Merry Christmas and welcome to Day 3 of Stories by Firefly's 12 Days of Christmas party! Today I am sharing Part two of my Revolutionary War Christmas Story, Expected End! If you haven't read part 1 (link coming soon!) please go do that first!

The wind howled through the cracks in the structure, whipping against James in stinging lashes. He grimaced and tried again to shield himself from the elements. From head to toe, his body ached and nothing he could do relieved the pain. In fact, the slightest move made it worse.

Something icy ran down his cheek. He shook his head fiercely. He was too old for that; he would not cry. Sixteen was far too old for childish pity parties, surely! After all, it was his own fault that had him in this situation. If only he hadn’t been seen; if only he’d been able to run faster; if only he hadn’t come out until he had full recovered from illness! Why had he been so persistent in going? Why?!

Try as he might, he couldn’t hold back the salty tears coursing down his face. His side and leg pained him greatly and blood continued to seep through his clothes and pool on the snow beneath him. He shuddered at the mental picture his thoughts presented to him. All that blood… He felt as though a hot knife had been thrust into his side and that the perpetrator was twisting in back and forth. He sniffed, trying to pull himself together. He had to think of something other than his pain and numbness in his hands and feet.

Unbidden, he thought of his mother back home. She would miss him if something happened to him. And something certainly would happen. If he somehow survived the night, he would be tried for a spy, and even if he wasn’t convicted, he would be shut up in the hold of some ship to await his death. He was condemned to die.

James bit down on the gag, a groan escaping him more so at the thought of his mother than from the pain racking his weakening frame. Another tear wormed its way down his face. She was a pretty lady, slender and short with brown curls and sparkling green eyes. James looked nothing like her, except for his slender build, which had been a curse to him his entire life. He was sandy haired and brown eyed, with a sharp nose and firm set chin that made him look defiant. Her nose was small and button-like and her chin was soft and gently. She was everything soft and pretty… and he was everything clumsy and plain.

His thoughts wondered to his father. Mr. Tanner had died before James was born. A carriage accident, he’d been told. Mrs. Tanner had been in the accident too and James had been born later that night. People said he wouldn’t make it; he was so small. But God had spared him for some reason and Mrs. Tanner said he was her little miracle. James was named for his father, James Hamilton Tanner the Second. “Sounds like an educated gentleman… a Free, educated gentleman. And that is what you shall be one day Jamie,” his mother had told him more than a dozen times growing up. “A free man!”

Mother again…and death too! Two things he didn’t want to think about. News of her only son’s capture and death would crush her. He could see her now, sitting in front of the fireplace, a few cedar chips thrown in for scent the way she liked it. Her itchy, but warm, gray shawl would be draped about her shoulders and her old, worn Bible would be in her lap. Her hands would cover her face, weeping and mourning his youth. Mourning the daughter-in-law she would never get to have, and the grandchildren; the son she loved who would never return home, never be free. Her tears wouldn’t be of self-pity… but anguish of heart and love for her baby boy and the future he would never live.

She had often shared her dreams for his future with him. She wanted him to go to a university one day, when they had saved enough. He was a bright boy, she had always said. He could be anything once they were shed of English rule. Then, he would marry, and they would both come and live with her so she could help with their brood of little ones. He would be successful in whatever he chose to do because he was smart and kind and smart and kind people are always successful.

So much for that, he thought. Mother, I’ve let you down.

He would never see her again. Never embrace her again… never hear her voice again, on this earth at least. It was more than he could bear. The tears came afresh, nearly strangling him. He tried to force them away, but he might as well have tried to free himself from the British stockade. If there was one person on this earth that could make him do anything they pleased, it was his dear mother. It was she who had urged him to keep up school when he fell into the lowest place in class. It was she that taught him the importance of learning to mend his own clothes, something he’d done quite often since joining the army. And it was she who had brought him to the Savior and instructed him in how to ask for His pardon. If only the redcoats were that forgiving.

But he could expect no mercy at the hands of his captors. These were the men who had captured his best friend Clint three months before. He shuddered as he thought of the report an escapee had brought them. Clint had been severely beaten and paraded through town to show just how mighty the British army was. He was spat on and condemned as a spy, something he was not. Then, they had taken him to a tree in the town square and hanged him until he was nearly dead.

Stop! He shouted in his mind. He would not allow himself to think of his friend’s end. It was too horrible for human comprehension. And knowing that something similar awaited him… his stomach lurched at the thought.

God, why? He prayed. Why couldn’t I escape? Why did I have to be caught too? Especially since I was trying to do something that would save lives! God, I need to get that information back to camp. People will die… Father, I don’t understand! It’s not that I’m afraid of dying… it’s just, I don’t want mother to hurt and I don’t want more of my people to die! Please, God, let someone figure out what the British are planning!

James viciously wiped his eyes against his shoulders. He shivered as a nor’easter blew in, leaving him chilled to the bone. He was still bleeding, but he could feel his blood freezing to his patched hunting shirt. This country boy certainly wasn’t used to the Yankee winters. He wondered what the fellows were up to. Many of them had thought him foolish to go off and join the Continentals when the Militia was right in their midst. But he knew the cause was the same: Freedom. And he felt he was needed in the main army.

In the big army, he could make a big difference, something he had always longed to do. He was never able to make a difference back home, pretending to be a soldier with the militia. They were all right, just not what he wanted. He wanted to see action, to see real men in battle. To meet the men behind the revolution. Men like George Washington and the Marquis de Lafayette. Men who believed in God and what He could accomplish through them. Men like his colony’s Patrick Henry. And he wanted to be one of those men.

Now, he wished he had listened to his friends. They could have kept him from ridiculous heroics that he couldn’t carry out. They would have told him his heart was in the right place, but his health wasn’t. Why was he always trying to do more than he was capable of? Impulsive, that’s what his first sergeant would say. He was always doing this to himself, even when he was a boy at home. When would he ever learn? Well, obviously he never would now. This impulse would lead to his death.

What would his mother do once he was dead? How would she take care of herself? What if the British reached their hometown? Oh, he should have stayed home! There was no one to protect her now. Some son he had turned out to be. And all her dreams of freedom for him and herself… they would be void to her without her son to share it with her. She had said as much the day he left for war.

“Jamie, don’t you do anything foolish,” she had said, tightening the kerchief about his neck, as if doing so would keep him warm and prevent him from harm. “I want freedom for our country, out from under British rule, but I don’t want to enjoy it alone. You come back to me, you hear me boy?”

“Yes, mother, I promise I’ll come home to you.”

“And you’ll always read your verses in the morning and the evening.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. James had smiled as she tucked his Bible into his knapsack.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll never stop reading my Bible. It’s too precious to neglect.”

But even in this, he had failed his mother. Tonight, his Bible was safe, tucked away in his knapsack in camp… away from him. For the first time since the war began, he would miss his Bible reading.

Be still and know that I am God.

James nearly jumped as the words came into this mind as clearly as if they had been spoken. I know You are God, he thought. My circumstances don’t change my faith.

Be still.

Well, I’m not doing too good a job at that, he admitted. My mind has been anything but still.

Be still and know I am God.

James took a deep breath and exhaled deeply through his nose. All right, God. With Your help, I’ll be still. I’ll try to stop borrowing trouble and rest in the knowledge that You are in control. Please, help me to rest in you.

I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

James blinked as the words repeated in his mind. Peace washed over him as the promise continued to comfort him. I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

Thank You, Lord. That’s exactly what I need, right now, he prayed. And thank You for a mother who taught me to value Your Words and put them to memory. Thank You.

What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.

I certainly am afraid, Lord. Please, take my fears and turn it into trust in Your Almighty hand, Father.

James was growing drowsy. The wind continued to whip at his face, but he suddenly didn’t notice anymore. He felt strangely warm… and so tired…

What do you think will happen next? What is a scripture God has brought to mind in time of trouble? What is something important your parents have taught you?

Click here for more Christmas fun and stop by tomorrow for a Christmas Movie Review!

Merry Christmas!
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

Hello and Merry Christmas! I am so excited to be doing the 12 Days of Christmas Blog Party again this year! I am so glad Faith (Stories by Firefly!) decided to host it!!! Last minute I discovered that I had a Christmas short story written that I had forgotten about! So without further ado, let's hop into Part 1!

Disclaimer: To readers outside the US, this story is About the American Revolution, and thus comes from a Patriot perspective. I apologize in advance if you do not care for the way British soldiers are depicted in this story, but their behavior is based off of research from both the Patriot and British perspective. It is not meant to offend, but to depict a sad reality of American history. In many cases, I have toned down the offenses in the story for reader sensitivity. Bear with me, I don't leave England completely out in the cold and I do think you will enjoy the story once a certain character is introduced.

No! No! he thought as he ran, his feet now numbed by the snow slipping into his ragged shoes. He sprinted into the woods, trying his best to put distance between himself and his pursuers. How could he had been so careless? How could he have let the guards see him?

“Halt, ye rebel! I say, halt, or I will lay ye low!”

The young man ignored him, sprinting through the November snow. Why did they have to have an early snow this year of all years? Then, it wasn’t early for Maryland, he supposed. He was a far cry away from his home in Southern Virginia.

And why, he thought bitterly, but for the stupid dream of glory and adventure. What would mother think?

There was no time to think of that. He had to put distance between him and the enemy. You shouldn’t have volunteered, his thoughts continued against his bidding. Why would Gen. Lafayette trust a mere lad with such an important task? And why was I so stupid to volunteer? What do you want, to die like Nathan Hale? The redcoats kill everyone they catch inside their camp, regardless of uniform.

“Ye can’t run forever!” his pursuers shouted. “We’ll catch ye! Even if ye hides, we’ll catch ye and fetch ye back. You know that!”

The young man panted; he needed to rest. Perhaps if he could find a snow drift to hide behind--

Bang!

Bang!

The bullets whistled through the air, flying closer and closer to their intended target, until at last--

“AHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The cry of pain announced the projectiles’ success in finding their intended target. The raggedly dressed soldier fell to the ground, pain jerking his slender frame. It wasn’t hard for his enemies to find him. They shined their lantern into his face, adding to his pain by blinding him.

“Look here now! It’s as I told ye! It’s a rebel! A dirty rebel swine he is!” The young man cried out as the redcoat bludgeoned him in the face with the end of his musket.

“Aye, but a young one and scrawny at that. The colonel will not be overjoyed at his apprehension.” A second musket crushed against his left eye. A hard kick to the stomach forced the air from his lungs. The red-coated soldiers laughed heartily as the lad moaned at their feet. The lantern was plopped down in the snow as one of the soldiers laughed too hard to hang on to it. The boy cried out, pain ripping through his body.

“Oh, come now, Laddie, it can’t hurt that bad. Fremantle, let us have him back to camp. I say, it’s getting cold out here. Twill likely be that the fellows will have us some warm tea when we get back to camp.”

“Rather! Let’s get the blighter back to camp post haste.” The boy was hauled to his feet and dragged back to the British Camp from which he had been fleeing. The commander met them as they approached the lights of the campfire.

“What have you, gentlemen?” he asked, clasping his hands behind his back and staring down at the whimpering prisoner before him.

“A rebel, sir,” Fremantle replied, giving him a sharp jerk. “He was seen fleeing the wagons, sir. We believe he was either snitching supplies, or—” he said, giving the lad a severe look, “—Spying, my lord.”

The boy groaned, his body pitching forward, nearly taking the guards to the ground. “Ye Yankee devil!” the other guard spat once he regained his balance. He dropped the boy’s arm and raised his rifle, intending to bring it down on the lad’s shoulder blade.

“Stay,” the commander ordered, his steely gaze never moving from the boy’s head. “Raise his face so I can look at him.”

The lad’s head was jerked back, revealing a bruised, bloodied countenance, courtesy of his majesty’s alert and too eager guards. The commander’s gaze bore into the rebel’s eyes, unflinching, unwavering…uncaring.

“Have the prisoner bound and locked up in the guard house for the night. I will hear everything in the morning. I’ve a kettle in the tent that most likely has cooled beyond drinkability already, thanks to this foolhardy youth. My slumber shall not suffer due to him as well.”

The guards saluted their officer and prepared to follow his orders. “Oh, and his wound, my lord? What of it, sir?”

The colonel looked with disdain at the yankee and pulled his lips into a cold, hard line, his black eyes snapping. “Indeed, what of it? I said, soldier, to lock him up, and that is exactly what I mean.”

“Yes, sir, right away, my lord.” The soldiers bowed and jerked their unfortunate captive towards the waiting cell. The guard house was nothing more than a rough-hewn stockade, large enough for a single occupant to slump against the wall. Lying down was impossible and warmth a jest.

Dropping him to the ground, Fremantle rammed the butt of his rifle into his back, pinning him against the mound of freezing snow. With an evil smirk, the second soldier shoved the lad’s face into the snow. Startled the boy tried to force his head back, but met with no success. After several moments, the boy’s body went limp. Fremantle felt his pulse, and satisfied that the boy still breathed, he grunted to his fellow, “On with it now.”

Coarse rope was used to bind the boy’s hands behind his back, followed by his ankles. His ragged shoes and holey stockings were pulled from his feet. The boy roused as they hauled him to his now bare feet. He shivered in the cold, nearly doubled over with pain as the careless soldiers bumped into his side, still bleeding from the second bullet; the first had struck his right leg. A piteous cry escaped his wind chapped lips.

“Ye’d best hush that nonsense, ye yankee dog. Wellington, I say, do give me a kerchief. I’ll silence this rascal for the night, that I will!”

In meager resistance, the boy clamped his mouth shut. This did not deter Fremantle. He forced the cloth between the lad’s teeth, the material cutting into the corners of his mouth. “There, that will keep you from disturbing the peace any more than you already have.”

A muffled groan spilled around the cloth and a second one was wrapped around the first until the redcoats were satisfied that his cries would not be heard. Then, without ceremony, they thrust him into the holding stockade. Instantly, his knees buckled, and he crashed into an uncomfortable heap on the snow floor of the cell.

Snickering and nearly laughing out loud, the soldier pointed and jeered at their prisoner. The young man hid his face from their mirth and tried with all his strength to straighten his body into a more comfortable position.

“Look at the yank,” Wellington said, giggling like an untrained little girl. “Can’t…even…sit properly!”

“What do you expect of a colonist? Around here, they flop out on the floor. They are far too lazy to even bother sitting like a native around a campfire.”

“Righto! He looks more like a deer waiting to be skinned. I say, maybe in that respect he is lucky! A deer would already be dead.”

“Nay, the deer would never have been shot.”

“True, true. How about that spot of tea, old friend? Shall we leave this fool to his misery?”

“Do, lets, good man. Lead the way.”

The door soon swung shut, and James Tanner, Patriot soldier, was alone, bound and gagged in the dark, chilly closet-like building. And there was not a soul who knew to care.

So, what do you think of James Tanner? What sort of fellow do you think he is? Think you can wait until Wednesday to find out more?

Tune in tomorrow for a list of my favorite Bing Crosby Christmas songs!

Click here for more 12 Days of Christmas Blog Party Fun!
In Christ,
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

Another impromptu post for all of you! So I have a Kindle Unlimited subscription and I came across this neat looking book called Preacher on the Run by Jayna Baas. I was intrigued that this book was written about the North Carolina Regulators, the true beginning of the American Revolution and Baptist History! I had just started the story when who should email me, but Jayna herself! She had heard about my blog/books and was wondering if I could join the tour! Long story short, here we are today!

Preacher on the Run
For Liberty and Conscience Book 1
By Jayna Baas
2020
5 Stars
Website || Newsletter Signup || YouTube Channel || Book Trailer ||
Amazon Author Page || Paperback (direct from author) || eBook (Amazon)

North Carolina, 1771
Robert Boothe has spent the last four years leading the tyrant-hating Regulators in standing against North Carolina’s corrupt British government. Just being an unlicensed dissenter preacher is enough to make Robert a target, but he refuses to back down from his conscience. Aside from a sympathetic court justice, the village of Ayen Ford has no other champion for its poor and defenseless.

Then Charles Drake, emissary of His Excellency William Tryon, comes to town with one ambition: winning the governor’s favor, no matter what it takes. And Robert Boothe just might be his last chance.

All Robert wants is a safe place for his little Baptist church to live and worship God. But the established church wants him to shut up. The governor’s men want him dead. And that safe place is farther and farther away.

You can run, but you can’t hide . . .

though she believes German writer Thomas Mann was correct in saying, “A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than for other people.” She enjoys writing and reading in a wide range of genres, but her favorite story is this: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16)

First off, I want to say how pleased I was at house southern this book was. Even the narrative was southern! I can normally spot a northern author writing southerners a mile away, but she did such a good job, I was sure she wasn't originally from Michigan!

And y'all!!!! IT WAS ABOUT THE REGULATORS!!!!!! This is a little known bit of American history that I adore, though I haven't done as much research on it as I would have liked. I have Regulators in my background so, yes, I am so hard-core fangirling over this book!

The history was fantastic, her explanation for Biblical resistance was spot on and she has an excellent Bibliography in the back! She also seperated the fact from the fiction, which I loved!

The characters were well developed and perfectly imperfect. This book has earned it's place in my "books to study" catagory to become a better writer!

Saul was by far my favorite character and watching him grow was amazing. I loved all the discussions on how a man is to treat a woman and the fact that we were created for the the man. It was a beautiful depiction of Christ-like love.

That being said, I was a little uncomfortable with some of the husband and wife scenes. They were not inappropriate, just more than I personally care for.

The only other thing I didn't like was all the negative talk towards the Cherokee. I know that in the mid 1700s there were some Cherokee attacks and I can't change that. But the reason for the attacks was never stated and from what I've read, they didn't usually attack without government provocation. This could be an exception, I don't know. Regardless, it's a sad part of our history. Being a Cherokee decedent, I found all the negativity a bit off putting without more explanation into what the attacks were about. But that's just me and it wasn't the main theme of the story.

Overall, I loved this book! I would gladly hand it off to a sibling (after censoring a few spouse scenes depending on the age)! It's an excellent read and a must for all homeschoolers, North Carolinians, Revolution-Buffs and Baptists! Buy this book! Don't understand why we rebelled against King George? Think the Tea Tax excuse is lame? Find out what really happened!

|| I was gifted a copy of the book for promotional purposes! I was not required to write a positive review and all thoughts are my own. ||

What inspired you to join the Regulators?
If you saw folks’ land being sold out from under them, and greedy officials playing fast and loose with the law, you’d likely join the Regulators, too. What was going on made me mad, and when I get mad, I want to do something about it.
 
What goal would you like to accomplish through your resistance?
What I want, and I think what most of us want, is just the freedom to worship God and make a fair living under fair laws. It might mean getting our own folks chosen to the Colonial Assembly, or it might mean cornering some officials into being accountable. You can’t change a whole government overnight.
 
When this is all over, what would your dream life look like?
I reckon I’ll always want a challenge to go after, but in between times, I’d just want a place to settle down with Elsie. A cabin, some land. Hunting, farming, some trapping maybe. And a passel of young’uns, God willing.
 
What is one scripture that helps you in time of trouble?
“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6). I want to fix things, which is no surprise to folks who know me. I need the reminder that God is at work, and He doesn’t need my help.
 
What advice would you give to someone wanting to join your cause?
Be sure you know what you’re getting into. It won’t help anybody if you talk real loud and then run when the going gets tough. And Pastor Boothe talks a lot about doing things for the right reason, meaning you had better take a stand for something and not just against something.
 
What about Pastor Boothe makes you admire him?
He’s steady. Me, I’m a firebrand. I’ll go off on my own tack and realize later how boneheaded I was. Not Pastor Boothe. He thinks things through, and he makes certain sure he’s listening to the Lord. You can follow a man like that.
 
Do you think your struggle will remain in North Carolina or spread through the colonies?
I don’t rightly know. There were some Regulators in South Carolina, but things didn’t go very far there. A lot of easterners, all the way up to Massachusetts, think we’re rebels. But I hear they’ve got their own squabbles with the King’s men. I don’t know if we’re lighting a fire, or if the fire’s already lit. I’d like to think we aren’t the only ones to take a stand.
 
Pie or cake?
My ma used to make a sugar cake that she said came from the Moravians in Bethabara. But anymore I’d have to say pie. Elsie makes a dried-apple pie that I’d quit the Regulators for.

What inspired you to write this book?
I love Revolutionary War history and strong Christian heroes, and I was tired of finding nothing but romance in the Christian fiction section of the library—not that I don’t read romance, but a girl needs a break now and then! I was also tired of “Christian” stories that had nothing deeper than a quick prayer in desperation. The Regulator Uprising struck me as the perfect setting for an action-packed, danger-filled story of lived-out faith, especially since I love little-known parts of history.
 
Which character was the most fun to write?
Alec Perry was a lot of fun. He just showed up and said, “Here I am, now tell my story”—and his story just kept taking on a life of its own! Hank Jonas was fun, too, especially in how he played off Mitchell and Alec.
 
What can you tell us about the rest of the series?
I’m aiming for three stand-alone novels set several years apart. In the second book, which takes place during the British campaign of North Carolina in 1780-1781, original characters reappear, but the story stars some new ones as well. The third book will (hopefully!) be set in the short-lived State of Franklin, late 1780s. I’m hoping book two will be ready to print by the end of next year, but your guess is as good as mine right now. And of course, all of this is subject to change without notice.
 
Any tips on writing Revolutionary fiction?
Be prepared for tons of research and challenging subject matter. History can be messy, as I’m sure you know. There aren’t always happy endings or black-and-white sides to take. I love this description by British novelist L. P. Hartley: “The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there.” That’s very true, and it’s a writer’s job to act as a “tour guide” in that “foreign country” and make it engaging and understandable to readers without compromising the reality of it.
 
What Bible verse sums up your mission as a writer?
Well, I joke that my life verse is Ecclesiastes 12:12: “Of making many books there is no end,” but in truth, writing is my way of sharing the gospel, encouraging fellow saints, and exercising the gift I’ve been given. I don’t know that there’s just one verse to sum up all of that. As for the writing process itself, a good verse would probably be 1 Thessalonians 5:24: “Faithful is he that calleth you, who also will do it.” That is a huge encouragement when I feel like I’m banging my head on a wall.

There is an epic give away people!

Click here to enter!

That's it for now! Don't forget to check out the rest of the tour stops!

Week One
Nov 2: Leona @ Great Books for God’s Girls
Guest post, excerpt
Nov 3: Madi @ Madi’s Musings
Book review, interview
Nov 4: Kaitlyn @ Maidens for Modesty
Book review, guest post
Nov 5: Laura @ Beautiful Things
Book spotlight
Nov 6: Malachi @ Brainstorms With Rain
Excerpt
Week Two
Nov 9: Abby Rose @ Photos by Abby Rose
Book review
Nov 10: Kelsey @ Kelsey’s Notebook
Guest post, excerpt
Nov 11: Lauren @ Novels That Encourage
Book review, interview, exclusive ebook giveaway
Nov 12: Abigail @ Read Review Rejoice
Excerpt, book spotlight
Nov 13: Callie @ An Unfinished Story
Book review
Week Three
Nov 16: Tara @ Tower in the Plains
Book review
Nov 17: Kelly-Ann @ Musings of a Sassy Bookish Mama
Excerpt
Ryana Lynn @ Life of Heritage 
Book review, character interview
Nov 18: Kassie @ Soldier Girl Stories
Book review
Nov 19: Natalie @ Kenmore Pines
Book review, interview
Nov 20: Michaela @ Tangled Up in Writing
Book review, excerpt, guest post
Tour Wrap-Up
Nov 21: Giveaway winners announced in Rafflecopter widget and on Books by Jayna

Have a Blessed November!
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

Today’s devotion is a little different than normal. Its more of a verse and a list of thoughts on the subject…I hope you enjoy!

Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends
John 15:13
(King James Bible)

We all have Heroes…two of them in fact. The first I plan to talk about it more of a group than an individual…a group of individuals.

He started out wearing his usual clothes, that of a farmer or a blacksmith, a miner or a clergyman. Perhaps he went into the field of battle in that same attire. Eventually, perhaps some kindly woman took the time to make a uniform of Continental Blue to show which army he belonged to.

As the years passed, his uniform changed in style and shade. Some wore blue, some wore gray. Some fought to keep America united, some fought for the Rights that united America. Both fought and died for what they believed was right. Our country has never been the same since. It never will be.

Today, his uniform is much different. It is camo, of various colors, shades, and patterns. His hat has been traded in for a helmet, his musket for an M16. Instead of a horse, he takes a HUMVEE or a BRADLEY.

His battlefield is no longer on American soil but in the deserts of the Middle East.

But one thing has not changed.

He is willing to die for you to be free. Some of his brothers in arms have paid the price for you. And he is ready if it’s his turn this time.
 
Our second Hero also was willing to die for you. In fact, He did.

He is the mighty Creator.

The Prince of Peace.

The Alpha and the Omega.

The First and the Last.

The Way, the Truth, and the Life.

The All-Knowing One.

The One Who listens when we cry out to Him and calms our fears in the midst of the storm.

And the beautiful thing is, He never changes. His motives, thoughts toward us, His Gift of Salvation, none of it has ever changed.

Jesus Christ gave up His throne in Heaven, His Glory and the very presence of God, to come to a sin sick world and live a life as 100% man and 100% God. He lived under the authority of His earthly parents and submitted to their care…when He was the One Who kept them breathing. He preached for 3 years, sharing the Gospel as only He could. He suffered through an unjust mock trial, severe scourging, and the unthinkable agonies of the cross, laying down His Life for our miserable souls. He was buried in a borrowed tomb and of His own power raised Himself to Life on the third day. He did all that for you, so that if you would admit that you are a sinner and repent of your sins, you could spend eternity with Him in heaven.

Two Heroes. One died for freedom. The Other died for your soul. We didn’t ask either of them to do it. But they voluntarily gave their lives for us. What are you gonna do with the gifts they are offering to you?

Thank God for the American Serviceman and the Blood of Jesus Christ, which cleanses us from all unrighteousness.
 
Have a Blessed Memorial Day!
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22

Another month had come and gone, and CHRISTMAS TIME IS HERE! Need I say that this is one of my very favorite Holidays?!? November was busy as usual but in a good way! We had a lovely month, and I can’t wait to share a few things with you!

November Favorites

Bible Verse: Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. James 1:17

This verse has become very special to me over the last several months, and even now, it has permanently become one of my favorites. The visual picture of God as the Father of Lights…it’s breath-taking and mind-boggling. We serve such a truly awesome God. All I can picture is the Northern lights. With our God being the Father and Creator of Lights like that, can you imagine what Heaven will be like? And knowing that every good thing that happens to us, all the blessings we receive, are special gifts just for us from God, is such a special feeling!

Song: I know…I’ve mentioned this song multiple times, but Every Good and Perfect Gift by Adam and Megan Morgan is still on my radar and was an especially loved song this past month.

Event: Getting to gather with my family for thanksgiving two weeks in a row! It was such a blessing to spend time with family, especially those we don’t get to see as often. We had a wonderful time!

Book of the Month: Worth Dying For by Rorke Denver. Mr. Denver is a Navy SEAL and this book…wow, it was profound. He explained why he thinks there is such a divide between military and civilians, how the problem can be fixed, and the whole reason Americans fight. Why we are so dedicated to what we believe in. It was a rare, raw glimpse at the Warrior’s Heart and is not something I will soon forget. His analogy about Sheep, Wolves, and Sheepdogs was so good. Now, there were one or two words I had to mark out, but not used often. After editing, I would gladly hand this over to a 16-year-old. I’m not sure that I agree with everything that he said, but you know, few people agree on everything. Personally, I think every American should read this book, especially our politicians and our up and coming generation.

Ministry: Revival! We had a lovely week of revival with a pastor friend of ours in Liberty, N.C. We got to sing a new song for us girls, God of Wonders (ever heard me talk about that one? 😉). The services were excellent and God did a work in hearts.

Writing Update: We are still editing book 4 of The Battle for Heritage Series and am happy to report that it is going well. I am also drafting Book 5 and making headway. We’ll probably take a break due to Christmas, but we are right on track with our new goals! Also, since Christmas is such an inspiring time of year, I try to take some time to work on future Christmas stories, just for the fun of it!

A Book I am Anticipating for December: Quick note on last month’s anticipated read, The Real Lincoln was so good! 5 stars! If you are interested in that time era and learning some oft-hidden truths about the war, read this book! I’m really looking forward to all the Christmas books! I love this time of year, and I’ve heard about a few new ones I want to check out, as well as reread a few, like Wind Chimes by Victoria Minks and Behold by Faith Potts! Might even dig out my copy of Faith Blum’s O Come All Ye Faithful! And I just realized all of these are collections…
 
And Now, Some Writing Prompts…

That's all for now!
Merry Christmas!
Ryana Lynn
Jude 22