What's Driving You?

     All of us are divinely purposed to fulfill a roll on this earth.  We know this early in life, but our experiences cause us to either nurture this purpose or drown it.  There are many things that cause our purpose to suffocate: fear, lack of confidence, shame or the sin of busyness. America has a distorted truth about being busy.  Busyness may propel us in tackling that long to-do list, but it can also prevent us from accomplishing the very thing we were put on earth to do.  

     I have been guilty of falling into the trap of busyness by allowing others  to overbook me and by overextending myself.  Sometimes my list is so long that I feel paralyzed in what to tackle first.  I have found a way to combat busyness. No it's not some new aged concoction.  It's by simply praying and listening.  Before I start my day, I must pray. Every morning I extend an invitation to the Father, Son and Holy Spirit to join me.   With this Holy Trio, my day becomes smoother and less hectic.  I am able to prioritize what has to be done, what I'd like to get done and what is unnecessary.  

     Today I sent a message on Facebook that I finally had a day free of chauffeuring and errand running.  I really didn't know what to do to fill my day.  So having opened my day with prayer, I was at peace with not being so busy.  I wandered around the house for a while and the feeling of unproductive-ness tried to creep in. I finally settled down and as a result, I received a wonderful revelation from God.  God speaks to us all when we slow down and give him some uninterrupted time. 

     Remember to pursue your God-given assignment and don't let busyness or anything else stand in your way.

Be blessed,

-Terri 

Breathe for Me (Meet Maggie )

Valentines Day is quickly approaching. This holiday can be celebrated in so many different ways.  Here are a few non-traditional ideas: 

Bring a basket of trinkets to a childrens hospital in your community.

Surprise the overlooked office administrators at your child's school by bringing them lunch.

Visit a senior's home and let your little future actor/actress read them poems. 

Bring some old coats (fill the pockets with hard candy) to a local woman/children shelter.

Make a canteen of hot chocolate and give it to your child's crossing guard.

Breathe for Me is finally getting some traction and I would like to thank you all for continuing to inquire about its availability.  All I can say is soon.  But until then here is a new excerpt.  Meet Maggie. She is a character indeed. 

Excerpt from novel Breathe for Me

Tara and Maggie strolled through the men’s department at the Wal-Mart. 

“We gone find you a daddy today, so keep smiling and don’t mess up that hair that took me an hour to do.”

Maggie stuffed her own shoes deeper inside her purse and tried to balance herself in the brand new fancy shoes she had just borrowed from the ladies’ shoe department.  She also borrowed a fancy coat and the most expensive looking pair of earrings she could find.  As soon as she found her a potential husband, she would be sure to put almost everything back in its original place.

“Excuse me?” Maggie said as she batted her ice-blue colored eyelids, courtesy of the sample eye shadow palate in the beauty department.

“Yes, Ma’am.” A tall good looking fair skinned man answered.

“My daughter wants to send this jacket to her daddy, we’re divorced, and she wants to see how it looks on you.  You have the same gorgeous body as him.”

The man smiled, flattered by this tired phrase Tara had heard dozens of times before.

She had reeled in another one.  Maggie’s promise to buy her school clothes was trumped by the capture of another pervert. As they were leaving the store, Maggie tucked the man’s phone number in her purse.

“Momma, where’s my real dad?” Tara hesitantly asked.

Maggie walked on, ignoring Tara’s question.

“You tell me he’s gone, but what happened?  Does he know about me? Does he even care? Did you meet him at the Wal-Mart too?”  Tara stopped walking and Maggie jerked her arm pulling her across the street toward the bus stop.”

“Girl, you better come on.  I don’t have time to explain nothin’ to your little ungrateful self.  I’m the only one you got.  So stop talkin’ to me about all this daddy crap. You ain’t got no father.”

*****

The bus stopped at the corner of Hester Avenue. Maggie and Tara trudged down the unpaved street, stopping in front of a brick multi-family apartment dwelling.  Maggie unlocked and entered the first floor level of their apartment and emptied the contents of her overstuffed pockets onto the kitchen counter. 

“Go on girl, put that stuff away,” Maggie sniped.

Tara entered the kitchen, stumbling over the same half tied trash bag that lay in the hallway from that morning. Maggie hurried into her bedroom, dropping her coat on the tattered tweed sofa along the way. 

“You see my lighter out there,” Maggie yelled.

Tara spotted the lighter next to the yellow tinged toaster oven that hadn’t worked in years. She brought it to her mother.

Maggie pursed her lips, inhaling as she lit the cigarette. Tara hated the smell of smoke. Her third grade teacher, Mrs. Sanchez warned the kids about the dangers of second hand smoke.  Tara was disgusted by the thick and cloudy film that it left on every living and nonliving thing nearby.  Blowing in and blowing out. It served no purpose except to deprive her of at least two days worth of meals. There was very little money to go around as it was, yet a mound of cigarette butts filled Maggie’s nightstand consistently.

 “Well, those people found me another place to work, so you gonna be by yourself tonight.” Maggie buttoned up the burgundy uniform shirt that read “Fry Daddy” on the pocket. She slipped on the matching pants and hurried back to the front room.

“I’ll be fine,” Tara convinced herself.

“My legs gonna’ be sore tomorrow, so you gonna’ have to take care of that laundry.” Maggie twisted her wig into position as she walked to the door.

“I will, momma,” Tara said unsurprised by this request.

“Okay, I’m a get goin’. You know those people don’t like me being late. You ain’t got school tomorrow, but keep yourself in da’ house,” Maggie reminded Tara. “I don’t want no police showing up on my door like they just did wit’ O.J.”

“Okay,” Tara sullenly answered.

“I get off at eleven and they should have plenty chicken left over so I’ll bring extra if I can.”

“Bye, momma.”

Maggie’s promise to Tara was as firm as the watered down Jell-O that sat in their empty refrigerator. The thought of not having dinner that night didn’t faze Tara. But the impracticality of fending for herself for the next two days was distressing. 

Thanks and I hope you enjoyed this month's blog

Terri Whitmire

What's your book about?

When I finally muster up the courage to tell family, friends and acquaintances that I have a book coming out,  the very next question is "What's it about?".  It took me a long time to figure out how to tell enough about the book to keep the interest up but to not give too much of it away.  Listed below is the book write up that will explain the premise behind it.  Let me know what you think.

I appreciate your coming to this blog site and staying interested in this long journey to publishing a book.  I pray your 2011 will be one filled with happiness, peace and joy.

-Stay Blessed
Terri Whitmire

****************

 

Tara Fowler is drowning in a world full of fear and neglect.  This story follows her as she grows up in a home where her alcoholic mother takes pleasure in poisoning every aspect of her life. She learns to navigate this unremitting shame and finally breaks free.

Now it is up to her to create a new path for herself. Marcus enters her life just in time, a college friend who somehow penetrates her walls of isolation. Her desire to live out the ideal life with the man of her dreams becomes threatened when her mother resurfaces, sending her back into her bubble of despair. Then a devastating and unconscionable act is perpetrated and the foundation of her perfect life inevitably begins to crumble.

This story’s suspenseful opening will keep you guessing as Tara attempts to regain control of her life and somehow mend the brokenness.  Her journey to wholeness requires her to finally unlock the secrets that threaten her marriage and her sanity allowing her to finally breathe again.
This is a contemporary story about redemption, forgiveness and the abundance of grace that God provides to us every day.

Breathe for Me -Excerpt 2

Have you ever noticed that sometimes things seem one way but turn out to be something totally different? This book has brought on a lot of wonderful speculation.  But believe you me, there are so many twist and turns in this book, that each chapter is sure to keep you guessing. I thank God for the imaginative mind He has given me.  I'm sure my husband wouldn't always agree that this is a blessing (lol), but for the purposes of creating a page turning novel, I am grateful.  I am actively searching for a publisher or literary agent willing to take on a newcomer. My prayer is that it reaches the right ears and the right heart.

So you know something about Tara from the previous blog, here is a small excerpt about Marcus. Let me know your thoughts below. Please reference "Excerpt 2".

Stay Blessed,

~Terri Whitmire

Marcus approached the front of the room with applause.  He grabbed the cordless microphone from the podium and moved nearer to his teenage congregation. He wanted to get as close as possible to them.

“My young brothers and sisters I want you to know that God loves you. No matter what's going on in your life. We are more than conquerors.”

A couple teens yelled out “yeah”, while others cheered. He continued on.

“There is nothing too hard for my God. Many of you are struggling with your school life, your home life and your unsaved friends. You are not alone. I have some of the same struggles. I know I don’t look like your typical saved teenager. I’m not a bible thumping, straight laced teenager. When you see me on the basketball court, I look like one of the fellas. But inside I have the spirit of truth.”

He strolled up and down the isles hoping to maintain their attention. His relaxed look already had a few of the younger girls giggling and whispering. He drew their attention back to where it should be, on God.

“I know what God has in store for me. I know what He promised me. He has that same promise for you.”

He stood inches away from the first row. He wasn’t sure how well his story would go over.

“My Mom and Dad went through some tough times with us. It was really strict in my house, or so I thought. So when I got a little older I decided that I was gonna do me. How many of you really know it was just childhood rebellion? I was hanging with the wrong people and they decided it would be fun to sneak into a club. Of course we were all under-aged, around fifteen. The club was hot, the ladies were everywhere. So we showed them our fake ID’s, paid our twenty dollars and went in. It wasn’t the first time we got into a club. But this time the devil had a plan for me. We were in there and we were partying. The music was pumping and the drinks were everywhere. We had only been there for an hour when gun shots rang out. People ran everywhere; getting knocked down, cut up and run over. All but one of the emergency exit doors was open, the rest were chained shut. I guess they didn’t want people sneaking in; bad idea. Bodies were pinned up against those doors with no way to get out. You could here them gasping for air, faces sweaty and flushed. Can you imagine lying on the bottom of a grimy sticky floor suffocating? That's a horrible death. Those cute little votive candles on the tables flew up against the red velvet drapes and the place became an instant inferno. I will never get the smell of burning flesh out of my nostrils. I was one of the lucky ones.”

Marcus pulled up his shirt sleeve to reveal a gun shot wound.

First Look

Hi:


I am the author of the new book Breathe for Me.  I can't tell you how excited I am to be able to share my first excerpt from the book.  This project was placed on my heart years ago but of course life happened.  However, I can honestly say that I needed those years to grow and mature so that I could produce the wonderful story that God intended for me to deliver. It is by His power alone that I am able to come this far. Now I am thrilled to see that it has finally come to life.   If you have a second, review it and let me know what you think by adding your comments at the very bottom.  


Love ya and stay blessed.
~Terri Whitmire

Chapter 1

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. This can’t be happening.

Tara’s sheets lay crumpled at the bottom of their bed. A plump untouched pillow lay next to hers, ushering her back to the realization that she was yet again alone. She steadied her legs and defiantly marched herself into the bathroom; there was no time for self pity. The cool water hit Tara’s face with an unfulfilled promise of restoring her focus. She continued to navigate the water across her forehead, cheekbones and lips paying special attention to the dried up tears that sat in the creases of her eyes. As she patted her face dry, a blurry reflection glared back from the mirror. She tugged on her eyes. They told the story of an unsettling nights sleep. Tara grabbed her toothbrush and vigorously brushed forgetting to even apply toothpaste. Her face was void of any color, the life… her life had been drained out of her. No amount of personal grooming could fix the sorrow she felt. She wondered what it was about her that made people want to leave.

Rushing back to their otherwise meticulous bedroom, she jerked open the top dresser drawer almost toppling over their five-by-seven-framed picture; taken during happier times. As the tears began to well up, Tara’s vision began to blur. Focus, she had to focus. She was determined to quickly find something to wear; something that hid the pain and covered the scars of a lifetime of abandonment. She pulled open the bottom drawer rumbling through two piles of worn out sweatpants until finally settling on her grey Nike sweat suit.

Tara pulled her hair into a pony-tail, slid her feet into her white laced Reeboks and headed downstairs. Tears like these hadn’t made an appearance for some time but now they were back with a vengeance.

Tara's eyes darted from the kitchen table across the counters and finally to the front door, where she spotted her keys still hanging in the lock. Two lefts and a right turn on Livingston Road and she would be at Fort Washington Hospital. The uncertainty of what she would find when she got there was terrifying.