A Pictoral Essay of Mount Hermon

On a wonderful walk with my dear friend Caroline.
God blessed me with my favorite flower: Lilacs. The last time I’d seen them, I lived in France. After one session at Mount Hermon, I couldn’t keep the grief in check any longer and had to leave the auditorium to weep. A huge thank you to Leslie and Karen and the lady whose name I can’t remember from Oregon who held me, prayed for me and listened to me. God is untangling the grief, and this stint at Mount Hermon was a part of that untangling.

The Master’s Artist contingent at Mount Hermon. We’re holding up chocolate.


Leslie, Jeanne and me at the top of Mount Hermon. We hiked, got lost, hiked, and got lost some more, eventually reaching the summit with a huge wooden cross atop it. Lovely.

Me and cute agent Beth.

Dear, dear Simon and Melanie who came all the way from Ireland to attend Mount Hermon. We met at the Riviera Writers Group in Nice!

Leslie and I “fresh” on day one.

Harvest House authors at Mount Hermon.

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