Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Not a day that I celebrate, with only twelve years of marriage marring my status as a single adult.
And yet, here I am, a prolific writer of Christian romance. Don't tell me God doesn't have a sense of humor!
I didn't start out writing romance, but somewhere in the course of my second book, my first novel, I discovered I had a knack for romance. Romance insisted on inserting itself into everything I tried to write. Eight Heartsong and four novella contracts, not to mention the two books with Moody, prove that inclination.
Why? How? The answer is as simple as it is complex: In a word--God.
One of the first workshops I attended on writing a love story--presented, if I remember correctly, by Carolyn Scheidies--taught that a love triangle is essential to a Christian romance: hero, heroine--with God at the apex.
Ah. Therein lies my ability to write of love. I have experienced abounding, unstoppable, love. A love that I cannot push away by my worst actions. A love that I did not, could not earn. A love that sought me and wooed me with something far better than chocolates or flowers or diamonds.
God's love. He loved me as a child when I was abused; He stepped in and said "no more!" and ended years of abuse. (My uncle disappeared.)
He loved me as a self-righteous teenager convinced I knew the "right" way Christians should ask.
He loved me when my dreams of a career (in music) and of family (with a divorce) lay shattered in the dust.
He loved me when both children were yanked out of my home and gave me a reason to continue living.
And then He restored so much that was lost and gave me so much more.
God's love. It's real.