journaling

“I need paper. A life has photosynthesis work to do, spiritual work. It requires paper, fibre of the woods. Ink is the life-sap. Ink bleeding through pulp of tree, ink writing bits of a day, a verse of Scripture, a prayer, words that think themselves poems, so I let them play.
“I journal.”

-          from Ann Voskamp’s blog, A Holy Experience.

I guess I need keyboards, too: computer, piano.

my wailing wall

A couple of weeks ago over lunch, my friend Sherry and I spoke of the things that we grieve in life. I have a creative career that includes lots and lots of music. She has a husband ("the man of all men," she calls him) and three small, energetic, intelligent children. We marvel at one another ... and often long for each other's lives. I told her that not having children is my chronic grief: my wailing wall.

My wailing wall.

Time held its breath and suddenly everything made sense. We agreed that I needed to explore this on my writing retreat.

The first few days were consumed with preparing for studio recording. Then I had a sore throat on recording day and the exertion completely did me in for the last day and a half of retreat, so the new song, "My Wailing Wall," was begun but not even half finished.

Even so, I did a lot of thinking and research about the wailing wall, reading from several angles, especially the Western Wall in Israel and May's wall in The Secret Life of Bees. I dabbled in some musical ideas and even started a different song about Hannah, Samuel's mother. But a song called "My Wailing Wall" was not ready to emerge.

Then something happened a few days later that felt like a crisis, and I spent a full morning anxious and agonizing over many and varied things and pouring it onto several pages in my journal. It was cathartic. It was a form of praying. It sent me to that emotional "wailing wall" that I hadn't been able--or willing--to visit on the retreat.

Today I was aching over that same thing and I heard the Lord whisper, "I want you," but it seemed small comfort at the time.

This evening I turned on my computer, noticed the wailing wall picture on the desktop background, and suddenly understood something else about the wailing wall: it's a place to lean on.

I can just lay my cheek against its cold, rough firmness and rest in knowing that this is a holy place.

Over and over I revisit my aching and grieving. This is my wailing wall. It is a holy place.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is thought by Jews to be the most sacred of places, because the temple itself was thought to be the place where God resides on earth. Praying at the Wailing Wall signifies being in the presence of the Divine. Jews from all countries, and as well as tourists of other religious backgrounds, come to pray at the wall, where it is said one immediately has the “ear of god.” Those who cannot pray at the wall can send prayers or ask for the Kaddish to be said for departed loved ones. Prayers sent in are placed into the cracks of the walls and are called tzetzels. (What is the Wailing Wall?)

North of “Barclay’s Gate” is the well-known Wailing-place of the Jews, a small paved area in front of a portion of the retaining wall which is supposed by some writers to be the nearest point, without the enclosure, to the position of the “Holy of Holies.” (The Wailing-Place of the Jews)

artful adventures

It's been an creative week and a half: developing my own gifts and talents; nurturing and celebrating those of my friends.

Theatre: You Still Can't
Written & directed by Ron Reed
Pacific Theatre
until June 13

Attended the preview with my cousin Amy on Thursday, May 16. Her boyfriend Tim has a main role.

Hilarious. It's a sequel to "You Can't Take It With You" by Ron Reed, but you don't need to see the first play to understand and appreciate this show.



FILM: Pop Switch
Director Jason R. Goode
Annunciation Pictures

On Thursday the 21st, it was an honour to attend the screening of five short films that received significant funding from the Directors Guild of Canada through their Kick Start program.

All of the films were amazing. Very diverse.







ART: Seeing the Saviour
A CIVA traveling exhibition
Regent College Lookout Gallery
until June 3

Regent College consistently brings in high quality art installations. This one does not disappoint. I had my friend's two small daughters with me. Evelyn (4) was immediately drawn to this painting. I was impressed that she knew, without any prompting, that this was the angel telling Mary that she was going to have a baby named Jesus. When I asked what else she say, Evelyn pointed: "I see a cat. And she's having tea."

When Kathleen looked at the promotional card, she noted the peace lilies beside Mary: a common image in Annunciation pictures.

I'm struck by the book on the floor and Mary's hand on her chest: what a shock that experience must have been!

BOOKS: Regent Bookstore

Spent some lovely time on Friday afternoon, browsing the shelves, then sitting down in the atrium with my armload to decide what to buy and what to leave. Came away with some Karl Barth, Wendell Berry, Annie Dillard, Henri Nouwen.

Of course, I had to have one nice cup of coffee at Regent.

BOOK: Ish by Peter Reynolds

If you're feeling unsure of your artistic impulses or if you need help with encouraging the artists in your life, this sweet, simple book is for you.

Thanks to Sherry for introducing it to me.



CONFERENCE: UIW, Burnaby

There so much one person can do in a week and a half, so I didn't actually attend this conference, but I did get to spend some time talking with my friend Duffy Lott Gibb about the two workshops she presented there: "Artists Among Us" and "The Body Ministry."

writing retreat is over

This is my brother’s cottage at La Casa Resort in the Okanagan.

This is the place for our retreat, Kathleen and I.

Not a conference.

Not a workshop.

A private, luxurious, blessed retreat.

This is the deck.

This is a view from the deck. We dipped in the pool and hot tub several times.

This is another view from the deck.

This is Kathleen working on the deck.

We like the deck.

I didn’t take a picture of Kathleen exercising on the deck.

This is the hide-a-bed Kathleen slept on.

Those are the ubiquitous, lemon-coloured tulips on the coffee table.

This is the rest of “the great room” …

… and a view into the kitchen/dining area.

This is me playing the borrowed Casio and singing “Maiden Song” in preparation for studio recording in Kelowna on Tuesday, May 19th.

Eat your heart out Debbie Gibson & Celine Dion!

This is me working on two new (sad) songs after the studio recording goal was accomplished.

Good bye, La Casa! Thank you for a wonderful week of retreat!

p.s. This cottage is available for your vacation! Contact me and I’ll put you in touch with my brother.

ending retreat

The sun shines full in my eyes and wakes me suddenly.

“It is our last day on this mountaintop. Get up, get up there is still so much to do. I have been up a full hour or more all ready lazy one,” he says. “Work, work, there will be no time when you return to the valley. Fill these jars with the ruby red fruit of your labour while the sun is shining.”

I’m grateful to be wakened.

This morning looking down the twisty, turny, suicidal road that brought us here six day ago I notice how it winds uphill and down hill through the desert—hairpin turn here, switchback there. It is longer than it looks, but not so dangerous as it seemed that first night in the dark.

Words, like manna, fell from our fingertips: plentiful, surprising, delightful. We had enough.  
Blessings, Kathleen

thesis: Oral Histories of Women from the Early Days of Briercrest

I learned today that my thesis is available at TREN (Theological Research Exchange Network) … for purchase.

You can also read it online here: www.thesis.homestead.com.

 

Beginning to retreat

I am doing a writing retreat with my friend Kathleen at La Casa resort in BC’s Okanagan. My brother Tom has this cottage and offered it for writing, so I accepted. Kathleen and I came late yesterday evening via a twisting, turning, rather suicidal road we thought might never end! But we survived and arrived to the delightful spot. When I awoke around 8:30 this morning, Kathleen had been up since six and had already written 1300 words about our adventure. I asked her for an excerpt to share with you:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun places its hands on the window frame and leans around the corner peeking through the glass, between the slats of the blinds to see if I am there. Seconds later he leans in close and touches my cheek. “Are you awake?”

“So tired,” I say.

“Go back to sleep, I’ll come back later,” he says, and slips silently away.

It is too late, his touch has stirred me and my mind begins to wander over trails once traveled. He has retreated to a respectful distance but I am awake. He comes no nearer, fearing to tempt me to leave my sleep, but I know he is out there, waiting, and I cannot go back. I have begun to walk down the path of a new day. Words, like manna begin to fall from my fingers, onto the keys, spilling out, filling the page. There will be just so much, enough for the day, no more.

I remember picking wild strawberries with my mom and sisters as a child. The precious little jewels plinking so quietly into the yogurt container. Pinking my fingers and sometimes my lips. We dare not sample too many of the tiny sweet morsels or there will be no jars lining the pantry shelves this winter. The berries are so tiny and rare, there are few who will bother to gather them, but we are joyfully greedy, thankful for both.

Like gathering those berries, this trip was hard won. A series of small but rare and precious events. The Lord says, “I will give you what you need for the day, no more, no less.” Some times it is hard to be satisfied with that. Months ago I decided, once again, to take him seriously and do what he told me to do many years ago. No more buts. Just do what I can. Write when ever, where ever.

Waiting for Zephan at basketball camp, writing for three hours a day for five days, I realize I am a happy person when I do this. I like who I am. That is rare. (The word of the day shall be “rare”, I declare. Yesterday it was prefaced with ‘religiously”. I shall religiously write on this rare occasion.) Usually I do not like who I am. Usually I am not gathering strawberries early in the morning.

When Colleen wrote and told me she had access to this cottage and would I join her for a writing retreat I could not believe it. As God promised, after I agreed to do the job, he would provide the desert and the manna. Our rations consisted of microwave popcorn, a bag of raw quinoa, a bottle of club soda, a box of chocolate, two oranges and two grapefruit. I’m hungry but am I hungry enough to travel that road again so soon? In the valley below the field is full of wild strawberries ready to be picked. The sun is shining, it’s a new day. Yes, I am ready. Let the plinking and pinking begin!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We have since gone shopping. Our pantry is now amply stocked for the next 4.5 days and we have warm blankets for our beds. Let the writing proceed!

co-writing with children

In the notes for my songwriting workshop in Saskatoon I wrote that my cousin Marilou and I co-wrote a piano duet called “Easter Sunrise” and performed it in church when we were very young. In the next paragraph I said “my first real taste of co-writing” happened in Grade 12 at Caronport. Reviewing my notes, I realized how shortsighted this is, devaluing children’s music and creativity. So I corrected it in the workshop, pointing out my adult arrogance. I’ve been co-writing a lot lately with children: nieces, nephews, friends. Not only do we have fun, we compose some pretty significant words and tunes.

I asked the workshop participants to tell their name and their favourite song (lately). Florence couldn’t think of any popular songs, but recalled the little tunes her daughters used to make up and sang one for us that stays with her years later.

Jeremy (eight) takes “musical play” lessons with me. We do a wide variety of activities without studying anything in particular. We started out doing rhythm and fun little songs. One day he asked about the names of notes on a staff, so I got a workbook and we focused on that for a few weeks. The workbook had little stories about composers, which we read, and I gave Jeremy assignments from them, such as looking up the instruments one composer played before he was 11. Jeremy looked up the pipe organ, harpsichord, violin and oboe, printed off the pictures (even some Wikipedia articles) and taped them into his music binder. We discovered Jeremy’s passion for pipe organs and indulged that for awhile. For the past 3 weeks we have been working on a song about the seasons. Today he took paper and pencil and worked very hard at the lyrics and structure. I wasn’t allowed to play that song until he was ready, and when I did play it, he had strong arrangement ideas. Delightful and a bit surprising.

On Sunday evening I sang at the Mother’s Day banquet at Arlington Beach. One song on my set list was co-written with my cousin’s daughter Keisha (who calls me “auntie”). Sunday morning I was in Saskatoon and sang the song for my friend Janina and her girls and they inspired verse two.

Every morning when I go to school
My mommy hugs me and she kisses me, too
She says, “I love you” and I say, “I love you, too.” (repeat)

Then she tells me, “Have a good day.”
And I say, “I will.” (repeat)

Every morning when he goes to work
My daddy hugs me and he kisses me, too
He says, “I love you” and I say, “I love you, too.” (repeat)

Then he tells me, “Have a good day.”
And I say, “I will.” (repeat)

He has come to save you

This weekend I hosted two wonderful women for an art retreat. Andria and Vivien, students at Briercrest College & Seminary, spend 36 hours carving clay, painting pictures, telling stories, singing songs, sharing delicious food, and savouring beauty. Before they left we prayed together and Vivien sang a song for me:

Say to those who are fearful hearted

Do not be afraid

The Lord your God is strong with his mighty arm

When you call on his name, he has come to save.

He has come to save you

He has come to save you

Say to the weary one, “Your God will surely come.”

He has come to save you

He has come to save you

He has come to save you

Lift up your eyes to Him, you will arise again

He has come to save you

Significantly, she changed the words from future tense (“He will come and save you”) to present perfect (“He has come to save you”). The Lord has been speaking to fears in my own life, and he has also called me to this kind of ministry, speaking peace and rest to the fearful and weary. God is not just coming in the future, He is an ever-present God in the now. We declare that the kingdom of God is HERE!