Gethsemane by Sharon Heagy

 

Photo courtesy of Dallas Heagy

Gethsemane. The word floated in and out of conscious thought as I considered this month’s post. The chorus of the old hymn ‘Lead Me to Calvary’ whispered accompaniment.  “Lest I forget Gethsemane; Lest I forget Thine agony; Lest I forget Thy love for me, Lead me to Calvary.” (Did you sing that line?)

The song was written in 1921 by Jennie Evelyn Hussey at the age of 47. It was perhaps one of the last hymns that William J Fitzpatrick put to music as he passed away the same year. And while there are many stories and lessons to be learned from these two composers, the word Gethsemane left me intrigued.

Gethsemane - or in Hebrew, gat shemanim – means olive press or place where olives are pressed. If you hold olives in your hand, it’s difficult to imagine oil coming out of them, much less enough to fill a bottle. The process from olive to oil reminds me of the process of salvation and the transformative life one lives as a believer in Jesus. 

Olives are picked. “No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent Me draws them.”[i] The fruit is then washed, just as our sins are washed away in the blood of the Lamb.[ii]  The olives are then crushed, pit and all, before the pulp is pressed, releasing the very best olive oil in the first squeezing. The Potter’s house story, where God shows Jeremiah that He can re-form the pot as He sees fit, and Paul’s 2^nd letter to the Corinthians where he is hard pressed but not totally crushed, came to mind.[iii] The first and best extraction is cloudy and flavourful but the oil will lose both qualities the more it is strained and processed. If it ends up overheating from the friction of the crushing process, it will lose both flavour and quality.

Jesus’ salvation is perfect even though “now we see through a glass darkly.”[iv] There is nothing to be added or subtracted.

But how does the olive oil process relate to writing?

First we pick a topic and a genre, or it seemingly picks us as the Lord directs. Then we write a first draft which will need to be ‘washed,’ getting rid of all the twigs and dirt, cleaning up the copy. Then comes the hard edit, the crushing and slashing of words, phrases, sentences and perhaps entire paragraphs. Then we re-read and re-write, condensing and pressing our work into a publishable piece or just something that can be read and perhaps bless others. The Lord’s hand is on the entire process as we allow, and when He says, ‘It is finished,’ He means it. We should not overthink, overheating our brains and adding or subtracting more than necessary and losing both the ‘flavour and quality’ of our work.

    I am thinking perhaps I need a picture of an olive tree in my writer’s space. It would serve as a reminder of how God grew the tree, the blossoms and the olive fruit. He then took the olives and transformed them into something totally different. He can do that with you and He can do that with me. Amazing. Thanks be to God.

 

 

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[i] John 6:44 NIV

 

[ii] Hebrews 10:10

 

[iii] Jeremiah 18:2-6, 2 Corinthians 4:8-9

 

[iv] 1 Corinthians 13:12

 

Note: The picture above is olive wood my husband obtained in Saskatoon as he has taken up lathe work. The wood will be transformed into many beautiful things as the Lord guides my husband’s hands.

 

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.

Generous Words ~ Guest Post by Barbara Fuller

 

The book of Proverbs has a lot to say about words. Wise words that bring healing. Truthful words that stand the test of time. Encouraging words that cheer a person up. Kind words that sweeten a person’s day

Kind words are like honey—sweet to the taste and good for your health. Proverbs 16:24

Proverbs also talks about words to avoid: perverse words, violent words, seductive words, cutting words, destructive words. 

The apostle Paul was generous with his words that still bless us centuries later. He wrote some powerful words to the church at Corinth: 

You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion, and through us your generosity will result in thanksgiving to God. (2 Cor. 9:11)

How has God enriched you? How are you being generous with those treasures? To write is to express yourself. To share what you write is an act of generosity. If the treasure or gift that God has given you is that of writing, what does it mean to be generous with your words?

Worship

God has been so generous to us in Creation, Redemption and the provision of our daily needs. Generosity is an act of worship where you give without holding back, trusting that the One who provided it in the first place will continue to provide for your needs. 

God has blessed us with words to share. As Jesus, the Word made flesh, revealed God, so our words should impart a sense or essence of the truth, beauty, and love of Jesus Christ. It is an act of worship to send our words out into the world, trusting that God himself will use them to inspire and enrich the lives of others in ways we may never see.

Caring for Needs of Others

Generosity means caring for the needs of others. One of the cherished values in many cultures is hospitality – a beautiful expression of generosity. I remember visiting a family in a Moldovan village some years ago. Our host ushered us to a table laden with food and once we were all seated, he and his family disappeared into another room while we ate. My friends and I were puzzled. Why didn’t the family want to eat with us? Only later did I learn that they didn’t have enough food for everyone so rather than making their guests feel we should hold back, they generously waited until we were all done and then the family made do with whatever was left. They put us and our needs ahead of their own.

It's the same with writing. While the expression of my heart in words may be therapeutic for me, I must consider the needs of my readers. How will my words help, encourage, inform or inspire the one who reads them? Who am I writing for and what needs do I hope to meet? I want to bless others with words of hope, healing, and encouragement. 

Vulnerability

When guests are expected, I tidy up, vacuum, wipe the counters and plump up the pillows, and relegate the dog to the back room. I do it because I want my guests to feel welcome and comfortable. (My Lab wants to welcome them too but he misses the cues about comfort levels with personal space!) But if I am perfectly honest, I want to not feel embarrassed. 

Generosity in the form of hospitality risks being judged, taken advantage of, or even robbed. I love the story in ‘Les Misérables’ when Jean Valjean steals the candlesticks from the bishop’s home and is accosted by the police. The sergeant takes him back to the bishop and holds out the sack of stolen property. The bishop beautifully and generously states “You can’t steal what is freely given” and then gives him the silver candlesticks he left behind. 

When I write, I open my heart. Of course, I tidy up my writing, through grammar and spell check and a good edit. But it takes courage to share something from your own life. I may think that my story doesn’t matter or that nobody will care about it. I make myself vulnerable to criticism, judgment or raised eyebrows. However, with God directing my pen, I can be sure that taking that risk will help someone else see that they are not the only one who has felt that way, gone through that experience, failed so miserably or wanted to react in that manner. 

As we seek to be generous with our words, let’s honour and trust God, care for the needs of others, and be willing to open our hearts. May our generosity with our words bring much thanksgiving to God.

The words of the godly are a life-giving fountain. Proverbs 10:11

Barbara Fuller, a native of Nova Scotia, has been writing since she was a teenager. Now living in BC, she is currently working on her fifth book in the Inlight Bible Studies series. Barb enjoys her six grand-darlings, music, books, languages, traveling, and walking on beaches, preferably with her dog Toby. Find her books and her blog at Barbara Fuller.

Go Home! by Joylene M Bailey

 

I grew up near Winnipeg. It was difficult learning to ride a bike on our gravel road, but once I was competent I loved to ride up and down the road past all the acreages. Sun in my face, breeze in my hair, and fresh air in my lungs. 

There was only one hitch to hamper my happy rides: a yappy, snappy dog who'd come barrelling out of his yard to chase me. He terrified me. He'd bark and snap at my wheels, my pedals, my feet. 

Because of my terror, I'd lift my feet off the pedals. I'd get wobbly and lose my rhythm. But I quickly learned to channel the energy from my terror into the biggest meanest voice a little girl could muster, and holler, "Go Home!"

That's what Dad did when we rode the road together. Nothing seemed to frighten him. He'd just yell, "Go Home!" and keep pedalling. Eventually the dog would give up and go home.

I was thinking about that dog the other day as I began (again) to tackle my work in progress. There's been a mad dog biting at my heels as I try to work on this project. It's been trying to stop me in my tracks; to get the best of me. I've tried different ways to write the thing, but this yappy dog keeps taking away my focus. I'm losing my rhythm, getting wobbly, and it's terrifying me a little. 

Maybe the answer is to keep pedalling, no matter what. Tell that distracting dog to GO HOME! I might feel a little wobbly as I continue, but continue I must.

Brenda J. Woods's words, shared here on the blog last week, struck me: What crazy thoughts attack you right now? You don't have to live there. That is not the way of God.

No, this yappy dog is NOT from God. So I need to tell it to go back to where it came from, shift my focus from the dog at my heels to the writing road God has asked me to travel. 

Just keep pedalling. 

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Feature photo by Jill Wellington of Pixabay

Joy no longer lives on that gravel road near Winnipeg, but still enjoys riding her bike. She's written children's stories, short stories, and poetry, and especially enjoys writing for her blog, Scraps of Joy.