Faith Without Trust? by Ginger Solomon

Photo of author Ginger Solomon. Photo is of woman with brown hair, beautiful eyes, a blue sweater and cute dangling earrings. She is posing in an outdoor setting, but the background is blurred.
Ginger Solomon is a Christian, a wife, a mother to seven, and a writer—in that order (mostly). She writes or reads inspirational romance of any genre, and if she’s busy homeschooling, doing laundry, or fixing dinner, books are on her mind. She’s a member of American Christian Fiction Writers, president of her local writing group, and blogs regularly for InspyRomance.com and at GingerSolomon.com.

Faith Without Trust?

Dictionary.com defines faith as “confidence or trust in a person or thing.” But how can you have faith without trust?

I think we’ve all had trust issues at one time or another. At least I have. I’ve doubted people—their motives or their words. And I’ve doubted God. I’ve questioned His love for me. I’ve asked why so many times I can’t even count them.

One thing I have come to understand is that God has always been with me. Even in the darkest moments of my life, and there have been a few, He has been by my side. When I’ve turned away, He has been faithful and remained steadfast in His love for me. No matter how I “feel” or how things seem to be falling apart, God is there.

But even with that knowledge doubts arise when I’m in the midst of a new trial. I try to place God in a box. The size of which is conceived from what I’ve been taught and the experiences I’ve had, but as Isaiah 55:8 reminds us, “’For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,’ says the Lord.”

We are finite and He is infinite. He won’t fit in my box. Or your box. Ever. He will always be bigger and better than we can imagine.

Cahri, my heroine in One Choice, struggles with trusting God. In the beginning of the book, she wants nothing to do with God, though she continues to attend church so she can keep her job. She is angry and has lost her faith in Him. In her opinion, God no longer deserves her trust. BUT God (don’t you just love that phrase?), in His infinite grace, calls to Cahri even as she’s going through one of the hardest trials of her life. He speaks to her through art, creation, and through her memories. He won’t leave her alone. Toward the end of the book, Cahri finds herself in a situation that forces her to trust God. She has nothing left, but the small grain of faith that her parents planted in her as a child. A grain of faith that has grown because God is THERE. He is everywhere she looks, and she must acknowledge Him.

In the end, she must trust God because she, by herself, is helpless. She must trust Him with her very life.

But then, don’t we all do that every day? On some level, we trust God will continue to provide the air we need to breathe. We trust that the muscles and bones He created will provide movement and support. We trust that the cup we pour our drink of choice in will hold said liquid. We trust that the laws of physics will remain in place, that the chair we sit in will hold us, that our cars will transport us to our destination.

“But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him.” (Heb. 11:6 NKJV)

I think many times we believe that God is, but we fail to believe that He rewards those that diligently seek Him. Okay, maybe you don’t, but I do. I know how bad I am, and how much I mess up (aka sin) daily. BUT God (there it is again) is faithful to forgive us and cleanse us from all of the bad stuff (1 John 1:9)

In my novel, God protects Cahri from herself and from others. He is there for her, even when she doesn’t feel his presence. And, as in any novel I write, she has a happily-ever-after.

He’s there for you, too. Every day. And if you believe in Him, trust in Him, have faith in Him, you will have a happily-ever-after too.

If you have a need that you are comfortable sharing, or even if you don’t share, but just need some prayer, leave a comment and I will pray for you.

More About One Choice

Cover for One Choice by Ginger Solomon.
Order Your Copy of One Choice

Cahri Michaels is American by birth, but Belikarian by choice. Being selected to participate in the Bridal March forces her to give up the independent life she’s created for herself. She’s not ready to be anyone’s wife, much less to a man she doesn’t know.

Prince Josiah Vallis despises the centuries old tradition—the Bridal March—that is forcing him to choose a wife from fifty women. Why does it matter that he’s twenty-five and still single?

When Cahri and Josiah meet, passion ignites. Will it spark a godly love that can see them through or will they be burned, never to be the same?

 

 

Why Success Shouldn’t Matter to Writers

 

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It is easy when you are writing book to get focused on the bottom line. How many books am I selling? I’ll admit it – There have been times when I’ve clicked on my own book’s link multiple times in a day to watch the ranking and see if there are any new reviews.

When you hear success stories about someone you know hitting that # 1 spot on Amazon’s bestseller lists, or hitting the New York Times, it is easy to compare yourself to those writers. I’ve done it. I suspect anyone published has done it.

I’ve thrown money at advertising, tried book tours, and offered contests and giveaways in the pursuit of gaining new readers. And while these things are not bad in and of themselves, when you are spending as much on promotion as you are making then you might want to reconsider your focus.

That’s why I recently did a lot of soul searching about my fiction writing. I am lucky. I have a husband with amazing benefits through his job. This allows me to work for myself. I am also lucky in that I make an income from my nonfiction writing, editing, and web design business that I’ve built over the years. I spend about 2/3rds of my time ont hat and 1/3 on my fiction.

Still, fiction always has been and always will be my first love. My dream is to one day just write fiction. But, that dream seems pretty far off and it is easy to get discouraged that I might never reach that goal. I have a dual-sided perspective. I’ve been published with a bigger publisher (Thorndike), I have been with a small press (Amber Quill), and I am now indie publishing my books. I’ve sold foreign rights (Japanese so far). You see, I’ve gotten the advances, earned out on them, gotten smaller checks here and there and still not made enough to write fiction full time. I suspect I am in a big group of published writers. Part of the reason I decided to take control of my own books was because there were sales that never showed up that I know for a fact were made because I bought them myself to “gift” to readers during a book tour and to see if they would show up.

One thing with that complete control, though is that I can also track sales daily. This can really put one’s focus on sales. Sales are not why I started writing. At first, I was writing for myself. I was writing because I loved it. It was so much fun.

During my soul searching, I realized that writing is still fun but that I need to get back to the reason I sent that first book to a publisher so many years ago (it was rejected, by the way). My goal is to write a story, to have fun doing it, and to hopefully touch just one person’s heart or make them look at things in a different way. If I accomplish that, what an amazing thing. How many chances in life do we get to impact another person in that way?

So, if you are writing to get rich or focused on how “successful” you are, it is time for you to do some soul searching as well. There’s nothing wrong with making money off your books, but what is the core reason you are writing? What drew you to writing in the first place? If you can recapture that, you can recapture your passion. Isn’t living a life doing something you are passionate about the true definition of success?

Welcome Spotlight Author Joy Lo-Bamijoko

Author PicA very warm welcome to “Spotlight” author Joy Lo-Bamijoko. Joy is a member of Rave Reviews Book Club.

Joy Nwosu was born in Enugu, Anambra State of south-eastern Nigeria. Her parents were Charles Belonwu and Deborah Nwosu. She is the fifth in rank of the seven children of her parents. Joy was born into a music family.

book-coverJoy, now retired, was a music teacher, trained in Santa Cecilia, Rome, and obtained her Ph.D. in Music Education from the University of Michigan, USA.

She has written and published extensively in national and international scholarly journals, magazines, and newspapers.

Her short story I Come from Utopia was published in African Voices, Spring/Summer, 2007, pg. 18, and her first English novel; Mirror of Our Lives: Voices of Four Igbo Women was published in 2011, and was shortlisted for the Commonwealth Book Contest in 2012. She has also two books published in Italian.

Joy is a trained musician, and taught music for 35 years.  She writes, performs, and records folk songs.

The Legend of the Walking Dead: Igbo Mythologies

Nigerian Death Legends Come Alive in ‘the Walking Dead

(An Excerpt): A Place Called Akajiana

cover2The next morning, Gloria and her son woke up in this hollow of a home to the smell of food. Here they could be themselves again, unseen by the natives, but visible to their own likes. They sat around a solid wooden table and ate a hearty breakfast of agidi, a light corn paste, and moi moi, fried bean balls, a meal heavy enough to carry them through the day. They washed everything down with fura di nunu, a drink made from guinea corn, goat milk, and brown sugar.

In answer to Gloria’s questions, Sister Aug explained that when a new person arrived, the person was automatically assigned to the one who’d found him or her. That was why Aug had taken charge of Gloria and her son.

“I have exceeded my time here and cannot escape,” she added. “When I came here, we weren’t organized. Everyone was afraid. Each person looked for a way out by themselves. Returning was practically impossible. Today, things have changed. We have people who go and come with ease. Some people like it here; I do. For many years, I tried to get out and failed. Eventually, I resigned myself to my fate and started to make the best of my life here. More fura?”

Gloria and her son declined more of the drink. “Fura is a meal by itself and can fill the belly too much when eaten with other foods,” Gloria said. “But what do you mean by exceeding your time here?” She turned her seat around to face Sister Aug with her full attention.

“My arrival here is still a mystery to me. I suppose that everybody’s arrival here can be quite mystifying, but that doesn’t make it less mysterious. I have heard people say that they came through a stream.”

“We did,” Osondu said. For a moment, he stopped doodling on the table and paid attention to the ladies’ conversation.

“You must tell me all about it someday, Little Brother O.” Sister Aug flashed him a big smile. “I simply lost my way. One minute, I was with my friends searching for wood, and the next, I stepped into a vortex. When it was over, I found myself here. I lost my friends and my friends lost me.”

“A vortex, eh? That’s probably why you can’t get out,” Gloria said.

“Not at all. When I found out that I could leave, I tried several times. But I failed. After seven years in this place, it was too late. I resigned myself to my fate and started liking it here.”

“What’s there to like about this place?” Gloria shuddered at the thought of having to stay. “Seven years … that’s an awfully long time.” Her face creased, and she stood up and walked to the entrance of Sister Aug’s home. She took a deep breath to quell her agitation, walked back again, and turned to Sister. “I want to leave here now, not in the next seven years,” she said in a strained voice while she clasped and unclasped her hands. “How did you survive this?”

“Wait until you know the place better and hear the whole story,” Sister Aug replied.

After they had cleared the dishes from the table and washed up, Sister Aug said she wanted to show them a place on a hill at the other side of the town. They followed her out of the forbidden forest, through a hidden passage, and a path overlapped, at the top, by tall bamboo trees with thick undergrowth. Only the dwellers knew and could travel this path. They stopped in front of a large wooden door. Sister Aug snapped her fingers three times. The door opened without a sound, they stepped outside into a well-lit area, and the door closed again.

Her New Book

The Legend of the Walking Dead: Igbo Mythologies, which has just been released, is a journey into the mysteries of life and death of the Igbos of Nigeria.  She loves reading romances and mystery stories.

Buy the B&N e-Pub version

Buy the B&N e-Pub version

To learn more about Joy Nwosu Lo-Bamijoko, visit her website at: sbprabooks.com/joynwosulobamijoko or read her blog at: http://goo.gl/L967yq