Debra Currie

WATCHING THE WINDby Deb Currie Now you may think it odd I’d be watching the wind; no one can do that, no matter the spin.... I’ll prove you wrong if you give me some time; you’ll believe me before I’ve finished this rhyme. As I walked down the road and kept my eyes peeled, I could see the wind moving across all the fields. The grasses they swayed to an unbidden beat; knowing soon they’d be full of soft golden wheat. Buds on the trees gently curled to the sun; waiting for leaves that would soon come undone; Colours of emerald, yellows and reds; awoke from their slumber under layers once dead; The wind blew the hair back surrounding my face; so I wouldn’t miss seeing all of the race. My dog ran ahead and he kept looking back; wondering what kept his mom from following the path. His fur ruffled softly as ears pointed out; while wind washed o’er top him from bobbed tail to snout. I looked in the ditches to seek what was hidden; watching waves ripple and cascade unbidden; It seemed nature was watching the wind as it blew; changing its course to acknowledge it knew; That God had a plan and was playing things out; so that pollen would carry new growth all about. The rippling water and the swaying green leaves; were all part of a plan so that we could believe. That nothing just happened by chance or by fate; God’s perfect timing, wouldn’t come late. As you look at grass swaying and push back your hair; know that the wind is caressing with care. Watching wind isn’t simply like seeing with eyes; it’s nature reacting not from shock or surprise. Every plant, bud and stalk that respond to the breeze; has been laid out with purpose, in varying degrees; How I love the feel of the wind on my face, its caress is quite subtle like it’s keeping the pace. So now can you see the wind as it blows? Bending nature to will, as God alone knows; Raise your face to the sun and enjoy with your mind; the wind will not last, as it slowly unwinds. The next time you’re walking and looking around; take note of the wind as it blows without sound.

SOUNDS -By Deb Currie I am alone as I sit at my desk downstairs and think. There is no human chatter interrupting the silence, but is it really quiet? The dog whimpers in his sleep as he chases imaginary squirrels around the backyard. The keyboard clicks away as words appear on the white screen. Dim light washes over a pale pink quilt and illuminates pockets on the mattress where I’ve slept. A chainsaw at the neighbour’s house cuts away dead brush and makes it ready for the f...ire pit. Trucks lumber down the highway in front of the house, while their tires gently hum on the pavement and the gears begin shifting. A heater oscillates in the laundry room, bringing much-needed warmth to dispel the chill. The sump pump kicks on as the water levels rise from the recently melted snow cover. Two doves coo as they sit on a branch like lovers in the front tree. The fan for the computer tower busily works away as my fingers fly across the keys. Some say that this is the best time of day to pray. We go into our prayer closets to speak to God and to hear what He has to say to us. I listen for that still, small voice but all I hear is noise. There are sounds all around me and I hold my ears to block them. Some don’t hear the music which the room is constantly making. Can you hear me, Lord? I’m finding it hard to focus. There’s way too much noise, and yet, I sit here alone.

My first novel, "A Short Fuse Burning," was a finalist in the Indie Foreword Reviews...Book Of The Year Awards in 2010. It's based on the Book of Revelation. It was published by friesenpress.ca. My second novel, "Escape To Killaloma," is a murder mystery and it won an honourable mention in the Word Alive Press publishing contest in 2018. It was published by wordalivepress.ca. My latest book, "Rifles To Redemption," is an autobiography. It won an honourable mention in the Word Alive Press publishing contest as well. I self-published it using Kindle Create at Amazon.com. It's been submitted for the Indie Book Of The Year, in the US for 2022.

FACES By Deb Currie I miss the faces of the young and the old; ones that are sad and ones that are bold. Cheeks chilled a bright red and eyes all alight; mout...hs turned up smiling is always a sight. Now hidden by face shields, bandanas and masks; we glimpse half a face as we go through our tasks. We check people’s eyes to see who we know; is it a neighbour or grandma or even Joe Blow? You try to show kindness, some love or some hope; but it’s hard when you see people trying to cope. A hand wave or nod seems to fall off the mark; when we’re used to a hug, full of passion and spark. Many tables sit empty with no one around; none to gather or play cards with nary a sound. How I wish to see faces of loved ones and friends, not just laundry and cooking and clothing to mend. Watching children at play or hearing their glee; would make a day brighter for you and for me. Seeing kids at the school playing hide and go seek; would be better than waiting for someone to speak. It’s quiet at home and can get rather boring; with just sounds from the TV or the dog gently snoring. Oh, how I dream of seeing a smile without worrying or stewing that I’ll catch something vile. Seeing faces with laugh lines and wrinkles and moles; nothing fancy or formal, just homegrown deep souls. Oh, I miss seeing faces up close and for real; not just glances cast down trying hard not to feel. A soft feathered touch that’s just seeking a face; to brush gently with love and given in grace. We’re missing so much as we stay far apart; not just the absence of smiles or embraces or heart. I can’t wait for the day when we hug once again; smiling brightly at friends and singing refrains. I will bury my mask in the garden outside; there will be no excuses to cower and hide. My teeth will be seen as my face shows a smile; my lips will turn up like not seen for a while. I’ll greet all my family and hug them quite close; when this virus splits town, on that day we’ll all toast!

This is great...

GOODBYE 2020WELCOME 2021 I look out the window at the dawn of the day; we’ve entered a new year, come what may. Waiting for sunshine to burst through the clouds; to dispel all the grayness, would be allowed. The past year broke many in spirit and soul; this disease we called Covid, sure took its toll. It blatantly struck at the old and the young; churches were closed and no songs were sung. Shops closed their doors, and businesses were lost; people stayed home while they c...ounted the cost. Children were home-schooled & families grew close; mom and dad worked at home as the pace really slowed. Great attention was paid to our cats and our dogs; we walked through the forests, looking for frogs. Sheer pleasure was taken in the simplest of things; like baking and reading for the joy that it brings. Social-distancing; sanitizing, and staying in our bubble; were the catchphrases used to describe all our trouble. Daily counts on the news made for sleepless nights; as streets were deserted with no one in sight. Wearing masks every day while we walked to and fro; hiding faces from sight, so nobody would know. That underneath that old cloth was a smile rarely seen, so we all looked the same but for eyes that would gleam. For disease couldn’t take the joy from our hearts, or strike down our will or make love depart. Compassion remained whole, as we helped one another; everybody became our sisters and brothers. We shared what we could from the bounty we had, with others less fortunate and that made us glad. Shopping for shut-ins and taking them food; let us know what it meant to lighten the mood. Zoom made it easy to work and to meet; you could still wear your jammies and not take the heat. Nobody cared if your hair was a mess and you cut it with scissorswho would have guessed? We watched weddings and special occasions at home; plugged into computers with Google Chrome. Enjoying old movies and laughing out loud, was much more fun than being crushed in a crowd. When Covid is over and we’ve smashed the bug, I can’t wait to gather and have a group hug. I’ve missed that sweet bonding, and love shared with friends; having dinners together, and peace without end. May this new year bring hope and a season of pleasure; Seeing light in the darkness and love without measure. And may God bless your family and bring you good cheer; with no worries ahead and nothing to fear. Deb Currie Jan. 1, 2021 See more

This was my first attempt at posting something on youtube.

This brings some much needed levity to a sad time in our history...

This is so worshipful, but I dare you to close your eyes...

I thought this was a beautiful pic of the rocks in the Keyhole caves at the Nottawasaga Bluffs. It looked like a painting...

My favourite intestine tree...

Pond behind the dog park today...

The sky tonight...

Saw this little baby & thought he was out of the nest too soon. Then I noticed the nest on the downspout had fallen off and there was another baby flapping on the ground and another by the deck. Steve put the nest back and we gathered up the 2 hurt babies and put them back. This one was hopping around with the mother and not long after, mom found her other 2 babies and was feeding them. I pray they'll be okay.

I'm glad to finally be back hiking on the trails...What a treat! Check out my website www.ashortfuseburning1.com. I've started adding some of my favourite recipes.

PUSSY WILLOW I walk along a heavily eroded ditch with water running high from spring runoff. It has carved its way down the mountain, taking with it detritus in varying degrees and depositing it with wild abandon. There are no special smells hinting of wet earth and decomposing leaves. Bright sun and cool winds ensure that my jacket is still zipped up. Spring is slowly making its way here, but there is still a chance that snow will fly. Wishing for nicer weather doesn’t ensur...e it will arrive any quicker. So what will I see as I walk along the dirt road today keeping my eyes open for something new or for something old to be made new in my mind? I am receptive. I hear the familiar call of a chickadee and look into the trees and bushes to see if I can spot the bird. There, in the gnarled branches of a pussy willow, the chickadee has built her nest precariously within the cleft of some thin caramel-coloured branches. She is content with her choice of home but is not pleased that I’ve come to disturb her as she sits in the nest and trills a song only she and others of her kind know. She flies a short distance away and carefully watches to see what I’ll do next. I pull out a camera and take a picture of the pussy willow tree as it grows amidst the fast-flowing water at haphazard angles. Soft, velveteen buds of pale gray and white escape their hard shells and search for the sun. I imagine how many branches over the years have been snapped off by chubby wee hands and taken inside to adorn kitchen tables. Much like the dandelion, a child loves to present a bouquet of these to their mothers. They will rub their cheeks with the soft buds and wait proudly while mom puts them in a pretty vase with water. It’s odd how such beauty will grow in places that are ugly, like ditches and along roadsides. These sentinels stand at attention and capture our interest. They highlight an otherwise stark landscape and remind us of hope. Much like my heart, the pussy willow awaits a rebirth and then without warning, it will break free from its hard shell and be made into something soft and brand new. Thank the Lord for such blessings!

Frasier enjoying a hike on the bluffs...

Spring is in the air...

I now have an author's page with Amazon.com. This is a new branch in which to market my books. You can check it out at amazon.com/author/debracurrie Follow Debra Currie and explore their bibliography from Amazon.com's Debra Currie Author Page.

My latest doodle...I love the colours on this one!

Rain, sleet and snow can make for treacherous beauty...

This does much to validate my life...

A NEW YEAR'S POEM- BY DEB CURRIE The clock quickly ticks off the hours of the day, As this year says goodbye to days gone, We start out fresh on white snow where it lays, With no checks keeping tabs of our wrongs. ... Take my hand Lord, and guide me ahead, When I falter, don’t let my hand go, Keep a light to my path, and keep me well fed, On your word, I’ll move forwardI’ll go! I’ll share the good news with both stranger and friend, As I boldly walk forward in faith, I’ll show how you made my broken heart mend, It’s to you whom I’ll worship and wait. You said you’d come back to take us with you, When you start up your kingdom on high, You’re creating inside me a heart that is new, I am yours and I’ll never ask why? The New Year rings in, I look forward with hope You’re my Saviour, my friend and my Lord, Your love is redeeming and beyond all scope, I’m immersed in your Almighty Word. So I offer my heart to the One I belong, As he moulds me and makes me brand new; I will worship and praise you in words and in song, Never fear, you can have Jesus too! See more

You may wonder why I wanted to tackle a novel based on the Book of Revelation in the bible. Let's get real. It's a very hard book to understand and there have been hundreds of commentaries that put their spin on what the signs and wonders "really mean." God is the only One who knows exactly how things are going to play out. We can only guess or try mathematically to make things fit into a nice, neat box. It took exactly three months to write this novel. I started by wr...iting on paper, as we didn't have a computer back then. It was only two weeks later that a friend just happened to stop by and drop of a used computer. I wondered how I would start to write the book. I prayed and then wrote the first line. The rest of the book wrote itself. Two months after I wrote it, the "Left Behind" series began, so I didn't copy a thing from them. I tried to get it published by mailing (at that time), three chapters; a cover letter and a synopsis to the publishers that were in my Christian library. Then I branched out to other publishing houses. Out of 85 packages that I mailed (lots of money in postage) in Canada and the U.S., I received about 18 replies back saying they get too many books and that most things sent like mine, ended up never read and were used to line their garbage pails. I was so discouraged, that this book along with "Escape To Killaloma," sat on a shelf collecting dust for sixteen years. Then I self-published through Friesenpress.ca and got my hands on my first book. I was so happy that I cried. I submitted the novel in the indie writing contest by Foreword in the U.S. It was a finalist in the Book Of The Year Awards, out of over 1400 entries. Next time, I submitted "Escape To Killaloma," in the Word Alive Press publishing contest and it got into the top 24 books. My third book is an autobiography called "Rifles To Redemption." I submitted it to the Word Alive Press publishing contest as well and it got an honourable mention. I still have only sold about 120 books altogether, to friends and family members. It's very discouraging in that respect, but I continue to put the books out there. I started my own website ashortfuseburning1.com. Then I started a Facebook author page. I've now taken a stab at Instagram. I just can't give up, although it would be so easy just to throw away the boxes that are collecting dust in my basement. I began with such high hopes of being an author that would bring the message of hope Jesus offers, to people everywhere. I don't believe I just wrote them to give myself some self-satisfaction. There's got to be another answer, and until I find that out, I will continue to put my heart to words and see where it ends up. See more

Still playing...

A CHRISTMAS POEM BY DEB CURRIE A long time ago, in a place far away, a babe was born in a manger. He was born to die on that memorable day; separation from God was the danger. Our transgressions had caused a spiritual rift, between God and His people on earth. Death was guaranteed, until God’s special gift, was sent in the way of a birth. I am the way, the truth and the life, said Christ as He guided us on. I have come to destroy both anger and strife, and to show you a br...Continue reading

I've heard people talk about writer's block lately. Thankfully, I've never had that problem. When I begin to write a book, it seems to write itself. Sometimes, the computer is the tool I'm using but someone else is doing the writing. Of course, I'm thinking about God. I never read my books until they go to the publishers. When it came to the time that I had to edit, I would think to myself: "This is what I want the next paragraph to say now." When I read what I have wr...itten, it was still the same words. I'm not talking about writing something and then getting it published the following year. The two books that I presently have published went sixteen years between the time I wrote it and the time it got published. You would think my thoughts would have matured or that I would have some earth-shattering new revelations to reveal...but NO! One chapter that I wrote about heaven in "A Short Fuse Burning," I read for the first time in full and cried. I thought to myself: "I didn't write this! There's no way I could have thought up something like this." So, I don't know what writer's block really is. My stories write themselves. I just do the delivery and pray that someone will be touched by the message. See more

I ask myself why I write. Is it for fame and fortune? Obviously not. Is it for the praise of others? It cannot be. Is it for self-gratification? Maybe a little. Is it for the word count? Not at all. When I write, I leave a piece of myself on the pages...a small part of my heart and soul. Through my writing I can get rid of negativity in my mind. My characters can help to take that away. I love to tell stories--of my childhood--of trauma I have gone through--of los...s--of joy--of hope and salvation. I love to share with the readers personal things that have happened to me, only I let my characters go through it instead. It is healing and very cathartic. By looking at the situation through another's eyes, it brings clarity to the forefront. I no longer feel defeated, bruised and broken. I know there's a light at the end of the tunnel. I find it easier to work through the baggage of the past and simply walk away. I am no longer that person. I've been cleaned up and made new by God. I have a new outlook and perspective. That's why I write! See more

This is just a rough pencil sketch of what I want my autobiography "Rifles To Redemption" to look like. Word Alive Press Publishing Contest- 2019 Non-Fiction Honourable Mentions: Rifles to Redemption by Debra Currie The Greatest of These by Lori Morrison... Better as a Woman by Helena Mulligan Jeremiah by Tom Birch The Effects of Unresolved Trauma by Gloria Kelsey So I guess it got in the top 10-14 books in the non-fiction category. See more

My first novel, "A Short Fuse Burning," is based on the Book of Revelations in the bible. I take 2 families through the end times, to the great throne judgment. This is strictly my take on how things could happen in the near future. You may not agree and that's okay. You just need to ask yourself one question. If you were to die today, do you know without a doubt, where you would spend eternity?

The bottom half of the cover "Escape To Killaloma," was an actual photo I took inside the Bonnechere Caves in Eganville, Ontario. I got the cover designer from Word Alive Press to incorporate the picture of a girl praying.

Autumn beauty...