The Ghost of Christmas Past

Original artwork by Melinda Jensen

2016 has been a tough year, both here in Australia and throughout the globe. Wars and the inevitable atrocities that accompany them, are escalating. Americans too, must be feeling the winds of change acutely – some distressed by the presidential election results and others by the conflict and worldwide criticism that have ensued in the wake of their political choice. It's a situation that leaves the global community divided and fearful.

Only one thing seems certain. Emotions are high. We all tend to become further entrenched in our positions during times of high stress, desperate to either flee or fight. Fear becomes our sole motivation. Yet, at times of great turmoil it's both far more important and far more difficult to hold tight to God and follow His lead.

I have heard many stories of woe and heartache during the past year, clothed in robes of bitterness, anger, sorrow and fear. People are turning on each other, unashamedly claiming to not care about what happens to others beyond their shores, or even their own neighbourhoods. I was shocked to learn that some of my overseas friends feel this way about Australia, and therefore me and mine. Disturbingly, I have heard the harshest judgements from fellow Christians who seem to feel more than justified in turning away the needy and allowing the less fortunate to go hungry and homeless. I can only wonder at how much this grieves the Father's heart.

Enchanted by (or is it morbidly fascinated with) Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' since I was a child, I find myself ruminating about its metaphors and wondering if the world is currently 'stuck', like the bah-humbug Ebenezer Scrooge before he meets the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future.

How would most of us fare if visited by the Ghost of Christmas Past, the first eerie visitor to Scrooge's miserly hearth right before Christmas?

This angelic spirit, as I prefer to think of it, shows Scrooge scenes from his past that occurred around Christmas-time, to demonstrate the necessity of changing his ways, as well as to show the reader how Scrooge came to be so bitter and cold-hearted. The lesson here, of course, is that none of us are born this way. Life is often cruel, just as it was for the young Ebenezer, who grew up, devoid of real love in a miserable boarding school, abandoned by his father.

As the years went by, he faced many hardships of the kind almost bound to break his heart and alienate him from his fellow human beings. And yet, life is not all about circumstance.

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net/Stuart Miles

As I've entered my fifties I've realized that very few people live a charmed life, and most of us have stories of heartache that helped shape who we are. When I look around me I see those who have grown through these experiences into more compassionate and aware human beings; and of course, I see those who've hardened their hearts, determined to look out for number one and only number one.

There is always the element of choice. The ghost of Christmas past doesn't linger on a sense of blame, despite relentlessly bringing painful scenes before the hapless Scrooge. Instead, he largely allows Scrooge to relive the painful memories he's so successfully snuffed out over the years. Without bringing those memories to the fore, none of us can hope to understand why we are the way we are; nor are we able to effect personal change and lay to rest any attitudes of resentment, fear and bitterness, the very attributes that are running rampant on today's world stage.

As Christians, we don't need to believe in, or encounter, ghosts. We have our very own, accessible and willing, supernatural God, ready to lead us gently on a tour of our painful pasts and re-establish His heart within us. That heart knows no bounds when it comes to compassion, empathy, generosity, kindness and acceptance. It is tireless in taking in the world's orphans and widows, the wounded and homeless, the desperate and starving, the lonely and heartbroken. He gives no heed to the colour of our skin or what part of the world we come from, but he does care what he finds deep in our hearts. Let's not disappoint Him in the coming year. Let's pray for a world-wide epiphany, a global 'Ebenezer Scrooge aha! Moment.'

by Melinda Jensen

www.killingmesoftly.co

Melinda follows Jesus as closely as she can, learning every day. Passionate about social justice, equality, the environment and mostly, discerning and activating her purpose according to who she is in Christ. She has had a humble number of short stories and poems published, in print and on the web; and is working on a couple of short stories for young people. She kids herself she might one day be able to do her own illustrations.

My Dark Night of the Soul - Melinda Jensen

 

I'm no theological scholar but I’ve long been captivated by the writings of sixteenth century mystic, St John of the Cross. His exquisite treatise on the soul’s journey towards union with its Creator draws me in as surely as the moon draws the tides.

Many argue that humankind’s greatest spiritual challenge is aligning the will with that of the Great I Am, a striving depicted by St John of the Cross in his ‘Dark Night of the Soul’.  This spiritual struggle involves a depth of despair many modern Christians prefer to ignore, lest it threaten their comfortable existences. They prefer, instead, to instruct their careworn brethren to hand everything to God and wait for their lives to ‘work out.’ Proper faith, sufficient repentance and an uncanny knack for knowing exactly what’s in the mind of the Creator, they say, lead us unerringly to abundant living.

I disagree. There are Christians whose lives appear to be charmed; they enter their middle years with secure marriages, fat bank accounts and the freedom to travel, invest, and indulge their whims to their healthy heart’s content. I cannot be counted among their number.

For decades I blamed myself for my lack – for not ‘hearing’ God correctly despite dedication to His Word. I sought pastoral counseling, prayer warriors, Christian literature and of course, scripture itself. My first thoughts, before opening my eyes each morning, have long been directed to my Father, and before those eyes open I ask Him to direct my steps.

It has not, nor has it ever, prevented any injustice, illness or abuse from infiltrating my being.

A brief synopsis of my adult experience includes sexual abuse, abandonment by my children’s father, single parenting without support and, twenty years ago, contracting a debilitating, life-limiting illness that remains with me today. I’ve also suffered verbal and emotional abuse at the hands of an intimate partner, abuse so sadistic that my psychologist describes it as a spiritual crime. I am left now, to face my golden years in poverty and pain.

But don’t grab the tissue box just yet because, frankly, I feel great.

And that, is surely the abundant life scripture promises. Christ came so that we might have life, and have it abundantly. Money is dead. Possessions are dead. Only the human spirit is truly alive.

The breakdown of my marriage, which lasted from 2011 until 2013, heralded my spiritual turning point.

From the outset, I laid my pain before God, never doubting He was ‘for’ marriage and ‘against’ divorce. I trusted Him to guide me towards reconciliation. I repented of every mistake and mis-communication. I begged for guidance and wisdom, and followed His leading to the best of my ability. Honesty and authenticity were integral to my actions. Deceit and manipulation seemed integral to the other party, a man I believed once loved me. I was absolutely certain the Truth would set me free; the Truth would out; the Truth would bring justice to bear.

It did not.

I raged. I told God I was through with Him. I called Him a flawed, gnostic demi-god and accused Him of abandonment. In a logical, worldly sense, He did abandon me. Decades of devotion had led me to naught. Liars and manipulators, I concluded, were the real winners in life. I was nothing but a mug. I dug my heels in and resolutely refused to give God another moment of my time. After all, how much worse could things get?

Weeks slid by. Nothing got worse. Nothing got better.

I wasn't grieving exactly, nor genuinely depressed. Just…empty. Lonely. Terribly lonely. Unfulfilled. Inspiration and creativity deserted me. I was cold. I had no compass for my life’s direction. Life became interminable nothingness.

This…was my dark night.

All the success in the world would never bring light to my soul.

I began, tentatively, to test the waters. Are you still there God? Like a small child, I clung to The Lord’s Prayer, saying it over and over. It was a divine anxiolytic, and from those small steps, I came back to the foot of the Cross.

And so I do not believe in a prosperity gospel; rather, that the treasures God gives us can't be measured by outer circumstances.

I am grateful for my dark night, and yet…a little fearful too. According to St John, there may be more dark nights to come. I hope I recognize them.

 Mother and grandmother, writer concerned with social justice, equality for all; environmentalist who believes we are stewards of the earth, not controllers; follower of Jesus who prefers to think of herself as a Christianarchist.

Investment Opportunity, May Require Some Effort

It's taken a while, but I believe that I am finally growing up. Really, I mean it! You see, I have come to realise the importance of investing. Not just financially, but in so many different areas; health, knowledge, and especially in regards to keeping my house tidy!

Why is this a sign that I am perhaps reaching some semblance of maturity? Because for many years I have thought that things other than a wholehearted investment of my own time and/or money and/or prayer would see me achieve what God has in store for me. Actually, to see that written down makes me cringe; it's such an obvious concept, and not really a hard one to 'get.'  I believe that this lack of wisdom in my own understanding has contributed to many of my "half-begun" projects, (note, they are not even half-finished! Most have barely an introduction before I have thrown my hands up in resignation).

I have so many good ideas, but none that have really come to fruition. Oh believe me, I've got a plethora of people or things to blame for that! Sadly, not once did I seriously consider that I might be my own worst enemy when it came to success.

Now, I am attempting to take a few small areas of my life and become accountable for them.

Healthwise, I have recently been given a diagnosis of Type 2 Diabetes. Rather than getting cross with God, or my hubby, or lamenting my horrible existence without chocolate . . . oh wait, scratch that last one . . . I jest, but in all honesty this has been a massive wake up call for me. It has made me want to take control of my health, to look at what I'm eating, and why. And above all it has forced me to acknowledge that, firstly I was not honouring God with my lifestyle choices, and secondly, that if I didn't invest in this area of me, then I could be taking something so very valuable away from my kids far too early. Excellent investment, Helen! Well done me! (As an aside, since learning of this I have lost about 13 kg and feel amazing, but that's another story).

As for my writing, I have really struggled in the past 6 months. I have blamed so many different things; emotional dealings, the kids, lack of inspiration, among others. But I was missing the key truth; the only thing stopping me from writing was my choice to play Candy Crush and not write! I know we all need some down time, but I was avoiding the very thing I loved because I couldn't see the benefit of the investment of my time. It's hard work pulling something together; I'm sure many reading this blog can relate to that. But the rewards are so amazing, seeing people's lives changed by something we have written is the best feeling. And this feedback provides the momentus for me to reinvest, again and again and again.

Yes, investing part of ourselves into something else can be somewhat painful, because the cost can be so high. Right now, for example, it's 1.54am and I'm just finishing my blog post which I forgot about (oh dear). It was so tempting to simply write an apology and provide a quick link to an older story or devotion I'd written; but I knew that that was a cheap way out, and that you are all worthy of a much higher investment than that, (and I really hope this has made sense; things are getting a little blurry now!).

Ultimately, I want to live my life in a way that pleases my Lord Jesus Christ, whose investment on the cross was so much more than I can ever repay. And I know that the best bit is that with every investment I make for him, he will bless my socks off at the same time! It just doesn't get any better than that!

I wonder, what do you invest yourself into? I'd love to hear your spiritual/physical/practical examples!

Blessings,

Helen

Readers are like Pickled Onions

That's us, everyone. Pickled onions. Writers and blog-visitors alike are also readers. I'm sure many of us have been avid readers since our childhood. The longer we've been reading, the more pickled we are. Let me explain the analogy in more detail.

You peel your raw onions and soak them in a delicious, briny solution that you've made up with yummy ingredients such as vinegar and brown sugar. Eventually, a chemical reaction takes place. The onions you take out are nothing like the hard onions you put in. They are soft enough to bite chunks straight out of in a way you'd never manage with the original raw onions. Some people think they are a delicious treat. Whether you like them or not, one thing is clear. They can never go back to being the same hard, raw onion they started as. They've been changed to the core.

Books are like the delicious brine and readers are like the onions. We get to soak in stories, biographies, reflections, inspired thoughts and knowledge. These are the ingredients that make up the brine. We come out better and different. We're spicier people with softer hearts. We can have more interesting conversations. We're more creative than we would have been, more clued-up about the world, more empathetic, less inclined to be self-focused.

From the time we were young, the brine has been working its special chemical reaction on us. We get to wonder, 'Would I have succombed to the White Witch's turkish delight if I had been Edmund?' We see Milly Molly Mandy living with all her relatives in that thatched roof cottage, loving their simple lifestyles even though they had hardly any money. Like Beauty, we grow to understand the Beast's many great qualities, fall for him too, and realise that judgment based on first impressions is limited. We follow the whole process of the work on Marilla Cuthbert's heart until she decides to keep Anne at Green Gables. And how could Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy end up together after the bad start they had?

We're pickled onions, and we wouldn't have it any other way. We have softer hearts. We've been given insight into human nature which makes us more understanding than we might otherwise have been. We're simply nicer people, based on our reading history. And those of us who are also writers have the fun of making up our own special brine recipes to help pickle more onions.

Paula Vince is a novelist and homeschooling mother who lives in South Australia's beautiful Adelaide Hills. Some of her contemporary adventure romances have won awards. She has loved soaking in the brine of wonderful books since her childhood, and her aim is always to pay it forward. Visit her at www.paulavince.com or www.justoccurred.blogspot.com

Burning Beliefs

The following question is one I saw posed as part of suggested writing tips;

Why must you tell this story in particular? What’s the belief burning within you that your story feeds off?

This appeals to me because I immediately identify with the idea of writing that is motivated by the desire to provoke readers to be challenged to grow.  The stories I want to tell are based on my belief that life is a journey of learning, that life has a purpose which is beyond ourselves, and that it is often from reflecting on our own struggles and challenges, or the lives of others who have wrestled with life’s issues, that we learn our best life lessons, and come to understand what real love is, and what real life is all about.

 

 



I think this is so true!

 

Yet I’m reminded by Meredith Resce’s provocative post on Facebook, questioning the value and pitfalls of writing romance stories. In spite of so much acknowledgement that romance can have a misleading and shallow focus, and perhaps even be counterproductive for Christian writers, that romance and love are quite different concepts, still it seems that so many readers – Christian and non-Christian - want to lose themselves in a romance, with prince charming, the excitement of the pursuit, and the happily ever after ending.

I was warned when I began to write that if I wanted to sell books, I’d need to write romance novels; if I wanted to write historical fiction, it would need to be romance, couched in historical settings. The feedback I get about my novels supports this notion, but I still find it frustrating.

I’ve also come across many Christians who will not read novels at all. They are only interested in devotional material and don’t see the value of reading anything which they see as ‘fiction’. Of course, that is their choice and it may be a safe path to stick to the scriptures and purely devotional material. For all of us there’s a place for this kind of reading in our lives.

For others reading may be mainly an escape from reality; a way to relax, or enjoy the distraction of imagining a life on earth that is ideal, romantic and happily ever after. I suppose that’s also a valid motivation for reading.

Then there are those who love other genres; fantasy, mystery, historical, and no doubt there are plenty of readers who like to learn from novels, who like to be challenged to grow in their spiritual, emotional and relational lives, regardless of their preferred genre.
 

There is also the question of writing for Christians or non-Christians. How do we draw non-Christians to our work in order to influence their thinking, and yet maintain our Christian values in the way we write? If we can't do this, are we simply preaching to the converted?
 

What a challenge we have as writers! We certainly can’t address all these issues in any one story. We’ll never please everyone, or be every reader’s favourite writer.

So I’m drawn back to the original question:

Why must you tell this story in particular? What’s the belief burning within you that your story feeds off?





 

See Carol's websites for more on her historical novels (real life with a little romance thrown in)

www.carolpreston.com.au

www.amazon.com/author/carolpreston

www.facebook.com/writingtoreach