Technology by Lorilee Guenter

Mister Bert's Adventure by Lorilee Guenter

Technology offers many tools for writers and authors. I find it has many drawbacks as well. I choose between them based on a number of criteria, mostly though it comes down to preference. I prefer analog for some tasks, and I prefer digital for some tasks. Some things require technology.

I write 99% of my first draft long hand, including this post. The weight of the pen in hand and the sound of the nib travelling across the page are sensory details I don't want to give up. They tell my brain it's time to write. I also keep a journal, a prayer journal, and a travel journal. My travel journal is written from two points of view. I write my thoughts then I print an "Adventures Log" from the point of view of a small stuffed koala called Mister Bert. In this way my journal is both a record and a story prompt.

Subsequent drafts of writing are typed, printed and revised longhand. I just don't like staring at a screen for hours. I will edit small pieces without reprinting them but the majority of my work gets printed for revision and for a hard copy reference. 

Technology offers many tools for artists. I have scrapbooked parts of our family traditions, travels, and general life. Most often I used digital tools to create the pages, then print some of them. The key reason I create a scrapbook page is to tell the story with words and images. As long as they are accessible by family they can count as finished in digital form. I would like to print more of them so we can hold the books in hand, but for now I'm happy having them done

For my other art, I need physical tools: pens, pencils, and paint. I use a variety of materials as my base such as: wood, paper, tea bags, and canvases. There's no digital replacement for the art I create.

Digital or analog, I find a place for the tools offered by both mediums. Digital is easier to share. Analog gives tactile feedback. I don't want to pick just one. 

Lorilee Guenter is a Saskatoon, SK based writer and artist. She bridges the gap between Digital and analog technologies by using both. She writes a Substack each Friday.

By Lorilee Guenter

 

Photo by Lorilee Guenter;
Grasslands National Park

In the Psalms we often read a mix of lament and praise. David and others often cry out to God in difficult times. How long oh God, how long will you forsake me? How long must I face this alone? Even as they cry out, their words show they know they are not really alone. They just feel alone.

In Psalm 13:2 David cries, "how long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?" By the end of the song, he will sing the Lord's praise, "for he has been good to me." There's no evidence in this psalm that David's situation has changed yet he trusts.

I wrestle with my thoughts. I cry out, "why Lord why do I have to face betrayal by my own mind, my own body? You created me in reverence with wonderful complexity (Psalm 139) so I can serve you, love you and glorify you. How Lord? How do I do that with a traitorous brain?"

I trust because I know in the depths of who I am, the place the Holy Spirit speaks, I know I am not walking this path alone. I know, but my traitorous humanity tries to convince me that my trust is misplaced. It calls me to turn away, to turn back. It councils me to trust only what I can see.

Like David, I'm learning not to stop at "how long?" But move through to, "even so I trust." I still sit with unchanged circumstances, my body falters, my brain betrays me. Even so I trust.

God is with me in the desert. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert after his baptism. He walked with the Israelites through the wilderness, leading them and teaching them. He walks with me, with us, even in the desert places. He is with us in the wilderness.

How long oh Lord, must I feel dry, ideas withered, stillborn? Challenging me to hide with sorrow for myself and for others. How long Lord, until I learned this lesson and can move on? And yet I trust. The answers don't come and yet I trust because I know I don't walk alone. I trust because the only one who can perfectly keep his promises, says he will be with me. And so in the middle of the storm, I will sing his praises as I trust. The Holy Spirit will walk this road with me.

Lorilee Guenter is a Saskatoon based artist and writer. Her writing stems from the many questions she finds herself pondering and from the things she observes on her wanderings. One such question is how did events she lived through become the subject of history. More of her writing can be found on her Substack.       

                                                                                                                   

Ten Things by Lorilee Guenter

image credit: Lorilee Guenter

September is a time to reflect on the year to date. When the girls were in school, September had more sway on our schedule and intentions then January. Now I can choose any month I want for reflection, kind of. Most classes and activities start September and January. 

This season I will/will not...

1) I will not let my activity level define my success. Sometimes being is more valuable that doing. I will take time to pause, it is good for health, especially mental health. God instructs us to pause, to rest so he can refresh us.

2) I will continue to write regularly. Every Tuesday afternoon for a couple of years I have had a writing date at a local coffee shop. Winter 2026, I stood myself up for a few months. I missed it. This summer, I had a writing partner. It's easier to keep a commitment when there are two of you. For the next year I may have a new partner, or I may have to go alone. Either way, I'm committing to myself to write regularly (and enjoying a coffee while I work). 

3) I won't let numbers define me. Metrics can consume us if we let them. The number of subscribers, likes, and comments, threatened to overwhelm and push us to do more and be more. Weight, calories consumed, calories burned, and clothes sizes can likewise shame us. 

4) I'll be teaching Sunday school again. The grade five six students often challenge me with their questions. If I arrive unprepared, they know it. Therefore, this is not a few hours on Sunday commitment. It is the time with God, time with curriculum, and time with young people who are curious, questioning and amazing to hang out with. I am looking forward to this time for the coming year. 

5) I will not leave everything for the last minute. I've been a procrastinator, working to deadlines for decades. Nothing spurs inspiration quite like a deadline. After years of waiting for the week, or day before deadline, I found many excuses to keep me scrambling. To change means relearning habits. But change needs to happen sometimes and this is one of those times. 

6) I will work to reshape my workspace and my workflow. Our house has gone from three occupants to two for the next year. Since we are living in a period of transition anyway, it seems like a good time to start adjusting what hasn't worked well. 

7) I will not overeat sweets and unhealthy snacks. Better said, "I will treat my body well by eating a healthy healthy, balanced way." Eating in a healthy balanced way challenges me to try new things. This year I've already learned that I can make the much maligned brussels sprouts in ways I enjoy. 

8) I won't be hard on myself when I fail. This might be the hardest item on the list so far. We live in a society that can be quick to judge. I've been judging myself and finding flaws for decades. We are all imperfect, works in progress. (Philippians 1:6) but we aren't condemned (John 3:17). Why then do I condemn myself? 

9) I will take necessary next steps to bring my novel from hiding on the shelf to shareable. On my "brain dump" tasks list, my novel next step has carried forward each month since April 2024. Each month I found excuses, sometimes wrapped up as "good reasons," to postpone action. This August I took one small step. I'm committed to taking another step this September. 

10) I will throw out this list if it starts to be a weight that keeps me immobilised. Sometimes lists help. Sometimes they hold us back. I don't want any list to get in the way of what God wants to do with and through me in the coming months. 

Ten things, four months, and beyond. I could add don't stress, set goals (that might cause stress), laugh, explore, be flexible. Laugh, enjoy, be flexible will keep the enjoyment in whatever comes that I can't foresee. 

Lorilee Guenter is a Saskatoon based artist and writer. Her writing stems from the many questions she finds herself pondering and from the things she observes on her wanderings. One such question is how did events she lived through become the subject of history.

Balance or Rhythm by Lorilee Guenter

"By The Book" photo by Bruce Guenter

Balance is a myth created to keep me from embracing the rhythms of life . Ecclesiastes 3:1 opens with "there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under the heavens." The list of opposites brings to mind the old playground teeter-totter. If the opposing individuals were similar weight, it was possible to get the teeter-totter to balance as a straight beam. More often the partners couldn't hold the balance due to weight differences. One partner would be pushed up while the other dropped down. The goal of a teeter-totter is to keep it in motion. The achievement of balance halted motion.

Instead of chasing balance, I'm working to create movement, and rhythm. Sometimes the movement is rapid, other times it is a languid motion that takes attention to recognize, like the slow movement through winter. We mark time through seasons, through months, weeks, and days. In some places it may seem like the entire range of weather happens at once. We hear the saying: All four seasons in one week, or one day," yet even during these times we're not experiencing January and July simultaneously. It is either January or it is July.

There's a time and a season for every activity. We are tearing down or we are building up (v.3); we are silent or we are speaking (v.7). If we talk strictly about balance, it lends itself to an absurd reference to ratios. If we speak 50% of the time we should be silent 50% of the time, just like January and July each have 31 days. They hold equal weight within the year. What happens when God calls us to speak up, or write, and we've already used up our 50% of speech for the week? What if a friend, neighbour, or acquaintance needs us to just listen instead of us interjecting our own thoughts. I recognize I've taken these on these to an extreme. No one expects us to count the minutes we speak versus those we are silent. No one tries to live January and July in alternating days. Instead I am learning to lean into a rhythm of seasons. With a rhythm I progress through alternating activity, emotion, responsibility, hopes, and dreams, each in their own time. I learn to give them the space they need. Sometimes I walk through them in a straight line. Sometimes, like with the weather, it seems like they all happen in a day. There is no prescribed timeline. There's movement. If the season of grief is heavy, like the larger teeter-totter partner, it may take extra time to get to the dancing (v.4). The encouragement in these verses is that the dancing will come. Seasons change, in life as with the weather.

As I walk through this life I have been given, I'm learning to recognize my rhythms. They may not be the same rhythm as what God has given you, but he is walking with both of us. Ecclesiastes 3:11a "he has made everything beautiful in its time." Everything is known by God. Everything has a season, even when I can't see it. In the middle of the tears I want laughter because I don't like to cry. I can take courage from the fact the tears won't last. They have their season. I'm thankful that God knows what we need each season, each activity, and each day.

My writing seasons, my organizing seasons, my gardening seasons, and my life seasons all have a rhythm. Sometimes I notice them and sometimes I don't. My life season is in transition. The girls are adults and now need a different type of energy and presence from me than they did while growing up. My writing, my hobbies, and my studies no longer need to occupy the margins of life. Whether in the margins or not, my writing has times of reflection and times of action. Sometimes I want to linger in reflection even when God is calling me to the action of putting words on the page. Sometimes I want to rush ahead. I continue to learn that whether I'm laughing or crying, reflecting or writing, God is in the season with me. He is leading me from shadow to light. No matter the season, I can be confident of His presence and His leading.

Lorilee Guenter enjoys gardening, reading and more. During the summer, her and her husband Bruce often hit the nearby trails. He carries a camera. She carries a sketchbook.

First Book? by Lorilee Guenter

 

This month we were asked to consider our first book. The book that I am stalling on sending to an editor immediately came to mind. I have received feedback on it, and I've almost finished reworking the awkward sections. I have read it aloud to myself so I could identify jarring sentences and disjointed thoughts. But then I stopped mere chapters before I finished this revision. In doing so, I have a reason that keeps me from contacting an editor. The novel is not finished.

The more I thought about the question, the more I found myself reconsidering what a first book might be. Indeed there are other "books." None of them are cohesive enough to continue revising, for now. I may return to the ideas and characters at some time in the future. It would require a major rewrite to get them into a polished form. But they are still books, hidden on my shelf. They have structure and character.

I contemplate further and remember my first time participating in NaNoWriMo (national novel writing month). It was November 2014 . I wrote 50,000 words as I followed a main character. Is it a book when the best next step is to chop it into the start of a few short stories? Maybe. Would I want anyone to read it in its current form? Absolutely not! Do I want to reread it for any gems hidden inside? Not at this time.

Then I considered the novels I have in various stages of completion, the reflections I have been encouraged to gather into a book and various short stories hidden on my computer (or on scraps of paper) one of them must be the first book. Then I remembered I started writing an outline for a mystery near the end of grade 8. I was making notes on setting and character. I did not have or take opportunity to put flesh on the story. We moved. It got stored with school papers and other things we didn't have room for in our much smaller home. Mice moved into the storage container, and my story became material for a mouse nest. Perhaps it is for the best. I've learned a lot about crafting a story in the decades since then.

So far my first book is unpublished. If these early attempts count, my first book will never be published. However, I may yet publish something. It might be a novel, or it might be one of the collections I've been encouraged to consider. In the meantime I'll keep writing. I have to. It is one of the ways I process everything I am currently learning. It is one of the ways I process my place in God's larger story. While I may not know what my first book is, there is no uncertainty about God's story.

Lorilee Guenter enjoys gardening, reading and more. During the summer, her and her husband often hit the trails at nearby parks. He carries a camera. She carries a sketchbook. She never thought she'd write a book. 

A Caretaker and an Ambassador by Lorilee Guenter

After a winter that seemed like it would never end, the temperatures have soared. Yards are greening up. Fruit trees are covered in a profusion of blooms. Greenhouses display flowers in every colour you can imagine. Some flowers there await the gardeners creative touch in combining them. Others fill hanging baskets and planters of all shapes and sizes.

I have been working in my yard and garden for 25 years. It continues to change and evolve. I continue to learn. The process reminds me that a lot of time, skill and care is required to create those prepared arrangements.

I have been writing for less than 25 years, except for my journals. Like my garden, my writing continues to change and evolve.  Polishing pieces into interesting poems, stories and essays takes time, skill and care.

I continue to work to learn my craft by reading, writing and attending workshops. Like Bezalel and Oholiab in Exodus 35:30-35, others have been given the ability to teach. I benefit from them sharing their skill, wisdom and knowledge.

I participate, with God, in creating beauty in my yard with and oft critical eye. I need to pause and remind myself that it is not meant to be an ongoing to-do list. It is meant to be a place I can observe a small slice of God's amazing, varied, intricate creation. He causes the flowers to bloom in their time. He has invited me in as a caretaker of this particular piece of creation.

I participate in sharing a slice of God's story, His amazing, intricate, complex story. Sometimes in my writing I become focused on what isn't finished. Here again, I am learning to pause and reflect. My words teach me as I process the wonder of the world around me. Others inform me as I contemplate the words God called them to share.

When I put down my pen, and share my writing, I trust God will cause those words to bloom. He is in control of the time and the place they grow. I am invited in as an ambassador of His story of everlasting love, mercy and grace. 

Lorilee Guenter enjoys gardening, reading and more. During the summer, her and her husband often hit the trails at nearby parks. He carries a camera. She carries a sketchbook.

My Inconsistent Journal by Lorilee Guenter

 

It started with a simple notebook and a pen. The earliest I remember consistently writing in a journal was summer of 1986. I had the opportunity to travel with my grandparents, youngest aunt, and sister to Expo 86 in Vancouver. That journal holds observations and reflections of the trip. Over the years I have been an inconsistent journaller. I am most consistent at recording my observations and reflections while travelling.

Over the years, my journals have evolved, and some might say devolved. Lately when I pick up my journal it is a time of reflection. It is a time of asking questions and listening. I have said, "God meets me on the page." This is especially true when I don't follow a rigid journal structure. I write without agenda or time frame. I pause knowing God will show me what I need, when I need it. I pour out my heart, my questions, my concerns, my fears and my excitement in a raw unfiltered manner. Those journals are for my eyes only.

I have at times kept a gratitude journal. When I open those pages, I am remembering and counting my blessings. It is a time of slowing and noticing. It is a time of reflecting and watching my perspective change from grumbling to thanksgiving.

I have had seasons where I journal my prayers. I tried morning pages. I have a book of random quotes. No one style of journaling has been a consistent routine in my day. Even with gaps, I find I always return to my journal, whether it is fancy or plain, to record, reflect and ponder. I expect I always will. The style I use is what I need at the time.

Lorilee Guenter is an inconsistent journal keeper who enjoys learning. She can be found in the garden, with a book, or hiking and exploring nature with her husband. She is facing her fears by taking her stories beyond the journal page and releasing them from captivity.

Reuse, Rethink, Recycle by Lorilee Guenter

 

The blank page stares at me, taunting me. It mocks my ability to write something new, something worth my time to write, and your time to read. I'd like to claim this is an isolated occurrence and normally words flow off the end of my pen as a river flows across the land. Sometimes they do but more often I jot a sentence here and another there. I pause to consider the words. I scratch out half or more of what is on the page and wonder if the taunting is accurate.

We read in Ecclesiastes 1: 9-10, "What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one can say, "Look! This is something new?" It was here before already, long ago, it was here before our time."

There is nothing new, so I can put my pen down in discouragement knowing the doubts and questions are correct. It would be easy enough to do. Except it isn't easy. I get restless when I am not creating in some way. I get grouchy and hard to live with.

There is nothing new, so I can put down the pressure. My thoughts have been thought, and my curiosities have been considered by others. However, these ones are mine and they have value to me if not to others. I have permission to consider, to process and to create from my place in time and space.

Because nothing is new under the sun, I can reuse my writing. I have heard others talk about re-purposing writing. I have read collections where authors put together a best of collection or a themed collection of their work. I did not consider this for myself until a comment I received about my A to Z blog posts. Now I am in the process of refining them based on what I have learned over the two years I wrote them. In this case, the blog commentators have helped by highlighting the words, phrases and sections that had impact. I am using the comments to hopefully strengthen each piece before I reuse it.

Because nothing is new under the sun, I can give myself permission to adjust my previous writing. Through revision I can re-imagine and rework a speech into an essay. Essays can become the seed of a story. I understand the theory behind this. In reality, I find it difficult to rethink writing from one format to another. The first format was chosen for a reason. There are times I have reworked a story from one format to another that is stronger.

Reuse, rethink, recycle. My favorite of the three is recycle. When I am revising my work, I often find sentences or paragraphs I do not want to get rid of. Yet I know they do not belong in the piece I am working on. If it doesn't fit, it needs to go. It goes into a snippets file. I have a snippets folder on my computer and I have a stack of scrap paper with phrase, fragments and ideas. None of these have found their home yet. Some of the fodder in folder of recycled snippets will never find a home. These files, both paper and digital, are one of the tools I turn to when I am stuck in my writing. As I read through the random words, new ideas begin to form. 

Since everything has already been done, I have permission to play with the words, ideas, curiosities and experiences that God has given me. It all has value when it comes from Him and not from my independent toil. The pressure is gone and the taunting voices silenced by God, the source of my ideas and curiosities.

Lorilee Guenter lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She likes to experiment with plants, paint and words. Curiosity and creativity lead to many unexpected endeavors.

 

Seasons by Lorilee Guenter

 

Winter, spring, summer, fall. 

Which is your favourite season? I do not have an answer to that question. Each season has its draws and its drawbacks. But how can you like {season}? The chosen season to hate on is usually winter with its bone-chilling cold.

I like the crisp, clear days where the air sparkles with tiny, suspended drops of moisture. I enjoy brewing a mug of tea or hot chocolate, grabbing a blanket, and experiencing the quiet that cold seems to produce. I recognise the period of dormancy nature undergoes during winter. In time, unseen life will make its presence known.

I enjoy spring where each day brings something new as the white turns to muddy brown, then one by one plants push through until the whole palette is visible. Just as an artist places one brush stroke and then another, God wakes up the plants in order.

Summer shines with its long days of abundance. Some days it seems like you can see the plants grow as they stretch and bloom. I wander through my yard almost daily and delight in the changes.

Autumn brings crumbly leaves that I must step on to hear the satisfying crunch.  Trees take on vibrant hues as the flowers fade. A new coolness brings a reprieve from the heat. Vegetable soups simmer in place of summer salads.

While I have learned to enjoy all of the seasons, the lessons learned have not transferred to my writing life. Seasons of dormancy frustrate me. Intellectually I know this is a time of pondering. The ideas simmer beneath the surface waiting for the appropriate time to sprout. The seasons of abundance leave me scrambling as I try to bring my thoughts into order. I find myself longing for a slower pace. How quickly the frustration of the drought disappears. 

During summer, my writing slows. I am pulled outside by many activities. This year, I am trying to embrace the change. I trust the experiences will give rise to a new season of wordplay. It always does. And why wouldn't it? God has always been faithful not matter the season. He won't change now.

This summer I am attempting to embrace the season of rest in my creative life. I am choosing to let God refresh my soul. The writing continues at a slow pace. In between, I savour the tart juice of a raspberry just plucked from a plant. I pause to listen to the birdsong. I smile in gratitude at God's creation. Come fall I expect to pick up my pen with more frequency as God stirs the well of ideas and breathes life into new works. It is His way, for me at least.

I would like to look at my creative seasons as I do the created seasons. Each has a purpose. Each year I am able to reflect a little more and in doing so, I recognise God's hand in each moment. They are gifts from Him. In His hands, I flourish in a healthy, sustainable way.

Lorilee Guenter lives in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She likes to experiment with plants, paint and words. Curiosity and creativity lead to many unexpected endeavors.

Always Exploring by Lorilee Guenter

 

The guidebook sits open on my table. I mark places on a map, make notes, and dream of what I will experience. The list of opportunities grows. I sit and consider my options.

My notebook lays open, waiting for words. The ideas come in bits and bobs. Will it be a poem, a short story, an essay or something else? A dictionary sits nearby accompanied by a thesaurus in case I need to locate a missing word. The opportunities are many, the time is short.

In life and in writing, I am an explorer. I study and plan, then at some point I toss the plans and jump in. I have tried to stick to just one thing among the many available options. It does not work. I have preferred vacation destinations and writing styles. However, I also have a deep desire to try different things.

My curiosity has led me to declare that I am allergic to boredom. This unfortunately has led to many unfinished projects. I tried them. Some I didn't enjoy them enough to complete them. Others I started but before I finished them I was enticed by new opportunities. Is this a character flaw to be overcome or is it a character trait I need to recognise and work with?

In a world of specialists, the generalist stands out. For years I chaffed at the advice to pick a niche and excel at it. It reminds me of the advice when travelling rough rural roads: choose your rut wisely, you'll be in it for miles. I don't want to find myself in a rut that saps the vibrancy from life. Therefore, I remain a generalist. In doing so, I remain curious and engaged in a variety of activities.

Last month I wrote about my varied reading habits and how they spill over into my writing. When I read this month's theme, my first thought was: I can't write to that? What style can I research and try? Instead of trying another new thing this month, I rebelled. Instead, I paused to consider what I have learned as I've tried various styles and genres over the years.

Lesson 1: Some things will be junk. They belong in the recycle bin. This does not mean they were a failure. They were opportunities to experiment and learn. Take the lessons learned and let the rest go. I have found that a favourite line or character may get recycled into another piece of writing where they work better.

Lesson 2: Some styles are hard. This could mean it is not an appropriate style for me (or you) at this time. I never rule out returning to try again. I would love to write a mystery. I have three attempts started. Each of them was abandoned because of difficulties I don't have the ability (or inclination) to overcome at this time. I reserve the right to return to them at anytime.

Lesson 3: Sometimes I am compelled to write in a style I do not enjoy. When God prompts, it is good to trust and follow His leading. I fought with the repeated claim, "I don't write memoir." The more I fought, the more I had creative block. Once I said yes, the ideas returned and the words flowed.

Lesson 4: All writing helps improve skill. Sometimes I "warm up" my writing muscles with short exercises in different styles and genres. Poetry is a great change of pace while I work on a novel. It forces me to consider the picture my words are drawing for the reader. 

Lesson 5: As with everything in life, God is the source of all that is good. When I partner with Him, I will learn the lesson He is teaching me. I will know when to push through obstacles and when to put a piece away temporarily or permanently. He is editing my life as He informs my thoughts and helps me hone my skills. If I try to do things on my own, I fail.

Lorilee Guenter is a Saskatoon based artist and writer. Her writing stems from the many questions she finds herself pondering and from the things she observes on her wanderings. She believes both her curiosity and her creativity are gifts from God.

Reflections on Reading and Writing by Lorilee Guenter

 I am a voracious reader. I crack open a book and step through the door to another place, another time. Each book offers a chance to peak through the window into another person's life. I begin each year with a plan to keep a record of the books I read. I envision ending the year with a list of titles I've read, and authors I spent time with. I expect this list to remind me of the characters who entertained me, and the thinkers who made me consider a variety of ideas. Like many good resolutions, this one falls.

I read to be informed and to learn. I am actively reading at least one non-fiction book, maybe more at any given time. My e-reader currently has half a dozen titles in various stages of completion. Sometimes the books all relate to a topic I am researching. Other times biographies and autobiographies are found in my reading pile. This month none of the books I'm reading (physical or electronic) are biographical, which is unusual. I especially enjoy reading the published journals, letters, or biographies of authors and creators.

I read to be entertained. Some of the earliest books I read, remain favourites. I suspect it is because they opened up new worlds of imagination. The first book I signed out of the school library was "Charlotte's Web." Other early favourites include "Winnie the Pooh" and "Anne of Green Gables." Over the years many other characters and books have joined these three as favourites. There are now too many to list.

Sometimes I pick up a book by a new to me author and enjoy it so much that I hunt down everything I can find by them. Other times I pick up a book and set it aside after a few pages. (Confession: This rarely happens since even writing I don't enjoy is useful if I can determine what I dislike. My writing becomes stronger because of what I learn from other styles.) 

A few years ago I would say "I read anything except romance and horror." Then Dad challenged me to write a romantic suspense. Since I don't think it is possible to write a good book in a genre you don't read, I went to the library and signed out a stack of romance books. Some I enjoyed. Some I thought, "yeah right, like that's realistic." As someone who reads fantasy and science fiction, it might seem contradictory to critique a book as unrealistic. However, each genre has its own expectations and in my opinion there should be enough realism in romantic suspense that the reader is willing to enter the story. I have taken Dad's challenge and written a draft of a romantic suspense. It will take much revision and editing before I'm convinced it meets the realism test. I think I can still safely say I don't read horror, although that might be because no one has issued a challenge regarding horror and offered recommendations.

While I always have at least one book I am reading, I write in fits and starts. Sometimes the words spill from my pen. It is as if I am compelled to sit and think through the tip of my pen. Other times I seem to find any and every excuse to leave the pen undisturbed on the desk. I don't know why. I get agitated during these times because I should be writing. I should be creating not just consuming. The 'shoulds' throw up one block and then another until the tower of bricks topples for lack of a strong foundation. Excuses that began as good reasons are washed away. Then one idea leads to another. The time of contemplation and silent processing comes to an end. 

I begin to pick up my pen. I pause. I am learning to embrace the pause and trust the Holy Spirit will guide my words when I am ready for them. Until then, I read, I visit with friends and family, I garden and I wait. I try not to let agitation invade this time of waiting. I am learning, but I am not there yet. Too often I still run on ahead, only to crash into the tower of excuses. Perhaps one day I will recognise the healthy rhythm God is trying to teach me.

Lorilee Guenter is a Saskatoon based artist and writer. Her writing stems from the many questions she finds herself pondering and from the things she observes on her wanderings. One such question is how did events she lived through become the subject of history.

The three R's by Lorilee Guenter

Write, revise, release. Most of the time, I have little trouble with the first R: write. If the idea is present, I can pick up my pen and spill ink across the page as I meet characters. I play with connections and clarify thoughts for essay or meditations. Sometimes the writing is only worthy of my journal page. Other times the stories and essays are worth another look.

Revise, revise, revise, there are days this feels like a bad word. It is the punishment for rambling. Other days I embrace it. Revision becomes a chance to consider the lessons held on the page. I learn more about the characters as I look at the gaps in the story. I see the teaching God is doing as He brings seemingly disparate ideas together in an essay. Revision in a way becomes an opportunity to relearn as I refine.

The time I spend refining a piece of writing varies. My longer stories have been through many revisions. They have had a few readers but mainly reside on my computer. Only one novel length story has been handed off to trusted early readers. I know the comments and critique from these readers is valuable for improving my writing. They ask good questions. They point out awkward passages and gaps in the story. I return to revision and in spite of the most recent feedback, refrain from releasing it.

I scrutinise and revise my shorter pieces as well. Nothing is released without revision. I find that the short pieces cycle through the revision stage fewer times. It is easier to hold the whole in mind as I consider the chosen word over a possible substitute. I also find it easier to catch gaps and repetition when the piece can be read in a single sitting. Even so, these are usually examined many times.

The hardest of the three steps is release. I want to release well written, well edited writing. I strive to improve my skills and thereby improve the readability of each story and essay. Since there is always room for improvement, there is always a reason to scrutinise each piece one more time before I release it. I have learned to overcome this hurdle and release some of my small articles, poems and stories. I have yet to release a longer story into the wild. I am once again revising the novel that is closest to its release. I don't know how many times I have looked at it. Some of the chapters are at the point where I add a word I removed on the previous read through or vice versa. Still I subject the story to another read.

As I stumble with releasing my story, the product of my imagination, I am reminded that God didn't give me a spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7). Holding on to writing that needs outside eyes for improvement is not an act of courage but of fear. Likewise hoarding stories that are ready to send to an editor and then following through to publishing them, is steeped in some amount of fear. There are many "what ifs" that can stand in the way of taking the next steps. However, at some point the next step is not further revision. Instead, it is trusting that God will take the words where He wants them to go. Sitting on my shelf unread, they are a weight. Released, they may encourage, entertain or challenge others.

I think it is time for me to move from revision to release on at least one project. There are more stories waiting for the refining process and still more to be written. Hopefully you'll join me by taking the next step with your writing, whatever that step might be. 

I'm looking forward to a fourth stage: respond. I know if I take a step of courage the next step will become closer and closer.

Lorilee Guenter has moved from only writing in her journal to sharing small pieces of writing with the world. Now she is preparing to move from "just one more revision" to receiving a professional edit of her story. It's the next step.

Place Matters by Lorilee Guenter

 Psalm 18:19 He brought me into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.

I sat in a boat surrounded by water and sky. The clear water allowed us to watch the fish swim by suspended between air and sand. In the distance, we could see the curve of land where beach gave way to forest.

I drove a prairie road. Golden fields, sun kissed by the setting sun, rolled across the horizon. The highway created a dark ribbon tying them together as far as I could see.

I sit in a coffee shop surrounded by a hum of background noise. Outside the window, a snow covered field sparkles as it reflects the sun. A plane takes off casting a shadow as it briefly blocks the sun.

Spacious places, as a prairie girl, are a familiar landscape for me. Some people feel claustrophobic if they move from these wide open locations to more confined places. Mountains, forests, cities are a few of the more enclosed landscapes I think of. Even tighter spaces are subways, airplanes or elevators. Yet even these have enough room for their purpose.

Psalm 18:19 tells us "God brought me into a spacious place." One of the definitions of spacious in my dictionary is: affording ample room. God put me in a place with enough, and more than enough room. He knows what I need. Sometimes that is sitting in a boat watching fish swim by. Other times it is winding my way around trees through a forest. I can be surrounded by people or by nature and remain confident that God is present. He is a constant in every location I find myself in. Because of his presence, even the smallest of places becomes spacious - it contains ample room. 

Wherever I find myself, whether in a landscape that blends into the sky or among buildings so tall they seem to block out the sun, I seek to recognise God's presence. It is my spacious place. 

Lorilee Guenter is a writer and artist from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She enjoys exploring God's creation. Her hobbies and interests are varied which leads to an eclectic set of books she is reading.

What Does Your Heart Say? by Lorilee Guenter

Across from me in the coffee shop sat a lady. Her sweater read, "I wear my heart on my sleeve." On the sleeve a list of names represents people important to her. Without talking to her, I don't know who they are. I only know that these are people who mean a lot to her. She loves them.

I wonder what others see when they look at me. I don't proclaim my affection on my clothes. Do my actions as I sit across from family or friends show they are important to me? My words are a clanging gong if they are not backed up by action. I do not want to be a clanging gong. I want to be a voice in the symphony God is directing.

As summer gave way to fall, I noticed distraction pulling my attention. Instead of leaning in to engage in conversation, I was looking beyond. I was leaning back and letting my thoughts wander. I missed out on true connection. Communication became strained as I forgot how to listen not just with my ears but with my heart. I became a clanging gong.

Noticing my responsibility in the disconnect, I lean back in. I confess that I do not like what was going on. I don't want my distraction to turn my words into discordant noise so I allow God to tune me, to bring me back to where He desires me. I pause to listen. I vowed, with God's help, to set aside distraction. I can not do this on my own. Thankfully I don't have to. The Master Conductor knows what I need so I can sing.

Jesus wore His heart on the cross. As thorns pierced His brow and blood and water ran from His side, He wrote my name. He wrote our names. They aren't written with pencil to be erased. They aren't written with thread that can be picked out. Jesus wrote our names with His life. In doing so, He offered to guard our hearts. He knows that even if we try, we are incapable of consistent vigilance without His help. He knows we need His hand in all we do.

The seasons change, my resolve to connect well is tested. I know the only way it will hold is by leaning in. Today, I choose to trust, to let Jesus hold me close and make my heart sing as part of His masterpiece. Tomorrow, I pray I make the same choice.

Lorilee Guenter is a writer and artist from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She enjoys exploring God's creation. Her hobbies and interests are varied which leads to an eclectic set of books she is reading.

The Posture of My Hands by Lorilee Guenter

I hold my hand open, fingers straight, palm flat facing the sky. It remains empty as items placed upon it roll off. Burdens that are not mine to carry are released since my hands, when open, won't hold them. Likewise, distractions and temptations that threaten to overwhelm and drag me down are released. They are not allowed to drown me. The weight disappears with hands wide open.

With empty hands, I begin to curl my fingers until my hands resemble a bowl to be filled. God is waiting to fill these open hands. He lavishes compassion, grace and everlasting love on those who trust Him. To lavish is to fill to overflowing. It is extravagant giving. Ephesians 1:7-8 tell of God's forgiveness and riches of the grace He lavishes on us. From there we receive the gift of His wisdom and understanding that makes His will and good pleasure known to us. 1 John 3:1 lets us know the Father has lavished His great love on us. We are filled to overflowing with God's gifts when we hold our hands cupped and waiting.

My open hands are filled beyond what they can hold. God's rich grace and great love spill over the sides. Through my pen, they fall as words on a page enabling others to experience the same gifts. When readers open their hands in trust, trickles turn to floods. God's glory is seen and heard not because of us, but because He spills out more than anyone can hold. He spills out in words and actions that touch us and those around us. We are not meant to hold it all. Our cupped hands are no match for God's extravagance.

I'm tempted to close my hands around this flood. I want to hold on, but that is not a posture of trust. The more I trust, the more I am able to hold these gifts loosely knowing God will continue to pour them out, filling me and filling His people.

God's extravagant love includes discipline. I don't like discipline, nor do I like the storms of life that come from living in a broken world. Still I can trust. God is in the storm. He puts limits on the trouble [Job 17]. He oversees the discipline. They are different but many times look the same. My hands closes as I hold on to the promise of God's presence. I am still surrounded by His extravagant, unending love. I am still being taught through His wisdom that brings understanding. 

I have two hands with three postures: hand open wide, fingers curled to form a bowl, and hand clasped tight, holding firm. Each posture has its place and purpose in my life. I strive to use each posture well as I release what is not mine. Someone else will tell the stories that are not mine to tell. My overflowing hands spill forth stories of God's everlasting, unchanging, incomprehensible character. My clasped hands hold firm to the promises I have been given. I trust God will continue to teach me to use these postures well so that no matter the circumstances, my hands will be full of God's presence and the stories of His work in and around me.

Lorilee Guenter is a writer and artist from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. She enjoys exploring God's creation. Her hobbies and interests are varied which leads to an eclectic set of books she is reading.

X is for x by Lorilee Guenter

X marks the spot

 According to the dictionary, x "represents an unknown quantity, factor, result, etc." Etcetera, in other words, x is a symbol we use to mark a number of things that we don't know. In mathematics, it is a placeholder in complex equations. X is also a symbol we use for things we know. On a map, it can mark the point of a significant event or destination. It is used as a signature among the illiterate. This letter which does not start many English words compared to its colleagues, is often used as a symbol of something to be found or something important we need to record.

X marks the spot of what we are looking for. Do we know what we are looking for? Many don't. I enjoy solving logic puzzles. While I don't often write out an equation, the principle applies. I am trying to figure out an unknown. When I write, I am exploring unknowns so they become known. I like to read mysteries. Every mystery is an attempt to find some satisfactory conclusion. The x should be difficult but not impossible to deduce. So many ways I use x without even thinking about it.

In Acts 17, Paul introduces the unknown God to his audience. They had a monument to an unknown god. The residents didn't want to offend anyone among the pantheon they worshipped. To ensure no one was overlooked, this monument was erected. Paul knew the one and only God. He could give them the answer they were looking for. 

X marks the spot. The Greek chi (x) was used at least as far back as the 16th century to denote Christ. It was a mark to indicate your belief much like the cross is today. I find this a fun juxtaposition. X marks the spot of the greatest treasure ever, Jesus Christ, the unknown made known at Christmas. Many did not recognise the Messiah. Many still don't recognise Him. They continue to search for some unknown substance or activity to fill the empty spaces. They use created things to approximate the X in their life equation. 

Today God gives us an unknown quality through the Holy Spirit that sets us apart from the world. Only when we let the Holy Spirit work in us, do we have a chance to make the unknown known. It doesn't happen by trying harder, but as a wise woman once said, it happens by trusting harder.

W is for Watercolour by Lorilee Guenter

One of my creative outlets is art. I like to work with fine detail that requires control where each stroke shows and contributes to the piece of art. Because of this I often struggle with watercolour. By its nature, watercolour resists tight control. It is fluid and easily blends into the surrounding colours and areas. With skill and care a watercolour artist can include a vast amount of detail. However, in order to do so, they must work with the characteristics of the medium instead of fighting with it. A skilled watercolour artist knows when and how to relinquish control and work in co-operative collaboration with the materials. I have heard watercolour is easy to learn and hard to master because of this.

I don't like to relinquish control. I want to know what comes next. I want to create the vision in my imagination. Interestingly, in my writing I often relinquish control and work in co-operative collaboration with the characters I am creating. Before I start a project these characters do not exist. I don't know who they are or what they like. Slowly, as I interact with them on the page, I learn what they like and dislike. I learn who they are and who they want to be. It takes time and a willingness to dream a character into being.

I also need to relinquish control in my life. I only have the illusion of control anyway. I am a character in progress in the greatest story of all time. The Author of my life knit me together [Psalm 139]. He spoke the world into being, then He took time to carefully create me and each one of the characters in this story, past and present. I need to take time to get to know my characters. God knew me from the very beginning. I can delight Him and I can disappoint Him but not surprise Him. The most amazing part of this to me is that although He can control everything, He has entered into a co-operative collaboration with us, His creation.

As I pick up my paintbrush and my pen, I am reminded that I don't have control in my art or my life. I have influence and I can impact the outcome. I am a work in progress not because God can't perfect me in an instant, but rather because He chooses to work with me. He chooses to spend time with me in relationship. The more time I spend with Him, the more I learn amazing things I never could have envisioned. When I relinquish control, God shows me Himself. It is at that point God can most easily show me the next scene because it is at that point I let Him.

V is For Vibrant by Lorilee Guenter

 

Edinburgh Harbour

The drive between Calgary and Saskatoon has a portion that is long, straight and dull. There are no twists or turns. The horizon and the road meet at some distant spot beyond view. I commented on the boredom that accompanies such an unchanging landscape. Then I turned my head. The gentle undulating hills and open prairie was interrupted by a coulee, a rugged gash that cut through the land. The effect caused sharp shadows that highlighted the sharp drops of the land. Light and shadow bring the area to life, they catch the eye and add interest. Further down the road, ranch land gives way to crop land. The vista remains large and unconfined. The possibilities seemingly endless or exceptionally boring depending on your point of view. We paused to take a picture of the golden fields as the sun began to set. Two very different views in this vast vibrant land that could have been lost in the mundane monotony of the drive.

This past spring, I commented that I don't want to make a bucket list. From my point of view, it limits the possibilities. A bucket list requires its creator to consider life from their vantage point and choose the things they hope for. It sounds like a good way to dream of possibilities. Each choice has the potential to expand or contract your view. Once the list is complete, you start working your way through it. Each time you do something from the list you remove it. Step by step, the bucket becomes empty. Then what?

I sat on a hilltop overlooking the Edinburgh harbour. As I watched a cruise ship head out to the North Sea, the vista in front of me was awe inspiring. I sat on the grass and caught a glimpse of the vastness of the sea. Behind me lay the city which encircled the base of the hill. Then the sun began to set. Clouds of an offshore storm fought with the colours of the sunset for our attention. I could smell the grass the sea and the storm as the wind cooled my skin.

One the way back to our hotel room, I realised where my resistance to the bucket list idea originates. I would never have thought to put "watch a sunset over Edinburgh harbour" on my bucket list. In looking to accomplish a set list, how many moments like this would I miss. I recognised I would rather fill my empty bucket with moments of gratitude and wonder than empty it as I cross items off a list.  I want to appreciate the many gifts God gives me in the moments of my days. I lack words to describe some of my experiences. Every time I try, I fall back into cliche. I continue to savour them, hoping one day the words will come. If the words never come, it doesn't matter. I've still had the experience.

God gave me many moments of wonder on that trip. Each one is a gift, a glimpse of the complexity of His Creation. Each one a glimpse of His love for me. He knew what I needed in that moment to refresh and restore me after a full day. He fills us until we overflow with Him. Instead of emptying my bucket, I want to fill it with the many unexpected gifts lavished on me as a child of God. Some moments are large and breath taking, others are smaller, close to home and just as important.

I trust God will continue to turn my head so I see the vibrancy of each moment, and each conversation He orchestrates. Life may not always be easy but it is full of God's abundance. I pray your bucket is filled a little more today.

U is for Underwood by Lorilee Guenter

Recently I picked up an old Underwood Standard desktop typewriter. Compared to newer typewriters it is huge. Based on my research, it improved the technology of the time. It made administrative work easier because of adjustments to the mechanisms. In 1934, there were typewriters in every office the way we have computers today. The Underwood was one of the popular models. Unlike our computers, typewriters had one purpose- to create documents. 

My typewriter sat unused for an unknown amount of time. Dust and rust hinder the smooth movement of the type slugs. The ribbon is dry. In short, this machine- a workhorse in its time- is unable to fulfill its function. But it is a beautiful machine. With care it can be restored. The restoration will take time as I learn the intimate details of this machine and its needs. My Underwood will still bear scars that hint at the story of its life when I'm finished. 

As I blew out the first clouds of dust, I found myself thinking about how God is restoring me. When I wander away from Him, I get dusty. My words get rusty when I choose to leave my pen in the drawer. I no longer fulfill the work God has for me- the purpose He made me for when I withdraw from everything. Like the modern computer, I try to do many things. Like the Underwood, I have one purpose- relationship with God my Saviour. Everything else flows from that. God has been gently restoring me for decades. He will continue until I take my last breath [Philippians 1:6].  

In order to complete the restoration of this machine, I will have to remove pieces. Some of them will be replaced, like the dry ribbon, some will be polished and restored. As he restores us to Himself, God removes pieces. He polishes other pieces, scrapping away the decay. When I stay connected to Him and accept His work in my life, I will not need the major overhaul that I once did. I am grateful for that.

As I learn the inner workings of my machine, I can be confident that God does not need to pause and learn what I need next. He knows. Nothing will surprise Him regarding my needs. Nothing. He knows my desires, my strengths and my weaknesses. He is already working with them, restoring and rebuilding my life.

I look forward to the day my Underwood standard desktop typewriter is all polished and functional. What a treat it will be to type on this classic machine. However, I am even more excited to see how God continues to restore me and those around me. 

T is for Training by Lorilee Guenter

 

Once upon a time, my daughter challenged me to walk/run a 5K with her. I was an overweight, asthmatic who could not run 30 seconds. But how do you say no to the argument: you tell us to just try? I set out to train my body to run for 5 minutes, convinced I would fail. My plan was to run 5 minutes and walk 5 minutes. If I could run more great. I had to work with diligence and intentionality. To my surprise, it worked. I no longer run preferring to hike instead. Because of the earlier training, I know I can hike up to 5K even on a more difficult terrain. 

Somewhere around the time I started training my body, I started retraining my mind. I had written for fun. I kept a journal on and off. I decided I wanted to try writing a novel. I built on my journal habit and sat down to write each day in November that year. The result is a disjointed mess. I had not taken time to build my story telling skills. I might break it up into short stories. I might leave it on the shelf as a reminder that I can try and I can learn. I can train to improve my writing. I have a series of novel attempts. Each better than the last. One is almost ready to publish. During these training exercises, I learned what I like to write and what I struggle to write. The first draft of my writing is always a case of the missing comma. However, with practice, I no longer miss as many commas as I once did. 

Books, workshops, and writing communities are integral to my training. So is reading. I am always reading. Just as an athlete continues to train in their sport, as writers we need to continue to work on our craft.

In Hebrews 12:1 we are challenged to "run with perseverance the race marked out for us." We are also given guidelines for training in faith and life. By fixing our eyes on Jesus we can reach the goal. I can not run this race alone. In each of the training examples above, I had a group of people challenging me,  guiding me and cheering me on. In life and faith we have the same support when we engage with the community around us. No matter how large or small our faith family is, we have a friend and mentor in Jesus Christ through His Holy Spirit. A life of consistent faith is the most important training we will undertake. May we each follow the training plan He has for our lives.