Growing a Testimony

I have a background in Environmental Science.

I topped my high school senior class in Geography, graded well with Biology, have a love for nature, enjoy gardening and bushwalking, and had aspirations to work in National Parks and Wildlife. After four years of university studies in Ecology, Geomorphology, Land use Planning, Human Ecosystems, Sociology, Health and Development etc I graduated.  6 months ‘post Bachelor’ as a newly-wed requiring secure employment there was only one potential offer of work in my field. Waste-water testing at sewage outfalls. Checking levels of faecal matter in our creek.

There was nothing intrinsically wrong with potentially taking this position. In fact, it had incredible opportunity to help, considering the health merits to our ecosystem, but also the fact that we enjoyed swimming in the creek below the area being tested was of personal benefit too. Others work in this industry and find it a rewarding vocation. But it seemed to me that my vision for noble, world changing influence to save our planet had been reduced to effluence.  Sure, I had the necessary skills; It would have meant the chance to work outdoors and expand into other work areas, but thinking about all the chemical testing, logging of data, and the reality check on where we went swimming made me anxious. I thought my job prospect stank. Literally.

Perhaps at the beginning of this year you feel the same. What dreams and aspirations you have -however grand or basic- are quickly being subsumed by lived realities. Maybe even having to continue to grapple with old patterns, people stresses, and practicalities that have rolled-over from 2018 are leaving you with less than pleasant aromas. I have learnt that there is always hope. Often things are seasonal. But also, that in each season there is different fruitfulness to be aware of. Perhaps more importantly is to be aware of how to turn unwanted matter into useable material to grow from.

 It may sound over spiritual, but (back when I was about to take on the effluent testing job) I also had a sense that something significant to my life journey was about to occur. Because of my youth work, anthropological insights and cultural interests, I had also reasoned that any job would involve people engagement. I was available to whatever lesson was to be gleaned in this looming season of waste management. But I was also alert to God’s leading. We prayed -not just to get the answer we were after- but to hear how God was going to make it all work out, so we could line up with His heart in the matter.

 On the eve of needing to accept what I deemed was the odorous option for employment, another job was afforded to me. It had less pay, less hours, wasn’t directly in line with my background, but it was working with people in a school environment. I took it and have had fulfilling, purposeful influential work in educational settings ever since.

Has my environmental background been a waste? No. I have used all the skills and loves of my training in settings incredibly diverse and in creative ways that I naturally may not have contemplated. This occurred firstly in that first school posting. I not only honed my skills copying and stapling, organising class room resources, and the usual teacher-aide duties, I was given the opportunity to work alongside our principal and physical education district staff to create and write immersive Environmental Education programs for our school and regional cluster. Since that time, I have utilised other talents intrinsic to my undergrad including (not limited to) outdoors experiential learning opportunities for people of all ages, the expanding Cross-Cultural supports in local and international communities, influence in planning and development in settings requiring creative solutions. My pastoral work within churches has also been reflective of all these practices giving me community wide influence into matters of local development, council and the issues of young people.   This has also meant plenty of writing. Programs. Proposals. Plans. Scripts. Lesson evaluations. Reports. News articles. Press releases. Magazine production. Blogs. The experiences and engagement with all the diverse personalities and settings has given me a valued depth to my fictional writing too. Characters have developed, circumstances framed and deepened by my very own depth of experiences.

I continue to work in educational settings utilising those practical gifts of my environmental love and training. I am a trainer assessor. For 24 years I have been a Chaplain in schools and universities. I serve in cross cultural contexts every day; immerse into indigenous and international communities each year. I get to help develop, facilitate and learn in human and natural environments. And I am writing about it all.

Excuse the continued cliché, but I guess I have learnt to turn something that may have initially been seen as excrement into fertiliser. To turn dirt and waste into soil that helps things grow takes time, effort, patience, work, and the initial ingredients that may at first be repugnant into rich, fertile ground. Often bad situations, difficult proposals, challenging people, simply provide the basis for material for us to utilise to turn into the substance that helps us grow.

My prayer is that through my writing that it would help others grow too.

My hope is that you too will have a fruitful future, as you recognise the season and turn the unwanted egesta into a compost that helps grow beautiful things. 

Fifteen Great Picks from 2018

Each week on Mondays and Thursdays, someone from our faithful CWD blog team uploads a blogpost - sometimes it's inspirational, sometimes a story of writerly struggles or triumphs; sometimes it's funny, other times it's serious or both; sometimes the post reminds us why we write and for who, other times it gives practical tips - on writing, marketing or getting published. And sometimes, it's a member interview or a cross-post with ACE exploring genre. Always, it's the result of thought, research, experience, passion, creativity.

The CWD Admin team would like to give our blogteam a huge thank you for your contributions throughout 2018 (and over the years) and to all our readers who have taken the time to comment and interact with our bloggers.

As we start the new year, we thought we'd honour our bloggers' contributions with a pick of 15 blogposts that have inspired us in 2018. Out of over 100 posts, it wasn't easy to choose and there are many other posts equally deserving of notice. We have a wealth of information and inspiration on the blogsite - accessible on multiple subjects and themes.

We hope you enjoy this selection from a rich smorgasbord of offerings.

1. Clutterbust into the New Year by Ruth Bonetti

Do you embrace or resist making resolutions as you pass that annual threshold? My goal is to declutter. Not just the old year, but past decades.


It's not easy. Mess with closets and mere muddles inflate into chaos.
Breathe. Do it. Breathe.
Believe that beyond the pain threshold lies freedom, lightness of being. 

Read more here. 

2. How to Write Awesome Dialogue for Your Film by Charis Joy Jackson 

Today, I thought it might be fun to give all our CWD followers a bit of advice on how to write for film.


When it comes to knowing how to make movies, screenwriters should pay special attention to the dialogue they use for their characters. When it’s good, people don’t notice, but when it’s bad even your gran can tell.


You don’t want this.


I don’t want this.



So how do we write awesome dialogue?


There’s no magical formula -- creativity needs to breathe -- but I do think there are a few tools that can help you. Here are a few things I’ve found in creating awesome and strong dialogue.

Read more here.

3. Total Wipeout or Total Write it Out by Mazzy Adams  

About a decade ago, the first Wipeout game show aired in the USA. Contestants threw and bounced themselves into, around, across, over and through an absurd array of obstacles, mud, more obstacles, mud, creative obstacles, water, (washing off the mud), challenging obstacles, watery downpours … anyway, you get the picture. Total Wipeout, the British (BBC) version, followed hot on its heels, eventually airing in Australia (and currently repeating on ABC ME).

 ... 

 Over the last twelve months, I’ve been whacked and dumped and drowned by a plethora of challenges and disappointments that have seriously undermined my writing progress. I’m sure I’m not the only one. But a couple of weeks ago, the Holy Spirit challenged me with this thought:

Read more here.

4. Story Telling in 3 D by Debbie Roome 

Those who know me well will be familiar with my love of travel. This dates back a few decades but recently has become a way of life. I’ll never forget the day that travelling changed from a postcard view to something more tangible. And no, it wasn’t the day I first climbed into an aeroplane or travelled to a foreign land. I had seen many glossy brochures of London and Europe and could recognise Big Ben, the Eiffel Tower and the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but it was a flat and one- dimensional view.

Read more here.

5. I Need a Personal Bubble for my Writing Space by K A Hart 

A distraction-free writing space. Does anyone have one? I have lived in this house for four years and I still haven’t found the right spot.


Somewhere that’s comfortable, but not too comfortable. A place with a view or inspirational pictures and famous quotes. Coffee, tea, a few snacks. Music. No music. A clean space, clutter-free. That’s what most writers suggest.


So. Writing space. Where have I made my writing space? Where have I not?!

Read more here.  

6. Confessions of a Genre Butterfly by Susan J Bruce  

The author platform. Do these words fill you with confidence? Do you say ‘I know who I am as an author and I know who I want to reach? I know what my brand is?'


Or do you think, ‘Eerk!’


Earlier this year I realised that as I belonged to the second category, I really should do something about it.

Read more here.

7. Legacy and Eternity by Elaine Fraser  

Through the mere act of creating something—anything—you might inadvertently produce work that is magnificent, eternal, or important. Elizabeth Gilbert

We don’t always set out to create something as a legacy or for eternal meaning. Creating comes out of who we are on a daily basis, even when we’re not aware of it. When we create, make or design something and release it to the world (or maybe just to our family), when it’s released, the effect it has on others is out of our control. We’ve let it go.

Read more here.

8. Finding Direction by Josephine-Anne Griffiths  

‘Sometimes to move forward in life we need to turn around.
It does not mean we wasted our time –
We just didn’t know then what we know now.’

I’ve talked about the busyness of life before, but what if we are busy accomplishing nothing? That is how I have felt the past twelve to eighteen months.

Read more here.

9. Rights and Responsibilities of a Christian Writer by Melinda Jensen 

Being a Christian writer is clearly not for the fainthearted. We have the right, of course, as human beings, to churn out whatever inspiration comes our way. That’s what so many writers are all about, after all, isn’t it? Freedom of speech? Freedom of the press? Creative license?


As Christians though, our rights are coupled with a weighty responsibility. We are to be ‘in’ this world but not ‘of’ it.

Read more here.

10.  Waiting by Jeanette O'Hagan 

In my latest release, Stone of the Sea, one of the characters thinks, 

Waiting was all they seemed to do these days. Wait for food. Wait for to learn their fate. Wait for Baba to return and take back the realm.

Sometimes being a writer can feel like that - waiting to finish a novel, waiting for feedback, waiting to hear back from agents and publishers, waiting to be published, waiting for sales, waiting for reviews, waiting for traction in the market, waiting for... it doesn't seem to end.

Read more here.

11. Posing Questions by Adam David Collings 

Christian fiction has often been accused of being preachy. Sometimes justifiably so. We’ve all read books like that. These are the types of books that go out of their way to preach a message that pulls you out of the story. In fairness, it’s not just Christian fiction that suffers from this problem. One of the early chapters of the novel Ready Player One (which I loved) interrupted one of the early chapters for an extended tirade against religion, although the author balanced this by introducing a sympathetic minor character who was a Christian.

And yet, the best books are often those that delve into a topic or theme, and explore it. This gives a story depth. So how do you explore an important theme in a story without it feeling “preachy”?

Read more here.

12. Practice Makes Perfect by Nola Passmore 

I got my first guitar when I was seven, and I couldn’t wait to play like Keith and Bruce. Not Keith Richards and Bruce Springsteen. I’m talking about those spunk muffins of the sixties—Keith Potger and Bruce Woodley. Together with Judith Durham and Athol Guy, they formed the fab folkie foursome The Seekers. I was sure it would only take a few lessons and I’d be singing and playing along like my favourite group. It didn’t quite work out that way.


In the first lesson, my music teacher gave me a crash course in theory, taught me the notes on two strings, and sent me home with some exercises to practise.

Read more here.

  

13. Pillow Talk by Adele Jones

This is not the blog I was preparing for today. I was going to bring my vulnerability and talk to some of those doubts we writers can wrestle. Instead, as I was reflecting on the content of my post, the wise words of a friend came to me: “Get some sleep before you make a decision on that.”

(You would be surprised how closely related my decision and the content of my blog were.)

It occurred to me that my greatest challenge recently has not been self-doubt, but sleep deprivation. Given my constant nemesis doesn’t appear to be going away, I thought I’d share some advice frequently dispensed by my also wise husband. Maybe we can all learn a thing or two about sleep hygiene while we’re at it. Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be the only writer out there in need of some reminders!

Read more here.

14. Your Lights are On by Anusha Atukorala  

When I reached my car, my eyes opened wide in surprise. A lady walking past called out to me ‘Your Lights are On.’ What? How come? As a new driver, I had already done that. Twice. It had of course led to a dead battery each time and a call for roadside assistance. So ever since, I have had Obsessive Compulsive Disorder whenever I leave my car. I check if the lights are off not once but three or four times. I make certain all four doors are locked. I walk around my car ensuring all is well.


How had I left my lights on? Perhaps my rumbling stomach had a lot to answer for?

Read more here. 

15. Why Didn't God Book a Room for His Son? by Jo Wanmer 

Why didn’t the Father book a room for His son? He wasn’t taken by surprise the day Jesus entered the world. He could have organised somewhere…after all He is God.


‘No room in the inn’ seems a poor excuse. Jesus’ Father could have booked weeks earlier. God can orchestrate these things. A few years ago, we decided on Tuesday to go away for the weekend. It was Easter. So two days before we left, I searched for a quiet place to rest and recover. I found a lovely cottage–overlooking a river valley, less than two hours away. When we arrived it was the perfect place for us. We asked the hosts why it was still available. They shrugged, puzzled themselves. They’d been booked solid nearly all year - except Easter!


If God could organise a room for me, why didn’t He do the same, if not for his Son, then for Mary. A young girl still a virgin untouched and inexperienced in the realities of women’s struggles. She had to labour on the floor of a barn.

Read more here.

Thanks to our bloggers for taking the time to share their wisdom, experiences and inspiration with us. I'm looking forward to new blogs for 2019. Aren't you?

----

Coming in March - Omega Writers Book Fair 

CWD Highlights October-December 2018

Christian Writers Downunder is a diverse group of writers, editors, bloggers, illustrators. As a group we support each other through our facebook page and blog.

Today's blog will highlight some of the achievements of our members from October to December 2018

Awards

CALEB

The CALEB award winners were announced at the end of October, including some of CWD members. Congratulations to the winners. 

Carolyn Miller (Fiction, for The Ellusive Miss Ellison)
Jen Gibbs (Non-fiction, for She)
Penny Reeve (Children’s, for Camp Max)
Susan J Bruce (Unpublished Fiction)

Carolyn Miller - overall runner-up
Penny Reeve - overall winner of CALEB award.

Jeanette Grant-Thomson

Jeanette's short story 'My Friend Peter' won a runner-up prize in Stories of Life and is published in Three Dummies in a Dinghy anthology (Morning Star Publishers, November 29th 2018)

The competition is sponsored by Tabor College, Eternity Matters and Lutheran Schools Association and a cash prize is given to each runner-up.

Jeanette's short story if the story of a long-term friendship, written with past tense (Peter as a vibrant, faith-filled young man) interwoven with present tense ( Peter has Parkinson's disease).

Jeanette have been writing most of her life. She is a published author of numerous books and a teacher living in the Moreton area north of Brisbane.

Three Dummies in a Dinghy is available from Morning Star Publishers here.

Submissions Accepted

R J Rodda has a story accepted in the recently published The Crux anthology

New Releases

Stone of the Sea

At the end of October Jeanette O'Hagan released Stone of the Sea, novella 3 of the Under the Mountain series.

The Crystal Heart may be saved, but the people under the mountain are running out of food, while strife and disaster bubble beneath the surface, Zadeki and the twins must make hard choices and face new dangers to save the underground realm.

Stone of the Sea (published By the Light Books, Oct 2018) is available here.   The first two novellas Heart of the Mountain & Blood Crystal are available for 99cUSD (about $1.50 AUD) until the end of December 2018

Jeanette loves writing fantasy and sci-fi in the world of Nardva. She has published one novel, three novellas (in the Under the Mountain series) and a collection of short stories. 

Clash of Faiths

Sustan Preston has published her third novella in the spin-off series from her Apostle John Series. The ‘series’ follows ‘Old Simon’s’ family members.

Clash of Faiths is the third in the series, and as the title says – there is a ‘clash of faiths’ when Judah, is reunited with his father after he returns from Egypt and becomes curious about the faith of the followers of the Way. Heretics!

The novella is $2.99 US and can be purchased here.

It was published on Amazon in October, 2018 and Susan plan to finish a fourth novella completing the series next year.

If they could Talk

If They Could Talk is a collection of stories from a local Adelaide writing group, Literati, and edited by Susan J Bruce.  Each story is a bible story told by an animal.   Released by Morning Star Publishers on 29th November, you can purchase a copy here.

Hell on the Doorstep

Hell on the Doorstep by John and Jan Graham and Meredith Resce was released by Golden Grain Publishing in October. 

Hell on the Doorstep is a a nonfiction story, a semi biographical story by church workers, John and Jan Graham who in the thick of the Black Saturday Bushfires, found themselves in charge of the major relief effort. It's available at Koorong and other stores.

Other News

Omega Writers Book Fair (Brisbane)

Planning for the Omega Writers Book Fair in 2019 continues. Please note the date change to Saturday 16 March 2018

We are excited to have Healing History workshop presented by Anne Hamilton and Writing Life Stories by Ruth Bonetti.  To keep up to date with developments, like the Omega Writers Book Fair page here. 

And save the date Saturday, 16 March 2019

Toowoomba Writers Retreat (Toowoomba)

The Toowoomba Writers Retreat is on again in  from 7-9 June 2019. 

The keynote speaker will be the fabulous Jo-Anne Berthelsen. She'll do two sessions relevant to fiction and non-fiction writers. There will be an Indie Publishing Panel; and lots of free time for writing, networking, brainstorming and soaking up the beautiful surrounds. So pop it in your calendars now. More info to come in the New Year.

Congratulations to all our members for your milestones and achievements in 2018. Wishing you a wonderful Christmas time and a blessed and happy New Year.

Why didn't God book a room for His son? Thoughts by Jo Wanmer

Why didn’t the Father book a room for His son? He wasn’t taken by surprise the day Jesus entered the world. He could have organised somewhere…after all He is God.
(Image from FreePik)

‘No room in the inn’ seems a poor excuse. Jesus’ Father could have booked weeks earlier. God can orchestrate these things.  A few years ago, we decided on Tuesday to go away for the weekend. It was Easter. So two days before we left, I searched for a quiet place to rest and recover. I found a lovely cottage–overlooking a river valley, less than two hours away. When we arrived it was the perfect place for us. We asked the hosts why it was still available. They shrugged, puzzled themselves. They’d been booked solid nearly all year - except Easter!

If God could organise a room for me, why didn’t He do the same, if not for his Son, then for Mary. A young girl still a virgin untouched and inexperienced in the realities of women’s struggles. She had to labour on the floor of a barn.

But maybe the stable was not a mistake or an oversight.

Could it have been God’s idea? 

The rest of Jesus’ life seemed to follow a plan.  The clue is in the angel’s message to the shepherds.

“For today in Bethlehem a rescuer was born for you. He is Lord Yahweh, The Messiah. You will recognise him by this miracle sign: You will find a baby wrapped in strips of cloth and lying in a feeding trough!” Luke 2:11-12 The Passion Translation.

It’s a miracle, not a mistake, that the baby lay in a feeding trough, wrapped in strips of cloth. The Bible footnotes led me to search further. (Image from Public Domain)

It wasn’t just any shepherds the angels appeared to. They were shepherd priests – men charged with watching over the lambs bred especially for sacrifice. Scholars believe the Bethlehem shepherds were caring for the lambs being prepared for Passover. Every sacrifice had to be presented spotless, without blemish. When they were born, the shepherds wrapped their bodies and legs in strips of cloth and laid them in feeding troughs. This protected them until they steady on their feet.

How Amazing! Jesus, the Lamb of God, destined to be offered for your sin and mine at the festival of Passover, was born in the same place and treated the same way as a Passover Lamb. 

The Word tells us Jesus fulfilled every bit of the law…even to being born in like manner to the lambs for hundreds of years before Him.

Jesus’ Father, God, made sure there was no room at the inn, just as He ensured Joseph would have to take Mary to Bethlehem. 

Thirty-three years later the man, Jesus, would ride into to Jerusalem on a donkey, thus fulfilling many Scriptures. On the same day, the shepherds would have been herding their sheep into Jerusalem. Each Hebrew family selected a lamb and took it home to care for it until they were sacrificed, in accordance with Moses instructions. That sacrifice happened five days later, in the temple in Jerusalem, at the same time Jesus, our Passover lamb, hung on the cross; dying so the world might live.

Our Heavenly Father is a father of details. Mary, like us, may not have understood why her miracle baby was laid in a manger but her baby’s Father knew what He was doing! That’s why He didn’t have a room waiting.

Mary trusted. Can we too trust God when we don’t understand? Can we trust God to orchestrate the plots in our stories, to bring out every tiny detail? Bring the document alive? I believe we can! Do you?

May you have a happy and blessed day as you celebrate the miracle of our Saviour’s birth.

Jo Wanmer lives in Brisbane, Qld with her Husband Steve. Together they run a business and help pastor Access Church at Burpengary. Her first book, Though the Bud be Bruised, won a Caleb award for best Unpublished Manuscript and was published in 2012. Three more books are  written, but not yet published. Due to health and family matters, Jo hasn’t written for the last two years. Please pray that she can find her keyboard again in 2019.

When I've lost my vision

By Jenny Glazebrook

Do you have a personal vision for your writing?

The dictionary definition of vision is ‘the faculty of being able to see.’ 

Or in the way I mean it, ‘the ability to think about or plan the future with imagination and wisdom.’ 

Synonyms are: imagination, creativity, inventiveness, inspiration, intuition, perception, foresight, insight, discernment …

Perfect words for us writers.

I believe its worth each of us thinking through what our personal, God-given vision is, so that when the way isn’t clear or we become distracted, we can come back to it.

I met with some board members in a school last week to discuss their official vision. I had been invited in after I questioned a couple of words which made all the difference to the meaning. As a writer, I believe in the power of words and understand that meaning can be changed with just a slight twist or change.

Ironic, that only a few days earlier, I had lost my personal vision for writing in that same building; when I realised that due to his health, my son needed to complete his HSC over two years; that the full fee scholarship he’d received the year before was the only reason we had been able to afford to have him attend as well as have spare money for my writing ventures. My son needs to go to this particular school for many reasons. God made it clear this is where we should send him.

My family with Bindi Irwin last year

When the staff member in charge of finance looked at our budget, I acknowledged I could take the money we set aside for writing ministry and use it to pay fees. But a part of me broke as a dream began to die. Of course my son’s health and well-being come first. I long for him to reach his potential and I always vowed I would not allow any other ministry to come before the ministry of caring for these amazing children God has given me. That is why we named our third child Clarity. We had been in full time ministry at the time and it was costing our family their health. It was at that point God made it clear to us that our priority was the ministry to our children. We realised it with clarity and it became our vision; God’s vision and purpose for us in that season of our lives.

For the first few days after my meeting with the school last week, my writing vision was blurred by tears. It appeared I needed to let go of my dream. I couldn’t see a way ahead. It all looked impossible, even with my active imagination. Road blocks at every point. I was recently released from my contract with a publisher when their circumstances changed. And I couldn’t bring myself to tone down the heart of my stories to fit in with the requirements of other Australian publishers. I also can’t bring myself to Americanise them. Self-publishing looked like the right way to go.

When we had the finances available to do it.

Now I’ve been forced to think about my writing vision. Is it in line with God’s vision?

If I were to put my vision into words, it would be,
‘To use my talents in writing, along with the gift of creativity and discernment God has given me, to produce stories which challenge people into a closer walk with Jesus and give them a taste of the joy and purpose we have when we learn to live for Him in this broken world.’
Or something along those lines, anyway.

But if I look at it, it doesn’t have to be in the form of a printed book. Maybe its time to go back to the basics. Go back to printed out manuscripts. Maybe only produce eBooks.

Or maybe its time to stop trying to presume I know how God will carry out His plan and manipulate things in line with what I think He wants. It’s time instead to let Him take me where He will, one step at a time. Any wisdom, foresight or inspiration we have comes directly from Him. He knows the future, He has the means to bring about miracles, He is the reason I am writing in the first place.

As I sought God, He renewed my hope. An elderly lady who knew nothing of what was going on, whispered to me as I came into church, ‘We don’t need to see God’s whole staircase. We just need to trust him with that next step.’

And so I will. I have some money put aside to self-publish the first book in the series, so unless God directs otherwise, I will continue with that first step. I will let Him be the one to inspire, lead and guide. I will remember that His vision is never clouded, His perspective never lost. Our human dreams are just that; hopes or desires that may be misguided, that can fade or disappear over time.

It’s lovely to have a set of printed books on the shelf, published a few months apart, all lined up, with matching covers for each book in the series. But God doesn’t need that for the words to reach those He intends for them to reach. And it is not needed to fulfil the vision I believe God has given me.

So I tentatively take that first step on the staircase, only able to see that first step, but knowing God’s vision is never flawed and that He will always catch me if I fall.

May each of us follow God’s purpose in our writing. May He be our inspiration, our creativity, our wisdom, our insight, our vision. And when our eyes are blurred with tears because a dream has died, may we lift those eyes to Him and see it all from His perspective. May we wait upon Him, may our strength be renewed as we rise up on wings like eagles, seeing it all from His point of view, no longer limited to our human condition. May our vision be filled with Him.

Do you have a vision? Has it changed over time or as God directed you? I would love you to share it in the comments.

Jenny Glazebrook lives in the country town of Gundagai with her husband, Rob and 4 children along with many pets. She is the published author of 7 novels, 1 traditionally published, and 6 self published. She writes because words burn within her. She is an experienced inspirational speaker and loves to encourage others to walk closer with God and hear His voice each day.  Jenny’s website is: www.jennyglazebrook.com

Jingle bells, Santa sells – by Ruth Bonetti

Australians all let us rejoice this Yuletide—though, by the sea, turkey maybe garnished with sand and sweat. How to capture the spirit of Christ-mass without snow, mistletoe and holly? 

Shopping malls are awash with tinsel, Jingle-Bell-muzak and Santa—who was invented for Coco-Cola advertisements. With his reindeer and unfashionable bulk, he muscled out the Christ Child. I'm allergic to reindeer hype and tempted to shoot Rudolf through his red nose, even if the animal liberationists counter attack. Swedish Christmas trees are decorated with cornstalk goats, not reindeer–they're ho-hum common.  While living near the Arctic Circle, I collected wood-carved nativity scenes, birch bark stars and angels to add to my Aussie pot plants.

The season of giving-–or gimme?

European gifts are given on December 6, St Nicholas’ Day. Music, services and candles lead Advent into Holy Night Mass on Christmas Eve. Northern hemisphere celebrations of the Light of the World make vivid images. Candles feature on Christmas cards and trees. The sun struggles out like a tired invalid for a few blinks mid-morning and fades by 3 pm.

Multimillion dollar marketing strategies set up parents for checkout tantrums. Glitzy TV ads build Christmas hype. Actors’ happy smiles rub vinegar into loneliness.

Counsellors know this is a peak time for lifeline calls. Relationships fracture. Split families juggle quality vs. quantity time. Frazzled striving to create a perfect day, choose the ideal Chinese sweat shop gifts. Great expectations shatter. Credit cards suffer. Many over-indulge and over-imbibe. 

Scarcity Angst

Family Christmas dinner at the redbrick riverside house. As six-year-old small fry, I am demoted to a coffee table overflow. My nostrils flare and tummy rumbles as plates laden with turkey, ham and vegetables pass along the tables—then halt. Granddad pronounces the blessing. Over the rattle of cutlery, I chirp several times before they hear, ‘Where’s mine?’ Mum scrabbles another plateful together. 

            [Excerpt from Midnight Sun to Southern Cross]

The Happy Families Myth

Loose cannon comments blitz harmony.  In my teens, catty barbs made me feel unwelcome in my own home. I fled south to camp on a friend’s couch.

The next lonely years looked out my window at the happy-family lights of Brisbane and prayed for love. That maiden’s prayer was answered. Antoni and I married 45 years ago, our relationship cemented by seven years in Europe. 

Our first European winter 

As struggling students armed with Eurail pass and backpacks, we blitzed an unrealistic £10 a day budget; youth hostels were chuiso, fermé or geschloßen for the festive season. Also banks, in the dark ages before internet fund transfers. The Vienna-Venice train offered six-hours’ sleep. Next night Venice-Rome, then Rome-Venice. 

We shared plates of goulash soup or spaghetti; a half-cup of tea still warmed throats. On Salzburg Bahnhof platform a stranger gave chocolates called “Manna.” This tiny gift warmed our hearts like a sunburst from heaven. Our marriage was firmed by sharing life’s basics; food, shelter and love.
Two years later:

Aussie friends landed on our Swedish doorstep just after our travels had depleted our cash. The refrigerator was bare except for a dubious slab of lutfisk cod. How to make it edible after the usual evil processes of salting and soaking in lye? I wrinkled my nose. Knowing tourist budgets, how could I ask the friends to take us out to dinner? Margaret resorted to hints of reading my recipe books. There was no other choice: the smelly cod. 

                                         [Excerpt from Burn My Letters]

Gifts of time, friendship and hospitality

We drove three young sons through the arctic winter in a campervan. Its heating expired at the first snowfall but we were warmed by snug beds, hospitality from friends and family. Advent music concerts, sung Christmas Eve mass in Oberammergau uplifted our spirits.

Last Christmas we shared with four unattached, grateful people. Six months later one died, too young. Alienated from his remaining family, no one organised a funeral to celebrate his life and gifts. 

Reflect; what phone calls could you make to reconcile with others before it’s too late?
Rather than see them next over—or in—a coffin, why not share Christmas cheer?

May your Christmas be truly blessed with God's peace, love and joy.
Rejoice!


RUTH BONETTI is grateful for opportunities to explore her Scandinavian heritage family traditions, written up in her two-part saga, Burn My Letters and Midnight Sun to Southern Cross. She will share ways to surmount the challenges of Writing Family Stories at Omega Writers Book Fair on 16 March, 2019.
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Ditching the Black Dog

Photo copyright Susan J Bruce - all rights reserved

Do you ever find that the difficult patches in the writing life come at unexpected times?

The last part of October and the first part of November was an encouraging time for me. I won the unpublished manuscript section of the Caleb Prize and I flew to the Gold Coast on the following Monday to do a Margie Lawson writing Immersion. For those who don’t know, Margie is an international writing coach, and I was delighted when a place became available in one of her teaching weeks. And yes – it was AWESOME. 

Life was busy when I returned and I lost some of the rhythm that I had built up prior to doing the Immersion. Then I received some negative feedback, had a flare of some health issues and then for some reason I stopped writing. Discouragement struck – and I became stuck. The launch of If They Could Talk: Bible stories told by the animals, an anthology for which I was editor, helped lift my spirits. But even this milestone couldn't fix my writing doldrums.  

Maybe I’m the only one who goes through periods like this. Maybe the rest of you intrepid writers have it together and never feel like a four-wheel-drive bogged to the windows in Gobi desert sand. 

No? 

I also have to admit to a tincture of perfectionism somewhere in the mix. Perfectionism would be okay if we were perfect, wouldn’t it? Imagine a first draft that you never needed to revise. Ah, bliss! Cue serene music…

But back to reality.

Discouragement, seeded with grains of perfectionism, can lead to procrastination which leads to more discouragement and more procrastination, etc., etc., etc., which leads to hopelessness and before you know it, the black dog is something other than my cheeky Chihuahua/ Shihtzu cross pictured above.

I wrote nothing, playing a LOT of Sudoku instead. The only good thing that came from it was that I finally beat my husband’s best time on the online version of the game. We’re not at all competitive in our house by the way (cough). Other than that one moment of domestic triumph, I was sad to the core and didn’t know how to break myself out of the funk. 

Then I remembered a section of a book I’d recently read. A friend had mentioned Stephen Furtick’s book, Greater, a while ago and I was intrigued enough to buy a copy. In Greater, Furtick uses examples from the life of the prophet Elisha to encourage Christians to live out God’s vision for their life.

In chapter five, the author refers to the Bible passage, 2 Kings 3. King Joram of Israel enlists the help of King Jehoshaphat of Judah to fight the Moabite army. The problem is that after seven days of marching in the desert of Edom, they don’t have any water left for their animals or their troops. 

Jehoshaphat, being a godly king, asks Elisha to talk to God about their problem. Elisha agrees and God says something strange. He tells them that they won’t see wind or rain but He will make water flow from the hills in Edom. It is easy for God to do this. In several translations (e.g., the NASV) God tells them to make the valley full of trenches – i.e., dig a vast amount of ditches (2 Kings 3:16). 

Imagine being those people. There were no clouds in the sky, just heat and dust and a sense of hopelessness. Two vast armies on the verge of dying of thirst, and God tells them to start digging. It would seem counterintuitive in the extreme. Sweat and toil all night when there’s no visible way of having your need for water met. Yet they did it, and in the morning the valley was filled with water.

Furtick uses this as a prime example of how faith works. He writes: 

It’s as if God says, “If you really believe I’m going to do what I told you I would do, get busy. Show me your faith, and then I’ll show you My faithfulness. Do your part. If you do what I asked you to do, I will be faithful to My word. 

(Greater, p. 66)

I agree with Furtick, but I also think it's one of the best metaphors I’ve ever read on the nature of the writer’s life. 
We need to believe in what we are doing and act on that belief. Most of us reading this have felt the call to write. We know God wants us to do this. So we need to do it, even if the ideas have dried up and the words we thirst for elude us. When discouragement invades and we feel like giving up, we need to seek God. And when we do, we need to act. Even if it's writing just a few words at a time. 

In this instance of depression God told me to ‘remember’. Remember that I have called you. Remember what I’ve promised you. Remember that I love you. Now go and do your thing. Write in faith: one word after another and I will fill your words with my life. Dig the ditches and I will send my rain.

And so I write – and the black dog morphs back into a naughty puppy again – and I have hope. 

How about you. Do you have times in your life where writing is hard? What helps? Does 'digging ditches' work for you? Let's encourage each other in the comments below.

Reference: S. Furtick, Greater: Dream bigger. Start smaller. Ignite God’s vision for your life., Multnomah Books, Colorado, 2017.

Susan J. Bruce, aka Sue Jeffrey, spent her childhood reading, drawing, and collecting stray animals. Now she’s grown up she does the same kinds of things. Sue works part time as a veterinarian, writes stories filled with themes of overcoming, adventure and belonging, and loves to paint animals. Sue won the Short section of the inaugural Stories of Life writing competition and recently won the 'Unpublished Manuscript' section of the 2018 Caleb prize. Sue is the editor of 'If They Could Talk: Bible Stories Told By the Animals' (Morning Star Publishing) and her stories and poems have appeared in multiple anthologies. Her e-book 'Ruthless The Killer: A Short Story' is available on Amazon.com. You can check out Sue’s animal art on Facebook.

The Houses of God

Last year I took my eleven-year-old son, Tully on a three-week holiday to Europe. My husband, who is not a willing traveler stayed behind and kept business and home together.

One of my travel goals was to see as much as I could in the short time we had. We certainly accomplished that. We covered the main centers of France, Switzerland, Austria, and Italy. It was a whirlwind trip of a lifetime, and one we will never forget. 

One of the biggest spiritual lessons I learned while I was away was that God doesn’t have a ‘house.’

We were blessed to cross the thresholds of many famous Christian churches on our trip, including some of the most spectacular examples of architecture this world has to offer. Huge structures decorated with priceless artistry. My photos accompanying this column really don’t do them justice.

The word that was constantly on my lips was ‘magnificent.’ While they were a feast for the eyes, I was disappointed to realize most didn’t inspire a spiritual magnificence within me.

I don’t know exactly what I expected to feel when I stood in the middle of these buildings, but I was often aware that I lacked a spiritual connection, a feeling of belonging. It disturbed me—after all, these were the houses of my living God, the God I serve and love. Was there something wrong with me? Was I lacking as a Christian? Did I not have enough of the spirit within to feel the presence of the Lord?

I took this back to God in prayer, asking Him how this was so. He reminded me of the many places I did keenly feel His presence.

At our bush camp, looking out at the magnificence of my homeland, Bible on my lap, kookaburras laughing in the trees, and the wind whistling up the valley. On the beach, sand beneath my feet looking out at an expanse of blue and green that filled the horizon. And sitting on my ‘prayer couch’ outside my house sipping a cup of morning tea, my dogs beside me.

I came to the sudden realization that God doesn’t have a house. His kingdom lies within me, and His presence fills His creation—every corner, every surface, both in the buildings constructed for Him, and throughout the entire world.

I was satisfied with this. I didn’t need to feel a spiritual connection with these cathedrals, but I did know God was there for those who sought Him.

Then, just when I thought I wouldn’t find a spiritual connection in any of these magnificent cathedrals, I entered the Sistine Chapel. It wasn’t the largest or the most ornately decorated place of worship we entered, but it certainly did stir my spirit. I don’t know why.

Maybe it was because I had just been told the story of Michelangelo’s personal dedication, sacrifice, and perseverance in completing his ceiling in spite of the odds. Maybe it was the content of his work. Within his beautiful paintings there were dedications to male and female prophets. There were stories of our imperfect natures, stories of God’s great love for us in spite of ourselves.

The small chapel was jam-packed with tourists. No photography, and strictly no speaking. We were forced to stand, and study. I do believe it was perfect. The perfect spiritual connection in the perfect place. I didn’t need to feel it in every church I entered—I just needed to wait and enter the right church for me.

So, dear reader, if you find yourself without a church to attend at this moment in your life, do not despair. Maybe the Lord is directing you to find Him elsewhere. Maybe He wants to show you where He lives in this creation He has made. Maybe He is taking you over many church thresholds so when you cross the perfect one for you, you will know it in your spirit. Maybe He wants to grow His spirit in the one place He tells us He really wants to be – Your heart.  

  

My son, give me your heart and let your eyes delight in my ways, Proverbs 23:26 (NIV)

I hope you enjoy some of our cathedral holiday snaps. Unfortunately, you will not find any of the Sistine Chapel—no photos allowed—but I urge you to ask the Lord to show you His version of magnificence. I know He will delight in revealing His awesome works to you, far more awesome than anything a human hand could ever produce.

... nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There!’ for behold, the kingdom of God is in the midst of you.” Luke 17:21 (ESV)

Rose was born in North Queensland, Australia. Her childhood experiences growing up in a small beach community would later provide inspiration for her Resolution series.

Two of the three Resolution novels have won Australian CALEB awards. She has also released The Greenfield Legacy, a collaborative novel highlighting the pain of Australia’s past policy of forced adoption, as well as standalone novel, Ehvah After. Her most recent release is the novella, A Christmas Resolution.

Her novels are inspired by the love of her coastal home and her desire to produce stories that point readers to Jesus. Rose holds a Bachelor of Arts degree, and resides in Mackay, North Queensland with her husband and son.

Visit Rose at: www.rosedee.com