When You Encounter Interruptions by Sandi Somers

Interruptions stop us...

We’re all familiar with interruptions.

They may be small interruptions: a phone call or text message or visitor at our door while we're trying to write. A friend who wants our attention when we’re busy. Someone who interjects their own opinions while we’re speaking. These interruptions can detract us from the focus/task at hand.

Interruptions may be of intermediate seriousness. This summer I was mentally drained from taking writing courses with their demands of weekly assignments, longer essays, and lots of reading. So from May to August I couldn’t write. The ideas didn’t come. Sometimes I felt I had lost four months of writing time.

However, major, life-changing interruptions out of our control can rock our world —and shatter our daily life, our hopes, and dreams.

Last year Tracy Krauss spent time in the hospital with continuing health issues, and over the year she was forced to scale back her responsibilities. “Limitations are my new realities,” she wrote.

Nina Faye Morey’s life was interrupted last year when her husband passed away. “Unfortunately, it washed away all those familiar roads in my life, leaving me to tread a lonely and solitary path through the wilderness,” she wrote.

Katie Gerke, one of our occasional bloggers, has written how MS has robbed her of most of her mobility and dreams for the future. And now in the last two months, she has been in and out of the hospital, including in ICU, dealing with various health issues (but not Covid so far). Over her years with MS, she has dealt with debilitating pain and weariness, isolation, and sometimes overwhelming sadness.

When we are interrupted, we may at first be disoriented. Bewildered. Angry. What we thought were our next plans have been halted; something or someone we love is lost with nothing to replace it, nowhere to go.

“The major problem of life is learning how to handle the costly interruptions,” wrote Martin Luther King. “The door that slams shut, the plan that got sidetracked, the marriage that failed. Or that lovely poem that didn’t get written because someone knocked on the door.”

Yet often these are God's interruptions that come from His love. They come for a purpose and plan. “My whole life I have been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted until I discovered the interruptions were my work,” Henri Nouwen wrote near the end of his life.

During this time God may bring us to a place of complete dependency on Himself, a place where he shows us his tenderness. He speaks comfort, promise of his presence and rest. "I will make the Valley of Trouble a door of hope", He says (Hosea 2:15)

I learned this summer that “to everything there is a season” (Eccl 3:1). What appeared to be an interruption to my writing was an intervention. God knew I needed time to rest, to turn my attention to other things…beside writing…working in my yard and garden, taking long walks (the outdoors always rejuvenates me), catching up on visiting family and friends when Covid restrictions eased, and relaxing with God in the early morning. Finally as August progressed, I felt writing sparks began to flicker.

Tracy discovered a door of hope as she wrote: “As God continues to give me clarity about what I am to be doing right now in this stage of my life, I cannot continue to look back and long for how it used to be.” But she adds that God still has a plan and purpose for her, “I have more books to write, grandchildren to snuggle, people to encourage, and interceding to do, but perhaps not at the same pace.” 

Nina absorbed meaningful quotes on grief and thoughts from scriptures, which she shared with us. To restore some semblance of normalcy, she began to write again, also knowing that “creative activities are positive ways to cope with negative feelings and emotions.” She also looks forward to being reunited with her husband and meeting Jesus one day. 

Katie finds God’s hidden treasures as she lives with MS. She wrote that especially in her darkest days, “God shows Himself in light, so brilliant and breathtaking that I will take it and tuck it in my heart so I can use it ‘as a lamp to my feet and a light to my path’” Psalm 119:105.

“Interruptions (are) God's appointments." Debbie Macomber

And now it’s your opportunity.  

 How can you grapple with CS Lewis’ advice: “The truth is of course that what one calls the interruptions are precisely one’s real life – the life God is sending one day by day”?

How has God shown Himself to you in these interruptions?

Has your interruption turned into an opportunity—if so, how?

Sink or Swim - Finding Passion and Purpose in the Storms by Katie Gerke

 I have lived with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) for 34 years, and I have lost the use of both legs and arms. I have lost the ability to express myself manually and have adapted to expressing myself orally. 

I have lost the ability to dance with joy, clap my hands with excitement, hug someone affectionately, throw things when frustrated, wave my arms in distress, and hold my head in my hands when I cry. 

Is your mouth a blessing or a curse? Does it help or hinder you? Is your mouth still doing the things that it was meant to do?

I have used my mouth to colorfully read to young, school children so that they may become more confident in reading and verbalizing their new language – English. Unbeknownst to me, it was viewing these same children’s art, that inspired me to start painting.

When sailing on the Glenmore Reservoir, I have used my mouth to yell STARBOARD! so the sailors, that are on a port tack, need to “follow the rules” and sail out of my way. (It’s this offensive sailing strategy that wins me races).

My mouth has been taught to save other’s lives but it neglected to try and save mine. I have used my mouth as a tool to try and take my life and four days later, I have used it to swallow my pride, and reached out to others and up to God, so that I may live my second chance at life, more abundantly.

I have used my mouth to talk to politicians about the inequities that young adults with my MS experience while navigating through the continuing care system to secure appropriate living arrangements when they can no longer live at home. My most rewarding work was when a DVD was produced called “These 4 Walls” showing me, sitting in a very, tiny room (roommate included), making comparisons between life at home and life in long-term care. 

I have used my mouth, with words of Scripture, to give comfort and encouragement to others, when my own words are not sufficient.

With my mouth I will greatly extol the LORD; in the great throng I will praise him. Psalm 109:30

I have taken up a paintbrush – between my teeth and my lips – and connect my heart, my mind and my emotions and push them down the length of a paintbrush to create something to share with others so that they may be encouraged and hopeful that through adversity there is beauty in everything coming together for good and a world that desperately needs Jesus.

With the addition of these new abilities, I will continue to convey love, lift people up, impact others positively, bear each other’s burdens, seek joy and excitement in ordinary things, push forward with my advocacy and defend those who can not speak for themselves, build leaders out of the children, and maintain my course and prevent expensive collisions. These things I can do, and I do them very well!

I hope that my art acts as a catalyst to help you to become encouraged by my testimony, transcend the trifling problems, refreshen your consciousness and become more connected to the world around you. Now, it’s time to get out of the boat!

by Katie Gerke

A Play On Words by Katie Gerke

 This My heart is stirred a noble theme

 as I recite my verses for the king; 

my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer. Psalm 45:1

I was sifting through some old file folders and came across a stack of, "Quotable Quotes", which I thought would be appropriate for this month's theme. These quotes were written in moments of grief, joy, injustice, frustration, hope, comfort, and wistfulness.

In Passing  

"I enjoyed listening to your father tell stories. He had an exquisite sense of humor that mingled through his words like delicate wisps of smoke and if one looked carefully through the tendrils, you would see a glint in his eye as brilliant as a diamond that confirmed they were in the presence of a great man." 

101% 

“Dearest Marlene, I am glad we were able to reunite after 15 years of being apart. We seem to have weathered the "test of time" rather well. Thank goodness the exam consisted of multiple-choice questions that, statistically speaking, guaranteed a degree of victory in our lives. The questions asking us to describe our life's journey at length were daunting but the bonus marks for our efforts were generously rewarded. Now, it's time to heal, plant, laugh, and dance together again! “

Colorblind

"Black is not a color. As an artist, it's only a pigment of my imagination. As a person with obvious physical limitations, black signifies darkness which can overwhelm me at any time. By God's grace, I have brilliant lights of joy, peace, and hope within me that can, with all intents and purposes, extinguish it."

In Support of a Cause

“A citizen should take significant small steps to understand each other's burdens. By removing just one stone from another's shoulders will enable them to make great strides to do the same."

 My Website's Subliminal Message  

"Oralart makes the simple, important."

 Vertically Challenged

Do you know what I can't stand?

 What can't you stand?

 That's what I can't stand. 

You can't stand what? 

That I can't stand.  

What?! 

I can't stand! I can't stand! 

If you don't explain, I am walking away. 

You do know, I can't stand?

I'm standing now and going to walk away if you can’t explain what’s up.

Obviously, not me but you can still stand it. 

Don't tell me what I can stand and not stand. 

You can do both, but I can’t.  

I can't stand this; I'm leaving now. 

Yes, you can, and you can't stand it. 

I'll see you later. 

Now, that's something I can stand doing!   

Vital Statistics 

“I have His: phone number, fax, email, website, and street address. He's next door, right around the block, just across the street, a stone's throw away, a short hike, or you can even take a rocket ship to the moon and still be within an arm's length, the diameter of the teardrop, the volume of the breath, a thread of the heartbeat, a synapse of the first waking moments, He can still be found, regardless if you're lost, just call upon Him, and He will answer. No long-distance charges will apply.”

Taking Captive My Thoughts

 “The garbage piled up high up against the chain-link fence of pristine property, I was hoping to gain access to in the years to come. However, climatic changes were against me such as wind and rain, but I guess it was ultimately my responsibility to tend to the pile daily and diligently to remove the debris to dispose of it responsibly. Where this garbage comes from can be beyond me but once it is trapped up against the fence, either on myself or the Constant Gardener's on the other side, can pluck it up nimbly and destroy it as quickly and effortlessly as a whisper lovingly spoken in the middle of the night."

He stilled the storm to a whisper; Psalm 107:29

Finally… 

“This is the type of writing that will be making me millions! I am praying to God that I can find a person who knows a person who knows a friend whose father's brother-in-law, who lives next to a family of five, who just lost their beloved and very old pet dog, who knows the veterinarian, who euthanized Sparky (finally) who knows a publisher, who brings in his one-legged macaw, irritably named, Mac, to get his wings clipped. What are the chances? I’ll stick with the first two people and the friend and the rest of the prayer will have to play itself out.”

Posture Matters! by Katie Gerke

Keep your attitude in a place that births art.

A “GET TO” attitude not a “HAVE TO” attitude.

"For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10

I have had 30 years of creatively adapting my life skills. My life with progressive MS has presented me with some harsh realities and permanent life challenges. I needed to live in the light of the opportunities and not the restrictions. Once realized, it is impossible to be given over to pride and anger.

My writing began when I was asked, by the MS Society, to give a speech to the Alberta Legislature regarding young adults living in seniors’ facilities. I was living in such a facility at the time. Now, I needed to write a speech! I was able to articulate to the Members of the Legislature, the difference between living in the facility and having the choice to live in the community. Afterward, the MS Society and I produced a CD called, “These 4 Walls”, where I sat in my tiny room reciting my speech. It became a teaching tool for the Society and other advocate groups. The speech and CD were my first pieces of art.

Aristotle said, "The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but the inward significance."

Advocating came too easily to me. I was getting involved with too many organizations, and I soon felt I was no longer making a difference. I emailed everyone and told them I could no longer participate in their organizations’ endeavors. This freed up an enormous amount of time and I was able to start advocating for clients in the facility where I lived. I adapted creatively. 

The first tool I got for writing was Dragon Naturally Speaking software. I am still training my Dragon and creatively adapting my writing. 

When I lost the use of my right hand and was unable to use a regular mouse, I got a head mouse camera and tracker dot. The tracker dot, which is stuck to the bridge of my glasses, communicates with the camera of my computer.

Along with the head mouse came the on-screen keyboard, which helps me with my mouse clicks.

I started a journal to corral my boisterous thoughts. That helped me articulate daily trends in my emotional and spiritual growth or lack thereof. Also, I would include prayers and relevant Scripture that would hearten me while I dictated some of my most painful reflections.

In later years, my writing morphed into fantastical short stories, parodies, and ruminations of the human condition.

I am still adapting to my habit of editing while I write. My compulsive behaviour will write something and after all the nitpicking is done there is nothing left on the page. 

My creativity extended beyond thoughts and emotions typed in letters of various fonts and sizes, to painting. 

Children’s art inspired me to start mouth painting. After I read to the children at a local elementary school, I would traipse the halls and become increasingly intrigued and inspired by the fantastic art the children produced. Twelve years ago I put the paintbrush in my mouth when I discovered a painting class at the facility where I live.

My creativity was stoked by experimenting with famous works of art. I found it to be a good tool in cutting my creative “teeth”. 

I started using Styrofoam, masking tape, and my wooden coffee holder to support my palate and paints. A rickety easel, which I creatively acquired from the class, precariously held my canvases. (There’s no guarantee on stolen goods.)

During each painting session, everything would slowly disintegrate and I would have to reinvent my setup while I painted. This was extremely time-consuming and frustrating. 

Eventually, after extensive research and development, I learned that these are the tools I need for a successful painting session:

Sturdy wood easel that would hold my piece of art.

Beanbags to hold the base of the easel so it wouldn’t fall forward and crack me in the head.

My yellow box contained my painting supplies and gave my easel extra height.

A heavy, black stand was engineered to hold my palate and paints, brushes, and water jar.  

Short, wooden paintbrushes, with close-cropped bristles.

As a result of my artistic endeavors, I became more well-known in the disability community and was presented with new opportunities to continue my advocacy with renewed vigor and optimism.

My advocacy, writing, and painting complemented each other throughout the years. These forms of expression have helped me to adapt and focus my energies on such things that God has laid on my heart.

God's purposes for me will come to fruition after all is said, painted, and written.

by Katie Gerke

Based on a True Story by Katie Gerke

I felt untethered from God in my heart, mind, and soul. I had frayed endings of disconnect on my evening walk.

My usual route takes me past an old trailer park with flowering window boxes, tiny lawns festooned with wood trinkets and elderly residents sitting on small porch stairs. Out front, is a weather-beaten picnic table that would collapse under the weight of the next person to sit on it, and a flagpole with a tattered and sun-bleached Canadian flag that no longer can fly. The park looks so very weary from trying to hang onto the past.

On the opposite side of the path, the earth falls steeply away and a wall of matted Bramble bushes, and shrubs of Saskatoon, Gooseberry, and rose hips cascades down and flows out into a floodplain of Poplar trees, slick green fairways, and abstract shaped sand traps.

Once at the bottom, I intersect with a bike path that circumvents the city, and train tracks that connect the country. If my timing were right, I would be able to sit in awe of powerful locomotives pulling dozens of cars, melodiously streaming meters away from my toes. I envy the permanence of all those connections. 

The landscape then opens up to reveal a wide expanse rough fescue. The sound of buzzing crickets and the wind scratching its way through the tall grass, try to soothe me as I tried to straighten out my "train" of thought. To complete the circuit, I would go back up the ridge, into a neighborhood that has lost itself between new infills and boarded-up houses. Large trees cover over the street so densely that the sun is unable to penetrate.

I have a decision to make; do I go up towards the darkness or stay in the valley of light?

God, in a pristine voice, tells me, "Stop, turn around and face to where you came from; look, seek, search, focus, and separate what already has been seen from something never seen before. God was a grand, cottonwood tree standing as big as the North was from the South, and as wide as the East was from the West. As I slowly moved away from God, my gaze fell upon a patch of prairie grass, void of growth and vitality, and a large bush grew beside it.

This bush represented my abundant growth through my harsh seasons living with MS, and my triumphs since I accepted Christ as my Savior, in 2003. The extension of deadwood that remained lovingly attached around the sphere of green looks like a crown of thorns.

Blessed is the one who perseveres under trial because, having stood the test, that person will receive the crown of life that the Lord has promised to those who love him. James 1:12

I watched my past life and the life I could have had flash before my eyes and disappear. A feeling of melancholy rolled over me in the clash of emotions of the past and present. When I lifted my eyes, I saw a telegraph pole representing the stick figure of myself collapsed onto a more steadfast pole – that of the shoulders of Jesus.

"The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become." Malan Kundera, The Unbearable Lightness of Being.

In juxtaposition, that image was Jesus carrying the cross, of my sorrow and pain, when he went through the streets of Jerusalem to Golgatha. I wept. His grace had showered me with tears. After I blinked my eyes dry, I saw an upright telegraph pole, seemingly to stand higher than all the rest. The empty cross.

After he said this, he was taken up before their very eyes, and a cloud hid him from their sight. Acts 1:9

I triumphantly ascended to the top of the ridge. On the green space, an oscillating sprinkler showered water high and over my path. As I sat under the cold and delicate mist, that fell like an ethereal curtain of diamonds, a rainbow was created, bringing down the Holy Spirit to dwell in me.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!2 Corinthians 5:17

Katie Gerke was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 1989 and ever since, significant work continues to be done in and through her regardless of the loss of ability from the neck down. Her inability to use both arms has blessed her with the ability to creatively express herself orally through painting and writing. Katie's website is oralart.ca

Hidden Treasures by Katie Gerke

This summer, I bought a zoo pass so that I could go there every few weeks to witness the changing colors of the botanical gardens as they start their journey through the summer months. At the beginning of August, my wheelchair started to become unstable and I was having difficulty driving it safely. At the same time, I started to suffer acute pain in my lower back.

By the end of August, I felt well enough to make my way to the zoo. Once there, I desperately drove around, only to realize that I missed out on the pageantry that comes when every flower is simultaneously in full bloom. 

I discovered an area of unchartered foliage nestled up against the fence that separated the zoo grounds from the public pathway. I drove one way, looking over my left shoulder, with the sun in front of me, and then I turned around, looking over my right shoulder with the sun switched to behind me. The directional change with perspective of where the sun was shining illuminated the dry foliage under large bushes. These delicate bushes looked like they were spray-painted with the most brilliant shades of copper, bronze and subtle sparkles of rose pink.

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect. Romans 12:2

As I moved along the path, still hopeful I would find a colorful bloom, I happened upon a Salvia plant. This plant stood about three feet tall with variegated leaves that had started to turn brown along the edges. Coming up from the center was a foot long stock with the tiny, cone-shaped purple flowers. That evening I found out that the name Salvia comes from the Latin salvere means: "To feel well and healthy". That was revealing.

As I peered into the withered flowers, there was a flurry of activity. There were flies, ants, bumblebees, beetles and monarch butterflies. There were all doing their little dance while they rummaged, pollinated, and harvested that season’s nectar.It was this concentrated space of activity that God showed Himself most powerful and steadfast in His love Although change is not readily accepted, albeit a broken chair and broken spirits, it is the starting of a season – to everything there is a purpose under heaven - where I need to learn new harvesting techniques to embrace these changes. 

Oswald Chambers wrote, “Let the past sleep, but let it sleep in the sweet embrace of Christ.”

Second Encounter, of an All-Powerful God

A small group of people appeared in the living room, seemingly to survey the area. Turns out the bustling of human bodies was that of the director of the building, provincial auditor and the manager of support services. They asked me if that was my painting sitting on the table. For the last 12 months, I have been working on an old truck in front of a brown barn.

I normally leave my art out on the table because my room is too small to hold all my artistic accouterments. Plus, it shows off the talent to the public.

This was the conversation:

Director: “Is this your picture?”
Me: “Yes it is. I painted that with my mouth.”
Manager: “Your mouth?! Wow, that’s amazing!"

I then found the mindset to tell the Director to go into my purse and get my business cards. 

Everyone: “Thank you, thank you very much; You’re so very talented.
We look forward to going to the Web site. Keep up the good work.”

That moment, after this brief encounter of inspiration and awe, I felt God physically yank me to Himself, like that of a firefighter pulling someone out underneath the weight of a burning car. Once the smoke cleared, sort of speak, the painkiller took affect and I drank the refreshing water of God’s grace,, He was able to show me the riches and their value that lay within me.

God encourages me through Scripture, people that I’ve met, and my daily needs. This is all well in times where I am in a good place at a good time. But when I am experiencing my darkest days of acute pain, isolation, and overwhelming sadness, God shows Himself in light, so brilliant and breathtaking that I will take it and tuck it in my heart so I can use it “as a lamp to my feet and a light to my path  Psalm 119:105. 

Treasure can always be found when the light shines in all directions.