They Call Me Pastor by Bob Jones

The July prompt invited us to explore a genre we have never written in. Mine is poetry. I researched the various types of poetry: free style, haiku, ode, elegy, epic, ballad, acrostic, sonnet, and limerick to name a few.

Here’s my attempt at my own definition of freestyle poetry.

Being a pastor is not something to which I aspired.
It certainly wasn't a childhood desire.
By nurture, I'm a people person.
By nature, I’m the opposite version.

See a turtle on a fence post?
It didn't get there on its own
someone placed it there alone.
My fence post is a platform
that is not the norm,
of pastoral dare
for people under my care.

My most common connections with people occur
Sundays in the church foyer, which I prefer.

Preaching, teaching, praying, and meetings that are kept short,
Or officiating a wedding, a baby dedication or a celebration of some sort.

My most enduring connections are with people in crisis,
careening through a divorce,
facing debilitating distress,
suddenly bereaved,
with a loved one in need of help,
or diagnosed with a terminal illness,
not knowing where else to turn, who call for help.

We cry together,
struggle together,
pray together,
mourn together,
heal together.

Those circumstances create timeless connections.

We bond because of the shared pain and grace,
and thrive through the things we face.
We become warrior, sisters, brothers,
because our light has not been smothered.

It's easy to pick up a conversation after many months of separation,
renewed connections need no preparation.

Every so often, one of those connections does not stand the test of time.
Or trouble.

Seemingly out of the blue there is a change.

When my leadership,
spiritual insight,
ministry,
vision,
friendship,
are no longer adequate for their,
preference/need/circumstance,

and a close friend/co-worker/congregant
chooses to no longer be an ally,

I have to say,
“Ouch,”
and then,
“Grace and peace to you.”

…and continue to nurture and focus on the people still in my care.

I'd like to say that I have learned not to let such experiences of loss affect me, but I haven’t.

I’ve concluded that pain is the price of caring and vulnerability.
Jesus understood that.

After all,
who was it that experienced the first, “Judas Kiss?”

My pastoral ministry has spanned forty-four years, however in many ways I feel like a rookie.

I suppose that’s good because it means that each day brings new,
challenges,
complexities,
opportunities,
ways of doing things, and
ways of dealing with life.

The newness compels me to lean hard into Jesus.

No two days of ministry are EVER the same.

Variety is the spice of life,
and my pastoral experience is 5-pepper spicy.

There is nothing I would rather be than a pastor,
Even though other careers

To hear someone, someday say
that my life helped saved the day
or inspired them to pursue pastoral
would be my highest commendation.

Til then,
I will keep the faith,
fight the good fight,
run with perseverance,
long for His appearing,
forget what is behind, and
press toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me.

And there you go. How did I do?

Thank you for reading all the way through.

Exploring Poetry by Sandi Somers

 

First Limerick 

During my second year of teaching, I introduced limericks to my Grade Five class. We studied the rhythm and rhyme scheme. Then before asking each student to try writing one, we composed one together. Chuckles and laughter filled the classroom, and my chest filled with pride for my creative students. I’ve never forgotten it.

 

There was an old car without tires,

Who always ran over those liars.

When the liars got caught,

The car said, “O gosh!

I’ll never be sold to the buyers.” 

                            

There are times I’m inspired by poetry and spin off a well-known (to me) poem. To give a background to the poem below, my InScribe local writers’ group was practising alliteration, onomatopoeia, rhythm, and repetition, using as our model Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman” (read it here). One morning, with a sudden inspiration, I began to write my own spin off. I composed half of it in a few minutes, and the rest needed to be thought out carefully day by day. I submitted it to FellowScript, and it was published. You may have read it there. 

The Deadline

 (Apologies to Alfred Noyes’ “The Highwayman”)

 

The moon was a missile of motion

Sailing through starlit skies

And the shaft of light through the window

Shone as I typed through my tears

 

My mind lay bare in the moonlight—       

          Blank and bare in the moonlight

And the blood of my veins in the moonlight

Throbbed at my sweated brow

 

There was pressure at every keystroke

And cross-offs on every dark line

For I couldn’t see through my tears

The direction I should take.

 

Then softly a whisper I listened

And then I heard the Lord say

Look to me for insight

          Watch for me for insight

I’ll inspire you ‘fore midnight

And nothing can bar your way.

 

I whispered a prayer of great thanks

As I swirled words and phrases

T’was only God who had done it

Had given me words that I needed

 

My mind shone with brilliance

My thoughts flew like flickers

And this writer kept writing—

          Writing—writing

I kept writing to the dreaded deadline.

 

And now ere the stroke of midnight

Soft ere the stroke of midnight

The tip of my finger touched “Send”

The submission at last t’was complete.

 

And there you have it. Poetry brings images and vividness to life that sometimes can’t be expressed in prose. Poetry elevates our language. I might say that I was inspired to write a poem, but the psalmist began with these wonderful words: 

 

My heart is stirred by a noble theme as I recite my verses for the king;

my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer. 

Psalm 45:1 (NIV)

 

Sandi Somers writes mostly non-fiction, but has explored fiction, particularly historical and Biblical fiction. Most of her poetry learning has come from poets in her InScribe local writers’ group. 

Image by Tea time reading poetry

No Zombies Here by Brenda J Wood

I started out with cookbooks. They suited my time frame.

Several years went by. I upped my writing game.

Columns in newspapers. Dabbles in low-cal food;

Potato menus yearly for Potato Festival brood.

And then I found my Jesus. Devos then my game;

Because, you all know it. I really wasn’t the same.

Heart-to-Heart, a devo. God, Gluttony & You - Bible study rage.

Others all soon followed as I wrote page on page.

The numbers kept on rising. Two books on grief alone.

Bible studies gathered. All of them my own.

Christmas, children, poetry. I wrote them all, my pets.

The Slightly Murderous Christian - that’s what old age gets.

Books on fat and eating. Cheering You Up on Your Weigh Down.

What’s left? I ask politely, as I write in dressing gown!

What’s left to challenge? On this one you can bet.

I haven’t written horror or Zombies. No, not yet.

Those all die a perfect death. My heart denies them breath.

And do remember friends. Keep writing unto death.

(Top)Image by NietjuhArt from Pixabay

Brenda J Wood has authored more than fifty books. She is a seasoned motivational speaker, who declares the Word of God with wisdom, humour, and common sense.

Confessions of a Flibbertigibbet by Lorrie Orr

 

Explore

This month’s prompt is taken from July 2014, written by Sandi Somers, and asks you to explore, to travel in new directions. Perhaps you tend to write in only one particular genre, or in one particular voice and style for a particular audience.

This month, become an explorer by selecting a genre or a voice/style that you haven’t worked in before (or rarely). Write for a different audience. Do a little research. Then tell us how you saw with new eyes, what you discovered, and if you would consider further writing in this genre.

I married a curious and adventurous explorer, and I've embraced much of his spirit, albeit with more trepidation. We've lived in and visited places that have my heart pounding and my hands sweaty. Our most recent adventure took us along two infamous roads in British Columbia. The portion of Highway 20 (Heckman Pass) known as The Hill descends from 5000 feet to sea level in 10 kilometres. There are no guardrails, up to 18% gradients, hairpin curves, and a very steep drop off the edge. "My life is in your hands," I kept reminding God as we crawled down the road in four-wheel drive-low range. The views at the end of the road, in Bella Coola, were well worth the chewed-off nails.

Exploring can be uncomfortable in any area of life, writing included. And it can be a grand adventure, full of unexpected twists and turns. Jane Austen's words "Indulge your imagination in every possible flight," taken with the idea of writing in different genres, fit my writing persona well. When asked what I write, I have to think for a moment to come up with a concise answer that doesn't make me sound like a flibbertigibbet. My writing life runs the gambit of genres from poetry to fiction to devotionals to nature writing. And I'm currently writing (nearly finished) a memoir. Whew! A children's story or two lurk at the back of my mind, as well.

Writing is a way of exploring my own heart and mind, and a way to communicate with others. Lists keep me organized. Pouring out my heart in written prayer connects me to Jesus. Journaling crystallizes my thinking. I hope that devotionals encourage those who read them. Louise Penny says that she began to write mysteries because that's what she enjoyed reading. That inspired me to begin a mystery of my own, now set aside until the memoir is finished. In my limited experience with fiction, I pray that spiritual truths will be made clear even if the name of Jesus is never written. Nature writing is inspired by the wonders of creation, from the tiniest ladybug to the grandeur of stars moving across a night sky.

I have always been one to try new things; hobbies, recipes, books, and crafts. My interests are varied. Several years ago I read Refuse to Choose: A Revolutionary Program for Doing Everything You Love by Barbara Sher. She groups people into two loose categories, Scanners and Deep Divers. How free I felt after reading that Scanners like me need to do different things, often have multiple careers, and can be involved in parallel fulfilling activities. This is the way God made me. I use my character trait without guilt, but I am careful to make the effort to focus on finishing projects rather than just having many unfinished pieces. Sticking with a project until it's done is important.

As Gerard Manley Hopkins wrote, "The world is charged with the grandeur of God," and although Hopkins was speaking about Nature, God's grandeur includes human minds, created in God's image. I pray that my writing will, in a tiny way, reflect the glory of He who gave me the desire to write.

I will go anywhere, provided it be forward.

David Livingstone

Lorrie Orr writes from her home on Vancouver Island,

from where she accompanies her husband on adventures near and far,

always taking a notebook and a camera along to

record her thoughts and impressions.