I've always loved the month of October. Today, the weather is cooler, the hurricanes blown out to sea.~Journal Entry, October 1, 2025
Sometimes we take risks to say what nobody really wants to talk about. I watched this 21-minute video on YouTube where the late Eugene Peterson (Author of The Message Bible) speaks with Bono (of U2) about their connection with the Psalms, the joy and pain of life, and how the Bible speaks to both dynamics. Each of them challenge Christian artists to speak of both the truth of light and dark in their work. If you have the bandwidth to watch this clip, you will be touched and inspired, even if only to see the vibrant joy in Eugene Peterson's smile. The video moved me to write about the beauty and merciful truth that Jesus holds both our pain and our joy. Interview With Eugene Peterson and Bono
I think of these last weeks. A train of anxiety, a high-pitched whistling clattering through my life. My body reacting in ways I hadn't expected, having held trauma for too long. The syncopation of my heartbeat too rapid, not to be ignored. My mind frozen in tracks of panic. I needed help, my hands over my ears to stifle the trumpeting train, too close, too loud.
God's mercy ever tangible, He led me to a counselor who is conducting a new therapy with me called ART (Accelerated Resolution Therapy). With the direction of the Holy Spirit, in conjunction with the skills of the therapist, I am moving forward, the anxiety now more like the sound of a distant train.
God is good to hear our cries, even in the silence of breathlessness and panic. He is faithful to recreate neural pathways, blowing the hurricane of anxiety out to sea.
Like Peterson and Bono, my mind is transforming into a fusion of Psalms, this particular book a refuge for confronting the joy and pain of life. Yet the distant train is not a horrible sound, but rather a comfort and a symbol that the anxous thoughts are subsiding, fading like the beating of a bird's wings that quieten to a soft flutter as the creature disappears into a morning sky. A speck.
For you God have put my life back together.~Psalm 4:8 (The Message)
You probe for our soft spots, you knock off our rough edges. And I'm feeling so fit, so safe, made right, kept right.~Psalm 7:10 (The Message)
A Blessing (From Lectio 365, September 9. 2025
May the Son whose story is a mirror of your own,
Who has journeyed into darkness to find a key to your prison.
Who has dived the deepest oceans to find pearls for your wisdom.
Who has looked into your heart and found a beauty worth the battle,
Who has written your name on a white stone carved in secret.
Hold you.
At times, step away from your instrument to hear clearly.~Stephan Moccio
Recently, I conducted a teaching at my writing group. Here is my outline that I thought may be helpful to you as you move forward in your creative pursuits...
Over these last weeks, I've been intrigued by the concept of sounds that we convey in our writing. First a reading from The Sacred Journey, A Memoir of Early Days by Frederick Buechner.
I wrote these words at home on a hot, hazy summer day. On the wall behind me, an old banjo clock was tick-tocking the time away. Outside I could hear the twitter of swallows as they swooped in and out of the eaves of the barn. Every once in a while, in the distance, a rooster crowed, though it was well past sunup. Several rooms away, in another part of the house, two men were doing some carpentry. I could not make out what they were saying, but I was aware of the low rumble of their voices, the muffled sounds of their hammers, and the uneven lengths of silence in between. It was getting on toward noon, and from time to time my stomach growled as it went about its own obscure business which I neither understand nor want to. They were all of them random sounds, without any apparent purpose or meaning, and yet as I paused to listen to them, I found myself hearing them with something more than just my ears to the point where they became in some way enormously meaningful. The swallows, the rooster, the workmen, my stomach, all with their elusive rhythms, their harmonies and disharmonies and counter point, became, as I listened, the sound of my own life speaking to me. Never had I heard just such a coming together of sounds before, and it is unlikely that I will ever hear them in just the same combination again.Their music was unique and unrepeatable and beyond describing in its freshness...And yet as I listened to those sounds, and listened with something more than just my hearing, I was moved by their inexpressible eloquence and suggestiveness, by the sense I had that they were a music rising up out of the mystery of not just my life, but of life itself. In much the same way, that is what I mean by saying that God speaks into or out of the thick of our days.
Here are a few questions I'm curious to ask you.
What are your favorite sounds?
What sounds are associated with your writing?
If you attached a soundtrack to your writing, what would it be?
Perhaps God is like a great composer who spends part of His time creating soundtracks for everyone. In other words, this good Father, only light-filled, devoid of darkness, adores to compose soundtracks fitting to each person on earth. And His soundtracks for people are filled with His light and musicality. Perhaps we are attracted to the light because we hear the soundtrack of who we are.~From my blog post, The Sound Of Light, Oct 21, 2017
What are the sounds of God for you personally? Do you pair His ways and attributes with a particular sound--grace, wisdom, peace, sanctification, victory, repentance, love, forgiveness, abundance, comfort?
The neurological condition that causes people to "hear" colors is called sound-color synesthesia, a form of synesthesia where sounds trigger the involuntary experience of seeing colors. This is not a disorder, but a neurological condition where sensory pathways in the brain become "cross-wired," leading to a consistent and automatic sensory experience.
What colors might the sound of your writing inspire?
A writing exercise to consider for increasing the gift of sound in your writing:
For five consecutive days, be aware of sounds that you notice and document them. After five days, review your notes and write 200 words in any genre you choose, incorporating all or some of the sounds you documented.
Bring your work to our next session to read aloud.
A Blessing For Continued Inspiration:
The amazing grace of the Master, Jesus Christ, the extravagant love of God, the intimate friendship of the Holy Spirit, be with all of you.~II Corinthians 13:14 (The Message)
Above all, never question the truth beyond all understanding and surpassing all other wonders that in the long run nothing, not even the world, not even ourselves, can separate us forever from that last and deepest love that glimmers in our dusk like a pearl, like a face.~Frederick Buechner (From The Sacred Journey)
Today is the twenty-fourth remembrance of 9/11--that traumatic day in 2001 when the Twin Towers were attacked by terrorists in New York City. When we watched in disbelief as the structures crumpled. It felt like a movie, but it was our reality. That day, I heard the news just as I was leaving a doctor's appointment with the good report and relief that a lump in my breast had dissolved and I did not have cancer. The day before, September 10, 2001, my husband had been in New York City near the vicinity of the towers. Only a day later he might have been killed. Mercy and horror. What do we make of this counterintuitive brew?
Then just yesterday Charlie Kirk,31, Turning Point USA co-founder, was assassinated during a rally held at Utah Valley University. I'd watched him on YouTube several times fielding questions from college students as he traveled around to different campuses in the United States. He invited people who opposed his views to sound their voices. His communication style was direct and respectful. He spoke not only of his political views, but also of his deeply held faith in Jesus Christ. He was married and had two small children, both under four. A little boy and a little girl. He said what he most wanted to be known for at his death was his faith.
I feel tremendous sadness today--for Charlie, for his wife and children, for the country. There is so much division and hate and violence. What is my response? I have a small patch of acreage here on the internet. I have sixty-two followers. I don't know most of you, don't know your political leanings, your race, your faith in God or lack of it. But one thing I've always attempted to proclaim here in my small parcel of the internet is that God is good. He honors free will. He loves the world and sent His son to die for our sins. And then Jesus rose from the grave to conquer death once and for all. If you are struggling now to know what to do in light of all the bedlam and bloodshed, turn to Jesus. Declare your need for Him to forgive you and receive His life. Everlasting life. The gospel of Jesus is the best and only answer for all of us. Jesus is that last and deepest love that glimmers in our dusk like a pearl, like a face. And if you know Him already, turn to Him anew. He is never wearied in seeing you approach, never tires of hearing your voice.
Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.~Romans 8:28 (The Message Bible)
Jesus says, "My yoke is easy;" the word "easy" comes from the Greek chrestos, meaning "well-fitting." In Jesus' day a carpenter would carefully craft a bespoke wooden yoke for each ox--it served as a harness for animals used in farming. Each individual yoke was made to fit comfortably. ~ From Lectio 365, September 24, 2025
I'd never thought of the yoke that Jesus talks about in Matthew 11:28-30 as being custom-made. I'd always had a more negative association with the word yoke, doubting the reality of "easy." However, the concept of "bespoke" brought a different insight. I've wished I could have "bespoke" clothing tailored for me. My legs and arms are short. Often, cuffs hang down to the middle of my hands. Pants pool in layers of material below my toes (although my granddaughter says that this pooling at the feet is now quite fasionable).
Isn't it just like the Lord to make a custom yoke for us, especially as we face life's uncertainties, the battles of our age waging against light and darkness?
We can be confident that these yokes are fashioned with our gifting, our needs and the longings of our hearts in mind. The Lord desires for us to be mighty in battle. We need to be yoked to His strength, widsom and joy for such a time as this. In the late afternoon, the day I read the Lectio 365 entry, I began to swoon from the fatigue of the day--the tasks, and the disheartening feelings and sadness from current events. I realized, though, that my house was filled with light filtering through the windows. I was so engaged with shadow patterns created on the walls and the shimmering warmth of an oil painting glinting in all that luminosity, that I began taking pictures. The day before, I'd found a song I liked entitled, "Golden Hour." When I looked up the lyrics on YouTube, the words reflected the beauty of young love. I realized I still feel that way about my husband. The Lord strengthened me with the bespoke images, the light, and the love I feel for my husband. Jesus knows us, understand us, and says, "Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light." (From The Living Bible)
So may God
The Faithful Father
God the scarred Son
God the sculpting Spirit
Journey With You ~ From Lectio 365, September 21, 2025
I don't feel particularly focused today.~Journal entry, August 13, 2025
I'm about to go meet my husband in Italy soon. I realize that looking toward travel brings a need to be more alert, to notice things more aptly. I won't have the comfort of my mother tongue, so must sharpen my focus on foreign words, foreign signs. I must rev up my trust in God, walk toward my opposite from anxiousness to following the clear-voiced command from God not to fear. I couldn't quite get any words around an essay to write, so turned to poetry, rather an unfamiliar communication style, not unlike my limited Italian. Another author, Ericka Clay, has encouraged me to start trying my hand at poetry. You will love her work at erickaclay.com. She is a talented, prolific writer and Christ follower. She even offers many of her books for free.
Here's my go at encapsulating my thoughts and feelings in a different genre. Thank you dear readers for being here. I appreciate you.
CONTRAST
Unfocused.
My vision blurred.
Some days I'm comfortable allowing the indistinct, the myopic perspective.
I don't want details.
Let me relax inside the indefinite, the sketch.
Yet this place has me trapped with its invisible edges.
I crave sharpness, the fine dark relief of your pen outlining my heart.
I don't want the obstruction of tears.
I need the contrast of clear-eyed vision.
Permit me to see beyond the mist, view the mountain in the distance.
Help me ascend.
I'll grip that vintage, torn map and trace the curved route with my fingertip upward to you.
I'll move from the shadows into the sunlight.
For without you, there is not even the contours of the trees in my line of sight.
Without you it is midnight.