quirming and giggling, a half dozen children eagerly await the play's beginning.
They sit in makeshift theater seating: lawn chairs, boxes, picnic benches. A few choose to sit on the concrete. Around the "stage" are rakes, tools, shovels, and a lawnmower. They are not props. They've been shoved aside to make room for the performance. All the world may have been a stage for Shakespeare, but for these neighborhood children, the closest available garage suffices.
Today's presentation:

"The Mystery of the Fork Murders"

A scream. Actor #1 falls to the garage floor. Actor #2 and Actor #3 gasp in horror. Much to the chagrin of Actor #1's mother, watered-down ketchup has been liberally doused on the "victim's" shirt. A fork, creatively stuck through the actor's shirt and into a chunk of wood ingeniously taped and tied to the victim, leans precariously. (That stubborn dinner fork refused to properly stand upright.) Its mute testimony declares another victim has fallen prey to the unseen, cold-blooded Fork Murderer.

"Awww. That's only ketchup!"

"What's that lump under the fork?"

"Look! The dead guy's laughin'!"

Taunts from the audience are ignored. (Except by Actor One who is grinning from ear to ear with his eyes squeezed shut.) Guffaws aside and less than stellar acting notwithstanding, Act One is underway!

That gives you a snapshot of one of my earliest attempts at creative writing. Fortunately for the mom who had to do the washing—and the rest of the world in general—it was one of my last attempts at mysteries.

Growing up in a stable, loving home in Toledo, Ohio, some of my earliest writings consisted of a variety of plays acted out in neighborhood garages. My imaginative, but unappreciated, garage dramas eventually gave way to short stories.

In high school I began writing syrupy, predictable chick lit. It was fun and my friends loved them. Those girlfriends were my earliest encouragers to keep writing. (I still have those penciled, yellowed, woebegone romances!)

Although we attended church as a family, during junior high I was the first member of my immediate family to become a born again Christian. All this time I continued writing: diaries, letters, stories, poems, personality notebooks. (For those of you who don't know what personality notebooks were, trust me. You don't want to know.) Before finishing college, I began working at The Toledo Hospital, where I continue to work today. (So far it pays better than writing.) As a respiratory therapist, I specialize in the care of sick newborns.

My earliest published work appeared in numerous medical and science journals including Pediatric Research, Journal of Perinatology, AARTimes, Respiratory Care, and Perinatology/Neonatology. My more recent medical papers have been published in Advance for Respiratory Care Practitioners. I've had humorous articles published in Ultralight Flying! magazine. I've also been published in Clarity women's magazine and at dramaministry.com. (None of this sounds like quite as much fun as splattered ketchup and fork murders, does it?)

In 1998 my dream of a lifetime came true: Barbour Publishing published my first book. As of this writing, my résumé consists of six published books. Through them I want to demonstrate how wonderfully applicable the Bible is to every aspect of life. Only in the Bible do we find what is real, lasting, genuine, and true.

I enjoy a modest speaking ministry, speaking for medical conferences, women's meetings, and writers' groups. In my spare time I enjoy in line skating, downhill skiing, and board and card games. At Westgate Chapel, our church in Toledo, Ohio, I'm a women's Bible study leader. My husband, Mark—who is the funnest and funniest man I know—and I make our home in northwest Ohio.

One of my favorite authors, the late Francis A. Schaeffer, said that as Christians we always want to point others to biblical Christianity. Not just because it works. God established the Bible and biblical principles, therefore those principles must work. No, we don't point others to biblical Christianity for utilitarian reasons, but because biblical Christianity is true. This is my desire: that my writing entices people to read the source of truth, the Bible.

The apostle John said he wrote his gospel so that "you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name" (John 20:31).

If my books encourage people to dig into the Word of God more deeply...well, that's better than ketchup-covered kids staging a play in a garage any day!