Welcome

Cindy K. Sproles is an author and a speaker, whose dream is to do nothing more than craft words that speak from the heart. God's plan seems to be for her to write and teach the craft. With God’s guidance, Cindy is expanding her horizons. We'll see how He uses her.

Cindy is a mountain gal. Proud of her heritage, she was born and raised in the Appalachian Mountains where life is simple, words have a deep southern drawl, and colloquialisms like, "well slap my knee and call me corn pone" seem to take precedence over proper speech. Apple Butter, coal mining, the river, pink sunrises, and golden sunsets help you settle into a porch swing and relax. Family, the love of God, and strong morals are embedded into her life in the mountains. Teaching writers, spinning fiction tales about life in the mountains, history, and down-home ideas find their way into all she does. “I love to write devotions, to seek after the deeper side of Christ, and to share the lessons He teaches me from life in the hills of East Tennessee. I am a writer. A speaker. A lover of God's Word and friend to all.” This is Cindy Sproles. Welcome home to the mountains.

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Recent Posts

Where to Draw the Line?

4/27/2023 1:35:00 PM BY Cindy Sproles

Where do I draw the line?

That’s the question that eats away at my heart. Every single day, it eats at me. Let me back up. If you come to this website and my blog looking for affirmation, then you’re in the wrong place. I am not the affirmer. Like you, my walk is just that…a rugged road that I have committed to learn from, and it’s not always easy.

What you will find here is writing information. That’s kind of a given since I’m a writer. As I learn in my writing, I share posts on what I’ve learned in this industry. You’ll find humor because, if you know me at all, you know laughter is a big part of my life. I learned a long time ago to search for the humor in the hardship and it can be – well, just plain funny. And finally, you will find my walk with my Father in heaven. I have to learn it (this relationship with God), and sometimes, the hard way. Still, my walk is no rougher than the next guy’s. I just choose to be transparent rather than hide behind the façade of fake or easy. Now, having said that…let’s go back to my question. Where is the line?

Why do I ask that question? Mostly because of what weighs heavily on my heart at this moment. The news is riddled with debates on allowing children to decide their sexuality. My prayer today was this:

“Lord, I pray today for an open mind and open heart. Sometimes I struggle with opinions that are my own versus what is in Your Word. The world pushes so hard to guilt me into believing what You oppose is wrong. I think of those little children who don’t fully understand right from wrong, much less their sexuality, and how the world presses us to let a small child make a decision about it. It must break your heart. After all, we wouldn’t let those same children roller skate in the middle of a busy highway. The circumstance is different but the underlying is the same.”

I could rush out my door and start to scream, “What is wrong with you, people? A ten-year-old child hasn’t learned to make good decisions yet. They’ve not come into a full understanding of consequences or how to manage money, shop, or work. How could you let a child make a decision that affects the rest of their lives when you wouldn’t let them make a decision about your life if you were on your deathbed? I can see it now.

“Oh, little Suzie, your momma is on life support. She probably won’t live. Do you want us to pull the plug? Do you want us to end your Momma’s suffering? Let her die?”

Seriously! I doubt you would want your dangling life left in the hands of a ten-year-old who might have been mad at you the morning before.

Do you see my question now? Where do we draw the line because we are on a slippery downhill slide that we can’t stop until we hit the bottom and land in nothing but consequences?

What adults are doing is forcing irrational adult sin into the hands of our children. Oh, God, hear our prayers for a confused and fallen world. We’re picking and choosing the decisions we want a child to make based on public opinion instead of common sense and morals.

The hard part comes when I do have to draw the line in the sand. So let me be clear. I have a lot of friends who walk a different path than I do when it comes to homosexuality, transgender, and all the other names they seek. It doesn’t mean I don’t love them. Many are dear, dear friends. I do love them, and that is what God calls me to do. Love them, cherish them. I will admit there are times I fear losing a friend when I do draw the line.

I had a friend who passed not so long ago and wanted her friends to use the pronoun “him.” I hugged my friend and told her I loved her, but she would just have to love me in return and give me grace. I could not step over that line God had drawn in the sand. I guess she loved me as a friend enough to continue our friendship because this person still chose to allow me inside her world.

The point is, I didn’t give in to the world. I wish I could say I have been as brazen about other things that God has specifically cautioned against – but like I said, I’m learning this relationship, and I’m not sure the learning or the world’s temptations will ever cease. There will always be issues.

In Luke 4, we see Jesus in the wilderness. He’d been there 40 days with no food or water. His physical body had to be weary, hungry, and thirsty. In comes Satan: "Turn that stone to bread if you are who you say you are.” Jesus responded by blowing Satan off with a classic response. “Man doesn’t survive on bread alone but by the Word.” Three times Satan tempted Jesus, and three times Jesus said, “No.” That’s my point. Jesus was fully human and fully God. The temptations on His physical body and emotion were the same as you and me. Yet He chose to say no. That wasn’t miraculous – it was a man who had a relationship with the Father that stood His ground in obedience.

I rest in this ordeal by reminding myself I have the same power to say no. The same power to draw the line in the sand. What I must overcome is my earthly desire for the approval of mankind. I think of Jesus in the garden, “Not my will, but Yours.” I feel sure torture and death wasn’t a thrilling thought for Christ, yet He submitted to the Father.

So, today, my heart is heavy for the hold the world has on mankind. It’s like a spider that ensnares its prey and slowly wraps it in a white web cocoon. The Lord knows how imperfect Cindy is. He knows my faults, mistakes, and more so, my sin. I can’t hide from Him. I can, however, pray for bravery when forced to stand my ground. I can trust that His ways are far greater than what is offered here. Is it easy? Nope.

My friend, Billy Wayne, said, “We’re just all dirty. But Jesus doesn’t care about the dirt because He washes us clean.”

When you face a difficult decision that you know God stands firm on, lean onto the chest of Jesus. Standing firm will be tough, but the reward of Jesus is so worth it. In the meantime, pray.

Photo one: Image courtesy of Leonardo Thomas from Pixabay Photo two: Courtesy ofMark Filter from Pixabay Photo three: Courtesy of yueshuya from Pixabay

Submit! ME?

4/14/2023 4:00:00 PM BY Cindy Sproles

Submit? Me? That was the theme of the day. I think God hinted that I needed chickens for two reasons. 1) To give me a relaxation mode amid my work and 2) to teach me something. (He always has an ulterior motive – the sneak.)

You've heard me tell you about Lucky the rooster. He's a beautiful bird. I never thought I'd say a chicken was beautiful, but by chicken standards, he's a handsome boy. Teal, pearlescent white, deep green tail feathers stand tall above his back, and his strut matches his colors.

I often wonder how can an animal that is so beautiful have such a nasty attitude. I can't lie, I've dropkicked him across the coop a few times when he jumps at me, but I absolutely refuse to let a rooster get the best of me. I'm bigger and certainly smarter. Regardless of the reading I've done about roosters, this is just a trait – cocky, possessive, and defensive. But I say, oh, nooo, nooo. We're going to be friends, and he's going to like it. After all, I take excellent care of him. He's fed well with a diet of more than just chicken pellets. He gets fresh fruits and veggies. I keep his girl's nesting area perfect complete with a fan for summer and a heat lamp for winter. What's not to like about me?

Having spent 18 years as a vet surgery technician, I learned a few things about animals. The first is that you never show fear. The second is to stand straight and tall. The third is to know when to be submissive.

The first two are easy, but the third one… it's the toughy. By the same aspect, animals understand the meaning of not showing fear, standing tall, and being submissive. Doesn't seem fair, does it? I suppose you can say this puts us and them on level ground.

Lucky decided he would show me who owned the yard a few days ago. He strutted around, lowering his wing to his chest, cackling, and making a run at my legs. Though he's learned by consequence NOT to flog me, it doesn't stop him from trying to show his dominance. I decided it was time to end this power play, so when he brushed by me, I snagged him up by the neck. He squawked as I coraled his talons and massive feet then pulled him under my arm.

Though the temptation was there (again, I can't lie), to literally wring his neck, I snugged him against my side and began speaking gently to him as I stroked his beautiful feathers. Then came the moment of submission.

I lowered him and gently pressed his chest to the ground. His legs stiffened as he tried to stand, but I kept a tender pressure on his back, stroking him and speaking quietly to him. (OH PLEASE, everyone's a critic. I didn't whisper how fortunate he was that I didn't wring his neck! Shesh, people, give me an ounce of compassion here. I told him he was a handsome boy and I love his teal feathers. Shesh, folks…I could hear you through the internet).

It took a few minutes, but I eventually felt Lucky's body relax and his heart rate slow. He clucked quietly and never offered to peck my hand. Lucky understood it was time to submit. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but for today, he calmed and dropped the hard act.

After a while, I began to see the lesson God was teaching me – that is, submission is not a bad thing. In today's world, women especially feel that being submissive is a sign of weakness. They're offended and get a bit testy when they see those scriptures that say wives be submissive to their husbands.

They miss the meaning and the point.

Being submissive is not a sign of weakness, nor is it surrender. Being submissive is coming together in agreement, dropping the hard act, and working together. It's a matter of respect for one another, not disrespect. God doesn't teach us with tools like disrespect or anger. He teaches us with compassion and love. Gentleness. Kindness.

When we submit to Christ, we come into agreement with Him. We relax next to Him and understand that He always cares for us – even though some lessons are tough. Sometimes we submit and enjoy being stroked and snuggled next to Him. At other times we get cocky and try to show our dominance. That's when things will go a little awry.

The point is God isn't in the business of shoving our faces into the ground to eat dirt. He gently presses us into a sitting position – a resting posture, and when we relax, we are able to listen to the "whys" for His asking us to submit or join Him.

Lucky is a beautiful bird with an attitude. I'm sure God looks at me from time to time and says the same thing…" Cindy, you're lovely, but you got an attitude, gal.

I guess we’re never to old to learn even if it takes a rooster to show us.

Why Are People So Mean?

3/30/2023 10:45:00 PM BY Cindy Sproles

I’m grateful that Jesus wasn’t mean. Imagine if He would have been a stinker to folks. Just imagine. His plan for us would have been shut down. The question then and now would be the same. Why do people have to be so mean?

I’m traveling this week with two wonderful friends. We are each different in looks, size, hair color, and even skin color. Our conversation on the way to Alabama was light. We giggled a bit, joked around, and even teased each other, but then at some point, the conversation turned serious.

As we passed from state to state, we noticed churches and office buildings held their flags at half-mast. These churches and businesses were honoring the families of the six who were shot and killed in Nashville. This whole incident broke my heart. That, regardless of how folks want to blame it on mental illness, was just mean. It. Should. Not. Happen.

As we traveled, my friend, who is a beautiful woman of color, began to tell us about incidents of prejudice that had happened to her – not as a child or young adult, but in the last year. The more she talked, the more the tears pooled in my eyes. I couldn’t hold my emotion anymore. I had to wonder, yet again, why are people so mean?

“This breaks my heart. I’m so sorry people said those things to you.” The things she’d experienced – the words that had been flung at her simply because of her skin color – were just m-e-a-n. I was broken on behalf of all those who were so….well…stupid. I mean, look at this picture. It’s obvious WHO makes the better picture and it ain’t me! (And so you know, I asked Edwina if I could post the picture. She gave me permission. And, she’s read this post and given me her blessing.)

I will be honest, I hear so much from others that just rings true to “entitlement,” that I’ve grown a bit calloused. That made me ashamed. How could someone who despises meanness miss my own judgmental thoughts? But that’s how Satan works. He sneaks up on us and cunningly twists or even hides our thoughts of goodness from us. He slips in those crummy ideas, that though they may not be mean words, desensitize us to the feelings of others.

Meanness doesn’t just happen with a slap in the face or a punch to the gut. Meanness happens the easiest with the words that fall from our mouths. The hardest thing is learning to harness the words that make the dents. Are we perfect? Nope. But we can certainly begin to make an effort to change how we think, how we speak, and how we treat others.

Perhaps I’ll have a badge made that says, “Stop the meanness.” If I wear that badge, will it bring about awareness? It may make folks ask questions, but the biggest impact will be when I begin to change. My changes will overtly affect others, and perhaps they will change. And then their changes will make changes, and meanness becomes a loss.

Before you toss out an opinion about anyone, THINK. There is probably more to their story than you can possibly imagine.

I’m reminded of that children’s song from Sunday school.

Jesus loves the little children, all the children of the world. Red, brown, yellow, black, and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world. (Click to be reminded by the little ones and then remember those wee ones who died in Nashville. Oh, Lord, hear our cries.)

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