The Road Taken... - by N. J. Lindquist

A few people have been talking about what they took home from this year’s Write! Canada conference this year.  (E.g. Janet Sketchley's blog)

What did I bring home? Memories.

Most of us are familiar with the Robert Frost poem, “The Road Not Taken,” with its famous ending,

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—   
I took the one less traveled by,   
And that has made all the difference.   

But there are times I think my life is more like the Dr. Seuss book, Because a Little Bug Went Ka-Choo!

I must have read that book out loud a thousand times or more over the years. It was one of my sons’ favourites. Okay, one of my favourites too. :)

Basically, it’s about the reality that one small thing can lead to another and that leads to another and so forth. As I look back on my life, so many things, all of which seemed minor or random at the time, resulted in meaningful things later on.

This year's conference was my 26th.

In the fall of 1988, I went for the first time because a friend "happened to mention" that there was going to be a writers’ conference at Ontario Bible College in Toronto that November. Although I felt weird going, because I wasn’t a “real” writer, I went.

N. J. Lindquist with her husband Les and their family in 1992.

While I was there, thanks to a random conversation with another newbie writer, I discovered there were writers’ market guides. That first guide gave me no end of help.

The following year I submitted a couple of things for critiques, and was told by the editor of a major American Publishing company that I was definitely a good enough writer to have my book published and be able to afford a housekeeper—my goal at the time. (Said editor thought I was writing about hockey in my novel when it was actually curling, but I ignored that part. :))

In 1991, I had my first book published (by Moody Press), I had a Judges Choice story published in the Toronto Star, and I had several acceptances from magazines, many of them because of appointments or random conversations at God Uses Ink.

Conference director Audrey Dorsch asked me to teach my first workshop at God Uses Ink that year, with editor/author Elma Schemenauer, because Elma said she’d prefer to teach with someone else. Soon after, because I’d sent a letter to Audrey offering suggestions, I was asked to become part of the steering committee.

Fast forward to June, 2001, and the Wednesday night before the conference. I was part of a small group of Canadian faculty who were told that the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada was unable to continue putting on God Uses Ink, and this would be the last year.

At that time, there was email and Yahoo groups were starting to build up, but there was little in the way of social media, blogs, etc. The God Uses Ink conference was still my only tangible link to other Canadian writers and editors who were Christian. The others in our group, including the   current conference director Bill Fledderus, felt the same way I did—that we had to find a way to keep it going—but no one knew how to do that. We prayed for help.

I woke up before 6:00 Thursday morning with the scary but strong assurance that God wanted me to keep the conference going. At 6:30, I phoned my husband Les and told him what had happened.

Knowing my goal was to write full-time while we started a church plant in the area we’d just moved into, Les asked me if I was sure that this what God wanted me to do.

“Yes,” I said. I had complete peace about it.

Without a second’s delay, he said, “Okay, then. Do what you need to do. We’ll make it work.”

As we went through that long summer, there were many meetings with other writers as well as people from the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada, and we had to prepare all sorts of proof that we could handle it, and that we were the best people to do it. 

We eventually got permission to use the God Uses Ink name, and then we had to scramble to organize the conference for the following year. At that point, Wendy and I took on official roles with The Word Guild as Executive Director (me) and Associate Director (Wendy) as well as co-directors of the conference.

Because Les had had experience as a church treasurer, he took on the thankless and generally frustrating job of treasurer, and began attending all of our meetings. He had little personal interest in writing at that time, and had begun the journey only to support me, but now he began to “get” it, and to become just as passionate as we were to make this happen.

In November, writer/editor Denyse O’Leary connected us with John Franklin, director of Imago, and The Word Guild was accepted as a project. This gave us credibility and also enabled us to raise money and give tax receipts. Wendy and her parents, Les and I, and a few others, put in as much money as we could so we’d have some capital.

N. J. with Larry Willard at God Uses Ink in 2002.

On January 31, 2002, we began taking memberships. Our first official member was Audrey Dorsch, who is currently a member of the board.  

And 13 years later, The Word Guild and its flagship conference, now called Write Canada, are still here, still helping writers like me learn what they need to learn to make a difference.

Wendy and I usually get the bulk of the credit, and while we appreciate our efforts being remembered, many people played a part, not only in the beginning when the small group of us were adamant to keep the conference going, but over the years when many have taken leadership roles, prayed, encouraged, taught, and done a variety of things as God has directed.

If I had to list everyone who has taken on a role with The Word Guild, this blog would be ginormous! The good thing is, God knows. And really, we were doing it because we believed it's what He wanted us to do.

Wendy (on left) and N. J. (on right) with Sandra Manning (middle), getting the
Leading Women Award for Communications and Media in Calgary in 2006.

Just as I hope that's why you do what you do. Even though we may not see where it's going at the beginning. I just wanted to write, and then to keep the conference going. Everything else was God's plan, not mine.

I expect that each of us can look back on our lives and see the chain of events that has led us to where we are today. One little yes or no, one random or not too random path taken or not taken, can truly make all the difference.

N. J. and Les with The Word Guild member Sally Meadows.
Photo taken by Sally's husband.

The strangest thing, to me, is that during the last two years, while I’ve finally been able to focus on my original goal of being a full-time writer, Les has been the one who is actively involved with The Word Guild. And he’s just as committed as I ever was to the vision of releasing the voices of the Canadian writers who are Christian in order to impact people of our country and beyond.

Funny how these things go, isn’t it? Or maybe not.


N. J. Lindquist is writing a third mystery and a memoir, among other things.

You can get a free book at http://www.njlindquist.com and a free short story at http://jamenzies.com. Yes, she has two identities now. 

How a Bad Pun Birthed a New Song - Carolyn Arends

Knowing how many writers frequent this blog, I thought you might relate to this recent post from my own blog about the serious business of playing with words:

I've always loved puns. I was never particularly adept at schoolyard games, but I could make words play. (You can imagine how popular this made me in grade school.)

For a little stretch his past month, I enjoyed posting a daily pun on my Facebook page and watching my friends cyber-groan.

I know a guy who's addicted to brake fluid. He says he can stop anytime.

I'm reading a book on anti-gravity. I can't put it down.

Don't trust atoms. They make everything up.

and:

I stayed up all night to see where the sun went. Then it dawned on me.

An unexpected thing happened with that last pun. I'm spending these warm days summer working on a Christmas record. It began to, well, dawn on me that at the heart of the  "dawn on me" joke there beat a rather promising song idea.

I started to think about what the first dawn after the birth of Jesus must have been like. I wondered if an exhausted Joseph, holding his adopted newborn in the aftermath of one very strange night, suddenly remembered the words of the prophet Isaiah:

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. - Isaiah 9:2

I found myself writing the following lyrics from Joseph’s perspective:

What was he thinking in the starlight?

Did he have time to think at all?

A carpenter his whole life

Now he was a midwife

And then the shepherds came to call.

When Joseph held the newborn baby

Was the whole meaning still unclear?

A man can get so tired

Even angel choirs

Just leave a ringing in his ears.

Was it all a blur, all too much?

Until at last, the sun came up …

Did it dawn on him

At the moment when

Morning chased the night away?

Did it dawn on him

This was God with him

In the light of Christmas day

At about this stage in the songwriting process, I began to wonder if one can legitimately write a song inspired by a bad pun. I worried for a bit. But then I thought about the fact that what makes a pun work is the delight (or dismay, depending on how you feel about puns) of discovering that one word can mean two (or more) things.

A baby comes. He means disrupted sleep and diaper changes and all the usual baby things. He also, if the angels are to be believed, means Salvation. He is a word - the word - made flesh, come to play among us.

"Is it possible," Frederick Buechner wonders, "to say that it is only when you hear the Gospel as a wild and marvellous joke that you really hear it at all? Heard as anything else, the Gospel is the church’s thing, the preacher’s thing, the lecturer’s thing. Heard as a joke – high and unbidden and ringing with laughter – it can only be God’s thing."

I decided it was OK to write a song based on a pun. And so I wrote verse 2.

Now we put Joseph in the stable

We put the stable on display

A sweet nativity scene

Fragments of an old dream

What kind of difference does it make?

But if that baby in the manger

Came to be Light for everyone

Maybe all the darkness

Deep inside our hearts is

A sign that only he can come

And end at last the tyranny

Of endless night and set us free …

Let it dawn on us

Like the morning sun

Let him chase our night away

Let it dawn on us

This is God with us

In the light of Christmas day

Shortly after I finished writing the song, my friends over at Andrew Peterson's Rabbit Room blog reposted a CT column I had written a while back about the possible link between pleasure and worship. I'd talked about how eating the delicious chile con queso at my favourite TexMex restaurant was a worship experience for me. I'd defended my line of argument by noting that CS Lewis claimed every sensual enjoyment (properly received) could be a "tiny theophany" -  a small but important revelation of God.

The column, perhaps predictably, ended with a pun: "I rest my queso." In the comments section, someone named  J. T. Adamson posted encouragingly, and I had to grin at his final sentence:

Well said, well said…and ended with a pun, and a pun (properly received) is a “tiny theophany” (at least for me).

Ha! So come, let us adore the tiny theophany in the manger, the word who's meaning can never be exhausted. Whether it's June or December, I pray he dawns on each one of us today.

Merry Christmas!

Carolyn

www.carolynarends.com

IS THAT A "Should" ON YOUR SHOULDER? - by Heidi McLaughlin

“If you had only thirty days to live, what is one thing in your life that you would stop right now? This provoking question fueled a lively discussion among my group of friends. After much animated banter, one main theme glaringly came into focus: Eliminate the life-sucking “shoulds”from our daily activities. We agreed that many of succumb to the guilt-induced obligations because we are afraid that people might not like us or approve of us. The interaction got even livelier as we tried to determine the obligations we needed to let go of so that we could enjoy the vibrant, fulfilling life that Jesus came to model for us.

There is one main statement I hear among women these days: “I am so tired!”It is a proven statistic that today we sleep 1-1/2 hours less that we did one hundred years ago.[i] More motor vehicle accidents are being reported because men and women are falling asleep at the wheel. There is an increase of sleep disorders, illnesses, depression and anxiety. What does this have to do with the “shoulds” in our daily activities? Many of us are working very hard to meet the demands of every day existence, but sadly, we also succumb to the “shoulds” that deplete our energy, cause our stress and rob us of freedom and joy. I think it is crucial that I ask myself this question: “As an author, do I write because it is my passion, it fills my soul, it gives me joy, or, do I write because I don’t want to disappoint people or even try to prove something?”

Whenever I am in doubt, I look to Jesus who modeled the abundant, fulfilling life. I can visualize him looking around at a ragged, bunch of over-zealous, overburdened humans and He was compelled to say this: “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly" (Matthew 11:29 MSG).

Whenever I read these words I feel like I want to curl up in His lap and cry. I want to get away from all the unnecessary shoulds in my life and learn how to live the “unforced rhythms of grace.” I need to be confident and bold enough to say “yes” to only those things that I have been created to do. Marcus Buckingham, the author of Find Your Strongest Life, says this about the shoulds. “Because you neglect the specific moments that strengthen you, your life gradually becomes filled up with the grab bag of activities and responsibilities. You may have a good reason for taking on each of these responsibilities-everything from…’If I don’t do this, no one else will’ to A good mother should do this.” [ii]Unfortunately this barrage of demands makes women feel responsible and we end up doing things that are not part of God’s plan for our lives.

So how do we find those “unforced rhythms of grace” and begin to say no to the “shoulds” and find that rest we so desperately need? Let’s walk with Jesus and learn from Him:

1.         He knew His purpose. Yes, he worked hard, but he always focused on His purpose in life…”to do the will of His Father”  (John 8:28; Matthew 26:39).
2.         He prayed. Early in the morning He went up to secluded places to talk to His Father (Luke 6:12, Mark 1:35, Luke 5:16).
3.         He fed on the word of God. When He was vulnerable and tempted, He told Satan, “It is written” (Matthew 4:4, 10).
4.         He slept when He was tired. In the midst of chaos and storms, Jesus was able to sleep because His soul was at rest (Matthew 8:24).
5.         He was thankful for His present circumstances. Before Jesus performed miracles, or broke the bread and served the wine-He looked up to Heaven and prayed (John 11:41, Mark 14:22).
6.         He owned very little “stuff”. He was not obsessed with accumulating new clothes, toys or technical equipment that seems to consume our time (Matthew 8:20).

Trying to please everyone in this life is exhausting; it drains us of energy when we succumb to the authority of other people instead of Christ. Oh that we might learn to let go of some of the ugly “shoulds” in our life and move into step with Jesus as we practice the unforced rhythms of grace.

[i] http://psychcentral.com/lib/2010/sleep-deprived-nation/ (August 24^th, 2012)

[ii] Marcus Buckingham, Find Your Strongest Life: What the Happiest and Most Successful Women Do Differently (Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson, 2009) 90, 91.

Heidi McLaughlin lives in the beautiful vineyards of the Okanagan Valley in Kelowna, British Columbia, Canada. She is married to Pastor Jack and they have a wonderful, eclectic blended family of 5 children and 9 grandchildren. When Heidi is not working, she loves to curl up with a great book, or golf and laugh with her husband and special friends. You can reach her at: www.heartconnection.ca

Confessions of a Father's Day Dropout by David Kitz

 This morning I dropped my wife off at the Ottawa airport. As I write these words, she is winging her way to Edmonton, where she will spend Father's Day with her eighty-seven year-old dad. I'm delighted that she can spend a week reconnecting with him in that special daughter to father bond.

As an only daughter, it has not been easy for Karen to live so far from her father. This has been especially true over the last ten years, ever since her mother passed away. Dad Burgess has had to learn how to fend for himself—not an easy task when you reach your eighties with no immediate family nearby. Fortunately, he has managed quite well. I spent a few days with him while on a ministry trip to Edmonton in March, but now it's Karen's turn to enjoy his company.

My father-in-law's gain is my loss. While Karen is making her dad's Father's Day special, mine will be a bit bleak without her. There is nothing unusual about that for me. Over the last few years I have often been absent or on the road for Father's Day. Call me a Father's Day dropout.

I'll blame the Write Canada Conference for that absence. Invariably the Write Canada Conference falls on the Father's Day weekend. Though the conference ends on Saturday, I usually choose to stay in southwestern Ontario another day to minister at a church in the area. The net result is that I don't arrive back in Ottawa until late Sunday evening—too late for a Father's Day celebration.

But fathers are worth celebrating on any day. Yesterday, Karen walked up to me with a large shopping bag. She said, "Reach inside. Go fish."

"Go fish?" Here is what I found:

 

I love those smiling wooden fish. Even more than that, I love the one who gave them to me—the one who made me a father. As for my two sons, one called me as I drove home Sunday evening and the other dropped in with his wife, a gift, and a hug five minutes after I arrived home.

David Kitz is an ordained minister and Bible dramatist with the Foursquare Gospel Church of Canada: http://www.foursquare.ca/ For details on his book and drama ministry visit http://davidkitz.ca/

  

On Bliss

Since I'll be at WRITE! Canada when this appears, I'm sharing a poem from my store of writings.  Hope you enjoy it.

On Bliss

 I once was asked  to contemplate  

          Get right into the mood of this-  

Consider what are all the things, 

          That surely would bring me much bliss.

I sat back and put up my feet,

          And started to stare into space,

Is bliss doing, being, seeing?

          This question I surely must face.

 

So I sat there, really pondered

          And slowly my thoughts came around.

To my mind there came a whisper

          From my heart  where such things are found.

To begin each day in quiet,

          Listening for love sounds from God,

To step out on a fall morning

          To smell pungent leaves and the sod.

To crunch through the leaves in autumn

          See purple lined clouds in the sky,

To see dew kissed flowers and webs,

          And catch them with camera’s eye,

To walk along sandy beaches

          Find round pebbles of every hue,

To walk, ski, sit in the moonlight,

          Feel peace and hushed quiet anew,

To catch the marvelous sweet scent

          Of wood shavings or new-mown hay,

Taste a strawberry from the patch

          Or a wild one found on the way,

 To sit with canvas and brushes,

          Then painting the beauty around,

To listen to birds insect, frogs,

          As they each lend musical sound,

 

To sit at cottage’s lakeside,

          And hear o’er the water, loon’s call,

To see the beautiful sunset

          And the first star when comes night-fall,

To hold the hand of a loved one,

          Behold a child’s eyes with love’s light,

To experience meeting of minds,

          Bond with another in delight,

To face challenge inviting growth,

          And draw on the depth of your soul,

To laugh at yourself, share a joke,

          To reach an unreachable goal.

These, just a few that bring delight,

          That in this life I’d hate to miss,

In truth, as I pondered it o’er,

          Certainly they’re what I would call bliss.

But what is bliss, kept to oneself,

          And hoarded in silence alone?

It’s true, that it can feed one’s soul

          Bring a harmony to life’s tone.

But share that bliss with another,

          And worship your Maker on high,

Bring praise, exuberant thanksgiving

          Let Him hear your awe-filled cry,

Your bliss may surprise, astound you,

          As it’s multiplied, then abounds

Warmed in His beautiful presence,

          You’ll stand there on God’s Holy ground.

Blessings on the road ahead --Carolyn R. Wilker

Our neighbours across the street have sold their home and will be moving away. Seniors in their 80s, they've gone to Florida for winters for many years. We have come to know them over time as we talk about gardening and other matters of concern to both of us. Today we will celebrate with them as they prepare for a new step.

My husband and I grew up in a rural community and were used to knowing our neighbours, even when they lived a half mile away. Neighbours might work together in threshing groups and share a combine or they may help out someone struggling to get crops in when circumstances prevent that owner from getting it done, whether illness or accident in the family. The community becomes like an extended family, such as in 1979, the year my parents’ community banded together to help those who endured losses after a devastating tornado.

When we moved to the city, on account of my husband’s job, we soon learned that city people operate a little differently. While they live closer together, residents do not necessarily mix. We found, though, that where there were children, families tend to talk a little more and watch out for another child. And the time our car got stuck on a snow-clogged street one of our first winters on this street, residents came out of their homes to help dig out our car. I was most grateful.

We met two neighbours the first few days we moved to our current home, one when our daughter borrowed a can opener so my mother and aunt could make lunch for the moving crew. The second, on the day after our move, when our next-door neighbour came to welcome us and introduced himself. We would have to wait until Easter when our snowbird neighbours from across the street came home from Florida. Eventually, I crossed the street and said hello.

 When we built our workshop, the gentleman across the street would come over from time to time to see how things were going. And thus relationships began to build.

Then as our grandchildren came along, his wife began bringing back small surprises from their trip for our small ones, and I would take the children over to see her sometimes.

In times past, before Internet connections and cell phones make long distance communication possible, when a family was moving away, their neighbours might never see them again. Someone might say, “God go with you,” on what could be a perilous journey across the ocean, to a far-off land.

So too, today, in spite of advances in travel, we do not know what tomorrow will bring. We, too, send off our visitors from our door with a handshake or hug, wishing our guests a safe journey.

And so this afternoon, I will host a gathering in honour of our neighbours who are moving. We will have tea, lemonade and some treats along with time for socializing with one another. We may not say good-bye forever, necessarily, but we will mark this change in their lives. Thus I share my thoughts through an Irish blessing, the tune in my head as I write. It offers peace and well-being and the message, “God go with you.”

May the road rise up to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

And rains fall soft upon your fields.

And until we meet again,

May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

If you'd like to hear the melody, go here. 

Imperfectly Lovable - HIRD

By Rev. Dr. Ed Hird 

My doctoral advisor, Dr. Paddy Ducklow, recently alerted me to a remarkable woman Dr. Brene Brown.  Her TED talk on The Power of Vulnerability went viral with over fifteen million people who have watched it so far.  As a fellow Social Worker, I deeply appreciated Brene’s fascinating research on vulnerability, shame, and perfectionism. Many people miss the connection between shame and perfectionism.   Brene says that where there is perfectionism, there is always shame, because perfectionism gives birth to shame.  Perfectionism keeps us from being our best self.  It keeps us from showing up and being present.  It keeps us from being loved and giving love to others.

Brene said that “perfectionism is a thought process that if I look perfect, live perfect, work perfect and do it all perfectly, I can avoid or minimize shame, blame, judgement and criticism.” Brene called perfectionism her favorite twenty-ton shield that she carried for many years.  It doesn’t work though in protecting us.  Perfectionism shuts down joy, love, and connection.  It is rooted in our desire for external validity, rather than being true to ourselves. 

Perfectionism is radically contagious and seductive.  Brene, who describes herself as a recovering perfectionist, says that it is the greatest enemy of transformative leadership.  We try to cure our perfectionist hangovers with yet more perfectionism.  Many people are trying to painfully earn the love of other people through the futile search for perfectionism.  Many of us think that we need to be perfect to be lovable. 

Voltaire said that perfect is the enemy of good.  That is why Brene said “If you want to avoid blame, shame, judgment and criticism, do nothing.  It is part of the human experience.”  Perfectionism tempts us to bury our gifts rather than make a lasting contribution. Wayne Gretzky notably commented that you miss 100% of the shots you don't take. 

Perfectionism keeps us stuck in procrastination.  Brene said that “very few perfectionists ever publish books.”  When writing my second book ‘Battle for the Soul of Canada’, I often felt tempted to give up.  Why bother?  It’s too much of a hassle.  There are too many roadblocks to having it published.  Every time I write a book, I have to push through my perfectionism.  My coach Dr. Terry Walling has been a big encouragement to me in my book writing, saying: “My sense is that God is wanting you to hear his voice. It’s time for you to contribute.  It’s time for you to write.  It’s time for you to share your thinking and whether people agree with you or not, is not as important as you being able to trust him enough that he will take the things that you say to help advance his kingdom.”

God keeps sending people to me like Dr Terry Walling and Dr Brene Brown who remind me that I don’t need to be perfect.  Jesus is the only one who is perfect, and he perfectly loves each one of us, even to the point of the cross.   My prayer is that you know in the depth of your being that God is not waiting to love you.  He is just waiting for you to accept how much he perfectly loves you.

The Rev. Dr. Ed Hird, Rector

St. Simon’s Church North Vancouver

Anglican Mission in the Americas (Canada)

-an article for the July 2014 Deep Cove Crier

http://edhird.com

p.s. In order to obtain a copy of the book ‘Battle for the Soul of Canada’, please send a $18.50 cheque to ‘ED HIRD’, #1008-555 West 28th Street, North Vancouver, BC V7N 2J7. For mailing the book to the USA, please send $20.00 USD. This can also be done by PAYPAL using the e-mail ed_hird@telus.net . Be sure to list your mailing address. The Battle for the Soul of Canada e-book can be obtained for $9.99 CDN/USD.

-Click to download a complimentary PDF copy of the Battle for the Soul study guide : Seeking God’s Solution for a Spirit-Filled Canada

You can also download the complimentary Leader’s Guide PDF: Battle for the Soul Leaders Guide