I am starting again

I am starting writing again. I haven't written for my story in nearly a month. My story is in a mess (more or less) and will need heavy re-writing. I don't know how to end it. And I may have to change my characters. -If you know anything about writing that is really hard. Honestly I don't really want to write another word but I want to continue discovering their story+ I'm pretty much at my "heroine's" lowest point I love her to much to leave her there in short. Prayer for inspiration p.l.e.a.s.e -also for how to weave God into this.
So after asking for so much I guess I must give you some idea of what you are praying for. Warning it (hopefully) will contain romance.

(don't have a title yet), a Summary:

Beatrice is from East-End London 1885. One night she is attacked, in a battle of self defense an important person is accidently killed, Beatrice flees to New Zealand, she is pursued by the dead man's hired killer, Martin.

Her life gets no better when tragedy after tragedy hits Beatrice begins to break down, suicide becoming her only hope. But it all seems as if something stronger is pulling, pulling her to Jesus.
But behind all of this her killer is still seeking, ready to work his revenge. 

Excerpt from (don't have a title yet):

Last updated on 11/27/2012

He began to undo her top buttons, clearing her neck. She knew then that he would kill her... Her fears were confirmed when he wrapped his fingers around her wind pipe, at first gently pushing as though to test her vulnerability, then he dug in his fingers, and she had the odd sensation that he'd done this before... And was certainly not afraid to do it again.

(haha that's pretty much the best scene -thought that is going to change)

Anyway thanks very much

-Tiffany

Part Four

and a belated four

The Battle Surrendered

Part Four

Storyteller SilverLoom

     He shouldered the coiled rope and strode into the forest.

     I scurried after Him, calling, “Wait! Where are we going?”

     “Follow me.”

     I halted. “Did You just quote Yourself?”

     Thankfully, He understood my sense of humor and laughed. “Yes, I tend to do that. It makes it easier for people to see things the way I do.”

     “And that’s supposed to mean…?” I asked as I again hurried to keep up with Him.

     “That I never change. I am the same at this moment as I was two-thousand years ago, and as I was at the creation of the universe. Today, tomorrow, and yesterday, I remain the same. And so I can quote Myself in everything.”

     We continued walking. And walking. And… walking. The forest floor was uncommonly free of debris, and a soft carpet of moss covered the earth, much to the glee of my bare feet. But after several hours of walking, and walking, and… walking, I finally said, “Ok, don’t get me wrong. I want to follow You wherever You go. But can You give me some clue as to where we’re headed? Please?”

     “We are going home,” Jesus replied.

     I gasped audibly, feeling both excitement and fear. He took one look at my face and cracked up. “No, dear heart! I mean your house. It’s not your time yet.”

     “Oh,” I said. Then I saw the funny side of it and laughed along with Him. After a few minutes, it finally occurred to me what He had said. “Hey! Why are You taking me back home? You said You were going to train me!” I cried.

     “No worries,” He replied. “We won’t arrive until you’re trained.”

     It took me a while to try to sort that out. “So… You’ll be training me on the way?”

     “Yes. We won’t get there until you’re trained.”

     “Oh, ok. Gotcha.” Little did I suspect that I had no clue what He meant.

     We walked some more. And walked. And… well, you know. But it wasn’t as boring as it sounded. The forest was beautiful and peaceful, and I was walking beside the Prince of Peace.

     Presently, Jesus remarked, “We’ll stop here and make camp. We’ll continue your training in the morning.”

     I can’t deny that I gave Him a funny glance. Continue? I wasn’t aware that we had started. I hadn’t even touched a sword or a bow yet!

     He stripped the lower branches off some nearby trees and soon had a small fire going. We ate bread and drank water that came from the pack He carried on His back.

     We slept on the soft moss under some light blankets from Jesus’s pack. The weather was perfect. I didn’t feel cold until early in the morning.

     Shivering, I pulled the blanket more tightly around me. My eyelids fluttered for just a second, but what I saw in that moment made me sit up and scream.

     The shadow creatures were back.

Well how 'bout that?

non-writer gone play-wright?!!!

Can it get any worse?
Not only am I writing stories I am being asked to make up plays!!!
I've already done one, for Sunday School, my actors were myself [teehee] Samara, my sis, Noah and Julia, my young friends.It was a spiritual war combat, type thing. S' was the Christian then Noah and Julia ran in covered in black [faces veiled] -"evil ones" there was a mock punch up, [my actors were already specially trained, hint hint, Noah W..... is the best real looking puncher I know]
Then I came in as the "big" evil one and the fight increased and we try drag S' away from her bible but she ends up praying and we fall over [summary]
One guy from church goes by the name of Cyrus though it was really powerful, and I'm like, ok, wow!
-I was just rewriting a bad play we had to do for sunday school.

And now I've been asked to make one up to do in front of the whole church and have 2 Adult supporters who will do all the organizing of costumes practises etc but otherwise I'm in charge, and I feel like a play-wright, now the next thing to do is write.
So my prayer request is that God would give me the inspiration, something that will touch someone, if only one for ever and for good, I'd really love it if you had time to do so.

Any way
A more than slightly nervous Tiffany