A Prayer to the Giver of Words by Lorrie Orr

 

October's Prompt: Believers are told to “give thanks in all circumstances.” Share a story of when you found it difficult to give thanks in your writing life. What did God teach you through that experience?

Photo: Lorrie Orr

Sometimes the words come easily and sometimes they don't. This was a month when writing a post was like pulling teeth. Hence, a prayer, always a good idea.

A Prayer to the Giver of Words

O God and Word come to earth

In your mysterious gifting you have given me the desire

To fashion words into beauty and meaning.

On mornings when the leaves dance in the light,

and my garden is alive with dahlias bright and sprawling cosmos;

when hummingbirds whirr in the top of the birch tree,

and the Dark-eyed Juncos dart in and out of the hedge,

A sense of wellness sinks deep into my being.

Words, like flocks of feathers, alight on the page,

And I am satisfied with their shape.

Yes, I say, and thank you.

 

On mornings when the wind curls around the corners of my soul

And rain batters my heart

When words are mere marks on paper or screen,

ugly and stupid,

when beauty is trapped as I wrestle –

this word or that one,

this sentence here, or there, or nowhere --

I sit empty and frustrated.

Then.

In despair,

I remember your words and I find shelter.

And steadiness. And hope. And love.

I trust you, the giver of blessings and of words,

And I believe beyond my feelings

that in days or weeks or months,

the words will once again fly lightly and land with grace,

shaped into beauty that honours your gift.

Lorrie Orr writes from Vancouver Island, BC.

She is the author of one book, a memoir, Life is Short but Wide,

and has a number of other books waiting to be worked on,

as well as a vast amount of writing in her head.

She also writes on Substack and her personal slice of life blog.

 

A Labour of Love by Bob Jones

The July writing prompt was to share about the first book I wrote and published.

My experience is summed up in four words – A Labour Of Love.

A Lifetime 

Rare is the gift of undeserved presence. As a pastor of thousands of people, there are those who entered my life for a moment, and some for a season, all for a reason, but few for a lifetime. Kristen Miller Fersovitch was for a lifetime.

Thirty-six years ago, our family arrived in Edmonton in August fresh from Montreal, the newest additions to a pastoral staff in a historic church. A portion of my role was to provide Christian education opportunities, especially for children. One of those children was eight years old, a peer to our eldest son, and part of our Sunday School. We had no idea then the incredible influence she would become.

Kristen was born into a musical family with parents who travelled North America, so it was quite natural for her to take centre stage in kids choir presentations, church worship teams, and as a featured soloist in musical performances. She was precocious, strong-willed, a competitive athlete, believer, and fiercely loyal to her younger sister and friends. She was a bit of a handful during her teenage and young adult years, but settled quickly after marrying the love of her life, a fireman and giving birth to three wonderful sons.

Cancer 

You can only imagine the devastation of a diagnosis of cancer, all that this horrible affliction brings, and then a second diagnosis of terminal cancer at the age of 28. She had just delivered their third son, and her eldest son was only five. Prayer, fasting, medical intervention, juicing, trips south of the border for special treatment, and more prayer from around the world, could not keep death at bay from her bedside.

She won the hearts of Edmontonians with her tenacious battle during radiation treatments, losing her hair but never her smile, singing at Christmas on the largest stage in the city in front of thousands with a scarf covering the effects of the radiation. She was candid and bold in publicly sharing her faith, along with producing a CD of songs she wrote about God in her journey. Her voice is still one of my favourites and I can't hear it without tearing up. And I was only her pastor, invited into private, precious moments of family time during her courageous struggle. I never felt I did enough.

When she passed away on Thanksgiving weekend, 2013, her celebration of life was held in the largest church in the city, covered by major news networks, and eulogized by the most popular news anchor in Edmonton, one of many who had become her friend.

During the years of her cancer journey, the most asked questions were, “How does Kristen do it? How does she stay so joyful, optimistic, and hopeful amid such a painful struggle?”

In 2015, the first book I published was in answer to those questions. 

Ornament 

The book was a specially crafted, gift-sized, hard cover, with interior artistry provided by a friend of the family, featuring colour pictures of her life, family, and ministry. The title, Ornament, was the inspiration of another of her friends, because like an Christmas tree ornament, Kristen was “on display for all to see”. Her family gave me permission to include her writing, and her husband wrote the final chapter. Each chapter concludes with a reflection and simple direction about developing a personal faith in Jesus just like Kristen’s.

Kristen was real, far from perfect, but a testament to trusting God even with the struggles of leaving her young family. Carrie Doll of CTV summed up the feelings of so many in her tribute in the book: “She was beautiful and real and funny. She challenged us to live the best life we can—in the face of tragedy, in the face of despair. Not by telling us to, but by leading by example.”

Ornament (access the book on Amazon) caught on and became a Canadian bestseller and was awarded the most inspiring story of 2015 by the Word Guild. Readers loved her story and sent messages of the moving and transformative effect of the book.

All the proceeds from the sale of Ornament: The Faith, Hope and Joy of Kristen Fersovitch, went towards building a trust fund for the post-secondary education of her sons.

Kristen often said during the toughest times, “Even if He doesn’t heal me and I die, I will trust Him.” 

She would want you to know that and to live by that faith, hope, and joy.

Thank you for reading. I would love to connect in the comment section. God bless. 

Vulnerability in One’s Writer’s Voice by Alan Anderson

 

 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”--- Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV)

 

 

The online Cambridge Dictionary describes “vulnerability” in the following way:

 

Vulnerability: “the quality of being vulnerable (= able to be easily hurt, influenced, or attacked), or something that is vulnerable:”

https://dictionary.cambridge.org/dictionary/english/vulnerable

 

Vulnerability in a Question

 

This writer is forever thankful to God for the book The Wounded Healer by Henri J. M. Nouwen. Nouwen poses a thought-provoking question at the beginning of the book and answers it throughout its pages. The question is, “What does it mean to be a minister in contemporary society?” 

(Nouwen, Henri J.M., The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society (Image Doubleday, New York, 1972), p. 3.

 

A major contributor to the development of my voice as a writer was The Wounded Healer, written in 1972. The question Henri Nouwen asks still encourages a response from ministers and other servant-leaders today.

 

Allow me to offer a few brief points on how I answered and reflected on Nouwen’s question.

 

A question to invite vulnerable answers

 

Nouwen’s question intrigues me to this day, years after I read his book. For the sake of this blog post, I thought I would put a little spin on his question.

 

What does it mean to be a writer who is also a Christian in contemporary society?

 

My friends, free your minds to give thought to your answers. What does your call as a writer mean to you? What do the words eager to jump from your brain on to a page want to say to the world, your readers?

 

Here are a few suggestions I offer for your consideration.

 

Write as a “Wounded Healer.”

 

In his reference to Christian ministers, Henri Nouwen notes a particular image in focus throughout his answers to his original question. The image is that of the minister as “the wounded healer.” This is he or she who is aware of one’s vulnerability, one’s woundedness in coming alongside people who suffer. In short, servant-leaders are to recognize themselves as those who also suffer.

 

Every time I sit down to write, I write as a wounded healer. My own experiences of suffering teach me to bring hope to other people who suffer. The call of a Christian writer in the world we live is that of a wounded healer. We suffer, therefore, for the sake of our readers, we write with vulnerability. Our vulnerability brings authenticity, not weakness, to our words.

 

Vulnerability shows honesty in one’s words.

 

While dictionaries portray vulnerability as weakness, one can also harness this “weakness” as a strength. Vulnerability allows us as writers to be unashamed about emotions and the words we commit to a page. Our words can evoke tears, giggles, and deep thoughts. They represent us as writers.

 

Whatever I write, in all its vulnerability, is based on an honest observation of life. Honesty realizes the value vulnerability brings to the words one sends into the world of readers.

 

Vulnerability in one’s writing brings hope

 

A hope I pray for my writing is readers will use my words to wrap around themselves and know they are not alone. This is reason enough to show vulnerability on the page. Vulnerability makes us aware of our limitations and dependence on God’s mercy and grace.

 

Vulnerability in our writing has a hope to wrap our arms around the souls of our readers. The Lord Jesus promised He gives rest to our souls. This blessed rest allows us as writers to show genuine vulnerability in our words to reach the souls of our readers.

 

 

My friends, to write as a wounded healer is honest, hope laden, and shows vulnerability. May it be so with all of us.

 

 

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home with trees all around, where he finds inspiration for his writing. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. Alan is the new BC/Northern Regional Rep. for InScribe. His website is https://scarredjoy.ca.

U is for Undeterred by Bob Jones

Are you in a place where the unexpected has set you back on your heels? Panicked because life threw up a roadblock to your dreams? You’re uncertain about finding a way through. You wonder what God was thinking to allow this to happen.

 

God will make a way.

 

My story is about a detour not a diagnosis, a building not a body. While not life-threatening, the experience with God galvanized our faith to face future threats. In 2006 our newly planted church was situated at the western end of the most northerly avenue in Edmonton. Ours was the only building. Isolated, adjacent to farmers’ fields, with deer and coyotes as our near neighbours. It was a perfect site for growth on 15 acres, with traffic access from a new ring road. Within two years our average Sunday attendance grew from 495 to 900. Three years later we had added a second service and were considering a third. We had momentum. January 2011 was to be a celebration of God’s favour.  

 

The Christmas decorations had just been stored away when a letter arrived from the city of Edmonton. It was a notification of the closure of our avenue during expansion work. The closure would be for one year.

 

What?

 

What were they thinking? How do they expect people to get to church? A hurried meeting with city developers informed us of an error. They had forgotten about our building in their plans. The avenue would be shut down for a year. To help us, the city would pay for signs to direct people through convoluted detours and pay for a temporary road to be built near railroad tracks and through a ditch to access our property. Thank you very much. Subsequent to that, CN informed us they would close the railway crossing at the same time for upgrades. Now we had no access again.

 

Panic.

 

TRUST GOD'S HEART

The city may have forgotten us, but God had not. We discovered that for every setback, God has a greater comeback. God's faithfulness is hope for many detoured by crisis in life. Don Moen’s song, “God Will Make a Way,” became our theme.

 

God will make a way
Where there seems to be no way
He works in ways we cannot see
He will make a way for me

He will be my guide
Hold me closely to His side
With love and strength for each new day
He will make a way, He will make a way.

 

People were praying. CN decided to delay the railway crossing upgrade. We purchased billboard ads in high traffic areas to inform the community we existed and were open. Our leadership determined to at least have some fun with this setback. I crafted a sermon series entitled, “Undeterred.”  We asked the city for orange roadwork barriers, detour signs, and construction equipment and placed those outside our facility entrances, in our lobby, and on our platform. Remarkably, the congregation took this detour in stride and grew in faith and in numbers.

Thirteen years later, people still talk about being undeterred.

 

In the bad news, the good news was the expanded avenue was to accommodate a potential of 450-550 housing starts. Within a couple of years, 4,000 people were living in the new neighbourhood next door. The community now boasts close to 8,000 residents in walking distance of the church. North Pointe was first to the frontier and an anchor point for the community.

 

When I can't trace God's hand I must trust his heart. 

God is too loving to hurt me.

God is too wise to make a mistake.

God's power makes all things possible.

 

My prayer for you is to be undeterred. To embrace God’s love and to know his wisdom. To be comforted so you have the strength to take the next step forward with your faith intact and your eyes on heaven.

 

If I can be of any help or support in your journey, please reach out. Bob.pb.jones@gmail.com or 780-707-5569

O is for Openhearted Ramble: A Writer’s Struggle by Alan Anderson

 

Openheartedness, the free expression of one’s true feelings and opinions, is a strong focus of anything I write. Openheartedness can refer to being blunt or direct, but we do not have to be mean at the same time.

 

A ramble, whether in speech or written word, exhibits an aimless wandering on an erratic path through life. Readers may notice this post rambles.

 

What does a writer do when words will not come?

 

These past eighteen months have been a ramble for me because of a health condition that continues but is undiagnosed to date. I do not mention this for pity but to ask you, dear readers, a question. What does a writer do when words are silent?

 

I have been a contributor to this blog since 2015. This is the first post I have struggled with to write. The words crowding my mind argue with each other. They argue over how openhearted I will be in this post. Some words encourage this writer to be direct. Other words want me to hold back and ramble. How does one cope with such a struggle when words will not cooperate? Perhaps a ramble is the result and has a purpose.

 

Here is another question.

 

What does this writer do when words will not come?

 

An answer to this more personal question is, I write with my vulnerability. In this vulnerability, openheartedness is a companion to my periodic rambles. Today, as I sit with my laptop, it is two days before my post is due. Words in my head seem to have fallen asleep. This leaves me with another question.

 

Have my words abandoned me?

This question is torturous, yet I know words are beautiful. How can I express myself but through words, these darlings within my soul? Here, I continue to write, even words content to ramble.

 

If my words abandoned me, what would I do? Shut up my laptop? Throw away my pens and pencils? Burn my notepads?...No!

 

I pray to God, who has called me to write. I do this not as a simple solution, but for He who understands and cares. Prayer causes me to turn to the Great Author, our Master Creator. Through His words, He spoke all things into being and He can help me resurrect my words. This then causes me to turn to why I write.

 

To Whom I write.

 

I write to help others hope and to know they are not alone. I accept even my rambling has this purpose and is an answer to why I write.

 

I write to encourage those who struggle or feel abandoned by life to know someone cares. They may have ceased to keep their hope. This means my words can arise from their slumber, gather themselves, and realize we are all in the struggle together.

 

Dear writer and reader friends, please know in your struggles there is hope. Your struggles, as in mine, have a purpose even when we do not know what it is at this present time. Reach out to someone if need be and know you are not alone.

 

Take time with your words and love these darlings within your soul.

 

 

Alan lives in a small village called Deroche, British Columbia, with wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He enjoys walking on the dike near his home, where he finds inspiration for his writing. He occasionally writes articles for FellowScript Magazine and is a regular contributor to the InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship blog. His website, https://scarredjoy.ca, is under construction.

L Is For Lamott ~ by Bob Jones

"Hope begins in the dark, the stubborn hope that if you just show up and try to do the right thing, the dawn will come. You wait and watch and work: you don't give up." Anne Lamott

 

"It is a writer’s job to be curious, to observe, to question, to try to better understand and give language to some of the vast and varied ways of being alive in the world. The fear that I will fall short, that I will fail to convey my ideas in a way that resonates with readers, is real and ever-present, but I have realized that it is also part of the draw and the ongoing challenge."
 

Anne Lamott is right up there with my heroes of the faith. 

Anne is a Christian but not your garden variety. She grew with a father who despised Christianity and a mother who attended Episcopal midnight mass on Christmas Eve but she says no one in her family believed in God. Believing meant you were stupid. In 1985 she reversed course and made a confession of faith in Jesus and chronicled her journey in "Travelling Mercies," my introduction to her writing.

Anne is an author, activist, former alcoholic, and Sunday School teacher. Her work is worth a moment of your day. She'll make you laugh (at least smile) or think about life and that will be good for you.

It is for me.

These are some favourite Annie insights.

"Families are hard, hard, hard, no matter how cherished and astonishing they may also be. Remember that in all cases, it's a miracle that any of us were conceived and born. Earth is forgiveness school. It begins with forgiving yourself, and then you might as well start at the dinner table."

In one paragraph, Anne lays out a path forward to address any issue families face. And in general, for any one in a relationship. None of us gets out of life without a scar, usually from someone who loves us or once loved us. 

God is a forgiving God and calls us to model the divine behaviour.

"God just means goodness."  A. Lamott

 

Look Up

"It's really not all that scary. Emerson said that the happiest person on Earth is the one who learns from nature the lessons of worship. So go outside a lot and look up. My pastor said you can trap bees on the bottom of mason jars without lids because they don't look up, so they just walk around bitterly bumping into the glass walls. Go outside. Look up. That's the secret of life."

Don't be a bee. Hope looks up.

Whatever you're facing, wait, watch, and do the next right thing.

The dawn will come.

Fear of Failure

Even Anne, and perhaps because of all her success in writing bestsellers, inspiring fellow writers, and the awards she has won, is not immune to feeling pressured by the fear of failure.

"My fear of failure has been lifelong and deep. If you are what you do - and I think my parents may have accidentally given me this idea - and you do poorly, what then? It’s over; you’re wiped out. All those prophecies you heard in the dark have come true, and people can see the real you, see what a schmendrick you are, what a fraud."

Remember that God sees the real you. He loves the real you. You are the one Jesus died for. And if God did not spare his own son, but gave him up for you - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give you all things?

I agree with Anne, "All I ever wanted since I arrived here on earth are the same things I needed as baby, to go from cold to warm, lonely to held, the vessel to the giver, empty to full."

This month I am in Ukraine sharing with pastors and helping to host McJoyful parties for children. I won't be able to reply to your comments but I will look for them when I return. Thank you for reading. 

Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones.

Bob writes at REVwords.

He is a Jesus follower, husband, dad, grampa, writer, coach.

How to speak of hope when you're scraping the bottom of the well by Mary Folkerts

 

I am so discouraged I have nothing to say.

Sometimes, life has surprise attacks that leave us scrambling after the hope we just recently declared. At other times, it’s a slow drain caused by an infrequent connection with the Source of hope combined with a continual fixation on the things that drag us down. Whatever the case, how can one speak of hope when we’re scraping the bottom of the well, when it feels like the words have dried up and there’s nothing left to say?

David, the author of the book of Psalms, was a man known to voice his discouragements, even while being aware of his ultimate source of hope. In Psalms 22:1, he pours out his heart with, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?” (ESV)

Why is the book of Psalms one of the first books we open when we feel down and discouraged? It’s because we feel a common bond with David as he puts his pain into words. His laments comfort and encourage us because if a man after God's own heart could pour out his doubts and fears to the Lord most high, then maybe it’s okay if we do as well. 

At other times, it’s a slow drain caused 
by an infrequent connection 
with the Source of hope, combined 
with a continual fixation on the things 
that drag us down

As I am comforted by David’s cry and encouraged by his deep understanding of God's care despite his despair, I get a sense of how I could encourage others through my times of struggle.

 

My struggle isn’t only meant to strengthen my faith. As David’s words give us courage, our words can give readers renewed strength to continue amidst their own struggles. Sharing our struggles can help others feel seen and understood. We don’t need resolutions before we can begin sharing our story. We can speak of our times of hopelessness, reminding ourselves and others where we turn for renewed hope and peace. We may not be closer to understanding, but even in the unknown, we can be assured of God’s continued faithfulness through generations to come. 

So let’s not be afraid to tell our story in the middle of our struggle, in the middle of our discouragement and questions. And as Psalm 23 comes after Psalms 22, we can point to the Shepherd who will “restore our souls even in the valleys.”

As we pour out our pain to God, we will find, like David, that we return to the Source of our comfort and hope.

What do you do 

when all the encouragement 

you write, 

all the verses of hope 

sprinkled eloquently on the page,

bounce hollow 

at the foot of your bed 

where sleep evades 

for the fears that come, 

the mistakes you’ve made, 

the wrongs you spoke, 

the doubts that swirl 

mercilessly. 

You’re a fake,

you’re a hypocrite. 

But God will not despise 

my broken and contrite heart. 

He gives fresh mercy

He will yet renew hope.

The promises are not lies, 

for I know who speaks lies, 

stealing joy. 

It is not the Giver of Life,

but the enemy of my soul,

taunting me

to give up. 

Create a clean heart in me,

Oh God!

Do not cast me from your presence. 

Restore to me the joy

of your salvation.

Give me a steadfast spirit that 

trusts that You are always 

good. 

Mary Folkerts is mom to four kids and wife to a farmer, living on the southern prairies of Alberta, where the skies are large and the sunsets stunning. She is a Proverbs 31 ministries COMPEL Writers Training member and is involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s personal blog aims to encourage and inspire women and advocate for those with Down Syndrome, as their youngest child introduced them to this extraordinary new world. For more inspiration, check out Joy in the Small Things https://maryfolkerts.com/  

H is for Hospital by Lorilee Guenter

The past two weeks, I have spent many hours at the hospital as God writes the final pages of my dad's life. Through the journey there have been other "h" words come to mind. Words lived in the moments we have. Today I offer a reflection on a life well lived and the final pages of a life story.

As people of faith, these days do not only mark an end but a new beginning. We live each day in the hope that we have been given. Soon dad's faith will become sight.  He lived with the hope of healing, perfect healing, as he embraced life both now and the one to come. He shared that hope even in the moments of deep pain. 

He leaves a legacy of love. Day by day Dad showed us what love looked like. Staff and volunteers have commented on the love they have witnessed as we wait for the last line of the earthly story to be written. We know the first line of the sequel. I am grateful for the legacy of love that I am part of and recognize the unspoken challenge to continue that legacy.

Throughout the years, Dad lived a life of consistency. He offered help and encouragement to those around him. He knew you didn't need to write a novel for your words to have impact. He encouraged us to use our words to write for ourselves and others. He modelled kind and encouraging words to those he interacted with including cashiers and strangers put in his path. Now as we share stories with friends, family and staff and volunteers here who pause to listen, we are on the receiving end of encouragement, help and offers of help. 

As I reflect on the example and teaching of my dad, it is my hope that we as writers offer ourselves as a pen in God's hand as he writes our story and the stories of those around us.