Undercover Mommy Contest

It’s only two weeks until we all have our Mommy celebrations, but I’m gonna get started now! For the next two weeks, I’m going undercover.

I'm on the lookout for those super-special mommies, the still-figuring-it-out mommies, and the somebody-help-me-or-I’m-gonna-scream mommies. (Let’s face it: if you’re a mommy, you’ve been all of the above.) When I find those mommies, I'm going to make sure they know they're appreciated with a smile, a "thank you," and an autographed copy of Thank You, God, for Mommy!

I’ll be on Facebook, Twitter, in the grocery stores, and in the school pick-up lines looking for all of those mommies that we thank God for every day.

Look for upcoming stories of the random Mommies in Action that I catch in person, and . . .

I want to hear YOUR mommy stories too! Tell me about the mommy that YOU thank God for—either below or on my Facebook page, and the entry to get the most Likes wins an adorable, autographed Thank You, God, for Mommy. (If you post as a comment below, I will re-post to my Facebook page. Tell your friends to look for it there!)

So, do you have a mommy to celebrate? Tell me about it.

Don’t wanna take your chances? Get one at my upcoming signing or through my website. 

I can’t wait to meet all of the wonderful mommies out there!

What's in a Name?

Shakespeare got it. But we often forget.


Then this morning, as I'm trudging through the name-heavy Nehemiah, I am reminded.


No one really cares about the names, do they?


I'm sorry: I'll read them, but I don't care at all about the names of the people returning to Jerusalem or in what capacity they served. Not really. What moves me, what connects me to them, what evokes human emotion is their story. They overcame the obstacles, with divine dedication, to return and rebuild. That's the story.


Long before Stephen King was STEPHEN KING, there was The Stand, The Shining. There have been a lot of Jesuses since Jesus Christ of Nazareth, but there's really only one Jesus, isn't there? His name could have just as easily have been Bakbukiah. (God had mercy on His children. :) It was His history, His heart, His story that mattered.


So as I'm stepping away from Mount Hermon Christian Writer's Conference--where everyone's goal is (let's' be honest) to end up with his or her name on a book--it's fitting that I'm reminded that names matter not. It's our stories.


The only stories we have to tell are the ones God gives to us. So whether your name is Amaraiah or Amy. Whether it's in 72-point type on the front cover or never makes it into print at all. Whether you're speaking to millions or the person beside you on the bench, just tell your story.


It's all that matters. It's all we've got.


What's your story?