I Love "Go To Meeting" - Meyer

It’s hard for me to believe that I am still continuing my technology series of blogs. Hard for me to believe, not because there is a dearth of new technology but because I, Dorene Meyer, am embracing it!

Those of you who know me well, know that I cherish the simple life and have an ongoing love/hate (mostly hate) relationship with technology of any kind.

But I gotta say, I do like (maybe love is too strong of a word) “go to meeting.”

Last evening, I participated in the first ever online “Open Mic” session put on by The Word Guild. All I needed was an inexpensive headset and my old desk-top computer, and I was “in” (or should I say “on”?)

One of the exciting things for me, living as I do in a remote northern community, is my annual trek down to Write! Canada www.writecanada.org . There I can renew acquaintances with authors from all over the country and participate in writing events such as workshops, classes, readings and such. Throughout the year, the connection wanes and a feeling of isolation sets in again, especially as I hear of events happening in Winnipeg, Toronto, Halifax, Vancouver…  But for that one hour last evening, it was almost as if I was at Write! Canada again!

The session began with an introduction by the organizers, Les Lindquist (chair of Christian Info Canada) and Paul Oleniuk (2006 winner in the teen category of “God Uses Ink”). This was followed by readings and Q&A by Sara Davison and by Jayne E. Self, two authors shortlisted for the best mystery book award at the Canadian ChristianWriting Awards. I had known ahead of time that these two authors were going to be reading but was in for a surprise when first Marcia Laycock and then Linda Hall gave a reading and had a Q&A.

What was amazing for me was the way that we could all, for that one hour, be communicating and connecting from such diverse parts of the country. Even though I was way up north, I could connect with Jayne and Sara in the south, Marcia in the west, and Linda in the east. For that one hour, technology shrunk our huge country down to a manageable size!

I think The Word Guild is hoping to have more online sessions connecting writers from coast to coast. And for all of you technophobes out there, trust me on this, if I can do it, you can!  And just to prove how inept I am, I’ll confess something I was planning to keep a secret. I was on a “go to meeting” conference with N.J. Lindquist earlier that day. The meeting started okay when I responded to the link she sent me, but for some unfathomable reason, I couldn’t get my microphone or speaker to work, and we finally resorted to conversing over the phone. I was surprised because I had experienced no problems the last time we connected. Well, last evening, I discovered my mistake. In the tangle of wires I have on my desk, I have TWO little green connecting thingamabobs that I plug into my computer: one is for my infrequently used set of speakers and one is for my new set of headphones.  Yeah, you guessed it: I had the wrong little green thingamajig plugged in. Sigh… They really do look the same.

And soon - just thirteen more days! – the real Write! Canada will begin – hope to see you all there!

Dorene Meyer

Award-winning Author of:

Jasmine,  

Lewis, 

Joshua.

Multi-tasking to One-track Mind by Ruth Smith Meyer

Motherhood, for me, was a crash course to acclimatize me to that state in which many of us operate—multi-tasking. Our first two babies, only fourteen months apart assured that I learned fast.  With the birth of our third three years later, I heard the truth of my mom’s quote, “With one you pick up and run, with two you make do, with three you stay where you be,” but I tried to ignore it and still find a way to do everything I thought I should do.

               As the years progressed I learned to juggle house work, child care, gardening, home canning, baking, cooking sewing, committee work, home and school involvements, volunteering.  As the children passed to pre-teen and teen years, I added driving to and from extra-curricular activities, youth activities, concerts and much more. Then the children entered university and adult years.  The nest began to empty, but I was on a roll. 

As school and youth involvements for my children slowed down, I began to take evening courses to enhance my own education and learning since I hadn’t been allowed to go as far in school as I would have liked.   To gather experience, I volunteered in church and wider church activities, in a kindergarten classroom and committees, juggling that with my home-maker and mothering roles all the while, multi-tasking through busy days and weeks.   A part-time job came along and I added that to the mix, cutting out very little else. When I broke my leg and ended up in a cast for five months, it felt as though that was the only way God could get through to me the idea that things could continue without me and that maybe, just  maybe, I should slow down a bit.  Even while in cast, I filled my moments writing letters, doing crafts and drawing that I normally wouldn’t have taken time to do.

 By and by, I helped establish and run a Senior’s Day Program.  My multi-tasking continued, but in more focused form as I planned a varied program for the seniors and began a regular column in several local newspapers. My job, by its very nature, still required a lot of multi-tasking.

When that job ended, I began a writing career.  For a few years, especially in the transition from married woman to widow, writing became my central focus. Although I still maintained a few other involvements, they were scheduled to accommodate my regular time for writing. Gradually though, a life-time habit crept in. Soon I was once more busy with committees, volunteering and a host of other undertakings. A new marriage once more added the role of spouse to my agenda.  That was and is a joy, but it changed the balance of my days somewhat.

A few months ago when my husband was diagnosed with tumors in his spine, our lives began to spin around the possibilities that condition may impose on us.  When he entered hospital for surgery and an expected 3-5 day stay which was extended to 17 days because of complications, the centrifugal force spun many of my activities to the outer edges.  My mind went into a one-track mode aimed at supporting my beloved, encouraging and advocating for him, doing everything in my power to get him well. 

I found that much of the help promised to me while they tried to get us out of the hospital, turned out to be training me to do it myself.  Wound care and giving needles were not in my training background, but became part of my routine.  An emergency trip back to hospital when he developed blood clots in his lung, also kept steering my focus on that same track.  I accompany my dear wise one to his daily radiation treatments, although thankfully we have dear friends who offered to do the driving.  

It has been quite a change from my usual multi-tasking.  It’s been another learning experience.  I’ve learned again, that the committees on which I serve can indeed go on if I miss a few meetings. I’ve learned that although I’ve missed some seminars, concerts and grandchildren’s activities, I’ve been able to affirm them and they’ve learned to understand the needs of others sometimes take priority.  I’ve learned that certain things I thought were important are less so when a greater need is present.   I’ve learned to pray on the run for those on my prayer list that I want to continue to remember and I’m sure God hears and understands just as well.   I’ve learned to accommodate our special meal requirements by careful planning.  I’ve also learned that writing is as important to me as those meals, so I squeeze in a few minutes at my computer putting into words thoughts, my feelings, my insights and my prayers. 

         So I thank God for the wider view, but I thank Him also for the well-defined focus.   I learn much from both!

Out on a Limb - Rose McCormick Brandon

 An 84 year-old woman went skydiving to celebrate her birthday. Another octogenarian, bungee jumped off a bridge to mark his 85th^. . These two defied gravity and the ancient voices of their mothers telling them to keep both feet on the ground. They did it to satisfy their youthful desire for adventure. People, who defy their fears and survive to do a follow-up interview, report these experiences as thrilling and liberating. But risk-taking isn’t limited to physical adventure.

One of my acts of bravery began when an article outlined itself in my brain. I had a resume of only two published credits, one in my Bible college yearbook and the other in a writing contest. I put the piece to paper and mailed it to the editor of a faith-based magazine. After dropping the submission in the mailbox, I tortured myself with images of the editor exclaiming, “I’ve never read such rubbish!” A few weeks later, a letter arrived from the magazine saying he intended to publish my work. “Do send more articles on any subject,” he added. My writer’s heart did a joyful leap. I hadn’t parachuted from a tall building onto a trampoline but I’d crawled out on a tiny limb of possibility and – gasp – it held.

 By casting my words on uncertain waters, I’d risked rejection, a thread no one wants to weave into the fabric of their lives. The alternative was to suppress the desire to write, a desire that felt like it came from God. But I wasn’t 100% positive. I had to knock on the publishing door to find out. Fear of rejection can make us dumb when we should speak and glue us to the floor when we should go. This fear whispers negative comments like - you’ll make a fool of yourself, surely others more talented, more connected and more prepared than you should write these articles. If I’d heeded these messages, I would’ve remained chained to my security blanket.

  The need for security is rooted in human nature. We see its influence in the way some responded to Jesus’ call to follow Him. They marveled at His words, recognized His divine authority but when know-it-all Pharisees accused them of being swept off their feet with lies and threatened to excommunicate them; they distanced themselves from Jesus (John 7:45-53). If we step out of our comfort zones criticism will come, and often from unexpected places. People may misunderstand our motives. They may not see value in our goals or they may simply not get us. It’s alright to shed a few tears over rejection because it’s painful but it’s not alright to let a strong need for security dictate our futures.

 The other basic need rooted in our natures is for significance, a sense that our contribution to the big picture matters. If we stay wrapped in our security blankets we invite boredom. Taking risks for worthy reasons add exhilaration to life, much like jumping out of a plane. 

Our relationship with Jesus is meant to fill our need for significance. When it doesn’t we run after other things, searching for something that gives our lives purpose. Or we strive to become the person we believe others want us to be. Both responses lead to what Chandler calls lesser aspirations.

 Many God-called people let God-given ideas lie dormant because they fear rejection. Like those who almost followed Jesus, they retreat to their comfort zones and choose man’s favour over God’s. Daniel tells us that the people who know their God will be strong and do exploits (Daniel 11:32). That doesn’t mean becoming famous and it doesn’t require being the best at what we do, it simply means having the courage to take on the tasks God gives us. That’s how we grow into the people God intends us to become.  

 God is the ultimate story-teller. He’s writing a story in each person’s life. Our pages hum with joy, grief, pain and pleasure but no novel is complete without adventure. The adventure chapters in our stories chronicle the times we’ve chosen significance over security, the times we’ve knocked on strangers’ doors, uncertain whether we’d even come to right address. In her book Conquering Insecurity, Deborah Smith Pegues writes, “There is a passion, a fire that refuses to be quenched when you lock into God’s plan for your life.” ⁽²⁾ For many submitting an article to an editor who may reject it isn’t risky – for me it was and sometimes still is.

I haven’t sky-dived or bungee-jumped (yet) but I suspect taking the plunge helps participants to face challenges in other areas of life. The bottom line for Christ-followers is this: if we don’t risk following wherever He leads, we’ll never know the joy of crawling out on a limb and finding ourselves exactly where God wants us to be. 

             

Rose McCormick Brandon is a frequent contributor to faith magazines, devotionals and compilations, such as Chicken Soup for the Soul. Rose writes, edits and compiles stories of British Home Children at The Promise of Home. She writes on enjoying God and His creation at Listening to My Hair Grow.

Need an Idea? - Peter A. Black

Ideas. Ideas are everything. At least, when you need one, they are. When you have a dilemma, such as when the car breaks down

in the middle of nowhere in the boonies, or somewhere like the middle of an intersection during rush-hour. That’s how I introduced a newspaper article several years ago.



In that piece I wrote about a writer’s need for getting ideas. Generally it’s not too difficult, considering there’s lots happening in the world around us at home and abroad to engage the mind and stir the emotions – whether prompting admiration and appreciation, or provoking angst and anger.


My friend Jan has several website blogs, and sometimes has guest bloggers who write articles for her. These blogs are of an inspirational nature, one of them being dedicated to the subject of prayer (I’ve provided several items for it). On another, she intended posting an item every day, but found that with maintaining these sites and caring for responsibilities in life, it was demanding more time and energy than she felt able to give. Yet, she also felt she was to keep it up.


And so, she prayed, and came up with . . . yes, an idea. She would do a “daily five” – that is, she would write for five minutes on whatever topic came to mind. Some friends were invited to guest-write for it on the same basis. Spelling and grammar didn’t have to be perfect, but of course, it must be done in five minutes.


Her focus still is on the inspirational and spiritual dimension of life, and so far it is working well – a great idea. People are involved and others are visiting the site and reading the blogs, and now Jan has a little more time to be a grandma and tend her gardens, whatever.


The inventor of Dyson vacuum cleaners is portrayed on television commercials informing the world that he looked closely at the basic design of vacuum cleaners of the past 100 years and figured how they could be radically improved. Now his revolutionary designs are

changing that industry.


The late Steve Jobs, founder of Apple computers and all things “i” – iPod, iPhone and iPad, et cetera, was a gifted individual with great imagination and business acumen, and developed revolutionary ideas in the field of cyber-technology, personal computing and portable communication applications. And that story still goes on.


Are you stuck for an idea in your life at the present time? I’m sure many of us would like to hit on an idea that would make us a fortune. But life is often more basic than that.


Is yours a need for working through a difficult situation or relationship with a person at work, or dealing with a troublesome teenager at home, or navigating heaving marital seas, or maybe solving a tricky repair problem around the home, and you’ve no idea how to go about it?


Perhaps you’ve exhausted ideas for finding employment, or are concerned with something deeper, more personal than any of these – you sense your need is spiritual; something’s not sitting right, and you know you need God.


You need an idea . . . where to turn, of whom to turn to? Coming to God in prayer right where you are, humbly depending on His grace, is a great place to start. Ask for wisdom – His idea.


You may need to take thoughtful, careful and deliberate steps when the idea comes.


~~+~~

For further reflection: James 1:5; Proverbs 15:22; Proverbs 16:3


Peter A. Black writes a weekly inspirational column in The Watford Guide-Advocate, and is author of the children's / family book "Parables from the Pond" (Word Alive Press ISBN 1897373-21-X)

My Passion - Eleanor Shepherd

“When you don’t have a clue what to write about, write about your passion.”  This advice to authors running on empty, appeals to me today.  One of my passions, I realized in conversation with friends on Saturday, is work being done to help mothers and children in the developing world.  It is not only because this work is the bread and butter of my husband, Glen and mine also for two days a week.  The efforts to help grab my heart and get me choked up, when I hear about conditions there.  I immediately want to tell everyone about it, so they will engage in this work too.

What is it like in the developing world?  It is filled with ordinary people like you and me, except they had the disadvantage of being born in a part of the world that has not enjoyed the economic prosperity and political liberty we so often take for granted. 

The truth of this hit me again when our daughter offered us a gift of medicines sent to the developing world in our honour, as the Christmas present from her baby daughter, Sanna.   My joy is to go out and buy clothes and toys for our little granddaughter who brings such pleasure to us.  She is our first grandchild and I cannot do enough for her.  If her mother even suggests she could use something, I run off to the store to get it for her. 

The note our daughter gave us with her gift, reminded me again of how fortunate we are.   If Sanna had been born anywhere in the developing world, she may not have made it, and we might have lost her mother as well.  It is so common for mothers to die in childbirth.  Chances are Elizabeth’s elevated blood pressure would never have been diagnosed.  Not having delivered eighteen hours after her water broke, she would likely have suffered from infections, spreading them with Sanna, with no antibiotics to treat them.  Had Sanna weathered all of that stress, emerging with the cord around her neck, would likely have been the end for her.  Today I would be living with grief and loss, instead of gratitude and elation.  These reflections increase my compassion for so many grandmothers in the developing world, who having survived overwhelming odds themselves, are hit with the sorrow of the loss of child and grandchild. 

While these thoughts are sobering, hope keeps me going. The United Nations established Millennium Goals that include the provision of care for women giving birth and for children under the age of five who often die of easily preventable diseases.  They have set specific targets for the reduction of the mortality level of women and children. We are working to see those goals realized.    

Health Partners International of Canada (HPIC) is working with partner agencies to establish a training program for rural medical teams in the developing world so that they can recognize and address some of the high risks in pregnancy, and therefore save the lives of mothers and their babies. 

The nurse, who administers a rural health station, in the developing world often handles many different diagnoses in the course of a day.  She may observe in a child, unique symptoms she has never encountered before.  To help her, HPIC and its partners are producing a pediatric handbook, developed by a doctor who spent his career working in rural Africa.  Hard copies and electronic versions will ensure widespread distribution.  This guide will save the lives of many children. 

The initiative that most excites me is in some senses the simplest, but may well be the most effective.  A kit of basic medical supplies will be available from women in the community who receive a level one training in health care.  They will know how to deal with the most common health problems, arising in the developing world.  The kits will equip them to address these situations.  For examples, we know many of the children who die in the developing world, do so from dehydration brought on by diarrhea.  This can be effectively addressed and cured and children’s lives saved.  Mothers who if they were well nourished would have the strength to deliver their babies will be able to receive vitamin supplements.  None of this is rocket science, but it makes a huge difference in the lives of families in the developing world.             

I love being a mother.  I love being a grandmother.  I want others to share that joy.   Helping make it happen ignites my passion.

Health Partners International of Canada website is www.hpicanada.ca.

Winner of 2011
Word Guild Award
Christian Leadership

Winner of 2009
Award of Merit
Human Interest Article

The Empty Egg/Mann

When I wake up on a Sunday morning, my first thought is always, “It’s Sunday.” That’s all I need to think before a flood of current questions beg recognition. “Church? What will the music be this morning? What scripture will the minister interpret? Will Mrs. H be able to come? Should I take my turn on the roster?” Sometimes, I actually begin to contemplate where we’ll go for lunch after church or if I’ll nip into the county library and pick up a book. By this time, the cat has discovered I’m awake and thinks it’s a good idea to go out and watch the squirrels.

I can honestly say, when I was in pulpit ministry, I didn’t always wake up with such elation, as thoughts of unfinished business from the last session meeting would likely emerge during coffee hour. Perhaps the fire that I was able to put out last week would have begun to smoulder and I would see little licks of flame here and there during the morning. I admit those kinds of thoughts only lived a short time before current happy questions would take over with feelings of anticipation about the day.

Anticipation makes life interesting, prepares us for change and gives us opportunity to see options. Anticipation tells us there is more than what we experience at the moment. It asks us to look over the edge, to listen for the yet to be spoken words, to taste the sweetness of what is to come.

Last Sunday our congregation was invited to renew our baptismal vows, rededicate ourselves, and receive the sign of the cross with prayer. Our family pew empties quickly as we go forward. Later from my seat, I watch through my tears as people that I’ve known since childhood file by — dear men and women who are living a lifetime in service to Christ, helping and caring for one another, being the church in the community, supporting the local missions as well as those places where God is at work in other countries and communities.

As we walk to the car, a friend shows me an empty robin’s nest she’s found on a picnic table. “New life,” she said and smiles at me. “Freedom!” I have the feeling she is talking about herself as much as the baby robin.

Isn’t it precious how everyday things can bring hope and joy when one has been in the presence of God? No religious jargon or theological definitions required – just a willingness to live in the moment and know God is there with you. Look, experience and celebrate. “New life – freedom.” It doesn’t get much better, does it?

Donna Mann
http://www.donnamann.org/

Remembering Ben—Carolyn R. Wilker

Last week, I received the sort of email no one wants to get. I learned of the death of one of my students—a mature student in my Creative writing class at the community centre. Ben had attended both the fall and winter sessions and said at our last class in March that he’d take a break and just do some writing, maybe attend a critique group session. And so his death took me by surprise since I didn’t know he’d been in hospital or even that he had been ill.

Ben was one of those students who keeps a teacher on her toes, in this case it was me. He had been a newspaper man in his prairie town and so he had done a lot of writing—news, social columns, likely obituaries as well. He knew about writing to a deadline, in fact had met many of them working for more than one newspaper. He was a gifted writer with an uncanny wit and keen interest in people and events around him. He asked focused questions on grammar and writing conventions and sometimes offered an explanation on a topic that he knew well.

Ben always entered the room with a smile on his face, did his homework and joined in discussions. He conversed intelligently on many topics that came up in our class and often joked about being the only male in our class; he was glad when another man joined the class the next session, but really, he didn’t seem to mind and went along in his usual good humour.

Unbeknownst to me, he had borrowed my book from the library and asked one day, “Are you C. R. Wilker?” 

When I answered yes, he said he was reading my book. 

“It’s not the kind of book I usually read,” he said, but his curiosity was so great that he wanted to see what it was about.

Another day he asked, "Are you a Christian?" I answered that I am and he seemed satisfied and recalled some detail from my book.

While some students might wonder why he came to class, since he already wrote so well, I think he was there to keep on writing. Sometimes writers do that to keep the words rolling and the pen moving. Then perhaps he also came to the centre to get to know other people in the community that he and his wife had moved to so recently.

When I asked students what they wanted to gain from this class, Ben said that he wanted to learn how to write a short story. I’m not sure if he meant the literary kind or creative nonfiction style. I don’t know whether he felt he had achieved that goal. We shared the stories we wrote in class, and I remember several of his stories about riding on buses and the characters he met on the way. We felt that we were riding with him, seeing the people he wrote about. 

Perhaps this creative writing was an outlet after so many years of tight deadlines with the newspapers.

Ben also loved poetry, I discovered. He shared a poem that he was still working on and asked for our thoughts and ideas. 

Then in evaluations at the last class of the fall term, he was one of the few to sign his form—B.K. He asked for more poetry and time to “hone” it and offered a compliment on my teaching style and ideas for future classes, including “being more critical of work presented in class” to help the students fix and build on what they had written. Wise words.

I learned more about Ben at his memorial service, including his many accomplishments and something of his faith journey. He had written the entire service several years ago and had chosen the hymns, even suggesting how they were to be played.

 I hope that Ben shared some of his stories with his wife and family; reading them now could be comforting, even bringing laughter as they say good-bye, for now, to one they love.

Oh, for just one copy of his story about riding on the bus. I’d treasure that.

Rest in peace, Ben. We’ll remember you in class.