Why Now?

by Roseanna | Jan 29, 2026 | Hard Topics, Thoughtful Thursdays

I’ve had several people ask, either privately or in a comment on my posts lately, a very kind version of “What are you thinking, crazy lady? You’ve got enough going on, fighting cancer. Why are you deciding to talk politics now??”

And they have a point, LOL. (And no one put it that way, I’m being tongue-and-cheek and funny…)

But also…this, too, is important, and I’d like to explain.

I already talked about the year-long journey I’ve been on, and how a year ago, I was just angry and wanted to hold people accountable. How now, I want to understand and heal. Not to talk politics, but to talk about real issues, hard topics that matter. In that “A Time to Speak” post, there was one thing I didn’t go into on this journey.

October 2025.

If you’ve been following me for long, then you know that in 2024, I battled breast cancer. The fight took me into 2025, when I completed radiation treatments in January and then my “blocker” treatments in May. In July, I had my final reconstruction surgery after my bilateral mastectomy. I thought I was done. I thought I’d won.

Then came October, when a brain MRI for an unrelated pituitary issue revealed a tumor in my brain, in the right cerebellum. I know I’ve talked both here and on social media about how hard it hit, and my journey through that. But there are some things I didn’t get into, largely because they were too painful for my family.

I’m going to talk about them now because they are a big part of this.

In those two weeks between the discovery of the tumor and when we had definitive test results, my doctors were sure–SURE–I was in Stage 4 cancer. They were sure it was in my lymph nodes and all through my body. They were sure that palliative care was going to be my fate. They assured me they could keep the cancer in check and still give me years (probably), but let me try to put words to what was going on in my heart and mind.

In those two weeks, I was staring death in the face. Maybe not an immediate death–but that didn’t make it better. I was asking myself, “What if I only have two years left? Or five? Or even ten? What if I don’t get to see my kids get married? What if I spend those years sick and miserable? What if I can’t write the books God’s laid on my heart? What if this is the thing that kills me, and it happens soon?”

Even thinking these questions now makes me cry, guys. Because it’s no less present, just because the scans are clear. It’s no less a real question for me. And it comes with more questions too.

“What really matters?”

During those two weeks, I’ll be honest. I couldn’t read the news. I just…couldn’t. And it wasn’t because I didn’t care about the events or think they mattered. It was because I couldn’t handle the hatred I saw. Every time I glimpsed something, I just wanted to cry, “Don’t you understand? Don’t you understand that you are wasting time on hatred that could be spent on love? On tearing down instead of building up? Why? Why are you spending your precious minutes and hours and days and weeks and months on this? Don’t you see what a tragic waste that is?”

Because when you realize how finite your life is…you are keenly aware of how you’re spending it.

I’ve always given a lot to my legacy, to what I want to be remembered for. When I talk to authors about time management and marketing, that is in fact one of the things I invite them to consider as one of the guiding factors to how they prioritize their time and what governs their outreach.

I want to be remembered as someone who loves, not someone who hates.

I want to be remembered as someone who builds, not someone who tears down.

I want to be remembered as someone who listens, not someone who shouts.

I want to be remembered as someone who uses stories to speak Christ to hurting hearts, not to profit.

I want to be remembered as someone who focuses on others, not just herself.

And as I faced the very real possibility of a short life before me, I realized something else. It’s not enough to just not do the negatives. I have to actively do the positives. Because love isn’t the absence of hate–it’s something more than that, something that requires me to do, to act, to live it out. Similarly, building isn’t just the lack of tearing down. Listening isn’t just the lack of shouting. Not being greedy doesn’t mean working for Christ. And not focusing solely on me doesn’t mean I’m focusing on you.

It isn’t enough to not do. We have to do as well.

As someone who haaaaaaaates conflict (I literally feel sick to my stomach whenever conflict arises, and sometimes migraines even follow), it’s easy for me to just keep my head down. Simpler.

But this is only peacekeeping. And Jesus didn’t say the “peacekeepers” were blessed. He said the peacemakers were.

Making is also an action. This is something I’ve written about before, in a post called “Peace: Keeping or Making?” in which I observe the following:

We’re called to CREATE that soul-deep, “all is well” peace. We’re called to create it with love, with faith, with sacrifice, and with hope. Not with lies, compromises, insults, and division.

The peace of Christ is when you would rather die than deny Him–and rather be killed than kill.
The peace of Christ is when you help those who hurt you.
The peace of Christ is when you love the unlovable.
The peace of Christ is when you welcome the outcast, not cast out the one who has offended you.
The peace of Christ is when you greet an insult with a compliment.
The peace of Christ is when you seek to understand rather than to be understood.
The peace of Christ is when you answer a demand with a gift.

And do you know what happens when we do that? Jesus tells us, right there in the Sermon on the Mount.

We are called sons of God.
Heirs of the Kingdom of God.
Brothers and sisters of Christ.
We are given authority in Heaven and on Earth.
We are made like Him.

Peace, my friends, is something not just to seek, not just to preserve, but to make. It’s an active practice. And it doesn’t rely on pleasing people–it relies 100% on pleasing God by our interactions with them. On remembering that He loves them every bit as much as He loves us. And on treating them like they, too, are a son or daughter of God.

That ought to change everything.

So why am I tackling this now, in a year when I’m getting more chemo infusions (I really want to call these “blocker” treatments too, but the fact is that my team calls them chemo. Not full chemo. But they’re chemo.)? In a year when I’ve been promised I’ll be exhausted? In a year when I already have too much on my plate, given that?

Because this is the time I have. This is the time God stirred my heart to speak. This is the time the world is hurting for these conversations so, so much. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I don’t know where the world will be in a year, when I’m (hopefully and prayerfully) better again. I don’t know if I have another day or another century left on this earth (how’s that last part for optimism?).

But I have now. And so now is the time I will use for the most important things.

The stories He gives me. The people He gives me. The opportunities He gives me.

I will obey, and I will trust Him to provide where I lack. Maybe nothing will come of it. Maybe it’ll take off and I’ll have to bow out. Maybe it’ll just be me talking into what feels like empty space.

Or maybe it will take a cancer patient doing the work to convict other people to do it too. I don’t know.

I just know that I don’t want to be remembered as someone who was silent when God asked her to speak. I don’t want my legacy to be burying my head, just like I don’t want it to be shouting at people. I want it to be modeling a better way. Showing my children that we can still engage with people, whether we agree with them or not. We can still love. And we can also exhort–from that place of love. We can seek to learn and pray that others will continue to do the same.

We can do better. But it starts with each of us. And when I stand before God–whether that’s soon or not–I want to be able to say, “I obeyed. I loved. I built. I served.”

Why now? Because I am so keenly aware that we’re never guaranteed “later.” And I don’t want to waste whatever time I have giving anything less than my whole heart to the world.

A Time to Speak

by Roseanna | Jan 29, 2026 | Cancer Journey, Thoughtful Thursdays

Last year around this time, there were things that I found upsetting in modern politics. As I sat in Church in an hour of prayer, I laid it all out before God and asked, “Should I speak?” And I very clearly felt Him say no. It was not the time. I didn’t understand why, but I obeyed.

I think perhaps now I understand why He asked me to wait. I think it may be because I was at the beginning of what turned out to be a year-long (and ongoing) experiment. See, I’d never been one to read the news—it was too depressing. ? Instead, I’d rely on my news-rabid husband to keep me informed. But last January, I’d felt the need to break that old habit…but I wanted to do it right. I decided that I would read news from a deliberate variety of sources. Especially when a big event caught my attention, I would seek out both the liberal and conservative perspectives on it. My husband does this daily and also reads foreign news, so as we discussed things, he would add in the perspective of international news outlets. (He still spends a lot more time reading the news than I do!) Last year, my opinions were not very well-informed, which means they weren’t all that well formed, either. They were emotional responses—not as reasoned as I wanted to think they were, and not nuanced.

In this year of deliberate reading, I discovered something. I discovered that it was very easy for me, a lifelong Conservative, to pick out the liberal bias in a piece, and after I acknowledged and then dismissed my own knee-jerk reaction to it, I could read the actual information contained with objectivity. It was more difficult in conservative pieces, because their bias is my own. I had to work to be able to pick that out and examine the facts.

Although, I also discovered another interesting thing—that as I perceived Conservative politics (from my perspective, I know you may not feel the same way!) deviating more and more from my own long-held beliefs, that bias in Conservative news began to strike me in a new way. I was angry. I was upset. It felt like a slap in the face that made me do something very strange—it made me want to turn away from it entirely.

That was bizarre. While I have new understanding of many liberal views, there are also key issues where I still very much disagree with the usual lines…but this knee-jerk reaction was pushing me toward them. And then I realized why it was.

I felt betrayed. And when you feel betrayed, a frequent emotional reaction is to want to turn completely away from the perceived traitor. This is why couples who go through divorce can so quickly go from love to hate. Once I identified this emotion, I was able to sit back, evaluate my actual, continual core principles, and realize that the appropriate response was not abandonment…but healing.

That’s the journey I’ve been on in this last year with modern politics.

Now—I’ve long had a policy. As a Christian novelist with a growing platform, a core tenet of my interactions with the public has always been “don’t talk about politics.” It’s a guaranteed way to alienate half your readership—because there are Christians on both sides of the political aisle. But as American politics continue to spiral into snarling shouting matches, I found myself again at a place where I wanted to speak.

This time, it was different. This time, it was because of a few stupid memes. Now, another key tenet of mine is “Don’t argue with people on Facebook,” a corollary of which is “Especially don’t argue with memes.” ? But these particular memes struck me because they were cruel…and they were shared by people I know personally. Now, this is nothing new with these particular people (again, people I know in real life, in my hometown). But on this particular Friday night, it brought me to tears. (Granted, I’m super emotional right now after my second cancer diagnosis, LOL. See my post called “Given to Tears.”) Not because of the political opinion—but because of the attitude of disgust and bitterness and hatred from these people who I know love Jesus. That brought me to tears. It wasn’t worry, it wasn’t anger. It was sorrow.

And responding from sorrow…that’s very different from responding from anger.

I asked again, “Lord, is it time to speak?” And this time, the answer was very different. This time, the answer was yes. That night, I woke up at about 2:15 and, as often happens to me in the middle of the night, my brain clicked on. (This is where most of my books are plotted, LOL. In the dark of the night, when I should be sleeping. Now you know my secret.) I lay there for the next four hours working through what He would have me say—what would glorify God and also lay my heart bare. What would not invite argument, but rather dialogue. I crafted and recrafted the words in my head. I prayed. And as David eventually woke up in the morning (LOL), I told him my thoughts, and the tears came again.

Again, not from anger, not from worry. From sorrow. From grief.

So I got up and I wrote a Facebook post. It was five pages long, LOL. THAT wasn’t going to work, so I had ChatGPT recommend where to cut and tighten, and I ended up with a far more reasonable two pages. In this post, I spoke directly to my MAGA friends (though I didn’t name names). I did something I don’t do—I talked about politics. I shared my own stances and opinions, from the perspective of why I feel betrayed by my party, and more, why I feel betrayed specifically by these people—these people who helped raise me, who are the ones who taught me how to follow Jesus, who taught me what I should look for in politicians. Who, from my point of view, are now not only defending things they once taught me to despise, but who are mocking those who disagree. Am I misunderstanding them? I really hope so. (I had a lot of people who chimed in saying, “Do you consider me MAGA just because I voted for Trump? Because there are a lot of things I have problems with, I just made a decision based on these key things.” My answer to them is, “No, you’re not the ones in particular I was addressing, though I do really appreciate your perspective! I was addressing those who defend everything he does.”)

I didn’t set out to convince anyone of anything—not my goal at all. I set out to be vulnerable. To express why I feel the way I do, to share how I’m interpreting their actions, and to ask them to weigh in and correct me where I’m wrong, explain the things I just don’t understand, and to help me see their point of view more clearly. I love them. I don’t want to judge them (but I had been…which ain’t cool. I know that.). I want to start healing this wound in my own heart, and also healing this rift that is growing within the Church.

What followed were thousands of comments, both from my MAGA friends and from a lot of people who feel the way I do but thought they were alone. People from all sides—from the left, from the right, and from this weird place in the middle of current definitions where I find myself—who had given up speaking because they were afraid of being attacked. The comment section, and my private messages, became a place where they could engage honestly and openly and without fear. It was overwhelming, I’ll be honest—I spent that entire Saturday answering comments and messages—eight long but beautiful hours. When I woke up on Sunday morning, there were about 360 comments, many of which were my own replies, and when I left for church, I had about 50 yet to go through. After church and nursing home ministry and lunch and a nap, I went back to my computer to hit “refresh,” and there were 900 comments, 600 of which I hadn’t read.

I’ll admit it–I panicked, because I hadn’t been there moderating. And yet the newest comments, from total strangers, many of them even from around the world, were to the effect of, “Wow, I didn’t think conversations like this could still happen. This gives me hope.” It gives me hope too. =) The comment section did eventually devolve, and I know of at least two cases where people were hurt and only seeing ugly, bullying comments, and they were baffled by how I was saying it was good…and I get that and regret so deeply that this happened to them! I will share one particular experience about how it resolved soon. And I will also say that I learned how tricky it is for anyone to see a full picture when algorithms are in play! I kept getting notifications like “Jane Doe + 56 others tagged you in a comment.” When I clicked on it, it would show me that first comment, but none others, and short of clicking “all comments” and scrolling for an hour to try to find one in particular, by which time more had come in…I simply couldn’t see them. I imagine it was the same for others, who were alerted when they were tagged, so if they were targeted with bullying, that would be all they saw. Which wasn’t at all what I intended.

But in general, as people checked out (understandably) it was often with comments to me thanking me for the tenor of the original post and conversation. Even with ugly sneaking in at the end, many people agreed that it was beautiful. It was healing.

And I realized that it isn’t enough. It’s the proof of a concept, but one that needs to continue. Because friends, we can’t continue like this. We can’t continue refusing to hear things we don’t like, dismissing any view not our own, and embracing those knee-jerk, emotional reactions that tell us if someone disagrees, then they’re not really a Christian. That if someone disagrees, they’re evil. If someone disagrees, then we should dismiss them entirely. More, we can’t continue growing angrier at each other, letting the wounds fester. That isn’t what God wants for us, and I know we all agree on that!

Ours is a world of nuance. How can it not be? We serve a God who is at once so simple, able to be summed up in a single sentence: God is love. And yet so infinitely complex that our human minds will never grasp His intricacies and mysteries this side of Heaven. We serve a God who is both perfect Justice and perfect Mercy. His creation is just as complex. And fallen humanity? Hoo, boy! There’s nothing simple about how to untangle the mess our sin has created in this world.

And so, in the next few posts, I’m going to keep speaking—and you can expect me to continue to do so. Not to be political—I may discuss current events, and I’m of course coming from my own perspective—but to invite dialogue, to dig down not only to the heart of issues but also into our own hearts, and to grow our mutual understandings. Because I will be the first to admit that I do not understand ANYTHING fully. I am keenly aware of how my own opinions shift as I learn more. So if my opinions change, why would I try to convince you of them? I’m just hoping you’ll want to come along on the ride of discovery and learning and deepening our own understanding, with the goal of better seeing the nuance of those complicated issues and also of each other’s hearts.

I’m going to break these into multiple posts (because this one is already long), but I’m going to publish several of them all at once. If you’d like to engage, you’re welcome to do so at any time on any of the topics. As I publish them, I’ll be adding links to each topic at the bottom of this cornerstone post.

I hope and pray that whether we’re in the same place or different ones, we can be open and vulnerable like that Facebook conversation was at the start—because I love you. You, my readers, are my whole purpose. You are the reason I get up every morning and write the stories God has put on my heart. I don’t love you because we agree—I don’t love because we’re on the same “side.” I don’t love you because I think you’ll echo back to me my own beliefs.

I love you because you are so precious in the sight of God. Most of you know Him and love Him (I know I have some readers who aren’t there yet, too). So most of us are starting from the same place…but that doesn’t mean we’ve taken the same journey or are viewing things in the same way now. And that’s not only okay, that’s beautiful. That means we have so much to learn from each other. It’s no coincidence that Jesus invited both Zealots and tax collectors into His inner circle. Two diametrically opposed positions in that world—both of whom could bring those opposite politics to the Lord’s feet and love Him.

I want us, the Church, to begin healing. And that requires conversation. Not shouting matches, not debates, not trying to win or be right. Learning. Truly learning the other points of view, truly seeking to see others’ hearts.

You’re going to find other people who are standing exactly where you are—and you’ll realize you’re not alone. You’re going to find people who disagree with you—and who can show you things you’d never considered before. You’re (again) going to find people who disagree with you—and who need to hear what you have to say. You’re going to be confronted with uncomfortable truths, no matter your opinions. And you’re going to have to wrestle with them. Because denying them doesn’t achieve anything but the hardening of our own hearts.

I hope you’ll come along on this journey with me. If you’re not up for it, that’s okay. I get it. Maybe it isn’t your time to speak yet. But if it is, and if you do, I pray you’ll join me in the spirit in which I’m opening this dialogue, and I pray you’ll be vulnerable and share your thoughts and opinions and stances. I need to hear them. I need to understand where you’re coming from. I still have so, so much to learn—I know that. And since you’re human, I bet you do too. ?

A year ago, I was angry and wanted to hold people accountable. This year, I’m grieving, and I want to heal. Are you ready for that, too? Then please, come along.

In one of my next posts, you’ll find my story as I shared it on Facebook. In another, I’m going to pause to remind us all of what makes for constructive dialogue, and I’m also going to equip us with something I sure need—a logical fallacy toolkit. The purpose of that will be to give us the tools and words to help us identify why certain arguments feel “off” to us, which in turn helps us know how to respond. I’ll be using examples of them straight from my social media feed. And from there, we’re going to start talking about some of the hard topics and hot button issues we’re confronted with every day right now, from immigration to Greenland to abortion.

And I’m doing something else too. I’m opening up a place to talk about these things live. If there’s enough interest, I’ll be hosting Zoom chats with my husband, in the tradition of Benjamin Franklin’s Junto club or the Maryland founding fathers’ Wednesday Club—where we talk about things that matter from a place of vulnerability, desire to learn, and love and respect for each other. No “winning,” no “agreeing to disagree” (I hate that phrase! LOL). Just earnest, open communication between people who love God and crave that unity in the Church that’s sorely lacking right now.

I’m calling this “The Common Room.” Historically speaking, that’s the place in an inn where people would come to gather—to share a meal, to learn, to talk. We’re going to be emphasizing what we have in common (our faith, our love of God and of the home here on earth He’s given us, and also of each other), and we’re going to be learning from each other when it comes to differences. So I’ll also be sharing the “rules of engagement” for these meetings. ? I hope you’ll come. If you’re interested, please fill out this super-fast form so I (a) know there’s enough interest to warrant it and (b) can send you the Zoom link.

And so, this post will end with this message: if you are liberal, I love you for your concern for your fellow man. If you are conservative, I love you for your adherence to core principles and belief in the sacred. If you are moderate, I love you for trying so hard to strike the balance between the two. If you are confused about it all, I love you for your self-awareness and admission that there’s just too much to take in. No matter where you stand right now, your perspective matters. Your views are not only valid, they are valuable. Come be seen. Come be heard.

Come be healed.

(*A quick note–when this posts, I’ll be in Morgantown for my next chemo infusion, and my website does hold comments from first-time posters for approval, in order to weed out bots. So if you comment but don’t see it pop up immediately, that’s why. I’ll get online as soon as I’m able to approve anything that’s waiting. I just don’t want you to think any delay is intentional or aimed at whatever you might have shared!)

Join Me in the Common Room

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Why I Feel Betrayed

by Roseanna | Jan 29, 2026 | Hard Topics, Thoughtful Thursdays

What follows is the post I made on Facebook on January 17. I want to introduce it here a bit to clarify a few things. First, this was addressed specifically to real-life friends who defend everything Trump does and believe his “rough edges” are in fact good things. I have many friends who voted for Trump as what they perceived as the lesser of two evils, and while I am SO grateful for their perspectives too, if you do not self-identify as MAGA, then chances are good you are not the ones I was specifically speaking to. 😉 Even so, I want to share my own perspective and invite yours, because your matters–whether you were my “target audience” here or not.

Unlike the Facebook post, which got TOTALLY out of hand, I intend to moderate any comments here completely, which means things that show the commenter to be mildly-upset will be let through but I reserve the right to chime in to invite you to see a different perspective (you don’t have to agree with it, but please try to understand it, if you’re engaging), and shouting or name-calling comments will either not be approved to begin with or be deleted as soon as I see them). And if you just don’t want to comment at all, I get. If this comment sections remains a ghost-town, that’s fine. 😉

I also want to take a moment to note that this was my first (and perhaps last, LOL) viral post on social media. It got about 800K views by the time I’m posting this, with a little under 3K comments (this number includes comments on shares, not just on my post itself on my page), and over 400 shares. Way higher than anything I’d seen before. And while I know it only did that because it was dealing with political things, I am still grateful that my “once in a lifetime” viral post was on something that matters and not a cat video. 😉 (I’m not dissing cat videos. I love them.) I also want to note that I’m blown away by the number of international viewers who reached out privately and/or commented, most of whom had no idea how I ended up in their feed. But I saw people from England, Scotland, Denmark, Australia, Germany, Sweden, and New Zealand…and there were several who mentioned being not-US but whose country of origin I didn’t actually see.

Which I mention solely because they all said that this conversation–not the viewpoints, but the fact that we were having an earnest conversation–was the first thing they’d seen out of the US to give them hope that we’ll survive this current storm. That touched me. And gave me hope too.

One final note–that I’m adding some notes. Footnote style. Just things to provide you with the source to which I’m referring. If I’m bringing them up, it’s because it was part of the conversation I’ve had in years past with people who matter to me on these subjects. I’m not claiming you, particularly, claim them. Rather, I’m claiming that they’re part of what I was told. (I did not include these in the original post for the sake of length.)

~*~

Hey, MAGA friends—do you have a minute? I need to talk through some things.

The last couple nights, I’ve been lying awake, honestly upset to the point of tears, after seeing some memes and posts shared here (edited to add: these were not worried, anxious thoughts and tears. They were tears of sorrow, and this “upset” led to a burden to put words to it…and when Roseanna the Writer feels a burden to words to something, she inevitably ends up doing it in the middle of the night, LOL)¹. And I need to hear your actual thoughts so I avoid making any wrong assumptions. I want to say this clearly up front: I love you. In real life, you’re my family, my friends, my neighbors, my book-club people. You matter to me. Your viewpoints matter to me.

I usually live by “don’t talk politics, and for the love of all that’s holy, don’t argue on Facebook.” But I think we’re past the point where that works. I don’t understand some things, and I suspect you don’t fully understand my perspective either. I genuinely believe we’d all be better off if we talked—really talked. If Facebook isn’t the place, fair enough. Email me. Call me. Let’s even get dinner with the goal of having these conversations. Because they’re important.

I need to be honest: when it comes to our current political situation, I feel betrayed. Many of you are the people who raised me, who taught me how to follow Christ. You’re my people. (And for context, if you don’t know me in real life, I’m the stereotypical Conservative Christian woman—I’m a white, rural Republican from West Virginia. I hold traditional views on marriage and gender. I’ve been married 25 years. I homeschooled. I don’t drink, curse, or do drugs.)²

And I am deeply dismayed.

You taught me in the ’90s not to trust politicians without character. You taught me that a man who lies, mocks, and disgraces his office should not lead.³ You taught me to vote my conscience—which is why I didn’t vote for Trump, even back in 2016. Back then, many of you said, “He’s a baby Christian.”⁴

That was nearly a decade ago.

True new Christians grow—remember that parable about the seed and the soil? You taught me the fruits of the Spirit to watch for—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.⁵ Please help me understand: do you honestly see those fruits being modeled now? Not just by the president, but by the broader movement? I see crosses worn publicly and prayers posted online—but I also see open contempt, hatred, mockery, aggression, pride, and a startling lack of self-control.

Don’t tell me you’re a Christian with your T-shirts or jewelry. Show me you’re a Christian by your love.

Which brings me to what started all of this: how we’re talking about immigrants.

One of you shared a meme saying you voted for Trump to “take out the trash.” Please—help me understand. Are we talking about people? Because the kind of things we throw away as trash are rotten, disgusting, beyond worth. And even if you mean “unnecessary clutter,” I don’t believe you would ever look a person in the eye and tell them they’re unnecessary.

Yet we’re saying it about an entire group.

I’ve heard it said: “If they’re here legally, they’re fine. If not, they’re criminals and they’ve got to go.” But here’s the problem—the government keeps changing what ‘legal’ means. People who entered the country lawfully, under one administration’s rules, have had their status revoked by another’s executive order. Refugees. Families. People still in active legal processes with legal statuses.⁶

Are they suddenly “trash”?

I know we all agree violent criminals shouldn’t be on the streets. That’s not the debate. The issue is the use of blanket terms. It’s shifting laws. It’s a system that punishes people who followed the rules—and then calling concern about that “fake news” and “the liberal agenda.” I’m not liberal by any stretch of the imagination—and please don’t even DARE suggest I don’t know how to read and research. If you know me even a little, you know them be fightin’ words to a historical novelist. ?

And here’s the thing: I don’t think we actually disagree on whether innocent people being brutalized is wrong. I think we agree it would be horrific—if it’s true. The question is whether we’re willing to believe uncomfortable truths, or whether we drown them out because they don’t fit our narrative. History gives us sobering examples of what happens when Christians choose the latter.

I’ll offer this about myself, since I’m asking for honesty from you. Last year, when Roe was overturned, I went looking for data to prove my side right. Instead, I found evidence that strict abortion laws increase abortions. I didn’t like it—but I had to reckon with it. I didn’t change my belief that life is sacred. I changed my conclusion about the system I thought would protect it.⁷

That’s what I’m asking for here—not a change of core values, but a willingness to examine whether the systems we support are actually producing the good we say we want.

I am not here to pick a fight. Conflict literally makes me feel sick to my stomach, and I’ve got enough of that dealing with chemo. ? I’m here because I believe something is broken in the unity of the Church, and I don’t think silence fixes it.

I believe we still share core principles. I believe our disagreements are about how to live them out. And I believe we owe it to each other—as Christians, as friends, as family—to talk honestly, humbly, and without name-calling or fear.

I’ve laid my heart on the table. Please tell me where I’ve misunderstood you. Please correct me where I’m wrong. Let’s start a real conversation—and see where we can go from here.

Footnotes:

¹ See my post “A Time to Speak” (https://www.roseannamwhite.com/2026/01/a-time-to-speak.html)

² To be totally accurate, this is my “historical” place, where I’m coming from, what informs and shapes my opinions. Because of what I go on to explain, I’ve undergone a lot of change. And am really just trying to disentangle my identity from ANY identity politics. Again, see the same post mentioned above.

³ I was born in 1982, so the “era” I best remember from my childhood is the Clinton era. In my particular circles, I remember many conversations about how a president should not even let himself be impeached but should rather resign if it comes down to that, to keep from disrespecting the office of President. That it didn’t matter what Clinton did for the economy, because he was not a man of character. As I approached my eighteenth year (in 2000, if you don’t feel like doing the math) when I would register to vote, I had been 100% taught to vote my conscience based not just on political issues but on the politicians. Not because any political candidate would ever be perfect (we all know that’s impossible), but because someday I will have to stand before God and answer for what my vote supported and what they did as public servants. Yeah, it’s a lot of pressure, LOL.

⁴ “James Dobson Says Paula White Led Donald Trump to Jesus Christ” (https://www.christianpost.com/news/james-dobson-says-paula-white-led-donald-trump-to-jesus-christ.html) This article was quoted as the reason many people I know in real life felt “permission” to vote for Trump.

⁵ In Matthew 7:16-20, Jesus tells us we will know believers by the fruit they produce. In Galatians 5:22-23, Paul lists that fruit.

⁶ Sharing statements from a Christian ministry devoted to refugees that a trusted friend has volunteered with in Minneapolis, Arrive Ministries. This is their Jan 20, 2026 post.

⁷ I talk a bit more in-depth about this in my post “Grappling.” https://www.roseannamwhite.com/2025/05/grappling.html

Health Update Post Infusion 1

by Roseanna | Jan 21, 2026 | Cancer Journey, Thoughtful Thursdays

I had my first infusion for what I’ve been thinking of as my “cancer blocker treatment” on January 7, so today, over two weeks later, I figured it would be a good time to update you on how I’m doing.

These infusions are NOT full chemo. They’re somewhat similar to treatments I had after surgery in 2024, going into May of 2025, and with those, I had zero side effects. So it’s been my hope and prayer that I would respond similarly with these. These, however, are not quite the same and do include a sizable list of possible side effects–most of which are things like stomach issues and thinning hair, but the serious one is a lung condition. (I DEFINITELY appreciate prayers that I don’t experience any serious ones!)

I’ll admit I got a little emotional when I went in on the 7th and my doctors were refilling my anti-nausea meds…and when the infusion had pre-meds for anti-nausea as well. Because I know that when I was on chemo, I felt nauseous every day. Every day from mid-May until the end of August. And y’all, I do not want to feel sick every day for the next year, so that hit me hard. Hopefully I won’t, but I did definitely get some of that belly-upset in the days immediately following the infusion. No vomitting or anything, so praise God for that…but about 8 days of feeling crummy, and seriously exhausted for the first 2 or 3. As in, sit down to read after dinner and fall asleep instead, which I never do.

The bright side was that I went in with a cold, but the steroids they gave me opened my nose up and helped me get over it, LOL. I’ll take my wins wherever I can!

I was also warned that I’m very likely to feel more tired than usual in general. Which isn’t great, given that I have 7-8 books to write this year, so prayers are VERY much appreciated for me on the energy front. One of my big goals for the year is to figure out how to rebalance my schedule to allow for more, better time for writing, which will likely mean taking time from my design schedule. Prayers for wisdom in how to juggle all those things greatly appreciated too!

They do also consider me to be immune-compromised while on this treatment, so I’ll be going back into “careful” mode, masking in crowds and avoiding anyone I know is sick.

But my oncologist did also make it VERY clear that his goal is to get me off this treatment as quickly as possible. It will still likely be a year of infusions (though likely with a break in there for my next reconstruction surgery), but he does NOT want me to be on this indefinitely, and that’s music to my ears.

As for that next surgery…so my initial reconstruction isn’t doing so well, and radiation is no doubt to blame. It can (and clearly did) damage the whole area, not just the skin but the muscles and everything else in there. In my case, my right side has tightened, meaning daily pain. The area itself is still always sore and sometimes outright painful, and even my neck/shoulder muscles have been effected. When I last saw my PT and told her that my hand was tingly, we quickly determined it was from the muscles in my neck and shoulder. When we finished the diagnostic exercises that verified that and she got to work on it, it earned a “Dang, girl!” LOL. So…yeah. I’ve been doing the exercises she gave me, but I still get a tingly hand every couple days and frequently either wake up or end my day with super tight neck/shoulder muscles that result in a splitting headache.

On Monday, I had an appointment with my surgeon, who agrees that our next step should be to remove the current reconstruction and do the deep-tissue method, which uses belly fat/skin to reshape the breasts. This is where I wanted to end up eventually, I was just hoping to defer it to “down the road.” Because I’ll be honest–I’m tired of surgeries, LOL. And timing this one is tricky. My oncologist will have to clear it, and when I spoke to him about the possibility on the 7th, he said that if my scans in March are clear, then he will be comfortable pausing the infusions while I undergo and recuperate from surgery.

Because it’s a big one. It’s long and complicated, and that means recovery is too, requiring a solid eight weeks, from those I’ve spoken to who have had it. My oncologist (a) wouldn’t want me dealing with side effects from infusions while also dealing with this recovery and (b) chemo can in fact slow and interfere with recovery in general. So there we go.

As of today, I feel good. But the cycle begins again next Thursday…so prayers are very much appreciated, and I thank you all so much for them!

Given to Tears

by Roseanna | Jan 15, 2026 | Cancer Journey, Thoughtful Thursdays

In my P&P groups, we have several members who “process through tears.” A phrase I’ve always been familiar with, because I have many friends and family members who do the same.

I’ve never been much of a crier. When I was a young teenager, we got the news that my grandfather had cancer, and while the rest of my family cried, I…couldn’t. Instead, I went back to my room and wrote a poem called “Why Do I Smile?” This is, in a nutshell, very typical of me. I don’t process through tears. I process through words. Not the speaking of them, but the writing of them. It’s not to say tears don’t ever come–they do. But through most of my adult life, I cried maybe twice a year. Sometimes in grief, from a loss. Sometimes in emotional pain. Once in a while in frustration.

Cancer has changed that for me. Specifically, this second round has changed it for me. Since last October, I’ve cried more than in the last decade combined. I cry when I feel my friends’ pain. I cry when I’m struck by the beauty of our Lord. I cry when I think about the future. I cry when I’ve disappointed someone. I only have to open my spirit to the Lord, and tears fill my eyes. On the one hand, this is very unlike me.

On the other, to exist in this state of emotional rawness is its own kind of blessing.

I’ll be honest. 2026 got off to a rough start for me. 2025 was ending well in a lot of ways, I thought. I’d spent Christmas week writing a fantasy novella as a sort of vacation, and I had a blast with it. I started it the Monday before Christmas and finished the Tuesday following. I felt so alive with story that I thought something along the lines of, “I can just do this every day. Just pour it all out in writing, get all those books on my calendar done in no time.”

Then came New Year’s Eve. The day ended with an email that hurt. That made it clear we’d disappointed someone, let them down, that we had failed. That was my final note of the year, and I’ll admit it. I wasn’t just hurt–I was angry. Why, why did this person have to send this email at 5pm on New Year’s Eve? Why couldn’t it have waited for Monday? To be clear, I’m not contesting her points. They were valid. But to send it at that moment felt spiteful to me.

And I crashed. I woke up on New Year’s Day upset with the world and everyone in it. I woke up crying tears of frustration. I tried to pour it all out to God, and I sounded like a whiny toddler, proclaiming, “I hate everything!” This is very unlike me. And to give myself a little grace, I’m sure it was due in large part to the migraine that struck, and the fact that I felt close to vomiting all day. I took an unplanned two-hour nap, cancelled the day’s dinner plans (because even smelling the bread I’d made for it made me feel nauseous), and curled up with a book.

And I cried. That day, and into the second. I cried because this wasn’t how I wanted to start my year. This wasn’t how I wanted to feel. I dug around inside myself and just couldn’t grab hold of the grace I knew I needed, the forgiveness, the peace. All I could find was the hurt. All I could find were the tears.

But you know what? That’s okay. There have been so, so many times over the years when I wished I could cry. When I longed for that emotional release, but I couldn’t dig it up. When whatever it is in my makeup that makes me tend toward smiles and optimism no matter what just wouldn’t let go, even when I needed to deal with emotions.

Now, I found those tears. And I let them come. I let out the frustration, I let out the hurt, I let out the disappointment in myself. I still didn’t process through tears like my friends do. I still needed the words to really work through it.

But the tears…they’ve become a sort of magnifier for me. Through them, I can see the world a little differently. They’ve become a sort of reminder of baptism, an anointing almost. A reminder that He cleansed me. He made me anew. He made me whole. He washed away my sins, and He’ll continue to work in me. Continue to wipe away those smudges.

Will the tears continue for this veteran-non-crier? I have no idea. Maybe so–maybe the rest of my life, I’ll be one of those people who cry whenever I’m moved. That would be fine. Or maybe as I put cancer behind me again (my prayer!), my usual way will reassert itself. That would be fine too.

What I know is this: In this year that began with tears, my prayer is that they water my heart. Soften the soil of it. Nurture the seeds that the Lord has planted inside me, so that I can bear whatever fruit He wants to bring forth. I pray that these tears make me more sympathetic, more understanding, more generous, more kind. I pray they make me a better friend. A better person. A better Christian. More like Him.

Sometimes, we’re told that Jesus was moved with compassion. But we’re also told that Jesus wept. Even when He knew what He was about to do, even when He knew that this death of his friend would be reversed in glory, He still felt it. He still mourned it. He still cried.

Maybe, like “classic” me, you’re not given to tears. Maybe, like “new” me, you are. However you tend to process your emotions, I pray that in the year to come, as the world becomes ever more divided, ever more given to outrage, ever harsher, that we can become softer. Gentler. More loving. And always ready to grow in Him, like those seeds buried in the ground, just waiting to spring forth once they receive that life-giving water.

Four Years of Patrons and Peers!

by Roseanna | Jan 8, 2026 | Thoughtful Thursdays

AWhat is Patrons & Peers?

Four years ago, I decided to start a patron group. It was something my husband and I discussed briefly on a walk, and the thought just burrowed down deep and wouldn’t let me go, so I did that thing I do, which boggles my husband’s mind. I put my nose to the grindstone and developed it in the next week, then launched it. Without testing, without surveys, without anything but a vague hope of making some new friends, I launched Patrons & Peers on January 6, 2022. There are two levels: the Patrons, who can come in for as little as $5 a year and have access to all the community aspects and digital stuff; and the Peers, who come in at $15/mo or more and get all the physical stuff, like all my books when they release, without having to order them.

I remember the excitement when the order came in for the first subscription–a young woman named Hannah. Then I remember the laughter when, not long after, another order came in–another young woman named Hannah. For a couple hours there, I thought we were going to be the Hannah-Roseannas. Then others started joining too.

By the end of the first year, we were 30 strong. Now, at the end of the fourth year, we’re 52 strong. We’ve had some ladies who had to bow out. We’ve had some who stepped away for a season and returned. We’ve had new members who faithfully renew but don’t have the time or energy to engage with the community. But the core of the group–this amazing group of women–is something I hoped and prayed for, but which I’m still so in awe of.

Because this group has become a family…the sort that’s always excited to welcome in a new sister, a new friend.

The Dream

In 2020, my husband and I read Dream Big by Bob Goff and did the study (twice, actually–once with an in-person group and then we led a group via Zoom). Part of this program is writing down your big, crazy, out-there dreams. The things you wish you could do but don’t necessarily know how. The things you can’t control. The things that you certainly can’t do alone.

One of mine was “build a community.”

I didn’t honestly know what I meant. Was I thinking about a physical community? An online one? Something else altogether? I wasn’t sure, but I knew that the dream of it burned in my heart. I’d tried, in other ways. With my #BeBetter group…with my Seeing the Story site. Both of which flopped. So when I started a patron group, I really didn’t know what to expect. Would it work? Would it not? Would it just be me talking into the ether, no one paying attention? Would they take me seriously when I invited them to share their dreams, their passions, their lives? Would that be too weird?

But they did take me seriously. And maybe it was because some of the first ladies to join were our resident Extroverts, LOL–but they jumped in with both feet, opened up, shared their lives with us–their struggles, their concerns, their loves, their passions, what fueled them. And as others joined, they followed suit. And guys, when you have a place where vulnerability and openness is the norm…something amazing happens. It becomes a place of love. Of friendship. Where judgment cannot penetrate. Where friction is quickly smoothed over by genuine compassion and a desire to understand each other.

Looking Back

In our four years of P&P, we’ve gained some nicknames, like when Bonnie F from NC dubbed us “her Roseanna Girls,” and it stuck. In there, we also have subsets, like “the Houston girls,” “the Cali girls,” and “the fantasy girls.” While I have the easy definition of being able to refer to them as “my patron group,” they have a harder time trying to convey to outsiders what this awesome family is, so they usually end up calling it something like, “my book group” or “my group of reader friends” or “my book club.”

We’ve gone on three different retreats together–one to Georgia that first fall, where only five of us ended up making it after another got sick and had to cancel; one to the Outer Banks, where we had about fifteen total, but largely in two groups as people came and went midweek; and then this past November in Colorado Springs, to see the ballet of Christmas at Sugar Plum Manor, where there were seventeen. The first two were creative retreats, so during the day we’d write or quilt or paint or read or watch those classes we’d purchased but hadn’t had time to do yet, then we’d fellowship in the evenings. This last one was pure fellowship. (Also, after the Outer Banks trip, I was “fired” from planning them, LOL, when I made a mistake that totally stressed me out, and my darling husband decided that I should just show up and enjoy it. He’d planned on taking it over, but member Candice begged to be the one to do so, so we happily let her! The awesome CO Springs trip was thanks to her and the ladies she recruited to help, and it was AMAZING.)

We’ve discovered that quite a big percentage of our members are from the Houston, TX area, so the “Houston Girls” get together several times a year. They’ll go out to dinner, go to a bookstore, have book exchange parties…

Whenever one of us travels to an area where another lives, there are lunches or dinners arranged so they can meet in person, and they always send photos. There for a while, Cali-Hannah (one of those first two members, who lives in California) had met more of the ladies in person than I had!

We have added every form of communication imaginable, LOL. We have an address database, for cards and letters and gifts. We have the Marco Polo video chat app, which was one of our first methods of communication (and seeing each other’s faces and hearing voices does SUCH amazing things for connecting us!). We have an email list, which is where announcements and links go, as well as updates and prayer requests. We have a traditional text group. And when we got too big for that, most of us migrated to the GroupMe app.

Which means that we are chatting every day. Seriously. There isn’t a day that goes by without P&P communication, and I love that so much!

We have subgroups–the fantasy readers started by creating a fantasy sub-group on Marco Polo. Those who were lured into reading The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion by Nicole (ALL YOUR FAULT! LOL) now have a GroupMe group called Whereabouts Lane (the street where Emma lives in London), where we chat about Emma and the books and the merch we find. We have a pen pal group started recently for those who want to send physical letters to each other…which was started because the kids of the group wanted to write to each other! (It’s becoming multi-generational! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!)

Every time I have a book release, we schedule a “tea party.” These are inspired by my public Tea Party Book Club chats, but I don’t send out packages, and they’re only open to P&P members. We get together on Zoom, we talk through the book, and we spend usually 2+ hours at it, first focusing (mostly, LOL) on the story and then just chatting. And as of yesterday, we’ve decided to add a regular monthly Zoom chat where we’ll talk about a backlist book.

We also love to send out “encouragement bombs,” as I’ve taken to calling them, when a member is sick or going through a hard time or has just lost a loved one. They might be care packages, a deluge of cards, monetary donations, or meals. They might come in the mail, they might be delivered by another nearby member. I put the first one or two together, but since then, it’s been other members reaching out and saying, “Hey, I think we need to bless ____. I’m happy to spearhead the effort!” And I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! I love that this group is not only generous but so tuned in to the struggles of each other and so quick to want to help.

We also have an annual ornament exchange through Elfster, organized by another of the Houston ladies, Caroline. This is always a highlight to kick-off the Christmas season!

Looking Forward

What’s coming for this group? Much of it will be a continuation of what we already do and love so much. We’ll keep chatting. We’ll keep Zooming. We’ll keep reading books together. We’ll keep meeting up whenever we can. And as I just mentioned above, we just decided yesterday to add a regular Saturday meet-up on Zoom once a month, to chat about one of my backlist titles, and everyone is SO excited to have that regular time to hang out on the calendar!

We’re for sure planning another beach retreat for our FIFTH year, this fall. Thus far, we’re leaning toward Pensacola Beach in October.

But we’re planning way ahead, too. We’ve decided that for our TENTH anniversary retreat, we’re going to Europe. We haven’t decided where, exactly. Maybe the Isles of Scilly. Or maybe Northumberland (where the manor house I based Fairfax Tower on is an actual Air BnB! But, sadly, no circus is in residence, LOL). Maybe Paris. Who knows? We’ve got a few years to figure that part out, but we’re already saying it’s a for-sure thing, so everyone has time to save up and get or renew their passports. =)

What These Ladies Mean to Me

I get teary when I ask myself this question. Because these ladies, these friends, these sisters have become part of my daily life. They have been there, supporting me and praying for me and encouraging me, through the hard chapters of cancer. They never tire of hearing about my stories. When I need someone to take a look at something before I turn it into my editor, they’re the ones I reach out to. Deanna read Yesterday’s Tides for me, to help me with the sign language. Lee Anne read A Noble Scheme for me, to help me work through an editorial suggestion that was frustrating me. Danielle, Pam, and Marisa read The Spy Keeper of Marseille to weigh in on pacing concerns. Nearly the whole group reads my fantasies before they release, in Alpha (as soon as I finish, before I edit at all), Beta (after my big edits), and Gamma (final proofread) shifts.

Their generosity astounds me. Their support holds me up. Their love for each other inspires me. I cannot imagine, now, life without this group. When we get together, in person or online, it’s like walking into a room with your best friends. When I met some for the first time this last November, I couldn’t quite believe I’d never hugged them before, because we know each other so well. We’ve done so much life together!

And it’s certainly not just about what they do for me. It’s about how I see them building such strong friendships with each other. It’s when one member reaches out because she knows another in going through a hard time, and she asks what we can do. It’s the care packages they spearhead sending. It’s the soup and flowers we send to members who’ve lost loved ones. It’s the meet-ups they arrange. And it’s the fact that one sister can get on in tears, afraid she said something to offend another, and the other is so quick to hop on too and reach out with love. We’ve had some disagreements here and there–but they’re always handled like the Church should handle them, with grace and affection and the certainty that the other meant only the best.

It’s the bridal party we threw via Zoom. It’s the school-supply drive we all pitched in on for a church in Texas. It’s the friend who will drive four hours to visit someone before a hospitalization. It’s the fact that when one of us gets hard news, we come and share it there FIRST, often before even talking to family, because we all know this is a place of love and safety, where we can work through things in vulnerability before we have to be strong for someone else. Where we know we’ll have prayer warriors supporting us as we have those hard conversations with our loved ones.

It’s the fact that these women are the Church.

What These Ladies Mean to Each Other

And that’s enough of my musing. I asked them to pipe in too, with their own thoughts on the group. So I’ll let them take it from here.

Patrons & Peers is such a special place. Within the group I have found laughs, prayer partners, camaraderie. They understand me when I stay up all night reading and we pray together when dealing with life’s hurdles. When we get together—whether that be online or in person—it feels like a family reunion and is literally a time full of love and laughter. I’m so grateful to Roseanna for starting such a thing. Cheers to the past two years (for me) and onward to the next two and beyond!

Bethany A.

Currently living in Missouri, but her heart is still in Indiana..., Member since 2022

This is a phenomenal group of women – the sisters I never had growing up. We laugh with each other, pray for each other, and surround each other with support when life gets hard. The friendships we have formed are incredible. At our retreat this past November, it wasn’t like we were meeting everyone for the first time – even though most of us had never met in person before. It was like going to a family reunion with people you hadn’t seen in ages. This group has challenged me to grow my faith and allowed me to be a book worm in the best possible way!

Deanna D.

from Pennsylvania, Member since January 2022

This group has been such a blessing. These ladies not only pray for one another but truly care. We can share as much or as little as we want. Everyone is so encouraging and kind. Its been so neat to see how the group has grown. I love the tea parties when we get to see each other. Group Me and Marco Polo have been a wonderful way to get to know each other as well. As someone who is not in Social Media this group is nothing like that. I am so thankful for all these ladies who have become my friends. It’s amazing to see how the Lord has brought us together with a love for Roseanna’s books and now we all have gotten wonderful friendships.

Melessa

from California, Member since 2023

P&P is a true treasure! This group is the community that I prayed for and one that has become so dear to my heart. God blessed this group in a special way and I look forward to growing in faith-filled friendships with the amazing ladies that have become some of my most cherished friends.

Colleen Marie

from Maryland, Member since 2024

I joined this group to support Roseanna and her writing, but I have found that I am the one being supported. This community is so precious. I love that we can talk about books and baseball and send photos and silly memes—and then seamlessly switch over to serious prayer needs and personal concerns. I can be really active and present in the group at times, but other times I get busy and can’t participate so much—but always, always, coming back is so easy. There’s no awkwardness when I get back, no “resettling in”; I know I’m still welcome and still belong. I also really treasure the openness of all these ladies. We come from many different backgrounds and denominations, but we are really just here as simple sisters in Christ. It is such an uplifting, encouraging, and…I’m searching for the word…spiritually valuable?…group to me. My heart, mind, and spirit are always refreshed here.

Nicole D

from Texas, Member since 2022

Roseanna was already a favorite author of mine, and my cover designer, so when she opened up P&P, signing up was not a question for me. What I didn’t expect was the impact of this community. These women have become some of my dearest sisters-in-Christ. We celebrate and pray for one another. And getting to meet in person feels like seeing an old friend I’ve known for ages. I’m incredibly grateful Roseanna created such a welcoming place. It has blessed me more than I can express.

Danielle Grandinetti

from Wisconsin, Member since January 2022

I joined P&P because I was intrigued with what lay behind the curtain in Roseanna’s writing world. What I didn’t realize, is that I would quickly gain a sisterhood. We bonded over our love of books, but Christ has truly given us all a gift of deep friendship with one another!

Hannah Allen

from Texas, Member since January 2022 (one of those first two members)

The Patrons and Peers group has been a lifeline for me emotionally and spiritually. These women are amazing encouragers, gracious in giving grace, so generous with their time, their talents, and even their finances. Each woman brings a wisdom from their individual experiences with God and with their communities that gives so many wonderful perspectives and ideas. I am blessed to call each one of these ladies my friend and have been priviledged to grow beside them for the past several years.

Laura Heagy

from Kansas, Member since 2022

That first year, I thought it would be fun to try supporting Roseanna for a year, get copies of all her new books that year, and see how it went. After the first year, there was no question – P&P had become such a wonderful family of sisters who all love the Lord Jesus and love Roseanna’s books, and as we got to know each other through Zoom book discussions, prayer requests shared and prayed for, pictures, etc, we all loved each other too! How could I turn my back on such a great group of gals! This year, being able to attend the retreat in Colorado and meet in person so many of those dear people, I kept pinching myself to make sure I was really there, and really getting to hug, laugh with, eat with, talk with, and play with these special women! Despite sharing 3 bathrooms for 15 or so people, (mostly women), all from different parts of the country and from different paths to following Jesus, there was no major complaining, no arguing or fighting (except the fun kind), just enjoying time together. It’s a foretaste of heaven!

Margaret N

from Northern California, Member since January 2022

I struggle to adequately define Patrons and Peers (P&P) to people who are not part of the group. It is, on the surface, a funding tool for an author I love—but that description feels far too impersonal. It is perhaps like an online book club, yet that comparison also leaves out so much of what makes P&P so dear to me. It is a collection of women from different parts of the country, of different ages and backgrounds, united by a love of books and of God—and still, it is difficult to put into words how much I value their place in my life.

I initially joined the Patrons and Peers group because I enjoyed Roseanna’s books and thought it would be a fun way to receive a free copy of each new release while learning a little more about the stories behind them. I am not a writer—just a self-professed introverted book nerd who loves Christian historical fiction—and the P&P perks seemed like a good deal. What I have actually received over the past four years, however, is far more than I could have ever imagined. I have learned so much about the process an author goes through to turn an idea into a story, and then to craft that story into the novel I eventually hold in my hands. I’ve gained insight into editorial processes and publishing details I never knew existed, and I’ve even been given opportunities to participate in story development and editing. I’ve been introduced to genres I never would have tried otherwise, and I now appreciate far more deeply the love and effort behind every book I read—not just Roseanna’s.

Yet insight into the background of books is only a small part of the impact this group has had on my life. In my fellow P&Ps—or “Roseanna Girls,” as I affectionately call them—I have found a sisterhood of kindred spirits: fellow book lovers, prayer partners, encouragers, and friends—a bookish sorority of sorts. I never imagined such meaningful relationships could grow from an online community, but through the various platforms we use to connect, I have come to know not only their names, but their voices, their families, their pets, their jobs, their joys, their hopes, and their fears. We share book recommendations, recipes, advice, and burdens. We pray for one another, encourage one another, and walk alongside each other through both life-changing events and the ordinary struggles of daily life. In short, these Roseanna Girls have become treasured friends, and our in-person retreats in various locations are now much-anticipated delights.

I understand that, from the outside looking in, joining a group like this may feel intimidating. Please don’t worry—there is no pressure to participate beyond what you are comfortable with. You will benefit from P&P even if you simply sign up to receive the books and updates from Roseanna. You can choose to connect with the other Roseanna Girls through email, text, GroupMe, Marco Polo, Zoom parties—or you can remain happily in the background. This group has a place for you, no matter how interactive you choose to be.

Bonnie F

from North Carolina, Member since January 2022

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