I Focus on What You See

1. (The following is a poem written by me for my Creative Writing class.  I don't often share my personal writing, but I enjoyed this process immensely and was encouraged to share publicly.) 

I do not feel the rush of wind as it tosses falling leaves.

I do not hear the grieving moan of the widow as she grieves.

But I see and can remember all that is in front of me.

I stop time for a moment, a glimpse, a breath in your story.

My job is sometimes art, sometimes hobby, my voice is unheard.

Life moves so fast that we can’t remember all that had occurred.

I sound almost violent when it is said I am used to shoot.

Each ‘shot’ I take is a thousand words; but I don’t speak.  I am mute.

I took those first, precious moments of your celebrated birth.

The smiles of proud loved ones forever telling of your worth.

I saw the horrors of war, the images burned in real time.

From first tin-type to digital, from unique to paradigm.

And when I am picked up, I can be a weapon or a tool.

The milestones, the laughter, treasured and guarded like a jewel.

I don’t decide where to focus, or if the image is posed.

I don’t decide which secrets are the ones to be exposed.

I can be manipulated, settings changed, altering the scene.

I’ve seen a million sunsets, and ugh… another selfie queen.

The last few years I’ve seen a lot of food I will never eat.

A, hello, cleavage central… Ladies, try to be more discreet.

The best images are candid, ones that show a world that’s true.

From the tender to the gritty, from beautiful to the cruel,

Like a thief, I steal the bounty of what won’t ever come again.

And yet that makes my job more special, as you ‘remember when.’

My best days are still ahead, as I’m hardly yet to my prime.

I took ten minutes to make an image in 1839.

Now, in just a blink, I capture moments on high-tech smart-phones.

I am launched into the sky to see on satellites and drones.

What was once only an option for some once in awhile

Is now common; so don’t just portray a pretend lifestyle.

Use me to capture special moments that take your breath away.

Let me help you mark the journey as you travel day to day.

I may change and be replaced with more advanced technology,

but I hold to the truth of the past without apology.

I don’t feel or hear, taste or touch, but the images I see

Help you to do all thee above as you touch a memory.

The Choices That Define You

Many times, as I go about my days, I sometimes think God tries to send me messages.  Oh, he will often use His Word to speak to me.  Or He will have a song that touches me at just the right moment.  Sometimes He even uses other people to speak into my life.  But, seeing as how I am a bookworm, He often uses the power of story.

When the same thing is repeated, a theme or a message, in a short amount of time, it tends to grab my attention.  I am awed at the ways God will speak to me.  The last few months have been a struggle in my life, and I have taken some nasty hits to my faith and my confidence.  God decided it was time to reveal some things to me, not to bring me down, but to bring peace and healing inside me, to fix things that I have avoided dealing with for a long time.

Luckily, even in the times of struggle and frustration and discouragement, His voice doesn't leave us.  He doesn't leave us.  The last few days have held wonderful gifts for me, that I didn't expect.

First, in reading Book Girl by Sarah Clarkson the other day, I was engrossed in a story she told about a tough time in her life.  She was discouraged and struggling, feeling powerless.  That's a scary place to be.  The world feels like it is crashing in, you are wounded and a bit lost, and you just want to quit.   You want to quit trying.  You want to quit hoping, as disappointment has shrouded you so often and for what feels like such a long time.

She encountered Lord of the Rings, and the messages in the story, the words craftily written long before she was born, helped change her perspective and give her strength.  She made the decision to turn back to God, despite the obstacles she faced.  She knew it wasn't going to be easy.  But, she felt it was a choice, and she wanted to make that choice in her story.  She learned that she wanted to be a part of something much more beautiful and bigger than herself, and the narrative of God has given her a role.

Today, I was reading Where There's Hope by Elizabeth Smart.  She writes in the beginning of the book about choice.  After being kidnapped and experiencing a nightmare for nine months, she was rescued and got to go home.  She now speaks to women around the country, and one of the things she talks about is choice.  We all have trials.  She writes, "I'm not suggesting that once you make the choice to move forward, your problems disappear, but making that choice is the first step down that path."

In just a couple days, I was reading about women that had made a choice to not let their struggles keep them down.  In essence, they were determined to live out what God had for them, despite the things that had brought them to a place where they could have given up.

But then there was more...

Sarah Clarkson, while reading The Fellowship of the Ring, came across the quote, "What must I do with the time given to me?"

She realized that she must fight bitterness and resist hopelessness.

Elizabeth Smart continued the quote above by saying, "We are so often worried that we will be defined by what happens to us, and yet, that sometimes happens - when we let it.  But it's important to remember that you are not defined by what happens to you.  You are defined by the choices you make after."

The trials and tough times that have brought me to my knees countless times and left me empty in such a deep, dark way have had consequences that I struggle to this day to accept.  In so many ways, I miss what used to be.  The emptiness from what was and no longer is lingers in my core, even as I try to fill it with the Lord and good things, such as reading to my child or working diligently in my college classes.

I miss the passion in my husband's voice when God placed something in his heart or revealed something in Scripture.  I miss the security of knowing that we shared the same vision for our lives.  I miss his presence beside me as he prayed with me.  We went through so much, and watched God do so much, things that we were told were impossible.  Is he just struggling?  Is he discouraged and disillusioned?  Can I blame him, really?

I miss my daughter.  Yes, I respect her right to make her own choices as an adult.  After the health battles that nearly cost her life over and over, and then the stress of the last couple of years, she deserves to make a fresh start.  But... I still miss her.

The things I miss... I can't change.  Like the Serenity Prayer says, "God grant me the wisdom to accept the things I cannot change."  Missing what was in the past doesn't mean that everything was perfect then, just that it feels as if a lot has been lost.  The cost, sometimes, of other people's choices and actions can be very high.  Like Elizabeth Smart said, however, "You are not defined by what happens to you..."  The choices I make now are what will define me.

Henry David Thoreau said, "The question is not what you look at, but what you see."  I can continue to look at the things that were and have changed, or I can look at the now and place my trust and future once again back in His very capable hands.  He is not surprised by all that has happened.  He is not shocked.  He still has a plan, even when it all feels like climbing a mountain in a mudslide. 

I wasn't the only one that has faced tough times and trials, that has had to look honestly at my past, both at my choices and the choices made by others.  I'm not the only one that had cried rivers of tears, grieved deeply, been overwhelmed, and wished there was a way to fix all that went wrong.  But of course, sometimes my efforts to fix things make them worse.  Sometimes, God has to work things out in His way and in His timing.

Even more, I have learned that this is simply a chapter in the story.  Yes, the challenges have been tough and possibly have changed me forever.  But, there have been lessons also, and revelations that God has given me.

I ask myself, what will I do with the time given me?  What choices will I make from this point that will define me?  Will I love well?  Will I value the person God created me?  Will I choose to hope?  Will I choose to keep going, even when faced with tough times, no matter what?

I am determined to do so.

Reading Books about the Reading Life

I am reading two books this week that have to do with living an book-centered life.  In other words, I'm a Book Girl because I'd Rather Be Reading!

Sarah Clarkson and Anne Bogel both so elegantly and beautifully describe the reading life.   Any woman that had delved deep into the beauty of reading, the wondrous reality of living multiple lives, the visitation of places I many never physically travel to see, the myriad of people that I may never met but feel as if I know and love... this is a blessed life.

There are many in my life that aren't readers, or perhaps they don't read voraciously.  I always wonder if they know what they are missing, but the truth is that I am certain that areas that fulfill and inspire them give them a similar curiosity about others that don't share their passion.  My husband is a musician, and I sometimes wonder if he looks at his non-instrument playing wife and thinks that if I just picked up an instrument, I would understand.

I sometimes think how sad it is that non-readers can be content with one life.  Readers experience hundreds.  I can understand those that are obsessed with story told a different way, such as through film.  I get that perhaps reading isn't their thing, but story still touches a part of them deep inside.  I think story touches us all in some way, or it wouldn't be such a powerful medium.  The news wouldn't have many watchers if no one wanted to know that inside scoop.  The blockbuster movies wouldn't be worth the investment of millions or billions of dollars if there wasn't people that wanted to see the story... on a bigger than life screen.  And the New York Times Bestseller List would not exist if people weren't drawn to the stories that cause them to want to snuggle on the couch or sit on a park bench in the warmth of the sun and escape into a different reality.

Story drives us.  It gives our lives meaning, as we think about our lives as a story.  The child that died too soon lives on in the hearts of parents and in the stories that made up his or her short life.  In the Christian faith, the Bible encourages us to share our testimonies  (Revelation 12:11).  Why?  Because the stories of what God had done in our lives is powerful.  It is inspirational.

No matter how often I write about the importance of reading, I always still feel an urge deep inside to talk more, to write more.  My desire is to see our nation once again be a A Literate Nation.  I see quality literature as such an encouragement for Christians, and believe that Christians Need Story, need to redeem the art and create such intriguing plots and deep characters that even non-Christians will want to read the works.  I believe that quality literature can Redeem the Day when it has not gone well, and possibly teach lessons to young and old alike in a way that is relatable on a much deeper level than an sermon.

I honestly feel like reading has saved my life.  There are the countless times that books find me just as I need them, just as I am enduring a struggle and a book comes into my world that changes my perspective or encourages me or lightens my world.  That has happened too many times to be a coincidence.  But, without books, without the characters that have walked certain paths with me, I don't know if I would have made it through some dark periods in my life.

As a child, I didn't have many friends.  I would make friends, but eventually I would move and have to leave them.  There was very little stability in my childhood and teen years.  I never realized just how much it impacted me until I was older.  After all, it was what I knew.  I saw that others had different lives, that didn't move every year or two, that had friends "since kindergarten."  That was not me.  I moved eight times before I turned eighteen.  I went to four high schools in four years.  It was a special kind of isolation, always being the new girl, never allowed to keep friends.

I turned to books and to writing.  I first, in elementary, met the Ingalls family and the Woodlawn family.  Laura Ingalls Wilder was my friend.  I devoured her books, over and over.  I kept thinking that The Long Winter was atrocious, but I would so rather be in the Ingalls kitchen, starving as the bread flour diminished more and more and the blizzards kept blowing across the open prairie, than move one more time. Caddie and I, in Caddie Woodlawn, were tomboys together.  At the end of the novel where she got a painful lesson and wanted to embrace being a girl, I was right there with her, wanting to make the changes with her.

In middle and high school, I became friends with Elizabeth and Jessica, the identical twins in Sweet Valley High.  I struggled to make friends, moving so often.  Eventually, I didn't even want to try very much to make friends and fit in because I knew that I would just end up having to leave them anyway.  It broke my heart every time.  But Elizabeth and Jessica and their friends and their family in these sweet little books wouldn't abandon me.  They were there to stay.  I wouldn't have to leave them.  Even if I had to leave them, I could rest assured that the next town or school library would have them available.  I clung to them, even when the reading level was way too easy.  I clung to them even when peers in my class would laugh at and mock me for reading those "kiddie" books.  Why?  Because they were stable.  They were there for me, with their adventures and deep-down love for each other.  Their family did things my family rarely did, like go out to eat and go to the movies.  When I read, I felt for a brief time, as if I belonged.

School was a nightmare for me.  Academically, I did okay, which is a surprise with all the moving.  Emotionally, I was scarred from the bullying and rejection.  Perhaps that is one of the reasons that I believe homeschooling is such a blessing, because I hated the environment of school... and I had been in several.

Books were my refuge.  I remember checking out Little Women for the first time, and falling in love with Jo.   And then I met Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables.  Suddenly, I read about having a bosom friend, and felt as if she was one for me.  We both hated our hair, her the red and me the frizzy curls.  We both felt misunderstood.  We both had a temper.  It was love.

What would I have done without the characters in books to be there for me?  Would the constant moving, the instability, the rejection and loss... would all that have left me at the end of any hope?  Would I have become full of rage?  Would I have become suicidal?  I was so lonely, so desperately wanting to be loved and validated, and I didn't have that from the people around me.  I experienced glimpses of that love and validation and warm family atmosphere in the firelight of a cabin, listening to Pa play the fiddle.  I found it as I journeyed with Laura into teaching, living away from my family for the first time, saving money to help pay for my sister to attend the school for the blind.  I found it as I bullied Clara, and was severely reprimanded by my mother, only to be given understanding by a tender father that, in real life, I had not known.  For a brief moment, I knew what it was to feel unconditional love and gentle guidance. It had been missing from my life.

I found comraderie when a boy called me "Carrots" and I broke a slate over his head.  Well, it happened to Anne, but at that moment, I understood her.  I understood how it felt to feel mocked and made fun of at a new school, as the new girl.  The next time I was teased for my crazy curly hair, I thought of that moment.  I never broke a slate over anyone's head, but I held my head high and walked on.  And when I cut my hair and it looked bad, I remember the horror of when Anne died her hair green, and having to live with the consequences.

I met friends that understood the big and small things, and I met them in the pages of books. 

As I read Sarah Clarkson's words about how books were so foundational in her life, or listen on Audible to Anne Bogel talking about growing up as a reader and how it impacted the woman she would become, I appreciate each woman's encouragement and validation that books mean just as much to them as they do to me, that the characters and places helped form them as they did me.  It is as if only other readers can "get it."  I can't imagine my life without books because I feel in many ways they "saved" me.  Reading two books at the same time about living a book-centered life, to me, feels like making friends with women I don't know and may never meet in person.  They "get" me and "get" it, when it comes to reading.  For that, I am so thankful.

A Quiet Life

¹¹ Make it your goal to live a quiet life, minding your own business and working with your hands, just as we instructed you before. ¹² Then people who are not believers will respect the way you live, and you will not need to depend on others.  1 Thessalonians 4:11-12

My Grandmother was a quiet lady.  She had a quiet faith.  She was plain about what she believed, but she was the kindest lady I've ever known.  Her faith was blatant, a part of her, but she didn't use it as a weapon to hurt others.  When she was upset with someone, she didn't tell them or others that they weren't "real" Christians.  She was humble, knowing she was flawed in her own self, and depending on God to change her heart.  Her prayer list showed that she did many of her battles on her knees.  

She was human and made mistakes, but her love for Jesus was clear. She would be sad about some of the circumstances that have arisen in our family over the last few months.  She would, perhaps, not agree with my decisions.  But she would love me anyway, and she would pray.  That is most important.  I always knew she was praying for me.

In this age of flashy, of collecting likes, shares, and people on social media, it seems strange to think of a quiet life.  And yet, the Bible is clear that we should make it a goal.  Why?  Perhaps it is because, like the example set by my grandmother, a quiet life of faith is one that is steady, not dependent upon the ups and downs of circumstances.  A quiet life is one that finds its strength in God, not in how many people agree with my lifestyle.  A quiet life is counter of what is popular today.

I understand loud.  I have five daughters, and when they were younger, quiet was not something that happened often.  I would love the late evenings, when they were all finally in bed, and I could have a few moments of quiet.  Even today, when the family goes to bed, I take a bath and read and embrace the quiet.  My girls are nearly all grown now. When we all get together, it isn't quiet.  It is full of laughter and talking and even some healthy debates.  No, it isn't quiet.  But the chaos is time together, enjoyed and full of love.  This loud is loud from external, and not the same as the loud that I think God speaks against.

That is not the same kind of loud as the loud life that comes from inside.  A loud life is full of noise, but it is also full of striving and desperation and wounds and ups and downs.  It's full of fears and anger.  The loud life is sometimes loud within, from within relationships to within the heart and mind. I've lived the loud life.  I've had enough drama to last five lifetimes. While I can't control the actions of other people, I don't want my heart and mind to be full of noise and chaos, causing health issues. 

I much prefer the quiet life, quiet inside, resting in Jesus, feeling His presence, grateful for my blessings.  There are many reasons, I am certain, that the Bible encourages us to make a quiet life a goal.  One of those reasons is so that I don't have to depend on others (verse 12).  While I am sure that working steadily brings about a financial security, I personally believe there is much more in this verse.  I think a quiet life, with a steady quiet faith, leads to reliance on Jesus, for acceptance and validation and fulfillment, not relying on other people that often can't give to you what you need because they are desperately seeking it themselves. 
  
A quiet life has become my goal.  It was a goal that God stated clearly in His Word we should strive to achieve.  Deep breath.... I can do this... I can close my eyes, breathe in His presence, and thank Him for my blessings.  I can give myself a break, that wounded, loud girl within.  I can give her the grace and mercy that she needs while she lets go of hurts, heals wounds, learns to set boundaries, and forgives herself for seeking from other people what only God can give.   I can give that girl a lot of love and time, because she needs it, because God loves her, and because, despite the loud in her overthinking mind, she didn't deserve to be treated as disposable.

So many times a quiet life seems boring.   My goals are still there.  I still have dreams.  But instead of a desperate need to fill a bucket before life is over, it is more like a journey.  I don't have to strive so hard to get, get, get. I don't have to fill my life with background noise.  I just have to keep steady, work diligently, and understand that the quiet life is like a good book.  Yes, there are plot twists.  There are chapters that fill you with joy and laughter.  There are chapters where the tears flow from heartbreak and despair.  God is a master storyteller. 

Quiet isn't boring.  It is peaceful.  And, as I sit beside my daughter, reading her a chapter of the read-aloud we are sharing, or making dinner for my family, or sitting in the evening with a cup of coffee and a good book, the quiet life seems much bigger than the loud life, because it opens up such a large space in my heart and mind. Perhaps this is the season I am in now, where I am done striving and feeling desperate.  Perhaps I am tired of the tension and strife that comes from unhealthy relationships where I change myself over and over to be accepted and validated and respected, and failing miserably over and over.  I just can't do that anymore.
  
My heroes aren't the movie stars that seek fame and personal glory.  My heroes are the beautiful women that loved me and pursued me, steady in their love, faithful to God.  My dream romance isn't the man that makes millions and can sweep me off my feet.  My dream romance is the husband that works steadily to provide for his family, that comes home to me and his children every night, that holds my hand as we drive down the street, and teases me about my curls trapping his fingers as he brushes the stray tendrils from my face before leaning down for a sweet kiss. I have that in reality.

I'm not ambitious anymore. I have seen the sneaky bondage of ambition, the selfish motives people often use in the name of God.  I long to be genuine, to have roots that grow deep in God.  The thing about roots that most people don't consider is that roots are unseen.  They are hidden.  They bring steadiness and strength to the plant, to what is seen, but they aren't noticed unless they are dug up.  I was always surprised, when gardening, just how deep the roots were and how strong they became.  It took a lot of work to dig up a well-rooted plant.  That is what I long for... being well-rooted.  When the storms come, when others try to rip up my life, it will fail because my roots are deep and strong and stable.  They grew that way in the unseen, in the steady, in the quiet. 
 
My heart over the last few years has changed.  Give me the quiet life.

Gifts Differing

We all have God-inspired gifts.  This has circled around in my busy mind often over the last couple of years.  Too often in this world certain gifts are given a higher status than others.  Perhaps this is unintentional.  Perhaps this is simply a matter of differing personalities.  There is a cliche that seems to ring true about the innate gifts bestowed by God:  "The squeaky wheel gets the grease."

Our gifts will often come naturally in our lives.  Practice will sharpen and hone skills.  To practice the gifts and talents that God has placed in our lives is to show Him we are good stewards of what He has given us. This is just as important as being a good steward of our finances.  Our gifts and talents - and we all have them - are given to us to enable us to fulfill our role in the body of Christ.

Our gifts are not about us.  They may fulfill us in countless ways.  They may be useful tools to help us make a living and/or inspire others.  They may even bring us attention, but they are not about us.  The gifts we have inside of us are about what Jesus would have us do on this little planet HE loves so dearly, for His glory, not our own.

It is dishonoring to Him to want someone else's gifts and talents.  It happens all the time... that insidious treachery... envy.  We see someone else's gifts, perhaps the gifts that routinely gain attention and validation, and it can feel as if our own gifts are not as valuable because they aren't so public or so extroverted.  And yet, that is insulting to God.  It is insulting to look lowly upon our own gifts.  Not all gifts are ones that gain attention or accumulate likes and shares on social media.

It sneaks up on us, this devaluing of our own talents and gifts.  Perhaps it is the sin of this world that tells us that what is inside of us doesn't measure up to what others display.  Maybe it is the wrong people in our lives have been allowed to be too loud in our minds, crowding out the voice of God that says the gifts He gave us are worthy and valuable and part of His plan.  Perhaps it is our own view of the world, where we see that those squeaky wheels never seem to have enough grease, and instead of ignoring the sound, the world feeds the squeaky wheel continuously, forgetting that a little grease would help all the wheels.  Encouragement is quite different than praise.  Everyone needs encouragement occasionally.

Sometimes, we have to grease our own wheels.  This isn't to say that we have to seek validation from others or be vain and self-serving.  It simply means that neglecting to take care of the gifts inside of us is not being a good steward of God's gifts.  Sometimes we call this self-care. Sometimes we call this being true to who we are.

I have been reading a book series to my eleven-year old daughter called The Penderwicks.  The series' main characters are a group of four sisters; Rosalind, Skye, Jane, and Batty (Elizabeth).  These sisters are very different from each other.  They have different personalities and different gifts.  Being raised by a single father for the first part of the series (until he remarries), because their mother died from cancer, the girls are very close to each other.  Their differences may bring about conflict occasionally, but they are each celebrated as the individuals they are, with their different gifts and talents.  One talent isn't placed above another.  The science and math loving Skye is very different from the creative, imaginative Jane.  The leadership of the oldest, Rosalind, is not more or less than the musical Batty.  In this way, this series for children sets an example where gifts differing is shown to be a beautiful thing to be celebrated.

I often feel that I am not certain how I feel about something until I write about it.  The act of writing engages a part of my brain and heart that allows me to evaluate and put order to the chaotic ramblings that often occur in my mind.  If I want to escape the world for awhile, I will read.  If I want to make sense of my world, I will write.  That has been true since I was a child, as the mountain of half-filled journals can attest.

I almost quit writing.  It is like trying to quit breathing.  I felt I was suffocating.  So I would write, but not share any of it.  I would write blog posts I never published.  I would journal through my tears, as I dealt with difficult times and deep wounds.  The truth is that writing is essential for me in processing life.  I will always write, because that is how I am wired.  It is also a means of expression that contains much rejection when shared publicly, as someone can always look at what is shared from the heart, even when shared with the best of intentions, and crush cruelly.

But God...  right?

I pray I never do that... diminish someone else's gifts and talents because they differ from mine. I know that opinions vary, but I see a lot of people crushing others instead of building and encouraging them to use their gifts, to walk in them, humbly and for God, not for self-seeking motives.  There isn't a limited supply of blessings that can only be doled out to a few.  There isn't a small, measurable stash somewhere that says that if one person does well in an area, it takes away from us.  That isn't how God works.  When He is honored and glorified, He multiplies.  This is why, as followers of Jesus, we never have to fight for position or live in envy as the rest of the world does on a normal basis.  We can be secure that what God has given us, the gifts He bestowed on us and wants us to use  to show His love in the world, He won't waste.  There is a security in knowing that He has us and we are a part of His plan, from the circumstances we go through to the gifts He doles out.  There is a plan. 

A couple months ago on a Wednesday evening at church, my pastor handed out a test.  After a couple jokes about being exposed to a pop-quiz, the results were comforting.  It was a Spiritual Gifts Inventory.  My pastor stated emphatically that, though the numbers of how big the gifts we have may change throughout our lives, depending on where we are and what we are dealing with at those times, the actual gifts will stay the same.  My top three were knowledge, writing, and teaching.  As a teacher, there are times when that gift has come front and center.  When my curiosity is demanding answers, my love of research will kick in and add to my knowledge.  And, as a natural extension of my being, I will write.  I will write what I have learned.  I will write what I feel.  I will write to make sense of my world.   I will write to calm my heart.  I will write as a way to teach. 

God has used a couple people to encourage me lately in delving deeper into my writing, to find ways to use what is inside me for His purposes.  Building up others is tricky, because I want to come from a place of sincerity.  No one needs false or fake anything, and I am terrible at portraying anything that isn't genuine.  As I pray about how to use my gifts for this purpose, the weight of responsibility is sobering.  Certainly, I am in the midst of many roles, and wish to balance them well.   That isn't unique to any of us as we all have day planners filled with responsibilities.  That doesn't mean that we are given a free pass from God when it comes to obedience and using well what He has placed in us. 

The gifts inside of us may differ, but God has a purpose for each one.  His purposes aren't trivial.  They are essential to what He wants to do and achieve in this world before He comes back.  When we don't utilize those gifts, or when we try to use gifts that have been placed in others, we hinder what God wants to do in our lives.  Imagine if the church, meaning the group of believers that make up the body of Christ, was encouraged in discovering and helping the individual gifts of each believer and then they walked in those gifts for the glory of God.  There would be no distinction for the Christian between secular and sacred, as we would be doing all for the Lord in every area of our lives.