To Tamara, On Her 35th Birthday

For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway in the wilderness. I will create rivers in a dry wasteland. ~Isaiah 43:19

Greetings Friends,

Relaxing on the fourth, provided great scope for reflection and of course more imaginative day dreaming. Well, it’s official! I will be thirty-five years old on August 30th and I can’t say that I’m hating it at all. I know that there are still some desires that have yet to be fulfilled in my life. But this fact doesn’t have me running to the freezer diving into a pint of Halo Top to numb my sorrows.

The fact of the matter is: I am really blessed. Alot of people don’t make it to see their 35th birthday. So, I would consider myself abundantly fortunate. As long as there is breath in my lungs, there will be new ambitions, dreams and goals for me to explore. Besides, I wouldn’t trade my life for anything in the world because, it is preparing me for the journey ahead. Every season of life has a purpose.

I look at myself like a Bronte sister dipped in honey because, just like the brilliant Bronte sisters; I have elected to take care of my widowed father while working on my writing craft. Of course, one can never learn too much and will never learn enough to know everything. I am comfortable being a life long learner and absorber of life.

And what better way to begin my 35th year then going back to school? Full Sail University Online to be exact! I have always wanted to work on my screenwriting craft and hone my novel writing skills as well. Now, I have the exciting chance to do just that. I’ve taken so many fearless faith jumps this year. Why not attempt another one?

I adore jumping just to see if I will fall or fly. I love diving into the torrential sea just to see if I will sink or swim. I can’t get enough of attempting to climb a gigantic mountain, just to see if I can make it to the peak, or just miss the majestic view from the top. Life is nothing without a little risk. In those times of crashing and burning, we build character and who knows maybe next time we really will fly!

Tamara 😁

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A Rest Beside Still Water

From the ends of the Earth, I cry to you for help when my heart is overwhelmed. Lead me to the towering rock of safety. ~Psalm 61:2

Hey Friends,

I know it has been a long, long while since I have blogged. But I have been kinda busy, between all the hashtag games for writers, giving words of light and love in the midst of all the chaos going on in the world today and “stalking” my super sweet crush online *blushes in embarrassment* (I’m sure he will be thankful for the rest from my mindless blabbings to his stories questions on Instagram). Anyhoo, I have depleted myself and need a recharge. Have you ever felt as if your cup is completely empty, and you just need to spend a day or two with the ultimate Lover of your soul.

Well, Tamara is pretty much there right now. And how can I encourage anyone when my cup is currently empty? I just want to be a blessing to people, and right now I need to recharge to continue doing that. I am spiritually wiped and in need of refreshment. So, I will often unplug from all the noise on social media to do this. And this gives me fuel to continue on my calling from God to touch the world with words. Like Popeye needed his spinach to stay strong. Sometimes, all I need is an outpouring of God’s Spirit through His beautiful love letter to me.

God’s still small voice is my quiet stream in the midst of all the chaos! If you want to check in on me, feel free to message me through messenger, I have the app on my phone and will answer you. Or you can email me as well and I will answer. If not, please and I do mean please keep me in your prayers. There is a lot going on over here at the Canty homestead and prayers would be much appreciated right now. I love you all major bunches, and I will be back at the hashtag writery games on Saturday. Until then I’ll miss you all.

With the Fiercest Love,

Tamara ❤

The Nightingale Meets the Lark

Greetings,

Here is a short story, that I just wrote today. Some of the lines that I submitted to 1LineWed prompted me to take the story further. So, here it goes!

Nightingale Meets the Lark
I crossed my arms about my chest, and I waited for her, melting inconspicuously into the darkness. I was the Hooded Nightingale, and I knew that she was coming, because I had seen her many times before over the last hundred years. She seemed to be as immortal as I was, we had both maintained the youthful glow of two people in their early thirties while we had to be well over a century. The first time I encountered the mysterious cloaked beauty was Vicenza, Italy 1918, when she took down a small-time burglar that I could have easily taken down myself. It left me questioning when exactly I acquired a side-kick.
I just stood back admiring her magnificence. She took the scum down with such graceful precision, and almost as if she could sense my presence in the darkness, she threw back the hood to her pure white cloak and gave me a flirty wink and a smile. I will never forget her dark caramel eyes, and how they electrified my soul or her smooth honey almond skin that I ached to touch and then there were her long raven curls, that I could tangle my fingers in for hours. But just as I gained courage to move, she giggled softly putting her cloak’s hood back over her head. And then she was gone, vanished into the streaming beams of moonlight. I questioned my sanity for many years after that, until I encountered her enigmatic presence once again. This time in New Orleans in a Bourbon St. alley, during Mardi Gras; where a defenseless woman had nearly fallen prey to a scoundrel’s vicious attack. Just when I was about to swoop in and save the day, there she was; my caramel eyed angel in white. This time we took the animal down together. The poor woman uncontrollably sobbed her thanks, before speed walking from the alley on shaky legs, leaving me alone with an incapacitated villain and my lovely co-crime fighter.
I didn’t waste a moment battling with fear. I approached her hastily before she could disappear again. However, I still wasn’t fast enough, she vanished into the fog of the alley leaving her melodious little giggle behind her.
1979, Berlin it was the same, she melted into the elements around her just narrowly escaping my grasp.
2000, Florida, I came closer than I ever had before when I embraced her in my arms but I still lost hold of her, when she flowed into the foam of the sea with that dazzling smile of hers.
It was currently 2018, and I stood perched high above Manhattan, looking out for injustice while keeping watch for her. I knew that, the graceful avenging angel cloaked in white was once again working my beat, and tonight the humble little do-gooder would give an account for it. Since I had no real name for her, I had long ago dubbed her the Cloaked Lark, and tonight I would finally capture the heroic maven who could shift into the elements.
“Hello, Blake Monroe.” Her voice was a soothing river, I had wondered what her voice would sound like, dreamed about it even. However, all the colors of her voice far outweighed my sweetest dreams.
She came near, and I shuddered at her closeness. She didn’t remove her cloaked hood this time, she giggled as I took on that task for her. Disappointment rose in me, when I noticed that she had braided her raven curls in one long braid that flowed down her back.
“Who are you?” Were the only words that my paralyzed tongue would produce. And how could she possibly know my name, when I had searched far and wide for hers without a trace? Over the years, I had assumed that she was a wraith of my own imagining.
“My name is Lyric Holland.” She draped her arms about my shoulders as if we were closely acquainted, and I supposed we were, seeing as how she had been the only constant in my life for a century.
I couldn’t help but think just how perfect her name was for her, Lyric what a perfect name for a breathtaking lark. I enveloped my arms around her and drew her near to me; feeling her heartbeat colliding with mine felt completely unreal.
“How do you know my name, but I have been denied yours?” My tongue seemed to loosen as she held me, as if she was soothing me with her gentle heartbeats. “I thought you were a figment of my imagination, a shooting star from some wondrous planet that could never be fully captured.”
“No, I am just like you.” She lulled tenderly. “We are different halves of one whole, which is why we can never be apart for too long. You are like air to me, Blake Monroe.”
“And you are like fire to me, Lyric Holland, where did you come from?” I rested my forehead to hers with a smile.
How could I possibly feel as if I had held her like this before.
“Because you have, my lord.” There were tears in her eyes, as she answered my thoughts and why was she calling me, my lord?
“I don’t understand.”
“We were sent to this planet to save our lives, we were reborn here, but this is not our home. We were husband and wife on our home planet Geehi. We both ruled as king and queen, but there was a usurpation by your brother, my lord. Something happened to your memories, which is why you do not remember me, I decided to withhold this message until the appropriate time.” She clung to me now.
My head was spinning, but I knew that it was true, I could feel the truth coursing through both our beings. I was the rightful king of Geehi, and my brother would not rule on my throne any longer. The war to reclaim my kingdom would soon began.

Tamara Canty

An Intergalactic Odyssey

There is one glory of the sun, and another of the moon, and another of the stars; for star differs from star in glory. ~1 Corn. 15:41

Hello Friends,

So the writer’s life is super crazy! But I wouldn’t choose any other for all the world. When beautiful inspiration strikes you at 4 A.M., you get up at 4 A.M. to chase a story. So, with that said, here is a new sci-fi/fantasy that I’m working on.

I looked upon him, from the Ever Kingdom, the beautiful professor with the otherworldly blue eyes. His mouth was always dulcet with such brilliance, and in every other way he was mindnumbingly perfect. The flame in my impenteable heart threatened to consume me, the flame was for him. He always went to the same local cafe for his morning coffee, and a few quiet moments to gather his thoughts before he had to give his first lecture of the day. How I loved to listen to him mold and shape the minds of his young students. His bass voice was a soothing song that I never grew tired of listening to. I had been there for his very first lecture. He was so nervous, but his nerves were completely unjustified, because once he found his stride; it was almost as if he had been speaking for many years. Now, his lectures were so second nature to him, that it was like breathing in and out. Professor Bryan Stephan Fareold, that was his name in the Lower Provinces or more commonly known as Earth to the humans. However, in our world he was given an entirely different name and title, his true and everlasting designation was Atrax, and he was the last True Knight and Warrior of the Kingdom of Ages, the kingdom that existed just above and beyond the Ever Kingdom.

Atrax was sent to Earth, and raised by humans to protect him from the evil Hooded Society, who sought to eradicate all True Knights. For, it had been foretold long before the billioneth planet was formed that a True Knight would be the downfall of the Hooded Society. And they had almost succeeded at destroying them all, save Atrax. All of this was unbeknownst to him, but all would be revealed in due course.

I was his Lighted Guardian, Ildiad, and to protect him was my destiny and reason for being. Children of Light could be found in abundance, at the beginning of the age, but with the extinction of the True Knights came the extinction of their guardians. The guardian could not live in the absence of their knight, because knight and guardian were too closely stitched. They became kindreds; they shared souls, hearts and spirits.

My mother was a True Knight and my father was a Lighted Guardian, so, I had all the insticts of a warrior and the gentleness of a guardian flowing through my veins; I was rare, a joining of both worlds. Knight and Guardian would form deep friendships and camaraderie, but if a knight was to marry their guardian the off spring were exceptionally gifted. It happened, but not very often. I was the last Star Child left, all others had drifted into the Kingdom of Ages long ago.

I smiled, waking from my reverie into yestetyear, as the beautiful professor with star crystals in his gaze finished his last lecture of the day.

Just as he was finishing, Hildenjara, one of the members of the Lighted Order came to the Seeing Hall to retrieve me.

“It is time, Ildiad.” She spoke somberly.

Why was she so somber? I was practically jumping out of my skin with excitement. It was time! I would finally get to become fully acquainted with my knight. But as I prepared to run from the room, Lady Hildenjara decided to stop me and star shower all over my moon gazing.

“Ildiad, I want you to know that this was not my decision, but it seems that the majority of the order would disagree with me.” She narrowed her coal dark eyes, revealing the age creases at the corners.

It was hard to believe that the Father of Ages had not taken her yet. While her midnight skin held very little signs of her age, I could tell that she was ancient; the slow rhythm of her heart revealed it.

“My lady?” I was hurt and confused at her lack of faith in me.

“Do not, even attempt to play innocent, young guardian.” She pointed her long slender finger in my direction. “I have read the hidden language of your heart, soul and spirit and it has revealed all. You, Ildiad have developed a deep attachment for Atrax.” She crossed her arms. “Do you deny it, young guardian?”

I could have lied, I supposed, but it would have been futile to do so, because she had read the deeper language that I tried to hide. I had no choice but to simply nod my assent.

She shook her head, and cleared her throat, then she took me gently by the shoulders as my mother used to.

“You must empty yourself of these nonsensical feelings, and remember that there is a greater mission at stake. Atrax is our last hope.” She pursed her lips and sighed in pain, as if her next words were stabbing her inside. “The Hooded Society just took another planet today, they move through the galaxy like a black mass, devouring everything in their path. Atrax is the only one that can end their horrendous campaign, and you are tasked with helping him to see and embrace who he really is. Your feelings, as real as they may be, dear one, should not be the main focus of your journey.” Her tone had lost all its bite, it was now smooth and sweet.

I knew that she spoke rightly, but my heart could not deny the truth of my love; and it was growing by leaps and bounds as I just stood there thinking on my True Knight.

Lady Hildenjara rolled her eyes.

“As I said previously, I do not approve of the order’s decision. I believe that your head is full of moon mist and fog, and you are far too prone to follow the music of your dreams to take any mission seriously. But again I will caution you, our lives are on the line, young guardian; if you fail, we all fall.” 

THE END

Tamara 😉

 

Crushes & Keyboards

Pleasing is the fragrance of your perfumes; your name is like perfume poured out. No wonder the young women love you! ~Song of Solomon 1:3 

Hey Friends,

What is a crush? A brief but intense infatuation for someone, especially someone unattainable or inappropriate. If there is anyone that knows the definition of this word; it would be Tamara Nicole Canty, I could probably recite it backward and forward if given the chance. Crushes seem to be synonymous with me, they are apart of my make-up. But on the plus side they are crucial to my writing, like Jane Austen and the Bronte sisters before me; a little unrequited love never hurt anyone. In fact, it serves to make quite the larger than life hero, because he is after all, life and breath to my novel, and how he interacts with his heroine is pure magic.

But how can I write of romance when I have never actually experienced it? And this may be hard to fathom, because I’m thirty-four! I mean, for all intents and purposes, I should be a mother with an adoring husband by now, and it is the love of my forever crush that should be inspiring all my prose. Alas, I still stand in patient wait for my forever crush. Until such time that, I am his; I will depend on my watchful eye and open heart to embrace a new crush, one whom I will paint into my canvas of words with loving and careful hands.

And if any are wondering whether or not I will share the name of my crush, I absolutely will because he is not likely to read this anyway. I would more likely be struck by lightning or have a conversation with the illuminating moon, or take my tea with the radiant sun than have his eyes ever grace this blog. So, I feel completely safe by sharing.

And my new crush is…wait for it…Trevor Donovan! I know, I know he’s swoon worthy and all that and some would even throw around the words hot and sexy. However, I much rather prefer the term beautiful to describe him, because the man has a lot more going for him than merely his physical beauty. I think that he has a vulnerable heart that I find most attractive. For example, he doesn’t treat his fans like fans, he treats his fans like friends. Of course, this could make him susceptible to being hurt, but he seems to take the risk without second thought.

To me this makes him more like the unattainable guy in high school that, I had a crush on; more so than some stuck-up movie star, because he is so down to Earth. Let’s just forget the fact that he is as tall as an oak tree (total hyperbolic usage there, he’s 6’2), but still! Lol! And those blue eyes, oh my goodness gracious, forget it; it’s almost as if you are diving into a million oceans just looking into them. Careful though, if you stare too long you might drown. And then there’s the cute way that he bites his bottom lip when he’s having a shy moment. Okay, okay, that’s enough of that.

The thing that I find most appealing, is the way that his mind works and the way that his soul cries out when he’s passionate about something. He provides quite a bit of scope for the imagination, and my keyboard has been singing note after flawless note; creating wondrous hero after wondrous hero with those same oceanic blue eyes, deep bass voice, shy personality and passionate spirit.

This writer needs her crushes, because I create such fabulous book boyfriends when I have a new crush.

He’ll never know anyway, shhhhhhh!!!!

Tamara 😉

 

My Princess Status Cannot Be Repossessed (He Paid for It)

But you are not like that, for you are a chosen people. You are royal priests, a holy nation, God’s very own possession. As a result, you can show others the goodness of God, for He called you out of the darkness into His wonderful light.  ~1 Peter 2:9

Hello Friends,

I’m about to hand some of you one of the most shocking statements that you will probably ever here: “MY PRINCESS STATUS HAS NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO WITH MY BLACKNESS”! That’s right! I most certainly did say it, and I will say it again, because the continent of Africa will soon pass away but God’s Word will far out last it; it will stand for all the eternal ages to come.

So I must repeat my previous statement more emphatically and vehemently: MY PRINCESS STATUS HAS NOTHING WHATSOEVER TO DO WITH MY BLACKNESS! I am a princess because my Heavenly Father is the King, and He sent His Son to pay for my royal inheritance with His death. When I decided to put on my shimmering crimson robes of glory, I was making the conscious decision to accept my royal status, and this status has nothing to do with Earthly matters.

In fact, nothing can happen on this Earth that would threaten to put my royal status in jeopardy, because it has been irrevocably WON! In honor of the last day of Holy Week, before honoring the Savior’s glorious resurrection, I am writing this post to my blog to thank Him for my princess status. And I am not the only one that is reaping the benefits of this princess statues, there are many other royals walking around wearing their invisible crimson robes, that the Savior’s body was ripped in twain to purchase.

Although, we may falter from time to time, and fall; this does not mean that our crimson robes will be revoked, that is unless we make the conscious decision to take them off and lay them down. Of course, this breaks the Savior’s heart because He wants so much for us to take up our crimson robes and wear them proudly. So, that one day we can walk into the royal supper with gladness in our hearts.

And the Kingdom of God shall house so many different tribes, tongues and nations as spoke of in Revelation 1:9-10. Which just goes to show that, racism is definitely not a God problem; it is a man problem. He designed us all as a perfect mosaic of color and cultural differences, so that we would add flare to His Kingdom! God rejoices in variety, and the fact of the matter is we all need something from each other.

We have forgotten that, all of us have had the essence of Almighty God breathed into us, and this gives us life. So, we are not just a colored body, we are also a colorless soul and spirit. While the Earthly body is perishing daily, the inner man is constantly being renewed. When we choose to put on our crimson robes, we are not just choosing to join a specific “religious sect” or a “church denomination”. As a matter of fact, this has nothing to do with organized religion, because there are a lot of “religious” people who are walking around without their crimson robes on at all.

And those shimmering robes are the only invitation that we will receive from God to His Heavenly supper, because this is evidence of His Son being saturated into us; this is the evidence that our souls and spirits have been rescued from the murderous clutches of the Enemy. So, we must take up our crimson robes, because Jesus paid dearly for us to wear them. Every single person upon this Earth, has a robe that has been fitted to their specific measurements and qualifications; this robe gives us purpose and destiny.

No one can put our talents and gifts to use for the Kingdom like we ourselves can. There is room in the Kingdom for everyone; resources will never dry up or be polluted, the Kingdom of Heaven can never be over-populated.

Jesus does not accept only those that are “worthy”! Remember, a humble thief on the cross right beside Jesus, asked for his crimson robes before he died, and Jesus told him that he would be with Him in paradise. He chose to ignore all the wrong that he had done, He realized that Jesus was handing out freedom and he took up that freedom; that thief accepted his crimson robes and became a prince in the Kingdom of God.

Saul was a murderer of Christians, but on the road to Damascus, he accepted his crimson robes!

Mary Magdalene was marked as deplorable in her circle of society, but she took up her crimson robes.

Abraham was a gentile when he heard the call of God to take up his crimson robes, but he took them up anyway.

Mary, mother of Jesus was just an unassuming girl, when she decided to take up her crimson robes.

The disciples were considered uneducated and untouchable in their hometowns, yet Jesus looked at every single one of them and told them to take up their crimson robes and follow Him.

And the list could go on and on!

Tamara Nicole Canty was a girl with self-esteem issues, several learning disabilities, an eating disorder, anger problems, attitude problems, emotional problems, but Jesus looked directly at me and picked me up in a great embrace, whispering all the time: “Daughter, take up your crimson robes, accept your princess status and follow me!”

And I did, and not for a day have I regretted it. I’m not going to tell you that it won’t cost you anything, because this would be a lie; just like it cost Jesus everything, it will cost His royal children everything. Wearing those crimson robes will cost you, your life.

Jesus said: “If you cling to your life, you will lose it; but if you give your life for me, you will find it.” ~Matthew 10:39

So, take up your crimson robes and put your time in for that Crown of Life! Jesus paid for your royal status, and no one on this Earth can repossess it from you!

Happy Holy Saturday,

Tamara ❤

 

 

The Optimistic Savior

I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint: my heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels. ~Psalm 22:14

Hello Friends,

In honor of Holy Week, I will be taking a break from social media to spend time in prayer and communion with God. However, you might see a post from time to time, in which I share some of my thoughts and revelations that I receive during my Holy Week journey. So, here is post 1! While I was in communion with the Lord yesterday, the thought of His crucifixion hit my spirit like a knife. I mean, being a PK (Preacher’s Kid), you around sermons, plays and Easter speeches that deal with Jesus’ crucifixion all the time.

However, for many years the crucifixion was completely sanitized in movies, because if it had been depicted in its unfiltered gruesomeness it would have been unwatchable according to censor standards. Fortunately, Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ, attempted to depict the true brutality of the crucifixion without filter. In fact, I was unable to make it through the entire scene, it just got a little too real for me, because Jesus is real to me and watching a loved one being tortured, humiliated and killed is just too much.

While Mr. Gibson’s portrayal of the crucifixion was more accurate than some films in the past; it still barely scratched the surface of what my Lord endured at the hands of those He loved. NO FILM COULD EVER DEPICT THAT KIND OF SUFFERING!!!!!!!!

6 HOURS! JESUS HUNG ON THE CROSS FOR 6. WHOLE. HOURS! And had to bear the weight of every single sin upon Him. The word pain does not even go deep enough to describe what He endured. But still He looked at every single jeering individual with love radiating from His entire being. Even when His flesh had had enough, and was giving out from the cruelty of His death; He still managed the words, “Forgive them Father for they know not what they do.” We have said this statement as an after thought, and we have heard this statement recited over and over again in passing jest. But do we really know what it meant? Do we really understand the gravity of such love in those words.

“Forgive them Father for they know not what they do!” Was not merely a thoughtless statement, because we know that Jesus chose His words very carefully; this statement was pulled from the depths of his soul. And it proves that even at His darkest hour, even at man’s darkest hour; the Son of God still had hope, faith and love stored up for His people. He possessed an optimistic outlook that, while they were exhibiting their darkest selves that they would one day return to the light. And even if they all did not, He would still rejoice over the ones who did.

My Jesus was an optimist! And this is what I try to endeavor to be, but I am still bound to this flesh and sometimes it is quite easy to become disillusioned with all the foolishness that I see going on all around me. Nevertheless, God rises up in me and reminds me that even in His lowest valley; Jesus still managed to stay completely optimistic. He had been betrayed by the political powers that be, he had been betrayed by His closest friends, and He had been betrayed by so-called “religious” leaders, but still Jesus’ allegiance to Almighty God remained unmoved.

Why? Because Jesus was able to see beyond, He was able to see what the Earth was meant to be; He was able to see the potential of what man could be. Nothing will be perfect, and things will remain broken until God sends His Son back to this Earth to mend what has been broken. Until then, all I have is this love in my heart and the ability to act in it, walk in it, and talk in it. Like my Jesus, I am an optimist and I know that any evil can be defeated with love; it is a tactic that the Enemy never could grasp, and as a result he will be defeated by it every single time. Love can pierce the heart of darkness, soothe a broken soul, heal a wounded spirit and cover a multitude of sins.

The act of love, is optimism personified.

HAPPY HOLY WEEK!

Tamara