Wednesday, August 27, 2014

A Moment for Thankfulness - a 5:11 Note

One of many blessings of attending a Christian high school was going on retreat Soon after the start of school year.  It was four days in the Prescott hills to completely focus our minds and hearts on God with in depth Biblical teaching and worship, form deeper bonds with our classmates through fun activities and get to know our teachers on a more personal level. As much as I loved everything about retreat, especially since everyone went out of their way to insure I was included (a stark contrast to my horrid two years in public jr. high), my favorite retreat traditon was giving and receiving "5:11 notes," inspired by 2 Thessalonians 5:11, which reads: "Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing."  We were given a paper lunch sack to decorate with our names before leaving for retreat. Upon arrival at camp, the teachers would stick our bags up on the back wall in the mess hall and over the course of the four days, the students would fill each other's sacks with encouragement.  It may sound like a cliché form of "prescribed kindness" to some people, but I'll be the first say that couldn't be further from the truth.  It was an incredible blessing.  I would keep the most poignant and uplifting notes close at hand all year long, to reread during my most difficult struggles.  I cherished each one.  There have been countless times since high school (especially in the last couple years of feeling miserably discouraged about my lack of career and uncertainty about my life's purpose) when I've wished I had another 5:11 bag to open and overpower the darkness.  This feeling was once most accute when I couldn't muster the stamina to write. Many said, "writing is a lonely craft; you just gotta keep at it. "  That was true for a very long time. But, over the last couple weeks something BIG has started to change.  Light is now breaking through the trees and I can see my path.  And not just my path, but also the people who will travel it with me!  Never in my life have I received such overwhelming affirmation for one idea (which I will disclose very soon) and while sleep remains scarce amid the outpouring of my mind, my stamina endures to the Glory of God. He is here. He is working in and around me.  HE IS GOOD. Thank you to my one precious friend who has stayed awake with me 'til 3am, letting her own ideas add fuel to the creative fires... there are no sufficient words for the depth of my gratitude, Dear! Thank you to the others who've seen the first puzzle pieces fit together and lovingly demand more everyday.  I'd get nothing done without you.  And lastly, thank you to the beauty with one seemingly simple, but powerful suggestion.  Meeting you was the clearest answer to prayer I've had in the last four years.
May God bless you all even more abundantly than you have blessed me.


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Preparing to Turn to a Blank Page

It was after 3am Monday morning and I could only drift on the edge of sleep because the giant pinball machine in my head was cranked up to full speed and didn't show signs of slowing anytime soon. My brain was screaming, "sleep? Who needs sleep??? Stay awake and write!" I tried. Really tried. And I failed.
I could only get down the first sentence before my neck and right shoulder were whining in pain from the awkward position in which I was laying in bed, while trying to type on my phone. I can't always stay at the computer as long as I'd like at night because it means a night of badly broken sleep for my dad.  He usually crashes on my couch to help me get in bed, etc. and then gets up before sunrise to go to a full time insurance job.  This never-ceasing battle of wills between my mind and muscles is one of my strongest contentions about being a writer with a disability – my physical limitations often severely hinder my tangible productivity at opportune times, while still depriving my mind of necessary rest (you can read my quirky illustration of this phenomenon in my 12/27/08 post entitled, "A Nightly Argument").  But, conversely, writing is also my true means of freedom. I can do anything with the right words and ink always carries my voice perfectly, with no chance of misunderstanding. Therein lies the reason I continue to endure the numerous aggravations of my obstinate muscles. What other choice do I have if truly want to be "heard" in this endlessly noisy and judgmental world?
So, what was I trying to write in the first place, you ask? Actually, I'm not entirely sure. I was just toying with some ideas for my two current projects for my next "roll in faith" and how this blog will be the link between them.  The first is the memoir people have been persistently "suggesting" I write for years. The second is one I'm not quite ready to announce yet; waiting for a certain phone call to make it official. It will come soon.
When it was time to start again, I was going to revert to the original plan, but then thought, facing my own words means clearing the first hurtle first.  Mind over muscle. It just took two days. Still, thank you, Lord, for small victories.