Artistic Journey in Winter: Treasures from the Darkness by Sandi Somers

“Even in darkness light dawns for the upright.”

(Psalm 112:4a NIV).

          

            “Fall is a time when old leaves are shed and trees are left bare for a while. In another season the trees will sprout new leaves again. In much the same way, we sometimes need to shed old ways in order to prepare us for new beginnings. These seasons leave us feeling bare and vulnerable, yet these times are necessary in order for the new ways to sprout.” These words come from our InScribe member, Melanie Fischer.

Melanie has touched on a topic we can all relate to: the unproductive times, the sometimes agonizing, soul-searching times in our lives.

Several years ago I faced a major winter season (both literally and symbolically). I was exhausted from an overly-busy summer, then my sister Karen passed away. We knew her time to meet the Lord was coming, but didn’t expect it so soon. I didn’t have time to grieve before going on a mission trip to Bolivia. It was a complex trip—a delayed flight which caused us to miss our connecting flight. Baggage left behind caused an extra delay. And so our time helping Quechua villagers high in the oxygen-depleted Andes Mountains was abbreviated. Shortly after returning home while driving at dusk, I hit a deer. Although I received no injuries, my car was a write-off—and the unfortunate deer lost its life.

All this left me physically and emotionally depleted.

For months writing was difficult and I couldn’t complete most of the items I had planned to submit. I faced the question: Did this mean THE END for my writing?

God brought across my path the exact meditation to answer that question. In her book, An Artist’s Book of Inspiration, author Astrid Fitzgerald said that these unproductive times are times to rest, reflect, and gather spiritual and emotional strength. “This withdrawl is no small thing and takes great courage and integrity,” she said. “The fear of ‘losing the edge,’ of never working again can be very frightening. There is a sense of doubt and loss…”

Looking back now, I see that God graciously gave me new treasures in the darkness of that winter: the gift of time to grieve, to rest and heal. To meditate on His Word. To trust Him for allI didn’t understand. To give me a deeper understanding of His sovereignty and care in all the events that happened. “(God) renews my strength” the Psalmist said (Psalm 23:3, NLT). He spoke encouragement, peace and promise.

God also infused me with confidence that He was renewing my writing and preparing me for something new. No, this time did not mean THE END. “I will show you the way,” the Holy Spirit softly whispered to me.

And God did show me the way. The next summer I felt as though my writing had taken a great leap as new ideas began to flow--words that brought a deeper message of peace and a more beautiful reflection of Christ’s work in our lives.

Now it’s your turn to answer Melanie Fischer’s question: “Have you had a time in your writing life when you felt that you were in a winter season, stripped bare? But in the end this time clearly led you into spring where you sprouted new leaves?”

We would love to hear your story.

(PS While reading through Grace Fox’ website in preparation for last month’s blog entry, I came across her “winter” experience. You can read it here. Anita Mathias also wrote encouraging words in her blog. Read it here.)  

The Power in ONE by Melanie Fischer

There is a story about a boy who was walking along the ocean shortly after a tidal wave. The enormous whoosh of water had washed thousands of starfish onto the sandy beach. The boy picked up one stranded starfish at a time and threw it back into the ocean. A man walked by and said, “Son, why are you bothering? You will never be able to throw them all back. All your effort isn’t even going to matter.” The boy bent down, picked up another star fish, wound up to throw it into the ocean, then said, “It will matter to this one.”

The memory of this story keeps me grounded when I am pestered by those thoughts “why bother, your efforts aren’t even going to matter.” I am reminded that it may be about just ONE reader, and that is ok.

I believe that even if Jesus’s death on the cross saved just a single person, He still would have done it.

If we are called to help just ONE, may our works be done with the same heart as if it were for many.

“I the Lord search the heart and examine the mind, to reward each person according to their conduct, according to what their deeds deserve.” Jeremiah 17:10

We tend to measure our writing worth by the numbers of likes, friends, re-tweets, list size or book sales. It is easy to become discouraged when we don’t have numbers to back up our efforts. However, we need not worry, these numbers will not be recorded beside our name in the book of life.

We may never sell a million copies of our writings, or be in Oprah’s book club. Rather, it may be about just one.

ONE blog post that comforts someone in deep despair.

ONE story that pours light into a reader’s darkness.

ONE comment that encourages another to keep going.

ONE birthday card that reminds someone that they matter.

ONE stranded soul who is rescued by your words and led back into the ocean.

Write on a piece of paper, “there is power in ONE,” then tack it above your desk. When you become discouraged in your writing efforts, may you be reminded that your message may be for ONE…ONE worthy and precious child of God.

There have been times when I have read something that has changed my world, and the author may never know. Perhaps it was an author who said to themselves “Why bother? Does this even matter?”

I tell you…it mattered to THIS ONE!



I would like to thank you all for your encouragement, insight and love throughout my InScribe blogging journey. The Lord is now taking me on a new leg of the race. I have prayerfully decided to step away from being a regular contributor to this blog. I look forward to continuing to read your contributions.
May the Lord breathe inspiration and blessings into all of your works.
And always remember that you are an integral part of the body of Christ! 
https://youtu.be/0uiluQwALpA

Contentment...What A Gift! By Melanie Fischer

I remember the days when I put myself to sleep by dreaming about winning the lottery.

 

In those days, I was always wanting more rather than stopping to be grateful for what I had. Thanks to Jesus's grace and patience, I am beginning to learn one of the most precious lessons of all...

…contentment.

Paul speaks beautifully about learning how to be content.

“I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” Philippians 4:11-13

In my journey to contentment, it certainly isn't that I never find myself in a lineup that I wished was shorter, or a room that I wished was quieter, or a bank account that I wished was fuller. Life presents us with many opportunities to find thankfulness in moments where it would be easier to find thanklessness. It actually isn't until we find ourselves in such situations that we can learn lessons of contentment.

It is the hard stuff in life that makes us softer. The rough spots give us traction. The tough stuff gives us something to stand on so we can reach new heights. It isn’t until an egg is cracked open that it can be used. It isn’t until muscle is torn that it becomes stronger, and it isn’t until an engine is broken in that it can run to its potential.

Yes, we are sometimes dealt hands that we would rather put back in the deck, but never should we be ungrateful for what we have been given, because the alternative could be that we are given nothing at all.

Lord, please enable us to allow the tough moments in our lives to mould and shape us into great instruments to be used for your glory.

“We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.” Isaiah 64:8

The Four Seasons of the Writer’s Life by Melanie Fischer

There are generally four seasons in the writer’s life.

Fall

This is a time when the writer falls into a slump. It is when the ideas are dryer than a pile of leaves on the front lawn in late September.

Spring

This is when you pull out the dusting cloth. It is when you do some spring cleaning on your works which have sat for a season, then you spring back into action!

Win-ter

This is when the pen and the ink lines up. When the mind and fingers flow. When the words and the messages meld. When the writing slides along with greater ease than a greased sleigh on a toboggan hill. This is the season when you are on a winning streak. This is Win-ter! Unfortunately, win-ter in the writer’s life doesn’t usually last near as long as our Canadian winters. If we get too comfortable in this season, our win-ter tends to melt away like a snowman under a heat lamp.

Some-er time

This brings us into the fourth season of the writer’s life: Some-er time. We like to shorten it to “Some-time.” This is when it is very easy to say “I will write some-time.” During this season we may be distracted by an enticing lawn chair in the back yard, giggling children in the front yard, and all of the other things that happen anywhere but at our desk. And that “some-time” usually isn’t any time soon. Now of course there are legitimate times when we are to put down our pen and pick up our fishing pole. But not always. You could be in a season of distraction. You may need more than sunglasses to keep the glare of distraction out of your eyes. You need “Son-glasses.” Yes, the son of God. Look through Him, and only Him in times of being tempted away from the works which you have been called to. 

This is the season when I experience God as the gardener. This is when He tends to the seeds which produces the fruit of the spirit “self-control.” This is the season when the Lord exercises my discipline and teaches me the rewards of showing up, even when I would rather be elsewhere. This is where the toughest yet the most rewarding writing often comes from.

When we understand and believe that “self-control” doesn’t come from self, but from the Holy Spirit within us, then even the sunniest days will not call us away for the works which the Lord has entrusted us with.

This is the season when we have the greatest opportunity to grow; the season when we can learn how to turn “Some-time” into “Some-thing.”

Melanie Blog's at www.HungryForPurpose.com/blog

All photo's from Flickr photo sharing

Run Like Your Pants are on Fire by Melanie Fischer

For some reason, when I read this month’s theme from the movie Chariots of fire, I envisioned a man running with his pants on fire. This, however, doesn't make much sense; if your pants were on fire you probably would not run—you would stop, drop and roll.

Not only did this month’s topic spark this odd image, but it sparked the message for this post.

What I am trying to get at is this: we need to go like we have a fire under us. Our life is like a race. Not in a competitive or rushed manner, but in the way that we need to keep going until we get to the finish line. Of course the Lord only knows the day that we will cross that line, but in the meantime we are to keep going and run a good race!

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." 2 Timothy 4:7 NIV 

It is amazing to feel God’s pleasure in our writing, but the fact is that does not always happen. I tend to feel His pleasure more in “having written” than in the writing itself. Showing up and doing the work, even when it is not satisfying, is an act of worship and is glorifying to God.

Of course the race is different for all of us. Some writing races (probably few) look like this…

But for many, our races look a bit more like this…

The writing race isn’t always fun, it isn’t always easy, it isn’t always pleasurable; however, let’s wipe the mud off of each other’s faces, put band-aids on our boo-boos and cheer each other on.

The tendency may be to stop, drop and roll…but unless your pants really are on fire, we need to keep running this race.

If you are discouraged and need to feel God’s pleasure, I say step up to the starting line then start running. The Lord WILL be with you the entire time because He promises that He will never leave you nor forsake you. We may not feel His pleasure the whole way through, but He will be waiting at His gate for us as we cross that finish line. He will peer into His book of life, smile upon our names, and say “well done good and faithful servant.”


"However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me - the task of testifying to the good news of God's grace." Acts 20:24 NIV



Photo source: PhotoPin

Writing From the Heart…it’s gonna get messy! by Melanie Fischer

When I think of the saying “breathings of the heart,” I think of eloquent words and articulate phrases.

When I write breathings of the heart, there tends to be a lot of hot air. I spill my guts onto my page—making it rather soggy—then I pray that it dries out by the time I need to publish it.

May we not get trapped in Hollywood’s version of writing, where the writer just breathes and the words show up on the page. There might be a micro thin slice of writers who are able to do this. But for most of us there is much crying, cussing, weeping, wallowing, and pleading with the Lord to making our writers life a bit easier.

Why?

Because writing from the heart is tough. Writing from the heart is not usually as neat and tidy as

many finished products appear. And writing from the heart gets messy. But messy is what needs to happen before it can get neat.

Think of a pure white carpet. A cup of fruit juice spills on it and it is changed forever. You sop up the

bulk of the mess, but scrubbing, soaking and bleaching will not release the grip of the stain that is left behind.

Writing from the heart happens in much the same way. You spill your messy nitty gritties onto the 

pure white page. Then pray for wisdom and discernment to sop up the words which do not need to stay—If you are going to rely on breathing for your writing, may it be the breath of prayer.

No need to lament over messy writing…that is what leaves the stains behind in order to make your piece unforgettable.

Melanie's hunger for purpose fuels her blog at www.hungryforpurpose.com

What comes first…the seed or the dirt? by Melanie Fischer

Without the dirt there is no where to plant the seed. Without the seed there is no how to produce more seeds in order to plant.

Do we writers need inspiration in order to write, or do we need to write in order to become inspired?

In my experience, it is when those moments of complete un-inspiration are combined with the

discipline of showing up that the Lord has blessed my pen the most. In the times when I have threatened to quit, begged to stop, stomped my feet or stuck out my lip in a pout, but put my fingers to the keyboard anyway, that suddenly—lo and behold—something turned on.

The farmer toils in his field, then one day stands back to see what has come from his works. This is

what encourages him to plant again—but not until the work is done first. It is the physical act of sitting down and writing that gives us the opportunity to look back on what we actually wrote. This often becomes the fertilizer for the next piece.

There is a practical fear—what if the farmer plants the field then it is struck by a drought? What if the writer sits down at the computer and the mind is struck by a drought? All that hard work gone to waste. “But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.” Jeremiah 17:7, 8. Stay in the word, live by faith, pray without ceasing—that is what allows our works to sprout, even when the land dries up.

To address the fear that our works will be unoriginal and will all look the same, consider a handful of wildflower seeds. They look similar—until you plant them. As they grow, they develop and become unique and individual. Once the writer starts writing, the story will develop. It isn’t until the seed is planted though that we see what it is destined to become.

So…how do I keep myself and my writing fresh as new articles are produced? I look back at the works which were created in those moments of un-inspiration; those moments that the Lord reigned upon my crops just because I showed up to plant them. “I planted the seed, Apollos watered it, but God made it grow.” 1 Corinthians 3:6.

Waiting for inspiration in order to write would be like a farmer refusing to turn on the sprinkler system until it rains. In order to write we must write. If this is what we genuinely feel called to do, let's make a plan of when to do it, show up, then do the work, even when we are not in the mood to do so. Plant the seeds and they will grow.

What is going to come first? The seed or the dirt?

Melanie Blogs about Purpose at: www.hungryforpurpose.com/blog

My Eur-Ek-A moment by Melanie Fischer

My Eureka moment hasn’t really been “A moment”. It hasn't appeared in a flash of light, a flick of a switch or a bolt of reality. It has trickled in, and has come in three parts. 1.Eur 2.ek 3.a.

PART ONE

"Eur"…as in "yur a writer" 

Part one happened when I was about seven years old. 

I wedged my pale-blue-colored, Holly Hobby sticker-covered dresser into my bedroom doorway. I plunked a pile of scrap loose leaf and a jar of pencils on top. Mom’s manual typewriter weighed about as much as I did, but I managed to hoist it up on that writing surface. I then positioned a stack of side tables behind that chest of drawers and crawled up them. I popped open the typewriter cover, slid a pencil behind my ear, then declared my journalist’s office “open for business.”

That was when God told me “yur a writer.” It wasn’t for another 30 years that I would take Him seriously though. And why would I? Sure…I could type a line of “sdkfjlskjflkjldskjf” so fast that it would make those little metal arms jam together. But my English teachers certainly never took me serious. And this brings us to Part two.

PART TWO

"Ek"…pronounced "eeeeeek"

As for my English teachers, it was harder for them to make me write an essay than it was to get the gum off the bottom of the desks. I didn’t like structure. I didn’t like the rules of grammar and punctuation. And I certainly didn’t like writing what I was told to write. I protested against such controlled writing all the way to a solid “C”. A day came though—there was that list on the chalkboard under the heading “choose one of these people to write about.” As if it were flashing in neon lights, the name “Mozart” caught my immediate attention. As luck would have it, I was fascinated by this musical genius. I could hardly wait to sprint down to the library and take out every book I could find. I ate the history of Mozart for breakfast and poured out his story onto my scratch pad. With the confidence of a champion I handed in my completed work. 

I could hardly wait to get my grade back. I was more eager than a kid in the lineup to Splash Mountain. The day finally came. In traditional teacher fashion, she placed our assignments face down on each of our desks. I flipped those pages over to reveal…”Eeeeeek!” Instead of my anticipated A+++, the words written in red pen across my page said, “plagiarism is not acceptable.” I was a bit confused. I didn’t know what plagiarism was. I probably wasn’t paying attention in that class. Once I had it explained, I trucked back to the library, took all those books out once again, plopped them on my teacher’s desk, and told her as nicely as I possibly could that if she found a single sentence that I took out of any of those books I would accept an “F”. I ended up with my only A in that class!

Interesting enough, that false accusation of fraudulent activity didn’t discourage me from writing. It was simply a very loud “not yet.”

PART THREE

“A”…said like this “Ahhhhhh”

“Not yet” alright! And it wouldn’t be “yet” for another twenty years. Life took me on a detour through parenting, a career in science, some hobbies, many interesting experiences, lots of ups and downs, some self-discovery, and eventually into a relationship with Christ. 

And then. My path collided with desperation to understand my purpose. That was when the Lord began to rearrange my life and awaken my calling to write. Opportunities began to emerge and I was clocked on the side of the head with a resounding “Ahhhhhh…now it’s time!” 



As it turns out, if it wasn’t for all the "Eeeeeek's" between the “Yur” and the “a” I wouldn’t have anything to write about. The Lord knows our path before He even places us on it. The time comes when we will see the little crumbs of evidence of our purpose peppered along our trail. We just need to do our best to be patient and wait for His timing to bring our Eur-ek-a moment together.


For more of Melanie's writing visit www.hungryforpurpose.com/blog

My First Artist's Date by Melanie Fischer

This term "Artist's date" is new to me. It has never crossed my mind to set aside time to become artistically rejuvenated. Apparently it is important though, because the Lord has been relentlessly pursuing me with obvious intentions of lassoing my overactive mind.

Exactly one week ago today I predictably perched myself in front of my computer screen. I nestled into the carved out corner of my basement and blankly gawked at my computer. My hands could not bring themselves to type, yet they were obedient to the call of my coffee addiction as they raised an oversized cup of lukewarm java to my lips over and over again.

Still...there was nothing.

Life circumstances had sucked up every morsel of inspiration and motivation. My mind and heart were left emptier than my mug.

How could I just sit here and come up with nothing?

The phone then rudely interrupted my self-scolding session. An overly hyper voice caught me off guard. My good friend explained at mock-speed that she was on the other line with her travel agent booking us a trip to a hot destination. Funny how moments ago I had not a drop of imagination inside of me yet I could conjure up the most colourfully creative reasons why I could not take a holiday. Her refusal to accept "no" as an answer landed me on a Mexican beach four days later.

From a perfectly positioned cafe table in an all-inclusive resort I overlook a sandy beach into a distant mountainous backdrop as I chuckle at this month’s blog topic. The heat of the sun, song of an unknown bird, laughter of children on the beach and rushing of waves against the shore has managed to restore my soul.

I had no idea how empty I was until I became full again.

I am quite certain that this will not be a typical artist’s date, but at least now I understand the importance of having them.

Thank you Lord for clearing my busy calendar (and my busy mind) in order to gift me with my first of many artist dates.

The Only Way To Know What Lies Ahead by Melanie Fischer

I remember the days when us kids would hop in the box of pickup-trucks and go for a ride. That was in the age when it was not illegal but equally a bad idea.

It was so exciting to gaze over the tailgate and watch the trees and signs wiz past the back of my head. I would then lock my eyes on a particular object and become fascinated with watching it come into focus as we moved further away.

Life tends to work in the same way. It whirls experiences by our head that can only be brought into focus by moving past them. How could we possibly know the positive impact of our painful experience unless we move beyond it? How would we see the blessings within a loss without moving through it? How could the reason for a period of excruciating pain possibly come into perspective until we become far enough away from it that we can see it clearly? It is not until we move past the object that we can focus on it and understand what the purpose of it was.

When in the back of the truck, I could have turned around and watched that same object through the windshield. What a different perspective that would have been. I would have known what was coming, perhaps it would have spoiled my fun though. Things seemed to come much slower when looking ahead rather than seeing what unfolded behind. And what if we stopped or turned? The object that I anticipated seeing would have never come into full view.

If I have learned anything from looking back, it is that it rarely looks the same as it did when I was looking ahead. If all things came to us the way we “planned”, we would never experience hardships and blunders. We don’t fill our dreams with hurdles, or pepper our plans with hurts, although, it is the bumps in the road that makes life an interesting ride.

If we are trusting that Christ is in charge, then we are trusting that we are going where He intends for us to go. It is up to us to pray for direction then move ahead. It is when we do that we are rewarded by getting to look behind and watch the past unfold.

We can set goals, have dreams, and look ahead. But the only way that we will know for certain what lies ahead, is by moving forward then looking back.

The Greatest Christmas Gift by Melanie Fischer

I will never forget it. It was one of those moments where kids get confused why adults cry at happy things. I heard a commotion at the front door. Mom sounded like a child as she squealing with excitement. I sheepishly peeked around the corner to see what was going on. I saw a couple ladies standing at the front door dressed in bulky winter coats and Santa hats. I didn’t recognize the women. In my mom’s familiar loving voice, I heard “thank you” over and over. The couple of strangers then hopped off our front step and went on their way. Mom ambitiously dragged a ginormous decorated box into our living room.

“Who was that?” I inquired. With a bit of a shocked look on moms face she replied, “I don’t know, they just came to drop off some gifts and food for Christmas dinner”. I was oddly curious why complete strangers would do that for us. “They must be some very special people” I thought, “maybe even angels.”

Mom was on her own with us three kids. I was the middle one. We always had what we needed, but not much extra. With tears dripping down moms cheeks, she popped open the box and peaked inside. We kids were tiny and that box was so big we could crawl right inside of it. We took turns pulling out wrapped packages and an assortment of other goodies, screeching with excitement at every find. We stacked the presents under the tree, and the food on the kitchen table. Mom took careful inventory of the precious gifts as we enthusiastically planned the upcoming festivities.

Christmas quickly came. I was nine years old then, but I remember that time as if it were yesterday. I recall unwrapping a giant craft set that I cherished as if it were as precious as the gifts baby Jesus received.

Our faces were plastered with grins, and moms' fridge soon became plastered with art work. It wasn’t the wrapped presents though that was the greatest gift that was left behind. The lesson on how to love and care for people we didn’t even know, lingered in our home long after the presents were unwrapped and the Christmas dinner was digested.

Melanie Blogs at http://www.hungryforpurpose.com/blog

Building a Memorial of God’s Goodness by Melanie Fischer

If I was given a brick every time the Lord revealed His goodness in my life, what a monument I could build!

BRICK: I got into my car after picking up groceries. I spotted a lady walking across the parking lot, heading to her car with a bouquet of flowers. Instantly I contemplated going back inside to purchase a bundle of spring petals. I hesitated though, knowing that flowers was not a wise purchase at this time. I decided to pray for them instead. The next day, at the end of the Sunday service, one of the ladies walked right up to me and asked if I would like the floral arrangement that decorated the front of the church. “Yes, yes I would” I replied.

BRICK: My daughter sat nervously waiting to take her driver’s test. I prayed in my head for the Lord to hold her in His hands. Without skipping a beat, “Daddy’s Hands” began to play through the speakers.

BRICK: I was growing weary of my current job and desperately wanted to know if this was what I was to continue to do, or if there was something else that I was being called to. I then petitioned for the Lord to make it obvious if He was releasing me from these works. Within moments, my phone “dinged” with a text from a friend asking if she could hire me for a writing project.

BRICK: An unexpected insurance bill came in the mail. It was only $35, but money was really tight at the time, and even that amount was a stretch. I had a peace about it though and trusted that the Lord would take care of it. Sure enough, out of the blue, we received a rebate cheque in the mail from our phone company for the exact amount.

BRICK: I had a heavy conviction on my heart to take better care of my body. As I filled up my glass bowl with leftovers, I prayed that the Lord would teach me what size of portions I should have. I then put my bowl into the microwave for a couple minutes. I pulled out the steaming hot food, and as I lifted it up, I bumped the side of the microwave. The bowl then literally split in half, spilling a good part of my food onto the floor.

BRICK: The missionary focus that Sunday was on an African village that was struggling to survive. The stories of extreme poverty and starvation left me hungry to help. Money was tight though, so I was unsure if I was able to give. I felt a strong nudge to put my grocery money into the offering plate. I took a deep breath and trusted that the Lord would provide. I drove straight home after church because I was expecting company. The family member who came for a visit was already parked out front of my house. As I walked over to give her a hug she told me that she needed help carrying some bags inside. She opened her trunk and doors to reveal a car packed with groceries. She said that her church prayed for a family to bless. We were on their hearts. AMEN!

It may be argued by some that the Lord’s hand cannot be seen, but the wake that the brush of His hand leaves behind certainly is visible. A memorial which is built in dedication of the goodness that God pours upon our lives is one that will never cease in being built.

What To Do When Our Writing Goes Up In Flames? by Melanie Fischer

What do you do if your hard work goes up in flames?

Be thankful for smoke signals.

It is better for ones writing piece to go up in flames and give off a smoke signal, than for it not to give off anything at all. It is easy to get wrapped up in the pain of rejections and miss the blessings which lay within them.

We writers tend to fear criticism and rejection, yet it is through this that we have the greatest opportunities for growth. When we pay attention to the signal that rejection is giving off, our skills develop in ways they could not otherwise do so. "Mistakes" give us chances for "retakes". Life's speed-bumps allow us to slow down when we may be spinning out of control. And, the long routes are the most scenic ones.

Maybe it was not God's timing. We certainly do not want to go against the Lord's time, which would cause greater grief than a rejection letter.

Maybe the words which were penned needs to go deeper. There is a tendency to keep our message shallow when we are digging into sensitive topics--depth has much greater impact on the reader.

Maybe the words that you thought you wrote for others, was instead, a message that you needed to hear.

No matter the reason why a piece is turned down, pay attention to what signal it is giving off. This is the way to learn, grow, stretch, strengthen and become who the Lord has created you to be. If you receive a rejection letter, you can crumple it up and use it to wipe away your tears. Or, you can fan the flames and receive clear smoke signals in order to understand how to be the best steward of this gift of writing that you can possibly be.

Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you" declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

How To Accomplish God Inspired Works… Look at it as if it were cheese! by Melanie Fischer

Huh? What does this have to do with cheese?

God gives us dreams and desires. Often these are BIG ideas. They are big, because He is big. At first, when the undertaking is still a dream, it is thrilling. When we step up to the starting line though, we can easily become exhausted by all the details.

A grand ambition like writing a blog, a novel, or perhaps a series of novels has a lot of moving parts. How does one accomplish such tasks without becoming overwhelmed?

1.      Picture the project as a giant block of cheese.

Step back and envision what the entire piece will look like. Your destination does not have to be crystal clear in order to start. The key here is to understand the general direction of the works that the Lord is calling you to, and understand that it is part of a big picture.

2.      Take a bite.

You would choke if you tried to eat an entire block of cheese at once. And, if you just stare at it with a mindset that it is “too big and impossible to eat” it will remain a chunk of cheese forever. The only choice left is to take one bite at a time. Take a deep breath, trust God to direct each mouthful, then take a bite. God is honored when we step out in obedience and begin.

3.      Keep chewing.

Focus on ONE bite at a time, and do not stop until you swallow. Once the going gets tough it is easy to quit or assume that we are on the wrong path. Some steps are long, and hard. It is through this process though that the Lord shapes us. So keep at it!

4.      Savor each bite.

Sometimes we do not end up where we thought we were going. Perhaps this is God teaching us to rely entirely on Him and lean not on our own understanding. So enjoy the scenery because you may never be back.

5.      Digest.

If we are not cautions, we can get wrapped up in our own labor and miss God’s work. Be careful not to overlook the miracles along the way, and certainly do not miss out on opportunities to share them.


No matter the size of the block of cheese, keep stepping back to gain focus on the works that you have been called to. Take one bite at a time and keep at it to completion. Enjoy the journey and don’t miss the Lord’s hand in all you do.

Even if you are lactose intolerant, works done for the Glory of God is one block of cheese you can digest.


Photo by Patrick Hoesly - Photo Pin

What if I had a year to write? By Melanie Fischer

That is a great question. No more cramming writing into an optimistically anticipated one hour that might be left over at the end of the day.

I can truly answer this question for you since I have had a couple cracks at a full year away from a "normal" job in order to write. I dove into this dream headfirst. However, the water was a bit shallower than I expected. I hit my head on the bottom of the dream when I realized that "time to write" meant time to do everything but write.

That's ok though. Since my work is flexible I have “all the time in the world” and I can write “anywhere at any time”. For instance, when my mom had her hip-replacement I could just bring my laptop with me to the hallway crowded, emergency bustling, machine beeping hospital. I could peck away at my keyboard a quarter sentence at a time as I perched myself on the 4 inch by 4 inch bed corner that I sprang from every fifteen minutes to let a nurse go by.

I have had many other places during my year(s) to write to lug my unopened laptop to as well. I was available for a very close friend through an agonizing time of losing her husband. I volunteered at a local soup kitchen and befriended the homeless and addicted. I visited an isolated arctic community and had my eyes opened to the third-world country that exists in our own country. I sat with my cousin through cancer treatments. My husband and I brought a lost teenager into our home and released our daughter back to university. I became more available for my husband in order for him to focus on his aspirations and hopped on the back of our Harley at times that my flexible schedule accommodated my husband’s less than flexible schedule. And, I had time to connect with amazing writers with similar struggles, aspirations and yearnings for inspiration.

By the end of my days that are set aside for writing I sneak away to my messy desk that is tucked away in an otherwise immaculate home that I have plenty of time to keep clean. The house is tidy, the yard is straightened, the dog is fed, the laundry is put away, the kids are grown. I take a look at the clock. Perfect! An hour of uninterrupted, laser focused, powerfully productive writing time. Just enough to write about all of the things that happened during the time that I had to write.

So, how would I write if I had a whole year to focus on it? Not much differently than if I didn’t, just a little different content that is all.



You can read Melanie’s related article “The reality in being a fulltime writer” in the Spicy section of June’s issue of her monthly Purpose Buffet at http://www.hungryforpurpose.com/purpose-buffet-june/

To sign up to receive the monthly Hungry for Purpose Buffet go to www.hungryforpurpose.com

Persisting In Sending Out The Lord’s Message by Melanie Fischer

 

Today we are delighted to welcome InScribe member Melanie Fischer as our Guest Blogger.

A dandelion is immensely more than a pesky weed; it is a grand lesson in persistence. This wildflower possess soft petals and unique beauty in its young flowering state. When it matures though, its sole purpose is to get its message (its seeds) out.

When push comes to shove, the dandelion does not take “no” for an answer. Even when mowed down and raked into a heap of grass and other weeds, the dandelion persists to seed. When a breeze sweeps over the withering plant, the wind grasps the seeds and carries them away. New dandelions then sprout wherever they have found fertile ground.

This reminds me of when Paul was in jail. Even when bound in chains, he did not cease to spread the Lord's message.

“Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.” Ephesians 6:19, 20 (NIV).

Paul persistently sent the words out, and because he did, we continue to read those letters today. Even though the messenger Paul eventually perished, the message never did.

Persist in sending out the message that the Lord has placed in your hearts, on your tongues, in your pens and on your computer screens. Press “send”.

Melanie Fischer is fresh out of the published gate, releasing her works into the world. She is a writer - story telling style, blogger and teacher of technologies behind getting the Lord’s message out. You can visit her website at www.hungryforpurpose.com or follow her blog at www.hungryforpurpose.com/blog

Photos source:  Melanie Fischer and Ashley Fischer