Writing With a Purpose

Hide e Ho!! And finally it seems as if spring has truly sprung here in the Queen City! Things are definitely coming up roses; lots of bright blue skies and sunshine. The rain has washed away the pollen and left behind a clean and clear atmosphere. The beautiful flowers are in bloom, and it's all just so nice.

Anyway, since my last post I have been very busy! I am composing fresh and new articles for submission to several online journals, as well as putting a new spin on some old ones for the same purpose. This will get my foot in the door as a freelance writer, and I will be paid for those articles that get accepted for publication. Isn't that wonderful? Just imagine...soon I will be a presence in the online world of journalism!!

Plus, I have started on the preliminary work for a new book (in addition to the one I'm already working on), but this is something entirely different. First off, it will be a much shorter book...probably no more than ten chapters. And it is my very first attempt at writing spiritual and inspirational work.

It should not be a problem though; I have so very much to be grateful to God for, and I have gained quite a bit of knowledge and wisdom over the past year...all coming to be as blessings, grace and mercy from my Heavenly Father. So, it is no reach for me to be able to put into words how much I love him, and how much he loves me and the revelations he has given me.

What is my purpose for writing this? To share with others my experiences; both good and not so good...so I can be an encouragement and a witness for God that he might receive the glory! Simple!
I am very excited (as I usually am) about this new project. It is a welcome break from my current projects, and everyone knows that it helps to be versatile, right?

So now you have a new and exciting book to look forward to in the near future, and I am glad to oblige you in your anticipations. Here is an sample of what the book will be about. But...the title is tentative, so for now its just "the book".

Take a look.

Recently, I learned three very important things about the word witness. The New Merriam-Webster’s dictionary defines the word ‘witness’ as both a noun and a verb, and we all understand that many words can have both connotations,  and we understand the difference. I will list a few of the descriptions found for the word when described in both vernaculars.  As a noun, witness is defined as one who has personal knowledge of something or one who can testify as to a cause (gives evidence). As an action word (or verb) it is defined as one who can furnish proof of something.

Next, let’s look at the word ‘program’. Once again, the dictionary supplies us with meanings and once again this word is interchangeable as a noun and a verb.  We can safely say that a program is an outline for a plan, a specific curriculum or an agenda. Using the word program as a verb we can say that it means to process or to apply a platform or database.  All of this is quite interesting, but now it’s time to pull it all together and look at the personal side of the title and what it means to me.

I recently learned a lot about the meaning of the word witness and how important a role it plays into my new life. 

During a special event that took place at my church, I learned what it truly meant to be a witness for the Lord, how crucial a part of my spiritual life it was, and how as a believer and a disciple of Christ, it was required. I had heard my own Mother speak about “witnessing for Christ”, but I never questioned her as to what she meant. Truth is, I didn’t really care. The not really caring part of me coupled with the lackadaisical attitude of thinking it didn’t matter dominated most of my adult life as a ‘so-called’ believer. The word ‘disciple’ never entered into my mind much less my vocabulary outside of referencing Jesus' apostles. 

 

When our eyes are open wide, our ears are tuned to hear and our hearts are ready to receive, that’s when the fullness of Him and all that He is can be given over to us. We can be transformed in the twinkling of an eye from our old self into a brand new self. He is ready and willing to accept us into His Witness Protection Program with open arms. All we have to do is take the first step, and He’ll take two. Keep putting one foot in front of the other and walking by faith and not by sight …walking by His grace and our lives will never be the same.

The Way We Were...

The 2012 Holiday Season is here, and I'm sure that with its approach many of us are anxious about how we will be celebrating them. For great many of us, the memories of happy and carefree holidays past that were celebrated with our loved ones who for some reason or another are no longer with us. Some of these loved ones have gone from us by passing away; while others have moved on to a new life of some sort. Either way; they are no longer a vital part of our lives and for all intents and purposes have left us behind, and all too often their departure has left a huge void that even with the passing of time; has been hard to fill.

Each Thanksgiving Holiday brings back so many treasured memories of being a child growing up in my parents house. The delicious aromas of cooking filled our house, but what I remember most was not just the food aromas, but the house itself had a certain special smell all through it. This was an indescribable fragrance. It was created not only by pine scented decorations or pumpkin pie; I think it was the pure essence of love coupled with the unmistakable sweetness of my Mother that filled the air and made our house a home.

My Mother was an excellent cook, and she always laid out a sumptuous spread fit for a king, even though the guests at our table usually consisted of my parents, my younger brother, and our grandparents...maybe an aunt and uncle or two. My Daddy loved the holidays. Absolutely loved them! He would start to stake out a Christmas tree for us right after Halloween was over, and from that time on he was as happy as a child anticipating Christmas.

For Thanksgiving, he would help Momma out in the kitchen by chopping the veggies or the "goodies" as she called them to go into the stuffing and the potato salad. He would joke around with her and tease her so much until finally she had to banish him from her domain in order to get her cooking done. I would be watching the parades on television, reading a magazine or maybe listening to records while they were working in the kitchen and I could hear them talking, laughing, and just loving the closeness they shared simply by being together. She would put him in charge of the turkey from the moment she put the big bird in the oven until it was time to set it on the table as the centerpiece of the Thanksgiving Day meal. There was a certain comfort and a feeling of well-being just knowing that my parents were happy and we were together as a family and most of all that soon I would be eating one of the best meals in the world!!

Both of my precious parents have been gone for a long time...twenty seven and twenty five years as of this year. But although time by the grace of God has healed the wound, and has dulled the pain the void they left can never be filled. Sometimes it seems as if it were only yesterday that I sat at my Mother's table in her warm and cheery kitchen. Sometimes it seems as if I never sat there at all. I am not alone in this experience or this feeling. Anyone who has been orphaned or widowed has felt the enormous pain of loss and has looked at the future ahead of them as bleak and lonely at one time or another. Life as we had known it...has ceased to exist.

I remember my Mother not only at holiday times, but when I'm singing a particular song, or looking at old family photos. I believe that I can still smell her essence when I close my eyes and think hard enough.  When I see her in family photos, I can go back in time mentally and recollect the exact thing she was doing in some of those photos. I can see my Daddy laughing, dancing a little jig when he'd had a little sip or two and see him at the kitchen stove frying bacon for breakfast. I remember him coming home from work tired and dirty from working on automobiles all day. Later when he'd had a job promotion, I recall him as a sales person in a local hardware store...charmingly assisting customers with their purchases. And giving me lunch money on my way to work even after I had become all grown up.

Memories...so many memories! They can comfort, they can make me laugh until I cry, and make me cry until I laugh. I dream of them both quite often. In my dreams they are speaking, but although I can see their faces and discern their features distinctly; I can hardly remember the sound of their voices. But that's okay; they echo off of the walls of my soul and they resound deep in my spirit. Here are the two places where their voices will never be without sound.

I would love to recreate those kind of holidays, but even though I have tried with my own family it just doesn't feel the same. Maybe its because I'm not then same. I'm too different now and too much time has passed with me being on my own. I'm not sure if I'd know how to relate to anyone else at this point in my life. I lose myself in the past sometimes. When I'm anxious, lonesome or feeling blue I go there...back to the little frame house where I spent most of my growing years and I'm safe and taken care of.

I can hear the television with the sound of "Gunsmoke" or "Rawhide" westerns playing and my Daddy is sitting in his easy chair in front of the set, totally immersed in his favorite shows. My Momma is in the kitchen washing dishes and there's cake leftover from dinner sitting on the sideboard. My younger brother is playing with his trains in his room, and I'm sprawled across my bed in my room leafing through an "Archie" comic book. And I remain here until I feel as if its safe to come back to reality, and when I do I feel stronger and more able to accept and to cope. Until its time to go back again.

Memories...of the way we were.