My Diary of Wrestling through Writing

 

Finding Joy in the Battle

 

Early April 2023:

Writing has many inspirations. It flows from life's interactions with people and experiences mixed with imagination and soul revelations. Often it is piqued by immersion in places where the grace of creation is as tangible as if you had just plunged into the deep dark, chilling pool of a high mountain stream. You are awakened to the world of pleasure and pain, colours and textures, light and shades, tastes and delights, olfactory joys and testing journeys. Your Spirit alive. Made aware. Paraclete's presence. The Shalom of providential nurture. New season's fruits. A brave knowing. Deep calling to deep. Truth's entrusted. Echoes and the Original Voice. Love that calls for the wild. Abandonment to Passion's perspective. The Greatest thing. Giving of Life.

I mentioned in my previous Christian Writers Downunder Blog post (January 2023) about the challenge of having several close family members who had received devastating cancer diagnoses. I used this reality to help punctuate my post about writers having the opportunity to provide the gift of ‘a different narrative’. 

The messages coming from the medical prognosis of our loved ones was that they were sick, very sick, and were facing significant challenges and were emotionally and physically overwhelming.

As I wrestled with all this, I wrote. In fact, I think I wrestled with all these emotions and thoughts by writing. I present here some of my wrestling for you.

19th April 2023:

Days end is a moment to pause and listen and read the signature messages of omnipresent love. A new day starts. Years are chapters in libraries full of wonder.

 

Early March 2023:

This year’s Shave for a cure was the most personal fundraising and advocacy I have been involved in . I went bald to help raise support for Cancer research. Several of my close family members and friends have experienced their own personal battles with Cancer. This has included my Mum, our daughter and my wife’s sister. It has been a challenging season. That is why I chose to shave my head this year for raising support for a cure for cancer.

 

Sometime this year:

Peace!

Our understanding is simply surpassed by the heaven-sent love actuality that establishes, grounds us, perfects us, empowers us beyond any human potentiality.

 

The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.

Philippians 4

 

 

Earlier in March 2023 :

In 2022 our daughter was diagnosed with Hodgkin's lymphoma. This is a type of cancer that affects the lymphatic system, which is part of the body's germ-fighting immune system. In Hodgkin's lymphoma, white blood cells called lymphocytes grow out of control, causing swollen lymph nodes and growths throughout the body.

…….Our daughter has undergone treatment while pregnant which has been a huge challenge. But she is amazing, responding well to treatments, and our little grand daughter was born in November. There is joy in the battle.

We are so thankful that research, treatment, care and prayer have combined for a good healthy future for our daughter.

However, with no screening programs available and no means of prevention through lifestyle changes, blood cancer continues to be Australia's hidden cancer crisis.

Every day, 53 Aussies are diagnosed with blood cancer, and 16 will lose their life.

BTW our Daughter completed her treatments last Thursday 🙂

 

 

 23rd February 2023 (Our Daughter wrote this):

“Today I had my last dose of chemo. I’ve got my next PET scan next month, which (I hope) will confirm that I’m in complete remission!

Life is full of many battles, and for me this was a big one that I know I’ll never forget.

I’m so blessed to have so many wonderful friends and family members who have been praying and caring for me and our little family over the past 7 months. And to all of the health care workers, doctors and nurses who have been going through this journey with me, I thank you for all of your support, care and positivity. You’ve made the situation that much easier to deal with.

Whatever you’re going through, whatever fight you might be fighting, keep fighting it, because coming through the battle field and knowing that you’ve won is a great feeling!”

 

It was a brave, hope-filled, prayer-like, inspiring narrative.

 

Early in February I had written:

One of the powers of Grace is that omnipotence surpasses circumstances. A simple knowing. In the most horrific of battles .....Joy.

The trick is that we simply need to be still enough to see it, hear it, know it and let this knowing spring forth. Like a seed that takes root, grows and flourishes even in what seems to be the most impossible of spaces.

 

In Mid January 2023 our Daughter was losing her hair as a result of her chemo treatment, My Mum had just undergone major and invasive surgery and I was praying, wrestling with all the internal emotions and writing…… :

When the sky displays colours that make you stop in your sandy tracks......

I want to make sure I pause long enough to not just admire the beauty, but breathe in a fresh resolve that my gratitude is constantly superceded by heaven's providential grace. Even when the going is hard, I can exhale praise through sighs, tears, groans and pain. When the frailty of our mortality is challenged, somehow there is always joy. With each sigh there can be a smile, with each smile a laugh, with each laugh a song, with each song a declarative shout that all is well in my soul.

Another breath, another truth, another day, another mercy. There are joys in our battles, we must notice them through the war haze.

Peace beyond reasoning.

 Fix our gaze on heaven's displays of light. In the darkest night we have the glow of our living, the presence of Love, the personification of justice.

Hope clings like a shawl, the warmth of sunset's awe, knowing that the morning brings the sun again to amaze our senses and show a provision beyond our littleness.

 An omniscient eternal potency of Creator's nearness and care.

 

 

In December 2022 

while I was praying for our daughter (and her husband) and their baby and my Mum in the midst of their health challenges I wrote something I would like to share with you. Something that echoes their challenges alongside the beauty of their womanhood and being “Mum":

  My protagonist, Charlotte, is a 45 year old Medical Relief worker (a character I have been developing for several years). She has been taken captive and imprisoned in a stone and tin shed for 9 months. Why? She does not know. But she is desperate to find meaning in her incarceration.

I wrote as I wrestled:

All the disparity of her captivity came upon her like a heavy wave of anxiety. In crescendos it came with a morose dolefulness, a suffocating depression. That sometimes heightened into desperation. On those days she would wake with her pulse already escalated. Her breathing rapid and shallow and sometimes she would be sweating even though the air was often cold, and she would yell and scream, sometimes she would hit the walls. On one occasion she had given in to this angst curled up foetal-like on the floor and then thrashed around like a toddler in torment.

When she had calmed herself through her tears, she tried to remember times of freedom.

The day she remembered was her birthday. The emotion she experienced was elation. It was relief. She remembered her birthday all those years ago as she sat in an aircraft cockpit beside her pilot directing his concern for where they would land. Their payload were the rescued souls of her tribal friends. Hunted. Now refugees. Seeking safety. A new space to live. Redeemed and about to remake their lives in a valley that had been purged of peoples. It lay quiet, secluded, unknown to the outside world. A space of healing and a new start for them. And she realised this was in her favour to. The flat fields of rice below were wet, very wet, sodden. Streams were full. Overflowing. The large columns of dark clouds above were pregnant with flooding offspring.

Her memory moved to years before as she breathed deeply of the smell of the wet season beginning in earnest. She was remembering walking in one of those villages. The village she would help rebuild and repopulate with new families.

 

Children ran up to her and around her. The dirt track was muddied, pot marked and slippery. The children weaved around her, carefully jumped over puddles, and eagerly called her name. Those who dared or were pushed by their jovial friends touched her fair skin. They pretended to walk like her flicking their dark locks of hair to make fun and show attention to her long blonde hair. The smallest of her new friends was pushed into her by one of the more boisterous older girls. The little girl had begun to sob until Charlotte had smiled at her, taken an ink stamp from her bag and stamped the love heart icon on her own hand. As the little one reached out her hand, she stamped her hand too. They then walked hand in hand through the village to the little girl’s hut. What ensued remained a vivid blessing to her senses.

 

The little girl's mother had met her at their hut entrance. She had reached out her hand in greeting. But to Charlotte’s surprise had bypassed the rudimentary western greeting of a handshake and had moved closer and more intimately to place her hand fully on Charlotte's lower abdomen. In her simple English the mother had spoken to Charlotte's umbilical region through her hand.

“Your womb will be blessed !”

The beautiful young mother had then seemed even more so to Charlotte. Aglow in what seemed a prophetic, mystical glow. She was a small lady. Her sinewy form showed tender nurturing softness despite the years of hard work she had accomplished already in her short life. Charlotte reasoned that she was probably her age but had already born several children herself. The mother looked lovingly into Charlotte's eyes and smiled a well-attended pretty joy that spread from her mouth to her cheeks to the creases at the corners of her eyes, from her temples to her ears, and wrinkled her graceful neck and collarbone.

“You are going to be mother to many children.” She said.

The authority she announced this statement with shook Charlotte to her core. She felt something had happened in her innermost being. It was unsettling. Almost amorous. Like she had just been touched internally.  She reasoned back then that it was a simple hormonal flush. It seemed cold and warm all at the same time. It was as if electricity had flowed into her organs. She had released a sigh back then, all those years ago when she was just a 20 something thinking how she would love a child, but one day. Maybe. 

If only she was able.

In my Christian writers post at the beginning of this year I had written :

As writers we have the opportunity to provide the gift of ‘a different narrative’ that blesses others with sustainable and engaging hope-empowerment: One about changing the world. After all, core to our faith existence is ‘good’ news.

 

 

On Good Friday this year I wrote :

Just as children reflect, grow and flourish in the love and life they receive in the nurture of their family. Just like how little Lilliana (our Grand daughter) is loved by her Mummy and Daddy, an astounding testament of poured out, sacrificial love through the battles for health to bring life. I pause today to be grateful for Saviour's love. May my life and living be an abundant testament of this Love. May my living be a shalom of established, radical, justice-bringing, humble, kindnesses. May I be like this little bundle of blessing: simply bringing joy in our lives.

 

I love telling stories of how our community and others are addressing issues, the ways being attempted to fix things, the change being made, and stories about the people being helped and helping others. The truth is, how we tell a story has the ability to either give or take power away from us, our view of reality and therefore, who we become.

 

 

On March 30th 2023 (Our Daughter shared more of her story):

 

“For those who are curious, I got my results back today from my PET Scan, and they confirm that I’m in remission!”

 

As my wife and I sat in the glow of the closing day our daughter's message washed over us like the waves caressing the rocks at the Mooloolaba Spit. 

Our  sunset walk will forever be memorialised not for the beauty of day's end , and not just the end of the battle, but that a joy-filled new season of life is assured

My response :

 "Simply so thankful. And LOVE YOU. and so thankful for and Love you ALL.

All Creation may be groaning, here in you is a JOY and Grace that is Simply an astounding testament of embracing through battles. Standing apart is never alone. Together with each of you as a family. All of us as family. Friendship enlivened to a resurrection hope. A redemption realised. A strength emboldened. Together in a war. We stand together. We would no matter what . The family of dolphins that just rose here in the sunset testify too. Kiss of Heaven. Creator's breath. Healer's touch. Saviour's love. All our love. Thankyou ."

Shalom

 

Now faith is the assurance (title deed, confirmation) of things hoped for (divinely guaranteed), and the evidence of things not seen [the conviction of their reality—faith comprehends as fact what cannot be experienced by the physical senses].

Hebrews 11:1

Un-Cramming The Year With Your Gift

Celebration is a vital part of life. It is good to do so. But…… We seem to cram this in.

The season of Christmas and New Year you have just been through might feel a bit like that for you. This time of year (the beginning of 2023) we may be feeling we need to recover from holidays. At the end of last year, you may have taken time, not just to get across the line of another year, but to appreciate all the achievements of the year that was (that’s good), and then you may have experienced a barrage of celebrations. We have parties, celebrations of cultural significance, church happenings, community events, work parties, family get togethers, neighbourhood happenings, decorating, wrapping, eating, more parties, more outings, and an encouragement to be completing the year successfully and with joy and not feel exhausted starting the next one. We many it feels like a cluttered mess. For many individuals and families this time of year may also bring back memories of loss, challenge, or it may presently be a time of struggle for them. The mantra of “Joy to the world” might have been accompanied with “Stop the world, I want to get off”.

Christmas and New Year is a punctuated season full of the giving of our time, focus and energies alongside those material gifts we buy, make, wrap, post, and give each other. At the heart of the so-called “Christmas spirit” is something potentially beautiful (despite its often-commercial hype). Giving is an act of lovingkindness, of thinking about others before ourselves. It takes time and preparation and compassion. It can be a gift of authentic appreciation. True generosity means there’s no obligation in sight. Perhaps this ideal is encapsulated in the saying: “It is more blessed to give than to receive”. In truth, many people might rather be getters than givers. But there is significant power for good in giving of ourselves (especially things that are less materialistic or consumer oriented, like hope, peace, patience, kindness, service, care, support). Perhaps equally as powerful is humble and appreciative receiving.  It can sometimes be humbling to accept a present, no strings attached. Maybe, that itself (willing to receive) is a gift. Humility is perhaps one of the most powerful gifts we can give to each other. Being humble enough to receive someone else’s gift given in grace and being willing to give our gifts in humility is a powerful offering. This means making time and space to embrace the story and the relationship that brought the gift to you. Giving is at the very core of our humanity and of our faith. It is a holy thing.

"3 Buys Men"

How has this ancient sacred act of giving-and-receiving been so often turned into something that has become so profane? Materialistic hype, rather than meaningful helps or even miraculous harmony.  Good things can easily morph into being dangerous and harmful when simple humility and the gift of relational mutuality is taken out of the equation. During the rush and intensity of the end of year celebratory season, it is hard not to let obligation corrupt our generous spirit. It is also difficult to mitigate giving-fatigue and compassion-fatigue as we’re bombarded with images of need, natural disasters, and new diseases, while being accosted with requests for our generosity from charities and those in need. Australians are trusting charities less, with concerns over how donations are spent and frustration with being pestered to give. When you hear too many heartbreaking stories without also hearing about solutions, progress, or change, the world’s problems feel unfixable. Donating to fix an unsolvable problem feels useless—that’s why demonstrating impact and providing messages of hope is so important. This is where our influence individually and collectively as writers is so valuable. We can help by giving thought to ‘changing the narratives’.  

 

As writers we have the opportunity to provide the gift of ‘a different narrative’ that blesses others with sustainable and engaging hope-empowerment: One about changing the world. After all, core to our faith existence is ‘good’ news. I love telling stories of how our community and others are addressing issues, the ways being attempted to fix things, the change being made, and stories about the people being helped and helping others. The truth is, how we tell a story has the ability to either give or take power away from us, our view of reality and therefore, who we become. For example, sickness can undoubtedly be devastating for many - whether it’s losing a loved one, not being able to see your friends and family, dealing with losing your job, having to shut down your business, or feeling isolated and lonely; and these often feel out of your control. However, the thing that you do have control over is the story you tell about those events - and how they impact your self-concept and future. Last year our family faced the challenge of having several close family members who received a devastating cancer prognosis. The authentic and real message was that they were sick, very sick and needing to face the struggles of hospital visits, life changes, chemo regimes, loosing hair, being weak, feeling depressed, hurting, and honestly just being devastated. But even more powerful is the equally authentic and real message that all the adjustment has meant that we have come closer together as a family as we have determined to fight through the challenges together. We have new language and a depth of communication that we have never had with each other. Our love for each other is deeper than ever.  Despite the struggles we have all found some joy in the battle and that is the narrative that we embrace. As we spent time at Christmas and new year, we held on to the glad tidings we had discovered through the trials of the year that was. Even in sometimes horrifying circumstances a story of hope can be found. We are glad that even though some things are still significantly tough we have found peace in discovering the simple joy of the love we share with each other. This has meant learning and acting on the craft of stopping the rush of circumstance to make time for discovering the changed narrative. The art of storytelling has a huge impact. Now that is something to celebrate.

Here is another thing to celebrate all year: God has given you your writing gifts to use for His glory. God has equipped you to reach people that may possibly not be reached by anyone else, and it is the giftings He has given to you that accomplishes it. Romans 12:6 says,

 “Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them.”

Your gifts are unique to you, and just might be the unique gift someone else needs to receive. You might even think your talent is weird and unpopular, but sometimes it is those of us who feel like we have the least to give who accomplish great things for God, and simply are a blessing to others. Your gift does make a difference.

There is a song that gets played at our place many times at the end of each year (Which is a bit ironic, as it declares that its message should be lived all year round) ‘Christmas Wish’ Written by Bob Farrell and performed by Stacie Orrico. 

“It's always the same at every Christmas
When love comes alive around the world
We open our hearts
When love is in the air
It seems such a shame to me
It's a season that comes only once a year

My wish for you
If I could give any gift I wanted
A present to every boy and girl
I'd make it a miracle that came from God above
A picture of peace on Earth
Where each person is touched by the power of (His) Love

So let's make the Christmas wish together
It's like the best of dreams come true
Let's make the spirit last forever

This is my Christmas wish for you”

This year I am encouraging myself with a new year’s resolution, to give and receive deeper and more meaningfully across the entire year. I plan to un-cram my year by making time for my gift of writing to bless others. This won’t discount enjoying the season of celebratory generosity at the end of the year (material gifts, thankyou cards, lots of time with people in celebrations, and end of year reports), or at the end of a sponsorship campaign, or after some victory, it will just mean I give better throughout the year. Through the good times and the tough, the highs and lows, giving praise reports and gratitude no matter what the circumstance. So I am going to give space and time for my gift to be developed and used and become substance to share with others. I am going to make a concerted effort to review my narratives to ensure that some good can come out of them. I am going to un-cram the year with my gift.

Our gifts of kindness - of caring, of helping, of sharing the best of ourselves, of writing and creating hope-bringing narratives - are the gifts that keep giving. Imagine the power of this aspect of celebrating showing up in unexpected spaces and times like random acts of kindnesses all year round. Imagine the gift of our writing bringing life-filled, hope-inspiring messaging for people who just need light in their darkness, love in their loss, healing in their hurt, joy in their sorrow. There are simply endless ways this could happen. Let the gifts flow.

The act of mutual generosity (giving and receiving of ourselves) points to what just might be the ultimate gift the world is hoping for in 2023 …. Peace!

 

JOY TO YOUR WORLD.