:6 from The Message Bible. It says in part, "It's important to look at things from God's point of view." Think about that - God's point of view! You see, the fact is, as long as we continue to look at the size of the problem, the problem will remain large, too big to handle. All we'll see is the sun, and we'll miss the beauty of the flower.

I say this all the time, but God is GREATER than your problem. He is BIGGER. He is HIGHER. He is MORE THAN ENOUGH. God's desire is for your success, so lift up your eyes and look at where your help comes from! (Ps 121:1-2) Look at WHO your help is! Change your point of focus.

Instead of failure, expect triumph. Expect God to DO what He said he would DO. You know, sometimes we can't see it. I have things facing me today that I can't explain, I can't fix, and I don't know what to do about. I have major decisions I must think about. Yet the solution is not mine to make. My job is to focus on God and let Him work the answer. He's strong enough and wise enough for that! (2Sam 22:30)

*"More Than Ordinary: Enjoying Life With God," by Doug Sherman

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Butterflies

2011-08-08T19:01:00.002-04:00

The butterflies have finally picked up for the summer. As the flowers in my garden begin to fade, they flit to and fro searching for nectar.

Spicebush Swallowtail Butterflies

(Male and Female)

To view more pictures of this species of butterflies, visit my Webshots album.

Female Tiger Swallowtail Butterfly (Dark Form)

Cloudless Sulphur Butterfly

Gulf Fritillary Butterfly

Horace's Duskywing Skipper

Monarch Butterfly

To view more photos from my garden this year, view my Webshots.

Why Did You Doubt?

2011-08-02T07:00:00.003-04:00

And in the fourth watch of the night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea. (26) And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit; and they cried out for fear. (27) But straightway Jesus spake unto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid. (28) And Peter answered him and said, Lord, if it be thou, bid me come unto thee on the water. (29) And he said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the ship, he walked on the water, to go to Jesus. (30) But when he saw the wind boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me. (31) And immediately Jesus stretched forth his hand, and caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt? (32) And when they were come into the ship, the wind ceased. (Matthew 14:25-32)

This event in Peter's life came after he witnessed Jesus feed a multitude of people with five loaves and two fish. You'd think that would be enough to vanish any doubt! Yet when Peter began to sink, his faith faltered. My question is the same as Jesus' was, "Why?" What caused him to doubt?

People always say, "Well, he looked at the water and became afraid."

Yes, that's true. But read Jesus' own words in this paragraph. Jesus stated to Peter and the other disciples, "It is I, be not afraid." Here is the solution! With those words, Jesus gave Peter the only information he needed to walk on the water. It's not solely that the waves were so huge or the wind so strong. Instead, Peter had stopped looking at Jesus.

When I was at the bottom of life, crippled by fear, the one thing that lifted me up was keeping my eyes, my focus, on God. As I meditated on His greatness, my mind became renewed and my faith increased. Doubt came when I stopped looking. The apostle Paul stated this in Hebrews 12:2.

Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith.

Jesus is the beginning and ending (the answer) of our faith. To have a manifestation of what I am believing God for, to see its fulfillment, I must continue gazing at Him.

It's not enough to know not to doubt because doubts come everyday. Despite the marvelous things God has done for me, sometimes the doubts creep in and begin to choke me. (Mt 13:22;Mk 4:19) They come as I lose sight of who God really is, as I forget what Jesus did, as the Holy Spirit becomes distant to me. No, I must know what to do to prevent doubt.

I made this statement the other day.

Live as if God is reliable. Expect Him to be who He says He is.

This is the solution to doubt. Any time I am wavering, I need only look at my failed expectations of the Father. Did I really pray expecting Him to answer?

Christianity is a relationship. In any relationship, you spend time with the other person until you can choose for them. You can order their meal at a restaurant. You know what they will say at any given moment. I can answer for my spouse or my daughter in many situations because of the time I have spent with them. I know their likes and dislikes. I know when not to answer as well. I know when they'd say "no."

Our relationship with God, with the Father, with Jesus Christ, and with the Holy Spirit, should be the same. There isn't a doubt in me that God loves me. I know it. You can't take that from me. I have no doubts that He wants only the best for me. At no point in time will He ever "put things on me" to teach me anything. That is not in His nature or His desires. I know because I've spent time in His presence - time in prayer, time in worship.

There is the answer to doubt.

For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day. (2 Timothy 1:12)

One Life At A Time - Repost

2011-07-26T07:12:00.004-04:00

Every now and then, the Lord reminds me of something I wrote in the past. Every day when I pray, I have this circle of children I pray for, my own daughter, the children of my friends, and even kids whose parents I don't know, but the Lord has laid them on my heart.

I cannot stress enough how important it is to lift their lives up in prayer. We can only change society one life at a time, and though we may not get any pats on the back for it, the rewards of our time spent in prayer are HUGE. I encourage you to read this article and then take time from your day to lift the children to the Lord in prayer.

"Lord, take these precious lives and today have one person tell them they are loved..."

One Life At A Time

How You Loved Me

2011-07-22T17:31:00.003-04:00

I wanted to share this video. The words speak loudly to me tonight and become my gratitude - Thanks, God, for loving me.

Sidewalk Prophets
You Loved Me Anyway

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Write The Vision

2011-07-20T08:41:00.003-04:00

And the LORD answered me, and said, Write the vision, and make it plain upon tables, that he may run that readeth it. (Habakkuk 2:2)

Lately, I find myself totally uninspired. I can't write anything. I can't create anything. The ideas do not come to me. I do not know where to begin. It's like I have hit a mental brick wall.

It came to me this morning that part of my problem is a lack of vision. Until I know where I am headed, I cannot begin. With anything creative, I must see it beforehand. Even laying out all the requirements of the task doesn't help. They become just so many items on a list, almost making the job harder instead of easier.

For the vision is yet for an appointed time, but at the end it shall speak, and not lie: though it tarry, wait for it; because it will surely come, it will not tarry. (Habakkuk 2:3)

I try thinking it out, sorting what needs to be done. Sometimes I take a general stab at it. But I don't really know where I'm going, what I'm trying to do, and it's time spent wasted. It leaves me with a headache, exhausted.

I refuse to become frustrated because this happens to everyone at some point. Waiting is the only therapy. I must sit patiently and ride this out. I sit knowing each day is time I should spend being productive. Yet there is no other option; I must believe that the vision will come.

For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. But when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come. (Matthew 4:28-29)

I rose up this morning with finally the grain of an idea in my head. It has taken me days to get this far. But that one grain is right now like a great light. It gives me hope to complete what is set before me. For today, it is enough.

Maybe tomorrow I will complete this. Maybe it will be the day after. Who knows! In the mean time, I will allow this idea time and space to grow for ideas germinated are always way better than those forced into being.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Steve's Digicams Article - The Basic Truths of Editing

2011-07-18T07:58:00.003-04:00

My July 2011 article, "The Basic Truths of Editing," is now up at Steve's Digicams. In this article, I discuss how you can know when you've done enough editing. I also describe something I call "overkill."

I encourage you to visit the link and take a read!

The Basic Truths of Editing

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

My Grandmother's Banana Bread

2011-07-16T09:51:00.002-04:00

Banana bread recipes are a dime a dozen. This one belongs to my grandmother, Juanita, and is the best, in my opinion, but then I am prejudiced.

1 stick butter
3/4 cup sugar
1 egg
1 cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/8 teaspoon salt
1-2 ripe bananas, mashed
1/2 cup chopped pecans

Cream butter and sugar.
Add egg. Mix well.
Add dry ingredients.
Add bananas. Stir well.
Stir in pecans.
Bake in greased loaf pan at 325 (F) for 55 minutes.
Cool 10 minutes before removing from pan.
Cool 2-3 minutes before slicing.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Who am I?

2011-07-06T14:02:00.003-04:00

Who am I?

Sometimes I am a confident woman. I know I can do it. The weather's great; the sun is shining. All things work in my favor.

But sometimes, I am a girl curled-up, sniveling on the couch, waiting for the world to pass by. I am the one making irrational decisions, not thinking clearly. I am trembling and afraid.

Then again, sometimes I am the loudmouth who just said the wrong thing - again. I hate being her! My words like darts are aimed at my family and friends.

Who am I? Am I a composite of events, thoughts, and feelings? Am I a photographer or a writer? a mother or a daughter? a wife? a Christian? a friend?

I am a collection of images - the down-side of me, the hater, bitter and angry; the cry-baby, unsure, ineffective, and inept; the up-side of me, things are grand and I can handle it. I am productive, determined, and successful. I like one side of me more than the other.

Who am I?

I am the things I hide. The stories I never tell. The pictures I don't take. I am all these things. I am the people who don't like me, the situations I don't handle correctly, the mistakes I will make.

But more than any of that, more than any one side or piece of me, I am forgiven. Jesus Christ gave me that. He took all the fragments that make up me, the bad, unpleasant, and ugly, and reconciled them together. I laid them at the cross, and He removed them.

Now, I am loved, and I am free.

Forgive Me by Rebecca St. James

America The Beautiful

2011-06-24T06:00:00.000-04:00

America The Beautiful

I pulled this video from the vault and revamped it a bit. It originally was used as the credits for a much longer video. However, I felt that not enough people got to hear the wonderful harmonies of the United States Air Force choir. The photos were all licensed Creative Commons from various locations.

Enjoy!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Steve's Digicams Article - Flash Photography (or NOT)

2011-06-23T07:12:00.003-04:00

My Steve's Digicams article for June 2011 is now online. In this article I explore the reasons FOR and AGAINST using the flash, also the proper usage of the flash for optimal results. If you've read my columns in the past, then you can rest at ease that this is NOT a technical tutorial on lighting distances and expensive flash methods. Instead, I give simple ideas that just might have you less afraid to utilize your flash again.

Flash Photograph (or NOT)

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

The Rewards of Gardening

2011-06-22T08:46:00.004-04:00

Sometimes gardening brings great rewards. Oh, it's a lot of work. In the summer months, if we do not have regular rainfall, time is required for watering. Even drought-tolerate plants occasionally need water. In the winter, surprising to many, our yard can get really cold. One winter the temperature fell to 16 degrees (Fahrenheit). At those times, cold-sensitive plants must be shielded or moved. My husband and I have walked great distances toting potted plants in and out of our garden shed, and I have done load after load of laundry, washing blankets covered in dirt, leaves, and mulch.

Threadwaisted Wasp

It can become frustrating. No one wants to work outdoors when the temperatures are 97 degrees (F). My husband has carried many a heavy bucket of water into the field. There is also the weeding and trimming to do. But generally speaking, I like gardening. I love planting seeds, just to see if they come up. I find digging in the dirt a therapy; it is peaceful. I don't mind the annual fall clean-up, where dead plants are removed and the beds are returned to a more structured shape. Yes, gardening is work.

Horace's Duskywing Skipper Butterfly

But gardening in the end is about the reward. It is sharing the beauty we have grown there with others. It is reaping the vegetables that we've sown. It is sitting with friends to watch the butterflies. Yet the greatest reward is all the smaller bounties that come from the garden. So much LIFE is found there. It's all the bees (who knew there were so many species?), wasps of many shapes and sizes, multiple colorful butterflies, even the crickets and grasshoppers, that I am fond of the most.

Bee on Zinnia

And, most especially, it is the hummingbirds! All our time and efforts come to complete fruition in the early mornings and late evenings as our two (male and female) feathered friends buzz past us, moving from flower to flower. It is then we hold our breath, willing them to stay as long as possible, that our all efforts become worth it.

Female Ruby-throat Hummingbird

If you'd like to see more of this year's garden, visit my Webshots.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

The Secret Holocaust

2011-06-18T07:59:00.003-04:00

"The Secret Holocaust Diaries"
by Nonna Bannister, Denise George, and Carolyn Tomlin

I read a lot of books, and I do not feel obligated to comment on all of them. However, now and again one crosses my desk that moves me more than the others. These are the books I learn something from. I come away afterward knowing more and thinking a lot more about myself. This book, the published diaries of Nonna Lisowskaja Bannister, is one such book.

Any account of the Holocaust should move you. It was a horrible, dark time in the world's history, and one that it is virtually impossible to wrap one's mind around. Like all school children, I was taught about the events that surrounded it, how it affected the world, and the genocide of the Jewish people. Yet in reading Nonna Bannister's personal account, I learned so much that I still did not know.

Nonna Bannister was born Nonna Lisowskaja in the Ukraine. She grew up as Josef Stalin was taking power and communism began to come into effect. I admit, past a very basic knowledge, I was ignorant of the more personal effect of this time in history. It's easy to read a general historical account where death figures are given and its another thing entirely to read it in the words of someone who was there. And yet, this someone was at that time a child. Her child's eye view made it all that much more poignant.

When World War II broke out and Germany swept into Russia, Nonna's family found themselves thrust into the midst of it. Here again, was something I had heard of - how Germany broke the non-aggression pact between these two countries, only to find themselves frozen, starving, and unable to accomplish their task. But put it on a personal level, in the words of one family whose love for each other cannot stop the greed of man, and it is horrifying.

The story descends from her happiest of childhood memories to a scene where her elder brother is gone, sent away to prevent his being placed into the communist army. Her father, found hiding in a basement, has been beaten, his eyes carved out, and her mother is left scrounging amongst the emptied homes of people who have fled the country, to find a place for them to live, food for them to eat, and firewood to warm them in what was the coldest Russian winter. Eventually, there is nothing left. Their relatives are killed when Soviet trains are bombed, and Nonna watches her father die, sees a German soldier plunge his knife into him just to prove he is dead. All I could think was, "These people were not Jewish." I had never considered how high was the cost to other races of people, like the Soviets.

Nonna and her mother, in the belief that it would be better for them, voluntarily left their homeland and to live in work camps in Germany at places like Flossenberg. (I had never heard of Flossenberg before reading this book. It is well worth your time looking it up.) Here they are eventually separated and just weeks before the liberation of Germany, her mother is killed following an illness brought on when her arms and fingers were broken in a fit of Nazi rage. When the war ends, Nonna alone was left of her family. Yet the truth is that she was not alone because this happened to so many others.

Nonna Bannister hid her diary and her photographs throughout the war, and even after the war, after she married in 1951, she never told her story to anyone not even her spouse. This book is the result of her own translations of her diaries. (It includes the authors' additional historical notes.) Following her death, the original pages of her diary were never found. Her family supposes they were somehow buried with her.

I encourage you to read this book, but not for entertainment, nor because it is a literary-genius work. No, read it so you will learn something, so you will be grateful for what you have and to help you remember what others have given up.

There are a selection of Nonna Bannister's images online, which can be viewed at this link.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Blackeyed Susans

2011-06-11T12:00:00.001-04:00

A year ago, I planted from a seed packet a few Blackeyed Susans. Eventually, I had this small patch of them in my garden to admire for the season. The season ended and I did my usual garden clean-up, removing dead and decayed plants, but careful to toss any dried seed heads back onto the soil.

As a gardener, you never know from year to year what will sprout. Some years there is a lot of one particular plant and others very little of it. I like the constant surprise, the never knowing. Well, this year I am inundated with Blackeyed Susans. From that one tiny circle of blossoms, I have an entire flower garden full of their happy, yellow faces. They have sprouted all across the bed, in multiple locations.

They are the cheeriest of flowers. I simply cannot photograph them enough, so here is my view of their beauty for you to behold.

Here is a video.

For more Views from My Garden, visit my Webshots.

The Champion

2011-06-10T09:27:00.003-04:00

And you, who were dead in trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, having canceled the bond which stood against us with its legal demands; this he set aside, nailing it to the cross. He disarmed the principalities and powers and made a public example of them, triumphing over them in him. (Colossians 2:13-15 RSV)

There is a song called "The Champion," released in 1985 and sung by popular entertainer, Carmen, which tells the story of Jesus' victory over the devil from the perspective of a prize fight. I can remember seeing him perform it in person at a local church-sponsored concert. It's a fantastic journey into the art of storytelling. Yet there is truth to the thought behind the song.

If you define the word "champion," one source states, "Someone who has been a winner in a contest," or, "Someone who is chosen to represent a group of people in a contest." Another gives it as, "a person who has defeated all others in a competition," and then as a verb, "to support; defend." This same source has a definition I particularly like, "A warrior or knight who did battle for another, esp a king or queen, to defend their rights or honour." The word itself comes from a Latin root meaning, "battlefield."

Now, all that is fascinating and a lot of food for thought, but I want to extend the analogy even further and take you more into the mind of the King James Bible translators. In the Medieval world, a champion was one hired to do combat for the rights of another. There were champions dating back to Roman times, but the typical romantic ideal comes from the time of William the Conqueror. It was what we'd today call "a duel." One party would fight another until either one was killed or he called out, "Craven," which in effect was, "I give up."

The battle could be because of any number of things, land disputes, a crime, etc., and was recognized as legal. You could choose either a trial by jury or a "trial by combat." Following the battle, the defeated foe was "declared infamous, deprived of the privileges of a freeman, and [made] liable for damages to his successful opponent." In extreme cases, the loser was sometimes hung, given he had survived.

This brings me back to the opening verses from Colossians 2. There is more to Jesus' resurrection than just an empty tomb. Jesus defeated the devil and all that the devil stands for. He became for us our champion. He legally settled any claim the devil had over us. In the King James Bible, it says He "spoiled principalities and powers." (v15) This thought is again a bit archaic in our modern thinking, but essentially it means they were made useless. (e-sword.net)

Useless means "not serving any purpose." Think about that! Poverty is useless. Sickness is useless. Fear is useless. Anything the devil has tried to "put on" you is useless, it serves no purpose for you, for Satan has been completely defeated. What? Did you think Jesus did a half-way job? No! He "triumphed" over Satan...OPENLY. He didn't hide what He'd done. In fact, he displayed it. He made of Satan a "public example," saying, "Look here at what is useless, at what is futile!"

Now, I know that the world is full of sorrow and many troubles; death surrounds us every day. But we are to be like the man of Psalm 91:7-8, sitting in heavenly places, made inaccessible (AMP) to what the devil desires to do in our lives. We shouldn't roll over and accept things! No, Satan is defeated! As all the world falls around us, God has sent us a champion, Jesus, who defended our honor and restored to us the rightful place in His kingdom. It's legal, and it's yours!

"But," you say, "How do I get there? How do I come to this place of peace and joy, safety and happiness, victory, and deliverance?" Through determination. Through prayer. Through daily meditation in the Scriptures. Through faith in what Jesus has done for you. Through confession of God's promises.

Stand up today with the redeemed and "say so!" Victory is found in praise and worship. Joy is found in your rejoicing!

O give thanks unto the LORD, for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever. Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he hath redeemed from the hand of the enemy. (Psalm 107:2)

The Satisfied Soul

2011-05-31T12:00:00.004-04:00

What is worship? I can tell you it is more than 3 songs on Sunday, a prayer on Wednesday evening, and a random daily Bible verse reading. Worship is an intense longing for something or someone. It is urgent desire.

I love the words of Psalm 63, but notice the desperation phrased in verse 1.

O GOD, You are my God, earnestly will I seek You; my inner self thirsts for You, my flesh longs and is faint for You. (Ps 63:1 AMP)

"Earnestly," "thirsts," "longs," and "faint," these are strong words! The psalmist cries out, "My flesh longs to see Your power and glory, Lord." (v2) Then in he goes on to say, "My lips shall praise thee," and, "Thus will I bless thee while I live: I will lift up my hands in thy name." (v3-4)

He has chosen to worship.

But why? Why the longing? Why the intensity of desire? It is to come to the place of the soul described in verse 5.

My soul shall be satisfied...

Worship brings satisfaction to the soul. Satisfaction is complete contentment. It is total fulfillment of every need or want, rest and peace, joy and happiness. Satisfaction comes as the result of worship.

Through worship, I restore myself to the place God needs me to be, in surrender, and I restore God to the place He needs to be, in control. Any other arrangement will not work. If my decisions are higher than God's for me, then I will fail.

Worship is relationship and it is intimate. That is a new concept for some - intimacy with God. Yet Christ Himself prayed we'd be "one" with God as He was "one" with God. (Jn 17:22) This is unity! Just imagine where unity with God will take you!

But as it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. (1Co 2:9)

I haven't even begun to grasp what God has prepared for me. What has God prepared for you? Satisfaction? Take the limits off of God, my friend, and worship.

FURTHER READING: Psalm 107:5-9

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Put God in His Place

2011-05-21T06:00:00.002-04:00

If ever a book needed to be read, A.W. Tozer's book, "The Pursuit of God," is it. I have never been so humbled by my humanity and more willing to change than I have when reading this book.

There is a section which I'd like to place here for you to read and meditate on. In it he speaks about our position with God, plainly stating that our satisfaction in life only comes when we have put God into the proper place.

"We must begin with God. We are right when and only when we stand in a right position relative to God, and we are wrong so far and so long as we stand in any other position."

"Much of our difficulty as seeking Christians stems from our unwillingness to take God as He is and adjust our lives accordingly. We insist upon trying to modify Him and to bring Him nearer to our own image...We can get a right start only by accepting God as He is and learning to love Him for what He is. As we go on to know Him better we shall find it a source of unspeakable joy that God is just what He is. Some of the most rapturous moments we know will be those we spend in reverent admiration of the Godhead. In those holy moments the very thought of change in Him will be to painful to endure."

"So let us begin with God. Back of all, above all, before all is God; first in sequential order, above in rank and station, exalted in dignity and honor. As the self-existent One He gave being to all things, and all things exist out of Him and for Him. 'Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive glory and honour and power. for thou hast created all things, and for thy pleasure they are and were created.'"

A.W. Tozer's thoughts echo the Scriptures themselves. A passage in Isaiah 40 comes immediately to mind, which has been much in my thoughts lately.

Verse 19 queries:

To whom then will you liken God, or what likeness compare with him?*

Then in verse 25 this is repeated.

To whom then will you compare me, that I should be like him? says the Holy One.

I find myself asking this question over and over again, and then today I saw a video where a gentleman put it all into perspective. We constantly strive to bring God down to our level. In everything we do, we want Him to conform to our thinking. He must make decisions we understand, within our realm of stature and ideas.

Yet what if we put God into the place He should be - exalted above all, not moldable to our frail human methods? What does it say in Isaiah 55:8-9?

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

Higher thoughts! Higher ways! Do we really want to serve a God who is unable, unwilling, and uncaring?

"But,' you say, "I don't understand why..."

That's just it though. We don't understand because He is so much HIGHER than we are. We must take the limitations off of God. We must remove the restrictions of our thinking. True freedom comes when we let go of ourselves and allow God to be God, when we restore Him to the place of honor and ability that no other can possibly hold.

We must begin with God, and we must end with God. We must daily, minute-by-minute be ever subordinate to Him, always aware He is greater than we are. He is wiser than we are. It is in this right placing of spiritual relationship that we will find happiness, joy, and success. Anything else is outside of His ability because it is our abilities.

The truth is, we will never be able to do what it is in God's place to do for us in the first place.

* Quoted Isaiah verses are from the Revised Standard Version.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

In My Garden

2011-05-20T11:50:00.005-04:00

Nothing makes me happier than time spent in my garden. Crouched in the grass or stooped in some awkward position, I seek for the most overlooked and neglected insects. Tiny damselflies float on the air like wisps of the wind.

Citrine Forktail Damselfly

Duckweed Firetail Damselflies

In the garden, I surround myself with beautiful flowers and flashy insects, their colors lighting up my lens.

Black-eyed Susan

Red Admiral Butterfly

American Painted Lady Butterfly

Even the bees and wasps are welcome here to fly amongst the blossoms and seeds.

Polistes dorsalis Wasp

Milkweed Seeds

In the garden, I forget all my cares. Suddenly, nothing matters but sound and scent, light and life.

To view more photos from my garden, visit Webshots.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Two New Steve's Digicams Blogs

2011-05-14T08:53:00.003-04:00

There was some unforeseen delay in these being posted. Therefore, they have both appeared online at the same time. The articles are unrelated in topic. The first article entitled, "I Live My Life In Pictures," is my thoughts on photography as it affects me personally. The second article is on achieving sharpness in a photograph.

I Live My Life In Pictures

Sharpness

Take a read and leave me a comment!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

In the Missing

2011-05-07T06:00:00.003-04:00

There are some things that happen which just beg to be written down, and for me, this is one of them. It is such a simple story really, but one I cannot shake out of my mind.

I was standing in line at the grocery store waiting my turn, when the elderly couple in front of me grabbed my attention. Since my grandparents passed away, this soft place has formed in my heart. I so miss my grandmother's hugs and long to hear my grandfather's voice. But you know how it goes. Time flows past, and though the memory of them remains, there are days where I don't think of them as much. Preoccupied with living, temporarily they fade from view. Until something startles me and it all comes flooding back.

Soft hands.
Warm voices.
Love.

There in the line ahead of me this couple, so apparently reliant on each other, set their items down for purchase. Their clothing was worn, patched and stained, yet comfortable and respectable. His wallet was held together with silver tape, but his money was neatly folded into a shiny gold clip.

The cashier spoke the price of their goods, some $20.87, and the husband slowly placed a $20 bill into the worker's outstretched hand. Here there was a pause as the cashier repeated the total price, followed by a brief moment of confusion as the older man attempted to take it all in. Shakily he unfolded his wallet and tried to count his change.

I felt my eyes well up. Inwardly, I was thinking I'd pay the 87 cents myself before I'd allow them to leave without what they came for. But the gentleman did have the rest of what he owed. Passing another $20 bill across the counter, he received his change and then slowly began putting his money back into the clip. I was content to just stand there and watch.

It didn't matter that it was taking too long or that he could have moved out the way. I didn't care because I was lost in the moment. I remembered my grandfather's face on one visit I made just before he passed, how happy he was to see me. He too had become consumed by age. No longer able to get around like before, we did our best to assist him.

The couple eventually left, she clinging to his arm, and again, I felt the tears come. I am left today with this memory and so many others of my own. There are happy ones and sad ones. I don't know who this couple was, if they have family who care for them or not. I like to think they do. But for me, it is that in this one moment their existence touched mine in the missing I felt for my own.

My grandmother's rose bush

A Life Full of Holes

2011-05-02T18:23:00.005-04:00

My shirts get these little holes in them, always in the same location. For three years now I have searched for the source. Is it the washing machine? My laundry basket? What? The questions remain unanswered, and it frustrates me.

It's amazing how much time I have spent chasing down the cause of these holes. They steal my concentration. When I'm supposed to be doing a dozen different tasks, half of my brain power remains on these spots of empty space.

And they leave me with a quandary. Do I wear the shirts anyway? Should I repair them first or throw the shirts away? If I threw them all away, I think I'd have nothing left to wear. It's that bad. I have repaired some of them, not well, mind you. Afterward, the shirts are left looking like they have a weird fabric flaw, a sort-of lump. I comfort myself, saying no one notices. At least, that is my hope.

How trivial is it that I am consumed by these holes? Around me are tragedies of the greatest magnitudes: a friend's young child had an organ transplant, a relative's husband needs corrective surgery, countless people (unknown to me) have lost their homes to a massive tornado. Yet here I sit, distractedly looking for holes.

Sunday morning following the sermon, my pastor announced to the congregation "a time of worship." Our band began playing beautiful music, the words from the stage floated into the air, and I closed my eyes in gratitude to think of the Father. I love to worship. I live to worship. Yet when my eyes opened just a crack, in amazement I watched people filing out. Before he could even offer the blessing he speaks each Sunday, the greater portion had left, and following the blessing, they went like a flood until only twenty or so were left.

No time for worship?

So many things consume our lives. Like me, searching for holes, all those people had allowed circumstances to become a distraction - time for lunch, pick up the children, mow the yard, take a nap. Trivial items sent them out chasing their holes. When for a few minutes, the Father asked them to stay, to enter into His presence, to sit awhile, to talk with Him.

What all had failed to see was the benefits that come from those precious moments. It's not that my words help God. He doesn't need help. No, my words help me. God is pleased with faith, and time spent in worship reminds me of who He is. It builds my faith.

He is greater. He is higher. He is more than enough. Worship places God onto the throne of my heart and myself in surrender, where I need to be. Him larger. Me smaller. No longer am I out chasing holes. Instead, I dwell with God. I am quiet and can hear His voice. I come away so much stronger than I was when I entered.

I prayed today about those holes. In a moment of forgetfulness, I actually asked God to show me what I was doing to create them. How silly, empty, and vain. I see now it doesn't matter. If ten years from now, my shirts still contain holes, perhaps they serve only to remind me of this lesson.

I think I'll stop writing now and worship. For He is great. He is mighty. He is powerful. He is holy.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

The Top 5 Questions About My Book, "Fearless"

2011-05-01T08:18:00.002-04:00

These are the questions I am most asked about my book, "Fearless."

1. How did you come around to writing a book?

The truth is, I didn't. The chapters of the book were individual blogs written to myself. They are my journal of revelations from God's Word that were on my heart at that time. I found writing them to be both a great way to remember the Lord's instructions to me and an immense form of healing. They were, in a way, my therapy.

The idea to put them into a book came to me after talking to other people with similar problems. I realized I could not be everywhere at once. I hate to see people struggle with something they can be free of, and the truths in the Word of God are, after all, available to anyone who believes. (Jn 1:7)

2. Why are you so open with your testimony?

I don't know exactly. I do remember years ago praying for boldness. The words of Acts 4:29 had spoken to my heart, and for a time, I prayed them earnestly. When I cried out to God for help in 2007, I didn't think of that prayer at all, but the first instruction God gave me was to stop hiding. I spent so much time trying to hide my problem from everyone. For me, being open brought great freedom. At first, I gave no thought to its impact on others. It was only later as so many people came to me with their brother or sister or friend who was in my shoes that I saw the need.

3. What one thing have you learned the most?

That not every step towards healing is easy. Renewing your mind to think differently is HARD. Doing those things I am afraid of doing is HARD. I remember one time telling my husband, "I either have to give up or get out of this house because sitting here is killing me." And it was. The indecision of fear was making me ill. To get over it, I knew I had to either stay home or get in the car. It was not an easy decision, but a necessary one. I always remember, when I am at that point, that giving in doesn't solve anything. Unless I am willing to step forward in the heat of the HARD moment, I will not remain free.

4. What has surprised you the most now that the book is in print?

I am constantly surprised. I was surprised when someone first wanted my autograph. That still seems a bit strange to me. This book is my failure and God's success. God really should sign it, if that were possible.

Also, I was not fully prepared for "the weight of the book." I failed to look at it from other peoples' perspectives. To me it was less a manual and more my personal thoughts. Suddenly, people were coming to me for advice. On the days when I am weakest, I ask myself how I could help anyone. Yet the truth is, it is not my words that are doing anything, it is God's Word. I am only the vessel He has chosen; my job is to be obedient. His Words are life and healing to the mind and flesh. (Pr 4:22)

5. What is most important to you about this book?

The testimonies I hear are so marvelous and I am grateful for every kind word. My heart for the book was not to sell millions of copies; I wanted it to be in the hands of those who needed it. Each time I hear someone tell me they passed their copy along to a friend, it makes me exceedingly happy. That was my desire. Panic attacks are such a silent, hidden problem, which no one talks about. It takes friends and family, church people and neighbors, stepping into the lives of those they know and offering prayer and support to facilitate healing. I would not be here if not for the efforts of those who love me.

To pick up a copy of the book, you can order through Amazon, or from Becky Combee Ministries, Inc.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

A View of the Pond

2011-04-28T13:37:00.003-04:00

"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence." - Ansel Adams

This is one of those days for me. Unable to focus on any one task, I sit and soak up the images of my life.

Water Lilies

Leopard Frog

Female Bullfrog

Male Blue Dasher Dragonfly

Damselflies

Enjoy this video view of our pond!

To Gain Christ

2011-04-22T15:06:00.004-04:00

After last week's blog, I find myself still stuck meditating on the apostle Paul's words in Philippians three. I heard a song this morning ("Lead Me To The Cross" by Seventh Day Slumber) that stirred it up in me again. One line in the song goes, "And everything I once held dear, I count it all as loss." This thought comes directly from Philippians 3:7-8.

But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. 8 Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ. (NKJV)

I think I know exactly how Paul felt when he uttered this thought. Nothing else in my life is worth the cost of the presence of God. I desire to "gain Christ" above everything. I like the words of an online commentary regarding verse seven.

“I now regard them all as so much loss. They were really a disadvantage - a hindrance - an injury. I look upon them, not as gain or an advantage, but as an obstacle to my salvation.” (Albert Barne's Notes on the Bible, e-sword.net)

This brings me to ask, What in your life is an obstacle to your salvation? Is it a particular person or group of people? Is it a hobby? What do you allow into your heart that hinders your knowledge of Christ?

Before fear entered my life, I had so many things between me and God. Looked upon separately, none of them were that harmful. Yet somehow taken together, each one chipped away at my commitment to God. "I would rather read a good novel than spend time in my Bible. I must watch certain television programs or my day is incomplete. If I drive in my car, the music has to be playing."

Now, I don't believe God is against fiction stories or television shows or even music. As Christians, we must always guard against what we hear, and there are still forms of acceptable entertainment. But for me, these things were hindrances to my spiritual growth. The problem was, I just couldn't see it.

I tell people all the time that my experience changed me forever. I am not the same person I once was. Yet the greatest change in me came without any effort on my part. My desire for all these other things just left, at once in an instant. Another commentary likened this to someone freed from drinking. It said, "So it is observed of a drunken man, when he comes to himself; and it is told him what he did when in liquor, he grieves at it...i.e. can take no pleasure in a reflection on it." (John Gill's Exposition of the Entire Bible, e-sword.net)

I no longer take pleasure in any of those old things. I count them all as loss because I will have no obstacles between myself and Christ, myself and His anointing, myself and His presence.

I always stress to those who are where I was that in order to be well again, you have to treat yourself like who you are in the position that you are in. A person with a physical illness cannot do certain things, their sickness has given them temporary limitations. Well, in this same manner, until I was whole again, I had to work daily to strengthen my spirit man and go minute-by-minute at renewing my mind. I soaked myself in God's presence and drank of His Word, for these were my medicines.

What I didn't count on was that somehow in the process, I lost the desire for all those other things. Oh, as I became stronger, I felt it was okay again to read a little or watch some television, but the truth is my desires changed. What matters to me now is salvation, mine and yours. I'd much rather pray. I'd much rather worship. I'd much rather gain Christ.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Consider It Done

2011-04-16T13:36:00.005-04:00

For we are the circumcision, who give worship to God and have glory in Jesus Christ, and have no faith in the flesh (Php 3:3 BBE).

God's salvation is a complete work. It is more than spending eternity with Christ, but includes everything we need to live life to its fullest, its most abundant, and its most enjoyable TODAY and NOW. It provides peace, safety, prosperity, and healing in all its forms - mental, emotional, and physical. God has left nothing out.

I believe these words with every fiber of my being. I have lived them, and they cannot be taken away from me. Well, the other day, during my daily Bible reading, I came across verses 19-20 in Romans 4. Speaking of Abraham, it reads:

And being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead, when he was about an hundred years old, neither yet the deadness of Sara's womb: He staggered not at the promise of God through unbelief; but was strong in faith, giving glory to God; (Rom 4:19-20)

When I came to the words, "he considered not," I stopped short. Back in December of last year, I made a New Year's resolution and posted it here on my blog. I have made no secret of my desire for complete healing in my mind and body from the damages of fear, and THIS YEAR I determined to reach my goal. I will have it because God has promised it to me. Yet as I have walked my life out day-by-day, there are times when the reaching out is harder than others. Earnestly, I have sought the Lord's guidance on turning my thoughts further toward where they need to be to walk in faith. And this thought brings me back to Abraham.

Consider Not! Consider Him!

What does it say in Philippians 3:3? I love the BBE version of this chapter, especially. Paul here is speaking to the church and he tells them that of all the people who could trust in their flesh, he should be the greatest. He has more reason to trust in his own righteousness more than any other.

I think the idea of our "own righteousness" sometimes trips us up. But our righteousness is self-confidence. The King James Version states this verse, "Have no confidence in the flesh." This instruction is for every area of our lives. We have self-confidence anytime our idea outweighs God's. It is all those times you knew you should do a certain thing, act a particular way, or follow through with something He has spoken to your heart, yet you didn't do it. Instead, you argued. "But God...what if..."

That's just it though! There is no "what if" with God! I once heard a preacher say never to make "plan B" and this thought has always stuck with me. Anytime we prepare plan B, we release part of our trust in God and place it instead in ourself. It is like saying, "God might fail, so just in case, I will..." But, no, it doesn't work that way.

Abraham "considered not" his body. He knew how old he was. He knew it was impossible in the flesh. He knew how old Sara was. He didn't look at those things because he knew the promise of God and believed in God's faithfulness to perform it. Hebrews 3:1 tells us to, "Consider the Apostle and High Priest of our profession, Christ Jesus." The word "consider" here (and in Romans 4) specifically means "to fix one's eyes and mind upon." (Thayer's Greek Definitions) So instead of fixing our thoughts on ourselves, instead of considering what we can do, we must instead fix them on Christ and who He is.

I like the words of a commentary, speaking of Romans 4:19-20.

“The nature and power of Abraham's faith are shown. He believed God's testimony, and looked for the performance of his promise, firmly hoping when the case seemed hopeless. It is weakness of faith, that makes a man lie poring on the difficulties in the way of a promise. Abraham took it not for a point that would admit of argument or debate. Unbelief is at the bottom of all our staggerings at God's promises. The strength of faith appeared in its victory over fears. God honours faith; and great faith honours God.” (MHCC, e-sword.net)

I love the phrase, "no argument or debate." In other words, Abraham didn't make plan B. Another commentary says, "He did not regard the fact that his body was now dead, as any obstacle to the fulfillment of the promise." (Barne's, e-sword.net) Abraham did not let his body become an obstacle to the fulfillment of God's promise in his life.

In my own life, I have let my physical weakness become that obstacle. There have been so many times when my confidence was in my flesh.

"If I can just get in the car, I'll be okay."
"If I can just get there, this will pass."
"If I pray for an hour first, then I..."

I mean well each time, yet my true confidence was in myself, not in God. And I realize this every time I fail - "Why couldn't I do that this time?" The truth is, sometimes trusting is hard. I have discovered the acting out of the Scripture's instructions is often hard. They are easily preached and easily heard, but difficult to DO, mostly because we trust in ourselves to do them. How much easier they become when we can "let go and let God!"

The final truth of it all is found in the last two verses of Philippians 3, and these are the Scriptures on where I stand and rejoice. (Rm 5:2)

For our country is in heaven; from where the Saviour for whom we are waiting will come, even the Lord Jesus Christ: By whom this poor body of ours will be changed into the image of the body of his glory, in the measure of the working by which he is able to put all things under himself. (Php 3:20-21 BBE)

It WILL BE changed! It will be changed TODAY and NOW! If I will just consider it done...

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

White Chocolate Lime Cupcakes

2011-04-10T07:56:00.002-04:00

I found this recipe on the internet and adapted it to my own cooking, so I can only take partial credit. But then again, what cook entirely creates a recipe from scratch unless he or she is on one of those cooking programs.

Now, first a few notes on my attempt at making these. The original recipe called for key limes, but as they are tremendously expensive, I used regular limes. I did actually grate the lime rind fresh (no bottled, dried zest), and I squeezed the juice of 1 lime into the recipe. I entirely forgot to add the chips and ended up dropping them onto the top of the cupcakes in the pan. However, I would mix them in next time. Also, I used real, actual butter. I am kind of against margarine. The thought of it sitting on the counter and not melting makes me not want to put it into my body.

1 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 tablespoons butter, softened
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 1/2 teaspoons grated lime zest
1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
2/3 cup buttermilk
1 cup white chocolate chips

Preheat oven to 350F. Line standard-sized muffin cups with foil liners. (The original recipe called for foil liners, but I use the foil liners anyhow because the cupcakes turn out better than the paper ones.)

Blend the flour, baking powder, and salt together in a small bowl. Set aside. In a large bowl, cream sugar and butter. Add eggs, lime zest, and lime juice. Alternate adding flour mixture and butter mixture in 1/3rds. Fold in chips. (As a final side note, the 1 cup measure of chips seems a lot to me. I'd probably half it for a firmer cupcake.)

Bake 18-20 minutes. Makes 12 cupcakes.

After they had entirely cooled, I iced these with pre-mixed cream cheese icing. I used a decorator bag, then put more chips on the top and some fresh lime zest.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Sunrises and Flowers

2011-04-09T20:50:00.002-04:00

I thought tonight I'd post a few recent photographs.

After I woke up the other morning, I saw the most marvelous sunrise. I love early mornings when the fog silently creeps across the lawn. The world remains quiet but for a few birds singing - it's the BEST time of day to me.

The following day the sun returned again as glorious as the day before. How wonderful to stand and admire it again!

God has blessed me so very much to live where I can see each new day dawn in such splendor.

Our hummingbird has returned (male ruby throat hummingbird) and the first gladiolus is blossoming in the garden. I tie these two thoughts together because one evening he was feeding from the center of the flowers. He buzzes by, sips, and is gone. So fast!

Wild orchids are flowering in the lawn again this year. There aren't as many this spring, yet they are still so very delicate and beautiful.

A few days ago, I captured this shot of a female damselfly, species as yet unidentified, hovering over our garden pond. It's rather unusual that she let me get so close for the photo.

For my final thought, I post this video of a white ibis flock that walked across our lawn. I made the video for a photographer friend in Arizona who doesn't see these birds very often. They are so common here that they are frequently overlooked.

White Ibis Flock Video

Yet Another Blog About Trust

2011-04-01T07:50:00.003-04:00

For I am not ashamed of the Gospel (good news) of Christ, for it is God's power working unto salvation [for deliverance from eternal death] to everyone who believes with a personal trust and a confident surrender and firm reliance (Rm 1:16 AMP).

I tell people all the time that the words I write are usually written as much to myself as they are for the benefit of others. They are my personal meditations of what the Lord is dealing with me about. Well, it seems the subject of "trust" has already come up three times, and this tells me I have really had to work on it.

Trust In The Lord (August 19, 2009)
Trust (November 21, 2010)
Life A Life of Surrender (December 15, 2010)

Now, I took the time, before writing today, to read each of these and can truthfully say I do not regret or take back one word. In fact, instead I find my memory refreshed. (This is the benefit of writing things down.) Their simple truths flow along with the ultimate purpose of this particular blog.

Trust is relationship.

The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower. (Ps 18:2)

In order to develop trust, there must first be a relationship. You cannot trust without knowing in whom you are trusting. They must have a willingness to work on my behalf. I cannot place my trust if there is no "want to" help me.

Trust is submission.

Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you (Jam 3:7).

More specifically, trust is submission to the power and authority of another. I trust someone when I know they have something I do not. They might have more time, more strength, or more wisdom than I. But ultimately, they are capable of doing what I cannot, so I submit, or yield, to that.

Trust is sacrifice.

So then, any of you who does not forsake (renounce, surrender claim to, give up, say good-bye to) all that he has cannot be My disciple (Lk 14:33 AMP).

True trust requires complete surrender and great sacrifice. No longer will I do things my way (Remember, I am trusting in another because I am not capable of handling the situation.). I sacrifice my methods, allowing another to choose and perform the task. This step is perhaps the hardest of all, but it leads me to my final point.

Trust is rest.

Trust in the LORD...Delight thyself also in the LORD...Commit thy way unto the LORD...Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently for him (Ps 37:3,4,5,7).

When I am trusting, I have no fear about the final outcome. Instead, I rest, knowing that the one I trust in will do what's best for me. I submit myself to them fully and sacrifice my own desires for theirs.

Photo by my husband

In order to talk about trust, we have to talk about anti-trust or "self" control. For this, I'd like to offer a visual analogy. Complete trust, like the leaf above, is being in a state of total suspension. It is being, in fact, out of control. All the "self" control I have is gone. Instead, things are in God's control. I no longer lean on my own knowledge, my ability to organize, or my mental capacity, and here's what grabs me the most about trust, because I realize I am unable!

Continually, we try to do what we know we cannot. We expect ourselves to find a way to fix things that are very plainly out of our control. I think of my physical healing here. There are things I am believing God to "fix" in my body. I have SAID my faith is in God, yet when the stress of my inability comes up and my body is failing again, I still mentally try to correct the situation and I become afraid. "What if I can't..." The truth is I can't, and there lies the trust issue.

In the area of physical healing, I have to trust God completely. I must know He is willing. I know it because He and I have a relationship. He is my heavenly Father; we spend time together. I daily feel His presence in my life; I hear His heartbeat, we are that close. There isn't any doubt in my heart He loves me and desires for me to be strong. I then submit to His power and authority. He has everything I need. When I feel I cannot walk out of my house, He takes my hand and walks with me. When my mind is troubled, His anointing brings peace. I rely on His omnipotence, knowing He will AND He can.

As a result, I offer the sacrifice of praise. (Heb 13:15) It's a sacrifice, because I relinquish my control. I let go of my ideas and plans in favor of His. It's also a sacrifice because sometimes I don't want to do it. Some days it seems hard for me to leave home; my physical body and my mind want to collapse and give up. But instead, I obey His voice and with praise in my lips, believe in His promise to get me there and bring me home.

True trust is absent of fear. As long as I entertain fear, some part of me remains in control. Yet if I know God does not need my help, I can then rest in Him. Instead of terror and panic, He is all I need to remain suspended. What freedom this brings! Like a child placing his reliance in a parent or grandparent to supply for him, to carry him the places he needs to go, and to keep him safe, I don't have to worry any longer for my trust is in God.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

My Vacation Videos 2010

2011-04-01T07:17:00.003-04:00

I had enough time yesterday, so I reorganized my vacation videos from our trip to the Appalachian and Great Smoky Mountains in November of 2010. There are three of them, and I thought you'd like to take a look. They are presented in the order of events for the trip.

Our Georgia Vacation, Part 1

Our Georgia Vacation, Part 2

Amicalola Falls

Creative Challenge Win at Webshots

2011-03-29T08:06:00.004-04:00

Ok, so not exactly a WIN, but I placed 9th in the "Enchanted Forest" contest. No prizes. I mainly enter to encourage net traffic. You know, the fun of self-promotion.

This particular photograph was taken at the Circle B Reserve, Lakeland, Florida, about 5 years ago with my previous camera, a Fuji 4900.

To visit the winner's list

On Book Writing and Speech-Making

2011-03-26T16:36:00.003-04:00

I had to speak at a ladies meeting today, to give my testimony. I'll admit I am still processing the experience. Frankly, I am not sure what to do with it in my life's timeline.

But I do know it stresses to me why I like writing. Writing is my therapy. It gives me time to think about my words, to filter my thoughts and pack them neatly into slots. Speech-making is different. Once spoken, words are just out there and you can't take them back or reformulate them.

I have publicly given my testimony three times now and each time has been different from the last. This time, I really can't tell you what I said. How to explain that...I was told I did great. But truthfully, at the end I felt as blank as a piece of paper. It was like I woke up from a dream. Oh, over the last months I had prepared a whole string of thoughts. I had preached myself silly trying to fit what I wanted to say into 15 minutes of time. Yet I knew inside that when I got up there, I'd be myself, it'd all go to the wind, and I'd remember none of it.

Perhaps if I could have written it all down instead...

That's, after all, what I did with my book. I am so proud of the accomplishment of having a published book. However, when the first person asked me to sign it, and then another and another, I was totally unprepared. I couldn't figure out why that mattered.

I told my husband the other day that it was the story of my failure and God's success. In the scheme of things, I am such a small, ordinary, insignificant person. Why has God chosen to use ME in the first place? I cannot tell you how many times I have asked myself that question.

In late 2010, and when I asked the Lord what I should call the book, He said, "Fearless." That title puzzled me.

"Fearless? But, God," I argued, "I'm not fearless!"

"Fearless," He said, "is not being without fear. It's not letting fear control you."

Ah, and this I understand. Today as I stood up there, I had captured that. No matter how hard the struggle to rid myself permanently of the affects of fear in my life, no matter how long it takes, I will not make decisions based on fear. If that is what fearless means, then I am it.

So...I signed a few books today, still puzzling over why that matters. (I don't mind signing them and my notes to people are always sincere. I don't know how else to be, actually.) But my story is God's story. Every word I write and those I speak are His words. They are what He would say. I am just the vessel.

I don't know yet why He has chosen me. Maybe He just wanted one person willing to stand up and say, "Enough! You don't have to be afraid." I must be obedient, this I do know.

God is so good, friends, all the time.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

First Butterfly Photo of the Season

2011-03-24T14:03:00.002-04:00

Though I have seen several butterflies already this spring, this is the first one to cooperate for a photograph. The flowers are blanket flowers growing in my flower beds. They were also popular with several species of bees.

Painted Lady

Extreme Close-Up

Bees

And what is this event without a video to go along with it? I enjoy making videos and am finally getting the "hang" of using my DSLR to make them. Background music by Kevin McLeod.

Painted Lady and Bees

Completely unrelated to the butterfly incident, I have to share a couple additional photographs and videos. This first one is my dog, Ginger, basking in the sunshine. Notice the nose twitching! She is forever scenting the air.

Ginger in the Sunshine

Our first Eastern Bluebird nest finally has babies in it! They make quite a racket when dad shows up with food. Look closely at this image and you can see the chick sticking his head out!

Lastly, this male cardinal visited the other evening to singing his song.

Cardinal Singing

My Book Available for Kindle!

2011-03-22T20:54:00.003-04:00

My book, Fearless, is now available for direct download via Whispernet at Amazon! Check it out!

Fearless ebook

The Power of Unforgiveness

2011-03-13T19:06:00.003-04:00

You'd think, reading that title, that I had made a mistake. Didn't I mean, "The Power of Forgiveness"? Well, I could have titled it that way, except I wanted to make a point. However, first let's read from Matthew 9.

And he entered into a ship, and passed over, and came into his own city. (2) And, behold, they brought to him a man sick of the palsy, lying on a bed: and Jesus seeing their faith said unto the sick of the palsy; Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee. (3) And, behold, certain of the scribes said within themselves, This man blasphemeth. (4) And Jesus knowing their thoughts said, Wherefore think ye evil in your hearts? (5) For whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Arise, and walk? (6) But that ye may know that the Son of man hath power on earth to forgive sins, (then saith he to the sick of the palsy,) Arise, take up thy bed, and go unto thine house. (7) And he arose, and departed to his house.

I confess I never understood Jesus' words in this story. Literally speaking, yes, it is not any easier to say one phrase over the other, but in my heart, I knew there was more to it than just that. Then the other day, I heard a well-known preacher make a statement about this passage that finally turned the light on in my own heart. (I love it when that happens!)

But first let me state, forgiveness is vital to answered prayer. We read this in Mark 11:26, "And when ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have ought against any: that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses."

It is found again in Matthew 5:23-24,"Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift." In both verses, we plainly see that before we can begin to request anything from God, we must forgive.

We find this again in James 5:15.

And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up; and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him. (James 5:15)

Here again, like Matthew 9, listed with the prayer of faith and healing is forgiveness of sins. The question now is why? Why did it matter if Jesus said, "Rise and walk," or "Your sins are forgiven?" Why does unforgiveness hinder answered prayer?

Here is where the revelation came for me. IT HINDERS ANSWERED PRAYER, IT PREVENTS HEALING, BECAUSE IT IS THE SAME POWER THAT DOES BOTH!!

Think of it this way, if you have an electrical outlet mounted in a wall, but never hook it to any electrical wires, then you can plug in any appliance you wish - a toaster, a can opener, a space heater - and none of them will work because that outlet is not attached to any power. You can beat and pound on them until your hand hurts, but they still will not work. There is no power.

This is the effect of unforgiveness on our prayers. Forgiveness operates from the same supernatural power as healing or prosperity. The power that heals is the power that saves, the power that prospers, and the power that forgives. When we allow unforgiveness to remain in our heart, we cut off the power supply. We become just like that outlet, suddenly nothing we try works. We pray and pray and pray, but it's not that God doesn't hear us, instead we have unplugged ourselves.

This is why we are warned again and again in the New Testament against strife. (1 Cor 3:3;2 Cor 12:20;Php 2:3;Jas 3:13;Jas 3:16) To walk in the fullness of God's promises for us, we must lead our lives in peace and forgiveness. In fact, Hebrews 12:14-15 tells us to "look diligently" for peace, and 1 Peter 3:11 says to seek and pursue peace. Peace and forgiveness plug ourselves into God's great power and give Him the ability to move in our lives. Suddenly, everything works and our prayers are answered.

So ask yourself now in Jesus' words, "Whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Arise, and walk?" Hallelujah! Both make complete sense to me!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Steve's Digicams Article - The Amazing World of Insect Photography

2011-03-10T20:29:00.002-05:00

My March 2011 Steve's Digicams article is now online. This article is dedicated to a man who gave me my start in Macro Photography, and fostered my love for photographing Insects - Mike Ash. I encourage you to give it a read.

The Amazing World of Insect Photography

My Book Now Available on Amazon!

2011-03-08T18:57:00.003-05:00

My book, Fearless, my testimony of how God freed me from fear, is now available on Amazon. It is also available through Becky Combee Ministries, Inc. in ebook format (epub or mobi - Kindle). Cost is $12.

Amazon

Becky Combee Ministries, Inc.

If you have any questions, drop me a note!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Circle B Reserve, Lakeland, Florida

2011-03-06T08:33:00.003-05:00

My husband and I took a walk in this local Reserve yesterday (3/5/2011) and saw more wildlife than I have seen in years. It was an important moment in my healing because it is a location I have avoided visiting for 4 years.

I have been meditating a lot lately on the Word of God about enjoying life. My goal has always been to be able to plan to go places, look forward to going, and enjoy myself while I am there. Unless you have suffered under the weight of fear as I have, you would not understand how difficult that really is. God has given me a Scripture to stand on. The words of 1 Timothy 6:17 speak to my heart where it says God has given us "richly all things to enjoy."

Here are some of what we enjoyed yesterday. The video was taken on the marsh-side of the walk. The noise you hear are, for the most part, Black-bellied Whistling Ducks. There were hundreds of them flying back and forth. However, if you looked closely you would see an innumerable species of other water birds. We even saw a Roseate Spoonbill.

Ducks at the Circle B Reserve

My husband actually took this photograph; this family of pigs was on his side of the car.

Male Anhinga

Blue Flag Iris

We probably saw all-together over 40 alligators of all sizes. We even saw two tiny babies, no more than one foot long. This one was perched on a log with several of his turtle friends.

Here's another one.

This is a bird I was excited to see as it was my first in the wild.

Bittern

Lastly, here are some of the birds at the marsh.

Snowy Egret and Pied-Billed Grebes

Black-bellied Whistling Ducks

Blue-winged Teal, male and female

I have many more photographs, including several landscapes of the Reserve. If you'd like to view the entire collection of photographs, you can do so here (pages 3-6).

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

Video: Mona Lisa Smile

2011-03-06T08:30:00.001-05:00

This is an old song by Shelia Walsh from the 1980s. It came across my headphones the other day and I was so captured by it that I created this short video. Hope you enjoy it!

Mona Lisa Smile

Who do you want God to be?

2011-03-04T13:00:00.003-05:00

Jesus heard that they had cast him out; and when he had found him, he said unto him, Dost thou believe on the Son of God? (36) He answered and said, Who is he, Lord, that I might believe on him? (Jn 9:35-36)

John 9 finds Jesus in the midst of a debate over the healing of a blind man. It wasn't enough that the blind man received his sight; the religious leaders had to argue over whose fault it was that the man was born blind to start with. First, they accosted the man's parents, who immediately said to ask their son. The son's reply was simple. He said, "One thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see." (v25)

You'd think that would be enough, but they pressed the man further, "Who did this and how did he do it?" (v26)

Again, the blind man responds. "I have told you already, and ye did not hear: wherefore would ye hear it again? will ye also be his disciples?" (v27)

In other words, "You didn't hear me the first time! Why must I repeat it?" At this point, the leaders begin to say all types of bad things about him.

At that moment, the light of revelation comes into the blind man's heart. I can see it. I have been there. That moment when suddenly you KNOW the truth.

The man answered and said unto them, Why herein is a marvellous thing, that ye know not from whence he is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes. (31) Now we know that God heareth not sinners: but if any man be a worshipper of God, and doeth his will, him he heareth. (32) Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind. (33) If this man were not of God, he could do nothing. (Jn 9:30-33)

This brings us to the only response Jesus makes on the entire debate. The religious leaders cast the man out in continued disbelief, and Jesus steps in to talk directly to the blind man.

"Do you believe in the Son of God?" He asks.
"Who is he?" the man replies.
"I am he." Jesus states.
"I believe!" (v35-38)

Just the other day, when I was doing my daily meditation, I heard a question rise up from within my heart. It is similar to the one Jesus phrased to Peter in Mark 8:29, "Whom say ye that I am?"

My heart spoke, "WHO do you want God to be?"

It's such a simple question, yet the answer is profound. Man, in his own mind, continually acts just like those Pharisees. Even with such a great proof before us, we refuse to believe. The blind man knew God had to be behind his healing, yet the leaders of the church made fun of him. They took a moment of God's mercy and compassion and tossed it aside under their own misunderstandings. To them, none of it made any sense.

I have long said that people do not like to be wrong. I see it over and over again - men defending themselves despite their errors. "It's not mine. I didn't do it," when God just wants us to admit our sin and move on into the blessings He has prepared for us. Didn't He speak these words through the prophet Isaiah long ago?

Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool. If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of the land. (Isa 1:18-19)

Willing and obedient! The question asks again, "Who do YOU want God to be?"

The blind man wanted a God who would heal him. The woman who anointed Jesus feet wanted forgiveness. (Lk 7:38) Who is God to you? Who do you believe in?

I believe the most vital wisdom we must all obtain is who God is. We must know Him, know His power. (Php 3:10) Our faith rests in the knowledge of all the things God is. He is love. (1Jn 4:8,16) He is faithful. (Deut 7:9) He is forgiveness. (Dan 7:9;Lk 5:21) He is mercy and compassion. (Deut. 4:31;Neh 9:31) Why, like those Pharisees, cast this knowledge aside?

"God won't help me."
"God doesn't heal today."
"God can't possibly forgive HER!"

Who God is, He is to you, to me, to the world. He hasn't changed. He won't change. He is eternal. He is forever. (Mal 3:6;Deut 33:7)

Who DO you want God to be? My God is powerful. He is mighty, and full of deliverance. (Ps 29:4;Neh 9:32;Ps 50:1) My God is great; He is wise. (Ps 77:13;Ps 95:3;Job 36:5;Ro 11:33) Whatever I need, He is there to provide it. (Mt 6:8-9)

That's who God is! And I believe it!

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

My book now available in ebook format!

2011-02-28T14:22:00.003-05:00

My book, Fearless, is now available in ebook format! Visit the link below for ordering information. Paperback copy coming soon!

$12.00
Fearless

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.

What would Jesus do?

2011-02-26T12:00:00.005-05:00

Jesus is, to put it simply, our role model. Looking at His life we see things He did that we must emulate. There are many, each worth discussion, but here are four I believe are key.

He loved God. He hated sin.

And the Jews' passover was at hand, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem. (14) And found in the temple those that sold oxen and sheep and doves, and the changers of money sitting: (15) And when he had made a scourge of small cords, he drove them all out of the temple, and the sheep, and the oxen; and poured out the changers' money, and overthrew the tables; (16) And said unto them that sold doves, Take these things hence; make not my Father's house an house of merchandise. (17) And his disciples remembered that it was written, The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up. (Jn 2:13-17)

Both Joshua 1:8 and Psalm 1:2 tell us to meditate on God's Word "day and night." David in Psalm 63:6 states, "When I remember thee upon my bed, and meditate on thee in the night watches." Something we meditate on becomes our primary focus. We think about it all the time.

Athletes will so absorb themselves in their sport that it becomes all they do to the exclusion of everything else. They adjust what they eat to better their performance. They adjust their schedule to allow more time to exercise and practice their craft. In this same way, God's Word needs to get all our attention. We measure everything we think, speak, or do by what is contained in it.

When Jesus entered the temple, he had just left the marriage feast at Cana. God's power flowing through Him turned the water into wine. It's no wonder then, with the memory of that still in His thinking, that He was so angry when He entered the temple and found the money changers there. His zeal, His ardor or fervency, for God and against sin, consumed Him. He would not compromise His faith for the sin of the present day.

We too must refuse compromise. As your mother used to say, "If they asked you to jump off a cliff, would you do it?" Sin is sin, folks, no matter how popular that sin as become. Jesus loved God, but He hated sin. Therefore, so do I! I would do what Jesus did.

He guarded His words.

For even hereunto were ye called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps: (22) Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: (23) Who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, he threatened not; but committed himself to him that judgeth righteously. (1Pe 2:21-23)

Jesus knew when to speak and when not to speak. He understood the power of His words to affect His life and the lives of those around Him. When the devil tempted Him in the wilderness, Jesus spoke only the Word of God. (Mt 4:1-10) When He stood before Pilate, we are told He gave no answer, no defense. (Mt 27:14)

Looking at these incidents separately, we see several important things. First, the temptation of the devil was a mental struggle. The Bible in Hebrews 4:15 states that Jesus "was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." In short, He's been there. He knows how we feel. How many times have we struggled with the thoughts that come into our head? And what is our greatest defense against them? It is the same defense as Jesus gave at that moment. He said, "It is written." Ephesians 6 tells us to take up God's armor, which armor includes the Word of God as the sword of our offense. (v11,17) The Word of God spoken in our mouths combats the lies the devil places into our thoughts. Jesus didn't discuss His options with the devil. He didn't repeat what the devil had said. He didn't write it down. He didn't murmur or complain about it. Instead, He spoke the Word and the devil left!

On the other hand, as Jesus stood before Pilate being accused falsely, He said nothing at all. (Mt 27:12) I used to think this was strictly to fulfill what He knew was the plan of God for His life. Yet I believe now there was a deeper purpose. Jesus refused to allow His words to be the condemnation of any man. Against even those who were there to falsely accuse Him, He wouldn't offer defense. If you think about that, how could He? How could the Lamb of God, come to die for all of man's sin, stand there and argue, "What he just said about me is a lie!" In the face of extreme adversity and the sting of man's tongues, Jesus shut up.

There is a lesson to be learned in these. There are times when we must speak God's Word to combat the devil and other times when we must hush to avoid bringing shame on people. This is what Jesus did. This is what we must also do.

He forgave.

Then said Jesus, Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. And they parted his raiment, and cast lots. (Lk 23:34)

We look to Jesus as our example of greatest forgiveness, yet oftentimes we don't do what is required to forgive. Thinking back again to the story of Pilate. When Jesus didn't answer to accuse the false speakers, He also refused to walk in unforgiveness. This is evidenced by His words in Luke 23:34 where He forgave everyone. Hebrews 12:4 states, "Ye have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin." This is the sobering truth. We haven't. Nothing we come up against will ever compare with the struggle of Christ on that day. Therefore, we should walk as He did, in forgiveness.

I heard a preacher say in speaking about the story of man with the palsy that when Jesus said, "Whether is easier, to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; or to say, Rise up and walk?" He was describing the SAME POWER available to do both. I admit I never understood Jesus' statement. But I see it now! The same power that forgives, heals. We cannot cut short one without it affecting the other. This is what Jesus did. He forgave, looking for His own eternal redemption and the "joy set before Him." (Heb 12:2)

We must also forgive, and we forgive as much through our speech as our actions. To move forward in our lives, we stop looking back at what was or might have been. This is true forgiveness. (Heb 11:15)

He gave.

And Jesus went about all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing all manner of sickness and all manner of disease among the people. (Mt 4:23)

In Jesus' life we see physical healing, mental healing, and the provision of money. He healed the blind, strengthed withered limbs, and restored men who were consumed with leprosy. However, he also delivered people not in their right mind. He brought them to a place of sanity and peace. (Mk 5:15;Lk 8:35) There are so many stories like this in the Bible.

Yet Jesus' giving wasn't limited to physical healings. He also gave prosperity. He turned the water into wine. (Jn 2:7) He multiplied the loaves and the fishes, not once but twice. (Mt 14:17;Mark 6:38) He caused Peter to catch his greatest boat-load of fish ever. (Lk 5:4)

But here is the fantastic truth! Jesus said we would do "greater works" than these! That's "GREATER!" (Jn 14:12) When we see a need, like Jesus, we do what we must to fill it. This could be prayer; it could be the laying on of hands; or it could be a financial gift. Whatever the need, we use our faith to help others to the same extent we use it to help ourselves, and this pleases God. (Heb 11:6)

What would Jesus do? Like Him we hear, believe, and obey God's Word. We love God, but hat sin. We use our words as healing and forgiveness. We strive to help others. And in the process, we come out clean vessels fitted for the Master's use. That's what Jesus did, so that's what we must do.

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Suzanne
Suzanne Williams Photography
Florida, USA

Suzanne Williams is a native Floridian, wife, and mother, with a penchant for spelling anything, who happens to love photography.