Rather than offer Jennifer Genat a standard interview, I asked her to share part of her life with us – either a story about how she met her husband, her testimony of faith, or a story of heritage from her family’s past. Jennifer offered to share the story about how she first met her husband, Peter.
How I met my husband:
Sometimes God speaks to us in that small, still voice, sometimes He has to speak a little louder, and sometimes He has to make things happen to get our attention I was nearly thirty, and like most women, wanted to find that special someone, get married and live happily ever after. However, God managed to tell me—and from this distance, I forget how—that I needed to let this desire go. Not long afterwards, I was on my way to a church service when a kangaroo jumped out in front of me, pushing my car’s radiator into the fan and definitely putting her out of action. I missed the evening service, but was determined to go to the fellowship group at the pastor’s house afterwards, and borrowed my brother’s car. That’s when God did some moving and shaking and through prophecy that evening I became convinced I should go to bible college—my destination the mission field. I was told that I would go to some place where there were tall trees, and hills. I put in my resignation the very next day, and enrolled at BCV.
Meanwhile, a certain Peter Genat had become convinced that he needed to go there too, and he ended up in my cell group. He arrived late, older than most, and looking as if he would rather be somewhere else. I thought to myself, “Hullo, what have we got here?” It was definitely not love at first sight. It was not until my room-mate, Julie—who ran the college birthday book—pointed out to me that our birthdays were one day apart, his on the last day of winter, mine on the first day of spring, that I took a second look at him—egged on by Julie.
Nothing much happened until I lent him my White-Out—how romantic! Peter had never heard of such a thing, but it became a staple in his written work. Living on a flower farm, Peter had access to any amount of flowers, and he began to bring me seasonal specimens. I was impressed, but little did I know he was impartial in his floral favours, and I was not the only recipient of them! It was not your typical courtship, but he did progress to bringing cups of Milo to my door—of course, men were not permitted to put a foot in the girls’ rooms. It seems that everyone in college saw the writing on the wall, before we did. That was in 1984; we got married the next year, and never did become missionaries. I don’t think that was in God’s plan from the start. I firmly believe that we were sent to BCV to meet each other, and now four children later, and nearly twenty-eight years of marriage behind us, I still do. And, by the way, we do live among hills and tall trees…
Thanks Jennifer, that made me chuckle, as well as get a tear in my eye. Last week I reviewed The Old House at Mount Munecarthur. What are you working on now, Jennifer?
Currently, I am fine-tuning a finished book, which—as usual—I have had a lot of fun writing. It concerns a young woman who initially goes to an out-of-the way place to be a mother’s help, but quickly finds that things are not what they seem. The book’s scope is wider than either of my first two books, and a lot longer—which could be a problem! It is “the mixture as before,” that is, suspense, adventure, and a touch of romance, but with each book, I am becoming a little bolder with the romantic aspect. But I definitely know where to stop!
Sounds great Jennifer. Thanks for joining me here on my blog. Jennifer has just released her second novel, called A Girl Like Trudy. I’m looking forward to reading it.
Her fear was now so acute that her thoughts had telescoped and narrowed into this one aim: leaving. She would rather die of starvation in the bush than the alternative. The Cains farm did indeed abut onto a large tract of bushland, dry mallee scrub, flat and featureless as far as Trudy knew, though she had never been into it. She never knew that it was a place of beauty in the springtime when the wildflowers were out, and orchids, bachelors buttons, dogs ears, everlasting daisies and many other varieties bloomed extravagantly and with abandon.
Fifteen-year-old Trudy is an outsider, shunned by her peers at school, over-worked at home on their isolated farm by her brutal, adoptive father, and harassed by his three uncouth sons. The Cains always expect the worst, but Trudy has a different way of thinking. She never loses hope that someday things will be different. She has her dreams, and she has her faith, fostered by the discovery of an old hymnal in her attic bedroom. The treasures it contains help her cope with the privations she endures and reassure her that God has not forgotten her. Trudy’s life is hard, and now a new threat begins to loom over her when the eldest boy begins to behave in a way that makes her not only uncomfortable but deeply afraid. Escape seems impossible, until she is badly injured and a young man called Daniel comes to her rescue. A doorway gradually opens to all the things she has most wanted, but despite the happiness she begins to feel, her trials are not yet over and danger waits in the most pleasant surroundings. If ever a girl needs a hero, it is A Girl Like Trudy.
This is a book about changes and second chances, but not for Trudy only. Despite its sombre start, this is an uplifting book, with a very satisfying conclusion,
and more than a grain of truth about the fate of many orphans adopted out in the time when this book is set.
Leave a Reply