Book Release Giveaway!!
In celebration of the ebook release of The Foolish Princess, I'm giving away one kindle copy of "Life in a Medieval Castle" by Brenda Ralph Lewis! To enter, just leave a comment on this post with your name and let me know you'd like to be entered in the drawing. Winner will be chosen randomly by RandomResult.com. Winner will be announced here, and on my facebook page on Monday Night!
Be sure to check out my new release! Click the picture to view on Amazon.
Civil War Party
The second book of Moses continues the story of God’s chosen nation. We can still see the style set forth in Genesis, but Exodus adds a certain degree of difficulty as it contains a lot of law. How does Moses hold the attention of the reader?
Holding Reader’s Attention
1) Peak their interest before the long discourse.
The writer does a magnificent job at building the story to a point, he peaks the reader’s interest before diving into the lengthy explanation of laws. He could have compiled a book of only laws & ordinances, but few people would ever read that. So instead he brings us up to the mountain top with Moses where no other man could go lest he be slain; a mountain shaking with thunder and billowing smoke. The readers fear for Moses’ life as he ascends the mount to face a holy God. And only after we understand the great power of God do we hear His voice giving Moses the Ten Commandments and laws for the people.
2) Intermingling Laws with Stories
After the Lord finishes giving His commands to Moses, we are instantly taken back to the story and the rebellious children of Israel. Another enthralling story is the reader’s reward for hearing the commands of the Lord. This is the first time that we are really aware of the righteousness that God requires of His people. And we see the Israelites fail again and again as God passes judgment on them, and then offers grace when they humble themselves and call upon the Lord.
This is the best kind of story. A story that is not only interesting, filled with action, adventure, good vs. evil; but it also shows us that God is holy and requires the same of us, yet not neglecting to leave the Jews a roadmap of how to get there. This should serve as a model to all Christian Authors as to what a good story really is.
A blog that I am subscribed to, the Seekers, put up a post yesterday about writing romance and having descriptions of your characters. You can read the article Here. After reading that, I couldn't help but comment on a great error that I see so many "Christian" authors making. Now whether or not we should write Christian Romance at all is debatable, but definitely cation is required.
As I was talking to my mother about the topic, she mentioned Song of Solomon and how it contains vivid descriptions of love, but nothing that inspires lust in it's readers. I think that is worth study if you intend to read, or write romance.
Anyway, I wanted to share my thoughts in reply to this post.
I am only a beginning author, but I also intend to write according to the Scriptures if I am to call myself a Christian author, and if I may be so bold, I think you are missing something here.
It's definitely true that men are physical when it comes to romance, and that they struggle with lust. But they too love more in women then just looks. When we read through the Scripture (which should be our example of great storytelling) even in the love stories such as Ruth and Boaz, Esther and Xerxes (which was pretty much completely a physical attraction) we don't see Boaz lusting after Ruth in a detailed description of her curves, we don't see Rebecca, at falling in love with Isaac at first sight, swooning over his chest hair.
As Christian authors we need to be very careful of what we are putting into our writing. Is it honoring to Christ? Are we inspiring our readers to lust? Men think in pictures, so when they read a detailed description of a low cut top, what are they going to think of? A low cut top they've seen on someone. I can't do that to my brothers in Christ. It's enough of a battle for them already without me encouraging it. Also, the heroes in our stories should be fighting against lust, not giving into it.
Now there are ways to describe a beautiful woman without the lust, you can describe her hair, her eyes, her femininity, and say she is beautiful, but to describe her body parts should be offensive in Christian writing. I know it is to me.
As for the men, we are less attracted to looks as we are to chivalry, strength, leadership, a nice smile and manliness. You can tell the reader the man has a handsome face and describe that, and his character, but that should be enough for women.
All I am asking, is that we prayerfully consider our romantic descriptions remembering that we will have to account for every word we write, every word our readers read. Do we present a stumbling block? Are we causing our readers to have sinful thoughts?
Rebecca wondered if this wonderful man that Eliazer had described to her was really...real. Since she had reached womanhood she had been praying for a man who feared Jehovah more than man, who would work hard, provide for a family.
As the camel's stride rocked her back and forth she thought of all that Eliazer had told her, how this man named Isaac was a wise prince, how he loved, cherished and honored his mother, admired his father. He had told her how Isaac had extended a strong, compassionate arm to a slave girl on the brink of death.
"How can this be?" Rebecca thought to herself. "I feel I am on the cusp of falling in love, and I've never even met the man." She shook her head at herself. "Are we nearly there yet, Eleazer?"
"Look in the field yonder, sweet girl, the man approaching us is your betrothed."
Rebecca raised her green eyes to the golden plain ahead and her breath caught in her throat. With a strong stride Isaac was approaching them, and she could see, even from this distance, that he was not like other men. His clothes were rich, but not flaunting. His step was confident, but not prideful. He was smiling, and in that smile was something that captivated her. It was not a smile like most men smiled at her, no, he was not thinking of what he could gain. He was thinking of what he could give.
Rebecca's heart drummed in her chest as she lightly jumped off her camel and with shaky hands put on her veil. A man like this deserved a woman of character, and she wanted to show Isaac that she was.
As he drew close and took her hand in greeting, she looked deep into those handsome, brown eyes and knew. This was love. Not a girlish love like she'd seen in so many of her friends, but something deeper. A love orchestrated by God.
Every writer has a unique way of expressing themselves. This is called their ‘style’ or ‘voice’. In Genesis & Exodus we hear a masterful storyteller who gives us many brief stories that are really just overviews, yet are descriptive and fascinating.
I love the way the personalities of the characters shine through as the story unfolds! For example, in chapter 19 verses 17-19, Lot is being led away from the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah by two angels of the Lord. They have told him to flee to the mountains, but here Lot begins negotiating with them.
18 And Lot said unto them, “Oh, not so, my LORD”
19 “Behold now, thy servant hath found grace in thy sight, and thou hast magnified thy mercy, which thou hast shewed unto me in saving my life; and I cannot escape to the mountain, lest some evil take me, and I die:”
20 “Behold now, this city is near to flee unto, and it is a little one: Oh, let me escape thither, (is it not a little one?) and my soul shall live.”
“Is it not a little one?” Lot mentions for the second time. You can see that Lot is afraid of the wilderness (which probably contributed to his staying so close to the wicked cities) and he is pleading and persuading the angels of the Lord. This brings Lot alive in our minds, makes him truly ‘human’ and interesting.
2) Use of Dialog
Genesis is mainly composed of dialog between characters with as little narration as possible. I prefer this style as I think it is more interesting and gives more of a feel for the characters. Here is an example from Genesis 22:1-8.
1 And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him, “Abraham” and he said, “Behold, here I am.”
2 And he said, “Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.”
3 And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him.
4 Then on the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes, and saw the place afar off.
5 And Abraham said unto his young men, “Abide ye here with the ass; and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you.”
6 And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand, and a knife; and they went both of them together.
7 And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, “My father” and he said, “Here am I, my son.” And he said, “Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?”
8 And Abraham said, “My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering” so they went both of them together.
3) Use of Dialog to convey emotions.
Also in the verses above, notice that Isaac calls Abraham “My Father” to which Abraham replies “Here am I, my son.” With phrases like this we can see how close Abraham and Isaac are. These types of terms of endearment and emotion tug at the heart strings as Abraham is about to sacrifice his only, beloved son. It makes for a beautiful story.
My favorite thing about the Bible is that it holds great stories that are absolutely true. Not just “based on a true story” but the real thing put together in a fascinating, beautiful narrative.
Genesis holds some of the greatest stories in all of history, from the beginning of time, to the beloved story of Joseph and his Brothers. There is much we can learn from the studying of God’s Word.
I hope that this has encouraged you, to look at the Bible in a new light. It’s so much more than just a story, history or even spiritual guidance.
Next week we’ll talk about Exodus, also a book of Moses.
The Bible is the best piece of literature ever written. 40 authors writing down the mind and words of God without a single contradiction. It has had a resounding impact throughout all cultures, in thousands of different languages, and over thousands of years. So in my study of writing, English and story-telling, I figured this would be a great place to start.
At least 21 of the 39 books of the Old Testament are stories. That's more than 50%! And the first 5 books of the New Testament are stories as well and there are many more mixed in with the epistles.
During the course of this study, I'll be outlining the different books of the Bible, one by one, and bringing to light the things I'm learning about writing, story-telling etc. I'm hoping to have a post every week, but forgive me if I miss a few, I do lead a very busy lifestyle. :)
Stay Tuned for more!
Article - A Father's Joy
A Father's Joy
By Amber Schamel
I was in the hospital nursery the other night when a nurse came in followed by a new father holding a small bundle in his arms. I could not help but watch as one of those small everyday miracles occurred.
The nurse unwrapped the child and set it beneath the warming light. The father sat down in a chair next to the little bed and stared at his newborn son. Even I, as a spectator could feel the awe that this new father felt as he looked upon his child. There was something in his face, something he had not known before tonight. Ever so gently, he placed his finger inside of the little hand. It was as if this small little creature, harmless as it may be, had cast a spell upon this large man. Before long, soft sniffling sounds came from his corner of the room as gentle tears trickled down his cheeks. He sat there for several minutes in silence, so many emotions running through his young mind. He felt responsibility he had not felt before; he felt a love he had never before experienced. This small little baby, who seems to anyone else no different than any of the other babies in the nursery, means the world to him now. You can see it in his face, that mysterious glow that says “I would give my life for this little one.”
As if he had completely forgotten about the outside world for a moment, the father suddenly came back to himself and pulled out his cell phone and the awaited announcement was made to all the world “I have a son!”
Watching this all unfold gave me a warm feeling in my heart. Tears nearly came into my eyes as I watched the indescribable joy of a father over his newborn child. For it is a beautiful parable of Christ’s love for us. The same type of miracle takes place in heaven as the Father looks down upon a newborn Child of God. The same joy and love, gentleness and care, provision and protection are all given to the child. There may be days where the Father must chastise the son, but it is out of His unspeakable love that this chastisement comes. The cross stands as an everlasting proclamation, resounding through the heavens and earth, “This is My child, and so great is My love that I will give My own life for theirs.” To think that the Lord of the Universe could have such a love for us is more than my human mind can comprehend.
In honor of my new little brother and sister, here is an old favorite that I was reminded of this week. :)
When Life Gets Stinky
By Amber D. Schamel
Of course we've all heard about every little thing that can go wrong in changinga diaper, but have you ever heard of the struggle of throwing them away?
Growing up in a family of eleven children, I have changed many diapers in my career. But until that fateful night on Sept. 25, 2007, I never thought disposing of the diaper could be so difficult.
My family has one of those nifty little Diaper Genie canisters that are supposed to keep the smell down, and has those special little bags you buy for them. Little did I know, changing the canister, would be a nightmare!
There I was, about to change my little brother's diaper when I realized Ben (my younger brother) hadn't taken care of the last one he had changed. But as we tried to push it down into the can, it wouldn't budge. "Of course," I thought, "it's full. All we do is simply empty it." The problem was, my mother was out of town and I didn't know how to do it. "It can't be that hard. I can figure it out." I was thinking while I tried to remember how mom had done it. I now understand the importance of Titus 2:3-4 which instructs the older women to teach the younger women!
First I tried unsuccessfully to cut the endless bags so I could take out the ones being used. I did finally get them cut, but that was only the beginning of my tussle. After that, I proceeded to pull the dirty bags up out of the canister. I hadn't realized how many diapers can fit into such a small can!! As I pulled diaper after diaper after diaper out the canister, Ben began to laugh hysterically at me. That's when Josiah began yelling "Amba, boo-poo! Boo-poo!" When I finally got to the last one, someonehad put more than one diaper in before twisting the bag to keep them all in a row. The last pair was stuck and wouldn't come out! That's when I noticed the latch on the bottom of the pail. "I think you’re supposed to take them out through the bottom" Ben managed through his laughter. I opened the bottom and peered in. BIG MISTAKE! I recoiled at the overpowering smell that met my nose.
After recovering from the suffocating gas, I then began stuffing all of the diapers back into the can. With that done, I pulled all of the diapers out of the bottom this time, and thought that I was finally almost done. Wrong again. During my struggle getting the diapers out, the canister had somehowdisassembled itself. Now I had to figure out how to put the thing back together!
I started by latching the bottom, and then tried to put the top part back together. You see there was this little white thing that is supposed to fit into this other little white collar thing and then is covered by the green little bags. (It didn't make sense to me either!) There, all done. I put the diapers that had fallen out of the used bags during the struggle into the canister, and began to twist. But the thing kept unraveling!
That's easy to fix," I thought. "I'll just smash a little piece of the bag in between the latch and that will hold it still so that I can twist the little white thingy with no problem."
Once again battling the baby-gas-chamber, I began to pull the bag downward so I could fix the problem. AGAIN another problem arose! The bag wouldn't come down! I opened the top again. "This doesn't look right. I must have done it wrong." I said to Ben, [who be the way was still laughing at me and calling the (almost) endless string of diapers ‘sausages popping out of a machine!’]
So I once again took the silly thing apart and tried again.
After fighting with the diaper canister for thirty minutes (Three-Zero, 30 minutes of my precious life!!!!) I finally managed to get it right. "I am the champion!" I thought to myself. "Wait, of what? The diaper canister?!" By now I was laughing at myself almost as hard as Ben was. “Boy, I sure feel like an idiot now.”
So if all things have a reason, and a lesson... what is the lesson here?
I am reminded of Romans 8:28 " And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose." Even if life gets messy and very stinky, in the end, we win. Because Jesus already played the game, already bore our struggles, and already won the victory. We are truly champions in life because our Champion paid the price.
Thank you Lord, for using stinky diapers to strengthen and encourage me!
© 2007 Amber D. Schamel
Short Story The Warmth of the Son
The Warmth of the Son
By Amber D. Schamel
He sat there, leaning against the side of a hard, cold concrete building. His teeth chattered as he rubbed his hands together feebly trying to warm them. His tattered clothes offered little warmth in the dampness of the morning. He hugged his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth. He glanced up at the building towering over him and wondered how much longer until the sun would rise. A newspaper blew across the Chicago Street and somewhere, a dog howled. His rigid face tried to smile. “He must be cold too.” Then he sighed, “Try to think about something else.”
His thoughts drifted to his life before this Great Depression. He had been the manager of one of the leading banks in Chicago and had a grand apartment downtown. But when the banks failed, so did he. And now, here he was, on the street, with nothing to call his own other than the rags on his back. He had even lost his hat at the river when he had nearly lost his life.
The sun was beginning to come up now. The sad, angry red haze that rested over the city seemed to be appropriate for the circumstance. As the sun rose, the shadows began to appear. A ray of sunlight rested about three feet from where he was sitting, curled up against the icy cold building. He could see the puffs of his breath as he struggled to get his stiff frame to move. He moved into the light. Immediately the warmth of the sun encompassed him like an affectionate embrace from a loved one. Slowly his stiff fingers began to thaw and it seemed his mind was thawing as well. Energy & strength accompanied the warmth returning to his body.
Suddenly, a thought struck him. He looked around and noticed that, besides his ray of sunshine, shadows enveloped the rest of the alley. Everything around him was still in darkness and was cold and damp. The darkness of the shadows seemed stifling. But none of that affected him, for he was in the sun.
His heart leapt with joy. “My heart is the same.” He thought aloud. “I once was stiff and cold, but now it has all changed. The darkness and shadows around don’t affect me, because I have stepped into the sunshine of God’s Son.” He smiled peacefully and dwelt on that a moment.
Yes, today something would change. Today something would be right. Because no matter what shadows lurked about him, he would walk in the warmth of the Son.
© 2010 Amber D. Schamel
The Foolish Princess
By Amber D. Schamel
“No, it can’t be true! I don’t believe it! I don’t believe it for one minute!” The shakiness in the Princess voice challenged her statement.
“I’m so sorry My Lady; I would never jest about such a fate befalling our King.” The noble Knight bowed his head in condolence to the young Princess.
“Why didn’t you do something? How could you let them kill him?” She shouted. The Princess could not see in her rage how these words pierced like a dagger into the faithful Knight’s heart.
“In the fury of the ambush, I became separated from His Majesty. I tried to reach him, but it was too late. The arrow of the enemy struck him down.” He replied in a small voice.
The Princess hands began to tremble as the reality of his words sank deep into her heart. What would happen to her now? And what of the kingdom? She knew she was incapable of ruling the kingdom on her own. And the servants! They may revolt! With her father gone, she was now unprotected, alone and completely without hope. Her blue eyes filled with tears as her panic rose. She stood speechless for a moment then her legs gave way and she crumpled to a sobbing bundle on the floor.
The Knight hesitated. What could he say? “My Lady, I’m so sorry. I…I can understand what you’re feeling, he was like a father to me as well.”
“No. You could never understand.” Her voice cracked and she took in a sharp breath. How could she stay here? Could this enormous lonely castle be home without her father? Is this still where she belonged? As she sobbed she realized that she could never stay here, not without her father. In one sudden, swift movement she sprang up from where she had collapsed and ran down the hall toward the castle gate.
“Princess! Wait! Come back!” The Knight called after her. But she didn’t hear. The gate of the castle creaked as she pushed them open and bolted for the forest. She ran as swiftly as she could until her legs would no longer carry her. She slumped behind a tree and tried to think, but there was nothing but a dead silence inside of her. In one moment her whole world had shattered.
Little did the princess know she had a very large inheritance left to her, which included a very large army, hundreds of servants and almost the whole kingdom.
Now, the princess’ father had an enemy. He was a Deceiver, but most called him “Lord.” He was very handsome, but very sly, and possessed a bitter hatred toward the King; this made him want to jump at the slightest chance to destroy anything the King loved. So when he heard that the princess was oblivious to her inheritance, he was determined to make sure she didn’t get it. He would trick her into walking with him down the very path that would lead to her death.
The Deceiver set off on his journey to find her. He found the princess wandering in a field, not knowing what to do, or where to go next.
After studying her for a minute, the Deceiver approached her. The princess was sitting on a rock. Her auburn hair tangled from the wind, her blue and purple gown torn, her eyes full of tears and loneliness. She looked up and saw the Deceiver coming towards her. His dark wavy hair was flowing in the gentle breeze, the sun shone on his darkened skin. His eyes gazed into hers, but she could not read them. They
were mysterious and warm, yet in some way cold. Then the Deceiver smiled. The smile promised such warmth and understanding.
Then with the softest of tones, the Deceiver spoke. “What could trouble you on a beautiful day like this?”
How could the princess explain the feeling inside of her? Cold, empty, lonely, afraid, confused? No. It was more than that. She felt that no one in this world could ever love her. The Deceiver knew this, and would use it to annihilate her.
The Deceiver sat down beside her. “Come now, you can tell me. I’ll do whatever I can to help.” He said tenderly.
The Princess said nothing. She looked up at the Deceiver. He seemed so kind.
“Alright then,” the Deceiver said, “Come with me and I will take you to get something to eat. That should cheer you up. It’s not safe to leave such a pretty thing as you all alone.” then with a charming smile the Deceiver helped the princess off the rock, and together they walked toward the town.
As they walked the Deceiver persuaded the princess to talk to him. Soon he had her laughing and talking freely. By the time they reached a lodge she had forgotten, at least for now, about all her difficulties.
The Deceiver looked at the princess. “You miss your father, don’t you?”
The princess lowered her head as her eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” then she looked hopefully at him. “Did you know him?”
“Very well” the Deceiver lied. “He was a good man.”
The Deceiver lifted the princess’ chin and looked affectionately into her eyes. “The reason I came to find you, is because your father wanted me to take you to a special place he has for you. Come with me, and I will take you there.”
Something told the princess she shouldn’t believe him, but she could not fathom that this man, who looked so tenderly into her eyes, would ever harm her. Thoughts raced through her mind, but she didn’t have time to answer. “It’s all settled then. I’ll meet you outside.”
With that the Deceiver walked out the door of the lodge leaving the princess to her thoughts.
Once outside, the Deceiver slipped into the shadows. “Judas!” he whispered harshly. The warmth in his eyes that had been present only a moment ago was replaced with a cool hatred.
A raspy voice answered, “Yes My Lord.” as a murky figure emerged from the darkness.
“Go ahead of us, make sure everything’s ready… And Judas, make sure He doesn’t find you.”
“Yes, my Lord.” and Judas slipped quickly out of sight.
The Deceiver stepped back into the light just as the Princess came out of the lodge. “Are you ready?”
The Princess took a deep breath. “If that is what father wants, yes, I’ll go.”
Judas slinked along the path, staying in the shadows. But he did not notice the horsemen coming up behind him. One of the horsemen spotted him. “There, in the shadows! Halt!”
Judas glanced behind him and saw the symbol of the Fleur De Lis on the banner. “No!” he whispered. “It’s them! The Great Master‘s Calvary! “He ran as fast as he could into the forest trying to escape.
Judas froze, not by his own will, but because of the authority in the horseman’s voice.
He turned to face the horsemen, who at once recognized him.
“The Master will wish to question you.”
Before Judas could object he was standing before the Great Master, the Master of all.
The Princess and the Deceiver had been walking for a long time. The Princess tender feet were sore and she wished to turn back.
“I should have thought.” The Deceiver said sympathetically. “It isn’t fit for a lovely princess to walk all this way. I should have brought a horse for you. But you’re strength is great. We are nearly there.”
With this encouragement, the Princess trudged on and soon heard the sound of rushing water. It was a river, and it was raging furiously as they approached its edge. The Deceiver stepped onto the bridge, but the Princess hesitated. She stared at the furious current.
“Princess.” the Deceiver pulled her back to the moment. He offered his hand to her. She reluctantly took it and they crossed the bridge.
When they reached the other side, the Deceiver smiled viciously at her. “Welcome to my side of the river Princess.” A horde of dark creatures rapidly advanced upon her, bearing ropes and whips. They tied her hands helplessly behind her back.
“Now I will finally get my revenge on your father!” the Deceiver laughed.
Fear pierced her heart as the creatures began to beat her and pull out her hair. They tore at her dress and blood was streaming from her cheek.
Suddenly, a loud voice hindered them. “Deceiver Stop!”
The Princess’ eyes searched for the source of the commanding voice. She looked up and saw a man in white robes standing on a rock, His auburn hair flowing in the breeze.
The Deceiver whirled around to face him. “You can’t stop me! She came by her own will!” the Deceiver screeched. Then a sly grin crossed over his face. “But… there is one alternative.”
“Then so be it!” Her Deliverer thundered. The Deceiver stood shocked as the Deliverer took a dagger and cut the cords that bound the Princess. When she looked into her Deliverer’s loving brown eyes, the Princess couldn’t move. A feeling swept over her that she couldn’t understand.
Her Deliverer turned to face the Deceiver, and dropped the dagger at his feet. “It is written ‘… all is accomplished by His anguish… My Righteous Servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous.”
The Deceiver stared at him in bewilderment; then smiled so wickedly that the entire forest shivered at the sight. He signaled to his creatures and they immediately bound the Deliverer with the ropes and
began to torture him. They beat him with their fist and with their whips until his snow white robes were covered in blood.
“Please, no! Stop!” the Princess tried to push through the horde but was beaten to the ground by one of the creatures. She lay there in horror as the Deceiver picked up the blade and raised it above his head.
“NOOOO!” then there was a horrid silence as the blade pierced through her Deliverer’s heart. The Princess could not tell how many minutes passed.
“He’s dead! The son of the Great Master is dead!” The Deceiver cried victoriously. The creatures echoed his cry.
As the Princess gaped at the limp body on the ground, all else seemed to fade away. She did not notice that the creatures, which had been all around her, had now gone across the bridge to seek new victims.
As she sat in the dirt she realized what had just happened. She curled up buried her face in her hands and wept. Then a comforting voice whispered into her ear.
She looked up and saw her Deliverer smiling tenderly at her. He looked just the same as he had before, except now he was wearing a red sash and his face was shining with love and victory.
“You… were… dead!” the bewildered Princess stammered.
“Shhh, it’s all right now. You’re free. The Deceiver has no power over you.”
“But… I don’t understand... Why did you…? How could you…?”
“My beloved Princess, it does not need to be understood now. Someday, you will understand. Come it is time to go home.”
He took her hand and together they crossed the bridge. A beautiful, gleaming staircase stood before them that led up into the clouds. Her Deliverer began to ascend the staircase.
“Home?” The princess asked in confusion.
“Yes. Come.” And he led her up the staircase into his beautiful city.
©2009 Amber D. Schamel
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Amber Schamel was born in Littleton, CO and has traveled extensively throughout the United States, Europe, and the Holy Land. She was raised in a family of 11 children, home-schooled through education and currently works with their 10 family businesses. Amber is a multi-published author and currently lives with her family outside of Colorado Springs, CO..
(c) 2013 Amber Schamel