About Lynne

6357617When my husband and my oldest son told me I was going to have to write a biography of myself for our web page, I have to be honest with you—I panicked. It wasn’t that I didn’t have anything to say (that rarely happens), it was more that I preferred not to. The older I get, the more private I become, along with a mildly growing case of germophobia. So when I started to protest, both of my guys looked at me with that “here she goes again look”. Obviously, I was not taking this seriously enough and, in my family, that usually means I am getting ready to be enlightened.

Sure enough, my son said, “Fine, mom. You can be one of those “shadow writers”, who lives in the “shadow lands”. No one will know anything about you, so they probably won’t buy your books.” O.k. … that did it. I definitely didn’t want anyone to think I lived a “shadowy” existence, even though it really didn’t sound that bad to me. So, I told my son I would write the bio, but that it would most likely not be what they were expecting. I agreed to splay open my life (I needed to sound a little dramatic at that moment so I could still feel like I was the grown-up parent) no matter how uncomfortable it made me, and then pray that I didn’t sound too odd or just plain weird. So, here it is.

I was born and raised in Central Florida back in the good old days when orange trees covered every square inch of open space and Disney World was every child’s California dream. Thanks to my mother, I was raised with a book in my hand and an unquenchable (though rather dramatic) thirst to express my creative side. As a result, you could say I was a bit of a handful. From as far back as I can remember I was writing and drawing, pouring out my thoughts in reams of diaries that had pretty gilded pages and very ineffectual, small locks. (I found this out one day when I caught my older brother reading it!) Anyway, my love for the written word was very evident. I was, and still am, a voracious and eclectic reader. If a book isn’t in my hand, then it is usually because I am writing one.

On to high school …. The most important thing that happened to me in my teen years was that I personally, and for the first time, met Jesus. The funny thing was I thought I had always known Him. I was a very spiritual child, and I truly loved to pray. I could talk to God for hours, and I know that I heard His voice speaking to me. But even though I was raised in a wonderful church, I had never really asked Jesus to be my personal Savior—not until I was seventeen. After that, my life was never the same, for which I am eternally grateful.

My love of reading and writing took me to a large southern college where I majored in English and Religion. (WAR EAGLE! Sorry… I just had to throw that in.) It was a double major with a minor in creative writing. I will never forget one of my professors who read my first college short story…although I really wish I could. When he handed me back my paper, he had the oddest expression on his face—almost sympathetic. All he said was, “Are you sure you are in the right major?” What the heck? Of course I was in the right major! It was the only major. And then I saw my grade. Hmm… maybe I needed to do a little soul searching. So I did. I prayed and wrote and wrote and prayed and tried to memorize all the Old Testament I could in my spare time. Then, it just happened; a knowing deep within my spirit that I truly was purposed to write, and since God gave me the talent, only He could take it away.

At that moment, I gave my Lord everything, and asked that the Holy Spirit be my teacher— not Dr. Knowitall. It worked. After a year or so I was even published in a few minor things and had Dr. Knowitall eating his own tacky words. I felt vindicated, and actually got on a bit of my “high horse”. Now, as I look back and ruminate, I realize that the Father must have been slowly shaking His head at me just like a loving parent does when confronted with a child that has grown a tad bit too big for her britches. Little did I realize that my Teacher was far from done with me and that just because I was now out of college and in the real world—no longer subjected to the Dr. Knowitall’s of academia—I no longer needed to be taught. After all, now I could write! Wow, did my little self contained bubble ever get popped.

Although I’m pretty sure my next revelation is common knowledge, I still feel compelled to state it.

I have not won a Pulitzer.

That is, not yet. But what man knows the mind of God? Now wouldn’t that be a hoot? Let’s just say I’m still praying about it, even though I thought I had a fairly good chance with a piece I had been working on since my first year out of college. As of yet, no one has offered to pick it up, much less pay for the privilege. But I continued to write, working for a Christian non-profit inner city organization. I must say my grant proposal writing was pretty awesome, and God was so gracious. The only reason I left a job that was actually paying me to write (even though it wasn’t the latest/greatest American novel) was to get married—and not just to anybody. I was so blessed to marry the man whose name is literally smeared in beginner’s cursive throughout my diaries. My husband and I have been married since 1980, but he has literally been my sweetheart since the second grade.

After our wedding, we moved to Ft. Worth, Texas. This born and bred Florida girl fell asleep east of the Mississippi and woke up thinking she had been hijacked to another planet. (Obviously by now, you have probably guessed I never traveled much.) Even though I didn’t know a soul and my new hubby deserted me the next morning for his job at a large aerospace company, I fell in love with Texas that very first afternoon when I saw the most spectacular sunset God had ever painted. It truly took my breath away. Add to that some of the most interesting and kind people I had ever met, and this little Southern girl started feeling right at home. Then, not three months after we were married, I realized I was pregnant and there wasn’t a family member in sight.

Now, here is the opening up part.

I  wasn’t supposed to be pregnant! I had a new job (once again being paid to write grant proposals), a honeymoon to go on, a life-plan that stated pregnancies would occur four to five years after we said ‘I do’, and the determination to try out my parenting skills first on a new puppy. I did not want to subject any of our offspring to a mom who had never even held a new born baby. But, Jesus had other plans, and I have to admit, I just didn’t understand what He was doing.

Not six weeks into the pregnancy, I miscarried. I had no one there with me—my husband was at work, and my family was all in Florida. Let’s just say I didn’t take it very well, and to this day I get excited when I think about seeing my child one day in Heaven. My only outlet was writing and praying. My husband, bless his heart, just didn’t know what to do. I continued to pray and write. Then, one night, I had a true “come-apart” with my Lord. At the end of my broken heart and more broken babbling, I, once again, gave Jesus everything. I remember like it was yesterday telling Him that I didn’t know when I wanted another child. That losing this one had hurt so much, that I didn’t know when to try and have another one. Finally, I told Him that I put my body, my dreams and my future all into His hands, and He could be the one who decided when and if I had any more children. Less than two months later, I was pregnant again. And thus began my deep love for children—all kinds, shapes, color and sizes.

My first son was born the following spring, and then, almost two years and one month to the day, my second son came laughing into the world. The joke was on me…. To heck with all my grandiose plans. The moment I held my second son in my arms, I knew I really only wanted one thing: to be a good mom. But please Lord, let me be a mom who would still have the time to write.

So, it’s been over 30 years, and that’s still the desire of my heart— to be a mom and someday, a grandmom, who has the time to write and write and write. But now I want to tell you about my passion, for that, I believe, is what affects you as a reader of my novels—both children, pre-teen, teen and adult.

I am consumed with the need to instill into the hearts of young and old alike the reality of the power of God’s Word. I feel more than compelled; I have an urgency in my spirit, especially in regard to children, to make the Word of God so real and so naturally a part of their lives and their speech, that when a crisis arises, big or small, their first and most natural line of defense will be in speaking The Word. We must teach our children that they are not to put their faith in the wisdom of men, for man is fallible. Instead, their faith should rest in the power of God, and that power resides in speaking His Word in authority, realizing it will never fail. The Word of God is truth, strength, unbeatable and totally supreme. We, as children of God, no matter our age, are filled with the might of our Savior. I am so tired of “the world” seeing Christians as weak little weenies that cry out “defeated” under the slightest pressure. That is just so wrong!

When I write a book, I want to make sure that the reader comes away stronger, bolder, braver—filled with the awesomeness of the demonstration of the power of God. In every work, I will give you the scriptures needed to teach your child (and yourself) how to defeat fear, worry and anxiety. I will strive to instill the passion and joy of being a child of the Living God—a warrior in the kingdom of Heaven, a conqueror instead of one who expects to be conquered. In doing this, I will also reveal the reality of spiritual warfare.

Here’s another pet peeve: God’s angels are not fat little babies draped in loin cloths, or vaporous spirits floating on clouds playing harps. They are warriors. They are our protectors. They perform the Word of The Lord. They are not subject to this world or to the one who rules it. In essence, angels can kick fanny, and very frequently do so on our behalf. There again, I so greatly desire for people to understand this. Angels have charge over the lives of God’s children, and I fear we have failed to teach this very simple truth; but not anymore! I’m on a mission, and I pray in reading my books, you will be, too. Evil and all its ramifications is so very real, and it is time we teach our children once and for all how to recognize it and defeat it. The Angelwalk Valley series will do exactly that, in both the children and pre-teen reading levels; my adult and teen novels even more so.

I believe that together, we can empower ourselves and our children. Because after all, no weapon formed against us will prosper—and I’m determined to make that truth this generation’s battle cry!