Best 23 quotes of Karen Witemeyer on MyQuotes

Karen Witemeyer

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    Karen Witemeyer

    A chuckle escaped Meredith's lips as Cassie swung from sleepy little girl to sympathetic confidante to vengeful angel all in the course of a single minute.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Are you sure I can't mend a shirt or darn a sock for you in trade? Anything?" "You can quit your yammerin' and carry this table downstairs so I can get back to minding my own business instead of messing around in yours.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Dear God, I don't want my fear to be a barrier to the blessings you are trying to bestow. Cast out my fear, and help me to trust your perfect love. But also grant me a full measure of wisdom. Do not let me be led astray by my own desires. If it is not your will that I pursue a relationship with Levi, I pray that you will stop me. Make your message so clear that I cannot argue it away. Protect me, Lord, and show me the way I should go.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    He could fit what he knew about women in a bullet casing and still have room for the gunpowder.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Helping a woman make biscuits should not make a fellow this happy. But when the woman was the fellow's wife, and she smiled at him as if he were the noblest hero of her acquaintance--well, it couldn't be helped.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Her heart felt like it had been thrown around like a child on a twenty-foot seesaw--exhilarating highs followed by crashing lows, only to repeat with new joys and terrifying fears. It left her light-headed, off-balance, and a tiny bit nauseated.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    He unlaced his arms and took a step forward. "You hurt?" "Not badly." She tried to smile, but her lips only curved on one side. "My main problem is that I'm stuck to a cactus." (...) "How'd you manage to get tangled up with a cactus?" J.T. crouched beside her and started extricating her from the prickly plant. "Well, believe it or not, I was on my way to apologize to you when a prairie-dog hole jumped up and grabbed my shoe heel.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    He was halfway to the house, thinking to set the cabbage inside the kitchen door,when a brown blur thundered past him. Joanna Robbins tore out of the barn astride a magnificent chestnut quarter horse. She leaned forward in the saddle,hat flopping against her back, hair streaming out behind her in a wild curly mass as she urged her mount to a full-out gallop. Unable to do anything but stare, Crockett stood dumbstruck as she raced past. She was the most amazing horsewoman he'd ever seen. Joanna Robbins. The shy creature who claimed painting and reading were her favorite pastimes had just bolted across the yard like a seasoned jockey atop Thoroughbred. She might have inherited her mother's grace and manners, but the woman rode like her outlaw father.Maybe better.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    His gaze slid toward the back of the sanctuary and collided with Joanna, standing silently in the doorway. You...Crockett's voice tapered off. For a moment, all he could do was stare. Her rapt attention, the tiny smile that brought into relief the freckles dusting her cheekbones, the way the light passed through the doorway behind her to see her hair ablaze beneath the prim straw bonnet she wore. Yet it was her inner light that captured him the most. The serenity of her features. The glow in her blue eyes. This was a woman of authentic spirituality. No wonder the Master Weaver had chosen her to be the central thread to anchor his new tapestry.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Honey, if the man is that dense, you can drag that cot he been sleepin' on into your room, nab his clothes, and lay in wait for him. When he comes lookin' for his things, lock the door and settle the matter once and for all.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    I had a long talk with my husband last night,' Abigail explained, 'and he made me realize that I have to choose which voices to believe. I can believe the ones that tell me I'm not good enough or brave enough or pretty enough and let them skew my perception of events, or I can push aside that clamor and seek out the voice that tells me I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    In the last three years, he'd met many women.Young. Old. Pretty. Plain. Devout. Flirtatious. After living only among men for years,he found he enjoyed the company of women.Their gracious manners.Their gentle ways.Their lovely figures. But never had he felt anything deeper than a surface admiration. Perhaps because he'd been so focused on his training.Yet only after a handful of minutes, Joanna Robbins had touched something deep inside him, as only a kindred spirit could do. She'd experienced the Lord's call on her life as surely as he had.And while he'd been called to minister to many, she'd been called for one. Who was he to say her calling any less significant than his own? In fact her dedication to the one in her care humbled him, gave him a perspective he'd been lacking. In other circumstances,he could easily imagine the two of them becoming friends. Maybe after he settled in Brenham, he could write to her, encourage her.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    It was Logan's job to live for God, and God's job to take care of the rest.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    I've chosen fear over faith more times than I can count,' she admitted. 'And every time I did, I ended up with regrets.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Only a master weaver could intertwine dark and light threads in such a way that all one saw was beauty when looking back at the finished tapestry.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Perhaps he felt a touch of gratitude too for the fact that they had each other, for better or worse. They might be facing the worse right now, but the fact that they could lean on each other in the midst of it moved it into the better category.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Stone rose to his feet and bent down to capture on of her hands. Dobson's not the only man you can depend on, Charlotte.She looked at him a long moment before tugging her hand free. We'll see.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    The problem with memorizing scripture was that it rose up to prod her conscience at the most inconvenient times. Nothing like having Jesus call her a hypocrite to slap down her indignation over Logan's infractions.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Was that love? If so, he couldn't fathom why poets waxed on about it being such a blissful state. As far as he could tell, it was about as blissful as riding an unbroke horse, a bone-rattling endeavor where one held on for dear life, unable to recognize if he was making progress until either the horse quit buckin' or the ground smacked him in the face.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    With no sums to keep his conscience at bay, the black book loomed large, creeping into his line of sight. He scanned the room for something else to do. The harness still needed work. And he'd been meaning to fix that rickety shelf since last month. The pipe on his potbellied stove was dented. The windowsill needed dusting. Dusting? J.T. braced his arms on the desk and pressed his forehead into the heels of his hands.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    Yet it was her inner light that captured him most.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    You got someone else courting you?" "No." The fork she'd been scrubbing slid from her hand, returning to the murky depths. "But then, I wasn't sure I had you courting me, either. I seem to recall you expressing a number of objections to my suitability in the past.

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    Karen Witemeyer

    You need not treat me like a child, sir. I am perfectly capable of navigating this staircase on my own." He snorted. Her nostrils flared. "I promise not to ask you to catch me again, all right? Now stop scowling." Of course he did no such thing.