In our part of the country, crops are planted in the spring and harvested in the fall. I used to expect God to work the same way, on a set timetable that I could comprehend. But I found that, through my dad’s illness, God had his own timetable. It took me a while to come to terms with it. Here is my Dad’s story:

In 1986, my dad was diagnosed with cancer. Multiple myeloma to be exact. I was sitting in his hospital room, beside my mother, when the doctor gave his diagnosis. It was a shock. My strong, healthy father had gone into the hospital just a couple of weeks before with severe back pain. I don’t remember much of what the doctor said that day, but I do remember that he told my parents that some of his patients lived as few as two years with that type of cancer, while others lived several years. I left the room to find a quiet place to cry while my parents listened to treatment options.

Our church prayed for Dad, and I believed with my whole heart that God was going to heal him of cancer. There would surely be a miracle for my father, who was a strong, yet humble, Christian.

After several weeks of radiation that left a burnt feeling in his chest, Dad began to undergo chemotherapy. He was off work for several months. Over time, it became evident that God hadn’t chosen to do an instant healing in my dad, but we saw evidence of many miracles in the years following the diagnosis.

The chemo was not pleasant, but it didn’t bring Dad down like we had seen with other people. He never really got sick from it. Nor did he lose all of his hair. (In a later treatment, he did, but it grew back, black instead of gray.)

He was able to return to work without restrictions.  

At the time of his diagnosis, he had only one grandchild, with a second one on the way. He lived to see all fourteen of his grandchildren.

For almost 20 years, he continued chemotherapy treatments. Many people thought he had recovered fully from the cancer, since he didn’t seem sick. And that was the way my father wanted it. He didn’t like to have people make a fuss over him. A quiet, humble man, he lived out his faith day-by-day, and never pushed his values onto other people. The cancer made him more aware of the needs of others, and he valued the time with his family.

Over time, I ceased asking God why He chose not to heal my dad of cancer. While I do not understand why or how things happen, God sees, and knows, and understands. The painful questioning stilled to a quiet wondering. A peace that God is in control, no matter what the circumstances are.

I still believe that we should pray for healing. The Bible says to pray for those who are sick. I often join with others in prayer and faith for healing for their loved ones who become ill or hurt, with full faith that God will heal them. How God chooses to answer those prayers is something over which I have no control.

Sometimes, prayer changes the circumstances. Sometimes, prayer changes someone’s heart. And sometimes, it changes me.

Shortly after Dad’s diagnosis, God gave me the words of this poem, which has a melody in my head:

The Promise of Harvest

They that mourn receive comfort

Sow in tears and reap in joy

Seek first His holy kingdom

Which nothing can destroy

Yes, the harvest time is coming

His promise shall come true

Trust in Him; await the harvest

Peace and joy He’ll bring to you.

If you wait upon the Lord

He shall indeed make you strong

In your heart so full of sadness

He shall put a joyous song

Yes, the harvest time is coming

His promise shall come true

His Word is never failing

And His promise is for you.

Child of God, lift your hands

Lift your voice and sing His praise

There awaits for you a harvest

In the abundance of His grace

Yes, the harvest time is coming

There will be a bright new day

His joy shall be your strength

As He lights your holy way.

Originally, I thought the words, “The harvest time is coming,” meant that God would heal my dad fully from cancer. That didn’t happen. Dad lived for almost 20 years after his diagnosis, but he took chemotherapy and other treatments for all of those years. God didn’t heal him instantly, but he gave Dad a healed life.

I still believe in the message of this song, but I no longer see it as an absolute message about divine healing. God has many promises: salvation through faith in Jesus Christ; everlasting life in heaven when our time on earth has ended; as well as the promise of healing.

I’ve come to recognize that God is the Gardener. He will work in His own way, and in His own time. His promises are true, and one day we will reap the harvest of those promises.

I believe that some will be healed instantly, others will receive healing through medication and treatments, and still others will see their healing fulfilled in heaven.

This month’s theme is “Summer Romance.” June is typically the month for weddings. Today’s featured book is Marrying Mandy, the first book in the Brides of Clearwater series by Melanie D. Snitker.

Inspiration behind the Book:

I love reading contemporary marriage of convenience stories, and I wanted to write one showing how two people can start off as friends and, with God’s help, fall in love and together become the family they’ve always dreamed of having.

About the book:

A marriage of convenience might be crazy… or an answer to both of their prayers.

Mandy Hudson swore she’d never marry. Abandoned by her parents and raised by her grandparents, she has a hard time trusting that real love will last. When her grandmother dies, Mandy’s shocked to discover a stipulation in the will. Considering marriage to her best friend may be the only way to keep her family’s beloved bed-and-breakfast.

The loss of his job threatens Preston Yarrow’s shaky financial stability. Besides, he can’t watch his best friend give up the only real home she’s ever known. Frustrated by Mandy’s stubborn refusal to let him help, he’s certain they are stronger together than they are apart.

Excerpt:

Mandy turned her head to look at Preston. He was staring out toward the river, his eyes narrowed. His serious expression worried her.

“I have an idea, but you’re not going to like it.” He shifted his focus to her.

Butterflies filled Mandy’s stomach and her heart flip-flopped in her chest. She knew where he was going and shook her head. “No.”

Preston moved until he faced her. They both sat cross legged, their knees touching. “Hear me out. And while you do, think about it logically.”

She fought against the instinct to leap to her feet and walk back to the house. If she had any other options, she probably would have. Instead, she straightened her spine, set the bag of muffins on the grass beside her, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Go ahead.”

“If we got married—” He held up a hand to stop her when she started to object. “You promised you’d hear me out.” Preston waited long enough to make sure she would keep her word and continued. “If we got married, there’d be no problem with you keeping the B&B. The lawyer said you only needed to be married a year. At that point, the house and land will be yours—just as it should be. You don’t have to put anything in my name.”

Mandy’s jaw dropped. “You’re suggesting a marriage in name only? What is this, the 1800s? You’re insane.” She considered what he said and frowned. “So, we’d stay married for a year, and then what? Get a divorce?”

“If that’s what you want.” Preston’s expression made it difficult for Mandy to tell what he was thinking.

Disbelief toward his idea gave way to anger. “You know what I dealt with as a kid. My parents got a divorce and signed me over to my grandparents like an old car or something. There are a lot of things I’m determined to not do and getting a divorce is one of them. So yeah, that’s not happening.”

“Then we don’t get a divorce.” His brows rose, and he stared at her with a look daring her to counter him. In the past, it usually preceded a list of reasons for why he was right, and she was wrong.

That wouldn’t work this time. He hadn’t dared her to climb a tree or race him to the edge of the river. This was marriage they were talking about. And since she didn’t believe in divorce, they were also talking about forever. It’d take a lot more than goading or stroking her ego to get her to agree.

About the author:

Melanie D. Snitker is a USA Today Bestselling Author who writes inspirational and sweet romance novels. She and her husband live in the beautiful Texas Hill Country with their two children who keep their lives full of adventure. They share their home with two dogs, a guinea pig, two lizards, three frogs, and a toad. In her spare time, Melanie enjoys photography, reading, baking, computer games, and hanging out with family and friends.

Author media links:

Website – https://www.melaniedsnitker.com/

Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/melaniedsnitker

Instagram – https://www.instagram.com/melaniedsnitker/

Amazon – https://www.amazon.com/Melanie-D.-Snitker/e/B00MGOUYRW

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8440136.Melanie_D_Snitker

Bookbub – https://www.bookbub.com/authors/melanie-d-snitker

Buy Link:

The star of this month’s Cat Tail is Dumbo, my brother’s cat. Dumbo is a 2-year-old Flame Point Siamese male. I asked my brother if he would share some photos and interesting details about Dumbo, who is very unique.

Dumbo is very friendly even to strangers. He greets everyone by walking around their feet and laying on his back for a short belly rub.

Dumbo likes to go outside. He gets up and sits on my laptop and stares at me to let me know he’s ready for us to go out.

Dumbo follows me everywhere outside in the yard like a dog. He even comes when I call. Climbs on everything, trees, cars,the house roof. He understands the word “No” and stops and sits down when you tell him no if I’m opening the door but want him to stay inside.

I give him rides in the wheelbarrow. He enjoys that and even jumps in by himself sometimes.

Today’s guest is author Michelle Lowe. Michelle, thank you for joining me today. Tell us a little bit about yourself.

I have been married to my husband, Brian, for twenty years. We have a wonderful son, Jake, and one lazy hound dog named Daisy. We live in Asheboro, North Carolina where I enjoy cooking for my family and searching for Native American Indian arrowheads on our property.

What is your book about?

When Sage Patterson is forced to sell her mother’s beloved beach house, she at least hopes to put all the hurt and embarrassment of the previous year behind her. With her loyal friend and rescue dog, Molly, by her side she finds refuge in the tranquil settings of Ocean Isle Beach, watching each evening a mysterious painter paint by the waterway. This temporary refuge is interrupted, however, when real estate attorney Jacob Gable threatens to steal her heart and push her towards forgiving the man who ultimately broke her trust, making her realize there is much more at stake than only losing her mother’s precious beach house.

What is the inspiration behind your story?

The inspiration for The Maritime Cure was my mom who bravely battled Multiple Sclerosis for nearly fifteen years.

Do you have a day job? If so, how do you find time in your day to write?

I do have a day job, as a Registered Nurse. I work part-time so this affords me time to write. I especially enjoy writing early on weekend mornings with a cup of coffee in hand, or when the weather is bad outside.

Are you a night owl or morning person?

I am a morning person. I love to get up early and I’m usually spent by 8:30pm or so. My family and friends are aware of this and regularly enjoy joking about my early bedtime habit.

What does your family think of your writing?

My family has been very supportive and excited for me. This means more than I could possibly express.

Who was the first person you allowed to read your completed book?

My friend Alicia, who is also a nurse. We laughed recently when I found an old story in which she had critiqued in the margins with a red pen!

Do you have a favorite author or book?

My favorite Book is The Black Opal by Victoria Holt. I have read almost all of her books and have my mom’s old hardbacks- which are beautiful!

What’s next for you as an author?

I have two more novellas which will be published soon by Anaiah Press.

Where can readers find you online?

instagram.com/authormlowe

twitter.com/Author_MLowe

facebook.com/MichelleSLoweAuthor

GIVEAWAY:

Michelle is giving away an adult coloring book with the Bible verse, BE STILL AND KNOW. You can enter the drawing at the following link.

http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/6ae93a9b9/?

Buy link:

To celebrate June as the traditional month of weddings, today’s story is about a diamond engagement ring.

Once upon a time, a young man took a young woman to a jeweler’s to look at engagement rings. She had her finger sized (just in case) and looked at a display of diamonds and wedding sets. Her favorite was a diamond solitaire that was so brilliant it glistened in the overhead lights. Not a full carat, but very beautiful.

A few days after the visit to the jeweler’s, the young man stopped by his beloved’s home. On bended knee, he asked her to marry him, and he presented her with the ring in a little pink box. She was thrilled, and accepted his proposal.

She showed off her new diamond to family, friends and co-workers.  Their “ooh’s” and “aahs” over the diamond made her very proud.

Through several years of marriage, two children and added pounds, that diamond remained a constant presence in the woman’s life. She had only to glance at the diamond to know that she was loved by the man with whom she was walking through life.

One afternoon the woman took her young son to the grocery store. As she pushed the cart, her son played “semi truck” with it. This involved pushing and pulling on the little front seat, adding the loud noise that the “air brakes” made. As they rounded a corner, the mother’s finger was caught in the “air brakes,” causing instant pain.

Not wanting to make a scene, the woman quietly finished her shopping and left the store. She was halfway home when she glanced at her ring finger, as she always looked at the diamond glistening in the sunshine. A sick feeling entered the pit of her stomach as she realized the diamond was gone. She knew instinctively that it broke off when her hand got caught in the “air brakes.”

When she got home, she told her husband what had happened, hoping he would be understanding. Maybe he could find it if he went back to the store. After all, whenever she lost one of her contacts on the bathroom floor, he was the one to find it.

Alas, he was not very sympathetic to her loss. “You’ll never find it now,” he said. She had to try, so she returned to the store. Searching every inch of the aisles turned up empty. Sadly disappointed, she returned home.

Unfortunately the diamond was uninsured. The warranty was invalid, since returning to the jewelry store to get it inspected and cleaned every six months had been inconvenient. The diamond was lost for good.

You’re probably guessing that I am the woman in the story. I cried that day when my beautiful diamond was torn from my finger. I didn’t blame my little son. He was simply playing a game he’d played before. I did have to deal with forgiveness towards my husband for not returning to the store to help me search for it. And I had to deal with forgiveness towards myself, for not following through with the warranty requirements.

Even if we bought another diamond to replace that one, we could not replace the sentiment in which it was given. The gift of love that promised a lifetime of happiness could never be replaced.

I pretty much accepted that I would never have another diamond. So I was very surprised and happy when on Christmas Day my husband presented me with a little burgundy box. Inside I found a one-carat diamond solitaire.

Whether he realized it or not, my husband was reaffirming his love for me with his gift. His action told me that if he had to do it all over again, he would still choose me.

Because of the first situation, we were careful this time. However, we had a mishap with the ring that almost lost it forever.

On the way to church on morning, I was applying lotion to my hands. I slipped the ring off and laid it in my lap. Then it was gone. I yelled at my husband to stop the car and help me search for it, but he didn’t. Half mile down the road, I finally got him to stop. I opened the door and got out, which was a mistake. After searching the car, we didn’t find it. We turned around, too upset to go on to church.

As we drove home, a song played on the radio. The song that says the Lord is more precious than gold. I knew that was true, but I prayed silently, “Not this ring, Lord. I don’t want to lose this ring.” A glance at my husband showed his disgust over the incident.

Before we arrived home, I realized it might have fallen on the ground when I got out of the car. I talked him into returning to the place where we had stopped. We searched through a couple of inches of snow. We had almost given up hope when I brushed the snow lightly with my foot. A glint of gold shone through the white. It was my ring. I picked it up and put it on my finger. Rejoicing, but subdued.

Fortunately, this story had a happy ending.

P.S.: The ring is now insured.