In the Middle of Excuses by Lorilee Guenter

 

There are many projects on my work in progress pile. I am convinced I always will have a long list of projects. In fact, at least for me, this is a good thing. If I no longer have an in progress list, I am no longer trying new things and starting new writing or art. 

There are many ideas I never started. Some of those ideas I can no longer remember even vague details. I assume they are not important for me to work on at this time. I may have missed a window to work or they may just have been random ideas. I don't need to remember every idea. They are not all for me to work on. I also have unstarted projects or unaddressed ideas that continue to surface, as if nagging me to give them attention. I think these projects, though not officially started, belong on my work in progress list because I continue to give mental space to them.

The middle contains the mess. I need to make choices with regards to this list. I have made many excuses over the years for why things are not finished. My excuses often masquerade as good reasons. The need to finish research has stalled a few projects. The need to clean up a space to spread out a sewing project is another excuse dressed up as a reason. If I really wanted to I could make space long enough to finish, instead I hold back and hold onto the excuse. If the research isn't started; if space is not made or time set into the schedule; they all become an excuse. I am good at making excuses and disguising them. A few years ago I read a book that challenged me to test each reason and consider if the reason is really an excuse. In other words, does my reason have an excuse or a series of excuses holding me back from taking the next step. Almost always, the answer for me, is yes. 

Now that I have analysed down to the root of why projects remain on my work in progress pile, I can take steps to remove the excuses and work back up the chain until I have what I need to move the process forward. I wish I could say I recognize the excuses and root them out with action. I don't until I begin to become frustrated with a lack of progress finishing anything.

Excuses are only one cause of unfinished projects taking up space in my house and on my computer. Some things are not meant to be finished. This a category for me to use because it can excuse a lack of follow through. I have writing that when I pull it out to work on, I find it is not worth finishing. It was an exercise I needed at the time I started it. It taught me something. I return these to the unfinished pile in case God prompts me to go back to them to add to them or pull out character ideas from them. Mostly these are finished because they served their purpose, I just did not recognise that purpose at that time. It is easy for me to let fear move too many things into this category. Once that happens I have moved back into the territory of excuse. 

I am a work in progress. I make excuses. I let fear hold me back. I choose to let roadblocks stall projects that need to be completed. I hold onto project too long once they need to be released. Thankfully my Creator doesn't stop part way, he knows what to hold onto and what to release. Philippians 1:6 reminds me that God doesn't stop. He works on and with His creation until it is complete. He walks with me through the messy middles of life and writing. When I let Him, He resolves the tension of the messy middle by showing me the fear and excuses holding me back. Then He guides me through them.

Today I'm letting Him guide me and teach me through the projects I work on. Tomorrow I will have a choice to continue or to try to do it my way. Each day I choose to let God remove the excuses it is easier to hear His voice and follow His leading so that when tomorrow becomes today, I will once again let Him guide and teach me.

Truth-telling - Marnie Pohlmann

My blog post for today is late. I did not procrastinate - much, but I am hesitant to share my thoughts on the power of words. Words are so powerful they change lives. God is the power of words of Truth. I am still working through my view on the appropriate use of truth-telling.  But with trepidation, may I present a different view than most of the posts this month?

When I speak,
I often say the wrong thing or use the wrong words or have the wrong tone, even when speaking Truth. I am not understood. Sometimes it is like I’m speaking a different language, trying to make my point. If I am not with people, there is less opportunity to offend with my words, right? Perhaps that is the true reason I am an introvert - fear.

When I write,
I am also afraid, of putting words in black and white - they may last for eternity, always to be referred to as proof I was wrong, or unkind, or selfish, or whatever else was lacking in me at the time of writing. I was silenced from speaking the truth of my life for many years, so putting it onto the stone tablet for sharing is especially frightful. Of course, conversing in laughter, or writing creative fiction of some sort is safer. Those times and writings are fun.

I am not the happy sunflower type of Christian. I am prone more to being a weedy Christian - like dandelions. Sometimes bright, sometimes fun, but still considered a pest when I blow up when I attempt to spread seeds of Truth that are meant to multiply, to influence near and far, but are not liked.

I think when I act or speak or write in ways that offend others, there are three reasons.

1) I am still responding to the trauma of my childhood, to lies that were set into my being as beliefs. My whole adult life I have been dealing with capturing and learning Truth to combat those lies, and some are so deeply entrenched I expect to spend the rest of my life digging them out when I recognize them.

2) Again because of my childhood, I feel silenced, unheard, not valued, until I cannot stand it anymore and blurt out my thoughts. Having spent time with those thoughts inside me, I have often dissected them enough to have compared them to Scripture and am convinced of their Truth. But the delivery means the Truth is not always heard.

3) The third reason that others may be offended by what I write is that it hits them squarely between the eyes as Truth.

We are often told to “sandwich” criticism as a layer set between encouragements, or to at least find ways to say it kindly. When speaking or writing Truth, though, especially when speaking into the life of another, whether we know them or not, there are times when kind words mask the truth, couching it to make it seem not too important or necessary to respond to.

So how do you correct, criticize, reprimand, or discipline others when it is needed?

What would Jesus say?
The red words in our Bibles do not always sound kind. Jesus was compassionate to the lost who sought him. The writers of the Gospels record many incidents of this. But they also recorded some of Jesus’ harsh words to his disciples and the leaders of religion. He was not kind. He was straightforward, reprimanding, even name-calling! A few examples?

1)     Jesus told the disciples that what God did in the life of another disciple was none of their business (John 21:20-23) 

2)      He suggested to the quibbling disciples that neither of them may be qualified to sit at his side in the coming Kingdom. To seek position is not what is important, but God Himself would decide (Mark 10:35-45. Matthew writes it was their mother who asked Jesus if her sons could sit at his side, but Mark attributes the question to the brothers themselves.)

3)      Jesus called the Pharisees names, like the “offspring of vipers.”  (Matthew 23:13-36)

So, I ask, is it appropriate to speak or write words of Truth that will and do offend others?
More examples, these from Paul.

1)      Paul tells Christians he will deal sharply with them if things have not changed before he arrives. (2 Cor 13:10) That sounds harsh, doesn't it?

2)      Paul tells others to correct and rebuke those (other believers) who sin. (1 Tim 5:20, Titus 2:15)

We all know any correction is difficult to take. Those red pen marks from an editor are difficult for writers but are meant to be helpful, so we accept them. If they are suggestions or general comments, we may not take them seriously. If they are definite, like “no comma needed,” we are likely to concede the editor is correct. Even if a non-writer, non-editor, reader makes a comment that “This sentence is hard to read,” we will take a good look at it. It does not matter so much who gives correction, we still need to look at it and decide if it is applicable to us.

Being reprimanded is even more difficult than correction. Yet again, reprimands are sometimes necessary. While correction is helping us be better, a reprimand is telling us we are wrong and need to change something. In our writing, if we make a historical error, we may receive a reprimand that we did not fact-check so are misrepresenting the truth. In business, we may receive a reprimand for a mistake that costs money, time, or clients. These are examples of stating a fact - this is the truth, this is what you did or what happened or what your actions caused while telling us we need to correct it or at least own it and not repeat it.

We can and hopefully do learn from our mistakes without others always pointing them out, but sometimes we have a blind spot that keeps us from recognizing we are doing wrong. Someone may need to point it out. I believe it is a believer’s responsibility to correct and reprimand our eternal fellow-travelers in The Way. The fruits of the Spirit are to be sought, learned, and practiced, absolutely. But does it not also take correction and reprimand to sometimes help us learn to put into practice those fruits?

While I believe in practicing kind words, I also believe there is a time and place to give and receive a reprimand. With this, there are also cautions I am learning.

1)      Ensure you are not criticizing from a gut reaction that may be guided by faulty beliefs on your part.

2)      Think it through and know why you are convinced “someone” should say “something” to correct another. Remember that like needs, if you are the one who sees it, you are probably the one God is calling to do it.

3)      Speak Truth plainly, with clear honesty, calling sin what it is. Do not make a rebuke into a suggestion.

Are we able to be kind in rebuking others?
I hope so. But like using words in speech or writing, we need to practice so we get better. At first, we may be a little weedy. Others will be offended no matter how it is done if they are convicted by the Truth of the words, but we cannot learn if we do not practice. (In my opinion) Christians are too willing to reprimand non-believers and excuse believers, rather than love non-believers and reprimand those in their local church family.

As I said, I am not good at reprimanding. I do not want to do it. Someone in a position of authority, or knowledge, or with a closer relationship should say what needs to be said. God can do this through His Word, even, or through those who He has placed in authority. However, God does not usually choose the mighty to battle wrongdoing. He sends the child, the weak, and the broken to show His strength and Glory in the battle.

God sends you and me to reprimand others. He sends others to reprimand us. God asks us to use our words to give both Life-giving Love-Truth and Life-giving Discipline-Truth. This is partly why both speaking and writing words can be scary. Others may be blessed, but they may also be offended. 

Is it a risk you will take?

An open rebuke
is better than hidden love.
Prov 27:5

Writing My Way Through Grief by Nina Faye Morey

My life has changed dramatically since I lost my loving husband and soulmate to cancer in April. Since then, I’ve found myself wandering through a desolate landscape filled with grief and loss, searching for the light that will lift me up out of this deep well of darkness.

I know that I must adapt my life to this new and challenging landscape, but my negative feelings—grief, fear, worry, anxiety, depression and loneliness—have caused me to lose my way. These debilitating emotions have also made it next to impossible for me to write. However, I’ve slowly come to realize that if I can refocus my writing to address my grief and loss, it may shed some light on my feelings that will help me work my way through this grieving process.

The empty page seems like a safe and comfortable place to pour out my feelings, but it requires a willingness to delve deep into this darkness that envelopes me. I will need to face my feelings of grief and loss, my fears, my worries, and my anxieties. I’ll need to summon the inner strength to explore and deal with the overwhelming emotions that writing about my grief evokes. I know it will not be easy. But if I’m brave enough, the process of writing may offer some relief from my sorrow and provide the healing needed to find my way out of this deep well of darkness.

While writing my way through grief may offer some measure of release and healing, my main source of comfort still comes through Bible study and prayer. I know that I do not have to deal with these feelings of grief and loss alone. Psalm 34:18 (NIV) assures me that “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” I can rely on Him and His word to provide me with the comfort, peace, strength, guidance, and support that I need. Jesus promises “Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4). If I pour out my grief to Him through prayer, I know that He will be faithful to heal my broken heart and bind up my wounds (Psalm 147:3). When I am afraid, I can ask Him to calm my fears and give me “the peace of God, which transcends all understanding (Philippians 4:7).

Although writing my way through grief may be therapeutic, helping me to cope with my negative thoughts and feelings, I know that ultimately it is through faith and prayer that God will rescue me from this deep well of darkness and lift me up into the glory of His light once more.

Reflecting by Lorilee Guenter

Promises Kept 

 "For I have not given you a spirit of fear (timidity), but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-control." (self-discipline) 2 Timothy 1:7

In January I chose this verse as a focus verse for the year along with the words courage and boldness. At the time no one predicted what was to come during 2020. When I started to reflect on this verse, I thought about changing my habits to care for this gift of life God has given me. I thought about being willing to grasp hold of the opportunities God showed even in uncomfortable situations. I thought about using what I have to build up those around me, to engage with neighbours more, and to continue to look for God's hand in my life and our community. All these happened and so much more.

This year this verse came to mind in unexpected ways and at unexpected times. Even when I prepared to write this post, God reminded me through a podcast that His spirit of power and love and self-control are working through us to accomplish His work. Not only that but He wants to work with us boldly and powerfully.

I clung to Him during the spring shut down. The absence of physical gathering with community highlighted the value of these communities. But our God made us with creativity and we were able to find new ways to gather, new ways to reflect His love. For me it came at great cost to my mental health but not with fear or panic. God gave me peace in place of panic. Peace I could then share with others.

As we were forced to give up distractions, I was surprised by new things, new opportunities. I had the courage to say yes to telling Bible stories for our Sunday School via video using my art and a basic script. I have been encouraged to share my art in other ways I had never considered. My first response to these opportunities was to be hesitant. When I was asked the same question by three people about an art related possibility, I knew I need to trust God and step into this role with boldness.

I do not know what God will do with any of these things. Some of the things God has shown me this year have been huge, some small. Through it all, at various times and in various ways, I have been reminded that God is at work. He will use what I give Him in unexpected ways. Through His power and love even the small steps of courage through faith will reflect His glory.

As we step towards a second shut down, I continue to trust god will continue to work with me and through me. Where that leads I have no idea, but He does. His power will replace panic with peace, fear with faith.

Perspective by Pamela Mytroen

Perspective

I stepped over the edge

slipped on fear-pebbles.

They bounced and tumbled 

into the yawning canyon

plip-plopping into the river

below

I soared

on the warm updraft of confidence

until I squinted down

and crashed 

on rocks of doubt

I limp in the valley

of shame

surrounded by 

heckling coyotes

laughing hyenas

wishing I could 

crawl back to my nest

and hide

though gangly,

 my feet and feathers

are much too big now

my nest is too narrow

I look up

A new precipice invites me

beneath a witness of stars

I'm climbing now.

I will ascend until I taste

the pure air of perspective 

I will consider the white clouds I floated on

the blue sky I dove through

the fading jet-trail I wrote 

in big gauzy letters 

of faith

 

Will I step over the edge 

and fly again?

I'm surprised I even tried

I never knew I had wings

Maybe

I just need 

more practice

 

In the Midst of Fear By Vickie Stam

I didn't hear God calling me that day back in 2016. My husband, Tony and I were attending our friend's 50th Anniversary celebration and were about to leave the church fellowship hall when Tony started talking to our friend's son, Dave. 

It's not surprising, Tony is quite the social butterfly and I sometimes think he doesn't like to leave any place until he has mingled with everyone in the room. I sat back down and continued talking with a girlfriend until I noticed that Tony and Dave had finished chatting.

We weren't even out of the parking lot when Tony announced, "Vickie.... we are going on a missions trip to Cuba!" The word, 'we' mortified me. "You are, but I'm not." I said without hesitating. Tony went on to describe what the trip would involve as if he hadn't heard me tell him that I was NOT going. 

Being a farmer, Tony was especially excited about the agriculture in Cuba and the farmers who were looking for help to purchase more land, grow crops and support themselves. The program was designed to help people expand or set up a new business and suddenly Tony had developed a strong desire to support the people in Cuba. I felt blindsided by all of his enthusiasm. 

"God called you to go, not me!" I exclaimed with a different sort of passion. You see, we had been to Cuba on a vacation just a few years before that and the entire time that we were there, I suffered from a painful heat rash and other traveling ailments that come when you travel to a foreign country. I just remember wanting to go home. I remember the afternoons I spent in our rented condo crying for God to make me feel better. How could Tony ask me to go back there? 

Our thirty minute car ride home felt much longer than normal. There was an uncomfortable silence that filled the air between us. Every time I looked over at Tony behind the wheel, I could see the disappointment on his face. I looked away and struggled to hold back the tears. Out of the blue, our once happy day turned bad. We were at an impasse, one that I feared was going to cause us a great deal of pain before it got better. 

When we arrived home, Tony continued to plead with me to go to Cuba. Now I was wondering why God would allow this to happen to me. My fear was turning to anger. I just wanted to go in the other room and hide. By the end of the day, I felt the weight of our conversation still bearing down on me. I sensed the only relief would be to give in, please my husband and God - even though I did not want to. 

A few weeks later, with Tony standing at my side I reluctantly signed all the paperwork and committed to going. It didn't relieve the pressure I felt. I still didn't want to go. In-fact, I felt a higher level of fear come to live with me. 

But once I was there, there was no turning back. I know that God used me in ways that I never would have imagined. The weather was actually cool for Cuba. There were a dozen of us on this trip and everyone else complained about the lack of heat. All the while I was feeling elated inside by God's goodness. "Just ask Vickie to pray for that. She seems to have a direct line to God," the others teased. I laughed because I knew they were all just kidding even if they really were hoping for warmer weather. In that moment, I thanked God and asked for the continued blessing of the cooler temperatures.

And I wasn't alone in my fear. Another woman on the trip had been battling with depression and anxiety for a few years already and also went because her husband wanted her to go - not because she felt God calling her. We immediately gravitated to each other. We became fast allies with more than one purpose in mind. "We can do God's work and support each other on the journey," we whispered to each other so no one would hear us. It didn't take us long to realize that God had put us together.  

I took all of my travel medication, I prayed for good health, for the people traveling with us, for the projects we were going to see and for the government to not witness us being the hands and feet of Jesus because they would be opposed to our mission.

It really was a 'vision trip.' Tony and I were thankful to have the financial means to go on the trip and to contribute to a couple of the micro-finance projects that we visited while we were there. Yes, God me gave the strength and support I needed to go on this trip. 

He opened my eyes to a world I would have otherwise never seen, a world outside of a vacation resort - the real world. A witness to the raw poverty of people with so very little, to a horse collapsing in the middle of the street from pure exhaustion because the owner needed the horse to work, to the injustice of their government against its people when they refused the farmers the feed they needed for their hog operation. And yet - I remember the smiles hugs and love we shared with those people. I truly felt that even in the midst of my fear God used me to do his work.   

A little salt goes a long way by Pamela Mytroen

I don’t see God’s supernatural hand when I’m in the midst of a storm; I see it after the calm. After that wounded day of 9/11 in September of 2001, I had responded by writing an article, which I had taken to our local newspaper. It was rejected. However, I was offered a job as a correspondent, which softened the “blow”. I began writing feature pieces for the paper but I was restless. I desired to share Christ with my community, to point the way to Truth.   

The world’s thinking had shifted as the smoke from 9/11 dissipated into the clouds. Christ was embraced at first as people grieved, but the thunder of suspicion and skepticism towards Christianity began to rock our world. I felt that if I didn’t quickly share truth with people, that our chances might crumble like the twin towers. The editor had assigned me to write human interest pieces and I was not allowed to venture out of that role. How could I write for Jesus in our paper now? 

Previously, the Pastors of our community had written a weekly column in the paper, but over time, as the Pastors moved on and a new editor was hired, that column disappeared. I longed to see God’s Word in print, taking on advertisements and news. I began to pray about it and God began to nudge me to take action.  

God whispers, seldom shouts, but it’s a whisper made of fire that burns deeply. I don’t like to be the one to give feet and action to my dreams, but God believes in us; isn’t that amazing? So He wouldn’t let go. I was and still am fearful about leading. A storm of doubt always rages inside me when I need to talk to people and make something happen, but God’s whisper had shot through me and I needed to obey.  

I could send an email to the newspaper office with my desire to see this column start up again. No, too impersonal. Or I could call. Again, too easy for the editor to say, “no.” I knew I had to go in person, which unsettled my stomach. I approached one pastor and shared my idea. He liked the idea of writing for the paper, but said he was too busy to help me. So I approached another pastor, who was very young, and new in his position. “Yes, of course, I’d be happy to come with you.” I suspected that our inexperience and youth wouldn’t stand a chance against this seasoned, curmudgeonly editor. I’d been told that the new editor was very secular and wanted nothing to do with Christianity in her paper. “She will run you out of her office,” one said. Another said, “She won’t publish anything Christian. I’ve been trying for 3 years.” I really hoped the editor wouldn't be there when we went to see her or that the office would burn down before we arrived. Anything to avoid being chased from her presence. Just before we went to the Times, this young pastor and I bowed our heads and prayed that God would open the hard heart of this editor. 

We were ushered into The Editor's office. She jabbed at her keyboard as we stood before her. She asked what we wanted while she scrolled through her screen, harrumphing and sighing. We sat down. She looked at us over her glasses and I shared how I would like to see this type of column start up again. The young pastor enthusiastically talked about his ideas of writing for the Times. 

I will always remember what happened next. The editor crossed her arms over her chest and stared at us. She said nothing. The silence condemned me – why did I think this had been a good idea? Then, she leaned back in her chair. It was one of those reclining office chairs. She kept her arms folded and continued to stare at me. My perspiring hands slipped on the plastic arms of the chair. Not only would she reject this crazy idea, but she would probably not trust me to write any more feature pieces. Her chair creaked as she leaned forward, preparing to announce her judgment. I uncrossed my legs, and planted my feet, ready to flee from her presence. 

The words she said burned their way into my imagination and seared my doubts to a crisp. “Yes,” she said, picking up her pen. “That is exactly what our paper has been missing.” 

The young pastor, who had believed all along, chatted with her and they began to put plans in place. It would be called, “Pass the Salt” The word count would be 300 and pastors from a variety of denominations in town would take their turn writing every week. About that time I began to breathe again and we left the office together. That was almost 20 years ago.

The salt is still being "passed" every single week. Storms continue to happen since 9/11, but during every one that our nation, province, or community endures, the Word of God is shared by our pastors. Like a rainbow, it arches over the fear and devastation and gives hope and light to our community. 

As I look back I see that although God’s whisper is so gentle, and can be snuffed out, that is how He guides me. He is so wise. He fought the battle in the heart of an editor. He paved the way to transform lives, and all He asked of me was that I take His hand, go along with Him that day, and watch Him do something amazing. We serve an extraordinary God who whispers calm into a storm. 

No Fear - Marnie Pohlmann

Have you ever been afraid?

Not the my-brother-jumped-out-and-scared-me-fear but life-changing fear. When-your-heart-is-pounding-so-loud-you-are-sure-everyone-can-hear-it fear. Running-through-prickly-brambles-to-get-away fear. Hitting-and-kicking-fighting-for-your-life fear. Unable-to-move-holding-your-breath fear. Wide-eyed, unbelievable fear.

I have been afraid. Childhood fear of a late-night visitor. Parent fear of my blue-tinged baby girl not breathing in her crib and fear of my unborn son not living to birth. Fear of my husband not living through a motorcycle accident, and of him needing a ventilator to keep breathing, and of him not beating cancer. I have been afraid for myself and for others.

Today, we see many people are in fear. Fear of an invisible illness. Fear for loved ones who are at risk. Fear of losing investments, their job, or their home. Fear of the change this pandemic is forcing in the way things work in our world. Fear of today and for the future, for themselves, and for others.

We hear both Christians and non-believers fearing this pandemic indicates the end times. We see people angry at the restrictions placed on their lives. We see them attacking the ones they love and those they do not even know. We hear of those who are taking drastic, fatal measures to end their uncertainty. We see hopelessness.

How did the disciples feel after the death of Jesus, before the women burst in to tell them Christ has risen?  Most of the disciples were gathered, hiding in fear. Fear of being arrested and put to death, as their Rabbi had been. Grieving all their expectations of the future that were not to be. Confused at the change of burying their Saviour brought to what they believed. Fear of what that loss meant for them, and for their community. Perhaps they were even hopeless.

But the relief when they finally understood what their loss had accomplished! Christ defeated death, has risen, and provided the only sacrifice suitable and needed in order to bring us once again into the presence of God. Sadness and despair ended when the Spirit of God brought power into the room, into these believers.

This was life-changing. This was world-changing! 

Some of you have recently participated in the season of Lent, and although we have since celebrated Easter, you may still feel that we remain in Lent. Sacrificing and waiting. Or do you feel like the disciples in those hours between Jesus’ death and the confirmation of his resurrection? Confusion, uncertain of what to do, and fearful. Even questioning if what you believe is true or makes any difference at all to your life, to the world?

I urge you to think instead of “the rest of the story.” Christ is risen. The Spirit of God is with us, in us. When the disciples experienced this the world was changed, and the difference it made in their lives is the difference it can make in our lives today.

Yes, situations that cause fear can and will enter our lives. Even as followers of the All-powerful, Sovereign God, we will still experience times of fear. Does fear in your life make you flee, fight, or freeze? These are common, expected responses, yet believers are not called to any of these responses.

God asks us to face fear by standing firm, being at peace, and sharing.

God said to Joshua, and says to us,

“Do not be afraid. Do not be discouraged. Be strong and courageous.”

(Joshua 10:25a NIV)

Jesus said to his disciples, and this same message is to believers today,

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the

world gives. Do not let your heart be troubled, and do not be fearful.”

(John 14:27 NIV)

Whether or not we can leave our homes, we can still “go into all the world” to share the Good News. This is an opportunity to show, to live, the Hope we have. This Hope provides a changed life despite and beyond illness, isolation, and despair. As Christian writers, we already have the tools needed, in a time of socially distant relationships, to share this Hope.

Hope that is life-changing. Hope that is world-changing!

Friend, we can live today with no fear. Be confident in and share the Hope and Peace of God.

Pictures courtesy of Pixabay.com

Marnie Pohlmann lives, works, and writes in northern British Columbia, presently from home. While she has not posted on her personal blog, Phosphorescent, for a long while, perhaps the present pandemic changes to how we communicate will encourage her to share in that way more often. After all, this post suggests we as Christian writers are called to do just that, each in our unique way.

Hope Beats Fear by Nina Faye Morey

Long ago God spoke in many different ways to our fathers

through the prophets, in visions, dreams, and even face to face,

telling them little by little about his plans.

~ Hebrews 1:1 TLB

“Hope Beats Fear” is the title of an article I wrote about my personal struggle coping with cancer that was published in the February 2014 issue of the Canadian Messenger. The goal of this monthly magazine was to help readers with their daily Christian living. This article was one of several articles and short stories that I was fortunate to have published in this magazine.

When I first received my devastating cancer diagnosis, I felt a deep sense of fear. My reason for sharing my story with others facing this kind of fear was to speak to them about the comfort I experienced when I placed myself in God’s hands and refused to let my fear evaporate my hope and erode my faith. Therefore, it was extremely gratifying when I received this comment from the magazine’s associate editor: “…one of the most uplifting articles I have ever read.”

For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God’s word,

but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, 

in the sight of God we speak in Christ.

~ 2 Corinthians 2:17 ESV

God made me a writer. As a Christian, I believe He has called me to use my gift with words to serve Him and minister to others. God intends me to use my creativity not only as a means of self-expression, but also as a way to speak to others about Him and His Word, so they might come to know Him and develop a relationship with Him. He wants me to bear witness to the marvelous things He has done and is doing in my life. Like the fishermen He called to be His apostles, God calls ordinary people like me to share our stories and our faith as a form of Christian ministry.

Declare his glory among the nations,

His marvelous works among all the peoples!

~ Psalm 96:3

In today’s high-tech world, God has opened up countless opportunities to witness to people around the globe. We no longer have to rely on someone else to publish our words. For a while now, the Holy Spirit has been urging me to write and self-publish my work in books and ebooks, in online newsletters and magazines, and on my own and others’ blogs or websites. Consequently, I’ve been researching how to set up my own blog/website, commenting more on other’s blogs, and considering joining social media sites like Twitter and Facebook. But I’ve wavered due to my fears about having an online voice. Internet trolls love to tear down others rather than lift them up. I need to keep reminding myself that my focus is to share God’s love, not to receive “likes” on Facebook.

Therefore encourage one another

and build each other up,

just as you are doing.

~ 1 Thessalonians 5:11

So, once again, I must place myself in God’s hands and refuse to let my fear

override my hope. God knows there is plenty of trouble and suffering in this world (John 16:33), so He calls on us to encourage one another daily (Hebrews 3:13). I don’t need a theological degree to witness for Christ. The gospel message is simple: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). I only need to pray for the Holy Spirit to speak to me; to guide me to the right words and scriptures at the right time. Therefore, I’ll continue to use my gift to the best of my ability and rely on God to take care of the rest.

Images: Pixabay

Living in Faith Rather than Fear by Nina Faye Morey

I memorized Psalm 23 at a very young age. I don’t remember the reason—perhaps I just loved its message and the sound of the words. Whenever my life seemed to be falling apart, it would resurface in my thoughts. I’d find myself reciting it over and over again to myself. It always had a calming effect on my soul.

After being diagnosed with breast cancer in 2010, I was scared. But I didn’t have a lot of time to spend processing this new twist of fate. This life-threatening crisis meant that I immediately began a hectic round of medical appointments, examinations, and tests. Shortly afterwards, I took my first tentative steps into uncharted territory—a full year of cancer treatments. This first phase of my cancer journey passed by in a blur of fear and anxiety.

Once I got over the initial shock of my diagnosis, I began to rail against God. Why me, God? I lashed out as my heart filled with fear. How could you let this happen, Lord? Why have You abandoned me when I need You most? I simply couldn’t understand why God had seemingly deserted me in my time of crisis. Faith and hope can be difficult to hang onto when you’re faced with cancer.

All too often, clouds of helplessness and hopelessness rolled in, darkening my horizons. They cast their dull gray shadow of uncertainty over my future. I craved that feeling of “normalcy” that had all but vanished. Was this now my “new normal”—living in fear of death? I yearned for the return of some warm rays of sunshine. In those dark moments of desperation, Psalm 23 ran its continuous loop, playing over and over again in my mind—offering me one small ray of hope to cling to.

Having come face to face with the reality and inevitability of my own mortality, I sought comfort in prayer and encouraging Bible verses, such as John 11:25-26 (NIV): “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.”

Although my cancer left me with a heightened degree of uncertainty about my future, I soon realized that no one is guaranteed a long life. I came to view my cancer as somewhat of a blessing in disguise because it offered me an opportunity to renew my life. In his book, At the Will of the Body, cancer survivor and author Arthur Frank said: “Death is no enemy of life; it restores our sense of the value of living. Illness restores the sense of proportion that is lost when we take life for granted.”¹

The truth is that you never completely recover from cancer. It’s a chronic disease that merely goes into remission. Fear of this disease still lurks in the back of my mind like a dangerous predator, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation. Any little ache or pain regurgitates my worry about a cancer recurrence. In order to regain some sense of control over my life, I needed to come to terms with this fear.

I’ve learned to take fear very seriously because of its power to confound my faith. I’ve come to rely on God’s presence and His promises. He offers me the encouragement I need to hang on to hope when faced with life’s challenges. By learning to live in faith rather than fear, I’ve been able to regain my strength, recover my confidence, and recapture my contentment with life.

¹Frank, A. W. (1995). At the Will of the Body: Reflections on Illness. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. p. 120

Photos: 1) Psalm 23 – The Sunday at Home: A Family Magazine for Sabbath Reading, 1880, Public Domain, Wikimedia Commons; 2) Sun Rays – CC Pixabay; 3) Hope – CC Pixabay