Influence and Ideas by Lorilee Guenter

 

Charlotte's Web, Winnie-The-Pooh, Anne of Green Gables. Louisa may Alcott, J. R. R. Tolkien, Janette Oke. Mystery, biography, science fiction. The list of books, authors and genres I have and do read is immense. My summertime reading list grows each day. I do not read horror and I usually shy away from romance because I do not like the explicit scenes but otherwise it is probably fair game. Reading opens new words and introduces ideas. it has since I sounded out my first words. I learned words have the power to captivate, to inform and to transform. They have power to report and transport, to encourage or discourage. Words have power and why should this surprise any of us since The Word created the world and has enabled writer's to create worlds of imagination.

I did not and do not hesitate to call myself a reader. Books, essays, magazines, they surround me as my to be read pile and my have finished reading lists vie for first place in size and scope (but can the to be read pile ever be depleted?). I have and do hesitate to call myself a writer even though my to type and to edit piles grow. To be a writer requires I acknowledge that my words when put together as essays, stories and poems have the power to build up or tear down. A misplaced word can change the context and cause a reader to stumble and tumble away from The Truth or to reach and to cling to The One who informs and infuses our words when we let Him. It is a huge responsibility. Thankfully it is not ours alone. Each time I pick up a new book to read I immerse myself in the words and worlds of another writer's imagination and influences. 

If the Holy Spirit is prompting and empowering, do I not stumble along in rebellion if I refuse? Do I let fear overwhelm faith when I put down my pen and pick up distraction? I wonder how many books could have been but aren't because other writer's have done as I do and questioned the need to, and their ability to share their words. So with hesitation and interruption I continue to return to this label. I am a writer. Through my words the Holy Spirit, with The Word can teach or challenge as I encourage or entertain those who read them. As the knights in stories I've read do, I pick up mu ink filled sword to slay the dragon of fear in hopes others will follow my lead and pick up their swords (in whatever form they have been given them). 

2 Timothy 1:7 For God did not give you a spirit of fear (timidity), but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.

After a bit of editing, I will pick up that next book on my pile to read because I am not alone and I still like to get lost in the imagination of others. I am thankful for the many authors who I have reading and am reading. Their influences are many. Their numbers (including the ones just this summer) are numerous.

Valentines Day: Love or . . .

A serious decline in the meaning of love is making Valentine’s a day to be forgotten rather than remembered. In concert with the decline in the Christmas message, love has become a hollow shell that cannot withstand the stresses laid upon it. Just as many lonely people wish they could sleep from December the first until the New Year, too may women would gladly skip Valentine’s Day and the memories it evokes.

Time magazine reports that to celebrate Valentine’s Day, a San Francisco zoo is letting people adopt a cockroach or scorpion in the name of their ex. My guess is more women than men will try it. My experience is that, as a general rule, women give more to a marriage than men—thanks to a compelling nurturing nature. Someone has said that there are no frigid women, only inattentive men.

As long as love and marriage is seen as a place to be served instead of a place to serve, where men need to give their lives daily for their wives, true love will be replaced with a veneer that, husbands hope, gives sufficient incentive to get what they want. Valentine’s Day, like Mother’s Day, easily becomes a substitute for three hundred other days of neglect.

Well, now I’ve let the dogs out, how do I really feel about my Valentine? Inadequate is the first word that surfaces. Why did I take so long to understand what a husband’s love really is? That’s as much an upward learning curve for Christians as its decline is for an unbelieving culture. 

For me, even sixty years of marriage is insufficient. Although I sense it, I doubt I’ll ever show my full appreciation for her years of selfless service. Not a lack of desire, but lack of ability and the distraction of other things, however necessary. That has something to do with my fallen nature—not an excuse, any more than a fallen nature is an excuse for sin. 

But I hope recognition of my inadequacy will at least explain my failure. All parents in later years regret those ways they failed their children. Can I ever shake off a similar regret of failing my wife? That leads me to seek forgiveness from my Valentine—a broken expression of my love. 

Come to think of it, perhaps that—forgiveness—is the real meaning of Valentine’s Day.

Ministry in Many Forms-Sulo Moorthy

"How has your pen opened ministry doors for you in ways you never dreamed possible?" was one of the choice of topics Brenda gave us to write about this month.

My writing hasn't extended that far to open doors for me to go on speaking engagements or to put me on book tours from place to place to minister to people through my love of God and skill of writing. When I have no clue how to build up a social network via face book, twitter or any other newly-born technology, it's no use wasting my time in moaning about unopened doors.

Three years ago, I started a writer's group at the suggestion of a dear friend who knew that I was searching to join one. I wouldn't consider our group to be either an affirmation one or a critique one. Because the women in the group are mostly wanna-be writers, they seldom bring  manuscripts to be critiqued or affirmed. It's more of a writing class than a typical writer's group.

If not for the writing exercises they do at the meetings or the assignments I at times request them to do at home, they don't do much writing on their own. Work and family commitments give little time for them to sit and write. But when they are made to write, some write so beautifully that I get reluctant to share mine before them.

Sometimes I do get frustrated for doing all the coaxing and seeing little or no outcome. There were times I questioned myself as to why I'm still continuing with what I do. What was I getting out of this writer's group in regard to my own progress? Probably, not much. But at the same time, I cannot forget the friendships I've gained from these seven women who come faithfully every month to meet with other writers.

However, now having completed three years of leading the writer's group, I was thinking of quitting my undertaking this Fall.  Then I received an e-mail from one of the women in my writer's group for whom I had sent an e-mail wishing her on her birthday and complimenting her on the assignment she wrote and  shared with us at our last meeting. My eyes teared up when I read the last two lines of her e-mail.

It read," You are the reason I keep coming back, your faith in our Lord and in each of us. This is a great calling you are fulfilling in your life, among other things."

How could I ever think of quitting after reading something like this?  Kay's words reminded me of another woman, who had penned me something in similar tone thirteen years ago. I've kept her card inside my Bible as a keepsake all these years.

I met Elizabeth at the Read Saskatoon volunteers' meeting. At that time, I had just finished my writing course with Institute of Children's Literature and had published a poem and an article in two magazines. When Elizabeth overheard me telling someone about my writing interests, she approached me to know more about it.

On and off, both of us met at a coffee shop or library to talk about books, faith, health and so on. We would have met five or six times  at the most, for soon Elizabeth had to leave for Ontario where her husband had got a new job. On the last day we met, she gave me a huge hug and handed me a lovely card. I've kept her card inside my Bible, so that whenever I get discouraged as a writer, I could find some comfort and encouragement in reading Elizabeth's beautifully handwritten words.

 I'll let you read a part of what she wrote so that you can understand why her card has become a favorite  keepsake of mine.

" I believe everything happens for a reason! I believe the purpose of me joining "Read Saskatoon" was to meet you...

You shared with me your love of writing and encouraged me to do the same - I dared to take a bold step of faith ... started to put pen to paper and the words started to spill out like a torrent. I finally found great expression in my writing - My journey has just begun!"

I do not know how far the journey has gone, for we haven't kept in touch with each other after Elizabeth left Saskatoon. But I know for sure, wherever she may be today, she'll still be writing.

As writers, as well as ambassadors of Christ, we do not know when, where, and how the seeds we sow will take root, put out shoots and bring forth fruits. It need not be our concern either. The world may not recognize the process of sowing or watering as ministry unless there is something for show and tell in the public arena.

As writers, we do thrive on words of encouragement and appreciation. Otherwise, we easily give into self-doubts and discouragement. That's why I've kept Elizabeth's card as a keepsake.

In Oswald Chamber's words, "We consider what we do in the way of Christian work as service, yet Jesus Christ calls  service to be what we are to Him, not what we do for Him." (My Utmost for His Highest, June 19)