Soul Food

As I read through the Bible I write down the verses that jump out at me.  Most are about encouragement, stranding strong in hardships, holding fast in the storms, focusing your heart on the Lord and letting God change you.  I’ve been able to encourage others with them and now I am posting them here for you all. 

Romans 8:28 And we now that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose.

Psalm 57:7  My hear is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed: I will sing and give praise.

Psalm 51:10-12  Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me.  Cast me not away from thy presence; and take not thy holy spirit from me.  Restore unto me the joy of thy salvation; and uphold me with thy free spirit.

Psalm 51:17  The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.

Roman 12:2  And be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God.

Romans: 12:12  Rejoicing in hope,; patient in tribulation; continuing instant in prayer.

Romans: 13:12  The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armor of light.

Isaiah 35:4  Say to them that are of a fearful heart, Be strong, fear not: behold, your God will come with vengeance, even God with a recompense; he will come and save you.

II Timothy 1:9  Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to out works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.

What are some of your favorite verses?

Dead Air

I sit at my desk and stare forlornly at my notebook. Pen in hand I tap the blank sheet of paper glaring up at me. I frown and squeeze my eyes shut.
“Come on”, I whisper to myself, “Just think.” I aimlessly write a title at the top of the page; Notes for Chapter such-in-such. There, it’s not blank anymore. I sit back in my chair and glance out the window; raining, figures. Know I tap the pen on the edge of the desk and drum my finger beside it.
“Ah!” I toss the pen across the desk. It hits the wall and bounces off, clattering onto the desks wooden surface. I pick it up again, holding it close to my eyes as if examining it will reveal what to write. I rock my chair back on two legs, gripping the desk and groaning mentally. Dropping back to four legs I set my pen on the notebooks page as if to write, but my hand never moves. Letting go of the pen I leaned back in my chair once more. My gaze roams around the room stopping at my bookshelf, on my Bible. I haven’t opened it in a few days and gilt begins to creep into my head. The reason for my current state of Writer’s Black stares me in the face; when I let my relationship with the author of the world fall, my own authorship of stories falls. It is no surprise, I’ve realized this before, and now, here I am again. How many times do I have to learn this? I’m so dense. My hands drop to my lap and I look up at the ceiling,

“Father, forgive me. Here I am, help me, change me, let me not leave your side.” I bow my head and rub my eyes. “No more dead air between us, no more dead air from me.”

A Fire Within

It’s funny, there are times when I just want to throw my notebook across the room, break my pencil and pound my head against the wall I’m so frustrated with writing. Then there are the times when I feel so brain dead I can’t even come up with a more interesting synonym for “run”. But, there are always the times when the words just flow from my heart and I find myself crying over what I just wrote because the passion is there and it’s real, it’s from my soul.

Ever since I was a little girl I had this fire inside me, a zeal for something dyeing to get out and be seen by the world. I took it as a desire for adventure, a longing to experience amazing things, and that was partly it. But it seemed no matter what I did or where I looked I couldn’t find what that passion, (or fire), was for. Then, God put a pen in my hand and stirred my mind with possibilities of what we could create on paper together.

Honestly, I never wanted to be a writer, I wanted to go into music as a vocalist, but God had other plans. The first line in a movie I recently saw was, “If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans.” I can just see His smile when I decided to become a singer, how He must have gently shaken His head as He lovingly led me in another direction.

Now, writing is my passion, my second love, my act of worship. I think of what Eric Liddell said in Chariots of Fire, “When I run, I feel God’s pleasure.” That’s what’s writing is like for me, I’m doing what I was made to do, but I’m not doing it all alone. God’s beside me, He’s between the lines, He’s the underlying message. I am forever what He made me; a writer.

In Christ,
Laura

I can…through Him.

It’s Monday. Another week has flown by. I have to admit, I didn’t do very well last week.  I got a lot of work done with chapter four, but I did not finish it, and I should have. So, as is a habit of mine, I started to beat myself up on Friday. To add to it, there is no Stephen of Scarborough this week. I apologize to all you readers, (especially Daniel,) please be patient with me and I will have a nice long part four for you next Monday, (or Sunday.) Time is really a solid thing, and if you don’t use it properly it bites back. Well, that’s what happened last week, I misused my time and I got bit. I was feeling pretty low, thinking to myself, “Come on! You’re an adult, you should be acting like one!” Then…

Yesterday in Sunday School we went over Philippians 4:13, “I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.” We picked apart the verse, going over each word on its own. God really spoke to me during that time and gave me comfort.
The first word is “I”, me, not anyone else. God is telling this to me, making it personal.
“Can”; it’s not impossible.
“Do”; an action, this is something I must do.
“Everything”; not this or that, everything He has given me to do.
“Through”; He is there working in me, not through my inabilities but through His abilities.
“Him”; I am not alone, He is with me in it all.
“Who gives”; He gives me what I need, at the time I need it the most.
“Me”, the same as “I”.
“Strength”; how much strength? Enough.
Tears started to come to my eyes as I listen to God’s voice through these words. Yes, I had screwed up that week, yes I had wasted my time, yes I had let myself and Him down, but, He wanted to give me a second chance.
I, me, He still wanted to use me. The task He had given me was not impossible. He picked me up, pointed me in the right direction and I’ve once again began doing. No longer over whelmed because I know I can do everything He has given me to accomplish. I’m working through Him, with Him. I don’t have to rely on what I have alone, it’s by His power. He has given me the courage, the willpower, and the time. Then last but not least, He has given me just enough strength to finish every task one by one.

Praise God that He is so forgiving and quick to give us a second chance. Thank you Father.
“I can do everything through Him who gives me strength.”

In Christ,
Laura

Writing Magic

Since the blog has been dead for a few days, and for lack of anything better to post, here is another little scribbling of mine.  This one I wrote several months ago in March.  I had ment to go back and add another section to it, but by the time I returned, the thought had left.  So, it remained the way it was, and here it is now for your enjoyment. 

The nib of her pen scratches across the paper.  Slowly and steadily it performs the well known dance of its owner’s movements.  The letters begin to appear opening up a window into the writer’s heart, a picture, a new world undiscovered.  Stroke by stroke the story takes shape until it jumps off the page and swirls around the room singing in the writer’s mind.  Then suddenly a dragon arises from the deep, dark depths of the pages, its fiery breath burning away the words.  Undaunted by this fearsome intruder the writer skillfully wields her pen and battles the beast.  Just when it seems that the new world will perish the pen pricks a deadly blow and the dragon slips back to the depths from whence it came.  Once again peace resides in the writer’s mind until the next beast creeps from hidden recesses of doubt in an attempt to overthrow her imagination.  So she plows on, word by word, her story filling page after page. 

The worlds that are there to discover are unnumbered.  Once you pick up a pen and discover a few of those worlds for yourself there’s no going back.  No matter how much you resist or leave you pen untouched you find it is impossible not to write.  When you read you can visit another man’s world and participate in his character’s adventures.  When you write, you live it, and experience it in a whole new way.  You are the characters, the readers guide.  But be careful, fear the doubtful thought that threatens to over shadow that joy.  Always remember who is on your side.

A Light in the Darkness

When I feel lost, sad, or upset I write.  It’s a way of getting things out of my system and making sense of my mixed up thoughts.  Sometimes it’s only one or two lines, other times it can be a whole story or poem.  This is something I wrote last night, during one of those down times. 

 

I gazed into nothing. The sound of creaking planks echoed in the stillness as the floor dipped and swayed. It was so humid down here, but the dense air fueled my sober mood. Here I was, alone, not a friend to my name, rotting in the bowels of a ship. Not even the sea cared if I lived or died, and neither did I. My life had become the darkness around me, so thick, no light could pierce it. What was left to live for besides to draw breath? Even that brought pain to my bruised lungs. The ship heaved to the side, throwing me with it. I let myself smack the wall and crumpled to the floor. With my hands bound and my spirit crushed, there was little else I could do. Had life truly come to this? What events had brought me to such a forsaken place? Would I die here? Did I care? No, I had lost everything, life was gone already. Suddenly, a small light appeared above, a sliver of yellow casting its glow through a crack in the floor boards. Was it lantern light, a sun ray from an open hatch? The pin point of a glow illuminated my prison, the sealed barrels, the murky puddles, and my sorry form. I looked up into the tiny gap, marveling that such a small bit of light could sweep away so much darkness. I pondered the thought for a moment. Could there be a glimmer of light for me? Enough to chase the darkness from my heart and make life worth living again? The light source faded away and once again I was surrounded by nothing. I breathed in, life, I still had it, and as long as I had a light to guide me, it would always be worth living.

A Love Hate Thing

       Sometimes I really don’t like the story that I’m writing. Like now, I’m in the mist of Writer’s Block or, an Imagination Hiccup, and I just wish the story was finished. But of course, wishing doesn’t help me much. I’m seriously thinking about making a copy of my book and burning it in our wood stove. Yes, I like that idea. But even that won’t solve my problem.
       I think back to the verse in Isaiah 30 that says, “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength,” or in 1 Timothy, “Neglect not the gift that is in you.” How do these apply to Writer’s Block? When I set out to write stories that would glorify God I placed myself in His hands saying, “Here I am, use me and my abilities for Your purpose.” When I let discouragement get the better of me I pull myself out of God’s hands and into my own. I’m neglecting the gift that God gave me by not putting my hope in him and trusting that He will give me the strength that I need to see it through. “Commit thy way unto the LORD: trust also in Him and He shall bring it to pass,” Psalms 37:5. This has always been hard for me to do. I’m the kind of person who always has to been the strong one, but I am not.

       Right now I have a love hate thing with my story, and not just with my story, but with God as well. He gave me this task to do and what have I done with it? There were times of joyfulness, and contentment, but mostly the opposite. If I grumble about the job that God gave me to do, am I not grumbling about Him too? I know I can’t do it on my own, but I still try to do just that. I know without Him I would be nowhere, and yet I say that I am nowhere just because I am having trouble putting words on paper.
       With God there is no such thing as Writer’s Block. For Writer’s Block is just stepping out of God’s hands. If we step back in, He will help us through what He has called us to do.

“Therefore my beloved brethren, be ye stedfast unmovable, always abounding on the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord.” 1 Corinthians 15:58