Crazy Busy with Brave Writer

For the next few days, my online time will be severely limited for a few reasons. Firstly, I have three huge Brave Writer deadlines looming this weekend. I need to write The Arrow and The Boomerang, both monthly language arts subscriptions. I ordered the books from the library on January 12 so I would have time to get an early start, but the books didn't arrive until Tuesday and Wednesday of this week. In addition, I start teaching the One Thing: Poetry online course on Monday for Brave Writer. Because I'm taking the class in a different direction than in past years, focusing this year on the writing of poetry, rather than appreciation/analysis of poems, I am having to write the vast majority of the posts from scratch.

March's One Thing: Grammar that I'll be teaching is already written as it's the brainchild of Brave Writer owner Julie Bogart, so it will be less work in composing the class at least. Taking a sort of backward approach, One Thing: Grammar involves playing with words then observing how they work and extrapolating hypotheses of possible grammar guideleines, it's also THE most creative and fun approach to grammar I've ever experienced.

So these three deadlines for The Arrow, The Boomerang, and One Thing: Poetry should keep me quite busy tonight and tomorrow. Besides Brave Writer stuffola, this weekend I need to write an article for our art council's upcoming writing and arts conference in May that will be published in multiple back country newspapers and perhaps throughout the county. The title of the conference is Beauty and the Beast: Arts in an Age of Adversity. It's gonna be great, and normally I would enjoy writing this article, but with the other deadlines hanging over my head, I'm going to have to rush a bit, something I dislike greatly when writing. The fun of writing is being so engrossed in the play of words that time dissolves, melting away until something mundane catches my attention and I am dumbfounded by the passage of time.

I also have usual weekend things to do: menu and grocery list, laundry, lesson planning for our four homeschooled students, paying bills, church, etc. Plus, on Sunday we have a real treat: our former youth & worship pastor, Rollo Casiple, who left sunny San Diego for sunny Miami where he pastors an inner-city EV Free church called La Vina Community Church, is going to be at Lake Murray for a visit. Rollo is one of my favorite people ever. When I first found myself being drawn into liturgy, I stopped by to talk it over with Rollo and found a kindred liturgical spirit. Rollo had seriously considered joining the Eastern Orthodox Church in the past; the reason he didn't was a feeling of irrelevancy to our current culture, and Rollo is all about reaching out to young people in our culture. He and his lovely wife Sarah (who grew up in a rather liturgical Lutheran church) will be here on Sunday, and after church Lake Murray is hosting a carne asada taco youth fundraiser that will allow us to hang out with Rollo and Sarah as well. I can't wait to see him and Sarah again and talk liturgy!

So this weekend will be a very busy one. I'm telling you this so you don't expect the composition of Italian sonnets or a long post about ecumenism or something along those lines. I'll post a few articles and such for the next few days for your perusal (never say I don't give ya anything!), but serious writing will have to be postponed until well into next week.

Oh, and I have Class Day grades for two classes plus my own four kiddos due a week from today, and much grading and computing to do to ready these final semester grades.

So we may have a rather thin week goin' on. I'll be back to play with words and ideas here as soon as I possibly can. Just a teensy warning....

Regarding Faith....

Our home church, Lake Murray Community Church, supports missionary workers here in our area, in various places in the continental United States, and overseas. Several years ago, K left our congregation to serve God in Asia. We keep in contact with her regularly via e-mail. K is an intriguing woman, one who participated in our church's literary discussion group when she was in town and is an excellent writer. Last week she sent those who support her in prayer this letter; I asked her permission to share it here. It touched me, especially in light of the difficulties of several of my friends lately, and I hope that you find it helpful and/or enlightening too....

God does not lose hope. He is not uncertain of his plan working out in the world, or wondering if he can conquer the next obstacle. He is not worried that we might not do our part, and the whole thing will come crashing down.

He is not tired. He is not anxious. He is not overwhelmed.

He is not indifferent to our troubles, our insecurities, our worries.
But he is secure enough in who he is to swallow all of our problems
without them bringing him down.

It is in the moment that we see Jesus on the cross that we realize
God’s commitment to humanity. In becoming like us, he makes a new way
for us to be victorious in the midst of pain, despair, and death.
Because ultimately, he cannot be conquered. And since his Spirit
lives in us, and his promise is to work all things together for good
for his followers, we can believe that his plans for us will come to
fruition.

Some of our wounds, some our questions, will never find answers this
side of heaven. But his challenge to us is to see the unfolding
history that we are participating in through eyes of faith. To
approach others in love. To hope.

We all borrow hope from one another from time to time. I think one of
my favorite things about being a part of the community of followers of
Jesus is that when I run out of hope, energy, or motivation, others
gather around me to lift me up with encouragement, love, and prayer.

But ultimately, that hope can’t be rooted in the Body, no matter how
amazing our communion is. Jesus, the Messiah, is the head of the
Body. His death and resurrection are what give us hope. His presence
is what keeps us going. Because he lives, we believe that redemption
is possible – that there is no situation so horrible, no sin so ugly,
no life so full of despair that he can’t turn it around.

As I look around at the situation of the U------ people – oppression,
prejudice, and misunderstandings from without, competition,
entitlement, and ethnic pride from within – it can be easy to get lost
in the layered impossibilities of their circumstances. How can I
believe in a God who is at work redeeming the world when I see so much
pain, violence, and evil going unchecked directly in front of me? It
is too much of a burden for me to carry; in fact it was a burden that
was never meant to be mine.

And yet, God has not lost hope for the U------ people, or for other
seemingly impossible-to-reach Muslim groups around the world. He is
not surprised by what he sees, and he is determined to bring his
reality into their broken world.

I’ve been slowly realizing, as I’ve come to him with my exhaustion and
brokenness, that I can’t rely only on my own vision, my own strength.
I need to borrow hope for the U------ people from him; to take a few
minutes to regroup and look at them from his perspective.

And so when Jesus calls us to come to him with our burdens and rest, I
can believe that this is exactly what I need. Even though the work
isn’t finished, even though there is still sin and suffering, even
though the Kingdom has not yet come on earth… God is handling it.

Aaaaaah. I feel much better now. One of the regular readers of my blog cautioned me to be careful of taking on my friends' difficult issues, and rightly so. I tend to suffer along with my friends and it literally makes me ill, somehow increasing my chronic pain and lowering my immune response. So I'm ever-so-slowly learning to place the problems of others at the foot of the Cross. Now the real issue: leaving them there and not picking them back up....

Prayer for Difficulties and Challenges

Over the past week, my heart has been heavy, weighed down with the pain of loved ones. For the pain of those in Haiti, for those who lost beloved friends and family in the earthquake, like our friends L & S and their four children. And for my friend S---- about whom I wrote a poem yesterday. And a dear lady from our church "went home" to the Lord this morning. Yes, a heavy, heavy heart.

As I knelt down to pray this morning (I still would *adore* having a real prie dieu like the one above to pray on!), I found myself especially moved by the words of John Baillie in his classic book A Diary of Private Prayer, a book I use on a daily basis as part of my devotion to prayer.

From the Twenty-Seventh Day, Morning:

O Lord my God, who dwellest in pure and blessed serenity beyond the reach of mortal pain, yet lookest down in unspeakable love and tenderness upon the sorrowsof earth, give me grace, I beseech Thee, to understand the meaning of such afflictions and disappointments as I myself am called upon to endure. Deliver me from all fretfulness. Let me be wise to draw from every dispensation of Thy providence the lesson Thou art minded to teach me. Give me a stout heart to bear my own burdens. Give me a willing heart to bear the burdens of others. Give me a believing heart to cast all burdens upon Thee.

Glory be to Thee, O Father, and to Thee, O Christ, and to Thee, O Holy Spirit, for ever and ever. Amen.

A Poem: For S----

Yesterday I received an e-mail from a friend who is filing for divorce from her husband. When I looked at the new Carry on Tuesday prompt -- a quote from Sir Joshua Reynolds, 18th century artist -- "A room hung with pictures is a room hung with thoughts," I found myself thinking of S---- and her family.

Part of me is angry with her so-called husband, and part of me grieves for a family broken, dismantled, a friend in pain. So I had to write about it, "vent" it, let it flow through brain to pen to paper....

her room hung
with thoughts--
her mind wearily circling,
replaying,
rehashing:
her discovery.
his lies.
her betrayed tears.
more of his lies.

then truth seeped in,
dripping word
by word
by word
until all flooded--
flowing over the
doorframe marked with
heights of four children--
destroying them
in its wake.

coughing back furious sobs,
she told him
to leave,
standing
strong, firm
among the wreckage
of twenty years.

and so he left,
not looking back.

Copyright 2010 by Susanne Barrett

Quotations of the Week: Oswald Chambers

More than any book quoted in my Quotation Journal, Oswald Chambers' classic My Utmost for His Highest whispers God's Truth into my ear, if I but am willing to hear. Page after page is covered in fading sepia ink with Chambers' wise, wise words, birthed of the Holy Spirit.

When I look at the lives that surround mine, I see such pain, such loss: the loss of faith in a spouse and of hope for a marriage; the loss of health as cancer returns; the loss of a beloved father; the loss of significant portions of a bodily organ due to a surgeon's error; the loss of a mother/grandmother in the ruins of the Haitian earthquake; the loss of homes and loved ones for so many in Haiti; the loss of the ability to walk, puzzling doctors and specialists; the loss of wife and family due to sin ... and the list marches on -- tearing apart families, leaving grief in its wake.

Oswald Chambers writes of these times from a time removed from ours, but grief, loss, sorrow -- these shadows over the human soul are timeless, ageless. The pain was as real then as it is now, and Chambers offers a wisdom divinely inspired -- a hope, a confidence that we need now more than ever.

So I offer you a few gems from the pen of Oswald Chambers:

"Faith never knows where it is being led, but it loves and knows the One Who is leading.... One of the biggest snares is the idea that God is sure to lead us to success." (March 19)

"Waiting for the vision that tarries is the test of our loyalty to God." (March 11)

"If the Spirit of God detects anything in you that is wrong, He does not ask you to to put it right; He asks you to accept the light, and He will put it right." (March 23)

"Faith is not a pathetic sentiment, but a robust confidence built on the fact that God is holy love.... Faith is the heroic effort of your life; you fling yourself in reckless confidence on God." (May 8)

The Gratitude Attitude, Continued....

On my journey to 1000 Gifts in Ann Voskamp's Gratitude Community, I am pausing by the wayside to thank our Lord and Savior for ...

61. ... the joy of watching Elizabeth choose a laptop that she saved the money for herself, hard-won earnings from a menial job that teaches her responsibility and helps her to value the fruits of her hard work.

62. ... friends on Facebook who pray for me, encourage me, and inspire me to love and good deeds. For friends from gradeschool through college, from various work venues and church friends as well as online friends new and old --"one is silver and the other gold."

63. ... for my job at Brave Writer where I impart my passions online in grammar, writing, literature, and poetry and receive pay for doing so! The perfect job for me.

64. ... for the other teachers of our children besides myself, whether they be at church, at Class Day, in our small town, or family. Thank you for investing your hearts and time into our children and teaching them all I cannot.

65. ... for the rain and snow of the last week as the drought-thirsty land quenched its parched throat with gulps of cool ice-water, nourishing oaks and pines, cedars and cypresses, and the dormant bulbs awaiting their cue.

66. ... for the benefit of a roof over our heads, food in the pantry, and firewood to keep us warm -- so much more than most people in the world possess.

67. ... my chiropractor, Dr. Charles Burns, who is so concerned and kind, first noticing that something was dreadfully wrong and treating me for the past eight years with patience and perseverance.

68. ... our family doctor, Dr. Donald Adema, an osteopath, who sees us not only as patients but also as friends, inviting us to his home and commissioning stained glass windows from Keith. He and his lovely wife are such blessings in our lives.

69. ... that the two doctors mentioned above work together and pray together to help me gain the utmost in health and wellbeing. Several years ago I was wheelchair-bound and couch-ridden, and now I am able to exercise for 30 minutes on my stationary bike, pedaling up to five miles per day.

70. ... for the improvement in my health and strength, especially over the past two months. I have improved greatly, and rejoice in being able to exercise for the first time in almost eight years.

Creative Mayhem....

The storm clouds cleared; sunshine streamed through our windows this morning. When I made my way downstairs, the three boys were already outdoors, playing in the couple inches of snow deposited by the fifth storm this week. Grateful to be outdoors, the boys discovered a creative and energetic outlet in making snowmen. The large one they started yesterday was finished, and plans were made for its imminent annihilation. When the destruction flopped, T channeled his creativity into re-creating classic snowmen from the Calvin & Hobbes comic strips.

You may view these creative (and rather sick) snowmen on my photo blog: Susanne 365.

Hope for Haiti ... Now

Tonight Elizabeth and I watched the amazing, incredible Hope for Haiti Now mini-telethon/concert. The musicians were incredible. MTV lists the entire performances and a mini-review of the song/artists, plus a small window replays the entire concert: MTV Help for Haiti Now.

The most amazing performances in my book was Justin Timberlake's rendition of "Hallelujah," one of my very favorite songs, Stevie Wonder's version of "Bridge Over Troubled Waters," and Kid Rock, Keith Urban, and Sheryl Crow's "Lean on Me."

Also, iTunes will be selling the downloads, all proceeds going to Hope for Haiti Now.

Our family gave to Haiti through Samaritan's Purse as they have a 30-year history of working in Haiti and were already a presence there when the earthquake hit.

If you haven't already, please consider donating to the relief efforts in Haiti. I'm sure you already have, and tonight's concert was another reminder that there is a loooong way to go to restore and help this country. Let's not forget Haiti.

Snow Falls...

This morning we awoke to a change in the weather. Instead of the deluge of rain we've experienced all week, snow blanketed our front garden. I snapped a photo from inside our cozy house, looking out through our porch and across the meadow outside our gate.

Our little mountain town, elevation 3800 feet, is only fifty miles east of (usually) sunny San Diego, yet we experience all four seasons much differently than the usual San Diegan. We receive a few snowfalls each winter, usually in January and February; an inch or two is normally all we receive, melting within a few hours.



Around 7:30 this morning I stepped out onto the porch in stocking feet to capture the falling snow. The snow stopped mid-morning, so I took the two younger ones 15 miles down the mountain to Alpine for Morning Prayer and Holy Eucharist with Father Acker at Victoria House where Alpine Anglican Church of the Blessed Trinity meets on weekdays. Following Communion, Jonathan had his guitar lesson with Father Acker until 10:45.

Deciding to skip a trip all the way into San Diego for my chiropractic appointment, we turned eastward and started back up the mountain. Snow started softly falling on my windshield as I boarded the freeway, and we passed a very serious car accident as the snow began to accumulate under my slowly-turning wheels. I took the next exit, deciding to enter our town "the back way" on smaller highways rather than via the slippery Interstate.

But the narrow, winding highways were also snow-covered, so I slowed my speed to 20 mph as "Molly," my beloved '91 Corolla, attempted to keep her balding tires on the slushy road. The snow drifted down in increasingly larger flakes, falling furiously and reducing visibility. I could feel the tires slipping along the paving, the back of the car fish-tailing slightly. Then the snow began to fall in earnest, creating blizzard-like conditions, something definitely NOT seen often in San Diego County. While I started praying under my breath, "Molly" skidded slightly as I edged her up the mountain and into the small community of Guatay. Deciding that conditions were not safe enough to continue, I pulled "Molly" into a parking place in front of the tiny hardware store.

Whipping out my cell phone, I planned to call my husband to fetch us in the van for which we have snow chains, but my cell could not receive a signal. Sighing, I told the boys to stay put in the warm backseat and, taking my cane with me, struggled through puddles and snow to the front door of the hardware store where they allowed me to call home, only five miles away. Keith assured me he would come, so I muddled my way back to the car to wait with the boys.

Ten minutes later, we heard someone from the hardware store calling my name, telling me that my husband was on the phone. I managed to slide my way through the snow drifts again to pick up the phone; the van wouldn't start and Keith told me I was on my own and to drive home slowly. Fortunately, while we were waiting, the snow had slowed, falling now in smaller, tighter flakes that allowed for far better visibility, plus several cars had driven past, leaving melted tracks on the snowy highway.

Turning in my seat, I held a hand out to the boys who placed their hands in mine while I prayed for our safe home-going. I managed to persuade "Molly" to back out of the snowbank that had accumulated during our wait, and somehow she found enough traction to pull us back onto the highway. We proceeded home at 15-20 mph, thankful for the wet tire tracks through the now-slushy snow and the greatly improved visibility for driving. We edged down the hill into our whitened valley, sloshing across the meadow and parking "Molly" in our driveway with grateful hearts.

We certainly experienced an adventure today. The snow continued to fall off and on all day, and many events in our town have been canceled, including our art council's program tonight. I'm thankful to be home, in a warm house with a hot fire in the wood stove, and steaming ham and bean soup for dinner. The word "thankful" seems inadequate to express the relief, the joy, of being home safely.

Gratitude swells in my heart, through my fingers, and onto this blog. Thanks be to God for His guiding Hand in bringing us home safely through the blizzard conditions, something we are not at all used to in Southern California.

"It Never Rains in Southern California..."

Today's storm was the fourth this week. Winds howled around the corners of our home, occasionally screaming down the chimney, violently bending the pine, oak, and cypress trees that surround our mountain home. Rain poured from the gray skies, then hail pounded sideways in the gale. Our front yard filled with puddles, then ponds, then lakes. I could barely open the front door with the winds pushing it closed.

Nine red flag weather warnings for our county scrolled down my computer screen. Wind warnings to 85 miles per hour. Flood warnings along the coast and valleys through Saturday morning. Ocean waves to 15-20 feet. Tornado warnings. Severe thunderstorm warnings. Rivers flooding their banks. Reports of 73 mph winds in La Jolla. Trains between San Diego and Los Angeles were shut down this afternoon. Southwest Airlines canceled all flights in and out of San Diego today, stranding my dad in San Francisco; my mother at least was not alone last night since her brother stayed with her because he couldn't get out to the sailboat he lives on in San Diego Bay. Cars were stranded up to their headlights just a few blocks from my parents' home.

A levee broke in South Bay, in the Tijuana River Valley. More than a dozen power outages struck the county. Many cars were swept away in North County, and news crews filmed kayakers traveling up Mission Boulevard in the beach communities. Many trees fell across roads throughout the county on this fourth day of storms. Mudslides after last summer's wildfires are a real danger. Sea World and Legoland closed today, and at least Sea World will be closed tomorrow.

Tonight the rain descends almost horizontally among the violently tossing trees. Thunder echoes above our home, the lightning waking our boys this evening. Weather experts are predicting five to eight inches of snow in our mountains overnight; our town is right on the edge of the prediction. Rain and hail still tumble from the sky, pelting our roof while the winds continue to shriek around the house and down the chimney as I type.

This is not the sunny San Diego County we know.

During school we drew near the fire, with Timothy doing his copywork at the hearth. In preparation for the storms, the boys stacked firewood on both sides of the woodburning stove, our only heat source besides a couple of electric heaters. Today Keith stayed home from work at my mother's insistence; he was planning to work on my parents' elevator project, but the flooding in the beach areas was serious. He made savory ham and bean soup for our dinner tonight -- perfect for a stormy night.

San Diego's annual rainfall is 10 inches; in the mountains, our annual rainfall is 23 inches. In the city they've received half of the annual rainfall in the past four days. The predictions are for up to 20 inches here in the mountains for the week. The El Nino that is bringing us this southern jet stream and these storms hasn't been this strongly since 1997-98, and perhaps not since 1983.

And another storm is due tomorrow morning.

Trying to stay safe and dry in (usually) sunny Southern California,