The Things that Shape Us by Mary Folkerts

 

"Reuse, rethink, recycle—and perhaps relive? Sometimes, when we revisit our past, certain memories are stirred awake that have lain dormant for years. It can be restorative to embrace the emotions triggered by those events, as time and distance often help us process them with more clarity.

And as we process, we uncover nuggets of truth that remain as accurate now as they were then; truths about God's faithfulness in difficult times. As our hearts are encouraged by the remembering, we can use these nuggets to weave encouragement throughout our writing."

It was on a Tuesday in October 1978 that my husband Art's family experienced a tragedy that changed their lives forever. The siblings reminisced about that time on Messenger a few days ago, which led Art to recall his memories of being a twelve-year-old boy in grade 7.

The day started like any other. Art got ready to catch the big yellow bus that would take him down the gravel road to the small local school. His parents were preparing to go to a doctor's appointment in the big city, expecting to be back later that evening.

That afternoon, Art returned home from school, but when supper time came, his parents still hadn't returned. We imagine (Art's memory is fuzzy on some details, so we fill in the gaps) that Mom left food in the fridge for him and the hired man to warm up. All evening, Art waited, listening for the sound of tires crunching on gravel, signaling his parents' return. Finally, it was time for bed, so he turned off the lights and went to sleep. Tomorrow morning, he planned to ask them about their long day in the city.

Morning broke to a silent house. Throwing back the covers, Art hurried upstairs, and to his surprise and dread, the kitchen was empty. Mom wasn't packing lunches or preparing breakfast. Where were they? There had been no phone calls explaining their absence. What had happened?

With these questions and a sense of dread hanging over him, Art prepared for school. What was a twelve-year-old to do but continue his routine?

School must have dragged on long for him that day. I can only imagine the thoughts and fears swirling in his mind. It was unlike Mom and Dad to keep their plans from him.

That afternoon, as the school bus lumbered to a stop and before the doors snapped open, Art stood, grabbed his lunchbox, and ran up the driveway to the house. Still, the house stood empty.

Did panic set in? What would a boy of twelve think in a moment such as this? True, he wasn't entirely alone on the farm as a hired man lived nearby — but that offered little comfort. Where were mom and dad? Did he consider calling someone? Did he think of calling his older sisters, who lived far away in another city? Art doesn't remember.

Then, shortly after he arrived home, he suddenly heard tires on the driveway! Quickly, Art ran to see who it was, and with relief and joy, he saw it was his older brother, Fred, and his wife, Margaret. Eagerly, he ran out to greet them, but when he saw their faces, joy turned into confusion. And then there was Mom with them. What—?

Unbeknownst to Art, another trauma had unfolded in the city. Dad had completed his appointment, and the doctor had given him a clean bill of health, but during lunch at a restaurant near the hospital, he suddenly started having seizures. He was rushed to the ER, where they eventually diagnosed a burst brain aneurysm.

We will never know exactly why no word reached Art until Mom came home twenty-four hours later. Maybe it was shock; perhaps she didn't want Art to find out something was wrong while he was alone. Each of Art's siblings has their own story about how and when they learned that Dad was gravely ill.

Dad did survive, but he was a shadow of his former self. He lived another 20 years with his disabilities.

Art says that life changed for him, too, that day.

Sometimes it's helpful to revisit life-defining moments. Art felt the emotions of the young boy he once was, and it still brought tears for the trauma he endured. I hurt alongside him, imagining little Art, scared and alone. It may seem strange, but I believe it can be healing to go back to our childhood, to our places of pain, and to love on the child we once were.

Any trauma, especially childhood trauma, shapes us. It can have a devastating impact if God's love isn't poured into those wounds, because an open wound will continue to fester and bleed. But when healing occurs, the things that could have broken us only make us stronger and more compassionate.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" Romans 8:28 (NIV).

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 member of Proverbs 31 Ministries' COMPEL Writers Training, involved in church ministries and music. Mary’s 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/ or connect on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/

Signs, symbols and senses by Mary Folkerts

 

Do you ever find yourself reading all the instructions given in Exodus concerning the building of the Tabernacle and wondering what the significance of all the details is? How can this still apply to our lives now? I, too, wonder this as I muddle my way through, and something has struck me as I read. 

It seems God is big on involving all the senses when He calls his people to worship Him. From the intricate designs with precise direction on inlaid gold and silver,  blue, purple and scarlet threads, precious stones, fine leathers and costly wood to fragrant incense, spices and anointing oils, no expense is spared to ignite the people’s senses.

Why this extravagance? First of all, He is God and worthy of the honour. But the signs and symbols woven into the building of the Tabernacle, along with engaging all the senses, were God’s way of helping the people remember who He was, calling them back to Himself over and over. “They will know that I am the Lord their God, who brought them out of Egypt so that I might dwell among them. I am the Lord their God.” Exodus 29:46 NIV.

Today, we don’t necessarily have the opulent churches described in Exodus, but God still engages all our scenes to remind us of his continuous love for us. 

The colours cast across the sky in the evening sunset, the intricate designs in the summer garden, and the majesty of the craggy mountains are all a feast for the eyes, pointing us back to our Creator's faithfulness! 

The sound of music, a conversation with a loved one, children laughing and the birds singing outside the window are gentle embraces of a creative Father God. 

The smorgasbord of flavours we experience as food passes our tongue brings us back to thankfulness to God for the blessings. 

The touch of a hand, the gentle caress that soothes the soul, is like the hand of God, reminding us of His love. 

The fresh inhale after a summer rain, or the musky ripening of autumn grains reminds us of our ever-present Provider, without whom we would have nothing. 

I love how God has provided us with senses to remind us of Him. We forget so quickly and need constant nudges to keep us looking to Him. How can we, as writers, engage our readers' senses to continually point them back to God's faithfulness and love?

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/  or connect on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/maryfolkerts/ 

 

F is for Forget by Lorilee Guenter

 

This week I made a list of possible words that begin with the letter F. Some have obvious connections to writing, such as form, function, and fiction. Others, such as flower and fountain left me puzzling over possible analogies. I considered fabric. It shows up in cliches such as "the fabric of life." Words like events weave their way through our stories. 

Nothing felt right. I could not find a flow for the writing. As I fought the urge to crumple the paper and toss it in the vicinity of the recycling bin, I found myself thinking: "Forget it." Sometimes it takes admitting the failure of an idea and walking away before the words come. Sometimes it is helpful to forget in the middle of floundering.

I was reminded that it can be beneficial to forget the final form as you play with an idea. For me the observations and ideas come together much quicker if I relax and play with words than if I try to force them. Sometimes a poem communicates the thought in a better way than prose does. In this regard, I find writer's who work in multiple formats are fortunate. They have many tools to express themselves. 

It is useful to forget past failures. Learn from them, then let them go. A story that continues to fall flat might benefit from sitting on the shelf for awhile, or even forever. Its sole purpose might have been a learning exercise. Not everything needs to be finished. 

There are some things that should not be forgotten. The foundation of my faith keeps me grounded. It is more important than deadlines or stress. However, deadlines are another thing firmly in the must remember category. I forgot the day this post needed to go live because I wrote the day down wrong. Fortunately for me, I wrote the deadline earlier than the actual date. This let me keep my commitment in spite of a faulty memory. 

Remember (don't forget) to pause and enjoy the moments you have been given. It is in those spaces the ideas build for me. The details of life can add depth to our writing. Even if they don't, they add depth to our days. The moments are gifts from God. 

Through These Words by Alan Anderson

 

“You shall remember all the way which Yahweh your God has led you” (Deuteronomy 8:2)

My writing has always been a companion for my soul. This is most prevalent in my times of sorrow or loneliness and life-changing upheavals. Writing also witnesses my periods of joy and excitement as life moves on. The words I write help me express what my heart longs to say.

My childhood enveloped me in a cloak of shyness. This took years for me to come out of my shell. Even then I shunned being noticed by other people. I lived my youth like an unheard of book hidden away in a musty corner of a library. 

Now as an almost old guy it seems years have gone by in the speed of light. I look back on decades of trying to find myself, and where I fit into God’s plan. Even today I can blush at mistakes I made in my faith. If it is possible I’m sure I must have been an embarrassment to God.

In the past three years I know of God’s leading and care. He has brought my wife and I to a stage in life we can rest in. No, we don’t have money to burn. We have our children and grandchildren close by. We belong to a caring church family we love to be part of. Besides such blessings, I am in a deeper love with my writing.

This month brought a new chapter in the life of my writing. I am in love with poetry, a beautiful form of storytelling. A serious consideration to write poetry is new to me. From a distance I have always admired poets. Poetry, done well, can have a powerful emotional impact on readers.

In the first week of November I listened to a poet on the internet radio channel, Ancient Faith Radio. Angela Doll Carlson, hosts her program, The Wilderness Journal. Her way of reading poetry drew me in right away. Nothing else in the moment mattered as I listened to the beauty of her poem. She read like she loved every word. Through, Angela Doll Carlson, poetry embraced me. I sensed God’s call for me to enter this beautiful form of writing.

I am unsure where poetry will take me. For now I’m exploring its territory. From my point of view, a storyteller who is a Christian, I pray my poems will give peace to readers and stir their souls. I pray I stay true to the writing God lays on my heart. I trust my poetry presents a sense of suffering and hope. This is what my writing is all about.

Please accept this humble poem written for our InScribe family.

Through These Words

By Alan Anderson

Life’s storms assail,

while waves crash over us.

We reach for the shore,

but the waves are stronger.

Weakness overtakes us,

we are frail,

we cannot do this on our own.

Our Creator, the Author,

gives us words.

Be faithful to these words,

true heart words from God.

Like fresh air,

His truth sets us free.

Our call, to minister with words,

What a way to view life!

To give peace to the world,

comfort to mourners,

strength to the fearful,

and life to the dying,

Through these words!

 

Alan lives in Deroche, B.C. with his wife, Terry. Alan contributed stories to Good Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017 and Story by Story: The Power Of a Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca. Alan is BC rep for InScribe.

 

10 Things I Choose to Remember - Ruth L. Snyder

As I started writing this post I listed a few things I choose to remember. Considering the time of year, Remembrance Day and Christmas were at the top of my list. My friends and family were there too. Then I began to wonder if the things I choose to remember match with God's priorities. In the process I found Online Bible Study Tools and used the concordance to look up the word remember. Here's my revised list of 10 things I will choose to remember.

Mountains, one of God's majestic creations

1. The Sabbath - Exodus 20:8 In our fast-paced world, it's easy to treat every day the same. God set the pattern of remembering the Sabbath way back when He created the world. Even though He is never tired, He rested on the seventh day. There are many benefits of rest, and we would all do well to follow God's example.
2. The Commandments of the Lord - Numbers 15:39 Obviously to remember the commandments, we first need to know them. Spending time reading and studying God's Word consistently will enable us to learn and remember God's commandments so that we can obey them.
3. God's Deliverance - Deuteronomy 7:18 It is easy to forget what God has done for us. Many times in the Old Testament God instructed people to do things (like make a pile of rocks) which would prompt conversations about God and His past deliverance. Remembering gives us hope when we face intimidating circumstances.
4. To Trust in God - Psalm 20:7 This verse references some of the things people place their trust in like horses and chariots. Perhaps in our day and age we trust in education or wealth. In Jeremiah 2:13 God compares the temporal things we trust in to broken cisterns or wells which cannot hold water because they are full of holes. 
5. Our Creator - Eccl. 12:1 Although this verse specifically references remembering our Creator in the days of our "youth", it's important to remember God no matter what our age. Today many deny not only God's existence, but also the fact that He created the world. 
6. Lot's Wife - Luke 17:32 This may seem a very strange thing to remember. However, there are many stories and events we should remember and learn from so that we don't make the same mistakes. God is merciful and forgives, but sin has consequences. We can avoid these unwanted results by remembering.
7. The Poor - Gal. 2:10 In Galatians instruction is given to remember the poor. James 1:27 adds that pure religion is demonstrated by caring for the fatherless and widows. Jesus stated many times that the defining mark of His people should be their love for one another and for others. When people look at me, do they see someone who remembers the poor and loves unconditionally?
8. The Resurrection - 2 Tim 2:8 Without the resurrection, our faith would be worthless - without hope. The resurrection is the anchor of our faith.
9. The Prisoners - Heb. 13:3 In chapter thirteen of Hebrews, the author mentions many actions which are pleasing to God. Remembering those "in bonds" is among them. In Matthew 25:36 Jesus references visiting those in prison and goes on to say, "Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." We serve Jesus by serving others, even those in prison.
10. Our Leaders Heb. 13:7 This passage instructs us to submit to spiritual leaders. Verse 17 explains that these individuals, who watch over our souls, will have to give an account. Romans 13:1-7 and Ephesians 6:5-8 expound on this instruction and the reasons behind it. We are reminded that we are to obey as if we were serving the Lord Himself.

What about you? What have you been learning in your spiritual walk and remembering lately?

www.trusteesnyder.blogspot.com (Education information)
www.ruthlsnyder.com (Ruth's writing and family life) 
www.earlyyearssuccess.com (Information for caregivers of children ages 0-5)
Follow Ruth on Twitter:www.twitter.com/@wwjdr

Did I Forget to Remember? - Linda Aleta Tame

"If you have to do it anyway, you might as well enjoy it." My mom is 93 now, and is still practicing her practical proverb. Launching from that springboard, I learned to love winter. I live in central Canada where the winters can be extremely cold, with icy streets and huge snow drifts. People here usually love to hate winter, and I was one of them until I remembered Mom's advice. I started to list the things I appreciated about winter: Christmas, the cozy warmth that hugs me when I come in from the cold, no mosquitoes, being snowed in with my reading and writing, and so on. I determined to love winter, and now I do!

I used the same technique with waiting.  Waiting is something I'll always have to do, so I might as well enjoy it.  I now love waiting.  It's the only time I get to do nothing without answering to anyone for it.

Since it's November again, I had to face the dread of it.  It's gray, windy and cold, and here on the prairies, the trees have turned into brown sticks.  I've learned to love all the other months, even January, which is now my hibernation month, but November?  What's to love about it?

This year, I've learned to love it.  My best friend's birthday is this month, and I love her to pieces.  But, November is important for something even greater than that, and how could I have forgotten to remember.  No, I really didn't forget to remember, but I did forget that loving November means loving people for the sacrifices they've made and continue to make on my behalf.  I am so grateful for the freedoms I enjoy that came at the expense of our soldiers and their families.  November comes every year anyway, I might as well enjoy it.  Thankfully, I am free, protected and alive so, now and forever, I will love November.

Remembering To Rely -- Glynis M. Belec

Our local elementary school in little ol' Drayton has a wonderful sign that helps keep the community informed. Often they announce report cards coming out, lest any student 'forget' to tell Mom or Dad. There are announcements about upcoming school events, PD days, awards, drama productions and more. I love keeping an eye and seeing what those sweet students and teachers are working on or dealing with at any given time.

     Every November when I drive by, I notice the grand announcement about 'Random Act of Kindness Day.' This year it will happen on Friday, November 9th. I think that is a wonderful thing, except it makes me sad.

I think it is wonderful because it perhaps makes students and those of us who notice the sign a little more attuned to the human condition and alert to finding ways to improve or delight in it. But it saddens my heart to think that we have to be told to do random acts of kindness or to have a special day to celebrate such.

     I'm trying not to be a grumpy old bear but what has our world come to when we have to have a special day to remember to hold the door, or help someone with their groceries or to give someone an unexpected word of encouragement, a free coffee, a handful of change, a helping hand?

     I know this is a big city concept so I am sure it is a good way to snag the attention of the busy and the indifferent. But still I find it sad in a way. I'm hoping no card makers or gift givers make a profit on this day or my soul will really be saddened.

     I love our little Drayton because, for the most part, people thrive in this community by doing little and big random acts of kindness. I would not have dreamed 27 years ago, that I would still be living here. But the people of this community and the hearts of those who make this place special, are what makes me stay put. I have been the recipient of untold and numerous acts of kindness over the years here. And I hope and pray that I have been able to reciprocate naturally rather than out of obligation.

    A very sweet and dear friend told me once when I tried to find words and ways to pay her back for the many things she had done for me as I dealt with my battle with cancer. At my wit's end, she found a way to comfort and assure me. "Pay it Forward," she said. I love that concept. I could never ever pay her back for what she did for me but I certainly can find ways to pay her generosity and kindness forward. I seek ways to do just this. My friend was very wise.

     Perhaps if we could find ways to turn  Random into Remember, then daily life could be turned upside down for the better! Random, after all, is dictionary-defined as lacking any definite plan or order or purpose, governed by or depending on chance. In other words, haphazard. The way we treat people shouldn't come on a whim.

     Okay, so I am retiring my grumpy bear attitude and have decided to focus on the true doer of random acts of kindness. I'm thinking that Jesus' acts of kindness were not so random. He didn't reach out haphazardly. He always had a way of connecting with the poor, the disenfranchised, the lost, the lonely, the hurting, the afflicted. His acts of kindness always involved meeting their physical needs and their emotional and their spiritual needs. He went far beyond conducting His life in a random manner.

     Jesus wasn't concerned about what church people attended, what clothes they wore, their economic status, their marital status, their skin condition, their habits, their profession. He reached far beyond that and cared about the condition of their heart.

     I am thinking that as a Christ-follower, I better not just do random, haphazard acts of kindness. I should, like Jesus, be more concerned about relationship than religion. "Go...sin no more and don't tell people what I have done." No need for a Hallmark card to make an announcement. Jesus' one concern was that he made a person's life better. Shouldn't that be mine?

    I guess the key is to remember to rely on the Grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit so that my acts of kindness can be less random and more filled with purpose and humility.