What Kind of Book Would I Choose First? by Sandra Rafuse

"Perhaps your first book is still a dream. Or maybe you haven't dared to dream—yet." These words from InScribe's July prompt makes up the perfect beginning sentences for my post this month. Write a book? A first book? Prior to joining InScribe Writers Online I had never entertained a single thought of attempting to do that. But sending in a monthly post each month for the past year and a half has changed what I'm thinking and maybe, just maybe, I could dare to dream to do that.

One day, several months ago, I wrote out three titles that I felt I could use for a book should I decide to write one. They were: I Miss My Mom, My Friend Doesn't Like Me Anymore, and I Am Different. The titles popped up into my head without any particular reason for them to be there, but later I realized they each dealt with thoughts I had been thinking and feelings I had been feeling in previous weeks. I also realized I was thinking of them as books to be written for children. Well here I sit, months later, and the titles are still in that list waiting to be used. Will I use them? Definitely not right now and probably not for a long time. But as I write my way out of the amateur status I feel I am in, then perhaps I will start to dream of writing a first book.

As I write, using the prompts we are given each month, I am becoming more and more aware of how much work and time and concentration it takes to get my words down in an order that makes sense. And I have a much greater appreciation of how authors and illustrators have to work to write their stories and draw their pictures for the books they put out. 

In my mind right now, because of July's prompt and because of reading the posts that have come in to InScribe so far, I am thinking of three kinds of children's books that I love to read that perhaps I would choose to write. The first kind of book is a chapter book. Over Sea, Under Stone is a good example of this. In it, the man from the Dark is made out to be so scary, the evil shows in his dark, piercing eyes and his black hair. He is tall and dark, untidy, and at the same time forbidding. I shudder whenever I read about him. The second kind of book I'm thinking of is a children's book that has two or three sentences along with pictures of the story on each page. Wilfred Gordon McDonald Partridge is a favourite example of this kind of book. In this story, the old woman, who is losing her memory, is dressed in a colourful, flowing dress that hangs loosely on her body, with a few inches of slip showing below the bottom of the dress. She wears a pair of plain socks with comfortable slippers. When the young boy finds out she has lost her memory, he carefully collects objects to show her that he believes will help her get her memory back. The third kind of book is a picture book. A Boy, A Dog and A Frog is a wonderful example. "A picture is worth a thousand words" is so true here. Look at frog's face. See how sad he is that the boy, the dog, and the turtle are leaving him at the pond. Look at how mad they are that they couldn't catch him. The whole story right before you in pictures!

Will I write and publish a book someday? That's something to think about. I like the posts that have been shared this month. They have been so honest and encouraging. Thank you for sharing.

Sandra Rafuse lives in the small town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan, with her husband, Bob, a Gordon Setter named Sadie, and a Peregrine falcon named Peet. She is a retired teacher, an amateur writer, and is thoroughly enjoying having the opportunity to share what God has been teaching her through her life's experiences.

Photo by Sandra Rafuse

My First by Brenda J Wood

 

Image by Donna Naquin from Pixabay

 

I didn’t recognize the signs.

The itch I couldn’t scratch.
The yearning to put pen in hand
My deep self-covered patch.

But then I took an interlude
A thoughtful introspect
Considered all my options
On me, I placed a bet.

Could I write that New York seller?
I confess it mattered not.
I wrote all that was in me.
I gave it all I got.

And thus, the teeny book came out.
It landed. Solid. True.
And so; there’s nothing left in me
But to write another few.

Still, there Is nothing like that first one
That fought for air to breathe
And let me be my real self
Oh what we can achieve

By putting pen to paper
And writing what’s on mind
Carving words from heart and head
To leave for those behind.

Brenda J Wood has authored more than fifty books. She is a seasoned motivational speaker, who declares the Word of God with wisdom, humour, and common sense.

Steady My Gaze: Poetry for the Anxious Soul by Mary Folkerts

 

I did not expect that the first book I would write would be a book of poetry. Though I have written poems since childhood, I never thought it would translate into a book. Lately, though, I’ve come to realize that poetry can plumb the depths of the soul and put emotions into words that sometimes are difficult to voice.

When our fourth child was born with Down syndrome, things within me began to shift. I had been keenly aware of my struggle with anxiety and melancholy previous to her birth, but now it felt like any perceived sense of control I may have possessed was effectively removed, leaving me grasping for footing. The shock of the diagnosis and the struggle that came with learning to navigate this new world of doctors and therapist appointments, health concerns, surgeries, and the unknown sent me spiraling into depression. This began my journey of searching for help and healing from past wounds, shame, and a scarcity mindset, exposing them layer by layer.

I don’t believe that the diagnosis of my daughter’s disability was the basis for my depression, but it widened the cracks of deep need that had been there long before. It revealed my own disabilities and took me on a lifelong journey of healing and revelation.

The book I am writing is part of that healing process. I am learning that joy does not come through circumstances, but from the presence of God with us. His presence is what sustains us even when life is difficult. My prayer for Steady My Gaze; Poetry for the Anxious Soul is that readers sojourn with me from lament to praise of a faithful God who holds us in the palm of His hand no matter how deep the valley.

I did not boast innate yearnings
for horticulturist’s hands—
only that rudbeckia
and cone flower grow,
and that weeds
be shorn shorter
than the wildflower’s
brilliant petals,
hiding the uncomely
beneath.

Content to have a garden
like others,
sufficient beauty
with relative ease.

Truth be told, I demanded
a simple garden,
one that heeded
my lack of patience
and fortitude.
I was not a girl made for
plucking and digging,
nurturing and persevering.
God would duly note
my deficiencies.

But instead,
the Master Gardener
planted an exquisite rose
in my unyielding soil,
when all I desired
were daisies.

My arguments emerged—
defiance, resistance
and indignation at such
lack of consultation,
such disregard
for my insufficiencies—
I with unskilled
hands,
could not tend the tender
flower,
I bore no capacity
for thorns.

My cries of offense
He met,
with gentle reassurance
that mine was to surrender
my paltry plans,
and rely on His qualifications
to do more
with my piece of dirt
than I could have
dreamed.

Unearthing
the hidden dross
beneath wilted wildflowers,
the Gardener cultivated
my skill,
for the flourishing
and rejuvenation of my soil,
tending the rose
with infinite tenderness,
and I, in the process.

So here I plunge the blade
into resistant loam,
excavating a tangle
of tap roots
twisted and deep,
generations old.

I’m learning to plow
the fallow ground,
grasping the gravity
of fertile soil,
not only the perception
thereof.

Sometimes,
the Master Gardener
plants a rose,
when all we wanted
were daisies.

Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a member of Proverbs 31 Ministries' COMPEL Writers Training, involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the Small Things https://maryfolkerts.com/ or connect on Instagram  https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/

God and the Goldfinch by Sharon Heagy (re-post)

Sometimes life happens and time goes by and your to do list is overwhelming. Then you pray and God says, 'For this month, print the one about the Goldfinches.' First published in July of 2020—the first year I began posting—this post remains dear to my heart, and birds remain a huge part of what brings me joy. May you be encouraged to carry on and know God is always near.

While picking saskatoon berries one morning, a unique birdsong captured my attention. I could hear the bird but was unable to spot it. Its song soothed my senses and blessed away my stress.

Birds have always had a special place in my heart and I watch them with keen interest. How do they fly? How do they sing? How can they eat their own weight each day and not gain an ounce? How can a sparrow stand outside in minus 53C windchill eating seeds and not turn into a ‘sparrowcicle’? They are miraculous. Perhaps it is my fascination with birds that led me to my request of God.

It was at a significant low point in my life. Terrible circumstances surrounded me. The passing of a two-year-old girl, a family friend who died in her mother’s arms, was particularly crushing.

In my own family I was struggling as my kids were making destructive choices despite fervent prayers, leading me to believe I was a lousy mother and an ineffective follower of Christ rather than realizing they had free will. Spiralling down I crashed into a crisis of faith. There was no light. There was no hope. I questioned everything I believed, even to the existence of God himself. Was I just nuts? Had He ever spoken to me?

Sitting on my deck, weeping and crying I called out to God from the depths of despair, not even knowing if I knew Him anymore. “Are you there?” I railed. “Do you care? Please, God, show me. Right or wrong I am asking for a sign. I’m desperate, Lord. Please. Please just send one goldfinch to the yard right now and I will know the truth.”

In the receding wake of shuddering sobs, I waited. Waited as the sky grew dark and the birds went to bed. No goldfinch. No promise. No answer. I went to bed devastated and exhausted, feeling deserted and alone. Sleep was elusive and when it did come it was restless and short.

Dawn greeted me with puffy eyes and a groggy head. Leaden feet padded their way into the kitchen where I leaned weakly on the counter. Blankly my gaze came to rest over the windowsill.

I froze for a moment, then started to melt. There, outside my window, was not one goldfinch but an entire flock! They covered the feeders, the hedges, the guy wire on the power pole. It was an explosion of yellow. Never have I seen so many goldfinches in one place and never have I seen that many since.

In that moment I knew without a doubt that God had answered my prayer. Hope was restored, faith was resurrected and I knew the truth.

Now when circumstances challenge and test my faith I know He is with me. The following verse girds me and gives me hope:

“I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”

(Lamentations 3:19-23 NIV)

This is the direction I received to find my way out of the pit. And I want you to know that if you too find yourself looking for a pinpoint of light in the darkness, be encouraged. He is right there beside you and will help you find your way. And if there is any way that I can pray for you, let me know. It would be an honour and a privilege. We are in this journey together.

 

Sharon Heagy writes from the wonderful town of Rockglen, Saskatchewan, where she lives with her husband, a big dog and furry cats. She writes to bring hope and humour to a world that needs both. She can be reached at sharonheagy@gmail.com

Thanks for taking the time to visit today. God bless.