Author: Jane Foard Thompson

Jane Foard Thompson is an inspirational speaker and award winning author and poet. A former Montessori teacher in Texas and Utah, for eight years Jane and her husband were missionaries in Honduras, Central America. After working for the American Red Cross in Idaho, they now live in Florida, where she writes, leads music and women's Bible studies at their church, and enjoys nine grandchildren and her Golden Retriever, Lily.

Christmas shopping ideas

Here are some excellent books for gifting

Teen

For the young person in your life, in her beautifully written, award-winning novel Like Moonlight at Low Tide, Nicole Quigley tenderly wraps hope around the hard realities of life in an American high school, including being the outsider, bullying and suicide. (It brought back strong feelings from many years ago.) This is a wonderful book for those who are suffering in those tough teen years, as well as for those who might be dishing out the pain, and need to understand the consequences.

Adult Nonfiction

Ann Voskamp’s One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are has influenced my life in a huge way. Even though I have a stack of books at least 18″ tall waiting for me, I’ve read this one three times, using a different color marker each time. I believe this is the book that I have gifted more than any other.


From Ann Voskamp’s blog I learned of Emily Freeman’s book, A Million Little Ways; Uncover the Art You Were Made to Live, and just finished it. This book is not just for those designated as artistic. Emily asserts that since we are created in the image of God, the Creator, we only truly find meaning in life when we, too, create, though in ways not limited to “the arts.” Like Ann, her writing goes beyond thoughts and facts. The writing is lyrical — living poetry that invites you into the dance.

Adult Fiction

I have a bunch of likes, but the one that stands out from those published recently is Jewel of Persia by Rosanna M White. Creating a fictional cousin to Esther and Mordecai, Rosanna masterfully wove multiple story lines and character development, and kept me up reading all night. Going deep, her story challenged me spiritually in a way nonfiction cannot.

The Younger set

One of my daughters recently discovered Chris Colfer’s The Land of Stories. They are listed for 8+, but she is reading them aloud with her 6 and 8 year-olds, and they’re having wonderful discussions concerning the power of evil and how to respond when we encounter it.


Want to share your recommendations?

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What are you waiting for?

What are you waiting for?

Advent is a time of waiting.

Advent wreath, image courtesy of marin/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Advent wreath, image courtesy of marin/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
For some it is anticipation — little children waiting for Santa Claus, older ones waiting for the gift they wanted and were told, “Wait until Christmas.”
Image courtesy of imagerymajestic/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of imagerymajestic/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Many adults are waiting for moving Christmas cantatas or Christmas Eve services, for baking cookies, family gatherings and traditional feasts. For Christmas.

On the other hand, for some this waiting is almost a dread – the press of decorating, shopping, wrapping, mailing, crowded roads and stores, or mindless chatter with people you barely know at parties.

Perhaps it is the fresh pain of Christmas without a lost loved one, or the long agony of being with those who should be loved ones, who hurt us instead.

Image courtesy of Suat Eman/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of Suat Eman/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

When I was little, on Christmas Eve my father and brothers would cut down a tree out in the woods and drag it to the house. Already started on his liquor, my father would put the tree up for Santa to decorate. On Christmas morning we’d awaken to a beautifully decorated tree and presents below.

Somewhere between five and six, I became “Santa” when my father passed out before doing any Santa duties. My mother, exhausted with my baby brother, asked me to step in. Every year after that, I decorated the tree when the others went to bed. It wasn’t long before I did all the house decorations and wrapped the gifts as well.

Alone with the glow of tree lights, every Christmas I waited for some kind of magic to happen, wished for Christmas to be wonderful and transforming. When we lived up north, the anticipation of a white Christmas brought an extra measure of hope.

Image courtesy of Feelart/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of Feelart/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

One Christmas stands out in my memories, right after I turned eleven, the year after my youngest brother drowned. For the first time, my mother insisted the family attend the midnight service. Since my baby sister was in bed, I stayed home with her. Once the house was quiet, I put on our one Christmas record and began to decorate the tree, stopping often to watch the snow fall. I was sure the magic I had longed for would come that year.

Christmas morning came with Dad hung over, Mom making sticky buns and putting the turkey in the oven, and my brothers and I opening gifts. The day went on as usual, nothing changed, nothing new.

By the time I was in junior high I no longer waited for a Christmas miracle.

When I became a mother, I tried very hard to make Christmas perfect for my children. Still, I found, as my mother had, too much was out of my control. That didn’t keep me from trying harder, starting sooner, wearing myself out more each year. Somebody deserved Christmas magic!

I was a Christian. I knew the baby whose birth we celebrated. I even made birthday cakes on Christmas day and sang “Happy Birthday” to Jesus, trying to make it more meaningful.

For so many years, I tried so hard.

The Christmas miracle came, but not when I was staring at a manger scene or singing carols, or decorating a tree. It came slowly, imperceptibly over the years, as I received more and more of Jesus into the corners of my soul where I’d hidden out.

Image courtesy of dan/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of dan/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
The baby in the manger is God, coming in human form to reclaim his own. To bring back the lost. To heal the broken heart. The make us his children.
Image courtesy of nuttakit/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Image courtesy of nuttakit/ FreeDigitalPhotos.net

As I allowed Him in to heal my heart, and as I began to really believe that I belong to Him, the star of Christmas started to glow for me.

Just as it was over 2000 years ago for Mary and Joseph on the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem, mine has been a long journey.

In the weeks to come, I’ll share some of the more poignant moments along the way.

So, what are you waiting for? Living for? Wishing for? Dreading? Hoping for?

My prayer for you

As I gave thanks on Thursday, and continued throughout the weekend, calling to mind people in my life I am grateful for, I couldn’t help thinking of you, dear reader.

Many are faithful friends and family. At times I hear from you and have a sense of what is going on inside your life. At times I have to read between the lines, or silences.

Others of you are strangers, connected through the wonder of words and Wi-Fi. If you’re a fellow writer or blogger, I read your words, searching your face and listening for the link between us.

My heart goes out to the young lady with the world on her shoulders, as well as the one who feels invisible. Having spent the early years of my life as a shadow, I know that land far too well. 

© Jack H Thompson
© Jack H Thompson

Yesterday, we celebrated with our five-year-old granddaughter, her home packed with family and school friends to wish her Happy Birthday. I watched her efforts to relate to many different personalities, the whirl of activity, so many people and interests calling for her engagement.

©Jack H Thompson
©Jack H Thompson

When I compose my blog, sometimes the ideas and words take shape before I even sit at the computer. Other days, trying to reach out to each of you, I am frustrated, knowing I can’t touch you all at one time. Like my granddaughter, my thoughts dash this way and that, seeking an encounter that holds meaning, something that will send you from this party the better for it.

As I often do when in need of inspiration or guidance, I opened the Bible, in this case, the YouVersion app on my phone. I scanned my bookmarks and found what I would say if we could sit together on the patio, or under a palm tree, in front of the fireplace, or walking on a snowy path.

©Jack H Thompson
©Jack H Thompson

My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth.

sunset on Marco Island

I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—

that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in.Amberley door

And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, 

©Jack H Thompson
©Jack H Thompson

you’ll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ’s love.

Reach out and experience the breadth!

Test its length! Plumb the depths!

Rise to the heights!

Lily coming out of the water retrieving

         Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.                                       Ephesians 3:14-19 The Message