The Up Side of Being Down by Sharon Espeseth

Jesus is in the storm.

My writing buddy and I are writing at Thunder Lake's edge. A slight wind is ruffling the waters and rippling the leaves. Looking across the waters, I see the well-treed area across the lake, the nearer jut of trees that hide the boat dock, and the overhang of trees beside our picnic/writing table. Ground shrubs complete a visual frame of the lake.

Looking down I see my journal, files for my work-in-progress, my thermos mug, and the dark shadow of my borrowed hat. This straw chapeau is full of holes that dance and flit like the ideas flickering in and out of focus in my mind. The sun's rays are soaking into, and healing, my formerly aching back--a memento of a month of moving.

Life has been crazy these past few months. Okay, make that a year. . . The seas have been rough and our boat, Hank's and my boat, has been tossed around like a toy boat in a lively toddler's tub. To back up my thoughts, the breeze has momentarily become a wind and a plane is noisily flying overhead.

Contrast this roughness with the peacefulness of this particular morning. I am learning more and more that Jesus is in my boat, in our boat. We can wake him any time and he will say to the storm, "Peace be still." Peace and quiet returns, maybe not always as quickly as we would like, but it comes.

Weeping may stay for the night. 

Call it an error in judgment. Or call it a lesson learned.

Last June we sold our special, personally designed home. As much as we loved the place, we decided it was too much house, too much garden, and too much lawn for our aging bodies. Our move included downsizing, selling antiques, and getting our home ready for the new owners. At the same time, we were working at our "new place" to make it more suitable to live in.

We had agreed to a rental-caretaking situation, as our landlord would be overseas for half the year. Alas, we had taken on more work than we had before. Good circumstances or not, we felt compelled to keep our commitment for at least one year.

It was a challenging year in many ways with health problems for Hank, illness and other issues in our larger family, and a bout of depression for me after nine years of feeling well. Our living arrangements added to our stress.

I give you all the credit, God--you got (us) out of that mess. (The Message--Psalm 30:1a)

Maya Angelou says, "You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them." To this I would add, We may have problems that seem insurmountable at the time, but we do have a majestic and wonderful God who can help us overcome waves of any size or help us live with the episodes of life that arise.

This past year we sometimes felt, "We (were) hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:8) Oh, but there were moments of despair.

But joy comes in the morning.

Thanks to Our Motley Movers!

In the spring, we started looking for a home more our style. We are now living in half a duplex that is two years old and in good shape. We did more downsizing and our adult kids, sons-in-law, and a couple of their friends moved us. Each one did what he or she was able to do. Hank was in the hospital for the last stage of this move.

Although not all our boxes are emptied, this feels like home already. We are ecstatic to find a home that is more to our liking and easier to care for. We are thankful for all the prayers, emotional support, and physical help we received during this past year. God is good. Our friends are too.

Bobbi Junior, for one, sent me the following from 2 Corinthians 1:3-4. "Praise be to the God . . . of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." That may be one of my writing topics.

For the summer, I hope to write at the lake, at my new desk, or in the shade on the front step. I also have a stack of books I'd like to read and reading is also a writerly activity, so with joy I carry on.

A Joyful Jumble of Writing

Oh, and did I mention learning more about my Canon Rebel T31 and manipulating photos online?

For further joyful experience, I'd like to spend time with our kids and grandkids. To see our GKs, you will have to look on my fb page.

Romancing the Words by Sandi Somers

June is the traditional month for weddings. How appropriate, then, that our prompts focus our thoughts on Romancing the Words.




When did you realize you were romanced by words, language and writing? 

Did you, like Madeleine L’Engle, write your first stories at age five? (Her mother saved those stories for a time, but they’ve thankfully disappeared. She acknowledged, “we don’t write immortal prose at five.”)

Has your writing been a joy?

You may feel like Annie Proulx, who said that writing is “a joyous task. It’s hard, but it’s joyous.”

Or do you sometimes have a love/hate relationship with writing?

Maybe you are like John Muir, the 19th Century naturalist. "This business of writing books is a long, tiresome, endless job," he said while writing his memoirs. Others said he groaned over his work, and he wrote and rewrote, not once, but twenty times trying to polish to perfection.

How does Jesus the Bridegroom romance you with His Words to you?
How is Jesus encouraging you, spurring you on, loving you with His presence as you write?

Romancing Toward My Goals

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams!"

~ Henry David Thoreau

My first publication came when I was about twelve and entered a writing competition for a children’s’ magazine. I wrote the article on a snowy cold day when school was cancelled. I don’t remember much of the content, but I looked out at that frigid sunny day and used sunshine in the story (a technique writers are advised to use).

I won first prize, my first success in becoming a writer.

After that time, my writing became like a seesaw: sometimes I wrote for publication, sometimes I couldn’t write formally, as when I moved into my first home. Some of my articles were published, others were rejected. Some drafts developed into well-written articles, others remained a disorganized miasma.

Meanwhile, I continued journaling significant moments of my life: two years living in Colombia, South America and other travels; work with immigrants and refugees of many cultures; rich spiritual experiences. And I wrote initial drafts of many articles.

Now I’m writing more intentionally, bringing to life my dreams of writing.

How is it going? you may ask. And here’s the challenge.

Being patient when I can’t find the key that unlocks the potential of an idea. Sitting staring at my computer folders full of UFOs--unfinished objects, enough to take me through the next twenty years. Or taking time to discover what relates to my readers.

On the other hand, I recognize that endorphin lift when I encapsulate a good idea or finish a well-developed article. Joy comes when my words speak to others.

Jesus is encouraging me with Maya Angelou’s words—Maya, who passed away this week: "The desire to reach hearts is wise and most possible."

And Jesus encourages me this Paul’s words: “I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us” (Philippians 3:14 NLT).

Now it’s your turn. What thoughts come to mind as you romance the words?