Counted Worthy: A New Christian Novel With A Story Worth Reading

  Leah E. Good is homeschooler, now homeschooling college. She wrote the book Counted Worthy and self-published after being fully funded by Kickstarter in just a few days. I have just recently finished reading Counted Worthy, and I would highly recommend it to anyone looking for a book of moderate length with a Christian theme that is not too overbearing and pretentious.

The main character, Heather Stone, is trying to do what's right, but is faced with difficult decisions that have dire consequences again and again. She doesn't want to repeat the past, yet she does want to follow God's will for her life. This all weaves its way into an intriguing and fast-paced story that will suck you in right from the start.

I believe that Leah Good has written a wonderful book that should (and will) be read over and over again and I highly encourage doing so.

Every generation must discover its own storyweavers. Leah Good is one of ours and we are fortunate. Counted Worthy is a thrilling work of inspirational fiction that perfectly complements the message of Do Hard Things. Grab a copy for yourself, grab a copy for a friend, and help spread the word about this phenomenal debut. Counted Worthy belongs in the hands of every Christian teen and story lover in the country. It’s that good. –Brett Harris, bestselling author of Do Hard Things

The Author - Leah E. Good

I definitely believe Counted Worthy is worth reading and telling others about. I also believe that Leah has shown to the world that she is a hardworking and talented author and could be added to the list of Who I Look Up To. Since reading her blog and book, I have often thought, How cool is that? I would love to do just what she did! Also, random fact, her novel inspired me to start writing another story and this one I hope to follow through with (yeah, right, I know). I truly enjoyed this story and I hope anyone who gets the chance to read it enjoys it just as much.

Radical. Intense. Compelling. Leah Good’s dystopian novel, Counted Worthy, powerfully embodies the message that today’s young people need to hear: the Reason we have to die to self, pursue the impossible, and when all else fails, to stand. This is the message that has the potential to turn a generation of complacency into a generation of inspiration. –Melody van Achterberg, reader

You can find Leah on her blog, Leah's Bookshelf. I highly encourage you to do so.

-Kira

Germany Pictures

Here are some pictures from our time spent in Germany:

On the Red-Eye to Frankfurt Germany

Posting This One Just So That Nobody Can Use it Against Me Later

The To-Go Coffee Cups on the Ship

The Lettering at the Top is in Futhark, the Viking Language
It Says "Coffee"
The Smaller Writing is a Quote from Johann Sebastian Bach
"How sweet coffee tastes! Lovelier
than a thousand kisses, sweeter
than Muscatel wine!"

Police

These Locks Were on a Bridge by Our Ship

Our Ship - Viking Ship Kara

A German Mime (I Think - He Didn't Say Much)

A Tower that Broke in Half

Castle Grounds

Lunch in Heidelburg

I plan to add some more pictures over time, but this is a start for until I can get to it.

-Kira

The Next Bit - "Broken" Installment 2

So here's the next piece of Broken, one of the stories I'm in the middle of right now. The first part can be found in the post To Write or Not to Write? - "Broken" Installment 1. This section is much (much much much) shorter than the last one, but still somewhat lengthy, just so you know. Feel free to let me know what you think.

***

Mrs. Roffen gave her a minute before she spoke. “Callie?” Callie turned to face her. “Are you ready to go back to my office? I’ve already called some people and now we just need to wait for them to call back.” Why was everyone asking her if she was ready? Of course she wasn’t ready! She didn’t think she would ever be ready for what was about to happen, but she nodded any way.

She led Callie through a door that led into a hallway lined with doors. They walked about halfway down the hall before entering one of these doors. In the room, there was a white desk and chair, two other chairs across from the desk, and a filing cabinet in the corner. Besides the furniture, the room was filled with pink decorations: feathery boas, cut-out hearts, and plastic necklaces adorned everything. It looked like Mrs. Roffen had let a kindergarten class decorate her office for Valentines Day and just left it up.

“Please, sit down.” Callie suddenly realized that while she had been looking around the bright room, Mrs. Roffen had taken her seat behind the desk and started sorting through papers. “It’s probably going to be a bit before anyone calls back and I need to get some work done. If you don’t have anything to do, there are some magazines here that you could take a look at.” She gestured to a basket beside her desk that Callie hadn’t noticed before.

“I brought some books. In my bag,” she managed. She opened one of the bags that she had been clinging to so tightly that her knuckles were white. Shirts spilled out. Callie quickly refolded them and put them back in the bag. She tried again, this time pulling out Percy Jackson and the Last Olympian from the other bag. She settled down in a chair to read.

Callie was about a hundred pages through the book a couple of hours later when the pink phone on Mrs. Roffen’s desk rang and Callie jumped. She had been so engrossed in the story that she had forgotten her current situation.

“Hello?” Mrs. Roffen said. “Hello, Sheila! Oh, Thank you. Wonderful. I’ll get back to you soon. Okay, thank you. Good bye.” She hung up. “That was Ms. Sheila,” she told Callie. “She says you can come stay with her if she sounds like the best candidate. We still need to wait for a few more people to call back though.”

So they waited. Over the next hour or so, the phone rang five more times. Mrs. Roffen told Callie that three of the callers couldn’t take her, but the other two could. “It’s time to call some people back. We’ll start with Ms. Sheila.” She dialed a phone number. “Hello, Sheila. This is Aileen. Yes, we’ve heard back from everybody. I think we’re going to go with the Baileys this time. Yes. Well, thank you. Good bye.” The next phone call was extremely similar, but the one after that was the Baileys. “Hello, Sandra. This is Aileen. Yes. When can we come over? Now? That sounds marvelous. We’ll be there in about 15 minutes. Okay then. Good bye.” She hung up the phone and turned to Callie. “Good news! We can go over to the Baileys’ right away. Do you have all of your things?”

Callie wondered what was so good about the situation but nodded any anyway.

“All right then. Let’s go!” They walked back through the building then out into the cold afternoon wind. When they got to the small white Volvo, Callie blinked in surprise. She had figured that Mrs. Roffen’s car would be pink too. She shook her head and climbed into the passenger seat, placing her clothing bag at her feet and holding the other bag in her lap.

The car ride was quiet. Mrs. Roffen made a couple attempts at conversation, but Callie didn’t feel like talking. All the questions she had earlier wondered about her future came flooding back into her tired brain.

The Baileys lived in a large yet cute house in a large yet cute neighborhood. As Mrs. Roffen pulled into the driveway, Callie looked at the neatly trimmed grass and carefully weeded flower bed. Does anyone ever play in this yard? she wondered. I don’t see any good climbing trees. “Do the Baileys have any kids?” she asked aloud, as they got out of the car and began walking up the well cared-for sidewalk.

“Yes,” Mrs. Roffen replied as she rang the doorbell. “They have three children. I think the youngest is about your age.”

Callie heard someone inside the house yell, “Callie’s here!” then heard footsteps thumping around the house all headed closer to the door. When it swung open suddenly and quickly, Callie took an involuntary step back. Standing in the doorway were a mother with chestnut curls and a heavy build, a father with straight dark brown hair and strong green eyes, and a girl about her age and size with her mid-length hair pulled back into a ponytail on the back of her head. They all smiled, but the girl looked a little nervous.

The lady opened the screen door and stepped out on to the small porch. “Please come inside.” She gestured through the door and her family members moved away to let them through. Callie looked back at Mrs. Roffen, who nodded. Callie stepped inside. The man and girl were standing along the wall of the short narrow hallway. They were still smiling at her. Callie gave a small smile that she was sure was even more nervous than the girl’s then lowered her eyes and moved to make room in the entryway for the lady and Mrs. Roffen.

   

 “Why don’t we all go into the living room to sit down?” the lady said. That’s what they did.

   

 When everyone was seated more or less comfortably, Mrs. Roffen began. “Sandra, Gary, and Katherine, this is Callie Holtz. Callie these are the Baileys. You’ll be staying with them for a while, okay?”

   

 Callie nodded. She figured that she probably didn’t look terribly intelligent what with all the nodding and not talking, but if she was going to be staying with them for “a while” as Mrs. Roffen put it, they would get to know her better. If she wanted them to.

They were talking again. Callie decided that she should probably listen.

“Hi Callie! I’m Mrs. Bailey and this is Mr. Bailey and this is one of our daughters, Katherine. Our eldest daughter, Susan, is at tennis practice and our son, Michael, is with his friends right now. They’ll be home later. We’re very sorry for your loss.”

Callie wasn’t entirely certain about how to respond to this. She went with a simple, “Thank you,” as she struggled to hold back a new rise of tears.

“Callie, do you have your bags?” asked Mrs. Roffen. Again, Callie nodded. “Wonderful. Unfortunately, I have to go now. We already did our homestudy, so I won’t need to see where Callie will be sleeping. I’ll get in touch about court dates and visits and whatnot. Goodbye Callie.”

Callie managed a small, “Bye. And thank you.” Mrs. Roffen didn’t catch the last part, but looked at Callie sympathetically. Then she and Mrs. Bailey left the room and Callie could hear them talking in the entryway but couldn’t make out the words. She could, however, make out the sound of the door closing behind Mrs. Roffen. I really am alone now she thought, tearfully. I have absolutely no one. I am alone.

Conceal, Don't Feel

If you have ever heard the song from Frozen called "For the First Time in Forever" you might remember Elsa's words in the moments before she is to be crowned Queen of Arendelle.

Don't let them in

Don't let them see

Be the good girl

You always have to be

Conceal

Don't feel

Put on a show...

After I watched that movie for the first time, I honestly sang those words to myself over and over again - whenever something was wrong. I figured nobody wanted to hear my problems and I didn't want to sound like I was complaining or end up boring people to death. But most of all, I didn't want anyone to think I had any difficulties with life at all.

I recently went to a middle school retreat where the first Bible talk was exactly what I needed to hear. The theme that night was "Life as a Christian is hard." The speaker first made this fact very clear, then went on to say that we often want our lives to look perfect to people outside of our immediate family or we want to make Christianity look appealing to nonbelievers and so we hide our problems. I realized this is me. Next, the pastor told us that it's okay to admit we have problems and to talk about them with someone you trust. He repeated this note and assured us that it was in fact a good thing to do. That's why God gave us friends. To share burdens - to be there for each other.

This hit me. Hard.

I had been hiding my problems for so long, trying to look good and be perfect to almost everyone I knew. It was wearing me down. I was on edge. I kept telling my sister that I had no one to talk to, when, really, I could have talked to her or plenty of other people. I was hiding it. Concealing. Not feeling. I made an actual effort to force my negative emotions down inside of me until they couldn't show through any more to anyone outside my family.

Last November, my Grandpa died. It wasn't easy on anyone. He died only a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving, without any of us knowing whether or not he was a Christian. For months, I cried and scolded myself for this. I had had the perfect opportunity to testify for Jesus a few months before he died. And I hadn't. I didn't do it because I was scared. I didn't want to be laughed at. I wanted to look perfect in a human's eyes. So I continued to lose sleep over this until August. November to August I worried and prayed for him to be in heaven, but I was never sure he was. I never had any peace about it.

But at camp, in August, there was someone to talk to. I told her everything, tears pouring from my eyes. I hadn't spoken about my Grandpa's death to anyone since November. I had tried to avoid the subject entirely and got upset with my siblings when they talked about it. But, now, I was able to dump it all out. I drained those tears. I felt so much better. The lady I talked to pointed me to John 3:16, which may seem like a familiar verse and not really comforting, but it was.

For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.

Next, she told me to replace some of the words with my own name. Now it read:

For God so loved Kira that He gave His only begotten Son, that if Kira believes in Him she should not perish but have everlasting life.

That changed it a lot for me. It gave this often used verse a new meaning and it comforted me. Why? Because if God loved me enough to send His only Son to die for me, then He must have loved my Grandpa enough to die for him, too. And while I don't know where my Grandpa is right now, I know that God gave him a choice too. God used who He wanted to use in my Grandpa's life. And even if I didn't outright say it, I hope that I lived for Jesus enough to make a difference for my Grandpa. I hope that he saw Christ through my actions - even if I wasn't always perfect.

All that to say, after I talked about my Grandpa's death for the first time in almost nine months, I felt much better. It was so much easier after I told someone what I was feeling. Now I feel much more at peace about it. It was doing me no good to try to "Conceal, Don't feel." It was only hurting me.

Now that I know that, hopefully it won't be so hard to show people that I live a broken life in a broken world, just like everybody else. Hopefully it won't be so hard to admit that I'm a sinner and that things hurt. It's not easy to be a Christian. But sharing makes it easier.

-Kira

Random Picture Accumulation

Please excuse the lack of posts lately - I went to another camp and am now (supposed to be) getting ready to go to the beach. So I thought today I would share some random pictures from lately. (Don't you just love my grammar?)

Trying to take a profile pic for a class I'm taking this year that I personally think makes me look okay :)

Samson the no-longer-kitten eating in his cat tree

a leaf (from camp, so that makes it a special leaf)

Will making his own cake

cooking in boots - the best way to do it

And there you go. A few quick pictures from before we go to the beach. Enjoy the rest of your week!

-Kira

To Write or Not to Write? - "Broken" Installment 1

[August 13, 2014 - I decided to take off a bunch of the story that I had posted after realizing it was soooo long. So that is why some is clipped off the end.]

I have a dilemma. I am trying to decide whether I should continue writing a "novel" that I have started. I have a few family members that have read it and they want me to continue, but I'm not so sure if I want to or not. So I am asking for your help.

Here's what I'm gonna do. I will post the first chapter of the said "novel" and see what you think. If I get a positive response, I will post the next chapter to see if it stays positive. After that I will probably stop posting it because I would really like to publish it someday if I end up finishing it. So here's the first chapter. If you enjoy reading it, please "+1" this post or "like" it or something and share it with a friend. Thank you, and I hope you "like" it! :)

P.S. It's kind of long ("long" as in four pages on Google Docs), so don't feel like you have to read the whole thing.

***

Broken

Kira Quintin

Callie shook her head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that. I’m sorry.” She choked up, drowning her slight Southern accent.

There was a sigh from the other end of the phone. “I know it’s very hard for you to accept this Callie. I’m terribly sorry, but it’s true. Your mother didn’t make it. I’m sorry.” The police officer really was telling the truth and Callie knew it. But, just like Officer Thompson had said, she didn’t want to accept it. “I’ll be over in about ten minutes, okay?”

Callie managed to stammer out a weak, “Okay. Bye.” She hung up the phone and sank to the floor. Officer Thompson had called earlier to explain to her about the accident and how her mother had gone to the hospital, still alive but only barely - and what would happen to Callie if her mother didn’t make it. She had been waiting tensely since that first phone call praying the entire time that her mother would make it. But she hadn’t. Callie began to sob.

She was still there ten minutes later, sobbing softly, when there was a knock on the door and Officer Thompson stepped in and quietly closed the door. The officer was of average height with straight, brown hair that was usually pulled back into a tight bun. She had been good friends with Callie’s mother before the accident and always treated Callie like she was the same age as herself, which made Callie feel good.

Callie tried to control her sobs and rose to greet Officer Thompson, but the kind lady spoke first. “I’m so sorry, Callie girl. Come here.” She drew Callie into a hug. As she wept into her shoulder, Callie smelled the familiar scent of Officer Thompson’s perfume. It smelled like pine trees filled to bursting with sap. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, but by the time she pulled herself away, Callie’s eyes were red and her cheeks were soaked with tears.

“I’m sorry. I got your uniform all wet.”

“Callie girl, don’t you worry about it. You and I both know you have bigger things to worry about right now.” Wasn’t that the truth. “Now, sweetie, I have to take you over to the Department of Social Services. They’re going to find you a place to live for a while ‘til all this is sorted out, okay?”

Something inside her fell. Social Services. That meant foster care. That meant her world was about to be even more upside down and scrambled. She would be living with strangers and would be separated from everything she knew and loved. “Do I have time to pack some things before we have to go?”

“Sure, sweetie. I’ll wait here.”

Callie was so grateful for Officer Thompson. She knew that Callie needed some time to herself and that she might not get it for a while.

Callie came down about 15 minutes later with a backpack of clothing and a small bag of notebooks and pens. “Is this too much to bring?” she asked quietly. She wasn’t sure what the standard amount of stuff to bring was.

“No, that should be just fine. Are you ready to go?” Officer Thompson was so gentle with her, Callie almost started crying again. She had to fight back the tears before she could answer and then it was almost a whisper.

“Yeah. I guess.” They turned to leave when Callie thought of one more thing she wanted to bring. “Actually, could I go get one more thing?”

“I don’t see why not. Why don’t you let me take your bags on out to the car and you 
can meet me out there.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She raced upstairs to her mom’s room and grabbed her mother’s favorite necklace. It was a silver A for Alice on a thin silver chain. Alice was her mother. Was. She fastened the necklace around her neck and tucked it under her shirt.

As Callie walked back down the stairs and out to the patrol car, she did her best not to think about her mother, but to focus on what was happening today. Where would she go? Who would she stay with? How long would she have to stay? Would she ever get to see her grandma again? She really loved her grandma. She had taught Callie to sew and cook and bake and always seemed to be there when Callie needed her.

Officer Thompson had both her bags in the trunk of the car and was standing by the passenger door, waiting. “Is there anything else you want to bring? You’ll probably have plenty of time just sitting around in a few minutes.”

“I got my notebooks and I put a couple of books in my backpack.”

“Okay. Ready?”

“I guess.”

Officer Thompson opened the passenger door for her then walked around to the driver’s side and climbed in. “I should probably tell you a little bit of what to expect,” she said as she started the engine. “I’m not going to be able to stay once we get to Social Services, but I’ve already called ahead, so they know that we’re coming.” The small bit of hope that Callie had left receded a little bit more. “So, once you get there, you’re probably going to meet a social worker who will ask you to have a seat. You’ll probably be there for a good long while, while she calls people to see if they are able to,” here she hesitated. “Host you for a while. Then, once they’ve determined the best place for you to go, the social worker will drive you over to the house where you’ll be staying. After that, she’ll talk to the adults and make sure you’re all right. Then she’ll go and you’ll get to settle in a little bit.”

Callie nodded. That didn’t sound like much fun, but there wasn’t much that she could do to change it. “Okay.” Her voice was small.

They continued in silence until they reached the one level brick building. It didn’t look very inviting from the cozily heated patrol car.

As she stepped out into the crisp late March air, Callie shivered and pulled her coat tighter against the cold wind. Officer Thompson opened up the trunk and retrieved her two bags. She glanced at Callie. “I’m ready,” she assured the officer, though Callie herself wasn’t quite so sure.

Officer Thompson nodded. “Okay then.” They started walking toward the glass front doors, Officer Thompson carrying the bags and Callie despairing at what was most certainly in her near future.

The glass doors weren’t the scary part - it was what was behind them that had Callie worried. What if her social worker was mean? What if the foster family lived too far away to ever see any of her friends? What if her dad found out where she was living? That was the scariest thought of all. Her dad. Callie’s mom didn’t talk about him much and she always seemed to make sure Callie was off with friends or family when he was around. It wasn’t just that he was disliked by Mrs. Holtz - he had been going downhill for some time now and Callie didn’t know why. From what little she had seen and heard, Callie had figured out that he was always drunk and hung around with awful influences. One time, when Mrs. Holtz had talked about him, she had told Callie that he hadn’t always been that way. She said that he had once been as kind and gentle and loving as any one. Then things got hard. He lost his job. When he he couldn’t find another, he had started going to the bar more and more often. He was out later and more often. Then, one night, he just hadn’t come back. Now he still visited from time to time when he wasn’t in jail. It was usually asking for money. And every time Mrs. Holtz had turned him away empty handed. Callie had once asked why and her mother had responded by saying she used to give him money but he never did anything good with it.

Callie pushed those thoughts from her head as they walked through the doors. The first room they walked into was large, tiled, and had chairs lining the walls. Callie glanced up at Officer Thompson for reassurance and was rewarded with a warm (albeit small) smile.

Officer Thompson led her through another glass door into a much smaller room with one of those windows that looked into another room with someone with a desk and a strained smile. “How can I help you?” the receptionist asked when she noticed them walking in.

“I’m Jane Thompson and this is Callie Holtz. I called ahead?” Officer Thompson clearly knew what she was doing.

“Oh, yes,” the lady said. She gave Callie a sympathetic look. “Mrs. Roffen will be ready to speak with you in just a moment.”

“Thank you.” Officer Thompson went over to have a seat in one of yet another row of chairs and Callie followed. “Now as soon as we meet Mrs. Roffen, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to go.”

Callie nodded. She had been dreading that moment since Officer Thompson had first mentioned it. “Okay. Thank you for everything.”

“It was nothin’ sweetie. Don’t you worry about it.” She gave Callie another warm smile. “I’m gonna be sure and come check on ya - see how you’re doin’ real often, okay?”

Callie nodded again. That was one comfort that she could cling to. Officer Thompson would take care of her.

Just then, a large lady dressed completely in pink walked through another glass door. The pink ruffle on the hem of her pink skirt ruffled whenever her pink high heels clicked on the white tile.

She opened her pink lips and began speaking. It took Callie a minute to realize this as she was looking at all of the pink enclosing the short stout lady. “...must be Callie!” The lady gave a large smile showing lipstick stained teeth which Callie did her best to return. “I’m Mrs. Roffen and I’ll be your social worker!” She punctuated every sentence with a too-warm smile. Plus, she sounded like a flight attendant - like the next  thing she might say would be, “Please buckle up for take off!”

Officer Thompson was looking at Callie with concerned green eyes. “You all right, sweetie?”

Of course she wasn’t all right! Her mother had just died and this pink lady was about to have control of her fate. Despite all this, Callie managed to stammer out a, “Yes, ma’am.” When Officer Thompson still didn’t look very assured, she added, “It’s just been a long day.”

She still didn’t look very sure, but turned back to the social worker. “I’m afraid I have to go. Is there anything else you need?”

“No. Thank you very much, Officer Thompson,” Mrs. Roffen replied sweetly.

“Okay. How ‘bout you, Callie girl? You need anything?

“No, ma’am. Thanks again for everything.”

“Don’t mention it. Come here, gal.” Officer Thompson wrapped her in another warm hug. “I’m so sorry, Callie. I’m so sorry.”

Tears began streaming down Callie’s face again and when she looked up, she saw that Officer Thompson was crying silently too. Callie pulled reluctantly away.

“Bye Callie. I promise I’ll come and see you.” She reached out and brushed a strand of hair away from Callie’s face.

“Okay. Bye.”

Officer Thompson turned to go, but then glanced back. “I’ll always be here for you if you need anything. You know my cell number.” Then she left.

Callie was now in a world of strangers who got to decide what was going to happen to her. She almost broke down in tears again as she watched out the window while Officer Thompson started the car and drove off.

***

Thank you for reading it and don't forget to share it!

-Kira

Is It True?

My sister and I are off to camp today! We are going to an amazing Bible Camp for a really great week of fun, Bible studies, and memory verses. It's called (drum-roll, please) . . . Bethel Bible Camp!

At this camp, there are some pretty awesome things to do including (but not limited to): archery, waterslide, creek, cookout, soccer!, and much more. So all that is amazing stuff that I love doing and that's part of the reason I love this camp so much. Another wonderful aspect is the girls there. There are so many beautiful, lovely girls there, worshiping God and laughing together. By the time you read this, we will probably already be there.

But the best part is probably the Bible studies. Every morning and evening there is an hour or so of listening to some great seminar-like sessions. I, personally, have learned so much from these and I've only been going to Bethel for two years. Take for example last year's sessions. They were all about "Christianity on Trial: what does the Bible teach and is it true?" Here are some of my notes on the first session:

• Is what the Bible says really true?
• Does truth exist?
• My life depends on whether the Bible is true or not.
• "Belief in something doesn't make it true; only truth makes it true." -Os Guinness

Truth By Nature Is:

1. non-contradictory
2. absolute
3. discovered
4. discriptive
5. inescapable
6. unchanging

• Truth has to fit reality and make sense.
• Truth does not go away just because you don't believe it.
• Truth that is "Truth Within" is non-existent, unless I put God's truth inside of me.
• Truth cannot be a personal thing. It's the same for everyone.
• "We see the world not as it is, but as we are." - Stephen Covey
• Truth that matches reality is true for me and you whether you like it or not.

So that was the first session. What conclusion did I come to at the end of the week? Is the Bible true? Does it fit these criteria?  My answer:

• I'm not alone. God's here.
• God is real and He cares about me.
• God provides. 

That's what I found. What will you find? Is the Bible true? I believe that it is. Is God real? I believe that He is. Does my salvation depend on Him? I believe that it does. And I know I need to believe it to be saved.

-Kira