Remembrance Day - Gwen Mathieu

Remembrance Day

A day set aside to remember those who gave their lives for our freedom; to remember those who endured extreme hardship in fighting for our freedom. Wilfred Harold Eugene Ostlund (Uncle Bill) was one of the young fellows who suffered hardship in fighting for our country. In 1940 he joined the Royal Canadian Air Force, serving overseas in World War II. On one of his expeditions his plane was shot down. He was the lone survivor of a crew of seven. He was taken as a prisoner of war for two years. He would not talk about his days as a POW. Following is a postcard he sent to my maternal grandmother. His dad passed away earlier:

“Sun April 24 – 1944 Dear Folks – out of Hospital & in with some 50 Eng & Can Fellows – fairly comfortable and a nice bunch – took in show last night sponsored by Can’s. This morning went to church – prisoner of war life is what you make it and lots to do if you have the initiative – am studying salesmanship from books an various other books – tomorrow we receive Can. Red Cross Food parcel. They all say Canadian parcels are the best – 3 cheers for Canada – am getting some lost weight back with an enormous appetite which of course is limited – Love Wilfred” His postcard was sent from Germany, examined by D.B.

Uncle Bill died at the age of 95. Although he had some dark days in his life, he was an overcomer. He had been blessed with a praying mother.

Better Writing Skills - Gwen Mathieu

Here it is Oct. 4, 10:00 p.m. and I realize I am to post some type of writing. It seems I leave some things until the last minute.

I believe it was Jerry Jenkins who said, "Writing a novel is hard work." I think even writing a small thing like a blog post is hard work.

I am looking forward to our "Critique Writer's Group" starting this week. There is nothing like a writer's group to get you motivated and help discipline your writing time. I need a lot of encouragement in this area. There are too many things in my life that are distracting, but enjoyable. Like reading, for instance. I love to bury myself in some one's plot. I love being introduced to new characters. The last two novels I read were delightful and inspirational.

Oh, if I could only write like that! Perhaps I can. But I will never know if I don't try. I need to continue on with the novel I started nearly ten years ago. Ten years! Surely I have learned "better writing skills" during that time. Surely?

Inside Out - Gwen Mathieu

Monday was a holiday, so after doing some extra cleaning, I decided to set up our tent-like canopy gazebo; you know the kind, with numerous poles and netting. It was a hand-me down from my sister; her yard had outgrown it.


I set it up a few times before but it was always in the way of cutting the lawn. While mowing earlier in the day, I spotted a neat corner of the yard, among the pine trees, where the grass grows sparingly. That will be a perfect spot. I had to saw a few dead branches off a pine tree, to make room, but that was no problem.

I spread out the canopy, dumped the metal poles on the ground and set to work. Having put most of the poles through the loops, I was convinced it was upside down so I pulled out some pegs and turned it over. I spread it out, again, pounded the pegs in, again. Lawn chairs had to be put in the middle in order to get under the structure to put the poles in place. This was not an easy task on a hot day, wearing a hoodie to keep mosquitoes away.

Finally, I had the contraption constructed, zippered the flap shut and sat in a mosquito free canopy. What pleasure! Looking up at the top cover, I wondered why the ends of the tent were sagging. Are some of the ties missing for the poles? I studied it for sometime before I realized the canopy was inside out. The top poles were to be inside, holding up the edges and the inner poles were to be outside. After changing it twice, I decided it could stay that way for a few days. And as I sat in the canopy tent, I was staring at a crop of raspberries needing to be picked. So much for enjoying my mosquito free venture.

Some days go like that! I had no instructions for assembling and guessed at every turn; even ended up with an extra pole from somewhere. In my Christian walk, if I don’t use the pattern set out in God’s word, my life will take an upside down, inside out course.
It is two days later and my canopy is still inside out. I haven’t even taken time to sit in it. Oh, well! Maybe tomorrow.

God Meant For Good - Gwen Mathieu

Today is Easter Sunday; a day of celebration of our Risen Lord. Without the Resurrection, there would be no point in attending church, in fact there would be no church, as we know it. It was good to go into the house of the Lord and worship Him.

Usually on the Easter weekend, we have our family here to help celebrate but because of surgery last Wednesday, I thought it best to not offer an Easter dinner. So, today was rather quiet. For lunch we had a BBQ. That is a first for Easter Sunday, but then, I didn’t have to cook.

I spent the afternoon watching an old favourite, “Joseph”. It is one story that brings tears to my eyes, when Joseph and his brothers are reunited. What an example of God’s grace and forgiveness; what Joseph’s brothers meant for harm, God meant for good.

Are things much different for us today? When things don’t go our way or we are greeted with pain and sorrow, do we ask God what we can learn from this situation or do we grumble about the injustice, the unfairness? I hope we are like Joseph. He is one of my favourite bible characters. No matter what situation he found himself in, he kept his faith and was true to his heavenly father.

I trust I can join David’s heartfelt praise in Psalm 34, “I will extol the Lord at all times; his praise will always be on my lips.”

A Critique Group? - Gwen Mathieu

Last Fall I started a writer’s critique group. We meet in the Fireside room at our church twice a month. There have been up to four Inscribe members attending along with three non-members.

A critique group has many advantages. One is a chance to build new “writer” friendships. We have a great time over a cup of coffee, laughing and kidding each other but sometimes we are brought close to tears; our emotions bounce back and forth depending on what we are listening to. Even yesterday, I became indignant with a character, in one of the stories read, for being so cruel.

Another benefit of belonging to a group is the discipline it demands. If you tend to be a sporadic writer, like I am, then a group will keep you at the keyboard. Our group spurs me on to edit a few poems and articles I started earlier, to move on with the historical novel I started over eight years ago or to come up with something fresh and just plain write.
Another asset is the encouragement we receive from each other; to hang in there and use the gift God has given us.

A real plus in belonging to a critique group is our listening skills become sharpened and our writing skills are honed. We each come with a teachable spirit and leave with more insight in the craft of writing. A lot of times, as we read aloud, we pick up on the errors before they are pointed out by others. We are challenged to write, to improve, to perfect, to learn.

So, all I can say is, join a critique group!

A Matter of Perspective - Gwen Mathieu

I just finished reading an interesting novel, The Noticer. It is a story about an old man, Jones, who notices things that other people overlook; things that are in plain sight. Jones claims people lack perspective. They don’t see the big picture.

It makes me ask myself, do I lack perspective? Do I see the half empty cup instead of the half full one? Do I dwell on the thunder and lightning and miss the rainbow. Do I begrudge all the laundry instead of being thankful I have family to serve.

Take LOL for another example. For a long time I thought it meant Lots of Love, only to find out it means Laugh out loud .I had the wrong perspective.

Back in the 60’s, I asked my father if he believed in God. His reply, “Everyone has their own utopia. The Indians have their happy hunting grounds.” That didn’t give me much of an answer back then but it got him off the hook from telling me what he believed.

It was in the early 70’s, when he had but a few months to live, that he surrendered his life to Christ. God gave him a new perspective on his need. He was waiting for someone to talk to him about his spiritual condition. His eventual passing gave him life, not death.

Paul said in Philippians 1:21 “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” Paul had a right perspective.

I pray God will give me wisdom and the right perspective, helping me to notice things that are in plain sight; things that can change my life to be more like Him.

God's Gift of Love

Christmas is the most wonderful time of year. Spending time with family, exchanging gifts, watching grandchildren perform in concerts and eating an abundance of goodies are great.

But Christmas is more than this. It is a time set aside to celebrate the birth of our Saviour and Lord, Jesus Christ; a time to remember his lowly birth; a King, born in a manger.

How often I get caught up in the busyness of preparations and forget why I am celebrating this Special Day.

It’s not about fruit cake, Christmas pudding or turkey. It’s not about Christmas lights, the prettiest tree or candy canes. I don’t have to have my house “spic and span” to enjoy this season.

It is about Love. His love for us; love so great he left His home in Glory to come to earth to redeem us and to give us a glimpse of His Father’s love.

This same Love can flow through His children. This same Love can feed the hungry, clothe the naked, wipe away a tear, visit a shut-in and give an encouraging word or cheerful smile.

This same love can hold the door open for someone, be patient while standing in line or babysit for a tired mom.

I hope this Christmas and everyday I will be an example of God’s Love.

God's Faithfulness

What a delight it was to attend our friend’s 65th wedding anniversary. The celebration not only honored them but also the faithfulness of our God.
The bible verse chosen for the occasion was Isaiah 32:17, “The work of righteousness will be peace, And the effect of righteousness, quietness and assurance forever.” This fine couple definitely exemplify a Christian being clothed in Christ’s righteousness. They have been a real blessing in our congregation and to those they come in contact with. Their children rise up and call them blessed.
Even though they lived through the war and the depression and had their share of trials and pain, they kept the faith.
Their son shared that throughout his childhood he never heard his parents argue; there was always peace in the home. I am afraid that will never be said of me. I like to state my mind even if it is in disagreement. But, perhaps when I’ve matured another 20 years, I will become more graceful.
Ken and Mary’s love for our Lord and their faithfulness in serving Him has and continues to be an inspiration to me. GM

Mundane to Significant - Gwen Mathieu

I was so blessed today after reading Violet’s blog on encouragement.

I need her words of wisdom daily - a great motto for my refrigerator. My only achievements as of late are typing and re-typing 399 recipes for our church cookbook, writing up church building committee minutes, working at our bible camp and cutting lots of grass, etc., etc. I feel like Moses, caught up with the mundane.

And then God called him to do the supernatural – moving the Israelites from the land of Egypt to the Promised land. It was a much bigger undertaking than writing an article or even a novel; definitely much bigger than writing this short blog. But I, like Moses, feel inadequate to carry out the task, putting it off until the last minute.

Oh, I read a lot; usually a book per week so all things are not mundane. I find reading and housework much easier though, than formatting an article, pasting it for the world to see and letting people know how much I don’t know.

But I will heed Violet’s advise to stay the course. To realize today is the beginning of the rest of my life to write for His glory.

And I, too, encourage you writers to keep plugging away.

Gwen

A Pillar

The house stood,
Empty,
Boarded windows,
Peeled paint, spoke
Of weathered storms.
Strong winds,
Beating,
Relentlessly.

Grandfather,
Strong, sturdy.
Withheld against harsh,
Winds of adversity.
Embraced the new,
Watched it ebb away.
Loved ones snapped like
Apples plucked from a tree.
A man of hope,
Upheld by faith.
He did not forsake his God,
When times were tough.
His parents taught him well.
He drew close to his Maker.
A pillar.

GM

Our Christmas Tree - Gwen Mathieu

A week ago, my husband, grandson and I drove to our river quarter to cut down a Christmas tree. My husband thought we should use my mother’s old artificial tree but I love the smell of the freshly cut pine. Our daughter, although still in Australia, confirmed the decision earlier, stating, “A Charlie Brown tree is better than artificial.” It took less than an hour to drive there, cut and load the tree and return home.
I chuckle when I recall the time our second oldest daughter helped me cut a tree. As I drove down a hill, I spotted the perfect one sprouting out from an embankment. We parked the truck and walked across the narrow river, dragging two saws.

To cut the tree, we had to stand on a limb and stretch. Eventually, the saw made its way through but to our dismay the tree toppled over and fell about ten feet onto the frozen ice, top first, and broke.

“Should we cut a different one,” my daughter asked.

“No, I can fix it up.”

We dragged the pieces back to the truck and threw them in. On the way, my daughter looked back at the tree. “The tree is gone!”

“Oh, no! I hope no one has picked it up.” It never occurred to me, no one would want it.

We drove back, found the bruised tree lying on the gravel road, loaded it up and drove away. We had to retrieve it one more time before making it home.

After setting the tree in its stand, duct taping the top on, pruning and decorating with lights, garland, ornaments and icicles, no one was the wiser. It was a beautiful Christmas tree. And every year, I can hardly retell the event from laughing too hard.

That tree is a lot like some of us. We come broken, bruised and damaged, out of shape and ugly; but, God takes us in His loving hands, prunes and tapes our wounds and changes us into something beautiful, fit for His kingdom. GM