All posts filed under: Writing

5,000 Lifetimes {Can I Repay God for His Mercy?)

Dear friends, I took the summer off from writing. We played and worked at the lake. Oh, I’m so thankful. But the routine of fall is a lovely thing, like a waltz after a season of cacophony. So I’m thankful for the respite summer break provides, thankful for the family time and the space and the sunshine and I’m thankful for the falling into order that comes as the calendar turns. I’m still praying and wondering about God’s direction for me. I’ve missed interacting with you, missed the time in the Word and in words together. So although I’m still seeking direction, I’ll be here from time to time. Today’s post is all about Mercy. I’m linking up with Lisa-Jo, but I have to confess, I don’t usually stick to the five minute rule. It’s not a matter of refusing to put my words out unedited, but when I consider a passage like this one in Matthew 18, five minutes doesn’t do it justice. I want to be a bit more responsible with that. Mercy …

Stephen King and I

Like Anna and the King of Siam, Stephen King and I are really nothing alike. He’s a man, I’m a woman. Most obvious difference. He writes horror. I do not. He’s a lot older than I am. Really, he is. He’s from the East Coast, I’m a Western girl. There’s more differences than anyone’s really interested in reading about, so I’ll tell you some fascinating things we have in common. We both have corgis. We both write. Yes, I know he’s both prolific and famous. Let’s not wander into this territory. We both consider the Twilight series rather insubstantial:  “The real difference is that Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can’t write worth a darn. She’s not very good,” he told an interviewer from USA Weekend. (according to The Guardian) “Eh, I read them. Whatever,” said Alyssa Santos to this blog.  We both enjoy long-standing monogamous relationships. Although this may sound strange, I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised to read about what a family-guy Stephen really is. His wife …

Brave Not Me {an essay}

{Friends, I signed up for a memoir workshop with Tweetspeak Poetry. There are about ten brave souls taking courageous steps toward better understanding their own stories in order to share them with readers. But first, we are learning to share them with each other. It’s an online class, which eliminates the nervous in-person issues and could help us hide behind the distance of the world wide web. But, they are truth seekers and truth speakers and their bravery inspires me. Whatever your story is, there is beauty and redemption in it. The work to write our stories is hard and requires serious moxy. This little piece is dedicated to my memoir classmates. You bless me with bravery.} I was only eight. Courage was something I knew nothing about, like sex and driving cars and reading my dad’s black, leather bound Bible. Brave was not in my lunchbox or my coat-pocket. Brave was a higher branch on a tree. Higher than I ever needed to climb. Brave was taller than me. I was books. I was …

It’s Not Always Pretty, But It Is Always Good {My Story in Video}

I watched spring this morning. The robins hopped on greening grass. Goldfinch looked in the window as if to ask me, “Are you ever going to fill that feeder with thistle?” Cold blue skies, swept with light clouds promised the coming warm days. I was struck again, anew, by the beautiful reality that I can go fill the feeder, dig in the soil of my own yard, walk to the tune of birdsong. A year ago, I was recovering from a second surgery where the surgeons removed the titanium rod from my fibula and reamed a larger one through that leg-bone to aggravate my body to produce enough new bone cells to fill in the gaps between the breaks that had refused to heal. I was struck again by the miracle of the incarnation of Jesus, the decision of a limitless God to take on the form and limitations of humanity, to trade infinite power for fragility. This flesh and bone grace of the incarnation of Jesus Christ makes all other miracles, including the resurrection …

3 Things I Learned About Life From A Writer’s Conference

It is a sight to see, all those self-proclaimed introverts and book nerds chatting it up. And for this introvert, there’s a bit of a homecoming whenever I step through the doors of the Inland Northwest Christian Writer’s Conference. Honestly, it’s one of the few places that I scan the crowd for people I know (I’m usually ducking to the restroom or the drinking fountain avoiding all contact with people from my past) and I can’t wait to embrace my fellow scribes, my ecclesia of writ and converse over the topics of life and writing. 1. Do What You Love It is evident at a conference narrowed to a specific focus that people are most energized when they are working in a field that continues to impassion them and fan that ubiquitous fire within. It’s that remarkable sparking that fuels passion into creativity. Click here to tweet this Every field of work has it’s problems, and writers face a wealth of them, internal and external.