A Letter to My Future Self by Gloria Guest

The first questions I have when I think of you: Who are you now? How old you are? How are you feeling? Are you happy?

Happiness is elusive though and your present and past selves have certainly learned that. It comes and goes based on life circumstances, unlike joy that remains deep inside in spite of them. My present and past selves are no expert on joy either though…I’ve had it at times…but I’ve struggled so much to hold onto it.

But let’s stick with you…my future self. You too seem elusive. Why then do I choose to write to you? Maybe because I’ve written a lot about my younger self and some about my present, but never about you, my future. Setting goals has never been my strong suit but if I’m to connect with you, from the place I sit in the present, I sort of need to set some. How else can I even begin to imagine who you might be? Or help you be who you want to be? Sandi Somers's post, writing about how she wrote to her future self, and asking herself some key questions, was a big help to me. I’ve attempted to answer those questions myself. Thanks Sandi.

‘What would I attempt if I were sure the Lord were with me infusing me with wisdom, love courage and strength?’ Big question. Short answer is that I would attempt to finish that memoir that has been hanging around in my life since around 2005.

‘What obstacles seem to be standing in my way?’ Well that’s easy. It’s me. My fear specifically. And the specific things I need for God to give me beyond the courage and wisdom that Sandi mentions to help me, is less of me and more of Him.

The steps I need to take? Oh right. There are steps. This is where I stumble. I look too far ahead. Fear of what others will ‘think’ of me. Fear of how family will respond. Fear is likely my first big step I have stumbled on over and over again. My memoir is a complicated story of family dysfunction and abuse, festering wounds that led to my mother’s early death and a sister's suicide; a lifelong difficult journey of healing for myself. It’s not comfortable but still a story I think needs telling. Some voices do not quiet down until they are told. I had no voice as a child and my sister didn’t either.

Here in my memoir I attempt to blend her voice with mine and God's redeeming love with the painful fact that some things aren’t fixed this side of heaven. Back to the steps though…

-One day at a time….I can write for ‘now’ without thinking about the ‘future’. Someday perhaps the now will meet up the future when I ever get it published. Focus on the now.

-Schedule a writing time for just ‘memoir’ writing preferably once a week. If I can’t write on my memoir I can journal.

-Journal every day. That is where the best ‘stuff’ of memoir comes from; free flowing thought even if it’s from other places and happenings.

-Prayer. This memoir will never happen without prayer, and I have lacked in that department. Perhaps I think that if I don’t pray, I won’t have to do it. But God’s promptings to write are steadfast. I need to pray. And perhaps have others pray with me. Spiritual warfare as our family has found out in the last couple of years is very real.

‘How is the Lord prompting me now to step out in risk?’ This very letter has been the prompt I needed. In the past few years I’ve slipped back into depression and have allowed a lot of my motivation to slide downhill. I’ve read and learned much about depression in my past and understand just how complicated it is, with no easy answers. Yet sometimes I read something that connects with where ‘I’ am at and believe to be true about ‘me’. One thing I read was when we aren’t living true to our self and aligning with the purposes that God has placed on our hearts, depression often then comes in the door. That rings true for me in this time and in this place….

So dear future self; as you’ve stepped forward into the purpose that you believed God has set before you, you were not alone. Every battle you have fought in your past has produced a strength and resilience in you that drew on to write what you were called to. In my present I smile to think of you lowering your pen deep into the ink well of God’s grace and mercy; laying by the green pastures and still waters He has prepared for you as you write the tough stuff that has forged you into who you are. You lean heavily on your Shepherd who you understand now has many times left the one hundred to find you; clinging to the side of a cliff or deep in a hole; but He’s always found you and brought you back. I believe you understand more than you do now how He loves you with a Father’s love. You are His and He alone carries you now, your present, and your past yet.

“His mercies are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.” (Lamentations 3:23)

Gloria writes from a small prairie town in southern Saskatchewan; coming full circle back to her husband's home town where they farmed for many years. She refers to herself as a bit of gypsy due to her many moves to various towns, cities, and provinces throughout her lifetime and draws from those varied places and experiences heavily in not only her memoir writing but other genres too. She loves the prairie crocus and sunsets and sunrises, the grandeur of the northern Alberta forest, the charm and quaintness and beautiful rivers of her southern Ontario roots.

Memoir - Snippets and Tips by Lorrie Orr

 

Writing a memoir is a tangled affair. Maya Angelou writes "There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you." I might argue that once you decide to tell the story, there is no greater agony than knowing HOW to tell it. As I've been writing the story of my family's years in Ecuador, I've wrestled with the HOW more than the WHAT. For reference I'm using the handwritten letters sent by me to my in-laws. My mother-in-law kept every one of those letters, over 21 years of them. I'm ever so grateful. I don't have to rely completely on my memory. Yet, there is far too much detail to include in a memoir. Memoir condenses hundreds of stories. 

Memoir is different than autobiography in that it prioritizes the writer's feelings about her experiences over events that happened. Although the events are historical fact, they are framed in "true stories, well told," as Lee Gutkind says. It's a form of creative non-fiction, and can be constructed chronologically, or weaving together past and present experiences, following a theme, or focusing on internal conflict.

Ah yes, conflict. Without conflict there is no story. What are the two conflicting desires at the heart of my story? How can I center them around a universal theme that will resonate with readers who will not have had the same experiences?

I recently read Helen Rebanks memoir The Farmer's Wife: My Life in Days. She writes of the conflict between wanting/needing to earn money and her greater desire to devote herself to "the small domestic things (that) matter." For me the conflict might be my longing to return to Canada versus God's leading. He becomes the hero of my story as he gives me daily grace and joy to live where he wants me. 

These bits and pieces are things I'm thinking about as I write my memoir of creating a home on the equator. What memoirs have you read, and would recommend? 

Lorrie Orr writes from Vancouver Island where she loves the rare snowfalls, walking along the water, and spending time with her husband, children, and five wonderful grandchildren. 

Honesty in Writing by Steph Beth Nickel

But I’m writing fiction. It isn’t true. So, how can it be honest?

I’m writing a memoir but can’t remember every detail. How can I write it honestly?

How vulnerable do I have to be on the page to be considered honest?

 

We can be honest in our writing—even if we’re not writing objective journalistic pieces.

 

What makes fiction honest?

There’s much truth to be found in fiction—even fiction that is set in a fantasy world or in space.

How many times have you felt connected to a character that is very different from yourself? Maybe you see your less-than-desirable traits in them or feel as if you would respond as they do. And hopefully, you recognize yourself in their emotional journey—maybe even in their personal growth.

Real. Believable. Authentic. Whether the reviewer is referring to the characters and/or the storyline, these are adjectives many (most?) of us want to hear applied to our own writing or to the novels we choose to read.

There is a lot of honesty in well-written fiction. We must remember honesty isn’t always synonymous with factual.

 

How can a memoir be honest—even if some of the facts have been lost over time?

While working on Paralympian Deb Willows’ first memoir, Living Beyond My Circumstances, we did our best to relay situations and dialogue as they happened.

Of course, none of us can remember our conversations verbatim—especially those that occurred years ago. However, if the conversation reflects the speaker’s voice and is something they would have said in that particular circumstance, it can still be considered honest.

When writing memoir, it’s important to stay in the memoirist’s POV. In this way, the author relays events as they remember them—even though others may remember the same events differently.

When is a memoir dishonest? When the author deliberately slants the story to deliberately lead readers to a conclusion that is not true.

 

Just how much of ourselves should we share?

It’s important to open our hearts and share elements of ourselves on the page. At its core, this is where our author voice comes from. Whether we’re writing fiction or nonfiction, each of us has a unique way of expressing ourselves. This is often what draws our readers back to our work time and time again.

But just how vulnerable do we have to be as writers to be labelled honest?

Whether on the page or in our dealings with others online, we have the right to decide how much of our personal life to share.

In my mind, honesty in writing includes integrity and authenticity. Are we proud to say, “I wrote that” or would we be embarrassed if someone found out?

Even in the fiction we write, do we see ourselves in our work? Are we expressing our worldview, whether overtly or as the underlying current? Is our work superficial or have we dug deep to make it real?

When writing nonfiction, does our voice ring through loud and clear?

 

How do you remain honest in your writing—even when your work is not strictly factual?

Steph Beth Nickel is an editor, writer, and author. She is eclectically interested and eclectically involved. Steph is currently working on her coauthor's second memoir. Much has happened since Steph and Paralympian Deb Willows wrote Deb's first memoir, Living Beyond My Circumstances. Steph has a YA speculative fiction novel, hopefully, the first in a series; a devotional book on the gospel of John; and  the first in what she is tentatively calling the Hard Choices Series swirling around in her brain.

Take Me Away: A Poem about Genre by Steph Beth Nickel

Inspiration for this poem came from John Truby, who wrote The Anatomy of Genres.

 

Carry me off to worlds unknown, of dragons and hobbits and fae,

To planets and worlds beyond our own; oh, what a marvelous day!

 

Tell me the stories of worlds began, where darkness and light compete,

Or stories of ranchers way out west who never admit defeat.

 

Show me the heroes battling crime—detectives, PIs, and more,

Let me see from the other side what happens behind closed doors.

 

Make me laugh and make me gasp; I’m on the edge of my chair,

I love to be breathless and laugh out loud; a story can take me there.

 

They’re growing up and finding out who they’re meant to be,

Now looking back at what has been, of what they now can see.

 

What motivates and drives us on; what makes the story shine?

No matter what genre, it’s all about love, love of many kinds.

 

Stories may take us far away or take us deep inside,

The best of them will help us grow while on an incredible ride.

Education, Entertainment, and Encouragement by Steph Beth Nickel

 

There may not be as many reasons to write as there are writers, but there are several.

We may write to educate our readers, entertain them, or encourage them.

At times we may write to do all three.

Some of us may be writing about serious academic or personal issues. These topics often lend themselves to an educational approach.

However...

Many readers retain valuable information much longer if it is presented in an entertaining and/or encouraging way.

A combination of two or all three of these reasons to write is seen across virtually all nonfiction and fiction works.

Among them...

MEMOIR

The best memoirs entertain and educate readers. And, hopefully, they provide encouragement as well, especially to readers who have experienced something similar to the author.

DEVOTIONALS

Most, if not all, devotional writers want to encourage readers to draw closer to the Lord and educate them about biblical principles. It is common to include a personal anecdote, which, at times, may be entertaining as well as encouraging.

JOURNALISTIC ARTICLES

Primarily journalistic pieces are for educational purposes. However, in this day and age, there has been a plethora of responses to the outcry for uplifting news items. More than ever before, there is the opportunity to encourage and entertain as well as educate with this type of writing.

HISTORICAL FICTION

It's obvious with this genre that although the writer's main purpose is not likely to educate, readers are bound to learn something about the era in which the story is set (as long as the writer has done their research). As with virtually all genre fiction, the writer is likely seeking to entertain their readers. Encouragement may come, but it is often not in the forefront of the writer's mind.

SPECULATIVE FICTION

Perhaps surprisingly, education may weave its way through the speculative fiction story. They often serve as cautionary tales of how things could go horribly wrong if we continue on our current course. Many stories that would fall under the speculative fiction category may seem purely entertaining, which is not a bad thing. However, each reader brings his or her perspective to whatever they read. So, a writer's spec fiction may end up educating and encouraging as well as entertaining.

Have you given much thought to your number one reason for writing? Is it to educate, entertain, or encourage? Or is it something else. Bonus points if it begins with this month's letter, E.

Steph Beth Nickel writes speculative YA fiction to entertain and encourage. She writes devotionals to encourage and educate. She co-writes memoir to educate and encourage. She writes a wide variety of things because she is eclectically interested. (Note: "Eclectic" is yet another E word.)

Writing That Makes My Heart Sing by Steph Beth Nickel

It was far easier to think of works by other authors that make my heart sing, some of which I share below, than it was to think of my own writing that qualifies. Still, I wanted to share a few aspects of the writing process that I enjoy.

SURPRISE! When I sit down at my computer with the seed of a new idea and start to write and things come together more quickly and more surprisingly than I thought they would, I'm reminded of the adventure that writing can be.

And at the other end of the process...When God uses something I've written to encourage, instruct, or entertain a reader, I am absolutely, positively over the moon. Is there a better feeling than that?

Sidenote: Revising my work to make it better is necessary and can be very rewarding—when the work is done—but the song that comes to mind during this process is “The Song That Never Ends” by puppeteer Sherry Lewis. <grin>

And now a few notes about works by other authors...

Memoir that draws me in can make my heart sing, although, at times, the tune and lyrics are sombre and heart wrenching. Punching the Air, a memoir by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam, is written in verse and goes straight to the heart. Warning: language.

And speaking of poetry...

Whether it's thought-provoking, such as Punching the Air, or a lighthearted children's book by an author such as P.D. Eastman or Dr. Seuss, verse can make my heart sing and, sometimes, a smile spread across my face. Even at 61, I love a well-written picture book.

After reading No Wonder They Call Him the Savior, I dubbed Max Lucado a poet who writes in prose. Lucado has a way of taking the simple yet profound truths of God's Word and painting a mental picture that allows these truths to sink deep into my spirit.

Devotionals that the Lord uses to give me fresh perspective on familiar passages and remind me of the awesomeness of Truth are the most life-changing nonfiction works I have the privilege of reading. Bonus: I know many of the authors, and that gives me an even greater sense of connectedness.

I enjoy a wide variety of fiction genres: suspense, cozy mysteries, sweet romances, clean romcoms, fantasies…

Fiction that grabs me by the throat and won't let go is my favourite. Frank Peretti's This Present Darkness is the first book I can remember taking with me wherever I went—although, I pretty much always had a Nancy Drew Mystery close at hand for much of my youth. I even tried to wash the dishes while reading Peretti’s book. (I'm definitely thankful for the advent of audiobooks, which makes consuming content so much easier while doing other tasks.)

And, as I mentioned earlier...

When a portion of scripture seems to jump off the page, whether to convict or encourage me, my heart sings, knowing the God of the Universe speaks to His children through words penned hundreds, some thousands, of years ago.

Love Never Lets Go by Bob Jones

 

 

“Your problem is how you are going to spend this one and precious life you have been issued. Whether you're going to spend it trying to look good and creating the illusion that you have power over circumstances, or whether you are going to taste it, enjoy it and find out the truth about who you are.”

― Anne Lamott

 

“Bob, will you help me write my story?” There was only one possible reply. “Yes” was out of my mouth before I fully thought through the significance of the commitment. Phyllis Fisher thought my yes was a gift to her but the privilege was all mine. Writers love what we do and sometimes what we do is love in writing.

 

FULL CIRCLE

I met Phyllis when her husband Bruce, tied the knot for my wife, Jocelyn, and I in 1979. Eleven years later, Bruce invited me to join his pastoral staff at Central Tabernacle in Edmonton, Alberta.

 

Only four years passed before our lives went full circle. Bruce’s health was failing, and he could not sustain his pastoral responsibilities. The congregation handed me the baton as their pastor positioning me as Phyllis and Bruce’s pastor. The significance of this rare relationship was never lost on Jocelyn and I. Phyllis was Jocelyn’s biggest cheerleader. “She inspired me to believe I could be the pastor’s wife of a significant kingdom church.”

 

TRANSPLANT

In 2015, Phyllis was diagnosed with cancer. Intense treatments were not enough to prevent the end of her life from speeding towards her in 2018. The prognosis inspired her to create a legacy piece for her grandchildren and invited me to help her write it. The afternoons we spent together recording her memories were sacred moments. She invested precious hours of her remaining life into insuring her grandchildren would have a written legacy of her convictions and values.

 

Phyllis was one of the longest surviving kidney transplant patients in Canada. In fact, she was a double transplant patient. Her desire was for people to be assured that organ transplants work. She conferred with many patients who were afraid to have a transplant and when she told them how long she had her transplant they’d respond, "You have been how long?!" When she reached thirty years as a transplant patient, her story was about encouraging other people, not about her.

 

She introduced me to the woman who donated one of her kidneys when Phyllis’ first transplant failed. We met to capture the donor's story for the book. I listened in on their lively conversation in the Fisher living room, unaware that less than two months later Phyllis would be in heaven. Anyone who knew Phyllis was always surprised when they learned about her beginnings. She lived a love that was beyond her natural experience.

 

ABANDONED BUT NOT FORSAKEN

Phyllis was a pre-schooler when her father abandoned the family. Her mother was unable to care for her, so Phyllis lived with other families during her formative years. After high school she was applied for Bible College and was pleasantly surprised that they would accept "a girl like her." While at college she met the love of her life and she faced an early end to her life. Kidney failure threatened her future. Dialysis in the 60's was primitive and painful. Through it all she shared her faith with nurses and doctors and was sustained by a calm assurance that God's love would never let go. In the same year Bruce and Phyllis wed, she received a new kidney. 

Though Phyllis was born into a family that didn’t work, she knew how to make her family work. Her fragile health prohibited her from carrying a baby, so Bruce and Phyllis adopted two children. Phyllis never used her illness or pain to deflect her drive to care for people and it was easy for those looking on to think she never had a care in the world beyond those they knew about. Phyllis fulfilled her dream of becoming credentialed as an ordained minister and a chaplain. When Bruce went on permanent disability, Phyllis became the breadwinner, employed by the Ponoka Hospital and Care Centre. 

 

Our writing journey began in her living room on March 9, 2017. We met for a second interview on March 17^th - Saint Patrick’s Day - a fitting time as Phyllis was proud of her Irish heritage. There was no blarney in her answer when I asked how she was feeling. “I’m at a five out of ten on a pain scale. Three would be a threshold where some attention needs to be paid to my pain level. But that’s OK.”

 

We met again over the next five weeks and fully expected to meet with her in May. Sadly, she needed tertiary care. Our conversations came to an end. Within days she passed. I did my best to fill in the gaps and published her memoir, Love Never Let’s Go a few weeks after her death. 

 

Phyllis left a resounding testimony of God's love and care. She lived her too short life to the full. The Fisher family and their friends expressed appreciation for creating a memoir of Phyllis' life, but I was the one with gratitude for being entrusted with this sacred responsibility. As a writer there is no greater trust than to be invited in to chronicle a love story. Truly, love never lets go.

I write to grow hope, inspire people to be real, forge an authentic faith in Jesus, and discover their life purpose.

Please follow my writing at REVwords.com

I would love to hear from you.

 

Inspirational Memoir Inspires Us in a Special Way by Wendy L. Macdonald

Inspirational books are my favorite to read because they help me have more of an essential thing people would perish without. No doubt you’ve already guessed what I’m referring to (I’ll tell all at the end.). Even if you have, please join me as I share some words about one of my favorite genres.

This summer I’m reading a memoir by Anne Lamott. She’s the author of Bird by Bird which I read when I first started writing full-length fiction and nonfiction manuscripts. The book of hers I’m reading now is Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith. 

Her wonderful sense of humor—although a tad liberal-leaning at times—inspires me not to take myself or my spirituality too seriously. God doesn’t require me to get it perfect when it comes to the nonessentials of Christian doctrine. Love matters most. Legalism leads us astray.    

On the side, I’m also rereading two memoirs: One is by Ann Voskamp, The Broken Way, and the other is Rachel Held Evans’ book, A Year of Biblical Womanhood. These books have inspired me to consider trying a stunt memoir. They’ve also encouraged me to continue writing honest words. Neither of these writers appears self-conscious or overly self-focused. They tell their truth in a way that helps readers tap into God’s Truth: The freeing truth of His unconditional love for us.

Ann Voskamp’s beautiful writing reminds me not to hide my love of poetical-styled sentences. Reading her books has helped me hone my love of lovely language and creativity. 

Rachel Held Evan’s book helped me spot and reject some of the patriarchal structures of Church life that Jesus appears to have rejected. I no longer subscribe to manmade traditions as much as I did before my eyes were opened. Jesus respected women and elevated them. The clearing of my sight has given me more boldness to tackle sensitive topics with Christ-breathed confidence. 

Reading memoirs also helped me be more attuned to the stories percolating in my life and in the lives of those I love. The rich aroma of Christ is spread through the sharing of what He has done for and through us. This is the best kind of inspirational memoir. Allowing the heart-crushing experiences of our lives to release the beauty of God’s love, grace, and miracles onto pages provide the best cups of inspiration one can find in a bookstore. It’s overflowing goodness that gives readers courage and hope to hang on and see what God will also accomplish in their lives.

For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope. Romans 15:4 NIV

Hope. Inspirational memoir helps me have hope God isn’t finished with my story yet.

Did you guess it was hope? I’m nosy-to-know what your favorite memoir is?

Blessings ~ Wendy Mac 

P.S. I completed my book proposal on time for the contest I was shortlisted in, and now I eagerly await the helpful tips promised to us. Thank you for your prayers and encouragement in my previous blog post. May God grant us His direction for our writing.

The Power of Listening by Wendy L. Macdonald

 

I thrilled at the following quote by Madeleine L’Engle because of its timeliness for me: 

When the words mean even more than the writer knew they meant, then the writer has been listening. And sometimes when we listen, we are led into places we do not expect, into adventures we do not always understand.

I’m on a quest. It’s been a longstanding goal of mine to be a good listener. So far, I’m a bit better at it than I was. However, I’ve noticed that whenever I have a self-improvement goal, the first thing that happens is I seem to get worse before making progress. I suspect it’s because I’m becoming more aware of my weaknesses and lack of skill in that area. Focusing on being a better listener opened my eyes before it opened my ears. Thankfully, I haven’t given up. I remember going through the one-step-forward-and-three-steps-back conundrum when I strove to be a more loving and respectful wife. Craving genuine growth is humbling. Desire awakens us. This is good.

Our intensified awareness of our needs propels us to improve. I imagine the accuser of the brethren hopes we’ll get discouraged and give up—especially if our desire is to be a better listener.  

Listening leads to learning. Nowhere is this truer than when we listen to God’s Word and to the Holy Spirit. Listening means setting our own thoughts aside. It means entering the world of the speaker and being still. When we’re still long enough, the one speaking is given audience long enough to tap into deeper thoughts and ideas. Silence sets the stage for bigger words, rather than just small talk. 

I’ve written several blog posts about what happens when we wait for five seconds of silence after someone has spoken to us. I have been blessed by the words of others when I do this. When we give the gift of deep listening, we are given the gift of intimacy with the speaker. Profound thoughts and revelations are conceived in silent pauses. Adventures happen in these wide-open spaces that otherwise would have been missed because we jumped in with our own words instead of waiting for five more seconds to hear what may be said next.    

When we practice good listening, we make it safe for others to share their heart’s desires, their fears, and their true selves. That’s the power of listening.

I’m nosy-to-know if you would like to accept the dare to listen for five more seconds after someone speaks to you? Please let me know how it went.

My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, ... James 1:19 NIV

Blessings ~ Wendy Mac  

What Were You Thinking? by Wendy L. Macdonald

   
     What were You thinking, God? This describes how I’ve been feeling about much of my life over the last twenty-four months. Recently, I asked God, “Are You just going to stand by and let this happen?”

     Thankfully, I’ve also learned to trust God deeper as I walk through the deep over and over again.

      Details of what I’m wading through don’t matter because the unspoken stories often speak the loudest when they’re not spelled out. The anonymous thorn in the flesh is more relatable and less distracting to the reader.

      It’s the cure—not the cause—most sufferers are concerned about. Who cares how we got here when what we crave is escape.

     I confess, I crave a cure for what ails. But God is asking me to seek the tonic of His Presence first. He’s also been coaxing me to share what I’ve learned. He wants me to use a universal voice that points to Him—not to me.

     He doesn’t want me to cause anyone to stumble. He desires my words to serve as a ladder that draws the reader’s attention to the tallness of God’s Truth. Hope isn’t found in my story; hope is found in the One who directs and edits our stories. He has plans to write a prosperous ending.

     So even though our lives might suck like slugs at times, He is able to redeem us so that He is glorified immeasurably more than He would have been if everything had gone as slick as suntan lotion by Lake Serenity.

     And speaking of serenity, here some thoughts I wrote down while picnicking at the beach on Labour Day:

1. If we’re craving anything more than we crave closeness with Christ, we’re committing idolatry with our lives.
2. Much of a heron’s success is found in the fruit of stillness.
3. God may seem silent, but He’s never still; in His silence the genealogy of our Rescue is grown. (In the hundreds of years of silence after God’s people were displaced, God continued to grow Christ’s genealogy all the way to His birthplace.)
4. We can’t see where we’ll be in a few years, but the Overseer will wipe away our tears.
5. Diminished independence isn’t a damnation if it increases our dependency on God.
6. Without peacemaking, there is no peace.

...God is a merciful God;

 he will not abandon or destroy you... 

Deuteronomy 4:31 NIV 

I don’t know if any of these speak to you; if one does, I’m nosy-to-know which one it is?

     Blessings as we write in the stillness of His silence ~ Wendy Mac

     P.S. You're invited to visit my main blog here: Wendy L. Macdonald

Leaving a Legacy of Recorded Memories - It's Easier Than You Might Think by Kimberly Dawn Rempel

There are lots of things I wish I could ask my Mom.

Things no one else on the planet knows.
Like why I got veneers on my two front teeth in childhood.
Or what changed in her heart to make her stick out a painful marriage.

She was always highly private, not even revealing her true self to her closest friends. Keeping herself secret even from her own children and husband.

In the movie Titanic, the narrator says "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets", which I suppose could sound mysterious and enticing, but to me it sounds like isolation and withholding. It sounds like everyone loses when our hearts remain unshared.

Two years ago, Mom passed away, leaving behind a lot of things like that I'll never know now. They are lost forever.

As a writer, a communicator, and a human, it makes me sad that we could not know each other better - that memories weren't shared.

The good thing about it is that it reminds me how powerful storytelling is, and motivates me to keep writing down stories. Recording my observations, thoughts, and even the everyday happenings and goofy stories that are part of our family (like my weird jellyfish experience) So we remember! (I'm sure half the reason I'm a writer at all is because my memory is terrible.)

All that to say two things.

First, I want to encourage you to SHARE your memories.

Record them somewhere. It doesn't have to be a book or even a cohesive story. Just write down or voice record memories as they come to you. Take notes. At least they're down then, and can be shared later if not now. At least it will be an option.

Recently I was chatting with a woman who has wanted to write her memoir. For years she's wanted to. For years, I've heard her tell interesting stories that I agree, should be recorded. And for years, she's put it off. As I explored her reasons for being stalled, I discovered several. One of them was this idea that to write a memoir required deciding to sit down and plod through almost without stopping until it was done. In her mind, it was a giant undertaking, so she put it off until 'one day' when she 'had time' for that kind of dedicated time investment.

But 'one day' is a day that never comes.

Never.

"It doesn't have to be about sitting and writing a book," I said, "You tell interesting stories to your family and friends all the time! It can be just writing down one. Just start with one. That's it. Put it in a folder, and you're done."

"Oh! I never thought about it like that," she said, seeming less burdened.

"It's not about a big project. Just getting down the pieces so the memories don't fade away or die with you."

I'm saying it to you too; if you're putting off writing your memoir or even just jotting down some of your memories, please don't. Get them down. Even just one memory stuffed in a folder is better than none.

The second thing I'd like to tell you is a secret about writing.

Whether you're documenting memories, analyzing a process, or spinning a tale, writing can feel like a big undertaking. And getting that writing into readers' hands (aka marketing), is the Goliath we all face.

It's all so DAUNTING sometimes, isn't it?

It's enough to make a writer dream of the hermit life.

Here's the secret I've discovered.

Action is the cure.

It really is. Especially when we're moving with the trust that God will open doors that need opening and close doors that need closing.

Listen, whether you believe in God or not, the truth is a static object can't be steered.
Get moving - pick a direction - and you'll start to see a path unfold.
It won't feel safe, certain, or even sane necessarily, but doors will start to open and close around you.

God said he'd part the water for Moses and the Israelites all those years ago in the desert,
but Moses had to first step into the water. He had to literally take that step of faith. This is often how God operates.

Don't know what your writing 'voice' is yet? Write anyway.
Not sure how the story you're writing will end? Keep writing.
Wondering if anyone will even read it when it's done? Keep going!

Because things will become clearer as you move forward.
Jeff Goins would call this process 'Practicing in Public'.

Jim Watkins would say 'a river cuts through rock not because of its power, but because of its persistence.'

If you want to get somewhere, it requires moving.

In the meantime, what's one highlight (memory) from your summer? Consider it a writing challenge ;). Comment below! I'd love to read it. 

The Christmas Card by Wendy L. Macdonald

The Christmas card somehow eluded our spring-cleaning purge. My daughter handed me a gold-edged card she found tucked in with the Christmas decorations. We had recycled, sold, and given away a lot of things—including a stack of Christmas cards stashed in an old cupboard we recently sold online.

“It’s from Auntie Debbie,” she said before I had a chance to open it.

Perhaps my daughter wanted to warn me—to give me a heads up—the handwritten words inside might bring me down. I read the note, noting the blessing wished over our family for 2018.
It was the last Christmas card my dear friend would ever send me; I didn't know it at the time I received it.

Deb, a friend I’d known since the sixties, was not going to celebrate the season with the rest of us here on earth. She would worship and rejoice with Jesus in Heaven. And while her husband, children, and grandchildren opened Christmas gifts together, she would gather together with loved ones who had entered the Pearly Gates ahead of her.

My sweet friend was one of those rare people who remembered every single birthday of her friends and her friends’ children. Not a year passed by before she passed away that she didn’t send a card for each one of our special days.

I tucked the last Christmas card into the edge of my antique dresser mirror as a morning reminder for December to remember what matters most about the season. Love. Love lasts long after gifts and cards have faded from our memory. Love lifts spirits and heals wounded hearts.

My friendship with Deb had been more deliciously satisfying than a plateful of freshly baked gingerbread cookies. She always greeted me with a smile as warm and as wide as the arms she flung around me. We always laughed a lot and hid little from each other. She praised my honesty and openness by rewarding me with her own from-the-heart confessions, hopes, and prayers.

I would miss her. I already do. But tears are less now as I focus on being thankful for her friendship here and for our forever friendship in Heaven. Emmanuel has gifted us with this hope. He is with me now and has promised to bring all believers together to be with Him in Paradise.

Although Debbie was generous about sending out cards and gifts for Christmas. She practised what it’s really about: Spending time with each other rather than just spending money on each other. Deb’s last Christmas card focused on the gift of time spent together. And it reminded us to:

 “O come, let us adore Him.”

We may think we don’t have a lot to give God. But what He treasures most from us is time spent loving and enjoying Him and time spent loving and enjoying our family, friends, and neighbours as ourselves. Like Mary, the mother of Jesus, may we ponder the Good News of the Christmas Child. May we ponder God’s love for us.

That’s the best Christmas card we could ever send to Jesus.

I'm nosey-to-know if you have a keepsake Christmas card you love to display during December.

Merry Christmas ~ Wendy Mac

#Writerslife by Wendy L. Macdonald

It’s no laughing matter when a writer’s life takes a direct hit—or is it?

Right when I was making traction with my platform, podcasts, and manuscripts—right when I was getting ahead editing my manuscripts—the joyful sounds of my grandson’s giggles and gurgles stole my heart and time.

Sometimes love demands action. Because greeting cards can’t and don’t say it best. Putting down your pen and rolling up your granny sleeves when you’re prompted by necessity is how true love lives out its mandate.

I’m not a humour writer. But please don’t misinterpret that. I love to laugh. In fact, I have a gold necklace that says: Live, love, laugh. And it turns out that spending extra time with my grandson has absolutely given me much more to live, love, and laugh about. Some days my face hurts from all the smiling and laughing I do with “Little Guy.”

He’s a tickle-bunny of an Anne Geddes baby for sure.

For not only has he become the inspiration for so much of my recent writing, his image appears throughout my photography files too. I’m smitten even if I haven’t written half as much as I used to. Because love doesn’t say “no” when “yes” is the biggest blessing for all involved. Sometimes God trims our army so we can witness His marvellous interventions and multiplication miracles.

An inspirational writer won’t be fruitful if she ignores the call of God to leave the crowd to serve the one. And just to prove God has a sense of humour, He has indeed been multiplying my portion despite the extra downtime my pen has taken.

Trials trim the fat out of life when we lean into Christ.

I believe God’s using my busyness to trim out the unnecessary areas of my writing life. I’ve suspected for a while He may have plans I hadn’t planned on. So while I lean into Him and lift up my hands, I trust Him to trim what needs to be removed to make room for His plans. 

God is love. 

Whoever lives in love lives in God,

 and God in them.

  1 John 4:16 NIV

And as far as my gold necklace goes, I would love to have it changed to: Lean, learn, love. If we’re doing these three things, there will be plenty of true living and true laughing to go along with all the leaning, learning, and loving. I know because I’ve never felt so alive, never felt so loved, and never felt like laughing as much as I do since “Little Guy” was born.

Lean, learn, love; it’s good for your soul. 

I’m nosey-to-know if you’ve ever been called away from the crowd. 

(Wendy L. Macdonald is an inspirational blogger and podcaster who loves to photograph nature on Vancouver Island. Her byline is: “My faith is not shallow because I’ve been rescued from the deep.” Her main website is wendylmacdonald.com where she enjoys interacting with readers.)

Writing Catch of the Day by Wendy L. Macdonald

Recently, I realised what my favourite writing catch of the day is...

My self-confidence, enthusiasm, and hopes bled across the floor like crumpled pages of a rejected manuscript. Why should I bother writing if what a publishing professional I admire says is true?

Her words to writers: “You either have it or you don’t,” severed the umbilical cord of my latest project.

I know I don’t have the “X-factor.” The extra special gifting of being able to write genius prose that sequesters awards and bestseller acclaim has not been assigned to this gal’s name. No. I’m absolutely absent of any arrogance to think I’m one of the chosen ones who bears the mark of the coveted “X.”

I don’t instinctively have anything amazing regarding writing except the love and passion for it. Each small success I’ve birthed has been because I honed an idea—an embryo of hope—until it implanted on a page. And then, like this post, I stayed with it until it swelled into a ripened book bump ready to be bravely sent to editors.

My projects are my babies.

And to think of anyone calling them plain Jane—ordinary—not good enough to name, edit, adopt, and swaddle between a back copy and a brilliant front cover makes me feel like aborting my latest project.

As I thought about the missing "X-factor" in my life, I remembered all the times the Lord encouraged me not to give up on things. I thought about the project I’m working on that’s given me a bird’s-eye-view of what He can do when we trust and obey Him, and cast our nets over unpromising waters.

I pictured Peter swallowing annoyance, doubt, and disappointment when Jesus asked him to try one more time. Perhaps Peter thought it was easy for the Jesus to say it when it wasn’t the Lord who tossed nets all night long over Skunked-Ville Sea. Yet, Peter said in Luke 5:5 NIV:

“But because you say so, I will let down the nets.”

And, oh-my-goodness-glory-to-the-God-of-earth-sky-and-sea, Peter’s net was filled fuller than full, and ready to burst, like an overdue pregnancy. For I’ve been that poor mama with a baby bigger than I ever imagined coming out of me. I know what it’s like to wait, worry, and sweat. I also know what it’s like to have and hold a newborn after all the drama is done and the footprints have been inked and stamped to prove—he‘s here—he’s mine.

And one day, in one way or another, a stamp of a different sort will be pressed onto the bottom of a book my future publishing team and I birth together, so the world may read and know of one more story it needs to have on the library shelves of hope.

And besides, stories I’ve read about manuscripts being rejected dozens of times and then finally being adored and adopted by one publisher also stem the flow of self-pity blood.

I rallied as I remembered it doesn’t matter how many “No’s” it takes to hear one “Yes.” For like babies, one family is all it takes to make a home where it can thrive, grow, and show its uniqueness to a world who needs more stories of hope.

And although I may not have the “X-factor”, I’m an inspirational writer, so I’ve got something greater, I’ve got the "Cross-factor."

I’m here to stay in my writing boat, because even though I’ve not birthed much yet—perhaps even been mostly skunked—the Lord may direct me to drop my net in a certain way, in a certain place, and at a certain time. Then my nets will bulge to bursting.

For now, I must not give up. For now, peace is my favourite catch of the day.

While fishing for success, don’t forget to ask your Maker where to cast your nets.     

When life doesn’t roll out the red carpet for you, cast your nets over the Sea of Opportunity and rejoice in your own catch of the day because it’s not about the size of your boat; it’s about the size of the One who called you.

I'm nosey-to-know: What's your favourite writing catch of the day?

Wendy L. Macdonald is an inspirational blogger and podcaster who loves to photograph nature on Vancouver Island. Her byline is: “My faith is not shallow because I’ve been rescued from the deep.” Her main website is wendylmacdonald.com where she enjoys interacting with readers.

Website: wendylmacdonald.com 

Reason for Writing - Wendy L. Macdonald

     I remember the moment I realised my reason for writing: It happened when a Bible verse jumped off the page of a Beth Moore book I was studying with a group of ladies at my church. Before that moment, I suspected I was supposed to head in that direction, but I hadn’t experienced a specific word or leading until then.

     Although I already had an arsenal of favourite Scripture verses I memorised for my battle against eating disorders back in the 1980’s, I hadn’t found what many call a “Life Verse.” And although I enjoyed selecting a verse of the day and a verse of the year, I hadn’t chosen my forever one.

     But as I recently worked on a podcast draft for HopeStreamRadio, the verse I noticed during the Beth Moore Bible study came to mind and reminded me it not only applied to Jesus, but to all who believed on His name, because we’re to be filled by Christ, empowered by Christ, and imitators of Christ.

      A Christian is defined as one who follows Jesus. To follow Him is to do as He did, which is to be a fisher of men—as He called His disciples to do. Part of being a Christian fisherman is to instruct and build up the body of believers.

Are you curious—yet—as to which verse I’m alluding to?

     Here it is: Isaiah 61:1 NIV

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,

 because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.

 He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives

 and release from darkness for the prisoners.

     When I read this verse in the context of Christians being called and anointed to do as Christ did, it sent shivers of inspiration though my spirit. I long to live as one who binds and builds up broken people because I’ve been blessed with healing through the Word and through the words of those God used to help me overcome darkness. And as a result of my own rescue from eating disorders, depression, and infertility:

 My faith is not shallow because I’ve been rescued from the deep.

     There are a lot of people drowning in disorders. There are a lot of rescues still in need of happening. I write because I want to be part of the rescue efforts. Sure it’s humbling—even humiliating at times—to share my story. But I thank God for the brave people who didn’t just recover from the darkness and hide the Light under the pew they sit on each Sunday. We’re to share what the Lord has done for us so that others may believe and glorify God too.

I’m glad I needed a rescue because now I know the Rescuer.   

     This is the reason I write. I’m nosey-to-know what yours is?

 The LORD is close to the brokenhearted 

and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Psalm 34:18 NIV

     Rescued from the deep blessings ~ Wendy Mac

a white down feather

 fluttering in surrender

 I kneel before God

 for He comforts broken hearts

 and lifts the low in spirit

~ wlm

***

Wendy L. Macdonald is an inspirational blogger and podcaster who loves to photograph nature on Vancouver Island. She hopes you’ll visit her “Daily Bread” style Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. Her byline is: “My faith is not shallow because I’ve been rescued from the deep.” Her main website is wendylmacdonald.com where she enjoys interacting with readers.

New Birth: New Love - Wendy Macdonald

New birth is all around us during springtime

 and it reminds me of something I appreciate about our Heavenly Father.

While I was recently feeding my newborn grandson a bottle of his mother’s milk, I whispered a prayer he would love the Lord with all his heart, mind, soul and strength when he is old enough to believe and trust in Jesus.

I know more than ever how important it is to believe, trust, and love God if we hope to shine a born-again light to those around us. And I suspect it was a dip in my passion for the Lord that precipitated my latest relationship stumble. For if I loved God more than anything—more than anyone else—All. The. Time.—I would have heeded the warning to bite my tongue when fear riled up my adrenaline.

God’s Spirit is love—not fear.

At first I complained to God about how quiet His whisper was: “Hey, Lord, couldn’t You slap a hand over my mouth whenever I’m tempted to say something stupid?”

But God has given us freewill; we must cover our own mouths.

When we love and cherish someone, we listen to them well. When my grandson makes little noises and looks around the room, I smile, lean in close, and listen. I inhale his delicious newborn scent. Oh, that I would consistently pay attention to the Holy Spirit as devotedly as I watched my grandchild.

But after I stumbled, I went to God and asked for forgiveness. And according to His promises, He forgave me, cleansed me, and used my fumble for the furtherance of His kingdom. Because He is God, and He is the Master of creating goodness from our messes.

When Jesus was mocked by a thief hanging near His cross, goodness came from this situation, too, when a second thief rebuked the first one. The second thief told the first thief they deserved to die, and he said Jesus didn’t deserve to because the Lord hadn’t done anything wrong. Then the second thief asked Jesus if He would remember him when He went to His kingdom.

And here’s where I share the wonderful thing spring reminds me of about God—newness—second chances—a fresh start. Jesus said yes to the second thief.

 He accepted the thief’s confession and profession of faith in Christ. 

The thief was saved from eternal separation from God; Jesus told him he would be with him in Paradise, not because the thief was baptised by full immersion, graduated from confirmation classes, or went forward at a Billy Graham Crusade—he was saved because he trusted Jesus to save him.

Jesus paid it all.

 Jesus paid it all for us too. 

He is the author of a born-again life. 

He’s not going to give up on any of us either. His salvation is an all-the-way-to-Heaven’s-gate rescue, because He’s not a quitter and He’s making something new in each of His followers. He won’t give up because He is love.

I love my grandson—a lot—but our Father loves us even more than we love our loved ones. That’s why Easter happened. That’s why I will keep praying for my family members and friends to know God’s amazing love.

This is love: not that we loved God,

 but that he loved us and sent his Son 

as an atoning sacrifice for our sins. 

1 John 4:10 NIV

I’m nosey-to-know what favourite thing Easter and spring remind you of?                  

Theme Bible Verses for Inspirational Writers - Wendy L. Macdonald

Theme Bible verses for inspirational writers can help us remember why we're writing. I—or rather—the Holy Spirit - chose a theme verse for me that fits in with what I believe He's been speaking to me about my faith and writing for 2018. You’re invited to try and guess which verse it is before I list it at the end of this post.

The nudge to focus more on this verse started when I watched a YouTube video by Nabeel Qureshi, a well-known speaker who is also a former Muslim. It was his final vlog because cancer cut his life short even though he battled it as bravely as he could. But he had peace because he left the final outcome to God; he knew cancer was a dust bunny God could easily sweep out of his body.

His final words were about love:

• He stressed love as being the greatest thing. 
• He didn’t want us—the body of Christ—to lose sight of it or forget it.

So when a good friend told me she was battling cancer. My heart turned to stone and dropped to the lowest level of hope when she also mentioned how hugely the odds were stacked against her.

I figured if God allowed someone even younger than us to die of cancer, who was I to believe and ask Him to save my friend from this despicable foe?

Real faith chooses to believe. 

So I asked for healing for her. And the more I prayed, the more my heart lightened and the more my hope grew.

What is faith if I don’t exercise it? 

What is faith if it doesn’t ask for good things for others, even impossible things? 

Faith hopes, believes, and therefore asks. 

Because real faith goes to work; it doesn’t call in sick.

My friend did beat the first round of cancer; against the odds, those nasty dust bunnies were blown to bits. And we all rejoiced because God said yes that time. She is now battling a second round of cancer that showed up in another part of her body, and prayers are once again being sent to the One who is more than able to demolish the delinquent cells.

 We know He can, and we hope He will.

Now back to my verse of the year:

It’s no surprise that God would point out a verse related to the very thing I’ve been secretly and not-so-secretly complaining about. If I’m going to whine about a lack of love in the world, then I should be part of the solution. I should fill more of my writing with it.

This oft missing ingredient is the same thing I saw shining in the face of my sweet friend so many years ago when she expressed her faith through it; she prayed for me privately, invited me to her house Bible study, and then invited me to her church because of it—because of love.

Love.

As I go into 2018, I want to write words penned with unconditional love.

The world needs more of love’s ink spilled across pages of books, magazines, blogs, vlogs, podcasts, Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and face to face too. I’m going to share this message through doors that are already open and knock on doors I believe He’s asking me to brave.

Because:

The only thing that matters is faith

 expressing itself through love. 

Galatians 5:6 NIV

What’s your favorite verse right now? I’m nosy-to-know.