A Real Christian? - Glynis M. Belec

I sit in the opthamology department of the hospital waiting for my 85 year old Dad to be summoned to the glaucoma testing suite. I look around. People are everywhere. In the city I find that people in general don't share their smiles as much as they do in the small town from whence I hail. The plain, beige walls where the only decor is signage that blurts out Danger, Exit, Reception Area and more, seem sterile and indifferent. The receptionist smiles a serviceable smile and is efficient and detailed in acquiring information. There is no chit-chat or discussion about the weather.

I try. "He was really nice, wasn't he?" I comment, referring to the older gentleman volunteer who pushed Dad's wheelchair to the reception area. "Yes, John is a good volunteer." At least she does acknowledge and share a thought. But in a moment we are sent on our way and down the hall to yet another waiting area.  No more interaction.

I look at the staff as I stand next to my Dad's wheelchair in the second area. For the most part I cannot discern the nursing personnel, the technicians, administrative assistants (is that what they are called now?) or the housekeepers. The doctors wear the same garb as maintenance people. Volunteers share the same smock as the food servers.  The only ones I know for sure are the Tim Horton's waitstaff in their distinct browns.

 I remember how my mother disapproved of this lax in uniform and how she decried the professional standards of dress. Being a tightly trained, British through and through State Registered Nurse, she was used to white uniforms that had to be immaculate, hair up and off the shoulders with nursing caps pinned precisely into position.

A blue floral-clad smocked gal came up to me as I sat in the waiting room with Dad.

"Do you know if there is someone in the room?"

First of all I wondered why she asked me. Maybe because I was writing in my notebook I appeared as a staff member?  Luckily I happened to have noticed a woman enter the room with the technician/nurse/opthamologist a short while ago, I was able to tell her that there was someone behind the closed door. She thanked me and left just as quickly as she arrived. I was none the wiser as to who she was or why would she ask me such a question.

After she left I started to think about how much easier it would be if nurses went back to wearing white; doctors went back to wearing green scrubs; technicians donned white labcoats, and so on. It sure would make life easier for hospital clients, patients and visitors alike.

Then I got to thinking about Christians and what a real Christian looks like. How can people spot a real Christian in this crazy tossed salad we call society? It would be easy if all Christians wore one colour; or had a tattoo on the right cheek; or donned a black hat with a superimposed image of an icthus on the front. But it doesn't work that way.

I always loved this quote from St Francis of Assisi:

“Preach the Gospel at all times and when necessary use words.”

I'm thinking that's what a real Christian looks like - someone who preaches without speaking. There are no cookie cutter designs so that we all stand out physically. However our love for Christ stands out when we serve Him gladly and without reservation. That, to me, is the sign of a real Christian. 

For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in,   

Matthew 24; 34-35

 Actions speak louder than words? Much louder? Hmmm...food for thought...

Small Steps within a Big Purpose - Marcia Laycock

I think I stopped breathing. The small ad in the coming events column of a small newspaper seemed like another divine revelation. God seemed to be nudging me on to write.

We had just moved to Alberta. My husband was taking on his first church after graduating from Briercrest Bible College. I'd already had two momentous "God incidents" telling me that He wanted me to write for Him. The first came at Briercrest when a friend insisted I accompany her to a seminar called Speak Up with Confidence, led by Carol Kent. In the process of talking about speaking Carol talked a lot about writing and God lit a fire in me to write for Him.

But how to begin? I knew nothing about manuscript preparation, or submission guidelines or any other essential information that would help me break into print. But God supplied. In the first week in our new home my husband met with the previous pastor of our new church. Pastor Don laid out a long list of responsibilities. He had just stood up to go when he turned back and said, "Oh and I almost forgot, you have to write a weekly column for the paper and it's due tomorrow."

My husband came home with his head swimming, overwhelmed by all the responsibilities, and asked if I could "put something together for the paper." I wrote my first devotional that night, took it down to the editor the next day and was delighted when he said it was fine. That was the beginning of my new column, The Spur, which ran in that paper for eight years and in another for about twelve years. That column developed into three devotional books.

It wasn't long after that I saw the ad for the Alberta Christian Writers' Fellowship, meeting in a small church about an hour's drive from where we lived. I was delighted to learn there was such a thing as a Christian writers' organization. I attended that meeting and several more over the next year. I began attending the workshops they held and entered the contests they ran each year. Then I was asked to be part of the executive committee of ACWF. That was the beginning of my history with the group, which was to become Inscribe Christian Writers' Fellowship.

As I attended the conferences and entered the contests my writing improved by leaps and bounds. I learned how to submit my work and began to have success in publishing. The encouragement of those who had been writing for some time was invaluable.

I can say, definitively, I would not be where I am today without the help of Inscribe and its members. I feel privileged to have served on the executive for several years with people I have laughed and cried with, people who have become close friends as well as colleagues. It has been a delight, over these last twenty years to meet writers of like mind who strive for excellence as they write for the kingdom of God.

There have been many small steps along the way, all of them leading to God's purpose for my life, to honour and glorify Him through all I do. Inscribe Christian Writers' Fellowship has played a vital role in that process.

This post is my contribution to the 'Inscribe Summer Blog Tour'. For more about the tour, a blogging schedule, or to find out how to join Inscribe, go to the above blog tour link. If you leave a comment, you will also be eligible for some great prizes!


Marcia Laycock won the Best New Canadian Christian Author Award for her novel, One Smooth stone. She has also published three devotional books and recently released Abundant Rain, a devotional ebook for writers of faith. You can download it in any format at www.smashwords.com/books/view/58017
Visit Marcia's website to learn more about her books and read her regular column, The Spur.

Press Through - Janis Cox

Press Through

by Jan Cox

artwork courtesy of Bill Osborne

Read: Matthew 14:24-26 Jesus Walks on Water

I attended my seventh Write! Canada Conference this past June. Each year I have come away inspired and ready to write for Him.

This year the Conference theme read, “Change the World with Words”.

Every year I hear, and this time was no exception, thoughts of insecurity. Myself included.

Why? Why, as Christian writers, are we insecure in our calling?

Grace Fox covered this topic in her continuing class, “What authors need to know” and in her plenary session. Grace is author of the book Moving from Fear to Freedom. She has recently released a Bible study and DVD based on her book.

Words of insecurity filtered into our prayer times with members requesting direction from God. “Is this the path You have chosen for me?”

“What am I doing here?”

“Should I be a writer?”

Oswald Chambers tackles this, calling it the deception of the Enemy – this self-doubt. He reminds us about Peter and how he walked on water for a bit – then saw where he was, lost his focus and started to sink.

Every time we lose focus of the One who calls us we have self-doubt.

“We step right out on God over some things, then self-consideration enters in and down we go.”

Chambers says if we start asking questions of whether we should or shouldn’t, we are in essence debating with God." (Oswald Chambers June 18)

"Never begin to say – "Well, I wonder if He did speak?" Be reckless immediately, fling it all out on Him." (Oswald Chambers June 18)

How reckless are you? Do you step out of the boat when He calls you to write something?”

Can we as writers “Change the World with words?”

I think we can.

Let’s step out of the boat together! Press though our uncertainties and walk on that water.

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back.

So let's keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision—you'll see it yet! Now that we're on the right track, let's stay on it (Philippians 3:12-16 The Message).

Jan Cox

Jan, a former school teacher and small business owner, found a new passion in writing in her retirement. She has published two devotionals and a number articles for magazines and a Bible study. She is owner of Under the Cover of Prayer and moderates the site. She also writes at A Better Way. Jan has written a children’s book in which she is also the watercolour illustrator. She hopes to publish it this year.

Ordinarily - Marcia Lee Laycock

Ordinarily I don't like it when people send me those forwarded-forwarded-forwarded emails. Ordinarily I consider them a waste of time and often delete them without opening them. But lately a dear friend who knows what it's like to be facing an illness like cancer has been sending them regularly. She has picked beautiful pictures, inspirational thoughts and, best of all, laugh-out-loud jokes. I've been reading them and I must admit I've even gotten to the point where I look forward to finding one in my inbox each day.

I guess my idea of wasted time has shifted a bit. I stare out the front window of our home more often, just to watch the wind ripple on the pond across the street - (I call it pondering ;0 ). Each time I walk by them I lean down to smell the flowers my husband bought me last week when I had to spend the day having tests at the hospital. I scratch my cat's ears more than I used to. I stand on our back deck, watch the clouds and listen to the laughter of our neighbour's children. I lay awake in the morning and stare at the outline of my husband's face in the early morning sun. The accumulation of these little things seems to make a difference as life has slowed into a rhythm of waiting.

I've also found that scriptures - those oh-so- familiar passages that can seem trite or even cliché at times - have a whole new depth now that I have a deeper understanding of my need for them. I get regular emails with scripture delivered to my inbox too, and I open them first. The accumulation of verses seems to make a difference when my mood slips a little, when my heart is longing for something beyond this reality to hang onto.

One of the passages that arrived recently was this one from Philippians 4:8 -"whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable ... if anything is excellent or praiseworthy... think about such things."

I noticed there was no action connected to this passage, just thinking. You can do that anytime, anywhere, but to do it deeply you have to slow down a little. You have to pause, perhaps stare out a window at a small pond, and just think.

Ordinarily I wouldn't be doing such things. My life would be bustling with urgencies like deadlines and projects and to-do lists. But there is nothing ordinary about living with cancer. It changes things. It changes you. Ordinarily I would think that a bad thing but now I treasure it. I treasure the tingling awareness of this world now that I now how tenuous my hold on it really is. I treasure the small things, the pondering.

Interesting - I seem to be smiling a lot.