Imitation or the Real Thing By T. L. Wiens

My daughter and her husband were visiting on the August long weekend. When they come, so do the desserts. The decision was made to make Skor bit Chocolate Cake Trifle. My son in-law doesn’t care for things containing whipped cream and requested a lemon pie. I would have gladly made him one but I get complaints when I make “real” lemon pie using actual lemons. He wants the kind that comes from a box.

Food isn’t the only thing where I find today’s society wanting the imitation in place of the real. There are so many things on television where relationships are built on physical attraction. Just like the nutrition that is lacking from boxed foods, these relationships lack depth and real love.

Unfortunately, this trend has also made its way to the church where people want instant gratification. Health, wealth and prosperity have replaced truth. False teachings are everywhere.

These imitations are making it harder all the time to share the true message of the gospel of Jesus Christ. As a Christian writer, the temptation is there to follow the trend and probably sell more books. If I just brought in enough to get them interested, I could still end with the truth. But my heart knows there is no joy in imitations and there is no backdoor entry into God’s Kingdom.

      “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears; And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and shall be turned unto fables. But watch thou in all things, endure afflictions, do the work of an evangelist, make full proof of thy ministry.”

2 Timothy 4:3-5

The Tree - T.L. Wiens

Merry Christmas Everyone!

This will be a record breaking length of blog entry for me. I hope you enjoy this story, my gift to you. God bless you all and may this season be filled with thanksgiving and love for Jesus Christ.

 

The Tree

By

T. L. Wiens    

There was once a town that existed like all the other towns around it.  People went about their days doing their tasks without much thought about why they existed.  Then a man came to town.  He was a very wise man who taught the townspeople many things.  Suddenly they understood their existence.

            Once the man was sure they understood, he told the people to remember his words.  He gave them a book so they could always remember what he’d taught them.

            “I must leave you now,” he told them.  “It is up to all of you to carry on the work I have started.”

            With that, he left.

            The townspeople considered how they would keep the words of the man in their memories.  They decided to plant a tree in the center of town as a symbol of remembrance.  They all took turns watering and nurturing the tree.

The years went by and the tree became strong and tall.  Around it, many young saplings sprung out of the ground.  The townspeople faithfully cared for the trees.

            A family moved into the town around the time the townspeople had a public meeting as to who would take the job of caring for the tree grove that was very important to the town but people’s lives were too busy to spend their days caring for it.  A young boy from the new family stood.

            “I would like to know why this tree is so important.”

            No one seemed to know but assured him this tree and those around it were very important and must be cared for.  The boy was confused but felt he was up to the task of caring for these trees in hopes that somehow doing this job would reveal the tree’s secrets.

            He was faithful in his work.  He worked up the soil near the base of the trees, removing all the weeds and in his desire to do a good job, unearthed the book the man had left so many years earlier.  He read it, amazed by the wisdom of it.  He knew the reason for the tree and hurried to tell the townspeople but they were too busy to hear this small child.

            The boy began praying the man who had imparted the wisdom found in the book would come back—maybe the townspeople would listen to him.

            One day, an old man appeared at the edge of the tree grove.  He was dressed in rags and looked hungry and tired.  The boy spotted him and felt compassion for him.

            “Would you like to share my lunch?” he asked.

            The man gratefully accepted.  After they ate, they sat back to admire the tree grove.

            “So tell me, young man, why is this tree grove here in this place where so few trees grow?”          

            “I don’t exactly know,” the boy replied.  “The townspeople all say this is a very important tree to this town but no one seems to know why.  Then I found this book at the base of the tree and read its words but do not fully understand them.”

            “Could you show me this book?”

            The boy nodded. He soon came back holding the weathered old book. It was in great disrepair, the binding letting go and the words smudged from the time spent under the ground.

            The old man took the book and held it in his hand, his eyes filling with tears to see the condition it was in.  He shook his head at the truth of it.

            The boy stared at the old man and knew—this was the author of the book.

            “I have been waiting and praying for you,” the boy declared.  “You must tell them the meaning of the tree.  They will listen to you.”

            The old man shook his head again.  “No son, they won’t see.  They are more interested in the symbol than its true meaning.”

            With those words, the old man stood and headed down the street out of town.  The boy cried.

           

            Shortly after the encounter with the old man, the boy noticed one of the saplings was sick.  He consulted many books and discovered the disease of this sapling could destroy the whole grove. He hurried to tell the townspeople.

            “What do you think we should do?” one of the elders of the town asked him.

            “We have to destroy this sapling before the disease spreads.”

            The townspeople thought that was too drastic.  They ordered the boy to do whatever he could but not to destroy the sick sapling.

            Soon other saplings were getting sick.  Their once vibrant branches were empty sticks hanging in the air.  The boy went to the elders again, pleading with them to allow him to remove the sick trees.  The elders would not hear of it. They had raised this grove of trees up out of nothing and weren’t about to let anyone remove anything from it.

            The boy watched as all the trees in the grove became sick until all that was left was the great tree and the dead saplings surrounding it.  The boy made one more plea to the elders but again they refused to listen.  Soon the leaves of the great tree also began to turn brown as the life of the tree was eaten away by the disease.  Soon all that stood in the grove were dead trees, stripped of the majesty they once displayed.

            The townspeople called a meeting.  They all blamed the boy for the trees’ demise.  He hadn’t done enough to care for their important tree.  The boy and his family fled the town for fear of his life.

            Some years later, he returned to the town. He saw the townspeople gathered around the dead trees.  It appeared they were worshiping them.  The boy hung his head in sadness as he slipped away.

On his way out of town, he was joined by the old man.

            “Why do they stand and worship this dead thing?” the boy asked.

            The old man put his arm around him.  “They have mistaken the symbol for what it stands for.  They think the power is in the tree.”

            The boy nodded.  “How can I prevent from falling into this trap?”

            “Have you still got the book?”

            “Yes.”

            “Read it.  Live it and believe in me.”

            The old man vanished as suddenly as he appeared.  The boy smiled.  The old man was so much more than what he appeared to be and the words of the book were the truth he represented.  The tree was not the source of the life—only a symbol of it.  The boy opened the book and began to read finding the words had new depth and meaning—he now understood.

My Brian is Numb By T. L. Wiens

I had a very creative piece I was going to submit to the blog this month. I lost it somewhere in the hundreds of files on my computer. I’ll probably find it ten minutes after posting this. Instead, you will get this Nanowrimo worn out brain.

I finished my 50000 words in eight days. I guess that’s what happens when I take a month off writing. I can’t type fast enough but I know a lot of people struggle to get the words down. That’s why I dislike the number game.

I know goals are good but we don’t all write fast. Some of us cannot stand to look at red scattered throughout our text and have to stop to correct. I know people who think getting one written paragraph a day is quite an accomplishment. All of these represent the same deep desire; they have to get the story written at whatever pace they are able to do this.

November is also Remembrance Day month. While I have plot complications that I want to get on paper, there are other things in life that are more important. Remembering the sacrifice of soldiers who all gave and give their lives is one of those occasions. Some die on the battlefield, some suffer slow excruciating living deaths and all are haunted with the memories that change them. This deserves my time. Writing stops.

For all of you challenging yourself to Nanowrimo, I pray the story comes and your fingers fly across the keyboard. For those of you who are seeking out other endeavors, I pray God’s leading.

God bless you all. It is wonderful to be a part of this family.

 

Like Riding a Bike by T. L. Wiens

When I was young, I rode at least ten miles a day on my bike whenever weather permitted. The bike I rode was plain jane. I had access to a ten speed but always chose my simple, back pedal brake model. It did make hills a bit more work and you didn’t let go of the handle bars.

Then I moved away from home, got married and had children. My bike didn’t get much attention.

Now, I’m finding the desire to get back on my bike only my good old faithful ride has long since been stripped of parts to keep my children’s bikes pedaling. I still didn’t want the fancy multi-speed model. Then I was given an old moped with the motor removed. I do have the luxury of handlebar brakes but that’s it for extra features.

Recently, I took part in a reading at the library where the writers from my local group were featured. We had everything from fiction to nonfiction, poetry to novels. Our group consists of a large range of writers from those who write for fun to those who make a living from it.

I noticed the crowd’s response more than usual. When the most accomplished writer in the group shared part of his new creative nonfiction, the writing followed all the musts an editor would hone in on but the content lost the listener. The least "polished" of our writers had her audience hanging onto her every word.

I’ve read a couple of award winning books and have to say, they didn’t do much for me. I won’t reread them. It makes me question if we’ve put too much emphasis on technical aspects of writing, too stuck on the details the average reader doesn’t notice.

I like my simple bike because of the pure enjoyment of doing the work of climbing the hill and then the rush of coasting down the other side. And maybe that’s what I need to focus on in my writing as well.

Musings by T. L. Wiens

Over the last few months my husband almost died, my mother had a heart attack, my father in-law has faced serious health issues and my mother in-law has broken her hip which led to diagnosing other serious health issues. All these incidents have put me into a figure out my priorities state of mind.

I’ve gone through many ups and downs during my short writing career. More often or not the pendulum has swung towards walking away from the difficulties of publishing. And then the “but” rises to the surface—I’ve had many encouraging letters and phone calls from people who were helped with my writing.

But what do you do when you receive a scathing personal attack from others within the industry? When I published my third novel, I knew it was not going to be the favourite of many Christians in the industry. Then I heard back from the royalty mainstream publisher—the editor thanked me for the book. She said it cleared up many things she never understood about Christianity. As part of the contract, the book was sent to be considered by a Christian book awards organization. What I got back was a personal attack that had nothing to do with the book. When I contacted the awards people, they apologized. The lady said, “I thought I deleted all of those comments.” It hurt. They’d judged me instead of the book. When I asked to see the comments, I was told they couldn’t provide me with them. I left the group associated with the awards. I then went through who had won the awards over the years and was appalled to find the blatant favouritism in who was chosen as winners year after year.

I don’t ever expect to a best seller but I will never be a sell out. Will I ever publish again? Maybe, if God leads that way. For now, I will continue to write and share my stories with the people God places in my path. And for those who decided to make my entry of a book in their awards a chance to attack me, I feel sorry for them. How can anyone take our profession seriously with behaviour like that?
Now I find myself wondering what to do with the time given me. Watching life slip away before my eyes makes me realize if God can use my writing, I will continue serving Him with this gift.

Choosing Workshops at a Conference by T. L. Wiens

I’ve been busy trying to help put together the His Imprint Christian Writers Conference. I received an interesting comment from someone looking at the brochure. She told me she didn’t think many of the workshops related to her writing genre.

I don’t know why she would feel this way. We’re covering characters, dialogue, plots, sales, music and writing integrity as well as offering one on one sessions with our own president, Ruth Snyder.

I realize on first glance many of the session would appear to be only for fiction writers but that’s not true. All these parts of writing are important to non-fiction as well.

Plots. I have often read non-fiction pieces that I wish had taken more consideration of the plot. I realize there are limitations when recounting a true story but too often I’ve encountered poor flow in the retelling. Often, a lot of repetition. As with fiction, a non-fiction piece, whether it be a story or even a self-help type of book, needs to flow.

Characters and Dialogue. But non-fiction comes with a set character list. To a degree, yes but too often these characters aren’t as well rounded as they could be. A non-fiction writer would do themselves a favour to look deeply into their characters, fill out a character sketch. Dialogue is another area every writer needs skills.

Sales. This one is obvious. Every writer needs to know about this.

Music. This is one that not every writer may need but many aspects of the music industry reflect that of the writing industry.

Writing Integrity. Every writer needs to look at his/her reason for writing and what goals they wish to accomplish.

So come out and spend a day with some wonderful writers and let yourself explore the possibilities of where your writing journey will take you.

Stay Close to the Source by T. L. Wiens

How many of you have read something and thought this is a very interesting theology? Sometimes I’ve read things and thought, wow, someone else sees the same thing in scripture that I see. Then I continue to read and find there it is, the false teaching that so many times contradicts the very thing the author has set out to point out to other believers.

Why does this happen so often? It discredits everything—the truth is lost. And I live in fear of being that author. How do we avoid something that seems like a very basic human weakness? The Bible.

We all need to study our Bibles, not with a devotional manual but with the Holy Spirit guiding us. Sometimes this means putting down a lot of preconceived notions put there by our own thoughts on issues, church background and denominational lines. This is not easy but must be done to make sure we’re not sabotaging our own faith. We all want to honour Jesus Christ in the words we write. The only way to do that is by making sure we know His Word first.

2 Timothy 2:15 “Study to shew thyself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth.”

POINT THE WAY, NOT THE FINGER - Bruce Atchison

I'm sure we've all come across those poorly-plotted books which tell rather than show. They contain unrealistic characters who never have problems and always have something to say about others' sins. Though I can't remember any titles that I've read, I certainly remember one dreadful record a friend bought for me.

This woman figured that I should listen to uplifting songs, not that "satanic" rock music on the local radio station. After church one Sunday, she handed me a plastic bag with an LP inside it. "I bought you this album for young people," she announced. "This music is so much nicer than that horrid rock music you listen to."

My suspicions were confirmed regarding this "music for young people" album. It contained preachy skits which sounded mawkish and tacky. The songs also sounded contrived as if the composer had no idea of what a young adult would appreciate. To be fair to my church friend, I managed to listen to the entire record but it was quite an ordeal.

When the woman asked how I liked that album after the next Sunday Service, I told her as politely as I could that I didn't enjoy it. She gave the LP to her nephew when I returned it to her.

On the other hand, a good example of a well-written book is In Search of Truth by T. L. Wiens. It's a fictional account of an abused girl who ends up on the street. Bad church experiences turned her away from Christianity but the example of caring believers eventually lured her to the point where she made Christ her Lord. Then things really got interesting.

The story is a perfect example of showing rather than telling. Even better, this is the sort of book one could give to unsaved friends since it doesn't wag the finger in the reader's face. Though it does show some believers involved in sin, it also contrasts the Pharisee-like behaviour of legalists with the loving example of committed evangelicals.

I also strove to show rather than to tell what happened to me when I joined a toxic house church. Rather than bash that cult leader and his sheep dog-like elders in my memoir, I let them "incriminate" themselves through their speech and actions. How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity is available from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Virtual bookworm Publishers.

Bruce Atchison is a legally-blind freelance writer as well as the author of How I Was Razed, Deliverance from Jericho, and When a Man Loves a Rabbit. He lives in a small Alberta hamlet with his house rabbit, Deborah.

Burnout by T. L. Wiens

The last few months have been a struggle for me where my writing is concerned. My focus is gone. Even more than that, I have no desire to focus. Some have told me it’s writer’s block but I call it burnout. Burnout comes with another unwanted struggle―depression.

Writing helps me avoid depression. I can throw all my turmoil onto a page and see it from a different perspective. God speaks to me through my writing. What do you do when your body is so tired, you can’t get the words to page? The vicious circle has been my companion for too long.

I think about quitting writing. It isn’t going to happen—even in my depressed, unable to write state, I know writing is a part of me. Maybe I should try another genre. The words don’t come. My frustration rises and my depression deepens. Quitting won’t work but I can’t seem to get the energy to sit at the computer.

Then, like crocuses poking up through the cold ground, ideas sprout. I manage to sit down and type a few words. I go through some old writing and do some editing. I feel a new breath of life in me. Not wanting to rush my healing body, I take a few pages at a time. It will take awhile before I get close to my old schedule. Then again, maybe the old schedule brought me to the dark place I’m just escaping.

I don’t know the answers to avoiding burnout or writer’s block. What this time away from writing has done for me is confirm I am a writer. I may not publish another book or story but I will always write. God has given me this gift and I must make sure I’m using it to His glory. Maybe that’s the part I forgot that led to the burnout.

Rebuilding by T. L Wiens

I want to say thank you to everyone for your prayers and thoughts as we dealt with the loss of the roof of our house.

This isn’t the first time my family has experienced this type of loss. Our house burned down a few years ago. We lost everything or did we? In fact, eight days after our fire we were back in a house given to us by a wonderful family. Friends, family and neighbors filled it. We lacked nothing. If God can do that, I knew He had a plan with this latest excitement. Once again, I saw Him restore and teach me through a difficult time. Matthew 6: 19 which says, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal:” makes a lot of sense to me. Don’t get a strangle hold on things because they can be gone in a moment.

However, there are things that aren’t easily replaced. One of those is reputation. How we endured the hardships is far more important than the things we lost.

As a writer, I see a lot of parallels to these life experiences. A rough manuscript can be rebuilt with the help of an editor but writing that doesn’t honor God is a different story. A Christian writers, I think we have to stand up for the message God has given us to write about even when what we write may not be the popular idea of the day. In the grand scheme of things, the most important thing is to honor God in all things.

How to Love - T.L. Wiens

Has the church forgotten how to love? I ask myself this often. If we have, then are we even Jesus Christ’s church?

In Matthew 22: 35-40, we have this familiar passage:

Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying, Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.”

In Corinthians, we have another instruction on love.

“Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular. And God hath set some in the church, first apostles, secondarily prophets, thirdly teachers, after that miracles, then gifts of healings, helps, governments, diversities of tongues. Are all apostles? are all prophets? are all teachers? are all workers of miracles? Have all the gifts of healing? do all speak with tongues? do all interpret? But covet earnestly the best gifts: and yet shew I unto you a more excellent way. Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.

Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.” ~ I Corinthians 12: 27-31, 13: 1-8

We have these last words in chapter 12: “And yet shew I unto you a more excellent way.” Then we launch into I Corinthians chapter 13; the love chapter. We hear it often at weddings but this isn’t a passage about marriage. This is about our life in Christ or it should be.

As writers and Christians, does the love come through? True love—not the wishy washy, please like me, kind of love that kills. Do I truly love as Christ loves me?