It feels like a month of Sundays since I last posted a blog. So much has happened, I really don’t know where to begin. Last night I emailed Far Side of the Sea to my editor. What a relief! Now I’m praying she likes it, and other folks enjoy the story too. Getting the book finished felt like such a battle. I thought for sure after harvest, with the boys all in school, I’d have more time to write.

Wrong!

Each day little emergencies arose the kept me from writing. I can’t even remember all that went wrong in the past two months, but finally I told everyone, “I will not be answering my phone! My door! Or my social media until I finish my book! Please don’t contact me. Thanks so much!”

The next morning while writing, I heard an explosion. Looking out the window, I saw a streak of weird white smoke in the sky just beyond the hill in front of our house. Keep writing! I told myself. Maybe a tractor blew up or something. It never dawned on me someone could have been hurt in this explosion.

About five minutes later, my mom knocked on my door. “Mom! I told you I have to finish my book!” I said when I unlocked the door for her.

“There’s a fire!” she said, pointing to smoke in the sky just over the hill.

“I don’t care if my house burns down today! I am writing!” I said.

“Well, you should go check it out,” she insisted. “That’s some weird black smoke.”

“I’m writing!” I threw my hands in the air in exasperation.

“Okayyyyy, but you really should see what that fire is all about,” my mom said as she walked back to her car. She headed down the road in the opposite direction of the fire.

I locked the door and went back to my laptop at the kitchen table. Minutes later a military jet roared over our house. What on earth! I jumped up and went back out on my front porch. Jets from Beale Air Force Base were circling the growing fire. Could it be a bomb I’d heard explode? I really could not fathom what was happening.

Oh my gosh! I cannot believe this on the day I promised myself to write come hell or high water! I grabbed my car keys and jogged to my car. I drove down our drive way, hit the quiet country road, rounded the bend, and there was a burning plane.

The farmers were all parking their pickups on the road. I got out of my car and one of the guys who works for us pulled up in his truck. “It’s a U-2 spy plane,” Ted said, and I just couldn’t wrap my mind around this. Ted lives right next to Beale Air Force Base and his wife had called him. Sirens were closing in on the crash site now. My heart was pounding so hard. “I’m going home,” I said. “There’s nothing I can do here but get in the way.”

I went back to my car and drove the minute home. My phone was ringing and didn’t stop ringing and buzzing with messages for the rest of the day, everyone wanting to know if I was okay. It never occurred to me why they were asking if I was okay until my dad stopped by the house that afternoon. He walked in the door and stood there staring at me with a funny look on his face.

“A few more minutes of that plane in the sky and you’d be dead,” Dad said, and I looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “It was right on target to hit your house,” he explained.

I walked over and gave my daddy a hug. He’s a civil engineer and has been doing calculations all my life. I could tell he really was shaken up after calculating that crash so close to our house.

“I’m okay,” I said. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever get this stupid book finished.” Tears filled my eyes. It wasn’t really my book I was upset about. It was the missing pilot. I’d heard through social media two pilots ejected from the plane as it went down. Some reports said both pilots were fine, other reports weren’t so good. I’d been praying for the pilots safety from the moment Ted said it was a U-2 spy plane. Usually U-2’s are flown by one pilot, but this was a training aircraft which meant two pilots were in the plane.

I knew all about U-2 pilots. My first writing job was for Beale Air Force Base’s newspaper. My first big story when I was a baby writer in my twenties was about a U-2 plane crash, really an emergency landing in England where the pilot and plane both survived. The pilot liked my story so much he took me under his wing, and opened the door at Beale for me to write a series of exciting U-2 stories. I rode in the U-2 chase cars with the pilots, went on survival training to the mountains with the pilots, and nearly got to ride in one of those little training jets that were buzzing my house after the crash. But I was a military pilot’s wife at the time, married to my Army helicopter pilot, and pilots’ wives weren’t allow in any military aircraft.

In a nutshell, this U-2 crash not only stopped me from finishing my book that week, our road to take the boys to school was closed for an investigation. We had to drive a different route to school until they opened the road again to our house. One of the pilots didn’t survive, a father of six, a man my age with a large family like mine. It was upsetting to say the least. Now this is my drive home each day: a blackened hillside caused by the crash.

Yet, here’s what I know. This hillside will turn brilliant green in the months to come when the rains come, and probably be more beautiful because of the burn. I’ve seen it before, a fire in the hills creates a prettier spring. All the shrub is burned away, and the grass and wildflowers have more room to bloom. So I’m waiting for the bloom. Isn’t this so like our spiritual lives? We burn and then we bloom. The Bible says God uses fire to refine us.

The U-2 wasn’t the only crash to stop my writing. Our daughter Lacy crashed a week after the U-2 crashed. Northern California got its first real rain of the season, and as we walked out of church that day, I heard a lady say, “there’s gonna be a lot of wrecks with this rain.” The way the lady said it didn’t sit well with me. Perhaps because we lost Anna in a crash that shattered our family. Or perhaps the U-2 crash was fresh on my mind and another family was shattered right now. Or perhaps we’d just been in church hearing about grace, love, and mercy, and there was no mercy in the lady’s voice. And right here I have to say I’ve said plenty of merciless things in my life so I don’t hold this against the lady, I’m just telling you a story.

Pictures tell stories far better than me so here’s Lacy’s car after her crash. My mom called right as we were walking in the door after getting home from church when it happened. Lacy had been with us at church, but she headed to grocery shop with her new friend, Jake, and then was going home to get some sleep before her night shift as a ward clerk at the hospital.

So my phone rings. I answer it and my mom says, “Lacy’s in a ditch with water on Pennington road. She crashed! It’s bad!”

“What?!” I cried because “WHAT?!” explains everything when someone calls and tells you something like this about your child.

“I lost contact with Lacy,” said my mom. “She called me. She’s alone in a ditch somewhere and her phone cut out.” My mom was distraught. “Pray!” Mom said before hanging up the phone. My parents live near Pennington Road so my mom was on her way to the crash.

“SCOTT!” I screamed down the hall. “Lacy’s been in an accident! We have to go right now!”

I grabbed the car keys off the hook where I’ve just hung them up and ran out the door. Scott came after me half dressed. “Get some clothes on!” I cried, “We’ve got to go!”

The boys were playing basketball in the driveway. I tried to sound calm as I told them Lacy had been in an accident. “John take care of your brothers. You boys be good for John,” I said as I jumped in the car.

Scott hopped in with me, trying to put his tennis shoes on as I put the car in reverse. As we headed down the driveway, Scott asked, “Do you have my phone?”

“Why would I have your phone?” I said, trying not to speed down our dirt road.

Scott opens the car door while I’m still driving. “I need my phone,” he says urgently.

“WHAT are you doing?! I’m not going back to the house. Lacy is in a ditch with water in it!”

Scott jumped out of the moving car. “I need my phone. I’ll take my truck and meet you there!” He started jogging back down the driveway with his shoes untied, wearing shorts in the rain.

By now I realize we are both in a state of shock. Oh Jesus! Is she okay? I prayed with my heart in my throat.

She’s okay, I heard the Lord say in a calm, quiet way. Jesus’ assurance sent a bolt of relief through me.

I turned out onto our quiet country road and realized I had to go the long way around the Buttes because of the U-2 crash. She’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay, I chanted to myself as I backed up to turn the other way on the road. Then I did my best to drive slow– like 75 miles an hour slow– because my daughter was alone in a ditch full of water.

I called Jake because he’s the last person I knew Lacy was with after church. This young man from church Scott and I invited over for Sunday dinner for months before he finally said yes. We’ve been shamelessly trying to set Lacy up with him. I left Jake a message because he didn’t answer his phone. A few minutes later Jake called me back. “Lacy’s been in an accident,” I told him. “When did she leave you? Was she upset about anything?”

Jake assured me Lacy was fine when he last saw her. “I’m headed to Pennington Road,” I told Jake. “She’s in a ditch somewhere on that road.”

“Can I come?” Jake asked.

“Yes, please come,” I told him without double thinking it. It’s not like Jake’s her boyfriend, they’ve known each other maybe two weeks at this point, but I’m not going to analyze anything, I just want to get to Lace.

Another picture to tell the story better than me: Jake and Lacy in the emergency room later that day. She’s gonna kill me for posting this picture, but Jake kept her laughing the whole time, and miraculously she wasn’t really hurt in the accident. The highway patrolman said Lacy was beyond lucky. She was going way too fast in the rain when she lost control of her vehicle and sideswiped a telephone pole before hitting the ditch.

And here they are a month later on a Sunday afternoon. Aren’t they adorable? The puppies of course! Our kids have been having so much fun with these puppies.

Our oldest daughter Cami has been coming around just to hold them.

After the month I’ve had, I think I’ll just spend the next few weeks holding puppies. Do you know petting a puppy lowers your blood pressure? So does mowing the lawn.

I used to love mowing the lawn, but John has taken over my lawn mowing job because I’ve been trying to finish my book. Gotta love a barefoot farm boy. Of course John should be wearing shoes on that mower, and a shirt would be nice, but he’s getting the job done so I’ll keep my mouth shut.

I’ve been living for Sundays lately. I usually don’t let myself write on Sundays. It’s our family day. We go to church. We hang out with the puppies. We enjoy a family dinner. Sometimes we play a family football game after eating, which really isn’t that smart since everyone feels like throwing up after a few plays.

Anyway, I just wanted to reconnect with all of you, tell you I’ve missed you, and thank you for being patient with me as I finish my second novel. To be honest, I’m not sure I’m cut out to be a novelist, but since I was eight years old, I’ve wanted to be an author, so I’m giving it my best shot.

Today was the first day I didn’t sit down at our kitchen table to work on my book. Instead, I moved the puppies out of their kiddie pool into the horse trailer. If you’re wondering why these puppies mean so much to me, let’s just say they did not come easy. We have two beautiful registered yellow labs, but they haven’t been able to breed. I know! Another unbelievable thing. Buck, our male, just can’t get the job done so we’ve attempted artificial insemination three times with these dogs over the past two years. Don’t even ask me how this is done, it involves a trip to the vet, and my assistance is all I’ll say. Talk about shameless! But we really, really, really wanted a puppy from our dogs. Nala, the mom, is getting old and we are thrilled to get puppies out of her and Buck before it’s too late.

So now that I’ve filled you in on my month of Sundays, I’ll leave you with one last lovely puppy picture. Happy autumn dear friends!