Not Flatlined ... by Jocelyn Faire

I am like a little pencil in God’s hand. He does the writing. The pencil has nothing to do with it.
~Mother Teresa

The breathings of the heart.

For this months prompt ... I would like to share an excellent resource that was recommended to me in

my current Creative Writing course.

The book is called Writing the Mind Alive, The Proprioceptive Method for Finding your Authentic Voice, by Linda Trichter Metcalf and Tobin Simon.

I have fallen in love with this method of reflective journaling. For many of you who also journal your way through issues, this will be a resource you want in your library. Initially when my mentor suggested this method of writing, I did the google search on Proprioceptive Writing (PW) and had some reservations, thinking this sounded new agey. (And old fundamentalist habits want to steer clear of new agey.)

A lot of my own writings and journaling have been the conversations God and I have. This PW method added a steroid boost to writing the breathings of my heart. What Metcalf explains as the difference between journaling and PW is the reflective nature of the writing. The writer is instructed to ask the question—“What do I mean by ______” and then fill in the blank with what is being triggered in the writing. It is structured in a clear methodical way which includes the use of music, blank sheets of paper, a candle (this was where I thought it to be wonky). I veered from the method slightly to accommodate my musical tastes, I selected my own background music, and began with one worded song by Steve Bell—The Lorica, with lines that invite the Trinity to be present in the writing. I have been doing this for a month now, they recommend trying this five times a week, for half an hour each day ... and I must say there are times, 45 minutes passes without notice. I think because of my journal practice this deeper level of writing has been a fairly simple but exciting way that has

opened myself to hear the spirit.

If any of you have practiced PW I would love to hear from you. And if you haven't tried it, check it out ... it has been like the spring flowers to bring fresh breath into the breathings of my heart.

God said to Moses, “I AM who I AM. This is what you are to say to the Israelites: 'I AM has sent me to you.'” Exodus 3:14 NIV

From a recent writing at the end of my session:

You hold my right hand.

The longing, the aching I felt on Mother's Day as we sang

Better is one Day in your courts than thousands elsewhere.

Brittany has had ten years of one day in your court

And I have had thousands elsewhere ...

And yet, the longing to be with you, to be with her

Help me Jesus ..... I AM

You answer with I AM?

When I say help me, you say I AM

When I say walk beside me, you say I AM.

When I say Live in me, you say I AM

When I say Are you listening? You say I AM

Your name says it all, is that what you are trying to tell me? I AM

Thank you Jesus, that brings me a smile, Me too.

And when I can already hear the doubts, the unbelief question on this experience,

this feeling, and I say Help thou my unbelief, and you say I AM.

And I say Thank-You and you say ... Your welcome.

Jocelyn blogs at http://whoistalking.wordpress.com

 She is the author of Who is Talking out Of My Head, Grief as an out of Body Experience. 

Wishing for Hindsight, Ahead of Time - Jocelyn Faire

There are years that ask questions and years that answer.

Zora Neale Thurston

I scan through my 2014 journal, and think Wow—I'm still struggling with the same old issues. Also evident on the pages is the incredible tenderness of a father towards his doubt filled daughter.

Two things that impacted my year greatly: travel and doubt. My daughter and her family live overseas, they are in the tent-making business in North Africa. Given two trips, I spent almost two and a half months with her family in 2014. In dark places, I witnessed the grace, I saw the light shine from that home. Comments I heard, Everyone wants to be at her house. Oh you speak Arabic well, confirmed my experience. She also speaks love well.

I page through my journal and see entries like: Only beauty helps, and Progress is being made. Stop apologizing for the space you are taking up on the page.

Repeatedly, my journal reads ... Reign in me, let me be your vessel.

Looking back, looking ahead ... February 27, 2015 marks the 10th anniversary of the accident that claimed my son, his fiancee, and my youngest daughter. I cannot even type this without tears. I quote a centenarian who said, Some decades are hard. In many ways I feel that God is bringing that difficult decade to a close. Difficult is the ridiculous understatement. But dashed dreams, shattered lives have given rise to new hope, renewal, new stories, international God stories in the shared human experience of the deep level of  human struggle.

In December I had the privilege to partake in the gathering, the day after the death of a North African man I'd never met, but I hugged and greeted the woman whose husband had died the day before. This privilege extended because of the powerful connection that shared suffering brings. Two years earlier my daughter and I formed a bond with this lady, two months after the death of her 13 year old daughter. The girl had been struck by a taxi on her way to school and held onto life for a month before succumbing to her injuries. The parents were beside themselves in grief. We visited their home and my daughter translated my story with her, and together in that we home we shared the Rachel weeping for her children moment. That connection now permitted me to share this loss experience of her husband. The lady said to my daughter Your mother understands and came to share the sorrow. My prayers went up in that room, as my daughter held and stroked the woman, and I drank the bitter tea that was served.

Like Bobbi Junior, I too was a reluctant author, and my publishing deal was similar to Bobbi's—okay God I will write the story, but I want you to be in charge of promotions. It is not easy to share, to promote your own difficult story. Last April, I was asked to speak in my Manitoba home town. I said yes, and prepared/prayed with all due diligence. My sister picked me up from the airport and as we were driving to the event, I told her “The numbers are out of my control.” I was going to be okay, if they only had thirty people show up, I think I even said twenty, knowing full well that thirty would devastate me. We arrived early to set up and the young woman in charge of the event met me, and informed me they were setting up extra tables, they had sold out, but more people were asking for tickets. There were over 200 ladies each evening, and I was humbled to see how God spoke through my vulnerability and willingness to share my journey of grief.

Brenne' Brown

And looking ahead, I have Trust and Become as my dual themes for 2015.

Keep trusting God to overcome my doubts with His presence.

Continue to become the woman God has called me to be.

Three weeks into 2015 and I am becoming more curious to see what God is up to.

It's only when we truly know and understand that we have a limited time on earth—and that we have no way of knowing when our time is up—that we will begin to live each day to the fullest as if it was the only one we had.      Elizabeth Kübler-Ross

The travels show me God's spirit world wide, the doubts keep me searching.

Jocelyn is the author of Who is Talking Out of My Head - Grief as an Out of Body Experience.  She blogs at: http://whoistalking.wordpress.com

  

The Waiting Place by Jocelyn Faire

And I want to be Happy and Summer Carefree, but I have been in .....

The Waiting Place

According to Dr Seuss, it is a most useless place ... the waiting place where people are just waiting. The place of plea bargains, oaths to the Creator, and life priorities evaluated. But when your back is up against the wall, desperately wanting an outcome ...

The messages kept coming back as prayer requests ...

Katya's not well, she's being admitted.
It looks like endocarditis (an infection of the heart's inner lining)
Antibiotics not effective ...
Medivac'd in the night to a bigger cardiology centre ...
(They are all displaced-this is not even their home province)
Surgery scheduled, cancelled, then rescheduled ...
Twelve hours in surgery ... while they wait
Bleeding, back to the OR ...

With those texts as background, I picked up a second hand book ... Moving the Hand of God, (the book disappoints, and I argue my way through the introduction; I don't see God as Formulaic, as one who cannot see through this attempted manipulation).

My friend's life hangs in the balance. She may not know she is in the waiting place ... where is one's spirit when drugs render unconsciousness? Her daughters gathered are also in that waiting place. Waiting for good news, waiting for improvement .... waiting for the rain to stop.

This is the Waiting place. WELCOME TO THE WAITING ROOM...

Waiting feels helpless, useless.

Lamentations 3:28, 29 When Life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Bow in prayer. Don't ask questions: Wait for hope to appear.

How does one wait with hope?

Can I Trust you

Dear God

I woke with knots in my stomach ... so many questions whirling my head ...
Can I trust You with the knots?
Heavy heart over her, as life hangs in the balance ... machines breathe for her
Can I trust you with that?
Life not being what I or they thought it should be or would be.....
Can I trust you with the future?
Despair and doubt want to hinder any Bold prayer
Can I trust you with that?

... ...

Even as I speak these words, I KNOW without a doubt, I have no one else that I could trust these things to, so why do I hold back God?

Can I trust you with that?




And your answer is a Resounding—YES YES YES!

I stretch lame hands of faith and grope,
And gather dust and chaff and call
To what I feel is Lord of all,
And faintly trust the larger hope.
Alfred Lord Tennyson

I have had the privilege in the past three weeks to rejoice with those who rejoice(wedding), and to mourn and pray with those who mourn. Between an unexpected trip to visit a treasured friend in a cardiac ICU and a planned wedding trip, my day to post has arrived. This is a repeat of my July first, at http://whoistalking.wordpress.com, if you do not follow my blog, this is an invite to take a look at it.

While the waiting place is one of the difficult rooms entered into in the writing process, in comparison with the ICU waiting room, it's a party room. I have gained a new perspective in my being present in the moments that come.