Several friends are asking, "Am I in this novel?"

When this happens, I reply, "Yes, you might see yourself somewhere." I say this because we are all on a journey. For some, it may be simply to get through the day. However, for many of us,  it's a journey to discover and fulfill our purpose. Like Pilgrim in John Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, the Christian's journey includes inconvenience, pitfalls and setbacks but, as we persevere, our purpose and God's promise becomes clear. 

Yes, on this side of eternity, life seems like Uncharted Waters, but believers have a Father with a perfect GPS. We will arrive home, and it will be a glorious destination. In the meantime, we confront anxiety and fear. I hope this novel will help you cope with life's uncertainties and to remember you are not traveling alone.

Below is the audio from my interview on Troy University Radio with Carolyn Hutcheson on October 08, 2012.

Click play below to listen to the interview:

Trembling now, I moved closer to the tunnel wall, wondering how long it would take me to run back to my car if the man approached. Donnie was right. I shouldn’t have come. Beth goes deeper into the tunnel.

Someone sneezed. I looked behind me. Nothing. No, it wasn’t a sneeze . . . it was a train—a six o’clock freight train pulling through the train shed just west of the tunnel. Now came a mournful whistle blow, followed by two more. Ordinarily, I love the sound of a train, but this was distracting. What should I do? I crept several more paces inside the hollow tube, hoping to recognize the person at the other end. The man had definitely moved closer but I couldn’t identify him . . .

To see an interview with Lena Nelson Dooley click the link below.

http://lenanelsondooley.blogspot.com/2012/10/uncharted-waters-sara-dubose-one-free.html

Soon I took the Union Street exit and passed the Little White House of the Confederacy on my left. Now there was no time for reminiscing or touring as I had done with Dad. Today I stayed on Union, passing the back of the Alabama State Capitol on my way to Madison Avenue. My mind accelerated. What . . . what if he has a gun? Beth, this man wants a date with you. It’s not likely he’ll have a gun. If by some slim chance he pulls a pistol, remember the cautionary e-mail you received recently: run like mad. Run in a zigzag fashion.

I stared out the windshield, trying to simulate a dash through the tunnel but my whole body suddenly felt like someone had stuffed me inside a kettle drum during the William Tell Overture. I turned onto Madison and drove west to Commerce. Almost there.

Dreams are strange, and sometimes deadly, bed fellows. Sunday night I met my stalker in the tunnel and felt his clammy fingers reach for a button on my blouse. When I resisted, his hands moved to my neck and began to tighten as I twisted my head back and forth and tried to position an elbow for a stab at his Adam’s apple. But, before I could pull my left arm into position, he used a leg to trip me and I fell to the brick floor gasping for air.

Twenty minutes later a rather young, yet weary looking, Sergeant B.R. Lacey arrived to determine the damage to my car. Lacey’s most distinguishing feature was his eyebrows. They resembled two centipedes about to attack each other as they crossed the bridge of his nose.  Even after several minutes of searching, we didn’t find a thing. Lacey said he suspected the culprit had used a pellet gun but he offered to look for a cartridge back at the Woodview entrance.