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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What Love Isn't
Saturday, May 4, 2019
Charlotte Snead

English doesn’t have enough words to express the nuances other languages use to convey love. Greek has three main words for love: phileo, or friendship love, (in Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love); Eros, or lust (erotica) and the highest form of love, agape, or divine love.

 The love defined by Hollywood is associated with perpetual sexual satisfaction, romantic bliss, and no struggles. Starry-eyed females stumble around creating every handsome boy into our Perfect Man. Unfortunately, when we get to know him, especially after we marry the guy—he turns out to have clay feet. When this love god with clay feet cannot make us happy, do we dump him and chase after the next guy?

Supremely, love is choices. Hollywood leaves us with our heart fluttering, but when we wake up with old morning breath over there, it comes down to a Choice. When he has no idea what he has done to hurt our feelings, can we forgive him, whether we feel like it or not? Has he forgotten your birthday or left you exhausted with screaming children to go play with his buddies?  Having grown up in a different family, he brings to marriage his own baggage of hurts, his own ways of expressing love. (Or not—my Scotsman thought tenderness was weakness. When I asked him why he never told me he loved me, he answered, “I married you. I bring the paycheck home every week.” Finally, I convinced him women need to HEAR it, over and over, and after fifty years, and now he tells me several times a day.)

Mothers have daily opportunities to choose to love. Tantrum-throwing toddlers don’t evoke feelings of love. When the little brat hollers “NO!” in your face and bops you, our inclination is to strike out. As mature women—most of the time—we know that doesn’t teach or train the right things, so we choose to moderate our response, exercising restraint and discipline. Feelings come when the little angels are asleep and look innocent. Or when their little arms curve around your neck, and they say: “I love you best of all.”

Love is choosing, willing the very best for another and working toward making that happen. Getting up in the middle of the night and cleaning up puke—do we feel lovey-dovey then? Setting aside your book to read his, giving up your new shoes to buy ones for their growing feet, giving up your vacation because you have hospital bills. Living on one salary so you can be there to teach and to guide, and God bless the single moms and dads who do it all, who are both mom and dad, while working to support them.

Choosing to love is choosing forgive and if you act loving and forgiving, feelings will surely follow. Never let your husband suspect that you don’t feel loving at this moment. Feelings are fickle things; they change with PMS, lack of sleep, or bad news. Choose Love—you aren’t faking it, you are acting in faith, knowing that your feelings lie and they will fall into line if you stay the course.

Love is a gift of the Holy Spirit, available by His grace. Paul wrote that three things endure forever: faith, hope, and agape love, and the greatest of these is love. If your love tank is running on empty, remember, God is love; ask Him to give you the love you need for your husband, your children and your friends.



Recent Posts

Joe Hits the Ground Running
Thursday, April 25, 2019
Charlotte Snead

We left the hospital last Saturday, and Sunday was Easter. Our children’s church had a Wild West theme, and Joe spent the time with our son, daughter-in-law and five year old grandson. They are not regular church attenders, and he wanted to make them comfortable. I was in church listening to the sermon which was excellent, but I think I missed all the fun. Alan rode a horse (with an adult), did not pet the goat, but did pet a rabbit. Our children’s pastor provided an excellent skit about a robbing renegade who got saved and reformed.

After service, we went to Dave’s house for lunch, our usual pattern. They are so good to feed us every Sunday after church and give us time with our grandson. (The highlight of our week.) This Sunday we crashed, doing very little and Shannon, with Dave’s help, waited on us.

Monday, Joe was back at a full day’s work. He arrived home tired, but managed to begin cutting the meadow. Tuesday he was back at work, but the student at Teen Challenge he tutors in math to pass her GED, was out of town, so we didn’t have our usual longTuesday. Other than being tired, he was fine, and on Wednesday night, he insisted on going to “Royal “Rangers,” the church’s scout troop. (I skipped, feeling guilty that I didn’t go.) Yesterday, after our annual review with Northwest Mutual completing our annual financial review, we stopped by our adult grandson’s job; he is a barista, making crepes and fancy coffees. Today, Joe is finishing up some charts and getting a recall on his truck serviced.

Hw ia adjusting his diet and he did admit he thinks this might be his last year. Ya Think? He will be 80 next year! Like the energizer bunny, he keeps on going, but perhaps his brush with mortality has given him pause for thought.

A lesson in appreciation
Wednesday, April 17, 2019
Charlotte Snead

I thought I appreciated my husband. I thank God for him during our daily prayers in the morning and when I lie down at night, but I really learned to appreciate him when he was in the hospital for three days. He woke up in extreme pain at 2 am last Wednesday, and I took him to the ER at 7. It took 3 hours to get his pain under control, and his blood pressure was out the roof. They did a scan and diagnosed diverticulitis. He was admitted at 3. Long day and longer times by his bedside. Lonely times at night. I was not a happy camper, looking across at his empty chair.

In the hospital, we spent some time with a nutritionist learning modifications he must make to his diet (He ate his beloved peanuts the night he got sick—that’s a big no-no now.) We have several recent widows in our church, and we pray for them each morning. I can live without nuts, but I don’t want to live without him.

Joe came home Saturday. Dave, our son, and his wife, Shannon, and grandson Alan spent much of the day with us. Because no one could do anything last week except sit beside him while his IV drip with pain meds and antibiotics was administered, no one in the family came to see him. As a much loved doctor in the hospital, a parade of folks in house dropped by, from the administrator and her assistant to the gift shop lady. He knew everyone by name and said good things about each one. (No wonder he is loved!)

He is well though he tires, but he taught Sunday school and went to work on Monday. And I had a good dose of appreciation.

Savor the Moments
Wednesday, April 10, 2019
Charlotte Snead

In the West Virginias mountains, when the colors are flung across the valleys, a magnificent painter has created a masterpiece. The glorious riot of colors makes me sing and laugh with joy. (Wonder what people driving alongside of me think!) I want my life to go out in a blaze of glory, too. In the autumn season of my life, I pray I will reflect the colors of my life as beautifully as nature does. Each season has its own unique pleasures, so I embrace each one.

How often as moms we said: "Oh, I can't wait until she is toilet trained," or: "Boy, it will be a relief when he can sit up by himself."  We wish their little seasons to go by quickly. And then the last one drives down the road with his U-Haul packed. Believe me, it wasn't long.

I wish I had the nature and ability to scrapbook. I love this new creative life record. I have boxes full of photos, but not much in order (and to put them in order will drive me insane!). Joe and I promise ourselves we will go through them when he retires.

I hold so many pictures in my heart: a shyly grinning girl hugging her baby brother close to her, a little black curly headed beauty rolling down the levy in New Orleans, a blond tyke trying to stand on his daddy's shoulders to see the choo-choo, a curly towhead with an earnest expression pedaling madly on his John Deere tractor, a proud trombonist leading the high school band. . . oh, so many pictures in my heart.

If your children are still home, look at them when they are unaware. Take a mental photo, remember them in your heart. Enjoy them in the springtime of their lives. Each age is tough, but transient, even fleeting. Play with them, dance with them, laugh with them, listen to them, tell them how wonderful they are, how unique and special. When mine were little, I would lie down with them, hold hands and run across the grass, come on, if you can't do that, you are too busy. Remember, mothering is a proud profession!

Nothing replaces a mother. (But grandma comes close!)



He was my Baby
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Charlotte Snead

I recently found this true ; it is a talk I had given when I was Mothers of Preschoolers mentor.

When our son Tom was in Special Forces, he was over six feet, and weighed about 230 pounds of solid muscle. He ran five miles a day. He’d been to Russia, Columbia, Peru, Argentina, Brazil, and places I will never know. He had lived in Spain, Korea, Panama, and was then in Ecuador. He was a Major in the Army, and a leader of men. His commanding officers and a U.S. Congressman had written us letters commending his service.

And one spring, he wrote us that his wife of five years had left him. I was being treated for Grave’s Disease, and I hadn’t been out of bed much for a week. I got on the internet and made reservations to fly to Ecuador. My wonderful husband, who supports me in everything, wondered how I could do this. I reasoned I’d be taking thyroid supplements by that time, and I should have some energy when the plane left. I emailed Tom that I was coming, and I went.

Tom and I had a wonderful week together in Ecuador. He treated me to a spa day at a thermal springs in the heart of that beautiful country; we traveled to his favorite places; I saw waterfalls coming from the tops of mountains, crashing down over two thousand feet; I saw volcanoes; I saw flowers and butterflies of brilliant hues, and animals I’d never seen. Most importantly I met his wonderful girlfriend. When Tom was born he had a blister on his thumb from where he had been sucking his thumb. If he could have gotten milk from that thumb, he never would have needed me! My self-sufficient one hadn’t told us his wife had left him over a year before. He recovered before he ever told us.

But he was my baby and I had to go. I had to hold him and tell him he is so loved and so wonderful. One of my favorite Dr. Seuss lines is from Horton Hears a Who: “A person is a person, no matter how small.” I am here to tell you that your baby is your baby, no matter how big. Being a parent never ends. Your heart is captivated forever and ever, and I’m a most blessed mom forever.

Catching up
Friday, March 15, 2019
Charlotte Snead

It is spring in Appalachia, and Allegra is now part of the daily regimen.

We drove to Charlottesville to see my sister in assisted living last week, Joe says we always have to travel to others, but it was good to see her, and at 83 years of age, she confessed Christ, so we are rejoicing. 

We have a houseguest this week, a guy from our Sunday School class who had a house fire. He will go home as soon as the power is back on.

Candace’s husband has an infection from his hip surgery, and she has to give him IV antibiotics through a port, but at least he’s home in White Sulphur Springs. Beth visited with us for several hours yesterday and our houseguest was much impressed with her work recuing children. (She is amazing.)

It’s been a busy time. Joe didn’t miss his Royal Rangers class at church last Wednesday night. He says he’s doing unto others what he wished had been done for his own children. One of the other “commanders” taught them finger-printing, and the kids will get a merit badge for that. Happily, they were able to play outside this week for a little while. (It’s hard to keep 6-12 year olds in a room for two hours.)

We see David’s boy, Joseph Alan, every Sunday. He and Shannon have us for lunch every Sunday after church. We’ll have to drive to Nashville (9 hours) to see Steve and Mary Katherine and their  three boys in the next week or so.



Having fun working
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Charlotte Snead

We spent last weekend at our vacation home in Canaan Valley, WV, with our son, Dave, his precious wife, Shannon, and our grandson, Alan. A fun time was had by all, despite the bitter cold. I did work, going over my edits from the second publication Van Rye is doing for me about my favorite character, Nick Costas, who was abused in foster homes but who became a father after God’s own heart to her three children and their two. He does an excellent job of editing; I am learning a lot from him.

The first book “In Your Arms,” is about the officers in the Marines who gave him his profession—music production, his work with O’Malley Productions,—and the cultural conflicts he presented his wife, Barb. The second one, Nick’s Heart” is about his heart surgery, the home he builds for the lost children of South L. A., and their speaking events. I’ll let you know when they are in print. I’m sure Nick’s antics will delight you.

My third book in the Hope House Girls series, “Gracie Goodbye” should be up for edits this week. It’s a busy time. I haven’t taken a deep breath since our travels, but I am constantly singing the songs from our ten days on Phil Coulter’s 23rd Tranquility Cruise. (“Sing Irishman Sing.”) 

After reading B.J Hoff’s five book Emerald Ballad series—a fantastic read!—I was pleased to learn about the resurgence of the Irish language. I’ve never done my ancestry, but I hope I have Irish in my heritage. Have you done your ancestry? Tell me if it’s worth it.