• The Writer

    Hello! My name is Laura, welcome to my blog! I write weird stories, collect dragon plushies and stay up too late with my nose in a book. I am a wife, mom and child saved by grace. My hope is that you find encouragement here or at least a smile or too.
    God bless!

  • “Now go, write it before them in a table, and note it in a book that it may be for the time to come forever and ever.”
    ~Isaiah 30:8.

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    April 2018
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  • Quotes

    We have come from God, and inevitably the myths woven by us, though they contain error, will also reflect a splintered fragment of the true light, the eternal truth that is with God. Indeed only by myth-making, only by becoming 'sub-creator' and inventing stories, can Man aspire to the state of perfection that he knew before the Fall. Our myths may be misguided, but they steer however shakily towards the true harbour, while materialistic 'progress' leads only to a yawning abyss and the Iron Crown of the power of evil.
    ~J.R.R. Tolkien

    "The only just literary critic," he concluded, "is Christ, who admires more than does any man the gifts He Himself has bestowed."
    ~J.R.R. Tolkien

    “Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisioned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?. . .If we value the freedom of mind and soul, if we're partisans of liberty, then it's our plain duty to escape, and to take as many people with us as we can!”
    ~J.R.R. Tolkien

    "Writers who see by the light of their Christian faith will have, in these times, the sharpest eye for the grotesque, for the perverse, and for the unacceptable. To the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind you draw large and startling figures."
    ~Flannery O'Connor

    You write to communicate to the hearts and minds of others what’s burning inside you. And we edit to let the fire show through the smoke.
    ~Arthur Polotnik

    Words - so innocent and powerless as they are, as standing in a dictionary, how potent for good and evil they become in the hands of one who knows how to combine them.
    ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

    "There are forms of insanity that condemn people to hear voices against their will, but as writers we invite ourselves to hear voices without relinquishing our hold on reality or our right to control."
    ~Writing Fiction by Janet Burroway

    Christians have sometimes been suspicious of stories, because they really can influence you. If you read the Twilight novels once a month for a year, I think you'd be a different human afterward—and not a sparkly one.
    ~Nate Wilson

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Dreams vs. Dreams

Some of my random thoughts…


Created, imagined,

Innocent, pure,

Evolve, establish,

Longing, seeking,

Pursue, polish

Future, fear,

Battle, turmoil,

Courage, overcome,

Believe, achieve.


Vision, subconscious

Fog, unconscious-consciousness,

Timeless, journey,

Uncontrolled, random,

Familiar, within,

Playing, mocking,

Riddle, chaos,

Struggle, gripping,

Wake, haunt.


Dance in the Rain

Look up my child and dance in the rain,
I’ll wash away the burden of pain.
Your fears are but shadows that cover the road,
I’m walking beside you, please give me your load.

This life may harm you and people tear down,
But keep your heart open for my still small sound.
You may feel devoured, with nothing to gain.
So take my hand my beloved and dance in the rain.

To Forget

I wrote this last month.  It was one of those days when change seemed to be the enemy, laughing as I tried to hold on to things that once were: forgotten memories.  It was sort of meant to be a song, but I couldn’t quite get it to fit into that format.  It’s not my best work, I was more trying to force the thoughts out of my head then letting inspiration flow, but  anyway, here it is.  Let me know what you think.


This day would come, this we always knew,
We spun such wondrous dream, me and you.
The adventures we had, the magic we made,
Good times gone by, they now start to fade.

Now I’m saying goodbye, when it should have been hello,
You smile and wave, your face all aglow.
I hold back the tears; it shouldn’t be this way,
My breaking heart overflows with dismay.

As I watch you leave, the memories replay,
But their vibrant colors have all turned to gray.
I cling to the elusive drops as it begins to rain,
When I see you next, will it still be the same?

Do you understand? Or am I alone?
If I call, will you still pick up the phone?
This shouldn’t hurt, but the pain pierces deep,
The glass of broken promises you swore you would keep.

But I’ll always love you, I’ll never forget,
No matter what, never hold you do your debt.
I’ll always be there, even if you don’t see,
I’ll be waiting forever, beneath our memory tree.


Goel is the Mentor of Heart of Hope.  Chapter two is his introduction chapter, and since I’m in that chapter, I thought I would give you all a little peek.  🙂

His character has grown since I started writing, or rather, I’ve grown and his character comes more naturally to the page.  When I started writing Heart of Hope, Goel’s character was the hardest to get on paper.  Because of this I was dreading revising chapter two, wondering if he’d once again come out boring and forced.  What a surprise and a pleasure when he suddenly broke free of my mind and simply was himself, saying what he knew he would say.  He surprised me a few times as I re-wrote, and I can’t tell you how thrilling that was.

And so, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, meet Goel.

He paused, took a breath, closed his eyes and continued in quiet song. Avalyn leaned forward, listening to his soft voice.

“There comes a day drawing near,
When Darkness over Light will tread
An Evil once concealed will roam
A shadow ‘oer the land shall spread.

A people, blind, cry out for peace,
For day is night and hope is lost
They’ve bound themselves in heavy chains
Surrendering despite the cost.

Death will reign with iron fist,
Life will shutter and look for aid
Who can conquer such a foe?
And change the fate that men have made?

Two souls will rise to fight for hope,
And one will come from purest light
A sacrifice, to save the two
Defeating Death, reversing Night.

The Darkness shall be swept away,
Through his sacrifice of love
New life is given, new hope is found
By spotless blood spilled from above.”

Silence fell across the crowd. What could this mean? She had never heard this tale before, or this quiet song. Opening his eyes he leaned forward. His crowd of listeners was held by his gaze and his gentle way of speaking. Even the men and woman who mingled with the children stood in silence, waiting to hear more.

“I am Goel, and I bring you this tale. A prophecy of old, a whisper of the coming shadow none can escape.”

Avalyn glanced around, many of the adults shifted uncomfortably. The atmosphere around the crowd had suddenly changed.

“Heed my words, for there is hope yet,” Goel’s gaze fell on Avalyn. She blinked and dropped her own gaze to her feet. There was something about the way he looked at her, something strange. Was he still looking at her? She snuck a peek at him, he looked away, now eyeing the adults.

“The shadow has already begun to spread, more is coming.”

“What do you mean?” Some in the crowd asked, “We now of the king’s death. Is this the shadow you speak of?”

“It is but the whisper of cool wind before the fury of the storm. This death was no accident, is just the first step in a long-planned game.”

“You know more than you will say stranger,” Isaac, the innkeeper crossed his arms over his barrel of a chest and eyed Goel with suspicion.

Goel tilted his head and looked sideways at the heavy-set man who stood at the railing beside him.  “I know wise men may see through a lie, but for fools, truth is veiled from them.” His expression never changed as he spoke, nor did the tone of his voice alter, but as Avalyn watched, his eyes seemed to come alive with an inner fire. But it lasted a moment only and Avalyn wondered if she really saw anything at all.

Isaac stood up straighter and glared down at Goel. Avalyn could see a vain at the side of his neck twitch. “Fools indeed. It is a fool who comes and whispers misgivings in an unfamiliar place. You bring tales of hope than prophecy death and treason? What do you know that gives you the right to bring such whisperings here?”

“Isaac is right,” Avalyn turned and saw Warren, the cooper where he stood in the crowd. “We are a simple people, of no consequence to the politics of Albor. And we have no wish to entangle ourselves with these rumors of murder.”

Goel bowed his head, “We cannot choose what events shall change our curse of life, but we can choose how we shall face them.”

“Riddles of nonsense,” Isaac waved a hand as if brushing the statement away. “I will not have such words in my tavern, nor outside my doors. If you do not wish to bring trouble down on your own head storyteller, I suggest you leave Bryth this very day.” Isaac entered the tavern, followed by a few people in the crowd.

Avalyn looked around as parents gathered up their children and the crowd broke apart. A shiver crawled up her spine. This was so odd. What could this man’s strange words mean? A prophecy? A spreading shadow? Murder? Was this storyteller crazy? Or was Isaac right and he knew more than he would say?

Goel rose to his feet, as he did so, he lifted a travel-worn pack to his shoulder. As he descended the stairs he looked towards Avalyn. She met his gaze, he nodded then turned away. What did he mean? The question still echoed in Avalyn’s mind. She had to know.

“Wait!” She ran after him.

Goel stopped, turned around and waited for her to catch up. As he turned she caught sight of broadsword hanging from his waist. Strange, she wouldn’t have thought a storyteller to possess such a weapon.

She stopped directly in front of him. He wasn’t much taller than she was, though she tall for a girl, she could nearly look him in the eye.

“What did you mean about a shadow? Or how the king’s death was no accident?”

“Truth Avalyn, is hard for some to see. Tell me, are you the only one who desires to find it?”

Avalyn stepped back, “How, how did you know my name?”

“Three questions you ask of me. But which do you really wish to know?” His spoke slowly, as if tasting each word before letting it loose.

She stared at him. His brown eyes seemed to pull at her, becoming for her to search them and find the mysterious hidden within their depths. Who was he? Why didn’t he just answer her questions? What kind of secrets did he keep? What kind of person would know whether or not the king’s sudden death was due to natural causes, or, dare she even think, murder? Should she walk away now and forget about his words? What if they really were treasonous like Isaac suspected?

Her thoughts battled, trying to make sense of the man standing before her. There was something about him, in the way that he spoke; there was gentleness in his gaze, but…

“Who are you?” Avalyn asked, no longer able to win with her thoughts.

“I am who am, though to others, one can be many things. I am Goel.” He smiled.

(c) Laura Jenkins

Caught In a Cave In

I wrote this poem this afternoon.  I had a burst of inspiration and I quite like the outcome.


Went for a walk through the caves of my life,

Found rocks and webs of madness and strife.

A lake filled with memories I’ve tried to forget,

Moments in time I wished to reset.


Caught in a cave in, no light up ahead,

Life becomes stagnate, gloomy and dead,

Caught in a land slide, the walls closing in,

The war raged with chaos, a fight I can’t win.


Trapped in a cave of bitterness and suspicions,

Locked in by fear and my own lost ambitions.

Hands bloodied from digging, a futile attempt,

Do dig myself free of life’s strife and contempt.


Caught in a cave in, is there light up ahead?

Life bound in shackles, misery and dread,

Caught in a land slide, walls built high by sin,

The chaos advances, regret tumbles in.


Hope becomes despair, the darkness devours,

The dreams I once had tuned to misuse filled hours.

I cry out for mercy as chains bind my life,

My heart stabbed by hurt, I clutch at the knife.


Caught in a cave in, the void looms ahead,

Cries echo around from the past and the dead,

Caught in a land slide, the walls hem me in,

The laughter of chaos cries out, “We shall win!”


A glint of light sets the darkness a fire,

Illuminates my form stuck tight in the mire.

I voice calls my name in love and compassion,

My soul fills with hope, joy and new passion.


Freed from a cave in, now light’s up ahead,

My life, reborn shouts and mocks at the dead.

Freed from a land slide, the walls turn and run,

Chaos defeated the fight He has won.


Pulled from the caves of regret and lost time,

Pulled from the muck, on an up slope I climb.

Fears swept away by His almighty hand,

Heart healed from pain in triumph I stand.


Freed from a cave in, light leads me ahead,

My life is restored no more will I dread.

Freed from a land slide, no walls keep me now,

Covered by grace at His high throne I bow.

Peace Be Still

It doesn’t rhyme, but this is my heart. 

Dedicated to everyone in UCG.  Love you guys.


The world can tumble all around, seas can rise and seas can fall,

But I will listen to that voice, that calmly whispers in my ear.

Peace, be still.

Hate can rage and pain devour, shackles bind and cage me in,

But I will cling to that hand, that gently guides me through it all.

Peace, be still.

Life can take my time and goals, hem me in and not let go,

But I will seek that life so dear, He gave it up to let me live.

Peace, be still.

Though guilt may chase, and sorrows fight, and evil come knocking at my door,

I will stand with the One who guards me, through the all consuming fire.

Peace, be still.

Though family leaves and friends forsake me, though God seems far away,

Through times of joy and times of sadness, I will lean on Him who rules it all.

Peace, be still.

Prison Walls

 This is a poem I wrote back in ’08 about our mind set, (it’s rather rough, but the message is clear). It speaks about the spiritual prisons that we create for ourselves.  These prisons could be fear, doubt, bitterness, hate, guilt, pride, lies and many others.  We build these high walls around ourselves, becoming trapped in a cell of our own making.  The only one who can free us is Christ, yet it takes us forever to finally call out to Him for help.


Held captive by a state of mind,

Is a prison of a different kind. 

One we build ourselves into,

Those who escape the cells are few.


The prison walls are high and stout,

Built over time with fear and doubt.

We cry out from our self built cell,

Not knowing it is we who have made the spells.


The only way you may be saved,

Is to cling to the truth which Christ gave.

For it will break down the walls of any prison,

This truth that Christ died and has risen.

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