Reflections on Turning Seventy

Yesterday I celebrated my seventieth birthday. As I drove to my writers group, a short message on the radio interrupted my reflections about my life. The speaker said something to the effect that in the next few weeks, many thousands of us would be listening to the greatest oratorio of all time, Handel's Messiah.

My thoughts flew back to my senior year of high school in Seward, Alaska, when I sang The Messiah for the first time, including the soprano solos, in the combined local church choirs under the direction of the high school music teacher. I fell in love with the soaring music. Singing the libretto that came straight from the Bible imprinted those Scriptures upon my memory.

In college, I majored in vocal music. Every year, we performed The Messiah. I even included an aria from The Messiah, "If God Be for Us, Who Can Be Against Us," in the program of my senior recital.

Portrait of George Frideric Handel
Courtesy of Google.com

Somewhere along the way, I learned the story behind the composing of The Messiah. George Frideric Handel was a child prodigy. His father tried to steer him into the legal profession, but the organ, harpsichord, and violin captured his attention. Once when young George was improvising on the organ, Duke Johann Adolf overheard it and exclaimed, "Who is that remarkable child?"

Soon, Handel began composing operas, first in Italy then in London. While only in his twenties, he became the talk of England and the best paid composer on earth. Every one of his performances was sold out. His fame spread worldwide. He started the Royal Academy of Music.

But the glory didn't last. (It never does, does it?) Attendance dwindled. His music was considered to be outdated. (I can certainly identify with that.) Younger musicians eclipsed the aging composer.

Handel continued to compose, but each new project failed. Soon, his money was gone. All the stress caused a palsy that crippled some of his fingers, a death knell for an organist. A sense of failure pushed him into the further agony of depression.

Yet, his troubles matured him. His sharp tongue softened. His temper mellowed. And his music showed a depth of feeling as never before.

In 1741, Handel received a post from Charles Jennens. It contained a word-for-word collection of biblical texts about Christ. As Handel read the opening words from Isaiah 40, "Comfort ye, comfort ye my people...," he was so moved that he began to compose music for the passage. In 23 days, he set the entire collection to music and called it The Messiah.

Handel's Original Score of the "Amen Chorus"
Courtesy of Google.com

Composing such a massive work in 23 days is unheard of. Trying to describe the experience later, Handel said, "Whether I was in the body or out of the body when I wrote it, I know not."

The Messiah opened in London to huge crowds on March 23, 1743, with Handel conducting from his harpsichord. King George II was present. As the choir sang the immortal words to the Hallelujah Chorus, the king leaped to his feet in recognition of the "King of kings and Lord of lords."

My copy of The Messiah

Handel's fame was rekindled. His best days came after the trials of life had matured him. Few people can name one of his operas. But to this day, The Messiah is the world's most often performed oratorio, and audiences everywhere stand in reverence to the King who "shall reign forever and ever."

Yesterday, the memory of Handel's story renewed my spirit. I may be seventy, but perhaps my best and most productive days are still ahead.

Have you ever felt that your best days are behind you? How do you encourage yourself when you feel down? I'd love to read your comments.


To receive an e-mail notice when I write a new blog post, please complete the short form in the adjoining column.

Are You a Pilgrim?

The First Thanksgiving 1621   Courtesy Goggle.com

The first Thanksgiving was celebrated by the Pilgrims in 1621. The Pilgrims had set sail from England on the Mayflower in the fall of 1620 to find a place where they could practice their religious convictions free from the persecution they endured in England.

The trip was no pleasant cruise. A North Atlantic winter storm nearly sank the ship. Short on food, water, and firewood, cold, damp, and hungry, they sickened and many of the original number died en route. Others succumbed to the harsh winter as they struggled to establish a colony.

Governor William Bradford
Courtesy Google.com

Governor William Bradford described the perils of their struggle: "So they committed themselves to the will of God and resolved to proceed. Being thus arrived in a good harbor and brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees and blessed the God of Heaven who had brought them over the vast and furious ocean and delivered them from all the perils and miseries thereof, again to set their feet on the firm and stable earth, their proper element.

"Thus, out of small beginnings greater things have been produced by His hand that made all things of nothing and gives being to all things that are; and as one small candle may light a thousand, so the light here kindled hath shone unto many, yea in some sort to our whole nation."

Less than half of the original Pilgrims survived the journey and that first winter. Yet, they certainly fit the biblical definition of pilgrims in Hebrews 11:13, 16 (NKJV):

"These all died in faith, not having the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. They desire a ...heavenly country. Therefore, God...has prepared a city for them."

The Pilgrims desired a country where they could build a community based on biblical principles for their children. Those who died did not received their desires in this life, yet they prepared the way for those of us who have come after them. And they entered the eternal City God had prepared for them.

How about you? Are you a pilgrim? Are you by faith embracing God's promises as strangers and pilgrims on this earth, desiring a heavenly country? Then, you are a pilgrim.

The proof of our faith is not that we receive the promises of God in this life, but that we run the race of life so as to obtain a good reputation with God and man because of our faithfulness (Hebrews 11:39-40).

This Thanksgiving Day, no matter what our situation in this life at this time, let us give thanks to God with grateful hearts for His promises fulfilled and yet to be fulfilled--in this life or in the next.


To receive an e-mail announcing each new weekly post, please sign up in the next column where it says, "Subscribe to follow by e-mail."

Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

I can't remember when I first heard the song, "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus." It was probably in the church I attended as a child in Juneau, Alaska. 

The song has held special meaning for me ever since my freshman year of college. Suffering heartbreak over unrequited love, I was lying on my bed in the dark, when the words of that song popped into my mind, and I began to hum the tune. 

As I came to the words, "And the things of earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace," my dorm room seemed to recede, and the most glorious presence enveloped me. Suddenly, everything was all right. The hurt was gone. I felt joyful and free.

A few years ago, a friend gave me a book of hymn stories, and I found the story behind "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus." The writer was Helen Howarth Lemmel, born in England into the home of a Wesleyan minister who immigrated to America when Helen was a child. She loved music and received the best music education her parents could give her.

As a young adult, Helen returned to Europe to study music. There, she met and married a wealthy European, but he left her when she became blind, leaving her to struggle with poverty and many heartaches.

When Helen was 55, she heard a statement that impressed her deeply: "So then, turn your eyes upon Him, look full into His face, and you will find that the things of earth will acquire a strange new dimension."

Helen Howarth Lemmel
1863-1961

"I stood still," Helen said, "and singing in my soul and spirit was the chorus, with not one conscious moment of putting word to word to make rhyme, or note to note to make melody. The verses were written the same week, after the usual manner of composition, but nonetheless dictated by the Holy Spirit."

Although Helen was nearly destitute in her advanced years, her joy and enthusiasm amazed others. When asked how she was doing, she would say, "I'm doing well in all the things that count."

She was always composing hymns. Since she had no way of writing them down because of her blindness, she would call a friend at all hours, and he would rush to her side so he could record the words before she forgot them.

Helen died in 1961, thirteen days before her ninety-eighth birthday. She left nearly five hundred hymns she had written in her lifetime.

Helen had learned that the way to find real joy was to look into the face of Jesus, "the author and finisher of our faith" (Hebrews 12:2). 

That experience in college taught me to sing those words whenever times of sorrow and disappointment come my way. When I look "full in His wonderful face," I have found that "the things of earth [do] grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace," and real joy replaces the heartache.

What hymn brings you comfort and joy?

A Vietnam Veteran's Memories

(Since tomorrow is Veteran's Day, I am posting this week's blog earlier than usual.)

Captain Robert J, Conti, U. S. Army

On June 9, 1969, the day before our second wedding anniversary, my husband took off from the airport in Anchorage, Alaska, and headed for Vietnam. At midnight, he crossed the International Dateline and totally missed our anniversary that year. So I have celebrated one more anniversary than he has! 

As an infantry officer, he was assigned to the 82nd Airborne. In that assignment, Bob was involved in something called “fireflies”--night operations with helicopters.

One large helicopter was equipped with a big searchlight made of large aircraft landing lights. A couple of other helicopters carried rockets and bombs. The observation helicopter would fly high above using infra red to navigate while the others flew near the ground.

At night they'd fly in the dark with no lights until they were over their target. Then, the command helicopter, which Bob flew in, would switch on the lights, making it an easy target for the enemy, while the other two would fly in from the left and the right, crisscrossing under the command helicopter, firing rockets and dropping bombs. It was hazardous. Some of his friends cracked up doing the same thing and died.  

Bob in Vietnam in 1969

Bob says, "Every night I’d have to wait for a helicopter to come to the fire base to pick me up. The waiting was the worst part. I began to understand fear. I’m not talking about just being scared. I mean a fear that gnaws at you and tugs at your nerves.

"The fireflies took place about one or two a.m. I used to wonder if I’d see the sun come up in the morning. Once, we got caught in a monsoon rainstorm and couldn't see in any direction. I really learned about fear that time.

"During those months, I began to draw closer to the Lord. That well-known hymn, “It Is Well with My Soul,” often came into my heart and mind. I kept thinking that no matter what happened, with Jesus, it is well with my soul. I can handle it. I did. And I made it through.

"One time, as my unit was being relieved by another unit at a fire base, I got into the command chopper with my pilot, and we lifted off. Immediately, the command chopper of the next battalion landed. Other choppers were coming in behind him.

"Suddenly, Viet Cong soldiers sprang up out of the grass right next to the landing area and fired away, killing their S3 officer and severely wounding the others. The VC had infiltrated during the change over and were already in place when I jogged to my chopper. The man sitting in the same position in that helicopter that I sat in on my chopper had his arm and leg shot off. I thank God that He protected me on that occasion. I didn’t even get a scratch."

The 82nd Airborne went home after six months, and Bob had six more to go, so he was assigned as an intelligence officer, S2, on an advisory team to a Vietnamese unit in Tay Ninh Province. "We had to ride in helicopters a lot. I made it a practice not to fly unless my job required it.

"Two weeks before I came home, my best friend, Major Barton, the S3 officer on the advisory team, invited me to fly along with him to visit the province chief that Sunday morning. It was a beautiful day, but I said no. I wanted to go to church and then write letters to my wife. That day his helicopter crashed, and all on board were killed."

At the end of the longest year of our lives, Bob returned home on Memorial Day, 1970. Although he suffers from the effects of exposure to Agent Orange, I am especially thankful every Veteran's Day that my husband came home from Vietnam unharmed.

I'd love to hear about a veteran you'd like to honor.

Mended Heart

Ever since my husband Bob had triple bypass surgery on his heart in the spring of 2000, he has suffered with varying degrees of congestive heart failure and possible sudden death syndrome due to ventricular fibrillation. The VA has determined that his heart condition, along with diabetes, is a result of exposure to Agent Orange in Vietnam.

In 2008, his body swelled up. I had to buy him bigger clothes. Huge water blisters erupted on his legs as fluid oozed out. He couldn't breathe lying in bed, so he had to sit up in a recliner to sleep.

His cardiologist tried to correct the problem with medication, but after several months, he was no better. When I awoke each morning, I wondered if he would still be with me.

One night as I crawled into an empty bed, I simply prayed, "Lord, please heal my husband."

During the next few weeks, the swelling began to recede and the water blisters dried up. Even so, his cardiologist decided that he needed to have a cardioverter defibrillator (ICD) implanted, which would require a one-hour surgery. The day of the surgery, I sat in the waiting room long after all the others had been called back to their loved ones' bedsides. After four hours, Bob's doctor finally appeared.

Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator (ICD)

"We've been trying all this time but were unable to get the 'third' wire into place," the arrhythmia specialist said. "Despite his size [Bob's 6'4" tall], his veins are small. Let's see how he does. If he needs the 'third' lead, we can send him to New York City, where they can insert it between his ribs and wrap it around his heart."

Bob recovered quickly, and for quite a while his congestive heart failure was well controlled with the "first" lead (he only needed the first and third leads for his condition). It was a comfort to us for him to have his own personal EMT on board in case of potentially fatal arrhythmias.

Then at his heart checkup in 2014, his cardiologist recommended that he have another open-heart surgery to replace his mitral valve. At that time, the surgeon planned to wrap the "third" wire around his heart, but he found too much scar tissue so he couldn't do it. Bob came through that seven-hour surgery well and surprised the medical staff at how quickly he recovered.

But as the months passed, he didn't feel was well as he had expected. On our road trip to Washington State this summer, he had so much trouble breathing, especially in the mountains and high plains, that he told everyone this would be our last trip west.

This fall, his doctors decided that it was time to replace his defibrillator. "We'll try again to get that 'third' lead in. Technology's better now," they said.

October 7th, 2015, Bob was wheeled into the OR for the one-hour procedure. In the waiting room I counted down the hour then another hour and another. I knew they were having trouble inserting that 'third' wire.

The Three Leads

As I was praying more fervently, a verse from Isaiah suddenly popped into my mind that God would "make the crooked paths straight." I claimed that promise for the vein into Bob's heart.

After nearly four hours, Bob's doctor appeared in the doorway. "We knew from the last time that we might have trouble with that "third" wire," he said.

Oh, no, I thought, afraid he was going to give me bad news.

"There are three veins available," he continued. "We couldn't get it into the first two and were just about to give up on the third one when all of a sudden it surprised us and popped in."

"I was praying," I told him.

It's been four weeks, and Bob is back to his daily hour-long walk and has been telling me over and over how much better he feels. "I'm even thinking about another trip out West next summer," he says.

I'd love to hear about a time God has sent his Word and touched you in a special way.

To receive a weekly e-mail of more Nuggets of Faith, please sign up in the form in the next column.

Nuggets of Faith Interviews Tracie Peterson, Bestselling, Award-winning Christian Author

Author Tracie Peterson

Tracie Peterson, bestselling, award-winning author, has written more than 100 books of historical and contemporary Christian fiction. Included in that number are several compilations of novellas and series of full-length novels set in Alaska.

Tracie, thank you for so graciously granting me this opportunity to interview you via e-mail for my blog. I grew up in Alaska and have read all your books set in that beautiful place, as well as many of your other series. Unlike some novels set in Alaska, yours are thoroughly researched, accurate, and true to Alaska. I have admired your work ever since I read Alaska, your compilation of four historical novellas published by Barbour Publishing, Inc.

First, would you share a little about yourself—anything
you’d like to tell us so we can get a feel for who you are as a person?

Tracie: I’m a Christian, wife, mother, grandmother, and transplanted Montanan. I was born and raised in Kansas but have always been a mountain girl. My writing is a ministry, and I love sharing God’s Word in my stories.

What life experiences have contributed to your writing? In what way?

Tracie: I think everything enjoyed and endured has played a part in my writing. I love telling stories and everyday life is full of examples–be it in characters around me, settings, events, etc.

On your website you said that God had called you to write Christian fiction. How and when did you know?

Tracie: Since I was a little girl, I knew I was called to serve God, but I wasn’t sure how that would play out except in being a living example of His love. I have always loved writing, and when I was very young, my mother would give me a piece of paper and a pencil to keep me quiet in church. She’d tell me to “write a story” so I credit her with stirring that desire. After church she asked me to “tell my story” so I know that couldn’t help but develop my storytelling abilities. As I got older, I knew that writing was something I wanted to do, and I knew I could turn it into a ministry by including events, characters, and situations that would resonate with readers.


How long does it take you to write a novel?

Tracie: I write anywhere from 3-5 novels a year. I always write 3 of my own and sometimes write with co-authors for others. For each of my solo books I have 4 months to dedicate specifically to them.

What is your process in writing a book? How much time do you write each day?

Tracie: I usually am working on 3, even 4 books at the same time. I’m researching ideas for a new book, while plotting out the next novel, while writing the current novel and often doing galley proofs on a 4th. I write from a detailed synopsis so the first draft is written fast and furious and usually takes about a month. Each morning I read over what I wrote the day before and then start writing again. I have a goal to write a chapter a day. Sometimes I write more, but usually I just focus on one chapter. Sometimes that takes a couple of hours, sometimes it takes all day.

How do you do your research? Do you travel to the location of the setting? Have you ever been to Alaska?

Tracie: I always try to visit the places I write about. There is so much information to be had when you do that. I employ my husband as a historian, and he is able to help me dig up all the information needed for the stories. Often we visit a place, take photographs then look at historical photographs and judge how the lay of the land has changed and why. We visit local museums and talk to local historians. They are often able to steer us towards materials and information that we might have overlooked. We also love to pick up regional books and maps when in those setting locations, as well as talk to people who have lived there for a long time–even have multiple generations who lived in the area. The stories they pass along are often quite amazing.

What is your biggest challenge in writing your novels?

Tracie: Time and the rest of the world. There are only so many hours in a day, and often that gets consumed with the routine needs that every family has. It’s really important for me to plan things out and be very guarded with my writing time.

How did you find your publisher(s)? Through an agent? How long did it take? To writers who are just starting out, what would you recommend about how to get published?

Tracie: When I started decades ago, I didn’t know much about what I was doing. I did know to attend writers’ conferences and join writers’ groups, and I encourage writers to do that even today. I had a great many rejections and practice manuscripts, and then in 1992 I received my first contract. I didn’t have an agent and still don’t, however, in this day and age I think writers will need one. Again, they can hook up with agents at writers’ conferences, as well as publishers. Writers need to network and connect. Conferences and local writer groups are invaluable and a great place to start.


What advice would you like to share with me and other writers?

Tracie: Don’t give up, first and foremost. Second, don’t be afraid to learn–even when you think you know it all. Having an English degree or having written for a newspaper doesn’t equal knowing how to write a novel. I still enjoy sitting in on very basic writing classes as refreshers, but also because after 100+ books it’s good to review. Not only that, but a lot in writing is changing and will continue to do so.

This also brings up another thing–read. Read as much as you can. Read old classics; read what’s on the current bestseller list. Tear it apart to see why you think it works. Study the characters, the setting, and the plot. See how the author builds tension, resolves conflict, and keeps you turning the page.

Last of all, do your research and give each project your best. A lack of attention to detail will make the story weak, and readers love to point out where you have failed to meet their expectations or where you’ve made an error. Accuracy is needed in historical or contemporary settings and will only make your story stronger.


What is your contact information?

Tracie's newest book

Tracie: Readers can reach me through my website at www.traciepeterson.com, or my email tjpbooks@aol.com,

or my Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/AuthorTraciePeterson

Thank you, Tracie, for taking precious time out of your busy schedule to share all this helpful information and advice with those of us who don’t have as much experience as you.

Be sure to visit Tracie's website for information about all of her books.

To receive an e-mail notice of a new blog post on AnnaLee Conti's blog, "Nuggets of Faith," once a week, please sign up in the "Subscribe" column. Thank you.

The Bottom of the Barrel

A writing prompt at my ladies writing group yesterday transported me back to this day in the early sixties in Alaska when my parents pastored a small missions church in Seward (From Pelican to Seward):

The Cousarts & Personeuses at our church in Seward
(The author is fifth from left)

My dad lugged a huge box covered in postage and stickers into the dining room. "A missionary barrel!" he announced.

Occasionally, we received a "missionary barrel" from ladies groups in churches "Outside" (Alaskans' reference to the south 48 States).

Previous barrels had contained colorful handmade quilts and crocheted afghans, which warmed our beds for many years, sheets and carefully embroidered pillow cases, or toys and gifts.

Eagerly, we all gathered around. "What's in it?"

My dad cut the twine, and my mother began to lift out the contents, one item at a time:

Used clothing more suitable for Africa than Alaska's cold climate. Our smiles faded.

A packet of used tea bags with a note attached: "We sacrificed our second cup of tea for you."

My dad snorted. "What a waste! Why didn't they just send us the money they spent for shipping? We could have bought a whole case of new tea bags."

The last item in the box was a drab, moth-eaten wool coat with a fur collar attached. My mother examined it carefully. "This collar looks nice. Maybe I can find another coat to wear it with."

My dad stuffed everything but the collar back into the box and carted it off to the dump. Shoulders drooping, we slumped away to finish our chores.

A few weeks later, my folks had to drive the 120 miles to Anchorage on business. While there, they stopped at a furrier to have the fur collar evaluated.

"What a beautiful silver fox!" the furrier said. "It's worth about $75.00" (in the early sixties).

My dad insisted she buy a new coat for that silver fox collar.

How elegant she looked in her new red wool coat with that fur collar which kept her warm during many Alaskan winters!

The Cousart Family a few years later.
Mother wearing the red coat with the fur collar 

Have you noticed that in life when God leads us through difficult trials, He often rewards us at the end? The reward may not be tangible, but when we keep a good attitude, we look back and see that we have grown in grace.

God often places a nice surprise at the bottom of the barrel.

I'd love to hear about a "bottom of the barrel" experience you've had.