2016 12 17 Holiday Essay: A While Ago December 17, 2016

I wrote a poem a while ago. This poem really jumped out and grabbed me by surprise, for it was the first of this kind of writing I had ever attempted. It was a Christmas poem, and now I find myself, all these years later, thinking about it and feeling a little sad that I can’t read it word for word today. As a lot of you know, Christmas poems are some of my favorite poems that I have ever written. There’s just something about them that have a way of enticing the child inside to gather up my things and bring the past ahead to greet my day, today. I suppose that I’m not unlike a lot of other writers who experience these same feelings over the holidays.

The poem was about three wise men that were making their journey towards a star in the sky. They made their way, not knowing why they did, not knowing what was in store for them, and not worrying about anything other than reaching the end of their journey, for it was a special journey indeed. The issues of their day didn’t matter. The barriers, obstacles, opposing points of view didn’t matter to them in the least. All that mattered, all that made sense, all that drove them forward was the thing that none of them could put a finger on, other than knowing that it was the most important ingredient of their day, of any day.

As I wrote this poem, I became part of the story. I walked beside these amazing men on an amazing journey to an amazing place where pure amazement was to take place. I found myself not caring about any of the things in my life that mattered, except the importance of the piece. I didn’t have to think what to write. I didn’t have to think of where the story was going. I didn’t have to think of how the story came to be, or how the story came to me. All I had to do, was write an incredible story that was taking place right before my very eyes.

A short while after writing the poem, it vanished into thin digital air.

I have suffered through my share of moments where I have lost a piece that I have written. Usually it was due to user error, so I never had to worry about blaming anyone but me. Yes, I would cringe, scowl, sulk, raise my voice in anger and tell myself that I will never ever have something so unfortunate happen again, but it has, and it will continue to, for you see, to make mistakes is a human characteristic that brings to light the reason for the gift awaiting those same three wise men.

I love writing no more than when a writing piece takes on a life of its own. I love writing no more than when each time I read a piece, it’s as if someone else wrote it. I love writing no more than when the words explode onto the screen. I love writing no more than when I realize just how much I love to write.

Christmas for me is a time to write. It’s a time to rejoice those feelings I have carried with me from my childhood. It’s a time to reflect on and realize the importance of so many simple things. It’s a time for us all to take a step back and notice all of the things that we should feel grateful for.

I remember a poem from a few years ago that helped me take notice of a special journey that three men made so many years ago. There was a star born in the sky one night that pulled them towards a magical moment born unto a manger. How did they know? How could they know? How wise were they? How much knowledge did they gain from their journey? Do the books really give a fitting description of just how amazing this all was? Was I able to capture the essence of the moment in the words I wrote? Has anyone ever found a way to sufficiently depict the magnificence with their scripted words?

I would give so much to be able to have that poem to read today, but I suppose that I should look at it as an opportunity, an experience that was meant for me.

I lost a poem I wrote a while ago. It remains a special poem to me. I am so very happy and fortunate that through the eyes of the miracle, this poem has found a way to find me once again.

2014 02 08 Blessed February 8, 2015

Blessed

I’m blessed, or at least I feel that I am blessed, but how can I really tell? How would I know the difference? How on earth would I know blessed from unblessed? Is unblessed a word, and if it is, does it mean what I want it to mean? Am I rambling through the brambles like a billy goat usually does?

Back on track, or close enough to count, I truly feel blessed, and I’m not ashamed to say that some days I overlook those things that I should always recognize as blessings. It’s fairly easy to do you know. I mean, with all the commotion that some days have a tendency to shovel at us, it’s normal to forget the simple things in our lives as we are totally consumed with an abundant amount of things we call life. Coming at us this way, and that, we forget as we remember, and then we remember the things that we sometimes forget. Add it all up, and the blessings are endless, infinite.

I was talking with my folks this morning on the phone, and I told them how grateful that I was for having crossed paths with such an incredible amount of inspiration within the blind community. I told them how blessed I am with having such an amazing family. They both responded with similar feelings, and as we reminisced over the past, the feelings inside rose like a Quoddy tide, completely consuming my emotions with love, faith and hope. I then realized how these three things can get the human heart through almost any obstacle, any situation, any detour or road block or happenstance that can cause a spirited soul to stray off course.

I am blessed. This I know, and as I believe it I live it.

My mom said that with all of the situations out there, with all of the compelling stories of personal woe and torment, she felt extremely fortunate that for the most part, our immediate family made it through the years relatively healthy, and as we have grown older, we are still all together, as a family. Through the years, we have grown closer, even though the miles have pulled us further apart. Home truly is where the heart is, and our hearts are all clustered together, as one, strengthening our ability to overcome, to endure, to absorb, adapt and advance our way, together.

There are many different ways that the blessings in my life take shape. I am blessed that I am able to pray to a God every day of my life. I am blessed with support, with guidance, with opportunities abound, and as I recognize them, I am blessed with insight and strength to live the experiences and learn from the outcomes. I might be blind, but I am blessed with vision, with sight that for the most part had always remained unseen.

As the darkness of 2010 closed in on me, a light from inside grew. I’m sure that I have only scratched the surface of this light, but I suppose that recognizing its existence is a huge step towards each new chapter of my life.

I am blessed, and for that I give thanks. With the blessings comes inspiration, which until a few years ago, also remained for the most part, unseen and unnoticed. Taking notice of inspiration was very important for me, but being able to take it and utilize it to better myself is something completely different. As a child, I was always trying to catch up to my siblings, for it was they who were doing the inspiring. I idolized them all, and with an open mind and heart, I soaked up as much from them as I could, without even knowing it.

As we all learned from our parents, so have I learned from others I have crossed paths with. The family of the blind community has been alive and well long before I took my first steps, and it will remain vibrant long after I’ve taken my last breath. This amazing collection of inspiration has cascaded down into my life and shown that no matter how insurmountable, no matter how bleak, no matter how hopeless it seems, there are those who have gone through the same, lived through the same, grown up and through and out of the relentless grips of despair and pulled together as one to rise and live life to the fullest, taking advantage of, here we go again, those opportunities that disguise themselves as barriers.

I am who I am because of what I have become, and with a pinch of this and a dash of that, my ingredients, if mixed and blended correctly, will continue to offer up what I hope is some of the same as I have been handed. Passing it on, so to speak, is life, never ending. Paying it forward is a privilege, and for myself, is an obligation I hope that each of us takes pride in taking part in.

I am blessed, and for that, I give thanks to everything involved.

Blessed are those who live, who love, who learn and who give back what they have themselves been given.

Have an amazingly incredible day.

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014 06 22 Blog Tour: Bruce Atchison June 22, 2014

Hello Readers and Happy Summer.

Last week, I posted some informations and answers that promoted a Blog Tour which described my writing process. I promoted a couple links to a few other writer’s blogs that I know. The following post is a re-post from a friend of mine’s blog. His name is Bruce Atchison, and he has also given a brief bio, plus answers to the writing process questions.

Thanks for dropping by, and thanks to Bruce for taking part in the writer’s process, and the Blog Tour 2014. Have a great day, and here we go!

***

Bio:

Bruce Atchison is a legally-blind Canadian freelance writer with articles published in a variety of magazines. He has also authored these three paperbacks:
“When a Man Loves a Rabbit: Learning and Living with Bunnies” is a memoir of the surprising facts he discovered about house rabbits.
“Deliverance from Jericho: Six Years in a Blind School” is his
recollection of being sent five hundred miles from home for months at a stretch.
“How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity” shows how God led Atchison out of a legalistic house church.

You can contact Bruce at batchison@mcsnet.ca
Also via Facebook or Twitter.
Bruce also posts regularly on his blog sites at the following addresses:

http://www.bruceatchison.blogspot.com and:
http://www.bruceatchison.wordpress.com

Atchison lives in a tiny Alberta hamlet with his house rabbit, Deborah.

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Bruce Atchison WRITING PROCESS – BLOG TOUR

Thanks to Traci Macdonald for letting me be a part of this blog tour. It’s my first time at this so please be lenient with me if I mess up. Thanks.

1) What am I working on?

At the moment, I’m promoting my most recent book called How I Was Razed: A Journey from Cultism to Christianity. As the subtitle suggests, it’s my testimony of being in a toxic house church and how God led me providentially to the correct understanding of himself as well as the Bible. Because nobody mentored me, I knew nothing about dangerous false gospels. No one invited me to church either. I found my spiritual nourishment through radio shows, particularly The World Tomorrow. When a friend finally did invite me to a Bible study, it was led by a self-proclaimed prophet with decidedly unorthodox views of Scripture. Now I want to warn naive believers away from the false gospels which the apostle Paul spoke of in Galatians 1:6-9.

2) How does my work differ from others of its genre?

Instead of a didactic exposition of the wrong doctrines I learned and the correct ones biblically-literate teachers taught me, I believed that showing how I was deceived and then corrected would be a better way to instruct people. Unfortunately, various apologetics radio hosts and teachers didn’t help me promote my testimony. Neither have many Christians expressed interest in my story.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I’ve always liked telling stories. As a boy, I couldn’t play sports with the others due to my poor vision. So I ended up telling funny stories to the girls at recess. I love the process of converting ideas into articles, reviews, and stories. Fiction is particularly exciting for me since I can let my imagination loose. It saves a lot of research work.

4) How does your writing process work?

I usually get an idea and let it ferment in my mind. If it seems exciting enough to write about, I type a rough draft on my PC. Then I listen to my screen reader speak what I’ve written aloud and make corrections as needed. Once I’ve used the spell check function and made it as cohesive as I can, I submit it to a publisher or upload it to my blog. I also query editors before I write articles so I won’t have a great bit of prose with nowhere to send it.

On June 30, I hope to have Ruth Snider, a member of the InScribe Writers Group, with her replies to the questions for this blog tour. Ruth L. Snyder was privileged to spend the first 10 years of her life in southern Africa where her parents served as missionaries. From there her family moved to Canada, settling in Three Hills, Alberta. Ruth enjoyed her years as a “staff kid” at Prairie and is grateful for the biblical grounding she received there. She now resides close to Glendon (the pyrogy capital of Alberta, Canada) with her husband and five young children. Ruth enjoys writing articles, devotionals, short stories, and Christian fiction. She is a member of The Word Guild and The Christian PEN. Ruth currently serves as the President of InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship.

On July 6th, I hope to have Michael B. Birtchet’s answers here. Mike is a musician living in Portland Oregon. He also is the author of Slow Time, a science fiction novel. I don’t have the link for his book at this time but I’ll be sure to put it here next week.

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2013 09 22 Higher Powered September 22, 2013

A friend of mine started a blog the other day, and parts of their first few posts have included their relationship with God. What a wonderful way to start a new blog.

 

You can find there new blog at the following link:

http://www.wwannwrites.wordpress.com

 

I have never thought of myself as a real religious person, but then again, I have probably compared myself, religiously speaking,  to those who you see preaching and trying to convert others all the time. That’s not for me and it more than likely never will be.

 

I believe in a higher power. I choose to call that higher power God. I have always believed in God. Even though I had never seen his form, I still believed in Him and still do to this day. I believe that the beauty I see in each day is a gift from God. I believe that we all have the ability and right to believe in Him, or any other form of what we choose to conceive and believe in. It’s a wonderful right that we all have, and it is a gift that we hopefully will all take part in some day.

 

I also believe that if we choose, we do not have to believe in a higher power. If we choose not to, it is our right and no one should tell us other wise. I understand that some of those who believe will always try to make believers out of those who don’t, and vice versa. It’s common human nature to try and influence others to grab hold of your own beliefs, in religious ways, as well as in other ways concerning other things. It’s what we do and it’s who we are. In order for us to feel more involved with our own beliefs, some of us need to have others around us believe in the same sorts of things, whether they be loyalty to a sports team, love of a certain automobile, fanciful fetishes of fine cuisines, or what we feel is the Creator of everything that is. Human conformity is what helps keep the passion in our hearts and the purpose in our strides.

 

I believe in God. I always have. I don’t know what He looks like, or sounds like, but I know what He feels like, and it is wonderful. I have prayed before and felt the gentle touch of His hand on my shoulder. I have felt Him pick me up and show me which way to go. I said that I don’t know what He sounds like, but I have felt His soothing voice run through my body and soul, taking the innocence of a young child inside by the hand, taking the scared, wandering young man by the hand, taking the lost, pleading billy goat by the hand and showing him the way to go.

 

I don’t have anything against those who don’t believe in God. I don’t hate or dislike or look down on or make fun of their decisions. I can only tell them how important my God is to me, and hope that something in their lives turns them around the corner and right into His arms.

 

There have been times in my life when I wasn’t too sure if God was on my side. I never doubted His existence, but there were times when I wasn’t sure if he was looking out for me. Things just didn’t go well at times, and yes, there were those lowly moments when I actually felt like I had to blame Him for what was going on with my life. It’s not a very good moment when we are willing to make a deal with the devil himself to avoid life’s trials and tests. Such was how it was when I lost my vision. I was alone, lost, crying inside, scattered amongst my bitter thoughts, and there wasn’t much I wouldn’t have done to get my vision back.

 

I have prayed so much since then, and I have been answered with the simple truth to all my prayers. I believe now that I lost my vision so that I might be able to learn how to see. One for the other, this for that, true vision for misguided views. My sight was replaced with an inner vision that I have gained. I am still learning what it is that I’m looking at, but with His divine guidance, along with inspiration from others who have slid into my life, I will understand what it is that I am supposed to see. So far, it has been a look through my past, my heart, and my soul, taking me through the visions of yesterday and hopefully preparing me for the visions of tomorrow.

 

I believe in God, and I welcome you and all your beliefs. With one sun, one moon, one world full of individual desires, we may all be heading in the same direction and not even know it. We may all be learning the same things, just in our own unique time and place. We may all have the same chartered destinations, and we may all have the same goals in mind, but no matter what, we will all see to it in our own time, with our  own beliefs, in our own chosen ways.

 

I have prayed, I have cried, I have fallen to my knees in front of my God. I have told Him that I am sorry for my sins. I have felt His soothing, calming hand upon my soul. I listen for guidance and walk towards tomorrow beside my God.

 

May God bless you all and have a wicked good day.