Jamie Janosz

When I was little, I wanted to be exactly like Nancy Drew. If I were brave like her, I would walk fearlessly into any unknown situation and not lose my cool. I would be smart and clever. I would drive my own car, face off bad guys, and solve mysteries. I'd wear a plaid skirt and penny loafers, and I'd be brave. In reality, I was anything but brave. I was afraid of going to gymn class at 1 p.m. I was afraid of being kicked by a soccer ball or climbing the rope. I was terribly shy and didn't like talking to anyone. I was afraid of getting hurt. I was afraid of the dark, of boys, of shadows, of pretty much everything. Sometimes I still feel like that same scared girl on the inside - a girl who worries and frets - a girl who is fearful and timid. I have to be reminded to be a brave women and to inspire a brave daughter. What does it mean to be brave? Fierce. Strong. Independent. I want to be like that. I want my daughter to be like that. In the book (and movie) ...

I asked you to nominate brave women for my book giveaway. Wow! I am inspired and humbled to hear their stories - and the obvious ways they have nurtured your lives. While my book was about inspiring women who lived in the late 1800s, it is clear to me that God continues to show Himself today (in 2014) through modern-day women, who live quiet, faithful, and generous lives. In my own life, I have watched my sister (Julie Storms Lunt) and my mom (Jan Storms Czapla) go through incredible trials and yet remain strong and loving and beautiful. Julie survived a brain tumor that could have taken her life - but today she is a walking miracle: thriving, married, living in Chicago, and teaching school. My mom faced the loss of her husband (my dad), and her parents in an incredibly short span of time, yet she kept pushing forward, completing a lifetime of teaching and inspiring children - and even daring to find love again. I admire them both deeply and love them beyond words. Let's ce...

Two pieces of literature came to a crossroads in my mind last week. I finally got around to reading The Help , Kathryn Stockett's bestselling novel and movie, which depicts the conflicted relationships between African American housekeepers in the South and the women for whom they worked. That same week, as a fulfillment of my daughter's Social Studies homework, I re-watched the movie The Crucible , based on Arthur Miller's famous play about the Salem witch trials. The Help is an amazing book. I loved the varied perspectives and the way it illuminated a slice of history that I know very little about. I found myself cheering for Abileen and Skeeter who were brave, wise, and wonderful women, each standing up against the repressive culture of their time. At one point in the novel, I came upon a date - 1963, and was shocked to realize that this period of American history happened during my own life time. I was born in 1965. Since I grew up in the Midwest, my experience...