Sarah Price's Blog, page 7

You can imagine how my eyes popped out of my head when the preacher at church started talking about murder.

Whoa! I thought. What’s going on here????

Murder is not something you expect to hear discussed in church, that’s for sure and certain. However, I can assure you that my preacher wasn’t talking about physical murder but metaphorical. He was talking about the killing of one’s old self in order to embrace the new.

Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new. 2. Cor 5:17

I like the idea of being a new creature. When I walked into the church, I left a week of YUCK behind me. In fact, when the preacher asked how many people had tried to be better people during the week, I sure was glad that I was in the majority of those who did NOT raise their hands.

You see, I had forgotten about trying to be a better person. It had been a long week of just pedaling. In fact, it was so bad that yesterday I merely collapsed and slept the majority of the day. At night time, I had no problems falling asleep, either. I was exhausted. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually.

Leaving church, I realized that I would happily murder the ME from last week. She didn’t stop to do much of anything godly. Sure, there was laughter and there was fun. There was saving another horse, which is always a great thing. But for the most part, I went about my week without reflecting on all of the blessings that surround me: the farm, the horses, my daughter, my husband, even my son who came for supper.

What can I do this week to improve?

Well, for starters, spending more time (or, rather, TIME) reading Scripture. That always makes me feel good…I’ve just been neglectful of time. There’s always so much to do on the farm: feeding horses, getting hay/grain, fixing fences, grooming horses, working horses, feeding goats, cleaning the house, etc. But we need to take time to find God. That needs to be a better priority in my life.

And I can also take more time to just be. Not work, not hurry about, not panic over how much daylight is left in comparison of how much work still needs to get done. Just be. Be in the moment. Be in the here and now. I’m getting better about doing that, but I can certainly improve.

Finally, I think relying on God more will go a long way in being a better person. Things will get done. Period. I take on an awful lot and, while I don’t see that changing too much, I definitely can turn more of it over to God. Faith will carry me through the crazy days and endless responsibilities. But I don’t have to carry those burdens alone. God can and will help me.

Anyway, those are my thoughts for today.

On a different note, this is a big week coming up. Shattered Mirror is releasing on Tuesday. Don’t forget to preorder. Here’s the Amazon.com link but you can also find it on Walmart.com, Christianbooks.com, BN.com, etc.

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The post Kill the Old, Embrace the New appeared first on Sarah Price.

It’s been not quite three months since I released Annie’s Quilt and the feedback that I’ve received from readers is wonderfully refreshing. I love how my readers reach out to me to share how much they enjoy my books. I thought I would share some of their comments here.

It’s so nice to read something so wholesome.

That’s right. Wholesome.  You remember what that means, right? No sex. No swear words. No yucky stuff. I happen to love writing wholesome stories because I’m tired of everything in the news being about teachers doing terrible things with their students or women being sexually harassed by big, powerful men or horrible things happening to young children. I often wonder what in the world is going on with society! Makes me very thankful that I’m down here in Florida, living on the horse ranch and away from the crowded urban world. We’re isolated and that really helps soothe my soul when I hear horrible things.

So it’s only natural that I would write about wholesome romances. I LOVE good romances. You know, the shy relationships that build up to love. Maybe a hand holding episode along with sweet words and demure glances. To me, that is much more powerful and definitely more romantic than two characters who strip off their clothes and jump into bed. Shudder! 

I’m always impressed about how well you know the Amish…

Out of respect for the other authors in this genre, I’m leaving off the rest of the compliment. However, I know that this is true. I do know the Amish because I’ve been involved with them for thirty years now. My family on my father’s side is Mennonite, too. My entire life has been filled with Anabaptist values and culture and religion.

While I don’t claim to be a Mennonite, nor do I think I’m an expert on the Amish, I’m very happy to share my knowledge with my readers (and, apparently, a few authors who like to borrow from my books). In Annie’s Quilt as well as Becky’s Quilt, you’ll be interested to learn a little more about the individualism  that is embraced among the Amish. I think a lot of people view them as being cut from the same cookie-cutter mold. But some Amish are very opinionated, very passionate, very driven, or even very shy.

Gasp! You mean they are individuals? Like real people?

Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.

I always thought Amish had arranged marriages.

There are no arranged marriages. At least not that I know of. Of course, what you may not know is that there are different types of Amish. Some are more conservative while others are more liberal. Given that I haven’t meant all of the Amish communities in the United States, I imagine that there could be communities where parents heavily suggest specific partners (just as some non-Amish parents do). But, like Annie in Annie’s Quilt, women typically decide who they will or won’t marry. It helps if the marriage benefits the family, but the pressure is definitely limited. Annie’s opinions about the type of man she wants to marry are clearly her own and she’s determined to stick to her plans…until she meets Gideon, that is.

Have you read Annie’s Quilt yet? If not, here’s the link for it. And remember that even if you don’t own a Kindle, you can use the free iCloud reader on most laptops, computers, and phones.  Just download the app and away you go.  

Oh the evils of addiction. Not only does it control the addict’s life but it ruins the lives of those people who care about that person.

Shattered Mirror releases next week (click the link to preorder it).

Shattered Mirror is a novel about a woman who is trying to survive her son’s drug addiction. But there are other stories woven into the novel. One in particular, Michael Stevens, is a story about another young man addicted to drugs. In fact, Michael is the one who introduced Kelly’s son, Zach, to prescription drugs.

This is a story that needs to be highlighted as much as Kelly and Zach’s. You see, Michael’s mother knows that her son is a drug addict. But, like so many other parents, she denies it. There are many reasons why parents deny their children’s addiction to _________ (fill in the blank: drugs, alcohol, gaming, sex, etc.). It’s easier to turn a blind eyes to the addiction or even deny the addiction than to try to fix it.

You see, in trying to fix the problem, you have to look at what actually caused it. Addiction doesn’t just happen. A healthy, happy, well-rounded child doesn’t usually decide–on his or her own!–to start taking drugs. No one wakes up and wants to become an addict. But it doesn’t just happen.

In Zach’s case, his addiction came from low self-esteem which led him to not have many friends…the perfect victim for Michael to prey upon. Michael, however, lived in a house where the mother was an alcoholic. Facing the truth about her son would mean having to face the truth about herself. And no addicted parents who isn’t interested in treatment is going to want to deal with that truth. Why would they? In order to get their child clean, they’d have to attend meetings, get rid of booze from the house, and probably fess up that she, too, was an addict.

So what happens? The young son grows up watching his mother drink too much. Perhaps she neglected her son, whether emotionally or maternally. He begins to self-medicate by stealing her drugs from the medicine cabinet–yes, doctor prescribed drugs, not illegal drugs found on the streets. Maybe she notices. Maybe she doesn’t. But he realizes that it’s more fun to take those medications if you mix them with booze–which there is plenty of in his house. It’s also more fun to have someone else to party with. Hello Zach!

There are many reasons why kids start experimenting with drugs and alcohol. Often it is because they are emulating their parents’ behavior. Other times it’s because they are not monitored carefully, parents have too much trust in them, boundaries are not set up properly, or parents are simply too busy with their own lives to parent their child. There are dozens of other reasons, but these are the main reasons that are discussed in the novel.

The best way to deal with drug addiction is to never let your child start using drugs or alcohol. By the time parents realize that their child is doing drugs, it’s often too late to stop the cycle of addiction. But denying the problem will never solve it. Facing it head on is the only way that addiction can be resolved…and often only if the individual is willing to work at it.

For anyone that you know who is going through drug addiction, please get them a copy of this book. Let them know that they are not alone. Having battled for one of my children, I know how lonely it can be. Unlike Kelly, I had my husband to help me through the terrible years. Yes. YEARS. Some days, I don’t know how he managed to maintain his sanity, especially since it was his stepchild, not physical child. I know that, had the shoe been on the other foot, I very well might have walked away–that’s how bad it was.

And, truth be told, some parents DO walk away, leaving their child to suffer on their own. I get it. You see, living with a drug addict is a life of 24/7 emotional turmoil with many, many bad days and very, very few good days. It’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure.

Michael Stevens’ mother clearly “walked” even if only metaphorically. But Zach’s mother, Kelly Martin, did not. Hopefully, this book will help those who choose to fight for their children. And maybe it will open up the eyes of the other people in their lives…the people who love them but just don’t know what to do.

Shattered Mirror…because that’s exactly what your life feels like when you are living with an addict.

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The post Drug Addiction: Satan’s Game appeared first on Sarah Price.

Let’s have an honest talk here. Just me and you. No one else needs to know that we are having this chat.

But it’s an important talk.

You see, whether or not you know it, someone in your sphere of life is an addict.

Drugs. Booze. Gaming. Sex. Money. Work. Whatever it is, addiction intrudes on our lives. It ruins relationships. It kills friendships. Destroys marriages. Tears apart families.

The worst part is that a lot of people do not admit it is happening. Some might admit it to themselves but try to hide it. And others just ignore it. After all, if you ignore it, maybe it will go away. Right?

Wrong!!!!!

My upcoming new release from Waterfall Press, Shattered Mirror, might be one of the most important novels that I’ve published. You see, addiction is not just about the addict but also the families, friends, community, and society. But people don’t talk about it.

And we should.

In this novel, Kelly Martin finds herself trying to save her son from the dark world of addiction. Unfortunately, she quickly realizes that she’s fighting for his life without the support of the very people who should care the most.

Sound improbable? It’s not. I lived through this story and, while my husband and parents were very supportive, I can reassure you that they were in the minority. Other family members made numerous promises to help or reach out but never did. Some didn’t want to hear about it, afraid it was contagious. And still others refused to believe that it could happen in their own homes.

Shattered Mirror is a must-read. People must realize that they are not alone from the evil horror of addiction. When their lives fall to pieces, there is hope for repurposing the shards and surviving life in the darkness of addiction.

I’ll be posting a few blogs over the upcoming weeks about addiction and this novel. In the meantime, I encourage you to preorder it and also recommend it to your friends and family. It’s one of those books that could literally save a life.

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Going to any animal adoption is a dangerous thing for me. I’m surprised that anyone in my family let’s me within ten miles of adoption events.

So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I returned from North Carolina with a new addition to my herd.

She is #3755. That’s her tag number because I haven’t announced her name yet. Stay tuned, my impatient peeps.

She is a 19-year-old burro from Teels Marsh outside Marietta, Nevada. These burros used to work in the salt mines from 1860 to the late 1890s. When the mines closed, the miners let the Burros free.

Kind of a bittersweet thought. They worked hard. Booooo. Suddenly they are free. Yay!!!!! But how to survive????? Booooo.

They must have been bewildered to just be turned loose. Makes my heart hurt to think about it. But, of course, I’m putting human emotion in the world of wild burros.

Hmmmmm. Is it possible that they feel similar emotions?

I sure believe so.

This burro chose me. I had no intentions of adopting another fur baby. But I was eyeballing a few chocolate burros when this old gal walked up and put her nose on my hand.

My heart melted, especially when I saw how old she is. Who adopts a 19-year-old??????

Me, that’s who.

And she will earn her keep.

Did you know burros are excellent guard animals? They naturally do not trust or like dog-like animals (think foxes, coyotes…) and will charge them, braying loudly and even striking with their hooves.

Hired!

It will be interesting to see how it goes because I’ve never tamed a wild horse or burro. I usually leave that up to my daughter, the mustang whisperer, Cat. But I wanted to throw my hat into the ring so that I’m not left on the sidelines.

So I’ll keep you all posted how #3755 and I do in the upcoming days. Lots of videos on FB, IG, and here on my blog. Stay tuned. ❤️

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And so it begins!

Today is the first day of the Extreme Mustang Makeover in Lexington, Kentucky. My 16-year-old daughter, Cat, is competing in her sixth competition. Well, fifth since her second mustang had to scratch at the last minute due to surgery for colic.

I’m nervous for all of the competitors. They have spent 100 days training wild mustangs for this weekend. And a lot goes into taming and training these magnificent creatures.

One of the things I love about the Extreme Mustang Makeover is the other competitors. Some of them are so kind and helpful, helping each other and cheering them on. This year, in the adult division, I’m really happy to get to know the Wadmans even more. Kaitlyn is competing with Slick, a gorgeous black mustang that I would adopt in a heartbeat! Unfortunately, my husband and daughter would have a thing or two to say about that.

In six hours (9:30pm), we are leaving for Kentucky. After 100+ days, it is time for Cat and her yearling mustang, Beau, to have their moment in the spotlight.

It’s been a long haul. Cat says that time has flown by. For me, it seems as if Beau has been part of the herd for much longer than three months.

The Mustang Heritage Foundation has done a wonderful job of creating a program to rescue, train, and regime these amazing creatures while educating people about the true majestic nature of these horses that roam free in the west of the United States. And I’m proud to announce that both Cat and I have become lifetime members of their organization.

I can honestly say that breast cancer led us to the mustangs. It was during my post cancer treatment when I took Cat to her dream place (cough cough—Los Angeles) when we learned about the Mustang Heritage Foundation. On a trail ride that took us through the hills outside of LA, our guide told us about the program. Cat listened intensively, never saying a word. But she researched it and a few months later asked if she could apply for the Youth Division of the Extreme Mustang Makeover.

Little did I realize how much that moment would change our lives and cement her future.

The Mustang Heritage Foundation and the Bureau of Land Management work together to create these exciting programs for adults and for youth. I can speak about the transformation in Cat from first hand experience. Taming and training these mustangs is no easy feat. There have been tears, arguments, moments of defeat. But through it all, faith has brought both of us through it.

I’m not going to try to deny that going to these competitions isn’t stressful. On the one hand, you only want what is best for every single horse and competitor. It’s sad when you see horses that haven’t reached their full potential. Some horses are harder to train than others. And some trainers don’t really know what they are doing.. A few train for the competition instead of training the horse properly. But, for the most part, the trainers really do love these horses and focus on training them in a way that they can be placed in forever homes.

I credit the Mustang Heritage Foundation and the Bureau of Land Management for continuing to support these horses and trainers through the programs they offer jointly. It’s a wonderful experience for anyone fortunate enough to participate. What I hope that each trainer learns is what we have learned.

First of all, mustangs are not like every other horse. They need to be trained with patience and by developing trust. Methods that include hog-tying them or “breaking” them right away can be disastrous. Most horses could not survive in the wild. Mustangs can. They have developed a sixth sense about survival. And a seventh sense about not trusting people. Trying to force a mustang to be trained right away is not “training” but “breaking” a horse in the most literal sense of the word.

Second, being able to gain that trust can be life changing. Over the years, I’ve watched several youth trainers overcome self-esteem issues and learn to grow as confident individuals. Horses do not judge based on size, shape, color, or the size of a trust fund. If they are loved, they will love back. They are the most loyal animal that I have ever met and been fortunate enough to include in our family.

Third, good mustang trainers learn that you need to give in order to get. In today’s society where so many young people are takers, living a life of entitlement with helicopters swooping into the rescue whenever the chips are down, a real mustang trainer learns that you cannot expect anyone to owe you anything. At the end of the day, it comes down to what YOU are made of. What is YOUR true character?

And with that comes the realization that you cannot blame others for your failures. Too often young people blame others for how they feel or if they fail. No. In the world of mustang training, you have to look at yourself at the end of the day. If the horse learns well, you did a great job. If the horse doesn’t, well…what could you have done better?

This program is not one that is for the faint of heart. It’s a commitment. Not just in the 90 or 100 days of training, but in the creation of life long possibilities for that horse.

And isn’t that a great lesson for people to learn? It’s not something taught in high schools or even college. But through the hard blood, sweat, and tears of accepting this responsibility to tame and train these mustangs, the trainers learn the true meaning of giving back. It’s not about them, but the mustangs.

So as we get ready to embark on our journey to Kentucky, I’m reminded that it’s not about who wins the competition but how the horses have already won…and their trainers along with them. For that matter, the parents have also won by supporting their children while letting them take their lumps. It does no one any good to have parents swoop in to rescue their children at each obstacle along the way. Only through facing these obstacles will they be able to overcome them.

Hopefully these young trainers have learned this important lesson and, in the process, taught their mustangs that you don’t have to have wings to soar.

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I can boast having two lifelong dreams: becoming a published (and loved!) author and living in a farm.

It took me almost fifty years but I can happily say that I have achieved both dreams.

Prior to being an author, I worked in Corporate America—or, as I like to call it, CorpRATe America. It’s a rat race and I hated it. My last job was at a university. I was a full-time faculty member and I also managed all faculty development.

Let me start by saying that I LOVED my students and I adored (most) faculty there. I’m still good friends with some of them. The problem came in the form of the owners and their puppets.

I detest “yes” people. There is another term for them that involves donkeys and lips, but I’ll stop there. In Corporate America, too many people are scrambling for the top. While I appreciate the drive for ambitious gains, I detest people who lose their scruples in the process.

People should help each other. Many people are willing to step on others, leaving a battlefield of bodies behind them in their quest for superiority at corporations.

So when I developed breast cancer, I was thrilled to be gone from the septic toxicity of the “rat” race.

Of course, being an author isn’t all rosy either. Other authors and artists are competitive, willing to have me promote and partner with them but very few reciprocate. When I would push others, I realized that they hardly ever even mentioned me. I wasn’t raised like that. It was enough to make me want to become a recluse.

So when the opportunity came up for relocating “off the grid”, I was more than ready to jump on the simpler life.

No more rush hour traffic. No more silly meetings. And, even better, I could wake up each morning to the sound of roosters crowing, horses neighing and, of course, Rosie the donkey impatiently braying for her breakfast.

I planned on gardening—growing my own food. I spent days repairing fences and building a new barn. Seeing the product of my blood, sweat, and tears had its own rewards. Even when sometimes unappreciated by others (

Today at church, the pastor’s sermon started out on a topic that I was very interested in: the demise of society. Unfortunately, he took it in a different direction and I sat there on the bench, feeling disappointed. Not necessarily in his sermon—for what he said was about having faith in God and God delivers on promises—but in what he didn’t say.

The pastor opened his sermon, mentioning how important the church is for children. In particular, the Rafter Cross Cowboy Church has a wonderful summer Kids Rodeo program (or camp…I’m still having issues always understanding the southern accent around here) and the pastor mentioned how the kids involved with the rodeo were not hanging around town and getting in trouble all summer. That church was a safe place, a place where people don’t have to worry about keeping up with the Jones or peer pressure.

Amen.

Now, had I been delivering the sermon (cough cough…enter Reverand Dr. Price), at this point, I’d have gone down a different path.

Something is happening in our society that is festering raw wounds. As wounds fester, they infect the other skin around them. It’s ugly and yucky, unable to heal quickly or, in some cases, at all.

I believe this is the sin of entitlement.

Let me give you a perfect example.

The previous evening, Cat and I took her yearling, Beau, to the Williston Horsemans’ Association to watch barrel racing. I laugh that Cat was my date and Beau was hers. The parking areas were packed with truck and trailers. But there was one spot open between two trailers. Perfect. Not too far away and certainly not on the edge of the woods (where it was really dark).

When I pulled into the spot, three older women (not youths, mind you) started giving us dirty looks. Like seriously hostile looks. I had no idea why. After all, there was plenty of room on both sides of us.

PLENTY of room.

Cat gets out of the trailer and one of the women makes a comment to her. A not-so-nice comment from the looks of the scowl on her face. Cat said nothing in response and went about her business. I, of course, asked Cat what happened.

“She said something about her horses’ kick,” Cat responded. “As if I was going to walk up to them.” Roll of the eyes.

No sooner had we taken Beau out of the trailer before another woman rode up and stared at our truck. She obviously knew the other three women and began griping about not wanting to ride her horse in between her trailer and ours. Again, mind you, there was a good seven or so feet between us.

Maybe more.

“I got a stud here,” she snapped at me. “Can you move your trailer back?”

I must have just stared at her.

“Those mares’re in heat. They’ll kick your trailer and he might, too.”

Let’s dissect this.

Clearly the reason no one had parked in this spot was because they had chased everyone else away. To avoid a confrontation, I did move my trailer. I’m the first person to support safety, but I would’ve reacted with less grumbling under my breath if they had only been nice about it.

But they weren’t nice. They had their own agenda and didn’t give a rat’s butt if other people were inconvenienced. In my mind, if a stud horse was rambunctious, why on earth would you park right in the middle of the lot? And if the three mares were kickers and/or in heat and/or so poorly behaved that they needed a 24-foot gap between their trailer and another one, why park in the middle of the lot?

The answer is entitlement.

People feel that things are owed to them, even at the risk of inconveniencing other people. They believe that they inherently deserve special privileges or treatment with little or no regard to others—usually the latter. They rarely give back, unless there is something in it for them. They are takers and prey upon givers.

And I do believe that they are predators.

Too often I’ve been at the mercy of these self-centered people. In hindsight, it’s my own fault. I give too much. I believe too much. I help too much. The problem is that people with self-centered entitlement issues look for people like me.

I’ve had several recent situations dealing with entitled narcissists. In all of these cases, I was treated with little to no respect until something I had or could give back was needed or wanted. They approach situations with the expectation that something is owed to them. Those women were owed that extra space even if it meant no one else could park there. They deserved it because there were better than everyone else.

Over time, resentment builds and, in some cases, situations deteroriate. Forget trying to confront them about the situation. They will never see your perspective. Why should they? In fact, some of them make up their own narrative…a false one at that. And, as a result, they start burning bridges with people.

What they don’t realize is that burning bridges are hard to repair.

Now, Jesus tells us to forgive others. Let’s not confuse forgiveness with self-preservation. We can forgive others from hurting us, but that doesn’t mean we have to keep letting them walk all over us.

Children (and adults) need to learn to be held accountable for their actions, words, and deeds. Too many parents coddle their children, fighting their battles even into adulthood. In fact, many of the parents demonstrate the same, ungrateful and selfish behavior that their children have. Can you imagine what type of behavior the children of those three women have?

I’m not certain when or how this cycle of self-importance escalated into a generation of entitlement, but I do know that there is only one way to stop it. Stand up for yourself, say no and don’t let yourself be manipulated. But do it with as much kindness as you can. Pray that your behavior is contagious and helps the other to see the error of their way, do not engage but, rather, move on. Remove the festering wound from your body by focusing your attention on helping people who are appreciative, not those who expect your help without any sort of gratitude.

The sin of entitlement is a war raging through our society. The only way to fight it is to ensure our children learn to the difference between a privilege and a right. And, as far as the privilege goes, teach them how to be respectful, appreciative, and genuinely grateful whenever anyone does something kind to them.

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That doesn’t mean I don’t like onions. But I pick and choose when I eat onions. I certainly don’t want onion breath if I’m going to a book signing or speaking before a group of readers or writers.

These days, the media is so full of opinions that I’m fairly convinced they ALL eat onions! And not just a dinner. For breakfast and lunch. Why do I say that? Because their opinions stink

That’s right. They stink.

When I watch the news, I want facts, not oniony opinions. Years ago, I used to write for several small town newspapers. My opinion didn’t matter; I just stuck to the facts.

As an author, I have to be very cautious about sharing my opinion publicly. While I can claim being an expert on certain topics: writing, publishing, marketing, and (of course) the Amish, outside of that sphere is beyond my sphere of influence.

Or rather, it should be.

While traveling to NYC for the BookCon book signing, I read an article about Stephen King. In my youth, I read a few of his books and I have enjoyed some of his movies (think Misery). What I don’t enjoy is his espousing political opinions.

He’s an author. A good author. But I don’t want to hear his political views. What is his expertise that makes him think people want to hear his political grousing?

The same goes for any other quasi-celebrity (or celebrity!). Most of these people regurgitate the opinions from the mainstream media (regardless of their position). To what purpose do they reiterate such drivel? Their intent is to use their success to sway others.

I find that reprehensible.

Personally, I stay quiet about my beliefs on a lot of matters. And I respect other people who have different beliefs…political, religious, cultural. But I do not want to have anyone without a background or expertise in the topic trying to shove anything—even what I agree with!—down my throat.

Stephen King, Rosanne Barr, Meryl Streep, Robert DeNiro… go back to what you do best. Your status does not grant you any authority over any matter other than entertaining others.

As for me, I’ll continue writing my books and blogs while leaving the opinions of others at the front door.

But that’s just my opinion.