By The Book

Welcome to the Blog Tour for Lavender Tears by Sondra Cunningham, hosted by JustRead Publicity Tours!

ABOUT THE BOOK

Title: Lavender Tears
Author: Sondra Cunningham
Release Date: March 12, 2021
Genre: Christian Historical Biblical Women’s Fiction

The strength to rise again and again is not for the faint of heart.

Like each new sunrise, Mary of Bethany’s journey required an inner strength and faith that would permeate through the darkness of life’s unexpected tragedies.

When her hopes and dreams came crashing down around her, Mary’s life began to spin, seemingly, out of control. What she couldn’t see, was that God, the faithful potter, was shaping her life into a valuable vessel. One mended and filled with the pure gold of the Father’s love and destined for a unique purpose.

Held together by the sweet and calming scent of lavender and the memories of her mother’s garden, Mary journeys on, learning how to defeat the night and radiate like the noon day sun.

PURCHASE LINKS*: Goodreads | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Book Depository | IndieBound | BookBub

EXCERPT

Chapter Twenty

“A sincere faith.”

1 Timothy 1:5, TPT

When I placed my palms on the fine sand, I could feel the remaining warmth from the fired piece buried beneath. After several hours of cooling, the time had come to dig it out for inspection. After I put on my gloves, I pushed the sand to the side, going deeper and deeper while paying attention to the level of heat. I could tell my jug had cooled completely since the sand closest to the piece was no longer hot. Slowly, I revealed the handles then lifted it up out of the sand.

It was beautiful, everything I had anticipated and more. The color was a deep tan, and the carved roses remained as defined and smooth as I had hoped. With a little polishing, painting, and glazing, it would truly be something to behold. I stood carefully, sweeping the side of my foot over the piled sand to level the surface. After dusting off myself and the piece, I went inside to inspect it further.

I took my jug over to the large water barrel inside the shop and slowly dipped it in. Lifting it in and out of the water, filling it up and pouring it out, I rinsed it thoroughly. Once all the sand was cleaned off, I performed the most important test.

Can it hold water?

Dipping the jug in deeply, I slowly pushed it farther down into the water. I watched with great anticipation as I lifted it out. Drip after drip of water rolled off the sides of the piece. I brought it over to the table and placed it on a few folded rags while I dried the outside of the jug, eager to celebrate.

A few minutes passed, and I couldn’t see any obvious cracks or leaks. I was turning the rags to check for moisture when I saw it. Along the bottom decorative rim of the jug was a hairline crack running around the edge of the piece. The rags had moistened just underneath, where the water was discreetly seeping out.

I sat back in my chair, completely numb from the revelation of failure. I didn’t know what to feel and wondered if I should dump it out and smash it outside with the other ruined pots. It was so beautiful, so visually flawless. All my pain, all my brokenness had sculpted this beautiful vessel. And for what? Only to symbolically expose my own cracks and brokenness hidden beneath a beautiful face. I picked up the jug and poured the water back into the barrel, dried it thoroughly, and set it back on the table. Pacing back and forth, contemplating what to do with it, I could feel the past flooding in like a mighty wave. 

The voices in my head rang louder and louder as despair opened the door: “Nothing you will ever do will be good enough. You are worthless, like this broken vessel. Give in. Give up. You’re only good for pleasure. You are flawed. Cover it up.”

Cover it up? That’s it! I’ll fill it with wax, polish it, and paint it! No one will ever know the difference!

I took the piece off the table and quickly went to work on polishing. Once everything was smooth, I carefully laid the jug on its good side then dripped hot wax into the crack. After several coats, I set the jug on its bottom and repeated a similar process to the inside of the crack. When I was satisfied that the wax had dried in place, I filled the jug with water once again and waited to see if it had worked. Success! I saw no seepage whatsoever. I cleaned up the surface of the jug once more and set it on the shelf for painting.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tags: Biblical fiction, Sondra Cunningham, women's fiction