April - The Good, The Bad and The Otherwise Indifferent

I'm in a funk. April has been a heck of a month, and while I realize there are still a couple of days of it left, I can't wait for it to be over.

Here's a summary of the highlights and lowlights of this month:

• Palm Sunday - dedication of the new church - great celebration
• John's birthday and celebrating it with our friends from Newfoundland
• Easter
• John's dad passing away - only 64 years old - way too young
• A succesful journal workshop
• This week a former co-worker's of John's passed away - only 48 years old - way, way too young
• TJ got an excellent mid-term report card
• I won a book (see previous post)

Work has been extremely busy. My massage therapist couldn't believe how knotted up I was yesterday - so much so, she's making me come back next week. Exhaustion is catching up on me a little, and I found myself last night reading Jennifer Louden's "The Woman's Retreat Book" (while lying in bed with the heating pad trying to recover from my somewhat sadistic massage) and wishing I could just run away by myself somewhere for a night or two. I dreamt of a day just spent reading, writing and creating - with no housework to do, no interruptions, no work. And definitely alone, because I'm not much company for anyone these days.

As always, when I dream these things a little nagging voice in the back of my head says "careful what you wish for"....but I don't think one afternoon of creative work, or one overnight get-away is too much.

So, I'm sending my men folk off smelt fishing tonight, and I declined to join them. Instead, I'm looking forward to curling up in bed, after a hot relaxing bath and digging into a good novel.

If I can just get through this weekend, it'll be May, and I'll be done with April. * o

April - The Good, The Bad and The Otherwise Indifferent

Some good news for my day

Check this out: "We have a winner"

Thanks Donna for a fun, and easy contest! Can't wait to read "Stealing Adda". * o

Some good news for my day

Betwixt and Between

Our Easter weekend had mostly been a time of enjoying the company of friends, good weather, good food and spiritual celebration and then took a blinding turn into never-land when my father-in-law passed away early Monday morning.

Before we could blink we found ourselves flying down to comfort and mourn with family, caught in that in between world of numbness and activity that makes up the passing of a loved one. We just got home tonight, and I feel like I still haven't caught up to where the week went and why.

Yesterday, at the funeral, I was especially struck by Father Quinlan's words - "we are all children of God and we are all broken. When we die, we are caught up in the awesome love of God and made whole again."

I like to think of my father-in-law, a child of God, made whole again - he deserves it after an often painful journey through this world.

And I like to think that no matter how many times this world might break me, there will come a time when God's awesome love will fix all that. * o

Betwixt and Between

Palm Sunday - New Beginnings

The sanctuary, before the dedication service this afternoon.

This is of course, the year of firsts for this church. First service, First Easter, etc. It was not the usual Palm Sunday fare but still a beautiful and moving service. A celebration of new beginnings. Despite nervous, shaking hands, I managed to light the altar candles without setting the Bishop or anyone else on fire.

I've never been a part of a "new" church building before. Most of the churches I've worshipped in throughout my life were already well established, older buildings by the time I was part of them. This morning I wrote that the new church doesn't quite seem like home, perhaps because we have not "lived" in it long enough. I wonder how long it will take to become so familiar that we don't notice it anymore? * o

Palm Sunday - New Beginnings

A year of Blogging

I've been blogging for a year now, this month.

In honor of this auspicious anniversary, I decided it was time for a "new" look! (Not me, the blog. I still look the same...). * o

A year of Blogging

Dancin' Dude and Paper Toys

Turn up your speakers and head over to David Bessler's site - make the pipe cleaner man dance just by moving your mouse! Have some fun!

Then, when you've had a little dance workout, visit The Toymaker, Marilyn Scott-Waters. Print out some of her paper toy designs, and treat your inner child to some play! This is a great site too if your fortunate enough to have a younger child around to play with you.

"A child's attitude toward everything is an artist's attitude" - Willa Cather * o

Dancin' Dude and Paper Toys

Creative Call - The Last Chapter

I just finished the last chapter in Creative Call. The last few weeks of working through the exercises in the book have taught me much about my creative self and I have learned to at least acknowledge it once in awhile! The twenty minutes of morning writing that I thought I would never do has become something I look forward to upon awakening and something I dearly miss when I don't get to it for a day or two.

The last chapter in the book discusses going on a retreat, taking time to highlight your daybook entries and come up with the three most important things you learned while working through the book. I'll have to write more on that later. Getting away for even a half day "retreat" is not going to be possible just yet, but I'm not going to let go of the idea entirely. * o

Creative Call - The Last Chapter

This Month at Pink Jasper

Here's your chance to win a free copy of "The Complete Writer's Journal", the featured giveaway this month at the Pink Jasper website.

The journal features quotes on writing and marketing from over 100 contributors (including yours truly), and will be available later this spring.

To enter the draw is easy, just send an email to pinkjasper@mac.com, and put "Contest Entry" in the subject line! * o

This Month at Pink Jasper

Artist Date - Tai Chi

sipping on chai tea
contemplating tai chi
master peng's voice echoes
hand connected to heart
open and closed
wave hands like clouds
cat like dance across the floor
just begin the journey
and remember to breathe
sipping on chai tea
on a cool April afternoon * o

Artist Date - Tai Chi

Collage Card

I made this card tonight with some papers I got from the latest issue of Artella magazine - I love getting a magazine with neat stuff you can make and play with! Kind of reminds of when I was kid - I used to love getting Humpty Dumpty magazine and doing the crafts and activities in it. We should never lose that sense of play! * o

Collage Card

Sunday, Sunday

Some Sundays are so perfect and peaceful, you just don't want them to end. Like this Sunday. Woke up to glorious sunshine. Got about a half hour of quiet journal time before the household woke up. Went to our new church and was absolutely uplifted by the joy of being in the new building (see previous post!). This afternoon I worked on some writing projects, and found out that I made into The Complete Writer's Journal, soon to be available from Red Engine Press (that was a nice surprise!). I sat on the deck and basked in the sunshine for awhile. Then, later this afternoon I put on my iPod and headed out the door for a walk, my favorite opera music serenading me sweetly all the way. With the sun on my face, the sky so blue and clear, music in my ears, I just wanted to spread out my arms and dance down the road. (I didn't though, you never know who might drive by!) Now the sun is setting, and I have a couple more hours before the day is over and I oh so don't want it to end . * o

Sunday, Sunday

In the Morning Shouts of Joy

Lord, it was so wonderful worshipping in the new church building this morning. The light flooding the sanctuary, the voices lifted up in joy. Yes, there are still many things that need finishing and it was a little rough around the edges, but there was such a sense of your spirit there. Your presence felt throughout the service. It indeed felt like you had "moved in", and who wouldn't want to move in to such a bright and airy space? It was a blessing to take a small part in the gift of a dream realized. A dream that so many faithful people worked hard to bring to fruition. And when we scratch our heads sometimes, and wonder how it was all done, let us never forget "nothing is impossible with God". * o

In the Morning Shouts of Joy

Creativity, Chapter 7 and Wish Jars

The creative process has been in my thoughts a lot this week, partly due to the fact that I received my workshop materials for the How Much Joy facilitators training on Monday and am anxious to start digging in to them.

I finally managed to get through Chapter 7 of the Creative Call - the "Making Time" chapter. It's interesting when we look at all our responsibilities and commitments that make up our day, how often we feel guilty if we try and take an hour or so for ourselves, for our art. It's often a self-imposed guilt as well, at least for me. Today in my daybook I wrote that I truly need to learn to say no, without feeling guilty. And I'm realizing that I need to hunker down this weekend, and map out all my projects that are floating around in my head right now so that I can focus. I have so much creative energy these days, I'm getting "spacey" - at the point where ideas are rushing around, but I can't focus long enough on any one. Ahh, spring - it's always the same!

Some great writing quotes I came across this week:

Jennifer Louden - "In the end, being a writer is not about being published, making truckloads of money, or even expressing your ideas beautifully. In the end, writing is about showing up for yourself and with yourself, day after day, page after page."

Ya - just show up to the page baby, that's what it's all about!

Emily Hanlon - "One of the great challenges that we face as writers is to understand in the core of our beings that the journey of being a writer is the biggest payoff of all."

and lastly, (grin)

Me - I write because I breathe - and I can't figure out how not to do either one.

And, if you just want to be inspired, or get those creative juices flowing, check out keri smith's blog - The Wish Jar Journal. It's awesome! * o

Creativity, Chapter 7 and Wish Jars

Saying Goodbye

Farewell, Old Friend

Farewell, old friend
whose steadfast walls
sheltered and nurtured our faith.

You withstood the storms of nature,
and gave us refuge
from the storms of life.

Many Sunday mornings
we watched sunlight dance
through coloured windows,
creating halos of light on the altar.

We tested our faith
on polished wooden pews,
and tasted God’s love
in bread and wine
served at your altar.

In waters from your font
we baptised our children,
teaching them about Jesus
in your basement rooms.

We married here
filling your pews with our celebration,
and buried here
filling those pews with our grief.

We wove our lives
into endless Sundays
worshipping within you.

Farewell, old friend
whose steadfast walls
sheltered and nurtured our faith.

Our journey leads to new beginnings,
but bids us not forget from whence we came.

@2006 Eveline Maedel

This morning the congregation of St. Mary's said goodbye to their old church, after 118 years of faithful worship inside it's walls. Next Sunday we begin a new journey, in a new building.
* o

Saying Goodbye

How Many Books do You Bring to a Retreat?

Contents of my book bag that I brought to the retreat today:

1. Bible
2. Notebook (in case I wanted to make notes)
3. Journal (in case I wanted to write something profound!)
4. Creative Call book - (because we might get some free time, and maybe I could finish Chapter 7 - which incidentally is not called "How to Multi-Task while on Retreat"!)
5. Pen

Total # of items: 5
Total # of items actually used: 2
Lesson learned: Part of the retreat is learning to simplify, let go and just be!
Favorite moment: The ten minutes or so of quiet when I was alone in the sanctuary, journaling, breathing, and listening to the wind rattle the old windows. * o

How Many Books do You Bring to a Retreat?

Browsing the Book Store

Yesterday we went to the city so the boys could spend some of the money that burns holes in their wallets. Charlie and I got to spend some time browsing around Chapters, just the two of us. It's not hard for me to find a book or two to pick up, but Charlie was having a heck of time trying to find something. He's been trying to get more of The Watcher's series of books but they are really hard to come by, so he had to find something else. When we completed our purchases, we headed to Starbucks for a treat - chai tea for me, and a cappuccino for Charlie. It was an "artist date" moment in what would otherwise be a ho-hum day of shopping and crowds. * o

Browsing the Book Store

Ode to Joy

There are pieces of music that are intricately woven into the tapestry of our lives.

Twenty some years ago when I was getting married, I had to pick a song to walk down the aisle too. I didn't want the traditional "Wedding March", mostly I think because as kids we constantly chanted "here comes the bride, short, fat and wide" and I couldn't get that imagery out of my mind when hearing that piece of music.

So, I chose "Ode to Joy" to come down the aisle too. I loved singing it as a hymn in church, loved the words and felt it was the proper piece.

Flash forward twenty some years to yesterday morning. My youngest is playing "Ode to Joy" on the organ in church, his first performance in front of an audience larger than his family. I know he's nervous, and catch my breath as he plays. His face is set, determined. He plays flawless. My heart bursts with pride. I am sure my mother was also pleased, as she watched her piano student/grandson perform.

"Joyful, Joyful, We adore Thee". There are pieces of music that are intricately woven into the tapestry of our lives, like a prayer. * o

Ode to Joy

Weekend Creative Project

I found this neat stuff called, "Paper Perfect" in the store this weekend. It goes on like paint, dries like paper. Thought it would make a neat sort of collage cover for my journal which is just an ordinary notebook. I put this stuff on, and cut out some pictures and words. Then put a clear gloss finish over it all. It's taking over 24 hours to dry though. Note to self - next time decorate the journal cover BEFORE you start writing in the journal. * o

Weekend Creative Project

Eggs-cellent

I luvs Easter Eggs! Some of these are my own creation, and some are pysanky and others I have collected. I love Faberge Eggs too - but those are a little out of my budget.

Update on Spring Fever: I went out shopping today and bought some craft supplies - have a little project in mind. The sunshine was soon replaced by dark clouds. We've had thunder, lightening, hail, rain, snow and wind. The whole gamut. The dog is pacing restlessly. It's a good night to have a hot bath and hunker down with a good book. Maybe I'll finish The Eyre Affair. But first, another egg picture:

* o

Eggs-cellent

Spring Fever

The sun was shining earlier this morning, birds singing and the temps are very mild. Plastic Santa is definitely coming off the front deck today.

The only thing I've learned about creativity this week, is that I'm extremely restless and itching to create something, anything. This restless cycle can probably be attributed to the changing seasons. Spring fever. An underlying current longing to burst forth with something new.

The boys are rearranging their rooms, again. Not normally a big deal except that the oldest's ideas usually involve some sort of re-wiring or re-modeling that can't be done and leads to frustration. The joys of a very old house.

Spring fever has set in. March Break is here. God help us all. * o

Spring Fever

Frozen

I'm supposed to be working on some poems right now but I keep thinking about Lorna Crozier. This is who will be judging the poetry entries in the NOWW contest. Not being very up on who is who in the Canadian literary scene (but working on it), I "Googled" her name to see who she was. And now, I'm stone cold frozen. Just the minutest chance of having Crozier read one of my poems if I make that far would be like having Stephen King read your horror novel, or Stephen Spielberg read your screenplay. None of my poems are remotely near this kind of quality. Revising, re-reading, sifting through, thinking "naw, that's not it", or "god, that sounds mundane". Surfing the net and avoiding the work. Why am I putting myself through this?

I tell myself to keep revising, keep plugging away, and try to mould something I can enter knowing I pulled out the best I could offer. This is what entering the contest is about, right? Winning is nice (who am I kidding!) - but what I really need now is a kick in the pants goal, and to keep pushing myself. Otherwise, I remain frozen and staring at a blank page. And if there is even the slightest possibility that Lorna Crozier reads one of my poems - I'll be doing flipping cartwheels! * o

Frozen

Pieces of Lent

Fragments of my journey through Lent this week.

- lines from a poem I started on Ash Wed. and have yet to figure out what I'm going to do with: "the moon was a fingernail of light, ashes on my brow, sackcloth on my soul."

- still stuck on Week 7 of Creative Call, and am probably going to stay there this week too. This week was busy, and I didn't spend much time reading. Week 7 is about "Time Management" - ain't that a laugh....

- listening to Chaya's song "I Want You More Than Anything" and turning that into my Lenten litany.

- the fresh-washed smell of crisp, white altar linens wafting through the house this afternoon.

- Psalm 51 - "create in me a clean heart O Lord"

- fervent prayers for a dear sister in Christ who was rushed to hospital far away from here

-sitting in the stillness of the old church this morning and soaking up the peace.

- sitting in the hustle of the new church this morning, smelling fresh paint and sawdust and marveling at the "lightness" of the place.

- "remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return". I keep remembering how in grade school we used to sign autograph books with "ashes to ashes, dust to dust, if it weren't for girls, boys lips would rust."

- reflecting on service, and women who serve with whole hearts, like the woman with alabaster jar.

- journaling my way through a forty day prayer journal as my Lent practice. I didn't want to give anything up this time, partly because I couldn't figure out what to give up, and I wanted to do something meaningful, not just "because that's what we do at Lent." So I thought the prayer journal would be a good practice. * o

Pieces of Lent

Grosbeak

-27C this morning. Bitter cold but sunny. While rushing around getting ready to leave for work, I spotted this magnificent fellow at the bird feeder munching on sunflower seeds. I had to stop for a moment and admire him, so puffed up, his striking red feathers showcased against the clear, cold sky. Could I manage to sneak a picture, move the lace curtains without startling him? This is my attempt at catching that moment. A moment of "breathing in" - caught between morning silence and mindless busyness. * o

Grosbeak

Some good news on the writing front

I received word this weekend that my poem, Spring Frost, will be published in the True Words section of the Story Circle Journal March issue.

The journal is published by the Story Circle Network, a website for "women with stories to tell". Lots of helpful resources available there for women writers. * o

Some good news on the writing front

Hangin' Out - Sunday Morning

Charlie and Salem. Don't be fooled by kitty's rather relaxed appearance - it's an ideal spot to rule the couch and keep the slobbering dog on his toes. * o

Hangin' Out - Sunday Morning

Creative Call - Week 6 - Breathing Out

Creative is a journey, and I believe a partnership with our creator.

This week's chapter focused on becoming servants to the work. Learning to recognize our artist work as being both worth our time and our efforts. Learning to "show up to the work" and roll up our sleeves and do it.

And learning that as we start attending to the work, a thousand interruptions will show up to block our way. The kids need something, there is a meeting to go to, housework to be done, the list seems endless.

Earlier this week, I wrote that maybe the secret to happiness was discovering God's hand in the myriad interruptions of our lives. Now I think that the real secret is knowing which interruptions are God's and which ones are trying to keep us from our nurturing, creative relationship with God.

I'm frustrated this week because it seems that the more I try to "give up" so that I have time to create, the more seems to come my way in requests for my time and talents. I don't really want more to do, but in saying no, would I be missing a direction God wants to use me in? How do people sift through this stuff?

So as I muddle through this, Janice Elsheimer on page 101 of Creative Call reminds me: "God is in control, and every time you hear the critic telling you that you are wasting your time or being self-centered, you need to turn that message over to the Lord in prayer and rebuke the critic in the name of Jesus. You are fighting for your creative life here, and God is on your side."

A bit dramatic perhaps, but I know how angry and resentful I get when I don't nurture that creative side and God certainly doesn't need an angry and resentful servant. * o

Creative Call - Week 6 - Breathing Out

Life Interruped

Came across this quote today:

My whole life I have been complaining that my work was constantly interrupted, until I discovered the interruptions were my work. - Henri Nouwen

Could this be the secret to being satisfied with where you are at the moment? Recognizing God's hand in the myriad interruptions that make up our lives. Going with the flow. Paying attention and creating - in the moment. Simple serendipity. * o

Life Interruped

Creative Call - Week 5 - Just Breathe

"What you focus on expands" - pg 85, Creative Call

I found it ironic that this week's chapter focused on taking time to nurture your creative spirit. It's been a hell of a hectic week -busy, stressful and not a lot of time for "nurture". The more I read about it, the less of it I did!

A couple of discoveries while working through the exercises this week:

- I don't spend enough time with things that inspire me.
- What inspires me - nature, poetry, good music, good worship, artwork - is special because it opens up the heart somehow. I "feel" it - it's more emotion than intellect or knowledge. Example: singing at the top of my lungs to especially good lyrics opens a channel for the creative energy to flow. It makes me step outside myself and allow something deeper to move in and through me.

In my case, that "something deeper" is the Holy Spirit. On page 76 of the Creative Call, this sentence caught and held me for awhile: "When we welcome the Holy Spirit into our lives, we are changed, and our art manifests that change."

I've played with writing on and off for years, and journaled about writing for years, but its only been in the last few years that this writing thing has actually blossomed and begun to take off. This has been alongside a spiritual growth and renewal in my life. Christianity has become very real and meaningful to me, and through welcoming the Holy Spirit into my life, I've seen changes in my artistic expression manifest themselves. Things are different now because of this partnership, this awareness of co-creation.

Prayer to the Holy Spirit

Come Holy Spirit and fill my heart, my soul and my mind. Fill me with your love and enlightenment. Fill me with courage to pick up my pen and allow the words to flow. I give myself as your servant, a channel through which your love and wisdom can flow. May my words always be to your glory. Amen.
* o

Creative Call - Week 5 - Just Breathe

Creative Call - Week 4 - Forgiveness

encourage: to inspire with courage or confidence, to stimulate as by approval, to promote, foster.

This week's journey through Creative Call has focused on forgiveness. Forgiving those who discouraged our dreams, forgiving ourselves for not being able to achieve what we once dreamt we would. Part of the exercise was to list those who discouraged our dreams. I really couldn't come up with a very long list. Sure, I had a couple of teachers along the way who were negative and reveled in humiliation and criticism, and yes, I occasionally got teased and laughed at by classmates, but I don't recall being specifically told I could not do something. I am recognizing that my biggest "discourager" was me. Me and Fear. Fear of trying, fear of failing, fear of being laughed at. Just plain fear.

Here's what I wrote in my daybook:

"As a child I dreamed I could write, act, and sing. I could express myself without fear. As I grew I became self-conscious, afraid to express myself, afraid of criticism and not being liked. I hid myself in safe outlets - a safe job that I could do well - because I was afraid to try, afraid to fail. Now I realize, creativity does not mean I must become the next best-selling author, but, rather I must dance with God in freedom and joy and release that joy in the ink on the page. Not for the world to judge but a love letter, a soul's journey, a prayer."

I am also looking at what areas in my life am I being an encourager to someone else. Do my words lift up or tear down? Have I discouraged someone in their dream? It's been a tough week, as I've watched myself stick my foot in my mouth several times and have regretted speaking words that were not encouraging at all.

A Prayer of Contrition

Father, I am sorry that I have let dreams die, not trusting that you would provide all that I needed - the spark, the words, the means to express myself. I'm sorry I thought I had to do it all on my own and forgot that it was a partnership between you and I. I resolve to seek your vision for my life and do my part to achieve that vision. I resolve also to encourage others around me, to use the words you give me to lift others up and to be on guard in areas where I might be tempted to tear them down. Amen. * o

Creative Call - Week 4 - Forgiveness

Like Wine for Chocolate

I occasionally like a glass of wine with a meal, but am by no means a connoisseur of fine wines, so every trip to the LCBO to purchase wine is an adventure.

I could spend literally hours just reading the wine labels. Not just because I can't remember if it's "white meat - white wine" or what goes with moose burger, but they are so poetic and, well, exotic. I can't decide between the one that promises "earthy tones with soft ripe sweetness" or the one that says it's "soft and velvety with cocoa-dusted berry flavours" made "exclusively for me". Are these wine labels or ads for E-harmony?

And, if seducing me isn't enough, they also make me hungry. There's the wine that I should "savour alongside wine-braised chicken with tomatoes and green olives" or the slightly less adventurous one that is perfect with "grilled meats, spicy salami pizza or lasagna". I am however, staying away from the one that claims to be a combination of "red cherry, anise, leather and tobacco" (leather and tobacco???) Forget the romantic name, they might just as well have labeled it "Grandma's Purse".

After being wooed by several suitors (err..wine labels), I chose an Australian Shiraz. I was won over by the image of "sweeping alluvial plains, rich sun-drenched vineyards and leaping kangaroos" as well as its promise of "berry and vanilla oak aromas." Anything to escape the mid-February blahs!

Oh, and the back page of the winter "Food and Drink" magazine claims that chocolate is the "new wine - intense, fragrant and complex." Mmmm, can you say decadent? Pretty soon the wine label writers will be writing up the instant hot chocolate labels and I'll be spending hours in the grocery store aisle trying to decide between "dark and devilish, with just a hint of mint" or "light and creamy with a fragrant bouquet of cocoa bean and vanilla". * o

Like Wine for Chocolate

13 going on 30

My baby is 13 today. I now officially live in house of two teenage boys. I'm an estrogen speck swimming in a sea of testosterone, desperately trying to stay afloat!

As I was bestowing birthday blessings on my fine young son this morning, his baby blue eyes peeked out from amid a mass of curly-gone-wild blonde bangs and he informed me that since he was now thirteen, we could no longer tease him about "PG-13" movies. Holding his face between my hands, I said "you're my PG-13". A frown creased his brow, and he quickly retorted he wasn't "PG". "You might be thirteen", I kissed the top of his head, "but you still need parental guidance". * o

13 going on 30

A Prayer for My Artist Self

Lord,
Help me to understand my creative self as a gift from you. Help me to find the time and discipline to practice my writing, to draw from your inspiration and not to lean on my own. Give me the courage to put my writing out there, for your Glory. Give me strength to face rejection and perserverance to keep on going. Creativity is joy, help me work in that joy. Amen. * o

A Prayer for My Artist Self

Creative Call - Week 3 - The Cat

"In the morning O Lord you hear my voice, in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation." Psalm 5:3

I am three weeks into a creative writing study from the book, The Creative Call by Janice Elsheimer. The book is similar to Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way, but the spiritual focus of the exercises is Christian. Like The Artist's Way, the book calls for morning writing. Twenty minutes of writing in your "artist's daybook", first thing in the morning. I tried The Artist's Way years ago, but could never get past the morning pages. Of course, almost every book on writing promotes morning writing, and almost every book on prayer and bible study promotes spending time first thing upon rising in prayer.

I'm not a morning person, but I was determined to take a good stab at this so I took a hard look at my morning routine and how I could rearrange it. See, it's not so much the getting up in the morning to write that I balk at, it's trying to fit that in when I also have to go to work. With a little adjusting to my routine, I've found I only have to get up about 10 mins earlier than I was and I can fit the 20 minutes of writing in. I'm enjoying the quiet time, with morning cup of tea, pouring myself onto paper. It's not quality writing - it alternates from journaling, to prayer, to recording dreams of the previous evening, to dumping out anxieties - but quality writing is not the point of morning pages. Spending time with God, expressed through writing is. The twenty minutes fly by all too quickly.

The first week of writing, much to my chagrin, the entire household seemed to decide to get up earlier as well and I found myself with more company while trying to write. I'm protective of my alone time, so I was a bit resentful of these interruptions and a bit exasperated (how am I going to write if I can't get time to myself?) but thankfully they seemed to have settled back to their usual routine and I once again have quiet.

I am though, only in to week three. And the Lord knows me all too well. It is all too tempting, especially as I near the end of the week, to stay in bed an extra few minutes. Exhaustion always creeps up to me by Friday, so what starts out well on Monday usually falls apart by weeks end. To combat this, the Lord seems to have found a willing ally and partner in none other than my cat. At precisely six each morning, the cat begins to meow and scratch the rug, and meow some more, and jump on the bed and stare into my face, and disturb the dog so that he starts whining until I have no choice but to get up, feed him and let the dog out. Now I know the cat is but a creature of habit and routine, and just expects to be fed at the same time each morning and since I started this three weeks ago, he expects me to keep it up. However, I can't help but imagine God, knowing I'm tempted to keep sleeping, whispering into the cat's ear, "It's time. Wake her up. Do whatever you need to, but keep it up until she gets out of bed." I imagine He's smiling each morning, as I groan and stumble out of bed and downstairs to meet him between the pages of my artist's daybook.

In the morning O Lord you hear my voice. Sometimes that voice is grumpy, sometimes exhausted, sometimes excited to share my dreams with you but always the voice is confident that you are listening. * o

Creative Call - Week 3 - The Cat

Embracing Serafina

It's snowing out again, and the wind is howling. But I am warm and cozy and lately have been travelling through Europe.

How so? I've been immersed in a 603 page tome, "Embracing Serafina" by Penny Petrone. It's part memoir, part journey of self-discovery. And a great travelogue of Petrone's adventures.

I, who can find a dozen reasons to not even venture to the city in winter, am in awe of this woman's sense of courage and adventure. She often travelled alone, not something done by most women in the late 1950's.

Last summer I was signed up to take a memoir writing workshop taught by Dr. Penny Petrone. It was evident from the promo material that she was a well known author and teacher in the area. I was, as is common for me, oblivous to this fact and signed up for the workshop because it looked promising.

A few days before the workshop, Penny passed away. Her funeral was the day of the workshop. The class was taught by another excellent writer, and friend of Penny's, but it was evident from the memories and stories shared about her that day that she had indeed been an awesome woman. I found myself wistfully wishing I'd had the chance to meet her.

"Embracing Serafina" was given as a gift to those of us attending the workshop in honor of Penny's memory. This gift has been my opportunity to discover the woman who wrote it. To travel, to journey, to dream, to vicariously share her adventure. Her vivacious eyes sparkle from the photos within the pages. She must have indeed been a fascinating woman.

Fate may have cheated me the opportunity to meet her, but I am ever so grateful for writers who leave pieces of their soul forever bound in black ink between the pages of a book.

Now, if you'll excuse me, Penny and I are off to Egypt. * o

Embracing Serafina

Writing Contest

My friend Georgia Richardson (aka Queen JawJaw) has a new writing contest going on over at her website, here's the details:

St. Valentine’s Day Writing Contest

Give us your tired, your poor, your best St. Valentine’s Day Funny, Weird, Spooky, or Crazy story (No tear-jerkers, please!)

Visit my homepage at www.queenjawjaw.com for the rules, guidelines, AND a list of prizes.

Remember, you MUST BE SIGNED UP on my homepage (sign up at the ALL THINGS ROYAL button on the front page or the CONTACTS page) to be eligible to enter.

Good Luck, and may the best brib---ahh...I mean story win!

Somehow, I don't think she's looking for sweet and syrupy, do you?? * o

Writing Contest

Discovering Rachmaninov

A few years ago someone commented to me that Rachmaninov was their favorite composer. I buried that comment in my subconscious until recently when I came across a CD of his Piano Concerto No. 2 and 3 and decided to buy it.

I thought I'd never heard his music before, but it was about halfway through Piano Concerto No. 2 that it became hauntingly familiar. I started humming to the music and then I recognized it and out came the words "when I was young, I never needed anyone, and makin' love was just for fun, those days are gone"....yup, it was "All by Myself" by Eric Carmen. As a teenager, I wore that eight-track out (I know, dating myself here - eight-track???). I loved that song. The words were sappy but the melody stuck. There was a piano solo in there that was my favorite part. Little did I know, I was loving Rachmaninov back then.

Of course, the original concerto is so much better and richer. I can't play piano, but if I could I would want to play this. I could get lost in it's sweet melancholy erupting into passionate chords for hours.

Now, if I could just Eric Carmen's voice out of my head! * o

Discovering Rachmaninov

Cats Do it Better

I love cats, I confess (sorry, Trixie). Which is why I'm thrilled that this month's free book giveaway at Pink Jasper, is a copy of "Cats Do it Better Than People", an anthology compiled by Theresa Mancuso. Cat's do what better, you ask? You'll have to check out the book for the answer to that!

Entering the draw is easy - send an email to pinkjasper@mac.com, and put "Contest Entry" in the subject line. Presto - you're entered! Along with a copy of the book, you can win some delightful souvenirs from Yorkshire, England courtesy of my friend and fellow writer, Jackie Brooks.

Mention my tabby cat, Salem, in your email and you'll get two entries in the draw - doubling your chances to win!

Meow and good luck!

(Shameless plug - while you are checking out the contest details at the Pink Jasper website, why not check out our book "Pink Jasper - Gems from the Journey"? Stories of faith, hope, love, grief and healing - there's something in this book everyone can relate to) * o

Cats Do it Better

Year in Review - Journal Entries - Part 2

..more gleanings from the journal...sort of like mini-blogs I never got around to posting..

August 4/05
Cool and rainy this morning. Scripture verse from this morning's reading: "my grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness". Problems don't go away but God gives us the grace to deal with any situation. I feel I need this verse to help me sort out the direction I want to go in my spiritual journey and to give me strength to stay the course.

August 15/05
Had a weird dream last night about an empty house that no one wanted to go in because there was a cougar in it. I walked in and picked up the cougar and was holding it in my arms. I knew it wasn't wild and had actually been raised in captivity.

August 27/05
I'm sitting in Gargoyle's restaurant at the moment having just completed the first workshop of the writers conference - the journaling workshop. It was great. Surprisingly, I enjoyed the writing exercises and the experience of reading some of my writing aloud. It was easier to do then I thought and very freeing.

September 4/05
I often find myself fighting jealousy when I see someone else published or saying they write. I think sometimes that comes from a lack of self-confidence. I feel my writing is inferior or I'm never going to write anything good. I'm finding I work best through my envy by becoming more supportive of a fellow writer - buy their book, encourage and promote, share info. I'm realizing we all have our own stories, talents and gifts and we need to encourage each other, especially in a small town.

October 10/05
A beautiful Monday morning - sunny, clear blue skies, cool, but the perfect fall day. I'm just having my second cup of tea before starting my routine and tidying things up before the boys get home.

October 23/05
In the videotaped sermon at church today, the Episcopal Bishop whose name I can't remember said that we come to church to give ourselves as an offering at the altar and this pleases God. We don't come to church for what we get out of it but to have relationship with God and offer ourselves to Him. And God, who has everything He needs, is pleased by this.

November 13/05
It's dark, wet, windy and rainy this morning. John and the boys are in Stratton this weekend and supposed to be coming home today. There is a winter storm warning out, and the rain here is supposed to turn to snow, so I am filled with worry today as I pray they will arrive safely home. I barely slept last night, listening to the wind and rain. Charlie has called me each night.

November 24/05
An extremely windy, blustery crappy day today. TJ's bus was stuck behind transports that were lined up on the highway because of the closure. Charlie's had a cold all week and we've been getting up every night to steam. I'm so exhausted.

November 27/05
Friday afternoon I left work early and went to the church and did my Altar Guild. I like when I'm alone in the church and I always hope when I'm there that no one will come in so I can just have the time alone. I usually go there a little harassed and resentful, but I always leave feeling peaceful. It's like I work out all my anxieties in the polishing of the brass.

December 02/05
What a week. I've had a wicked cold. Tuesday afternoon I was sneezing so much I didn't know if I would make it through the "Author" night. Fortunately the sneezing held off during that time. I was so nervous and just feeling so inferior but I think it went well. In the van on the way there I told Charlie how nervous I was and hoped that not too many would be there, and he said "I'm there Mom" and he leaned over, patted my arm and said "and you know, Jesus will be there".

Dec 21/05
In light of everything, 2006 does not look promising and yet I feel God is asking me, "do you trust me?" Woke up the other night with this phrase going over and over in my head - "Mary said Yes, would you?" Truth is, I doubt I would have, I doubt my faith is that strong and I know that God is convicting me of that. Thankfully he is also a God of grace who will allow me to grow in that faith, to develop that strength should I choose that path. * o

Year in Review - Journal Entries - Part 2

Year in Review - Journal Entries - Part 1

Here are some gleanings of the year from my journals.

Jan 2/05
TJ, after I quipped to him "Man does not live by bread alone but by every word of God", replied "God's Word is like Chinese food, you need more of it in an hour".

Jan 23/05
My baby, first born is 16 today - wow!

Feb 15/05
Prayer vigil tonight. My scripture verse was: "God is spirit, and his worshippers must worship in spirit and in truth." John 4:24. While praying this image popped into my head - a raging torrent of water, a river flowing right through the middle of the church starting from the altar and going right out the door.

Feb 27/05
As I sit and write and reflect tonight I have Puccini's operas on the CD. Across the hall from me TJ is practicing guitar trying to master a ZZ Top piece and down the hall, Charlie has Hillary Duff blasting on his CD.

June 3/05
In my devotion this morning I read "the purpose of brokenness is to bring us to the point where we can say to God "Not only do I need You, but You are all I need", generally it is some area of pride in life that needs to be broken. I have felt spiritually broken lately but have I leaned on God enough? trusted Him?

July 13/05
Need I even mention it's hot again today? You can smell the heat in the air. 20th anniversary today. At supper there was a beautiful bouquet of carnations from John as well as a lovely silver Italian charm bracelet with our birthstones as charms, and my name engraved on it was well as "July 13 - 1985-2005". I have the sweetest hubby.

July 16/05
Reading "Queen Power" last night, struck by the comments on being an "authentic" Queen. An authentic Queen is truthful - no lies, no gossip, no judging, no "excuses". She also knows her talents and is a good steward of them. I am struck by how often I am not authentic, especially in relationships.

More "Year in Review" tomorrow! * o

Year in Review - Journal Entries - Part 1

Year in Review - Books

I keep a list of the books I read throughout the year. Not sure why, other than as I get older I have trouble remembering what I did yesterday let alone all year! The book list is fun to review and ponder - I thought it might be interesting to post it here, especially if you are the type of person that is curious about what other people read. So, here's what caught my interest in 2005:

The DaVinci Code - Fact or Fiction? Hank Hanegraaff and Paul Maier
This Present Darkness - Frank Peretti
The Shy Writer - C. Hope Clark
Travels with My Lovers - Erica Miner
The Haunted Bookshop - Christoper Morley
The Habit of Hope in a Changing and Uncertain World - Bishop William Hockin
Myself When Young - Daphne DuMaurier
The China Conspiracy - p.m.terrell
It's Time to End Church Splits - Francis Frangipane
Hana's Suitcase - Karen Levine
Whence Came a Prince - Liz Curtis Higgs
Unveiling Mary Magdalene - Liz Curtis Higgs
Ear of the Wolf - James Demers
A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Throne - Georgia Richardson
Grab the Queen Power - Allyn Evans
Our Father Who Art in a Tree - Judy Pascoe
The Trouble with Tulip - Mindy Starns Clark
Eagle Born to Fly - Sharon Matthies
Circus at the Edge of the Earth - Charlie Wilkins
This is the Place - Carolyn Howard Johnson
Defying Gravity - A Celebration of Late-Blooming Women - Prill Boyle
In Search of...The Real Spirit of Christmas - Dan Schaeffer

hmmm...I think there are just as many books on this list, as there are sitting in my "book basket" waiting to be read! * o

Year in Review - Books

Hogmanay 2005

A salute to my Scottish roots!

From "Hogmanay.net":

What is the symbolism of fire at Hogmanay?
The flame and fire at Hogmanay symbolises many things. The bringing of the light of knowledge from one year to the next, lighting the way into the next uncharted century, putting behind you the darkness past, but carrying forward its sacred flame of hope and enlightenment to a better parish, and in this day, world.

Our New Year's Eve bonfire, pictured above. It was a beautiful evening - warm and snowy. Children and adults alike slid down the hill behind our house, or warmed up around the bonfire. The New Year was rung in with the melodic tones of a cell phone, and afterwards celebrated with a few fireworks. We said goodbye to the "old" with the burning of our Christmas tree (in hindsight, not the best idea unless you like greeting the new year with a smudge). In the flames, in our wishes, we carried forward the hope that 2006 will be a good year.

* o

Hogmanay 2005

Prayers for 2006

A good friend gave me the prayer box shown here for Christmas. You are supposed to fill the little box with your prayers. The top is inscribed "Faith is the substance of things hoped for..." (Heb. 11:1). I have a feeling the prayer box will not take long to fill.

Some years go by without much of a blip on the screen. Things run smoothly and nothing much changes. Other years, the changes come fast and furious leaving you feeling like you've ridden a monster roller-coaster. If early premonitions turn out to be correct, this is going to be one of those years. At least, I believe we are in for a lot of ups and downs.

I don't "do" new year resolutions. Mostly because I know I won't stick to them. Instead this year I'm starting a tradition of new year prayers. I want to list the things that I'm praying for this year, so here they are:

Lord I pray for courage to handle all the changes that will come my way this year. I pray for my trust in you to deepen, and conviction that you are working all things out for the good of those who place their faith in you.

I pray for compassion and wisdom for friends who are hurting. Help me to be a loving, listening friend. Guard my tongue from judgement and gossip. Help me to forgive those I need to forgive and grant me kindness.

I pray for health and the commitment to look after myself - to eat better and take better care of my body. I pray for the healing of loved ones, and for spiritual healing.

I pray for my children - that they will stay healthy, that they will have a good year in school, that they will continue to grow to be compassionate and caring individuals.

I pray for my marriage - that it will continue to be blessed and we will remain strong in our partnership, caring for each other and our children.

I pray for my writing - that I will use my gifts for you, that I will nurture the creative spirit.

I pray for quiet times spent with you. I long to deepen our relationship - help me to fuel the desire to put you first.

And lastly, I pray that I will return to these prayers throughout the year as I weather all that life throws my way. I pray I won't forget what I've asked for this year, and that I will recognize you in the daily workings of my life.

Amen. * o

Prayers for 2006

A Letter to Martha

Dear Martha:

I'm tired and seem to have lost my holiday spirit. I've got most of the presents bought and wrapping done, and the decorations are up, but I just can't seem to get excited about the season. I don't feel festive. Everything feels like a chore and I'm in a panic that all my "to-do" items won't get done. Even church seems way too busy and more than I can handle right now. I used to love to decorate, and wrap and prepare for the big day but now I feel it's going to come and go and pass me by without much fanfare. What can I do?

Ebenezer

Dear Eb:

Let me guess. You're approaching mid-life right? Caught up in the frenzy of getting things done, but not taking any time for yourself? Feel guilty when you do? I've been there. I was the caretaker of everyone. I remember that time Jesus paid us a visit. I was in such a tither, and so annoyed at him, really. I mean he waltzes in with all these guys, and suddenly there's all these extra mouths to feed and rooms to clean because I wasn't expecting company! I remember standing in the doorway, watching my sister just sitting there at his feet doing nothing and starting to really "burn". I tapped my feet, and called Jesus over, and well, I confess, I whined. He took my hands in his, looked into my eyes, and gently said "Martha, Martha, Martha, you're missing the point. Take a load off." Well, Ok, maybe those weren't his exact words but you get the idea. You know, some people would have been hurt, thinking he was reprimanding them, but I felt such peace then. I had just been given permission to relax. All those people there didn't care what my house looked like or what I served for supper. After all, this was the guy who could feed 5,000 with a few loaves and fishes! They were there to spend time with Him. It wasn't about me at all. And so, I went about the rest of the evening in a better mood, enjoying the company and our visit. My suggestion to you is do what you can. Don't worry if it doesn't all get done or isn't perfect, nobody really notices if you have the perfect holiday centerpiece anyway. Enjoy your family, take time to rest. Spend some time with Him, He loves the company! You'll feel better if you do. And, Eb, it's ok to say "no" sometimes, we'll talk more about that later.

Peace
Martha


The more we share with simplicity what we have, the more life becomes welcoming for those entrusted to us. Simplifying enables us to offer a welcome to others, even with very little.

From the book:
Peace of Heart in All Things
by Brother Roger of Taizé
published by GIA Publications * o

A Letter to Martha

O, Christmas Tree!

The tree went up this weekend. John put on the lights, the boys put on the ornaments and I made hot chocolate and put on the finishing touch - the bows. The house smells of pine and "it's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...." * o

O, Christmas Tree!

Merry, whatever????

This weekend I'm putting up my scotch pine holiday tree and trimming it with reminders of the holiday season. Then to put me in the holiday mood, I'm going to watch a couple of my favourite holiday movies. First, I'm going to watch that cartoon, where the Who's down in Whoville wake up one holiday morn, shocked and with a "What the?" on their lips when they discover that that green guy up the hill has stolen their "all-inclusive, secular, non-religous, commercialized, extremely offensive to grinches holiday". Then I'm going to watch "A Holiday Carol". I just love it when that Scrooge guy gets visited by the ghosts of holiday celebrations past, and learns how to keep the holiday spirit in his heart forever. (I think I just felt Dickens roll over in his grave). Maybe I'll even break out in song - "I'm Dreaming of a No Color in Particular Holiday" perhaps.

Yes, it's that time of year again. Christmas, you say? No, no, no. That time of year when the debate rages over just what we can call "that time of year" and the political correct police get all up in arms over what's correct and what's not.

Face it. This has less to do with potentially offending anyone, as it has to do with "market share". Ahh, Wally World, thy god is consumerism. Big box retailers, ever conscious of their next buck in an increasingly diverse culture, pick their brains with a way to make this time of year an all-inclusive shopping spree for everyone. You shall be all as one, and one as all, and you shall be happy. Politicians, ever conscious of the next vote, strive to make this an all-inclusive, non-offensive time of year so as not to tick you off and lose favor with the public. You shall be all as one, and one as all, and you shall be happy.

So, while the debate rages on around me, I'm trying to figure out just what it is about this time of year that is important to me. What do I celebrate? If the powers to be decide I can no longer have a day off this time of year to celebrate a holiday not everyone celebrates, will there still be a turkey dinner on the table at supper time? If Santa is no longer allowed to visit because he represents a stereotypical overweight white male that may potentially offend someone, will I still give gifts to the ones I love? If all the cards in the world were replaced with "Happy Holiday" cards, would I still send them to people I never hear from any other time of year? If energy conscious groups win the debate over lighting up your house with strings of lights, will I still search for the One who brings light to the darkness? If a tree falls in the forest, was it a Christmas tree??

(For a much better treatise on this subject then I can do justice to, click here)

Call it whatever you want. The true meaning of this celebration to me, is not found in a store clerk's holiday greetings or a decorated tree. Not in a gift box, not in a sock. I will not find it in a fox! I will not find it there. No, come Christmas Eve, Holiday Eve, Dec. 24th or whatever you'll find me in that little building down the road. The one with the cross on it. Sitting in candelit glow, trying to wrap my head around the wonder of a God who would come to earth as a tiny, helpless babe. Immanuel. As politically incorrect 2000 years ago as now.

Feel free to celebrate it however you want, or not. You won't offend me.

Dare I say " peace on earth, goodwill to ALL"? * o

Merry, whatever????

and now for something completely different....

Aww...you are the plant of love! You are the
mistletoe! You are a loving, romantic person
who likes to do what is best for the one or
ones you care about mostly. You are very
affectionate and enjoy being close to people.
You believe that love brings you together,
which is a wonderful thing. You are most likely
going to have a very nice and marvelous season.
Your inventive mind could come up with anything
interesting to do. Merry Christmas =)


What Christmas Figure Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla * o

and now for something completely different....

Contentment

True bliss is coming home from a mad dash to the city, fighting crowds in the mall, endless line-ups, aching back and generally exhausted, to find that your two fine sons have not only done all the chores on their list, including the laundry, but that your awesome teenage son has baked squares and prepared a delicious supper that is just waiting for you to come home to! Could it be Christmas in the air??

Sigh...I am so proud of my boys. * o

Contentment

Sleep Interrupted

Night four of "Charlie's Cold". Two hours after he fell asleep, he is awakened, his body racked by coughing spasms. I crawl out of bed, and wordlessly we head downstairs. We huddle on the couch, while the kettle boils. A few minutes later he is hunched over a bowl of boiling water, with towel wrapped around him. Coughing subsided, we head back up to bed. I crawl between the sheets, fingers and toes crossed and praying that we won't have to repeat this routine again tonight. In a few short hours it will be dawn.

We've become so good at this nightly routine, so mechanical, that we are like zombies. I'm not even sure we are awake. We occupy the same spot on the couch, night after night. We've got the motions down pat, and can be back into bed in about 20 minutes.

The whole thing is vaguely reminiscent of a similar, zombie like routine some twelve years ago. Only then, instead of boiling a kettle to steam, I was heating a bottle and changing a diaper.

Meanwhile, it is morning and snow is falling. Upstairs, one son plunks out "Silent Night" and "Jingle Bells" on his keyboard, interspersed with the melodic "Malengua" he has been practicing. The other son has his ear glued to CBC Radio, waiting for a "bus cancelled" announcement that doesn't come.

Time marches on. * o

Sleep Interrupted

Of Writing Classes, Journals, and Faith

I just completed a Journaling for Writers course at the Long Story Short School of Writing website. Erica Miner is a great instructor, encouraging but challenging, not letting me get away with mediocre, but pulling so much more out of me.

I ended up going through my old journals in order to complete some of the assignments. I poured through early entries, amused, amazed and sometimes bored with my younger, whinier self. I'd forgotten how tired I always was when the boys were younger. I'd forgotten some of the cute things they had done, or the fascinating things they would say.

The walk down memory lane did a couple of things for me besides help me to complete my assignments.

First, I often think this writing thing I do is something I recently got into. The journals remind me that writing is something I have done throughout my life. I have always poured myself out on paper, sometimes through poetry, sometimes in a journal. Sure, there were long, dry periods of no writing but I have yet to give it up forever. My journals remind me of my progress and my growth.

The second discovery involves my spiritual growth. My faith journey is sprinkled throughout my sporadic, journal entries. The periods of doubt, the search for a deeper faith, the quests down different paths, all the journeys that led back to one place, one God. One who was there all the time - in the beginning and the end.

The journey is far from over yet, and I'm sure more will be examined through the pages of my journal. Still it is comforting to realize that God is my constant companion in these pages. It is a friendship explored in ink, revealed in bound pages and sealed in the heart. * o

Of Writing Classes, Journals, and Faith

A Walk in November

It was such an unusually warm November day today, that I had to go for a walk. The only way I could tell it was November, and not April or May was that the sun hung lower in the sky and the water was a gray, slate color. Not as much blue in the sky to reflect on the surface.

I went down past the cemetary again - one of my favorite jaunts. My son once asked why I walked that way and I replied that it was peaceful there. To which he sardonically quipped "of course, everyone's dead". Smart cookie, that boy.

Maybe it's melancholy to roam graveyards with opera music playing in your headphones, but in addition to peace, this walk offers a flat road and an impressive view of Nipigon Bay.

As the sun warms my face, I'm all too aware that tomorrow it is supposed to get cold again and snow. Winter lurks around the corner, hemming me in. Already the daylight hours are far too short. For now, I bask in sunlight, watch the ducks glide across the lagoon, and breathe in deep as if I could inhale this moment and preserve it through the long, dark winter nights.

Today is a gift. Tomorrow it can snow.

"Keep your face to the sunshine and you cannot see the shadows" - Helen Keller * o

A Walk in November

God Beats

wood smoke rises
drum beats
ancient rhythms
power to soothe
the soul
or excite
into frenzy
he chants to ThunderBird
to appease the rain
shading my eyes
I glance skyward
and squint into clear
blue sky
wood smoke rises
heart beats
ancient rhythms
lost in time
and prayer

@2005 Eveline Maedel
Photo taken this summer at Old Fort William * o

God Beats

Hope Through Transitions

"Happy are those who are helped by the God of Jacob. Their hope is in the Lord their God." Psalm 146:5

Fall is awash in glorious color as the days get shorter, the nights cooler and the air definitely crisper. I always find fall to be a sort of melancholy season for me. Winter is not my favourite of the four seasons, and fall is an ever present reminder that winter is around the corner. Fall is the transition season. In this neck of the woods it often transitions all too quickly. One day, warm and bright and colourful and the next morning a cold, wet snowy bleakness perches on the doorstep. No matter how many years I’ve been around, winter always catches me by surprise.

I find this fall to be a particularly bittersweet transition time for our church and our community. We started the season with great joy over the much anticipated start of construction of our new church home. As we neared the end of September, we faced shock and upset at the announcement of shutdowns and layoffs at Norampac. Many of our friends and loved ones are trying to navigate through some major decisions and questions right now.

Life is an ever constant transition, from the time we are born until the time we die. One look at our physical bodies is enough to remind us of these changes as we age. Christians know that our souls are constantly changing too, as the Holy Spirit works on our hearts and makes us “new creations in Christ”. ("Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed day by day." 2 Corinthians 4:16) Every transition is both a small “birth” and a small “death” as something old makes way for something new.

While we cannot live completely static lives and escape these transitions all together, and God does not promise a perfectly smooth life, it is important to remember a couple of things God does promise or provide for us.

1) God promises us comfort. He has given us the Holy Spirit as our comforter. In John 14:16 we read "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Helper (or Comforter, or Counselor) to be with you forever." God knows what we are going through and He will comfort us. Psalm 34:18 says "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and he saves those whose spirits have been crushed."

2) God has a plan for us. Jeremiah 29:11, "For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Note that this verse says “I know the plans I have for you” (emphasis on I). Not “you know” nor does it promise to “I will tell you exactly what those plans are”. Simply “I know”. God knows, God is in control. We are asked to trust in God’s plan. It’s a scary kind of trust, a leap of faith, a belief that “Father really does know best”.

We have to remember as well that everyone responds to transitions differently. Some people embrace change, running headlong into it with arms wide open and leaps of joy. Others stick their feet firmly on the ground, cross their arms, and begin to chant “We shall not be moved”. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle of these two. Let us continue to pray for each other, uplift each other and comfort each other, reminding ourselves that seasons come and go and but God is our ever present hope, comfort and strength.

"I pray that Christ will live in your hearts by faith and that your life will be strong in love and be built on love. And I pray that you all God's holy people will have the power to understand the greatness of Christ's love - how wide and how long and how high and how deep that love is. Christ's love is greater than anyone can ever know, but I pray that you will be able to know that love. Then you can be filled with the fullness of God. With God's power working in us, God can do much, much more than anything we can ask or imagine. To him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus for all time, forever and ever. Amen" Ephesians 3:14-21 * o

Hope Through Transitions

Cured not Cursed

I'm typing this with one hand. On my right hand I'm wearing a big bulky mitt that makes my hand sweat, is uncomfortable, and makes it extremely hard to use my dominant hand. For twelve hours today, I have "leprosy". The mitt is supposed to help me experience what a person with leprosy goes through. It's part of a Canada-wide fundraiser for The Leprosy Mission, called "Cured Not Cursed".

But, the mitt only really gives me the physical experience of a leprosy victim. It doesn't really give me the emotional experience of what someone with leprosy suffers. I still have my family and my home. No one shunned me in church this morning. Instead they were curious about why we were wearing the mitts. My family didn't kick me out of my house, or force me to live in the streets and beg for food. No one was afraid to touch me today.

In a few short hours I will joyfully shed this cumbersome mitt and go about my normal, nice, happy life again. Someone who really has leprosy is not so fortunate.

Around 1500 people each day will be told they have leprosy. Leprosy can be cured and its devastation halted by taking three pills a day for six months. The cost of treatment is about $275 Cdn per person. Such a pitiful small sum to make such a huge difference in someone's life. There is no reason that any child today should have to suffer with leprosy.

Please visit The Leprosy Mission website (www.tlmcanada.org) and consider making a donation. Leprosy can be cured. * o

Cured not Cursed

October Storms

Thunderstorms in October are an unusual occurence around here. Just before supper, the dark black clouds rolled in. Booming thunder roared around. Thunder that seemed louder and closer than a summer storm. Even the clouds seemed to hang lower, barely clearing tree tops and roofs. The dog whimpered, as lightening flashed and popped and then the rain came. It poured and then it hailed. Tiny chunks of ice gathered on the patio table and flung themselves at the birdfeeder. The windowpane rattled with each rising crescendo of thunder. A fast moving storm, it was soon over. Dark clouds gave way to red sunset, promising "sailors delight" for the morn. * o

October Storms

Tigers

In early morning light
I dreamt of the cat
Nibbling at my face
And pacing around my body
Lithe body ready to pounce
I put my arms up
In defense
And curled into fetal position
My legs kicked out
And launched said cat
From peaceful slumber
As I awoke
So much for reading about tigers
Before going to sleep.


@2005 Eveline Maedel All rights reserved * o

Tigers

Crisp

Today is the first day I've had to warm up the car before running off to work. The temperatures dropped last night, and the rain turned icy. Walking out on the deck this morning was a bit of an adventure! Fall has arrived. * o

Crisp

Hot Soup Days

The past couple of days have been perfect hot soup days. It's been cool, and raining steady. Yesterday morning I put some frozen homemade chicken soup in the crock pot so that by lunch time we could come home to "hot soup". I also put my sheep's wool mattress cover back on the bed, after it had made a visit to the dry cleaners. It had fluffed up perfectly, like brand new. Last night, I slipped into bed, snuggled down into the cloud-like comfort of the sheep's wool, wrapped the blankets around me and listened to the rain pelting on the window. I'm grateful for a belly full of hot soup, and warm blankets.

May I be mindful of the blessings in my life, particularly on hot soup days.

@2005 Eveline Maedel All Rights Reserved * o

Hot Soup Days

A Child's Love

Love to a child
is the unwavering belief
that a mother's kiss
can heal all wounds

Small arms wrapped
around the neck
damp hair scented with
watermelon shampoo
whispers soft
"I love you, Mommy"


@2005 Eveline Maedel - all rights reserved * o

A Child's Love

So, What's for Supper?

It's been one of those days. It started with an email that put me in a mood that lingered far longer than it should have.

Later in the afternoon, my youngest son called from home. His first full day back at school and he injured his thumb in gym class. He said it was swollen. Twenty minutes later when his brother got home from high school, I had a confirmation that it was indeed swollen. "Mom", he said, "you better come home and look at this."

And so we made a visit to the emergency room where I sometimes think they should hand out Air Miles. The thumb in a splint, a requisition for an x-ray in the morning and a prediction that it'll be quite black and blue by then, we headed for home.

Fortunately, or so I thought, supper was all planned. Thanks to the MenuMailers at Saving Dinner I had sweet potatoes already cooking in the oven and chicken marinating in the fridge. All I needed to do was fire up the grill.

Nothing happened. Apparently grills need propane to run. And apparently there was none in this one. Yes, I know women can fill propane tanks nowadays, but I've never learned how to do that, or hook them up. Frankly, propane makes me nervous and I'm not even happy lighting the grill.

I threw the chicken in the oven, which already was on for the sweet potatoes. This story should have a happy ending but it doesn't end there. The chicken took way longer than it should have to cook, and when we finally sat down to eat I opened up the sweet potatoes and they were rotten on the inside. Thank God for canned corn.

I'm by now thinking I should have gone with my usual plan for supper when hubby is away - eat out!

At this point, a hot bath and curling up with the latest Mindy Starns Clark novel (The Trouble with Tulip) sounds good but I'm afraid there'll be no hot water and pages missing from the end of the book!

P.S. on the list of good things that happened today, Pink Jasper - Gems from the Journey is now available to order from Heliographica. Click here to order. * o

So, What's for Supper?

Train of Thought

If the the only railway crossing in town has crossing arms, is it necessary for the train engineer to lay on the horn as if all matter of life depended on it?

The horn's blast sliced through my bedroom and shattered my sleep. I braced myself for impact, certain that there must be something in the train's way as the urgent, long wail roared past my ears. Had the engineer become unconscious and collapsed on the control panel?

Nothing. The train rattled past and carried on. My heart began its descent from where it clung to the ceiling and drifted back into my chest. It's 1:00 AM. Might as well go to the bathroom. * o

Train of Thought

Thoughts from a Writers Conference

Last weekend I attended the Sleeping Giant Writers Festival. Besides meeting some really great people, I learned a lot and had a very creative day. I took in a workshop on journaling and one on memoir writing. I'm already looking forward to next year's festival. Here are some highlights from my notes:

Great Quote:

"If a piece of writing is going to be any good, it has to brush up against the mysteries or undefinables of who we are"
Charles Wilkins

I Remember (A Journaling Exercise)

I remember partridge hunting down bush roads with my Dad. It is late September or early October. Warm enough for a heavy sweater, yet the air is crisp and full of promise. I love the bush smell - wet, fallen leaves and pine. We walk the gravelly road together surrounded by a symphony of bird son and somewhere up ahead the rhythmic drumming of partridge wings. I don't remember how many partridge we got that day. I don't remember what we talked about or even how many times we went out hunting together. I don't remember the age when I became too old to want to go with him or when exactly I crossed that threshold from tom-boy to teenage girl and he started going hunting with only the dog as companion. Yet I can close my eyes and still feel the texture of plaid flannel hunting jackets. What I really want to say is I'm afraid of losing those memories before I even lose my father. * o

Thoughts from a Writers Conference

Update on the Common Book

Yesterday, I completed the last page of the little notebook I had started recording "common" stuff in back in June.

Why is this a big deal? It represents the most consistent amount of journaling I have done in my life. I wrote almost daily - sometimes every second day.

Some days the entries are pretty short, obviously jotted down in a hurry. Others are more detailed. Some are downright boring and some have little glimmers of insight.

I'm pleased that even on days when I accomplished no other writing tasks at all, there is something jotted down in my common book. So I can pat myself on the back and say "at least you wrote a bit today".

This morning I cracked the cover of a fresh new notebook - full of possibilities of common entries of my everyday life.

Obviously, the common book system works for me as a journaling tool. * o

Update on the Common Book

Pink Jasper - Gems from the Journey

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Heliographica Press announced today the pending release of a remarkable book written by six women writers. "Pink Jasper:Gems From The Journey" is a collection of poetry, essays, and short stories chronicaling their personal life journeys of Jacqueline Brooks, Carolyn Horton, Pamela June Kimmell, Eveline Maedel, Georgia Richardson, and Dana Smith-Mansell. The work projects a wide variety of emotion from intense grief to boundless joy as these women share their stories and feelings as they walk their separate paths. There is spiritual awareness, divine celebration and challenge, all celebrated in the pages of this extraordinary book. Each piece is superbly written and as the reader moves from one piece to the next it becomes clear that we all share common stories and experiences. This book's messages will remain with the reader long after the reading is done.

The book will be available shortly from Heliographica Press at http://www.heliographica.com, and other online stores including such as Amazon, and will be available to bookstores and libraries through Ingram and Baker & Taylor. ISBN 1933037059.
* * * * * * * * * *

So there it is - the official announcement! This book has been a "labor of love" project for myself and my "Pink Jasper Sisters" - Jackie, Carolyn, Pam, Georgia and Dana. We met online, we formed an immediate bond and for the past couple of years we have been working on "Pink Jasper". The book will be available for purchase on the Heliographica website soon and I can't wait to get my copies of it either and finally see it in actual book form. I still have to pinch myself periodically to believe it's true!!! * o

Pink Jasper - Gems from the Journey

The Visitors

I was interrupted from my Saturday afternoon chores by the sound of the dog barking outside. Looking out the window, I saw two young couples standing at the end of my driveway staring at our garage.

My first thought was that the moose rack my husband hung on the garage last evening must be a real traffic stopper. Turns out, the two women in the group had just wanted to stop by and show their partners the house their father had been born in.

Enchanted at the chance to find out more of the history of my house, I eagerly went outside to greet them and chat a bit. They talked about their father, and the summers and Christmases that they had spent visiting here. Their grandfather built the house and the garage, that he used to store boats for other people.

"There's a name in the cement of the corner of the garage", I said, "come, take a look".

"That's our father's name!" We all stared at the perfectly formed letters in awe. The date underneath is worn and fading, but as close as we could tell was 1960. The girls figured that was about the year their father left for university. For unknown reasons, he marked the occasion forever in cement.

After some reminiscing, they bid me farewell, thanking me profusely for letting them look around.

My house is about 80 years old, and has only housed two families in its time - theirs and mine. Except for some painting and minor repairs it has remained relatively unchanged. It may be old, and a little plain, but its solid walls have sheltered love, laughter, sorrow, youth and old age.

It is a family house. A home. * o

The Visitors

Dusty Bookshelves......and more Phantom

A recent trip into the city resulted in the acquisition of the soundtrack CD for The Phantom of The Opera and ignited my "phantom fever" and musings all over again. I took a quick peak at the ultimate Phantom "phans" website, www.phantomoftheopera.com. Besides discovering that there are people out there way more obsessed by the Phantom than I am, I also discovered there is an increasing interest in Susan Kay's novel, Phantom.

Seems Kay's novel is now out of print, and hard to find. According to the FAQ's on the Phantom website, "The novel Phantom, by Susan Kay, is very popular amongst fans, but is out of print. Demand for copies has grown so much since the movie of the musical came out that prices on Amazon and eBay have shot up to as much as $70 - $100 just for a paperback."

Makes me kind of glad I have a hardcover copy gathering dust on my bookshelf (and no, at this moment I'm not selling). I loved the novel and it earned a treasured spot on my bookshelf along with other books I just can't part with.

More than haunted by the Phantom, I now find myself haunted by Susan Kay, the writer. All I could find out about her from searching the internet was that she was born in 1952 and wrote two novels, Legacy in 1985 and Phantom in 1990. Legacy was the winner of Britain's Georgette Heyer Historical Novel Prize and the Betty Trask Prize for a first novel. A good start it would seem. I can't uncover if she wrote anything else after Phantom or what happened to her, or even if she is still alive.

This leaves me wondering why she quit after Phantom? Did the muse leave her? Where is she now (hiding out in some opera house?) What is she doing? Is she aware of all the "phantom fever" surrounding her out of print novel? Somebody please tell me whatever happened to Susan Kay?

Incidentally, the rights to her novel are owned by Amblin - Stephen Spielberg's company. There's rumors that a movie might be in the works. Maybe all the hype over an out of print novel is just good pre-movie publicity. * o

Dusty Bookshelves......and more Phantom

Haiku Moment

old school
boarded windows
freedom becomes its own God * o

Haiku Moment

Testing

I installed the new Tiger OS on my Mac today, and I'm just playing around with some of the Dashboard widgets available.

Right now, I'm testing a widget that will post directly to my blog - for quick and easy blog updates!

Let's hit the post button and see if this works :) * o

Testing

Finding Freedom in the Common

The other day I was browsing through a back issue of "Personal Journaling" magazine and came across an article about using a "commonplace book", or a book to record "unremarkable activities". The article discussed using a common book to keep a listing of the events of the day.

At last, I thought, something I can relate to! See, journaling for me has always been a sporadic process. Intimidated by the thought that any journaling has to be profound, I avoid writing in mine for weeks on end because I just don't have anything profound to say. I further complicate this process by reading journals of great writers and finding my entries pitiful in comparison. And so the page remains blank because the inner critic has already squashed the creative process.

On the other hand, keeping a list of the days happenings seemed to be painless. I decided to give it a try.

I'm one week into the practice of using the common book. It's a remarkably freeing process. The common book doesn't require long, dramatic entries - just simple, short bullet point lists will do. I can fill it out in ten minutes or less. I keep the notebook in my purse and often jot something down during the day. Somedays the entries are pretty mundane - "got groceries", "chicken for supper", "finished newsletter". Once in a while something a little more inspiring slips through - "drove TJ to Red Rock and saw an awesome rainbow over the mountain. Skies soon clouded over again and went back to a misty rain. Weather site on the web calls it 'distant precipitation' ".

This listing of daily events frees me up to be more creative in my other journal. This journal is more like a scrapbook. Larger and with big blank pages that I can draw on, paste on, and scribble on. Sometimes I'll paste emails and letters into it, or notes from friends. I save movie and concert ticket stubs and paste those in - adding a little note about the performance. If I want to write a long diatribe, I have lots of room. I can cut out words and pictures from magazines and make a collage.

Because I've cleared out the clutter of my day and poured it into the common book, I can play in my scrapbook journal as often or as little as I want. I know I'll mine the common book later - to remember things that have happened, to write more about something I've recorded, to dig out nuggets for a poem.

No longer do my days seem to disappear in a blur. The minutiae of my everyday life is duly jotted down in my little common book. * o

Finding Freedom in the Common

Death of an Appliance - Reflections on Stress and Prayer

My week started and ended the same way - with the death of an appliance.

It started Monday morning. In the middle of drying my hair, with a half wet head, the motor on my hair dryer sped up, let out a high pitch whine and quit with the odorous aroma of burnt wiring.

It ended Friday evening. Wanting a second cup of tea, I flicked the switch on the electric kettle. Nothing happened. The very kettle that had just made a boiling cup of tea not more than half an hour previous could not even muster up a semi-boil. It had just enough energy to operate the "on" light and that was all.

Now the hair dryer's death I could understand. It had lived a long life and served its master well. But the kettle? It was barely a year old, it had hardly even begun to make tea! Sigh - so young to pass on.

My appliances are an odd parody of how I've been feeling lately. A little worn out, a little ready to give up. Sometimes my motor's running on a high whine and I think I catch a whiff of burnt wiring as I'm running out the door. At other times, I simply refuse to start up. The light's on, but I'm not boiling!

Good old stress has caught up to me. I become angry, resentful, and withdrawn. It was during this withdrawn, melancholy time, looking for words of comfort from scripture, that I was perusing The Book of Common Prayer, and came across this prayer for Eventide:

O Lord, support us all the day long of this troublous life, until the shadows lengthen and the evening comes, the busy world is hushed, the fever of life is over, and our work is done. Then, Lord, in thy mercy, grant us safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at the last; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

All the day long of this troublous life - that one phrase says it all. The writer of this prayer understood stress. And reminds me in whose peace I rest.

May the Lord grant you safe lodging, a holy rest and peace.

@2005 Eveline Maedel - All rights reserved * o

Death of an Appliance - Reflections on Stress and Prayer

Basho! Banana Tree

Thoughts on a Haiku Master

A banana plant in the autumn gale -
I listen to the dripping of rain
Into a basin at night.
~ Basho Matsuo (1644- 1694)

Basho sits outside his hut, gazing at his beloved banana plant. Rain falls, winds blow, seasons come and go, and still he gazes. Pouring boiling hot water onto fragrant tea leaves in a clay pot, he inhales the rising steam. The leaves of the banana plant rustle in the moonlight.

Basho, where are your drafts, outlines, rough sketches? Do you journal? How many hours a day do you write? Where are your morning pages, your marketing plans, your queries, your submissions?

A smile cracks his face, as Basho dips brush into ink and strokes the paper on his lap. In three short lines, it is finished.

In three short lines - the heart and soul of the poet. It is finished.

@2005 Eveline Maedel All rights reserved * o

Basho! Banana Tree

Phantom of the Opera

I have a cold. My son had knee surgery last week. Two seemingly unrelated events, yet they brought us together this afternoon. How? Since his surgery, my living-room has become recovery room central for my son. He eats, sleeps and watches TV on the pull out bed in the center of the room. We live around him.

A wicked head cold today helped me to decide to stay home and rest myself. Since I had a "captive" audience, I snuggled up on the other couch beside him and popped in my new DVD, "Phantom of the Opera". He couldn't very well run out of the room.

I have been in love with the Phantom story since first hearing the Andrew Lloyd Webber soundtrack years ago. It had always been a dream of mine to see the cast perform on stage at Pantages Theater in Toronto, but that dream never materialized. I was thrilled when I heard that a motion picture had been made and couldn't wait to get my hands on the DVD when it was released this month.

It did not disappoint. Emmy Rossum's voice sent goose-bumps up and down my arms. It was sheer joy to hear the all familiar tunes performed. And the visual effects in the movie are stunning.

For over two hours, the two of us were spellbound and glued to the TV. And what did my captive teenage son think at the end? He gave the film a resounding thumbs up.

Several years ago I read Susan Kay's novel, "Phantom". If you are haunted by the Phantom as I am, you have got to get your hands on a copy of this novel. Kay takes Gaston Leroux's original "Phantom of the Opera" and builds on it, digging deep into what created the Phantom, making him more than just the opera ghost, but an incredible three-dimensional character. Man or monster? I'll leave that to you decide, after you've read her story.

Just be sure to read it late at night, with the lights low. What's that chilling draft you feel on your neck? Is that music you hear?

"Beneath the opera house....I know he's there........." * o

Phantom of the Opera

With Apologies to Bill Shakespeare

I sweep, perchance to Swiffer
and vacuum, perchance to mop
for in that sweeping what thoughts are cleansed
cobwebs blown from dusty corners
problems solved in swift motion
what peace in Saturday
to sweep, to clean no more

@2005 Eveline Maedel - may not be reproduced without permission * o

With Apologies to Bill Shakespeare

More Travels on the Web

I have a few gems to share this week from my journeys on the web.

Rhodi Alers de Lopez
Writer and singer, Rhodi Alers de Lopez has just released her first CD, "Me Faltan Palabras" (My words are insufficient). A country flavored gospel album, with words in Spanish, this is a beautiful and uplifting work of praise music. Listening to it this morning, I was reminded that no matter what language you sing in (Spanish/English) or what style (gospel/opera), music truly is the language of the soul. Rhodi is also a writer, and her blog, Inkspirations, is worth checking out.

Nana's Notecards
If you're searching for notecards and such, check out Vicki Hawkins website, "Nana's Notecards & Such" You can choose from Vicki's designs featured on the site, or have Vicki custom design notecards for you. I was more than pleased with the cards Vicki did up for me. She's a delight to work with, and VERY fast!

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Throne
Humor writer Georgia Richardson has just released her first novel, A Funny Thing Happened on The Way to the Throne. Available in 2 weeks, you can pre-order copies now on her website. Hurry, they are bound to sell fast - Da Queen has a lot of fans!

And thanks to Erica Miner, for linking to my blog on her website! * o

More Travels on the Web