The Invisible Bonds

Well, Josie, here is the story a verse in your post reminded me of. It's a bit old, but it's close to my heart because it is true.

The hidden floor boards creak as I plod down the carpeted hallway. Grimy hand prints are smeared across the wall, consequences of the continual traffic of seven kids through the halls. The walls are soft and dented, that old compressed sawdust stuff they used in houses a century ago. Paint chips off the trim here and there, revealing hints of beautiful wood work. My house is old, but not abandoned. It may be falling apart and patched in places, but well-loved. It has a story whispering for attention amid the the rattling of the windows, the groaning of the floor boards, and the shouts of the adolescents. The story has nothing to do with the gurney carts and embalming fluids once stored in the basement. Neither does it speak of the pews that once crowded the game room or the wealthy family that once lived here ages ago. This story is of laughter, tears, and triumph. It is of a strong, invisible bond fastened by the invisible God. Since the house has no lips to speak the story that grew within its walls, I gladly embrace the opportunity to speak for my beloved home.

When I was barely a year old, my family moved into the “big, white house,” as it has often been referred to. At the time, a good portion of the place served as a Church building. My Dad was to be the next preacher there, thus he was given the opportunity to live in the other portion of the house which served as a parsonage. The kitchen was green, one bathroom was pink, the carpet was beautiful shades of green and orange...Obviously the place needed some serious help; but it doesn't take updated carpet or stylish décor to create a beautiful home. All it takes is a little bit of love, and trust me, I received an overabundance! I had loving parents, a loving brother, and a loving Church family. Fast forward one year later and then came along brother number two. Skip another couple years, and I had a total of 3 brothers who were my 3 best friends...Well, most of the time. Mom home-schooled every one of us, and both my parents seized the opportunity to teach us God's Word and to pray. Little did they realize what a dangerous thing they were doing. Although they by no means regret the action, I wonder if they would have had any second thoughts if the results had been revealed to them beforehand.

Every night before bed, I lifted up my prayer. It went something like this, “Dear God, please give me a little sister.” It would seem that my prayer evaporated into empty air and that my secret would never go beyond the listening ears of my parents and the drafty walls; yet, somehow my prayer seeped through through the window and drifted upward toward the ever listening ears of our Heavenly Father. My prayer wasn't alone either. Amid the flood of prayers ever drifting toward heaven, He took three very different prayers and joined them in a common plan.

As my mom was driving down the road one day, listening to gospel music, she began to pour her heart out to God, expressing her desire to do more for Him. It was in that moment, that a vivid vision of a crying girl, entered her mind. Although the image of a blond-haired, blue-eyed little girl was not the clearest of answers, it was all my parents needed.  They began to look into possibly doing foster care. Before long they were taking foster care classes and hoping to adopt a little girl.

My brothers and I were super excited. I was going to have a little sister! At the time we were blind to all the hardships that could occur. We just knew we were going to be giving a home to someone who desperately needed it, and the warnings didn't do much to hinder our excitement.

As my parents learned more about foster care, the plan for one little girl didn't last long. We all decided we could handle taking in a sibling group. That's why in May of 2006, we received a call for a sibling group of three: two boys and a little girl. The number of kids in our house almost doubled. Eugene was 7, Thomas was 5, and little Dawn was 3. Her hair was blond, and her eyes were sky blue; and she was ours, along with the two of the cutest boys in the world.


I would be lying if I said everything was hunky-dorey and we lived happily ever after. At 12 and 10, Michael and I were still the eldest siblings, but Eugene was also used to being an eldest child. We had many clashes of the wills and still do at times. On top of it, his personality was the extreme opposite of anyone in our family. His fearless, outgoing, athletic personality caused our heads to spin. It didn't take us long to figure out why he had so many bruises up and down his shins. Everywhere he went it was, “Thumpity-thump! Crash! Bang!” We have since then concluded he has numerous guardian angels that work overtime.

Thomas was so cute and quiet everyone else thought he was an angel. They were so wrong. He was the orneriest bundle of cuteness to ever walk the face of the earth. If there was anything that could be said or done to push your buttons, he'd do it. For some reason, he also seemed to think he could fly. At least one of Eugene's guardian angels was always around.

Dawn was also cute and sweet, but she still had her struggles. At times she would wake up in the middle of the night, crying and croaking out “Jesus Loves Me.” Having been in foster care most her life, she didn't know what it was like to have a permanent family, yet she seemed to know that the big white house was to be her permanent home. One day she took Mom's face in her little hands and asked, “Mommy, will you pray to Jesus that I can stay here porever and ever?” And another time, “I looked for you and looked for you but I couldn't find you.” God had instilled in her heart that this was where she belonged, and we believed it too.

Many hardships we all faced during the next couple of years and continuing. It passed in a blur and I barely remember it. If anything is hard, it's extending those invisible bonds of love to those you know will not always return it. They may fight those bonds, in fear that if they love you back, someone will tear them away as before. God's grace was abundant during that time. He was our strength when our weary souls wanted to give up.

One unexpected encouragement was revealed to us through the form of the three siblings' great-grandmother. To our amazement, we discovered the third prayer that had been a part of God's plan. On one normal day of one average week, we received an unexpected card from “Grandma Bob.” Soon we discovered that she had been praying that her great-grandkids would find a good, Christian home. It wasn't long before we got to meet this wonderful lady, who showered us with gifts and love, as if we all were her great-grandchildren. As I write, I can see two gifts she gave to Amber and I. Both are little glass angels, sitting on our shelves, reminding us of her love and God's love. Though she has passed on now, our memory of her will never fully fade.

As my 10 turned to 15, and 15 to 17, I grew and stretched, both physically and spiritually. The whole family is not who they were, and the big white house has witnessed it all. With the Church moved to another building, it too, has undergone some serious remodeling, giving us room to spread out a little bit and invite our grandparents to come join the crazy family. Dawn and I are especially close. When we were younger, we would playfully call each other “Sissy” or “Goofball.” We still love to play “dress up” and create all sorts of goofy costumes. My brothers and I tease each other back and forth and often play board or card games together. Dinner time is always the best time of the day. Together our family laughs and jokes. Often conversations will lead to something about God or reflections on the past. By no means is our life perfect, but we enjoy the invisible bond of love that now tightly wraps around us all.

It may seem crazy to some, but our hearts are returning to thoughts of foster care again. Dawn and I would very much like to have another sister. Again we have started this foster care adventure with thoughts of taking in one girl, but who knows what God will bring our way? As I will be joining Michael at college in about another year, I only pray that it happens soon. The big white house still creaks and groans with our every move, but it still has empty spaces to be filled. Why not share them with someone in need of love?

Update:

I am pleased to announce that my family is in the process of adopting two more new siblings! Little Girl and Baby Boy will be officially a part of our family in about a week and a half. Yes, I said two. You would think that after our previous experience we would have learned never to go into the adoption process saying we want one little girl...because little girls always come with a brother or two :) This is where Ephesians 3:20-21 comes in. I asked for a sister, and what do I get? Two sisters and three more brothers!

God's Abundant Grace - (Grace's Testimony)

I've never felt like I had much of a story. Like Hope, I was a BUICK (brought up in Church kid), and on top of that, I was also a PK (preacher's kid). Never do I remember doubting or questioning how I had been brought up. I was content. It was my life, I knew nothing else. Around the age of 9 I began to recognize the burden of guilt. Miserable, sticky, sickening guilt that sits in the stomach like a dead weight. I knew what I needed to do with it, but I was afraid. Anything new, any sort of change, scared me half to death with worry. It wasn't that I didn't believe in Jesus. I already knew I wanted to live my whole life for Him. That wasn't what scared me at the time. No, it was the idea of baptism.

It sounds silly now, but you have to understand that all baptisms I had seen were done in front of a fairly large crowd of church family, and I hated, absolutely feared being "up front." Hope can probably tell you a story or two to prove my point. This fear, silly though it was, I dragged around for quite a while. It never faded, not in the least. Instead it grew, becoming heavier along with my guilt. My knowledge of what I needed to do also grew, until it practically drove me crazy every time there was an invitation at Church.

Finally, in early December one year, we had a guest speaker at Church. Of course, as guest speakers love to do, he gave an invitation at the end of his service each night. No, I did not move from my spot in the pew. I was frozen with fear, but that night at home in the kitchen, I remember breaking down into tears. My parents talked with me for a while, as they have done with all my siblings to make sure that we truly understood and were ready. I don't remember exactly what was said, but the next morning I was baptized. A few friends/Church family did come, but it was a small crowd. I can still vividly remember the purple shirt and blue pants I wore, Daddy asking me if I believed that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God, and the warm water lapping at my legs, but most clearly of all, I remember skipping down the isle afterwards. There aren't words that can describe the joy I felt, the feeling that my dirty insides had been scraped clean. My burden was gone. I was free!

But like Hope, it wasn't all uphill from there. I was only ten when I made my decision and had a lot of growing to do. As I grew out of my childlike faith and hit my teen years, I began to realize that God was calling me to do things I'd never done before. In other words, I recognized that if I was going to serve Jesus the rest of my life, I was going to have to step out of my comfort zone and do things I was afraid of. A mini war raged within my stubborn soul, leaving me longing for the peace. Thank God for His grace because time and time again I've fallen into this little war. Still there are days when I fight, but I'm learning. He's teaching me that He will always be there with me and give me the strength to do what must be done. And all those things I was afraid of? Well, I'm discovering they are not so scary after all.

The devil works hard. Fear is one of his sharpest tools, and doubt can slice just as deep. Perhaps it has something to do with my perfectionist nature, but there was also a time when I especially struggled with doubting my salvation. Did I miss a step? Was there something else I needed to do to give myself completely? I was confused. Extremely confused, and I didn't tell anyone for the longest time. This is still hard for me to write. Of course, I knew deep down that you can never earn your way to heaven, and that salvation is a pure gift of God's abundant grace, but it didn't stop my doubts. I wanted to base my faith on feelings.

Reflecting on this I'm reminded of Jeremiah 17:9: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?" (ESV) Sometimes I feel so hopeless. If the heart is deceitful, what other lies will I lead myself to believe? How many times will I fall down and have to be picked up only to fall down again? I have many favorite verses, but recently I have found great comfort in Psalm 73:26: "My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (ESV) I'm going to mess up, time and time again, but God, He is perfect. Through faith in His Son, I am healed. My sins are washed away and I have the hope of eternal life in heaven. This hope in God is the strength that will keep me going. "but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Isaiah 40:31 (NIV)

What Greater Calling? (Hope's testimony)

Alright since this whole idea of sharing our testimonies was my idea, I suppose I will start: (sorry it turned out rather long.)

Here is my testimony, as well as I can remember it. Some of it was long enough ago that I am sad to say my memory of it is a little hazy.

As my fellow authors know, I grew up in a Christian family.  The Bible was considered our standard for living and I do not remember a time that I did not believe every word it said. I had not, however, given my soul to it’s Author.

When I was ten my family and I moved to another state. Those first two or three years were the hardest I had ever known. I was lonely, I was confused why God would take me away from everything I loved but through it all there was one big plus. We got involved with the local college students and began a family tradition of sharing testimonies around the dinner table. I would hear these students stories, and be terrified someone would ask me if I was saved. (I had myself convinced I was but I never dared try to convince my parents). Then, once I got over the terror I began listening to their stories.  They were all so sure, while I, on the other hand, often wondered how I knew I was saved.

Eventually I got so worried I began to pray, “God, if I don’t know you, if I am not saved, please show me how to be!”

Then, one night, my Mom made me madder than I had ever been. She prayed, in my hearing, that if I wasn’t saved, that I would trust Jesus. I was unreasoningly furious. How could she doubt? But of course, why wouldn’t she? I had never claimed to know Jesus!

When my 11^th birthday came I was in a scared state of limbo. It passed, and life kept going on. Then one night, about a month later, I walked out of the bathroom and into the room I shared with my older sister. Now, my older sister has an unnerving way of staring into outer space…often at someone! Tonight I was that someone and it upset me.

“Stop staring at me like that!! I feel like you can see right through me.” I flopped down on our bed in disgust.

“Oh, I can!” She raised a teasing eye brow. “I can see right through you. I can see the wall on the other side!”

“No.” I sternly stopped her. “I meant my heart.”

Then I nearly fell off the bed. What had I just said? I just opened up a conversation,  of my own accord, about something that I view as my most private and secret possession—my heart!

My sister seemed surprise to but she kept a cool head. “What’s in there? Jesus?”

“Yes.” I choked and began to hurriedly fall into my pajamas.

I have a blurred memory of her asking me question, something about how someone could be saved. And she told me later I answered reasonably.

After a silent and uncomfortable moment I whispered, “Joy, I don’t think I am saved.”

She was by me in a moment and held me tight as I started crying. “Do you want to be?”

“Yes.” I  answered miserably.

“Do you want to pray and tell him that?”

“I don’t think I can.”

“Then I will.”

And she prayed, asking God to open my heart and teach me to trust him. I too prayed, but silently. And I knew, then, I had finally had the courage to give everything over to him, a God I couldn’t see, and trust that he would work things out for my good.

I was baptized the next night in our hot tub because that was the only warm water we could find. (It was early March and there was several inches of snow on the ground.)

Life did not get easy for me and I was still not learning my lesson in trust. When I was about thirteen I hit the rocks.

Faith asked me once, what caused my depression. I was never really sure what started it but I think it was mostly my loneliness. My brother had just moved out, I still had no friends to speak of, and life did not feel worth living. I didn’t know the nasty road depression would take me down so I didn’t fight it. I sat back and simply nursed my wounds.

I began to doubt God’s goodness and one question in particular looped through my brain.

Why did God put us on earth? We simply live, have hard sad lives and then die. What is the point? What does anything really matter?

I tucked up in side myself, pulled away from the cruel world and awaited my turn to die. Though I never considered suicide I remember crying and begging God to take me home.

Then my Grandma got cancer. I thought, so what? She’ll go through treatment, lose her hair and come out fine, just like she always has. Life moved on, and I sank further.

I turned fourteen that year. There was nothing about my birthday to remember. It went by in a black, unhappy blur.

During this time, I began to sleep a lot. Pretty much anytime I didn’t have to do something else. It was my way of removing the pain for a while. My family thought I was anemic (which is still possible though for other reasons). I was so closed, and always had been that they had no idea my ailments were simply mental/spiritual.  (It wasn’t actually until a few months ago that I finally told some of them). 

Then May came and I heard my Grandma had been life lighted to a big hospital because she had (I think) perforated bowels.

At that news I came partly back to life in a sort of panic. What if she died? What would life be like then? How would I feel? No one I new very closely had ever died before but this Grandma, was one of only two grandparents still living. What if she died?

My family made a scurried trip some eight hours to her bedside where my older brother and his family already were. She surprised us by being nearly as chipper as normal. After several days she seemed to be on the mend and we were going to go home. Then, about midnight while we were all sleeping at a hotel we received a call.

I’ll not go into details about what caused the call; I simply will say that she was dying.

The next morning was spent by her bedside or in whispered conferences in the waiting room. The ICU nurses were wonderful. They actually allowed my brother to bring in his not quite two year old son to say good bye. And they said nothing when we way exceeded the room limit of number of people they allowed.

During this time I kept myself well together and stayed by her as much as possible. She could not speak because she had a tube down her throat to keep her from suffocating but sometimes she would tap on the bed side and when I brought an empty notebook she would take a pen and write notes.

I lost it then (and just now) when she wrote what she wanted done at her funeral. Her hand writing was bad because I was shaking the notepad.

Finally, when all the family was there her throat tube was removed.

All my life my family has sung together. Not as a performance but just for fun. There were many scripture songs that we all had memorized and I don’t know why but then, as we were all standing around and waiting for her to die we started singing. She asked for the notebook and when someone held it up she wrote, “On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand”. So we sang that.  Then “It is Well”. And another which I no longer remember. When we paused she took the notebook and wrote again, “I want the S--- family (mine) to sing these songs at my funeral.”

Then she wrote one more thing, “I’ll see you all in heaven.”

We sang “It is Well” as she passed into heaven. I cried more then, than I have in all my other cries put together.

I saw, in her death, that she gave glory to God for everything. Everything! And I cried out all my bitterness, all my doubts and that afternoon I learned why God had put us here, on earth.

To bring Him glory.

What greater calling could I ask for?

Of course there have been other bumps and humps since then but my Savior is good. He has never let me down though I have broken His heart more times than I can count.

Greatings of the New Year!

Lucy Pevensie

You are Lucy Pevensie a.k.a Queen Lucy of Narnia! You are willing, caring, and above all valiant! Most of the time you try handling big things by yourself but sometimes that's good because your proving to your elders that you are big enough to handle things yourself.. Most of the time..

Since you can't read the picture very well I will type it out: I am Sir Andrew, brave, trustworthy, and fiercely loyal. My friends are everything. I love having fun and a good adventure.

Elinor Dashwood!You are Elinor Dashwood of Sense & Sensibility! You are practical, circumspect, and discreet. Though you are tremendously sensible and allow your head to rule, you have a deep, emotional side that few people often see.

I took a quiz once that told me I was Mycroft Holmes from the Sherlock Holmes books. Embarrassing as it is I think it is rather true. I tend to be smart, but very lazy with my knowledge, rarely putting it to use.

You are Robert, Earl of Grantham. Honest and old-fashioned, you’re primarily motivated by honor and duty. You’re so honorable, you’re actually willing to let a virtual stranger inherit all your worldly goods rather than risk breaking up your family’s legacy. Some people might call you a stick in the mud, but you can be extremely generous and forgiving toward those you feel have earned your loyalty

Radagast the Brown: You love things that grow and enjoy the company of animals more than that of other people. There is great wisdom in you but you have problems conveying that to others.

I'll admit I was rather taken back by the last one... isn't it funny though?

My New Year's writing goals are pretty simple, but not very easy. I want to get more faithful about thoroughly editing (a thing I absolutely hate!), work on my dialog, and prevent my stories from falling so flat in the middle.

An interview with Hope

All right, I finally filled out my own interview--yes, I interviewed myself...anyway, here are the results!



What is your name/blog name?
Hope

How long have you been part of LARK?

L.A.R.K. is my brainchild...so I have been part of it since before it existed.

Do you have any other blogs besides LARK that you would like to share with us?

Well, I have one, www.themodpodgeblog.blogspot.com , but unless you like crafts and especially Mod Podge you most likely won't find it very interesting.

Tell us about yourself—
I'm generally supposed to be anti-social but in real life I am simply like Elinor Dashwood(thank you Jane Austin for impersonating me when you wrote created Miss Dashwood!) --I prefer well educated, sensible society and that is hard to find! 

The most important thing in life to me is my Savior, Jesus. I love my family of two parents, one sister, two brothers, one sister-in-law, and two nephews, and I am never happier than reading a book with an animal next to me. I am very proud of my Scottish heritage (Free Scotland 2014!!!); have a strong affinity to anything history related; and am always in pursuit of something new to keep my mind occupied. On top of all this, I am generally considered a boring person by any who do not know me very well.

What are some of your interests?

I'm afraid I'm a bit too much like Emma Woodhouse in this case (thank you again Jane Austin!). I have many things that catch my interest but none that I am proficient at. First and foremost would of course be reading. Then, history, writing, photography, anything having to do with animals, crafts, fencing (sword fighting), archery, anything Scottish or Celtic, music, piano, violin, costumes,...and the list goes on.

Do you have a personal hero (Other than Jesus.)?

This is a hard one for me.There are many people that I admire for certain qualities but coming up with someone that I would want to imitate in many ways is very hard. Probably Stephen, from Acts 6 and 7. Ron Paul is another person that I greatly admire.

What is your favorite reading genre?

Historical Fiction without a doubt!

Who is your favorite author?

Oh my, what a hard question I asked myself...probably Charles Dickens though Sir Walter Scott, George MacDonald, Lois Lowry, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Baroness Emma Orczy would all be crowding him.

What is your top favorite book (only one book!)?

Hands down To Kill a Mocking Bird. I have never read better than that!

Do you have any inspiration to get published?

To me publishing has always been a nice little idea floating around in the back of my head for if I ever am in bad need of some money. I like the idea of writing books, and having them read by more than my immediate friends who I chose to email them to, however the hassle of actually getting them published, publicized and completely changed by the modern industry makes me shy away.

Are you currently writing a book or books? If so, would you like to tell us a little about them?

I have had numerous idea's floating around in my head, some of them for years, but I only ever gotten about 1/4 of the way through writing one. I stopped because I was getting writers cramp...yes, it was all hand written. It is called The Iron and centers around the mysterious figure head of a fictitious revolution whose  symbol resembles a old fashioned clothing iron. The book is from the eyes of a member of The Iron Circle (the brain of the revolution), Jeremiah (Jem) Partington, and is an account of the second attempt at a revolt, lead by The Iron, in this fictitious country. As the book progresses, Jem starts discovering some things about the leader's hidden past that raise questions for his potentially bitter future.

An interview with Josie

What is your name?
Josie

How long have you been part of LARK?
 Since September, 2012 (8 months)

Do you have any other blogs besides LARK that you would like to share with us?
 A blog my sister and I write on: chewinthecuddebate.blogspot.com

Okay Josie, tell us about yourself---
 I'm currently an Agronomy student at Kansas State University, just finished up my first year.  I work for Crop Quest, a crop consulting company, during the summer and enjoy it greatly!  

I'm blessed to have been raised by a godly family who love the Lord!  I'm the youngest of five girls and have two brothers-in-law and a nephew and a niece!  I was homeschooled my whole life up until college and am incredibly grateful that my parents made the decision to homeschool!  =D 

What are some of your interests?

 I love to read and write, climb trees, ride horses, play with my nephew and niece (somebody should come up with a word that combines the two so you can group them together!), spend time with my family, be crazy, draw sometimes, have spelling bees, and the list goes on!  =)

Do you have a personal hero (Other than Jesus.)?

 Hmmm... that's a hard one!  Probably one of them is Job from the Bible; he still believed and trusted God even while going through intense adversity!

What is your favorite reading genre?

 Autobiographies, sometimes mystery/thrillers depending on the author.

Who is your favorite author?

 Probably Bill Bright and Jack Cavanaugh.  They wrote the Great Awakening series.

What is your top favorite book (besides the Bible since I think we would all put that)?

 Fire by Bill Bright and Jack Cavanaugh

Do you have any inspiration to get published?

 I have always dreamed of being an author!  I think it would be so neat.

Are you currently writing a book or books? If so, would you like to tell us a little about them?

 I'm not currently writing a book.  However, last semester I wrote a story that got published in a small department booklet.

Is there anything else you would like to tell us?

 nope.

An interview with Grace

What is your name/blog name?
You can call me Grace :)

How long have you been part of LARK?

I believe about as long as it's been existing. It will be a year in August.

Do you have any other blogs besides LARK that you would like to share with us?

We Are Windows and Simply Sweet Suggestions are my two blogs. We Are Windows is more of a devotional or journal like blog. I've posted a lot of poetry and short stories there also. Simply Sweet Suggestions is my cake blog. I love to decorate cakes, so I post a lot of fun pictures over there.

Tell us about yourself—

I'm from a large family – five brothers and one sister to be exact. Despite all the brothers, I tend to be pretty shy when it comes to social situations, but among those I know really well I can be a different person. Most of the time I prefer to stay at home with my family and dream up exciting stories. 
 

What are some of your interests?

I love reading, writing, cake decorating, some drawing and photography, teaching preschoolers, and singing. In the past I also enjoyed some piano and swim team. 
 

Do you have a personal hero (Other than Jesus.)?

My personal hero is probably my Mom or one of my Grandmas. I admire their faith and the way they raised(or are still raising) up their children to love the Lord. 
 

What is your favorite reading genre?

I love fantasy, and it is also what I love writing most.

Who is your favorite author?

Oh dear, I'm not sure whether or not I can choose between Bryan Davis, Jill Williamson, and Andrew Peterson. I'll just say Bryan Davis.

What is your top favorite book ?

Hmmm...probably Raising Dragons by Bryan Davis, but I love the whole Dragons in Our Midst series!

Do you have any inspiration to get published?

I would love to publish a book someday! It's my favorite dream.

Are you currently writing a book or books? If so, would you like to tell us a little about them?

Currently I have a couple main books floating around in my head. One is a twist off of Joseph's story in the Bible. Except instead of twelve brothers, they are twelve sisters. I've started writing it, but I'm not sure if I'll ever publish it. Maybe someday. The main book I would like to publish is one that's been evolving in my head since I was around eleven. It's changed drastically since then. I've started writing it multiple times, but then a major part of it will change. Then I start all over again. Mainly, though, the book will be about seven orphans. Michael the eldest, harbors a bitter anger towards his dead parents who abandoned the children and left them without an explanation for the humiliating difference between them and the rest of humankind. When a key to the puzzle finally clicks into place, Michael is determined to let nothing stop him from finding the rest of the missing pieces and recover what rightfully belongs to him and his siblings. 
 

An interview with Faith

So I decided I (Hope) would interview all of the LARK authors, including myself. The answers that came back were diverse and interesting. This one was the one that surprised me the most simply because she was stingy with her words! :) I'm just teasing you Faith! Thanks for doing this interview!


What is your name/blog name?
Faith

How long have you been part of LARK? 
Since it started.

Do you have any other blogs besides LARK that you would like to share with us? 
No.

Tell us about yourself—(as much or as little information about whatever you want!) 
I'm a fun lovin person who loves people and Jesus.

What are some of your interests?

Writing, photography, playing the piano, and socializing.

Do you have a personal hero (Other than Jesus.)?

Amy Carmichael.

What is your favorite reading genre?

 Suspenseful fiction.

Who is your favorite author?

 Dee Henderson

What is your top favorite book (besides the Bible since I think we would all put that)? (only one book!)

 The O'Malley Chronicles.

Do you have any inspiration to get published?

No.

Is there anything else you would like to tell us?
No.