I wanted to honor these men and shine the light on the men and women involved in resistance groups across Europe as well as explore the conundrum believers faced in fighting evil. They broke laws and killed in their pursuit of justice. Did the ends justify the means? How did their actions impact their faith? How did they return to “normal” after the war ended? 

John and I went to Turkey expecting to be moved by grand things. We dreamed of basking in what remained of ancient libraries, hearing our voices echoing in the massive theaters, and walking through the ruins of some of the greatest wonders of the world. Instead, a public toilet, along with a bit of Scripture I'd read a hundred times before, undid me. 

Biblical fiction, then, is a subset of Christian historical fiction. It is set in the times and places mentioned in the Bible, and often includes biblical characters and events. A story might be set in the New Testament era, or the time of the Patriarchs, which still leaves a vast number of story possibilities.

We all see what rejecting God looks like in our world. We live with the consequences every day. But what would it mean for people to walk away from the light – to reject it – if it was such a visible presence? That’s a question I seek to answer in the Stronghold of Enjanan series, where people can literally choose to live in the light or the darkness; where some reject the Creator even when His light is the source of life and health and flourishing. 

Because that’s what we do as humans, isn’t it? Just as Hebrews said, the promised rest is available for us, but we rejected it. The good gifts that God offers us daily are gifts we so often shun in favour of what the world offers, creating darkness, rivalry and strife. Why do we do it? Because we want control of our own destiny. Because surrender is so hard. Even when we know it’s for our good. 

The story's themes of redemption, forgiveness, and grace underscore the main takeaway: honoring God through loving others. I yearn for readers to grasp this central truth, to feel the depth in the main character’s plight. The narrative delves into the heart of devotion, exploring how easily the concept of honoring God can become contorted in the labyrinth of the mind. After completing the first draft, the realization that this story, with its raw vulnerability, could only be told in the intimate voice of the first person hit me. 

Letters from Texas is historical fiction set during World War II, but this particular story was inspired by my family. There were real people behind the story. Real separation. Real uncertainty. Real letters written across the miles. Throughout the story and across many character arcs the importance of encouragement to and from one another is key.

Biblical fiction is engaging not just because it brings biblical characters and events to life, but because it gives us permission to imagine what might have happened between the lines.

The scriptural text is the bones and the boundary of the story. The history and research are the muscles that hold the story world up to standards. The imagination is what gives the story movement and life.

My goal in writing “Across the Lake” was to show Jesus’s power and compassion to a hurting world. Even all these years later, people still suffer, need healing, but most of all, people need a Savior. Come jump in the boat with Jesus and discover the miracles and ministry that took place in and around Capernaum. Let’s go viral with Jesus.

My heart desires to let everyone know how loved they are, how much He cares, and why grace is there for them. No matter how far someone has fallen or how difficult life has been or how many mistakes they have made, He is there for them.

The Bible characters show us again and again that He is invested in us, and Biblical fiction allows me to bring those people to life so we can find ourselves within the stories and experience the healing, forgiveness, and love they found in Jesus.

I am careful about that distinction when I write biblical fiction. Scripture provides the bones. My imagination supplies flesh only where Scripture is silent. I don't want fiction to replace the biblical story. I want it to slow us down long enough to notice the humanity already there because those people were remarkably human.

I was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia in January 2002. By 2013, I was able to write out my testimony and share what God had done for me. The voices and paranoia that had once controlled so much of my life were gone.

From 2013 through 2017, the number of posts on my blog skyrocketed. I remember telling people online that if I had been a pastor, those writings would have been my sermons. My blog became the place where I shared my testimony, my faith, and the lessons God was teaching me throughout my recovery.

It was 1826. The first school for the blind in the United States wouldn’t open until 1829. The now familiar reading system of dots, known as Braille, had been invented by a 15-year-old blind French lad 2 years previously, but it was just one of a hodgepodge of reading systems occupying the blindness education landscape at that time. In short, the prospects of Frances receiving an education were about as bright as those of people walking on the moon.

Imagine my excitement, then, when I learned about the Missoula Flood, a disaster did take place in my backyard. A catastrophe so huge that it could have been seen from space, and so powerful that it shaped every inch of the land I sleep, eat, walk and shop on.