An inspirational blog to encourage, uplift, motivate and minister through application of the scriptures.
It’s that time again! Author L G Boyle will be at the Shepard Winter Arts/Crafts Show this Saturday!
Be sure to stop by and get your signed copies of Touched, Immaculate and Triumvirate!
I feel blessed beyond measure to be a featured author (again) at Holiday on the Farm Artisan & Craft Market. Author LG Boyle will be on the scene with copies of Touched, Immaculate AND (God willing) a special preview of book three: Triumvirate! I may even have advance copies available – YAY! I hope to see you there. I’ve included the details below:
7626 Ashley Rd, Yorkville, IL 60560-9741
Saturday, September 30th, 10 AM – 4 PM
Admission: $5 per car
Meanwhile, enjoy this synopsis of TRIUMVIRATE!
Three young children, Mal, Ari and Martha, have been “touched” and are in possession of enormous talents, bestowed on them by a chance encounter with the Young Master. Now Ari, Mal and Martha find themselves in the wrong place and time because Ari has done the unthinkable, resulting in a perpetual red dawn. But that is the least of their worries! Ari is on the run, while Mal and Martha attempt to keep their enemy at bay. The Strange Man is back and he’s got even more sinister tricks up his sleeve …
“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.” 1 Corinthians 2:9
When I was still a young girl, my brother, Joe, embarked on a journey of The Sandlot variety. It was epic. For years we’d heard rumors of a chocolate factory nearby. It was the legend that made children salivate. Chocolate. Factory. Just the words conjured images of confections out of our wildest dreams – like a Santa’s workshop for chocolate. One day Joe and his friends announced, “We’re going to find the chocolate factory.” Ooooh. Our eyes got big. That they would even contemplate the journey was fantasy, let alone attempt it. It was daring and adventurous. The group set out like Littlefoot and friends from The Land Before Time to do, what seemed, the impossible.
We didn’t tell our mothers, my sister and I, nor did the other girls, what the boys were up to. But back then, mothers expected you to be back home when the streetlights came on. So by the time it was full dark, my mother began to worry. Before she could raise the full alarm, though, Joe was back. In his hand, he carried a red square bucket (similar to the chitterling buckets seen in supermarkets). Melted dark liquid lay in its bottom. CHOCOLATE! We whooped and crowed at the success of their venture and dipped our fingers in it, licking it off our fingers. We paid rapt attention as my brother told how this was merely a portion of the original score, as he had eaten quite a bit of it on the way home. For years to come, I would think of his story and wonder just where the chocolate factory lay. I did have an idea of the general vicinity, for whenever I drove to a certain part of town, the scent of chocolate in the air would betray its presence. Instantly, I’d be transported to that childhood memory.
The funny thing is, I’m not a great fan of chocolate. I only eat it in certain applications – like with nuts (especially with caramel) or on cake. Still, even now, that scent can get me riled. So, imagine my pleasure and surprise while I’m driving into work one day and take a different route to avoid traffic. The smell assailed my nostrils – more tantalizing and pungent than Garrett’s caramel and cheese popcorn mix. It was strong and very close. I craned my neck in each direction, eager to learn the location. Just to know, at last. Maybe then, I’d feel like I’d completed the journey, too. (I’m a terrible Chicagoan, I know – I didn’t know where the Sears/Willis Tower was located until I worked next door, LOL) And there it was, right in front of me. A beige, non-descript building with a sign that read, Blommers Chocolate Company. WOW.
I thought it ironic that I could be down the street from this iconic place and not even know it. I was looking at a piece of my history, a page out of my childhood. Proof that Joe’s story was real. It occurred to me then, the implications of what it could mean. I look for God in everything – from the secular to the sacred, the ridiculous and the sublime. I recalled a dream I once had, coincidentally, of chocolate. It was of my favorite cake that my mother used to bake – yellow cake with chocolate icing. The triangular slice was so huge that my hand could hardly contain it. My hand was stretched to the limit and I could barely open my mouth wide enough to take a bite. When I told my friend, who is a believer in dreams, she interpreted it thusly: “It means something good is coming your way. Chocolate is dessert, decadent. It represents the best things in life. You’re about to be blessed!” She was right. I received a promotion and my own office soon after that.
As I think on that dream, chocolate on the wind has come to mean more than the distant memory of Joe’s adventure. It has become an omen for me of good things to come. It means something good is nearby – maybe even around the corner or up the street. It could be right in front of me. When I catch that scent now, it bring a smile to my face every time, because it reminds me that I’m upwind of wonderful blessings that may not be seen but are surely in within my reach. Good things are on their way. The wind fortells it 😉 God has great things in store for me.
Be blessed,
Loria
Originally published on: Dec 3, 2014
Contact Person: Loria Boyle
Book’s Name: Immaculate, 2nd novel in the Touched series
Email Address: [email protected]
Web site address: www.thewordinmylife.com
Mailing address: P.O. Box 181, Midlothian IL 60445
Chicagoland Area, July 22, 2016 – Join Author L.G. Boyle to kick off the release and book signing of her second novel, Immaculate, on Sunday, August 7th hosted by Grant Memorial AME Church, 4017 South Drexel in Chicago at 1:30 pm. The first novel in the series, Touched, was sparked by the Sunday school teachings of Loria Gillespie-Boyle. Writing under the pen name, L.G. Boyle, the results have far exceeded her expectations, wowing friends, family and strangers. Touched and Immaculate are both available in paperback and Kindle on Amazon. The books can also be downloaded electronically via her blog and website, www.thewordinmylife.com.
L.G. Boyle creates a universe where the characters leap across time as their tale becomes intertwined with great stories of the Bible. The premise is lifted from a popular scripture where Jesus tells his disciples, “Suffer the little children to come unto me and forbid them not, for such is the kingdom of God.” After the people bring their little ones forward so that he can bless them, the Young Master (Jesus) endows three of the children (Mal, Ari and Martha) with gifts taken right out of the legendary Israelite exodus from Egypt.
Touched has thrilled readers of all ages, ranging from ten years to senior citizen. One reader recommends the stories because they are “wholesome, suspenseful, and inspirational.” The sequel, Immaculate, picks up right where its predecessor left off. As may be inferred from the title, the heroes (and heroine) go on a quest to save the Christ child.
Fans of Christian fiction read more than most Americans, a survey in May of 2015 revealed, and buy books more often. They also have a tendency to follow books in a series, according to the report: Christian Fiction Readers: Worth Pursuing, Worth Keeping. Historical fiction, under which Touched and Immaculate fall, is a popular genre. The author envisions that her work will birth many such tales, and is already at work on her third novel.
L.G. Boyle is a great fan of the Bible and loves to tell her versions of the stories found therein. At the urging of her friends, she began to write a blog, The Word in My Life, to encourage others by applying Bible scriptures to life events. She can be found on Twitter and Instagram as lgboyle1. For a full biography, go to https://thewordinmylife.com//about-me/
Press Contact:
Secondary Contact: Norvella Johnson, Assistant
Email Address: [email protected]
Links to Book: Touched and Immaculate
High resolution photos available at www.thewordinmylife.com
Twitter and Instagram, lgboyle1
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“The Lorax came out of me being angry. In The Lorax I was out to attack what I think are evil things and let the chips fall where they might.” Dr. Seuss
I saw the press conference where the fifteen year old son of Alton Sterling broke down. He tried to be there for his mother, as the oldest of five children, while she talked about how Alton was killed by police. Her son hid his face in a corner of his shirt as she spoke on the tragedy but grief soon overwhelmed him. I’m sure he had heard of the deaths of Mike Brown, Sandra Bland, Tamir Rice and others at the hands of law enforcement. He was old enough to know, as the entire black community in every city now realizes, it could happen to any of us, at any given time. But how can you prepare for this tragedy? It makes no sense. Our life expectancy shouldn’t be shortened because we are black. But none of us, man nor woman, young or old, are exempt no matter how compliant we are. I’m just as certain Sterling’s son thought, as anyone would under similar circumstances: NOT MY FATHER. How did things turn for the worse so quickly? Unbelievable. And inexplicable. It’s a sad day in America when this has become the norm, the killing of black citizens for routine infractions. It was an unjustifiable violent act against an unarmed man. A sad day, not just for blacks, but for every American.
Lately, I’ve been recalling to mind a novel by Stephenie Meyer, The Host. I enjoyed it although it didn’t reach the same level of fame as its predecessor, Twilight. The premise was one we’ve heard before – aliens come to earth and inhabit our bodies. It was regarded as a hostile takeover by humans but as one much needed by an alien race with superior technology. Because they were peaceful, they viewed our society as barbaric. They watched us for a while in secrecy and viewed our news reports. They saw all the evil that men do. These glowing, caterpillar-like creatures were inserted into the minds of humans and changed their behavior. The alien race did away with crime, poverty and sickness. As Wanda, the host, explained, “We make life better.” They were saving us and our planet from us. We were the villains.
I can’t help but agree with the assessment of Wanda’s alien race on our society. Looking at our news reports is enough to make us see the need for change. We need a takeover. And though I can be a Pollyanna and choose to live optimistically, my hopes do not lie in us ever getting it together. The Bible tells us a Utopian existence can only be ushered in upon Jesus’ return. I wait and hope for that day but live in the here and now. What about THIS day? People say: We need to do more than pray! And that is true. Actions are in order. But let us not forget that prayer is our most effective weapon against evil. When the folks who are in authority misuse their power, it is the epitome of the spiritual wickedness that sits in high places. It is for this reason that our weapons of warfare cannot only be those we can see (Ephesians 6:12).
This morning I cried as I learned of the death of yet another, Philando Castile, at the hands of police. I’m angry, frustrated, fed up and tired of all three. Lots of folks on social media are silent. Speechless, I think, because we cannot comprehend the horror. We don’t watch the video because we don’t wanna know. We don’t want to cry or have sympathy for the victim because that destroys our illusion of safety via compliance. The idea that someone could deserve such a fate is ludicrous. The truth is, it can happen to anyone – black or white – and it has. There are those who like to interject: What about black on black crime? As if that could be an excuse for reprehensible behavior on the part of police. What about white on white crime? Asian on Asian? Latino? LGBT? So what? One has nothing to do with the other. Shame on those who jump to defend the perpetrators with such an argument without sparing one moment of sympathy for a life taken senselessly and so soon. But even had you cried, it would have changed nothing. But you might have been stirred to action. So let us be done with our tears and victim blaming and find a solution to this problem.
Years ago, I stood in a grocery line that was only slightly backed up and watched as the cashier gave the elderly lady in front of her hell for going over the limit and for using food stamps. Because it was a cash only line, the cashier claimed that food stamps were not cash. She was about as disrespectful to the old lady as you could be without cursing. I looked at the motherly woman and saw my own Madear and thought: She better not try that with me! And all the things I would do and say to her. When it was my turn, she proved just as belligerent to me. Of course, I told her off and called her manager to report her. He merely agreed with me, said she had been reprimanded in the past but he would talk to her again. Too late, I saw that instead of waiting for my chance to stand against her alone, I should have stood up for the old lady and then it would have been BOTH of us against her. That would have been quite a ruckus. Too many times we wait until it is time to defend our own. We walk away because we don’t want to get involved. But there is strength in numbers.
Repeatedly, the Bible urges us to “watch and pray.” The time has passed for praying only. When you see that there is a problem, instead of saying: “Someone should do something about that,” know that God has called you. Esther could have stayed comfortable in the palace and watched as her people were killed, but her Uncle Mordecai urged her to identify with the Jewish population and speak up. She fasted and prayed, then she acted. And we should watch for those opportunities to say something, putting ourselves in the shoes of those of us who are being persecuted instead of distancing ourselves. We think if we are not like them, we are safe. But this last gentleman who was killed was just a regular guy. The time has come for us to not continue to turn blind eyes and deaf ears to the problem just because it makes us uncomfortable. People are dying. In America.
Oh Lord, that you would come in and inhabit us with your spirit so that we can no longer commit vile acts against each other, being neither the recipient, nor the perpetrator. Let those who are guilty receive their just recompense. Reward them according to their deeds for only you know their hearts. Teach us to pray, give us the words to say to move you on our behalf. But you already have: Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven. This is your model for prayer. And if it weren’t possible to have your will be done in this life, I don’t think you would have included that line in your example. So we will pray until YOUR will is accomplished. I don’t believe what we’re living is it. I also pray and remember that when the Israelites were oppressed and cried out for deliverance, you answered them time and again. We are your people, too. And you will answer us, for you love justice. A perfect society may be too much to hope for, but you make things better. We all can do better.
“Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not,” The Lorax.
Be blessed,
Loria
“But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people …” (1 Peter 2:9)
“And if the elevator tries to break you down, go crazy!” Purple Rain soundtrack
This is one of the first images, my early recollections of the Artist who would be known as Prince. Little did I know then that he would become embedded, intertwined in the fabric of my life. I consider myself somewhat of a fan, though not a fanatic. I would find myself singing a Prince tune frequently, mostly when I was happy. For some reason, more often than not, it was Raspberry Beret … the kind you find in a second hand store, LOL! And nothing can get me stoked like the first bars of Glamorous Life (to this day, I am fascinated with female musicians, especially drummers), Nasty Girl (Don’t judge me!) and When Doves Cry. I was your typical young girl; if it had a great beat, catchy refrain and made me want to dance, count me in. And on a particularly morose first day of my work week, you could hear me singing Manic Monday. But the love for his songs continued past my youth. After my divorce, I found and fell in love with his rendition of, I can’t make you love me if you don’t. But even that was more because of his arrangement and vocal style than because of the depressing subject matter. So many great songs and wonderful memories. A childhood friend remarked, after meeting him, that he was tiny. Smaller than her and she was pretty petite. But his stage presence was larger than life.
Purple Rain was a huge hit, it even received a ringing endorsement from Roger Ebert (which was pretty cool at that time). I remember our excitement and fever at the prospect of going. And it was a movie for grown ups. Unlike a lot of musical talent today, he didn’t try to appeal to the tween generation of his time. He made his music, racy lyrics and all, unapologetically. I give him points for living his life on his terms. Even to changing his name when it suited him and refusing to be owned by the powers that be. It takes courage and a great sense of self to do that in a world that’s always pushing us to conform. His musical genius is, was undeniable.
One song which arose from that movie, I could count on to pick me up most times when I was feeling down: Let’s Go Crazy! For some reason the lyrics to this particular song resonated with me. “Not gonna let the elevator BREAK US DOWN!” That elevator was life. That elevator was The Man, people in authority, your boss or anyone that tried to oppress you, to put you down and keep you down. The circumstances and situations that arose to test your resolve to excel, to challenge your determination to succeed. That elevator, man, you couldn’t let it get to you. This appealed to the rebellious streak in me. My manager used to always ask this question after a training session to ensure that it had been helpful: What are your take aways? I took this message from the life of Prince: when faced with obstacles, get radical. Be so good at what you do, you can’t be ignored. Smile in the face of your haters, perpetrators and instigators, knowing that you can’t be stopped from reaching your goal. That way of thinking could require some arrogance on your part (or so it may seem to an onlooker) or, great faith in God who bestowed upon you unimaginable gifts that could propel you.
When I was a little girl, my family lived in an apartment building on the eighth floor. Frequently the elevator would break down. Which meant for us, a manual trip up and down those eight flights of stairs. No mean feat, I can assure you, after a visit to our local grocery store where my mother would shop for her family of, coincidentally, eight people. So of course, she could not let a malfunctioning elevator stop her, it could only slow her down. Did I also mention, she didn’t have a car? Nor did she drive. So a trek on foot to and from the store was followed by a long haul up and down the stairs until everything was safely ensconced in our little kitchen. Lack of car or elevator just forced her to choose another way to get things done. That other way often forces us to be more creative, to think outside to box or to construct another box altogether. Can’t find a job? Make one! Looking for your piece of the pie? Fuggedaboutit! Make your OWN pie. Throw all of those preconceived notions, those conventional barriers to success out the window.
Being creative can make you appear unusual to other folks. Peculiar, even. You’ll look downright crazy at times. What? You don’t want to work a regular job until you die? Something must be wrong with you! It goes against the norm. But I revel in being different. It’s so stifling to me to be otherwise. So when I hear that song it is actually empowering to me. It has become symbolic of my struggle. It says to me, it’s ok to be you. Be original. Be true to who you are. And whatever happens, don’t let life get you down. Persevere. Push through it, get back up – no matter how many times you have to do it or how many tries it takes. Don’t give up. GO CRAZY.
Be blessed,
Loria
They said to each other, “Come, let’s make bricks and bake them thoroughly.” They used brick instead of stone, and tar for mortar. Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.” Genesis 11:3-4 NIVI recently went to see the movie, Selma, with my kids. Frequently, I find myself referring to it as “Glory,” because I can’t get the Oscar winning song by John Legend and Common out of my mind. I didn’t expect the movie or the song to affect me in such a profound way. I grew up hearing the stories of our downtrodden people who refused to accept the hand they had been given, the names assigned to them, or their status in society. In the battles they faced for equality, they could have let it keep them in a place of bitterness. They could have let it take them to a place, mentally, where they fought with the very people who were trying to help and thereby, accomplishing little by themselves. They chose, instead, to embrace their fellow man in the struggle, working together to change our world, and hoping for a better life for ALL despite the bleak outlook.
God, too, knows the power of togetherness. When the people of the world got together to create a tower that would reach the heavens, he thwarted their efforts by changing their speech. I am convinced that God had no problem with unification among the people but he did have a problem with the why of their enterprise – to reach heaven. Not that they could reach it, lol! In my mind, I see the people envisioning themselves in heaven and being in charge of things. They would become gods. They would run it! So their cause was not noble, but an attempt to unseat and dethrone God, himself.
On this day, the fiftieth anniversary of Bloody Sunday, commemorated by our first black president, we pause to reflect the power of unity. Sadly, we have not lived up to the promise of the civil rights movement. Black Americans across the country endure atrocities and are still being denied their basic civil rights. Still, though, I am encouraged because that era gave us a legacy. In it, we find that we can do great things when we come together, as a nation, with one accord. Even, change the world. Let us now put our hand to the plow and finish the work our forefathers began.
Be blessed,
Loria
Therefore it says, “Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.” Ephesians 5:14
“I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve.” (Attributed to Isoroku Yamamoto after the bombing of Pearl Harbor)
Ferguson, Missouri is still in an uproar, and rightfully so, after the shooting death of Michael Brown. For everyone who has tried to downplay the outrage, I offer this: What if he was your son? Would that stir you to action? Take off all of the filters that have been placed on this incident to distort our vision – he was a bully, he was a robbery suspect, he was young and black (therefore, likely a troublemaker) – and replace them with the only one that matters. He was human. A life has been ended once again – whether by the hands of police, vigilantes, or each other – it’s just wrong. We have come to devalue life and it is accepted as normal. And there are those who would add to the killing, eye for an eye, as if that would solve the problem.
Once upon a time, our nation was filled with hope for the future of our country. We shall overcome, was sung hand in hand. Marches for freedom and equality were made. Instead of taking up arms, we took each others’ arms. All races worked side by side to fix the problem. The goal was to leave a better world for the next generation. I’m too young to have been part of that movement but I was raised on the stories and the accounts in the news. I recall visions of Coretta Scott-King at the funeral of her husband. And that he had a dream. “One day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal.” Oh, but it was a great dream! But, sadly, even with the advent of an African American president, it has not yet been realized.
We have been divided into two camps, those who support the officer, and those who denounce his actions. Let me say that I have the utmost respect for police officers. They do what many of us would not, could not do. They are warriors on our streets, some of them having served in our military. We honor them for that. But we cannot paint them all with a broad brush. They are neither all right, nor all wrong. They are individuals, people with spotty pasts, sometimes causing them to make bad decisions for which they should be held accountable. Same with Mike Brown. He was neither villain nor saint. He was an imperfect person. Regardless to how we try to justify what was done, what followed afterwards only makes the whole event more questionable. We have video of him lying in the street. For hours. Horrendous.
What we have, I believe, is not a race issue but a human issue. I think we can justify what is done to others because it’s not been done to us. God forbid and help us all that we should only care if it touches us directly. I, myself, have been guilty of sitting in my suburban cul de sac and thinking, “I’m glad I don’t live in Chicago,” when I hear of another shooting. Peace and safety, we think, from the comfort of our homes. But the Bible says that is when destruction is certain to come. We have become a nation of “Us” and “Them.” We distance ourselves. “That’s their problem,” we think. But it’s our problem. Not just a black problem. It’s a people problem. If we don’t care for them, their calamity may one day spill out and over into our own streets. Indeed, it’s already happening. Our suburbs are not so reliably safe anymore.
So what will it take, if not the death of Mike Brown to wake us up and stir us to action? To make us realize that we are one? That we stand or fall together? What affects one, will eventually affect us all. Our humanity lies in identifying with the struggle, not in distancing ourselves. So I say, yes, let us take up arms, but not against each other. As defenders of this great country, let us stoke that fire, the smoldering embers that have caused us to take offense for our brothers’ and sisters’ sake, our fellow human beings, and make right what has been wrong for so long. We are that same giant that has risen to the defense of the hapless and maltreated across the planet. It’s a sad day when Egypt and Iraq can condemn America, and Amnesty International has reported to the scene to insure that our human rights are not being violated. Defender of the world called on the carpet for the mistreatment of our own citizens. Wow.
We can do better America. We must. The eyes of the world are on us. I’m calling on all that is noble in each of us to respond and to awaken that apathetic sleeper in all of us. We must care what happens to our fellow Americans. I find encouragement from those who have had their own inner giant stirred to action. I see not only black faces but white faces in the crowd, protesting, fed up, as they should be. I’ve heard stories of residents who’ve banded together to protect stores from looting and helped to put back together the businesses that have been ransacked. And the 90 year old holocaust survivor who showed up for the demonstration and was arrested – how cool was that? May God grant me that same fire and resolve when I am her age! People are protesting peacefully together against injustice, instead of being divided into us and them. Because it’s just wrong. We all know it.
In the words of Dr. King, “Now is the time to change racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice ring out for all of God’s children.” I have hope that good can come from all of this and that maybe the dream is not so out of reach.
Be blessed,
Loria
