Welcome to charlottesnead.com

 Sacred Passion is God's Idea,

Romance is vital in marriage. I married in 1962. I began to mentor Mothers of Preschoolers in 1994. Every year since, my team insists I do my "sex talk," but it’s so much more. Being in right relationship with God, attending a vibrant and growing community of believers, choosing to forgive, to respect, and understanding submission is not surrender of self--all goes into the package that makes up a healthy marriage. I want to share it with you.

I write Romance to promote the marital relationship. God wrote the Song of Solomon, and he tells us the marriage bed is undefiled. Together we celebrate his sacred gift! For a good read, check out my books, my short stories, my devotions and my blog posts. 

The blogs, devotions, and mentor’s moments from those years are free. Use them, share them, but they are copyrighted. Please cite charlottesnead.com and invite others to the site. 


Mentor's Moments



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A Faith to Die For
Monday, September 25, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

When 29 young men went to work in Libya.unable to find work in their own country, Egypt, because of their beliefs. They were Coptic Christians. Captured by Isis, they were forced to kneel on the sand and choose. If they would proclaim themselves to be Muslim, they would. Every one of them proclaimed Jesus is Lord, and one by one they were beheaded. The scene was shown on television across the globe—Isis made poor choice, because the world saw a faith worth dying for. I have a book, Martyred for their Faith, and I receive a monthly magazine by that name. Did you know more Christians have been martyred for their faith in the last century than in all the centuries since the Resurrection of Christ? We think of the lion’s den, the Roman catacombs, Nero—even the Reformation, but no, now is the time of martyrdom.

The Church in America is so blasé. We see fake murders in movies and on TV, but that actor lives another day. It’s not real. Perhaps we have become inured to murder and mayhem. We spend more time arguing about whether gays should have a wedding cake than the death and kidnapping of hundreds of Christians in Africa. We tweet: “bring back our girls” for a couple of days and forget. We don’t imagine it could happen to us here. For us, if someone ridicules us or rejects us, that’s persecution. Give me a break.

If you were forced to kneel and the person beside you had his head cut off, would you, too, confess Jesus? You might die to rescue your child, but would you die for an unseen Savior? In North Korea after the war, Christians were rounded up. A father was forced at gunpoint to dig a trench. His wife and children were marched into that trench and buried alive before his eyes. His wife sang songs of faith and assured her children over and over that: “In just a few minutes we’ll see Jesus.” She knew her husband would be with them in that place that Jesus has prepared for us. One of the soldiers who saw this was haunted until the day he found the Savior and a faith to die for.

Eternity is a long time—an unending time. Talking of His impending death, Jesus said, “If I go, I go to prepare a place for you, and I will come again to receive you to Myself.” We have a personal escort to that place. When the first martyr, Stephen, was stoned, he said, “Behold, I see the heavens opened and the Son of man standing on the right hand of God.” Those 29 young men on the Libyan sand saw the same thing, and like him they cried, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”

Do we have a faith to sustain us, a faith die for?


Recent Posts

Tuesday, September 19, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

“Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one’s youth. Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them; They shall not be ashamed, But shall speak with their enemies in the gate.” (Psalm 127:3-5)

As I write this we recently spent the weekend with our youngest son and his wife and three boys. I am a happy woman. I have a heritage. Fall is coming, school has started, and some of you have sent your kids off to school with mixed emotions, pride, yes, but a sense of loss. They are so little. The house is quiet. Every year I dreaded that time. The happy fellowship of summer, the fun-filled warmth, the laughter, and the adventures you shared are past. I remember the day the UHaul, filled with my youngest son’s possessions rolled up the hill as he departed for his first job after graduating from college. Now he is moving from Lexington, Virginia, four hours away, to Nashville, Tennessee, a nine hour drive. He’s not a little boy anymore. He is a man, the head of his own family, and I confess, I’m proud of the man he’s become, and thankful I had a part. He has 3 beautiful boys 5,3 and under a year. Can I count these arrows? I guess they are his, but I’m sure they will fly far and add to his heritage.

Because what good are arrows that stay in the quiver? You pull those arrows out of the quiver and send them flying farther than you can go to fight God’s battles. You train them to be the men and women they will become. The world needs them, and they belong to God. They are on loan for such a little while. Enjoy these days, make the most of them, and send them out into the world prepared and equipped by your love, and the things you have taught them deposited in their hearts to guide them.

The echoes of their laughter, their tears, their tantrums, are tucked away in my heart.  When you tuck them into bed tonight, it is one less day you will have with them. Live it to the fullest and treasure it when you collapse with exhaustion.



And the Good News Is . . .
Wednesday, September 06, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

And the Good News is . . .

We all have a work for God. On Sunday, my preacher exhorted us to roll up our sleeves and get on with the “work” of the ministry.

My work is to write fiction that woos people to Christ, and I “work” at my ministry. I go to conferences and workshops, I write and write and rewrite. Over six years ago, my former publisher told me my next series would be The Hope House Girls—ongoing stories telling the redemptive plan of God in the lives of the five girls who shared a summer at a maternity home and became lifelong friends.

 Sadly, this publisheer dropped off the map, not even publishing the four books in the first series, but I kept writing, pitching, perfecting. I won a contest with Jan Carol Publishing, and the first book, A Place to Live, was published; now the second one, Always my Son, is hot off the press.

Jan Carol Press has contracted to publish the series! Now, I will tell my readers how God turned a girl caught up in the sex trade into a minister. How He made a sexually abused kid into a loving wife and mother with a successful trade. How God freed a girl who was gang raped and made her a Psalmist who freed others. And how God turned an ‘ugly,’ rejected woman into a pediatrician and her husband’s Nile goddess.

God does have a plan and a purpose for each of us, and some of such were we (I Corinthians 6:11), but now we are sanctified . . .  justified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of our God. I want to share their inspiring journeys with you.


Mothers: Joined with the Creator
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

Mothers of Preschoolers starts next week, and mentoring these women for twenty years, I have learned. For many years I didn’t comprehend the Truth until I came to know women—Steel Magnolias. Fragile enough to discolor at a touch. Strong enough not to break, and, when bruised, to release a sweet scent.

Women. Mothers.


Ah, that’s our great secret. Because we are weaker, because we carry life within our bodies, feeling that life yearning to live apart, straining at the confined space of our wombs, because we undergo that most amazing force of nature, the separation of the child from its mother in the impossible-to-stop powerful force of labor, we reach out for Someone outside ourselves. We NEED God. Every time I gave birth, I thought: Me and God have done this amazing thing. Together, we have given Life.

And in the difficult places and choices of life, we are aware of a Life-force greater than ourselves, and we seek Him over and over, and then we find in our weakness is strength. The Spirit of woman.

The Lord said: “Let the weak say I am strong.”  We cannot cling to man’s foolish notion that he is strong. In labor, we can do nothing to prevent that birth. Later, when we are exhausted and broken in spirit, we look at our babies and know, somehow, someway, for them, we must go on.

A woman’s words can crush her man or build him up. Comfort her child or make him cruel and bitter. Sooth trouble or stir up wars.

Because we turn to the One Who made us and let His life and love flow through us, we are strong. We are joined with the Creator. Without Mothers, the world could not continue phsically or spiritually. We not only give birth, but we give life: we feed, clothe, nurture, whisper words of love and encouragement, speak firm words of correction, hold, speak, sing. We are mothers, the strongest force on earth.

Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

Last wee we visited our son and his family. We made the nine hour drive to Nashville from our home in two days, pulling in about 1 in the afternoon. Before I got the car door open, I heard our two grandsons hollering, “Grammy, Grammy, Grammy! Grammy’s here!” and my heart rejoiced. I told my husband, “Do you hear the music? That is music to my ears.”

When they moved two years ago, they changed their former four hour drive to a nine hour drive, but it was a wonderful opportunity for them—a promotion, greater salary, more responsibility, and much closer to our daughter-in-law’s family home in Mississippi. We encouraged them heartily to make the move, despite the greater difficulty in getting to see their boys. The older kids were our enthusiastic greeters. The younger one, six months, was slower to warm up, but we devoted ourselves to giving him time to be reacquainted. We stored up hugs and story times and vowed to make the trip often, because it is important for grandchildren to know their legacy, to feel a part of a heritage greater than their immediate family.

Whenever we visit the grandchildren, and we have ten now, they want to hear family stories about when their parents were little. They know many of them (“Tell us about when Daddy set the forest on fire,” or, “Tell us about Dad’s pet duck.” Or the snake in the hen house or . . . .) And we connect them to their family history.

This is an important part of grand-parenting—beyond the unconditional love, we provide a legacy


Stop the World (I want to get off)
Wednesday, August 09, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

Stop the World (I want to get off)

 You see all the books I have to sell? 

I confess, I have been irritable and cross, grumpy and unappreciative.

Joe still works several days a week, maintains the half-mile gravel road, has lost much of his garden, and cuts a lot of grass! I try to write (not getting much of that done). I’m frustrated because I have tons to do after my conferences, and I took off last week to take my grandson to North Carolina for his weld test. I lost my momentum and can’t seem to get back in the groove. Moreover, much of what needs to be done is tech stuff that I have yet to master: link my blog to Pinterest and Facebook, set up a Facebook author page, open an Instagram account, and maintain my contacts. I have a Bible study at the senior citizens, and I must prepare for a MOPS retreat here at the house this weekend. (And our grandson is living with us.) I can’t remember when we sat down to a meal together.

We scheduled three days in our mountain home to get away, and I lost one of those days when the retreat was canceled and rescheduled. (Good thing, because I had to take my grandson.) We leave tomorrow. No Cass Railroad trip, not enough time. We need this time. Time to relax, be together, hold hands, remember why we love one another. Do you do that?

I’m glad we are still actively in His service, but I fear I’m not giving Him my best. Thank God we have only missed one morning of our devotions. Praying together after we read the Word is essential to start our day right. May God maximize this time we do have. I cling to His promise that He remains faithful when we do not. 

My Pitiful Cross
Wednesday, August 02, 2017
Charlotte S. Snead

All I want to do is stay home! 

 Joe convinced me to go the Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference last week. “Once you get there, you’ll be glad.” He was right. This conference allows him to attend the general sessions (just not the workshops), which were excellent! Met old friends and made new ones. Pitched a book and found a fabulous one: Youthanize, which will set everything you’ve ever thought about youth ministry on its head! I will quote extensively from it in training my Mothers of Preschoolers team.  

For example, on page 135, "Stop bringing people to Jesus, instead, let's bring Jesus to people." or: page 111: We should treat every unbelieving teenager [mother, neighbor, friend, etc--my adds] as a POW, captured by the enemy, uniting in prayer for their release from bondage." Cook compels us to love, not judge. God is the judge, we are the fishermen. "I talk a lot about love . . . because when people know you love them, they listen to you. An open ear can lead to an open heart."

I came home from the conference with lots of contacts and opportunities, and spent my first day writing for them, sleeves rolled up. Yesterday I reviewed and returned edits from Roane publishing on the anthology (4 authors). I was interrupted by a call from grandson—he has a fabulous job offer in N.C. and has to go for a weld test. Terrific! (The boss’s website notes he has a ministry! For this we have prayed—“God surround him with Christians where he works.” Remember, he is a welder, but God is able.) Next call from his mom, our daughter: an attorney, she has hearings scheduled, can I go with him?

 Johnson City, our last trip, a photo in the TV studio for an interview in TriCity Daybreak

Sigh. Another drive. A cross—but my brothers and sisters are facing death to be saints in the Middle East. Ok, God, I get it. Thursday I will ride to North Carolina yet again for the love of a grandson.