I'M AN AMAZON AUTHOR!!!

I've published several books, in a variety of genres, on Amazon.
Search under the name, "Marcia Gunnett Woodard".

Saturday, September 29, 2007

The Language of Love

Are you still wondering what Language Department's purpose was in making you take a foreign language? Well, if you took high school Spanish—here's a short video on how to win the heart of your true love, even with your limited vocabulary!

Useful Spanish

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Somewhere Under the Rainbow

On New Year's Eve last year, just two days before the wreck that took my dad, God gave me a double rainbow. It was there a long time—I'd say at least half an hour. Coming on New Year's Eve like it did, it seemed significant...like a promise for the new year. So I took pictures.

Then, just the other day, on Dad's birthday, God gave me another double rainbow! Once again, it stayed for more than half an hour. And coming as it did on Dad's birthday, after losing him so suddenly, it seemed significant again. So once again, I took pictures.

And yesterday, I suddenly remembered a conversation that I had with Dad as a teen, when spring was late in arriving, and I suggested maybe we wouldn't have a spring that year. Dad had pointed out that we can always count on the seasons because that's part of the promise of the rainbow! (Genesis 8:22, 9:8-9, 11-13) Seeing the rainbow on his birthday was just a neat little reminder from both of my dads that life will go on!

Genesis 8
22 "As long as the earth endures,
       seedtime and harvest,
       cold and heat,
       summer and winter,
       day and night
       will never cease."

Genesis 9
8 Then God said to Noah and to his sons with him: 9 "I now establish my covenant with you and with your descendants after you.
12 And God said, "This is the sign of the covenant I am making between me and you and every living creature with you, a covenant for all generations to come: 13 I have set my rainbow in the clouds, and it will be the sign of the covenant....”


After the storm of sorrow, after the flood of tears, after the days of lonely isolation when the Land of Hope is nowhere in sight—after it all—comes the rainbow. Quietly, gently, catching us by surprise—it soars above the horizon. The rainbow—God's promise that the seasons will arrive again this year. His promise that life will go on.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Chatty Baby

I had the coolest thing happen last night!

For the past month or so, I've been telling my family that my 10 month old granddaughter is starting to talk. They all humored me as a biased grandma. Yesterday when I was watching her, she kept pointing at the phone and saying "call", so we called my husband. When her dad got home, I told him about it. He listened, and that was that. End of story. Or so we thought....

Last night, I was doing stuff around the house when the phone rang. It was my son, calling for my granddaughter! It seems her parents were talking about the story I'd told him. When her dad said the word "call", she started saying "Call! Call!" and pointing at the phone! They got her out of her highchair and she crawled straight to the phone, still saying, "Call! Call!" He asked her if she wanted to call Grandma, and she said, "Call...Gumma!"

So they called me and put her on the phone. I said, "Hi! It's Grandma!" She said, "Gumma?" I said "Hi!" She said "Hi!" I said "I love you" and she laughed. After a couple minutes of that, my son got on the phone and said, "What did you say to her? We knew what she was saying!"

So today, I'm one proud and happy (and vindicated) grandma! *contented sigh*

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

The Boy and the Truck

I was in a conversation recently about dealing with hard things. One of the participants commented that, for him, it was hard to see/feel the difference between giving up on a hurtful circumstance or giving it over to God. This is what I came up with in response:

The little boy is sooo tired. His little legs have walked so far. And to make matters worse, his truck—his favorite truck—is broken! He can't push it or pull it, it won't go on its own, so he has to carry it. He's carried it all this way, and he's still not home. The truck is sooo heavy. At times, it seems bigger than he is, and he knows that it's the big reason why he's so tired.

Beside the little boy walks the Father. He sees his son is tired, he knows why, and he truly cares. Does he take the truck from the little boy? No. That is a choice the little boy must freely make.

Now the little boy has stopped. He sets the truck down in the dirt, sighs, wipes a tear, and begins to walk away. He can't carry it anymore. The Father waits and watches. The boy walks a few steps and stops, turning back. He can't give up on his precious truck! Torn, he looks back and forth, from his Father to the truck to his Father.

"Daddy, what do I do?" he wails. "My truck is broken and I'm so tired! I can't carry it!"

The Father reaches out his hand.

"Give it to me, son. Let me carry it."

The little boy stands, frozen, indecisive. What should he do? Give up on the truck and leave it in the dirt? Or give it over to his Father and let him carry it? Either way, the little boy won't have his truck anymore. Give it up, or give it over? He stands there, thinking. Which should he choose? Will it really make any difference....?