Roseanna White - Roseanna M. White

Christian Fiction Scavenger Hunt Stop #17

by Roseanna White | Mar 14, 2019 | Giveaways and Contests, Scavenger Hunt

Welcome to the Christian Fiction Scavenger Hunt! If you’ve just discovered the hunt, be sure to start at Stop #1, and collect the clues through all 27 stops, in order, so you can enter to win one of our top 5 grand prizes!

The hunt BEGINS on 3/14 at noon MST with Stop #1 at LisaTawnBergren.com.
Hunt through our loop using Chrome or Firefox as your browser (not Explorer).
There is NO RUSH to complete the hunt—you have all weekend (until Sunday, 3/17 at midnight MST)! So take your time, reading the unique posts along the way; our hope is that you discover new authors/new books and learn new things about them.
Submit your entry for the grand prizes by collecting the CLUE on each author’s scavenger hunt post and submitting your answer in the Rafflecopter form at Stop #27. Many authors are offering additional prizes along the way!

I’m so honored to be hosting the amazing Sarah Sundin! Sarah is a prolific writer of WW2 fiction, and I’ve been reading her books for years. Not only is she a fabulous story teller, however, she’s also a genuinely lovely person. I’ve met her a few times at various conferences and chatted via email, and I can’t wait to share some information about her latest book, The Sky Above Us!

Burdened by his past, fighter pilot Lt. Adler Paxton battles the
Luftwaffe over Nazi-occupied Europe as the Allies struggle for control
of the air before D-day. Deprived of her missionary dreams, Violet
Lindstrom serves in the Red Cross, where she arranges activities at
Adler’s air base in England. Love blooms, but D-day draws near . . . and
secrets can’t stay buried forever.

And now without further ado, here’s Sarah!

A Donut and a Smile—Life in the Red Cross in World War II

American Red Cross worker serves coffee and doughnuts to members of the 379th Bomb Group at an improvised refreshment stand in England, 5 January 1944 (Source: US National Archives)

The women of the World War II era fascinate us—with good reason! In The Sky Above Us, I highlighted the American Red Cross workers who ran Aeroclub recreational clubs at US airfields around England.

By February 1945, the American Red Cross in England ran 162 Aeroclubs (at airfields), Fleet Clubs (naval bases), Camp Clubs (Army bases), and Donut Dugouts (training bases).

The Aeroclubs gave the men a homey place to relax from the pressures of war. In each Aeroclub, the Red Cross ran a snack bar, writing room, library, game room, and lounge. They arranged dances and recreational activities from Ping-Pong tournaments to lecture series. When the airmen returned from combat missions, the Red Cross served donuts, coffee, and sandwiches.

Sign for an American Red Cross Donut Dugout in World War II, Utah Beach D-Day Museum, Sainte Marie du Mont, France, September 2017 (Photo: Sarah Sundin)

Each Aeroclub was run by one to three ARC women, who were paid civilian workers. The Red Cross hired British women and recruited volunteers to staff the clubs, and they negotiated with Army departments and British ministries to obtain equipment, food, and coal.

The women who served overseas with the American Red Cross had to be at least twenty-five and have a college degree. They were chosen for their leadership skills and for their willingness to work in difficult and dangerous conditions. Since Allied airfields were legitimate targets for German bombers, the threat was real.

Poster for the American Red Cross in World War II (public domain)

Although the official hours of the Aeroclub were usually 3 pm until midnight, the doors were always open. The Red Cross girls woke early to start preparations—and stayed up past closing. The women reported working six to seven days a week. Definitely long and hard hours!

Despite the difficulties, the average Red Cross worker loved her job! Not only was it adventurous, but she was providing services that helped the flyboys fight another day. Very rewarding!

About Sarah

Sarah Sundin is the bestselling author of historical novels, including The Sea Before Us and The Sky Above Us. Her novels When Tides Turn and Through Waters Deep were named to Booklist’s “101 Best Romance Novels of the Last 10 Years,” and Through Waters Deep was a finalist for the 2016 Carol Award and won the INSPY Award. A mother of three, Sarah lives in California. Please visit her at www.sarahsundin.com, on Facebook at @SarahSundinAuthor, and on Twitter at @sarahsundin.

Here’s the Stop #17 Skinny:

You can order Sarah’s book on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, CBD or at your local bookstore!

Clue to Write Down: their

Link to Stop #18, the Next Stop on the Loop: Sarah Sundin’s own site!

And of course, I can’t let you go without a giveaway! As you saw on stop #16, I’m featuring The Number of Love in this hunt, and though the book isn’t out quite yet, as soon it is, I’ll be sending a signed copy to one reader!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Word of the Week – Stationary and Stationery

by Roseanna White | Mar 11, 2019 | Word of the Week

Okay, this one is really cool, guys! I’ve long known that stationary (meaning “not moving”) and stationery (meaning “writing materials”) were homophones and that the one with the a was the adjective and the one with the e had to do with writing letters.

But did you know they were related? I just learned this, and it’s a cool story!

So, in the 1700s, most people who were selling things in London would set up stalls in the streets. Many were only permitted to stay in one location for a short time before they’d have to move their stalls. But others had special licenses to stay in one spot indefinitely–to remain stationary. Because they were stationary, they came to be called stationers.

Many of these stationary merchants sold writing goods outside the law offices. And so, because the writing supplies came from stationers, the lawyers began calling it stationery.

Pretty fun, huh? The different spellings have been fixed since the early 1800s.

Thoughtful About . . . Fasting

by Roseanna White | Mar 5, 2019 | Thoughtful Thursdays

Given that today is Mardi Gras and tomorrow begins Lent with Ash Wednesday, I decided to bump my usual Thursday post up a few days to talk about something relevant to the season.

Fasting.

I find the modern take on fasting very curious. There are those who do it because it’s obligatory, especially this time of year. There are those who refuse to do it because it has traditionally been obligatory. There are those who will fast a day here and there for really special occasions, when they need to be dedicated to prayer, and there are those who fast regularly throughout the year. I’m probably missing some. But you get the picture. Fasting, in our modern age, is all over the board.

So, first, what is fasting? Quite simply, an abstaining. Most often from it’s food, but it could be from anything, specifically something that brings us pleasure. The idea of the fast is to deny yourself something you are accustomed to, enjoy, or even crave. Why? In part to remind you to pray. In part to suffer (yes, that’s right). And in part to create discipline.

I did a lot of pondering on fasting last year when my husband and I decided jointly to do a very traditional Lenton fast. In the past, I’d occasionally given something up for Lent. But it had never been as hard as this. Those forty days stretched on forever this time. And that made me thoughtful about it.

I know that fasting isn’t always looked upon with favor these days. And that it really isn’t recommended for a lot of people. But I have to say that I learned so much–about myself, about my faith, about the purpose of this practice–when I did this.

First of all, yes, it did remind me to pray. Because hunger has a way of sharpening us. Every time my belly growls, I think about why I’m hungry. But it was so much more than that.

And it was more because it was hard. When I was hungry and just wanted to give up on this whole thing, I would think, “All I’m doing is not eating until a given hour of the day. What is that compared to what Christ did for me? How hungry was He in the wilderness, when He didn’t eat at all for forty days? How much did He suffer in those weeks leading up to the crucifixion, when He knew what was coming? He did that for me. For us. And I’m complaining about going a few hours?”

Our modern world isn’t big on suffering (ahem). Not only do we not want it, but we’re also very cynical about the forms of it that have traditionally been invited. Oh, we recognize the value of physical exercise, even though it might hurt. But something like fasting? Um, no. Many of us, especially Protestants, not only don’t participate, but we look down on those who do as being not as strong in the faith, if they feel the need to do obligatory things.

But here’s the thing. We will suffer in life. This is guaranteed. It will come. And how will we handle it when it does? Part of the point of a fast is to have created in ourselves a discipline and a strength. Just like with exercise, we condition ourselves to withstand discomfort and pain. We condition ourselves so that when a true trial comes, our spiritual muscles aren’t completely unaccustomed to it.

And then there’s temptation.

Last year, I had homeschool group the first Thursday of every month. One of the things my group always had available was a breakfast the moms could come in and grab between classes. And that particular month, there were some delicious-looking options. I wanted to get something. It looked yummy. It was a temptation–a mild one, really. I mean, a donut isn’t sinful. It’s not forbidden in general. It was just something I’d decided not to eat for forty days.

But as I sat there not eating it but really wanting to eat it, I realized this was practice. This was training myself–if I can resist small temptations, then I’ll have trained myself to resist bigger ones. Ones that actually matter.

What’s the point of all this musing? Certainly not to say, “You must fast!” I’d never say that. I fully believe this sort of thing is between us and God. But I will say, “Maybe you should consider it, ask God if there’s something He’d like you to give up for a while.” Spiritual exercise, discipline-crafting. We recognize the value of doing that for our physical bodies. Why not our spiritual ones?

And I will also say this: it seems that when fasting is part of a requirement, people get creative in finding ways to bend it. That totally defeats the purpose. Yes, it’s hard. It’s supposed to be. If you’re bending “rules” to make it more manageable, then you’re defeating the purpose. Kinda like when I lay there on the workout bench doing nothing but still count it as part of my thirty minutes. ? (Not that I ever do that, ahem. LOL)

Maybe you fast sometimes. Maybe you don’t. Maybe, like I’ve done in the past, you give up something for Lent. Or maybe you think that’s legalistic and not embracing grace. Maybe you give up food for specific times, or maybe you can’t give up food for medical reasons and instead give up television or fiction or something else. Whatever your opinion, I thought today would be a good day to ponder the practice as a whole.

It’s something Jesus did. Something Paul and the disciples did (“often,” according to 2 Cor 11:27). Something the early church held in such high esteem that it was some of the earliest teachings in the Didache. Something that clearly is to be joined with prayer to achieve greater effects (think of when Jesus said a certain unclean spirit could only be cast out “with prayer and fasting”) because it draws us closer to the Lord.

Where do you come down on this topic? Have you learned any lessons through fasting?

Word of the Week – “Integr-” words

by Roseanna White | Mar 4, 2019 | Word of the Week

This is another one that comes courtesy of my son’s vocabulary book. 😉

Let’s look for a moment at the Latin word integer, which means “whole, complete.” We see this root in quite a lot of English words.

First, the word integer itself, which means “a whole number.” 1, 2, 3, 4 etc.–no decimals, no fractions. (Margot from The Number of Love would be delighted to see me featuring this word, LOL.)

But we also have words like integrate–which has been in English since the 1630s with the meaning of “to make something whole, to bring together the parts of something.” Now, it’s worth noting that this is specific to pieces that are already meant to be combined. The meaning of “bringing together elements or parts to make something into a whole” is from 1802. This second meaning is the one where you take pieces that were not at first part of the same thing to make something new.

And then we also have integrity. Though it’s been around since 1400 with the sense of “purity, blamelessness,” it too comes from that idea of wholeness. Paul commands us in the epistles to “be complete.” This is the same idea. We are to be whole, complete, without hole or defect…which hence means we are pure, without spot, blameless. I really like that idea! That by having integrity, we are the complete picture of ourselves.

Thoughtful About . . . Honest Faith

by Roseanna White | Feb 28, 2019 | Thoughtful Thursdays

Have you ever noticed how often children appear in the Gospels?

Have you ever wondered why?

Time and again, Jesus not only encourages children to come to Him, He holds them up as the examples of true faith.

In Matthew 21, after He’s just cleared the temple, the religious leaders chastise Him because the children were crying out, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” after they saw Him healing the blind and lame, and He did nothing to silence them.

We just read this passage in our Bible study, and it was so interesting to take it out of that “Of course this is what happened” way of thinking and instead pose questions to ourselves.

If, in your church, some guy came in and touched someone who’d been ill a long time and they were suddenly better…if your kids or grandkids or nieces or students starting shouting, “Save us, Son of David!” (the literal meaning of Hosannah), what would you do?

Quite likely, you’d hush the kids, right? Probably with something along the lines of “Only God can save us, not this guy.” Even if he was a genuine healer filled with the Holy Spirit, we would not want our kids to cry to him for salvation.

Looking at it that way, you can see where these leaders are coming from. This was a disturbing thing to hear.

But even so, the kids cried out because of what they’d just seen Him do. And if we, too, saw miracles…wouldn’t it make you wonder about who this fellow was?

As we talked about kids and how quick they are to believe, we also realized that in part this belief comes from what they’ve been taught. And what do we teach our kids? Do we teach them our principles…or our doubts?

The Jewish families in Jerusalem at that time would have been instructing their little ones in the Law and the Prophets. They would have been singing psalms with them daily; including Psalm 118, from which “Save us, Son of David!” comes. Quite possibly, these kids even would have heard their parents muttering the phrase every time more news came about the oppressive Roman regime. It would have been a cry on their lips frequently, I think.

A cry the children wouldn’t know not to take literally. Because that’s not the way a child’s belief works. They hear our words, not our internal monologue about how God sure hadn’t saved us before, so who’s say if He ever would again. They learn our lessons, even when we don’t necessarily believe them anymore ourselves.

These children who called out in praise to Jesus in the temple weren’t encumbered by their parents’ expectations of what a Savior should look like. All they knew was that Jesus healed. Jesus did the impossible. And they believed it because they saw it. Maybe they believed it just because something showed on his face that they weren’t cynical enough to doubt yet.

Children don’t just have a strong faith–they have an honest faith. They believe what they’re taught in a way the teacher rarely does anymore.

As I let these thoughts churn during our church service, I remembered that this was something I’d thought before, actually. Something I explored in A Soft Breath of Wind. My heroine, Zipporah, is touched with a spiritual gift that her family can scarcely take in. Because she was young, and she believed. It was at the core as simple as that. She believed what they’d taught her…far more than they themselves did.

Kids aren’t jaded yet. Kids aren’t cynical. Kids don’t have expectations for the way the world–and God–works. They quite simply believe what they say they do.

There’s such beauty in that, isn’t there? And such a lesson. How often do we say the words that are expected, but inside we don’t really expect anything to come of them? How often do we teach things without examining their truth for ourselves? How have we let our honest, childlike faith become cluttered and dulled by a lifetime of questions and doubts and misunderstanding?

Those children in the temple didn’t expect Jesus to save them from Rome, as their parents did. They just expected Him to do the impossible. And He did.

We have expectations when we pray. But like those parents in Jesus’s day, they’re tied up in our wants rather than the Lord’s. But how often is Jesus standing right there before us, already doing something far more miraculous, if only we have the eyes to see…and the heart to believe?