30 May 2015

Untold Stories

What does the message say? Write it.
From Pinterest

Lost in the sea of story and song,
I am drifting.
Collecting words like an old bottle,
Full of the messages of a lifetime.
And laughter tastes salty on my lips.
Oh, these waves of untold glory, unspoken pain,
Passing through naught but the glint of his eye,
Or the tap of her toe on the shoreline,
They overwhelm me.
I sit on my hands to keep them from twitching,
Itching to weave the tale of the metal-encased man
Whose body struggled on, even when his mind had died,
‘Til his last breath escaped him unawares.
Or the story that the builder tells, offhanded-like, as if it doesn’t bear him up,
As if it didn’t mold him, etch lines into his face,
Etch years into his heart.
That a boy of life went to war,
And came back a man of loss.
Or the song that the little girl will never sing,
Of lost and found,
Lost and found,
Lost and found again.
The words rush in an incomprehensive lump,
The wild sound of the sea caught in a shell.
The stories loop and intertwine, meld and twist,
Contort in my head like the image of the sky from underneath the many waters,
Until the words break apart and reform into one word,
Just one.


29 May 2015

PFYTF: Opposites

Penny For Your Thoughts Friday: May 29 Edition!

My sister, the amazing Jess: "I just love making my bed. It makes it look so nice."

In the same moment, me, sitting at my computer: *loudly sucks honey off spoon and throws it into sink*

I think we're opposites.

And yet we're still best friends.

P.S. Sorry for the lack of posts. I have been super busy! I will definitely be back on Monday, though, with the next Monday Madness. Maybe before, you never know. But I thought an apology was in order. *hands you consolation donuts*

24 May 2015

I Got Tagged Like Fifty Million Times

Okay, only by Cally, Addy, Treskie, and sort of, half-heartedly (but I take the challenge) by Becca. And if that isn't enough to make me get on here and post, I don't know what will. ;-) Thanks guys!

FIRST. Here is the required picture.

I do not wish to restate the rules because I intend to follow them. XD That made no sense but still. Dude, I've got like a bazillion questions to answer.
So Cally's first.
1. Last dream you had?
The last one I remember, which was the night before last, I was kidnapped by the camp nurse and taken on an airplane.
2. What do you normally eat for breakfast?
Um, I fluctuate between like bagels and berries and random stuff. I am not a big breakfast eater solely for the reason that we hardly ever have breakfast foods. O.O
3. Any songs that you just absolutely love?
"Come Thou Fount" is like my favorite right now. Also, "Depth Over Distance" by Ben Howard and everything Colony House always.
4. Current favorite post?
What kind of question is THAT? I've gotta say, it's this one.
5. Thought of the day?
Working together is the best sort of fellowship. Also, using the wood splitter is soothing.
6. Are you ready for summer?
Not entirely sure. XD
7. Something I may not know about you?
When I was a kid, my big brother convinced me to trade quarters for pennies because he was collecting quarters, Jess was collecting nickels and dimes, and I got stuck with pennies. I thought this was an amazing arrangement, adored my big brother's genius, and was terribly angry with my mother when she put an end to the transactions. How was my penny collection ever going to grow if I couldn't trade all of those useless quarters, nickels, and dimes?
8. When you hear the word Run, what do you think (of)?
"YOU BETTER RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN." I have no idea what the quote is from, but that is what I think of.
9. What is the weather like right now?
It is partly cloudy, the stars are peeking around and shining fervently, and it is not, as it was earlier, snowing or hailing.
10. What makes you smile?
Countless other things but man. Hacky-sack. That has to be the most hysterical game on the face of the earth.
11. If you had the chance to travel through space, for any amount of time, would you?
Yes. I would go for a year and come back a hundred earth-years later. Like Leonard the Lonely Astronaut. Though I say that because I will probably not go to space so I can say something crazy like that. XD
12. Describe how you feel right now in one word. 
13. Do you have any favorite posts posted this week (by you or by others)?
This post made me write a novel sized comment. Adored it.
14. Smell of rain or feel of sunlight?
Look at the title of my blog. RAIN! ;-)
15. Can you?
I don't know, can you go to the bathroom????
1.) What's your dream job?
Working in an orphanage and basically holding babies all day long.

2.) What would you like your first car to be? (if you already have one, what model was your first car?)
HA about having one. XDDDDD I really have no preference. I'm not a car nerd. At all. I just need something that runs well and has good gas mileage. *shrugs*

3.) Doctor Who or the Star Trek, the original series?
My only experience with Doctor Who was a weird night where we watched part of one episode and I had noooooo idea what was going on. My only experience with Star Trek is Star Trek: Into Darkness.
I do not care to expand my experience on either fronts.

4.) What is your favorite word to write?

5.) What is your favorite word to say?

6.) Would you prefer your guy to be tall or short?
I think I want a tall guy...

7.) If you had a choice between being blonde or brunette, which would you choose?
Brunette. And I am, so it all works out. Though blondes are very pretty, I do like having dark hair.

8.) Can you move all your fingers independently of each other?
I do not think so. *tries it* NOPE.

9.) Are you a Marvel girl or do you like DC?
Never watched DC anything and at this point, do not care for Marvel. Cry me a river.

10.) Did you know 15 questions is a lot to think up? Gosh.
I did.

11.) Who said, "Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few.”?
I wanna say......................................................I wanna say I know, but I really don't.

12.) Do you like fantasy?
Heck yes!

13.) Are you a leftie?
Sadly, no. I do play hockey leftie.

14.) How tall are you?
5'11 3/4"

15.) If curiosity kills the cat, does satisfaction bring it back?
I always thought curiosity only seriously mangled the cat.
1. Something you feel strongly about?
I feel strongly about the term "etc." because folks, I hate to break it to you, it's not "ect."
On a more serious note (though I really do feel strongly on that point) I feel strongly about Christianity, fellowship, and adoption.
2. A place you would like to visit someday?
Hm, so many. Ireland, perhaps? China? Germany?
3. Cool, obscure skill or talent you have?
I haz no skiwz.
4.Something I most likely don't know about you?
I burnt some of the hair on my arms off the other day because we had a humongous bonfire.
5. Favorite genre of music?
I like basically everything excluding country music and most rap.
6. What are you going to do with your life?
Am I supposed to know???
7. How do you react in stressful/frightening situations?
I don't do well with stress, really. With frightening, I think I freeze up, but it's hard to remember...
8. Is being right/correct important?
That question can go several ways, man. I don't care who's right about the price of tea in China.
9. What is the last word you spoke aloud?
"So" in the context of "I don't think so."
10. If you could change anything about your physical appearance, would you? If so, what?
I would be short and have straight teeth I think.
11. Do you lean more towards introvert or extrovert?
12. Slugs or snails? (Important question, that.)
Snails. Slugs are gross to step on.
13. If you were travel back in time to any time period, where would you go? And this is not an optional trip. You're lucky you get to chose the time.
Hummmm. I want to say either when Jesus was around (if I was guaranteed a meeting) or back to when my dad was a kid because that would be hysterical to watch. From the sidelines. XD
14. Did anything terrible happen to you in your childhood?
My younger brother hit me in the head with a shovel. I think it's affected me terribly...
15. How fast can you run?
About as fast as a sleepy turtle.
Where is home?
I'm not there yet.
What do you like on your French Toast?
Butter, berries, syrup. In that order.
What's the first thing you do when you wake up?
Wonder what time it is, usually.
What does family mean to you?
Either people you're stuck with or people you adopt. *shrugs* ;-) Family is the bestest.
Are cliches overrated?
Mm, yeah, probably. XD
What juice is your favorite?
Does grey make you happy or sad?
Do you like minty tea or fruity tea better?
I LIKE CHAI. I realize that wasn't one of the options but man. Chai is killer.
What is your opinion on slippers?
Use them, my friend. No shame.
When do you feel that you really know a person?
When you have seen them rolling on the floor laughing, crying, yelling, screaming, and feel comfortable enough to talk about anything around.
Do you like cake or pie?
Green leaves or winter barrenness?
Green leaves, I shall admit. Though I love each season in its own right.
The ocean or the land?
The mountains, then the ocean.
Do you enjoy running?
What gives you a reason to keep on living?
Hebrews 12:1-3, Galatians 6:9....in a nutshell, Jesus Christ and the joy that He sets before us.
THANK YOU ADDY. Thank you everyone! And thank you for reading this. *wipes brow*
And anyone else who finds my questions intriguing!
Questions (last thing...*wipes brow again*)
1.) Favorite Bible verse? Or one that's been knocking around in your head lately?
2.) Favorite flower?
3.) If you had a hot air balloon, what color would it be?
4.) What do you keep in your purse?
5.) Do you like the smell of campfire?
6.) Have you ever laughed so hard you nearly pulled a muscle? If so, at what? If not, what was the hardest you ever laughed at something?
7.) Do you put real people into your novels and then feel bad whenever you read the very first page of published novels?
8.) Do you have a jewelry box? What is your favorite piece of jewelry?
9.) What villain do you most relate with? And what hero/heroine?
10.) Do you like to receive letters? Do you like to write letters?
11.) Open your book (yep, the one that you are writing) and go to the last page. What is the first complete sentence on that page? (If you aren't writing a book, pick the book that you are reading up and do the same).
12.) Do you journal? What does your journal look like if so?
13.) If you could magically learn a language (but only one) what would you choose?
14.) How would you describe your style?
15.) What does friendship mean to you? What does a good friend look like?

22 May 2015

PFYTF: To Build a River

Penny For Your Thoughts Friday, May 22 Edition!
"... stillness can really accompany a lot of the movement-type practices. One of my favorite passages from one of my Chinese Ch'an teachers reminds us of this principle: "Be soft in your practice. Think of the method as a fine silvery stream, not a raging waterfall. Follow the stream. Have faith in its course ... It will take you there." This idea of being soft in your practice.., this relates to the capacity to be soft in the subtle body. " ~Tias Little
From Pinterest

Today, we built a river.

Well, okay, it wasn't a river. It wasn't even a creek. We merely diverted all the water that was pouring off the mountain from the rain we've been getting off of the road and into the river.

And man was I proud of that thing. Because it worked. We pushed our shovels into soft ground, we levered out rocks, we patted and pounded and we made that little current of water flow into where it was meant to go.

Like, so proud. Like I just wanted to watch it flow.

There was a waterfall.

I couldn't stop thinking about it. The beauty of it was overwhelming and the fact that I was part of the team that just diverted that water gently.

Can you imagine how it must have felt to create the world? How crazy is it that our ecstasy when we create or accomplish something or something is borne of the work of our hands, all of that is a reflection of the joy of the Creator when He said, "Behold, this is very good." I mean, that just makes my brain go !!!!!!!!!!!!!

So yeah. That's the thought that has been whirling around in my brain and I needed to solidify it on paper otherwise it would have been like, "RIVER! Precious river. So beautiful. I'm so proud. Oh river, river. Oh man, yeah, God is so good. Oh man. River. It is so pretty! I want to go look at it right now. Oh man, it's so satisfying for something to work out like that."


What'cha all been thinking about lately?

21 May 2015

Floors and Prayer

Bill Brandt  When I read my grandmother's diary, she  almost always ended the day by scrubbing her kitchen floors
From Pinterest
Have you ever washed the floor? Not with a mop, I mean down on your knees, scrubbing one patch at a time.

Scrub, scrub, scrub, polish, scoot back. And repeat.

When you first see the floor, there’s a moment of internal panic because this floor is big and your rag is small.

But you kneel down, you take a deep breath, and you scrub hard.

It’s funny how much that sounds like prayer.

Prayer is sometimes a tricky thing for me. A lot of times it’s a, “Oh, man, it’s bedtime and I need to pray” type-thing, without really feeling the spirit moving within me, just feeling the urgent desire to sleep.
Kind of like scrubbing hard a floor that looks like it'll never be finished.

But that floor was finished.

That thought explodes in my mind, moving me with the utter awe of this--

"And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Philippians 1:6)
I mean, how powerful is that?

It's like scooting back as you wash your floor. It gives you perspective. All of the sudden you see a little strip of clean floor where there was once dirty floor--you see the renewal and transformation of your mind and spirit as you are sanctified and grow closer to God.

Can we just take a moment to say, "Wow!"? Because seriously, guys.

That is amazing.

May we always pray with the hope of scrubbed floors set thick in our minds. 

18 May 2015

This is the Post that is the Beginning

Because it's time to start the story that Candence and I are writing together! *does a jig* It's gonna be fun, peoples.

So, without further ado.....

New York City street by Shht!, via Flickr Print this pic out for Alyssa (room decor), dreams of going and there and being a star
From Pinterest
I was hit by a car on the corner of 1st and Main Street. It was either me or the dog, and it should have been the dog. He would have done more damage to the car. But no, it was me. And as I was sprawled on the ground, looking up at the sky, I thought I saw the stars.
But logically? That was impossible because it was in the middle of the city, in the middle of the day.
But it was nice to find out that the comic books don't actually lie to you.
The driver got out of his car in a hurry, his phone already pressed to his ear, talking to a 9-1-1 operator.
"Yeah, I hit someone with my car. I think they're alive. Should I check? Okay, yes, hold on..."
I popped my eye open, which I had squeezed shut after getting dizzy from the swirling of the tops of the skyscrapers paired with those awful, blinky stars.
Driver-man was a nervous looking (though I suppose I'd be nervous too if I'd just hit some unsuspecting teenager with my car), forty-something, balding guy who seemed to have a sweating problem, as he was absolutely drenched. He walked over to me, but not before glancing over his shoulder several times, then putting his hood up (if the guy was so hot he was sweating, why not take the jacket off?).
Of course, Beowulf started barking. He has a pretty startling bark even if you're expecting it, and the guy certainly wasn't expecting it, so he jumped almost two feet in the air.
I chuckled under my breath, then, after regaining the feeling in my body, I sat up slowly. Probably shouldn't have, but I did.
"I'm okay," I muttered, putting a hand to my head.
Driver-man scooted closer to me, nervously eyeing Beowulf, then squatted down. "Hey, sorry kiddo. I...er...I didn't see you."
"Maybe you were going a little fast there, buster," I said. "I'm wearing a bright red coat and walking alongside a Great Dane."
"Yeah, um, hm. Well, uh, there's an ambulance coming soon and, uh, well, yeah. The cops are coming too, I guess."
I shrugged. "I don't really need an ambulance, but I guess it's too late."
Thankfully, Beowulf barked again to relieve the awkward silence. I patted his head, then pulled myself up by his collar, just as the ambulance pulled up.
The EMTs were all over me in an instant.
"What is your name?" said the female one, while checking my pulse and my eyes and everything she could check, I guess.
"Keilah Rose Fleming, and I'm fine."
"Alright Keilah, we're going to get you to the hospital to make double sure. We're going to call your parents, okay? They will probably meet us there."
I rolled my eyes, but nodded. She held me firmly by the elbow and guided me to the waiting ambulance.
Before I could enter, though, there was a screech of tires, a terrified yell, and the EMT and I turned just in time to see a black suburban come hurtling towards the mess of cop cars, the ambulance, and Beowulf. Driver-man was trying to run, but two cops had him by the arms.
The suburban stopped just in time, almost hitting one of the cop cars. An arm reached out of the window, and, more importantly, a gun.
The blast was deafening, and the aim was true. In shock, I watched Driver-man slump over in the cops arms.
Part two will be posted on Candence's blog next Monday! Hope you enjoyed. :-) 

16 May 2015

Good Morning

I realize that at the moment that I am posting this it is already afternoon. But this poem was written at 5:30 this morning, so I think I have the right to call it "Good Morning".

Quite obviously not my photo, since 5am, in my pajamas and wrapped in my blanket with my feet stuck in the hot tub is not the ideal time for photography. Found on Pinterest.

Such a gentle sunrise.
The world wakes up and I chuckle,
For I have been up for hours.
And that poem on my heart breaks through my lips like praise.
Good morning.
The hymn of the birds has risen,
Stretching to the limits of this cathedral world
As the sun peeks through blue and green stained glass
To paint this lovely earth again.
This is why night ends, for joy,
Joy is carried along with the dawn.
Psst! I also have an announcement of epic proportions! Me and one of my bestest ever friends, the unmatched Candence Declan, are doing a bit of a blog/writing challenge! Basically, we are going to be co-writing a continuous story on our blogs. A part of this story will be posted each Monday, either on mine or Candence's blogs. The first part will be mine, so stop by on Monday for the first part! And then the following Monday, Candence will have the next part on her blog. Make sense? If it doesn't, ask Candence. She's better at words than me. :-) See you Monday!  

15 May 2015

PFYTF: Saying Goodbye

Have you ever thought about how saying goodbye most of the time means saying hello?

Tomorrow I shall say goodbye to the bursting aspens of my hometown...and say hello to the rugged, wild, and lovely fields of camp. I shall say goodbye to my family, and hello to my other family.

Now goodbye itself comes from the phrase, "God be with you." I like that. I like closing my eyes and running that around in my head.

"God be with you."

It almost makes you want to say "Amen" every time someone bids you goodbye.

"God be with you."

"So be it."

It gives me something to snicker about when words are thrown around. After all, everyone says "goodbye", and it is like they are unconsciously blessing you. It's quite nice, isn't it?

So, dear aspen tree, God be with you. Dear family, God be with you.

And hello, amazing adventure that awaits.

I'm stoked. And don't worry, the blog comes with me.

(Dude, that was hysterical, because I was just imagining like a kidnapping that happens....like the guy is sitting in an empty coffee shop on his laptop, typing away peacefully when suddenly a man in black arrives and points a gun at him and says, "Try to escape and I will blow your brains out. Stand up slowly and walk in front of me to my car." Laptop Man sighs, snaps his computer shut, and says, "The blog comes with me." Did that just completely ruin the mood of this post? Good, because it was too serious.)

(Another thing I was thinking about was how clapping can be either a congratulatory thing or it could be you high-fiving yourself. Just something to ponder.)

11 May 2015

Hope Realized

Is this hope realized?
We floundered in the ocean’s abyss of pain,
Deep in the heart of the hurricane,
Where death was a mystery of fear,
And loneliness was all that we knew.
Now the blue sky appears like an intake of breath,
Like the storm didn’t break us after all.
And oh, my soul, the leaves are still green,
And as the broken branches are cut away, we realize—
This is not loss, it is gain.
The heaviness of sorrow only taught us what is strong,
Where a sufficiency of grace planted and tended through hail and through drought,
Where something small but bright and green grew.
So perhaps this pillaging of soul is hope realized.
Perhaps what we thought we knew as an attack,
Was an answered prayer after all—
Weeds, uprooted from the soul,
Dead branches cut away, lifeless blossoms pruned.
And growth came to destroy the seedling we loved,
To take away the tender shoots,
And to replace them with something stronger—
I thought,
That my garden was dying, Great Gardener.
That my garden was dead.
But a dead tree does not sprout up again in the Spring,
This I know.
A dead tree does not sport blossoms that melt into fruit—
A dead man does not rise again for no reason.
And so, perhaps this is hope realized.
A portion of it, at least. A little piece of answered prayer,
God transform me anew, make me Yours and Yours alone,
May this broken image of You be pieced together,
And renew a right spirit within me.

08 May 2015

PFYTF: The Coming of the Storm

I wasn't quite sure on what I was going to do with this post (and frankly I'm still not terribly sure), so I grabbed the keys and went out to chase the storm that was (and is still) bearing down on us. Armed with a camera, I set off into the great unknown.

I think when we go chasing storms with cameras we expect to come back with dark, broody pictures lined with lightning or something equally extreme.

But here is what I found: These yellow fighters were bravely continuing in all of the things that they were designed to do--

Live, and live hard.

And maybe that's why I love storms, because storms seem to bring out the best of the best. It grabs you out of your comfort zone and into the wild embrace of the world, where flowers shine bright against a deep grey sky.

And Rich Mullins pops into my head at the perfect time.

So if you need me, I'll be out with the last sons of thunder as we welcome the coming of the storm. 

06 May 2015


I'm going to surprise the bloggy world and tell everyone right off the bat that this post is not about LOTR.

Now that I've got that off my chest, I also have to get something else out before I forget. Not that I actually would forget because Treskie is the Besttttt and I love her, but SHE HOLDETH A GIVEAWAY. GO LOOK SEE. The problem here is that telling you guys about this on my blog is sort of a double agent thing because I get another extra entry, but at the same time, I make my chances slimmer because all you guys know about it now and will enter. -_- ;-)

Okay. Now I'm going to slip my headphones on, turn Josh Garrel's new album, Home, up loud, and get going on this post.

Last night was my last night of Bible Study before I leave to go work at camp for the summer. Bittersweet is a good word, because I'm stoked for camp, but over the course of the four weeks I went to Bible Study, something lovely was built.

How incredible it is to simply be in the presence of a group of young people who are on fire for God, dedicating themselves to studying the Bible and to dig deeper than "mainstream Christianity" would have them.

I'm going to admit right now, it was hard for the first two weeks. Being so painfully shy, I would come home fighting tears because I was so frustrated with being a wallflower, not being able to participate in discussion because I felt like my thoughts weren't good enough or just because I was too embarrassed to talk at all. So I prayed. I prayed hard, man. I was like, "God, please change me into an extrovert." Because extroverts are the cool ones, right? They're the ones that just make you feel accepted and loved because they are good at talking and sharing their lives and all that good stuff.

You want to know what God's answer was constantly?

I love you.

Okay, thanks God, but as for what we were actually discussing....how does next Tuesday sound for you on the whole total-Hannah-makeover?

I feel like you guys can all freely quote Eilonwy here: "Are you slow-witted? I'm sorry. It must be terrible to be dull and stupid." ;-)

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
you discern my thoughts from afar.
You search out my path and my lying down
and are well-acquainted with all my ways.
Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord,
you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful to me;
it is high; I cannot attain it.
Where shall I go from your Spirit?
Or where shall I flee from your presence?
If I ascend to heaven, you are there!
If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!
If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
even there your hand shall lead me,
and your right hand shall hold me.
If I say, "Surely darkness shall cover me,
and the light about me be night,"
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light with you.
For you formed me in my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there were none of them.
 -Psalm 139:1-16
My God did not slip when He was forming me, nor did He make a mistake when He designed my personality. And He loves me.
So I take a deep breath, and I go into Bible Study as all of my introverted, shy, frightened self.
One of the lovely young ladies was there, despite the fact that I was pretty early. It was guacamole night, so I dumped my avocados on the counter, and she, beautifully a natural leader, got me to work.
Task number 1: find a juicer. We found one, an old one that looked like it had been invented in the 1800s and not used at all for at least ten years, but we were going to just go with it. So we cut our limes and I began to juice them.
It was laughable, really. The juicer was a little too big for our little limes, and it was so not user friendly. I had to hold it in my left hand while grinding the lime with my right hand, trying to keep the little contraption steadily over the measuring cup that I was juicing into. We experimented with a few things to try to make it easier--squash the limes hard before cutting them, warming them up in the microwave for a bit--but it ended up being a whole lot of limes flying out of my hands and skittering over the floor, a whole lot of lime juice on my hands and on the counter, not very much lime in the measuring cup itself,
and a whole lot of laughter.
Fellowshipping over cooking (or any sort of service) is the best ever. There is kinship in every moment of failure and triumph, there is deep love in rolled up sleeves and standing side-by-side, chopping garlic and squeezing limes.
And when that cilantro smell seeps through every corner of the church kitchen, bonding happens real quick.
This is the image of the Wedding Feast, as close as we can get on this war-torn earth.

Wondering where I might begin
I hear a voice upon the wind
She's singing faint but singing true
"Son, there ain't nothing you can do
But listen close and follow me
I'll take you where you’re meant to be
Just don't lose faith."

So I put my hand upon the plow
Wipe the sweat up from my brow
Plant the good seed along the way
As I look forward to the day
When at last I'll see
My father run to me
singing, “Oh, my child."

Come on home
Home to me
And I will hold you in my arms
And joyful be

There will always, always be
A place for you
At my table
Return to me
-from "At the Table" by Josh Garrels
And behold, this is very good. May I never lose heart, knowing that God is with me, whether I be sitting behind the computer or overcoming fears at a Bible study. He is my stronghold, the shield of my help, the sword of my triumph.

04 May 2015

Writers Write

Wow, where to even begin? The past few days have been awesome (if tiring) and even more awesome stuff is coming up. My mind is in a bit of a whirl, really. :-)

First off, on Saturday, one of my favorite artists/writers, the esteemed Andrew Peterson, came to my church to do a talk on songwriting (which obviously related to storytelling as well) and then a concert that night.

Oh, what a day that was.

I could really go on about how amazing that was, but I am trying my best not to bore you. So I'll just let Andrew speak for himself through his music--one of my favorite songs of all time, and the one he finished the concert with, and then I shall move on to the point of my post.

In fact, if you listen to that while you read the remainder of the post, it'll probably make my words seem awesome. Either that or really lame. -_- ;-)
You know, I've found that the more that I write, the harder it is. Not to scare all you wannabe writers off, but, well, it's true. Writing is a bit of a step of faith, every single time you sit down to the computer.
Andrew Peterson compared it to gardening. It's a lot of work, a lot of dirty work. And most the time it's not fun.
But writing, like a garden, bears fruit.
As we sat down at the lunch table with a girl we didn't know (this creating community thing is sometimes super hard for us introverts, but yet, so worth it) we bungled through conversation until I realized that we had connected. We were writers. True, she was a historical fiction and time travel kinda gal while I've got myself buried in a Steampunk book, but that didn't matter one bit.
She laughed at our shared, current problem of writer's block and said, "My sister keeps sending me memes about how writers are supposed to WRITE, ya know? And I just say, 'I AM GOING TO!'" I chuckled over my glass of sparkly pink liquid (not sure what it was but it was tasty) and replied, "I feel ya."
But those memes have a deep truth in their rather irritating message. Writers write. Just as gardeners garden.
Andrew said (because he says things so much better than I do), "If you want to grow weeds, do nothing."
But I don't want to grow weeds with my writing. I don't want to wrangle through a mess of untrimmed plots and choked out characters when I occasionally do sit down to write because I've caught some sort of "Spring Garden Fever" as it were.
Writers write.
Every day.
Most of it will probably be rubbish. But gardens don't bear fruit overnight. They don't even sprout in one day. You tend that tender shoot day after day, through rain and hail and big boots and children's fingers digging where they shouldn't dig, through every voice in your head that causes this terrifying unbelief that someday something tasty or beautiful will grow.
It takes daily work to cultivate our stories.
Now, this is the part of the post where I pledge that I will write every day or challenge you to do the same.......
But I am suddenly overtaken by a strange beast and am swept off to an adventure beyond imagination!
(Eh, I'm stalling this because no matter how inspired I am to be a writer, it's still hard to write and I'm also a lazy bum ;-))
But yet...
Here's to writer's writing. I know there are going to be days where I don't write. But I'm going to give it my best shot. I am going to write Beyond the Burning Sky (my current WIP) and to the best of my ability, I am going to write every day, whether it be BtBS or poetry or random observations or whatever.
But more than that, I am going to constantly turn my work over to the best Gardener of them all--for God is my stronghold, my strength, and all my words and without His grace I wouldn't be a writer at all.
Soli Deo Gloria!

01 May 2015

PFYTF: The Escape Route

I'm back with another edition of PFYTF!

Hi, I'm an introvert.

This means that though I have tried, I have not yet turned into an extrovert. The serum is not yet completed.....

My dad is an introvert too. He hates crowds, avoids people as much as possible, and, as I recently discovered,

Always looks for an escape route.

 I find this most hysterical because, now that it's spoken out loud, I realize that is precisely what I do. Whenever I'm in a room with a large group of people (particularly a large group of people I don't/hardly know), I take up the time that I'm awkwardly sitting in the corner trying not to be awkward by plotting out the exact way I shall exit.

It's especially amusing (and frightening all at once) when the room is a small one and there's only one door.

I'm gonna do a disclaimer here though.

I like people. I really do. Why else would I be a writer? People are fascinating.

And despite all appearances, I do enjoy social interactions, especially conversation.

I just have a mental block when it comes to starting one up because I'm painfully shy (it's actually quite literally painful, people).

But there is this innate instinct within me that goes,

"If I need to bolt, what's my best route here? I need to avoid as many people as possible but yet it also needs to be the quickest route I can manage."
Introverts are interesting people, I promise. We just desperately need extroverts to help us along the way.