When Ink Drips and Camera Clicks

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I put my pen to journal and begin to write, I see an oriole outside my window and I grab my camera.  I click to capture the moment and return to my writing.

With my mind and emotions wrapped up in so much lately, I finally feel my soul return to its rightful place.

The uneasiness began last week with a phone call.  It was a peaceful day, we were enjoying the sunshine, the newness of spring and Bob’s cancer wasn’t in our thoughts.

My husband doesn’t let it define him and as I walk this journey beside him I won’t let it define me either.

We go on, not thinking much about it, finding joy in the simple things.  Then reality breaks through and we must face it once again.

Bob’s cell phone rang while we were having lunch at a small cafe.

“The Leukemia markers have increased a little in your blood,”  came the words over the phone.

“It looks like you may need another bone marrow biopsy but we’ll check again in a few months.  For now, just stay on the chemo med and we’ll explore further at your next visit.”

I study Bob’s expression, watch him for a few days.  He remains strong, steadfast (at least outwardly) and is hopeful that the markers will go down again, if not with the medication he’s taking now, then with another one.

My heart and prayers surround him and if there’s any way to test the oneness in marriage and to experience it at a deeper level it’s in times like this.

So together we wait, pray and wonder.

This past year has been like a roller coaster ride through the steep upward climbs and the wild racing down and then back up through the twists and turns of this crazy journey of medical tests and doctor visits.

After the latest blood test results, the what ifs, the uncertainty, fearful thoughts, the all-consuming questions race through me.

I get stuck there for a couple of days.

But today I grabbed my pen, my journal and a hot cup of coffee.

Here I sit writing my prayers, my thoughts, my dreams for me; for us.

One by one I write out the gifts that I’ve been given in life.

Not just the big ones like God, faith, family, friends, provision…those are obviously important but I’m recalling and writing down the little things today.

I’m focusing on all those small miracles that we often overlook and how in the overlooking we forfeit great joy.  It’s the simple pleasures in life that surprise us with the greatest joy.

So my focus shifts from the what ifs and fearful thoughts to being present in the moment and enjoying the gifts God has for me today…a gentle breeze blowing through an open window, waking up to the orioles singing on my deck,  spring flowers popping up all over my yard, the patter of rain on my rooftop, the sunshine poking through tree branches after the rain, barren branches finally sprouting leaves, the smell of coffee brewing and sugar cookies baking, the wonder in a child’s eyes, a child’s laughter, singing, praying, the sunsets… and on and on the list goes.

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Gifts.

And when we give thanks for all the little pleasures surrounding us our eyes open to glimpses of God’s glory everywhere.

Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever.  Psalm 107:1

Even in the midst of this crazy, mixed up, messy, often painful world there is beauty and grace that moves us into thankfulness and being thankful produces joy.

The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and he helps me. My heart leaps for joy, and with my song I praise him.  Psalm 28:7

We can’t give thanks and be fearful, angry or miserable at the same time.  A thankful heart doesn’t have room for that.

Daily we need to find those peaceful places where our bodies, minds, souls can rest.  At least I do.

I’m an introvert.  I thrive and recharge by being alone.

There’s been a flurry of activity surrounding my life lately and unless I can escape into moments of solitude I’m a wreck and when I’m a wreck I can’t fully be there for my loved ones and those I deeply care about.

This introvert finds solace and peace through being alone with her thoughts, her God and her journal.

I not only find peace as my pen drips ink into words on journal pages, I’m also drawn to give thanks through savoring moments with a click of my camera.

Both are gifts.

Whether I’m recording through words or photos, I’m drawn into the presence and wonder of God and, for me, that has become an act of worship.

…whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things…and the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:8-9)

Blessings to you and yours,

Nancy

Do what you love, love what you do and always remember why you do it

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When I was younger, I always dreamed of writing.  I couldn’t deny the desire that I had to put pen to paper.  I filled many journals and as my faith grew so did the desire.

Writing isn’t something that I picked.  It picked me.

Delight yourself in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.        Psalm 37:4

I can’t take credit for the desire either.  It came alive around the same time that my faith awakened. Words became my gift and as my soul reached higher that truth became brighter.

Writing wasn’t like deciding to go to the garden and pick a flower.

Oh, that is pretty.  I think I’ll pick that one.

No, the desire was firmly planted within me.

It was gently formed somewhere deep in those dark places where nobody else sees and it germinated, took root, grew and eventually blossomed.

God planted it, he watered it–like the dark earth of the soil that protects a seed or bulb until it’s ready to spring up–he protected the desire to write in me and when the conditions were just right it slowly unearthed.  Then he taught me how to nurture and care for my gift.

My very first article submission to a magazine was surprisingly accepted.  That had its advantages and disadvantages.  The advantage was that it confirmed to me that I was on the right track and writing was my calling.

I began a professional relationship with the editor that liked my writing voice and accepted most of my work.  If a piece that I wrote didn’t fit an upcoming publication, he’d make suggestions for revisions and I’d edit it and send it back for his approval.

The disadvantage of that initial accepted article and editorial relationship was that I thought it would always be that easy.  It was not.

That editor of that magazine eventually left his position, the magazine took a different direction and I was left writing and submitting to other publications.

Submissions, rejections, more submissions and once in a while an acceptance letter but, for the most part, it became a chore and I lost the spark.

The desire to write evaporated as I became more engrossed in the end result rather than enjoying the process.  As a result, for several years, I left the writing scene for other pastures.

In those other pastures, I found good things to do but sometimes good things aren’t always the best.

Something always felt missing and I tried to fill it with other work but, at the same time, I felt a tugging, a nudging, a calling back to where my gift was sown.

During those years in other pastures, I kept my pen and journal by my side.  I still jotted down personal entries, ideas and wrote poetry occasionally for a mission’s publications but that was about the extent of my writing.

In those other pastures where I roamed and where I ignored the calling back, I often rationalized it with thoughts like–but I’m not as good as that writer over there.  Their gift blooms more spectacular than mine.  As I played the comparison game, I stayed stuck right where I was. 

Most of us know what comparing ourselves to others will do and you don’t have to be a writer to experience it.

It’s like a thief in the night that digs into the rich soil of our hearts and tries to rip out the seeds that God has planted.  Tries is the key word here.  It can’t happen unless we allow it.

When we’re too busy examining others’ gifts we neglect our own.  Our soil becomes barren.

Even in the darkness when we can’t visualize the flower it is right there beneath the surface ready to bloom like a flower ready to emerge in the springtime.

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Once it blooms, we must care for it but we can’t do that when we’re roaming in other fields or pastures that look greener.

Eventually I listened to the voice calling me back and I started writing again–just for the sake of writing.  Now I write for an audience of ONE.  The ONE who planted the desire in me.

When I started to nurture and care for the gift that I was given instead of comparing my gift to others my passion returned.

It’s not about publication.  It’s about doing what I was born to do.  There’s joy, freedom and release in that.

Just try to bust yourself gently of the fantasy that publication will heal you, will fill the Swiss cheesy holes. It won’t, it can’t. But writing can. So can singing.                       Anne Lamott

I love that quote by Anne.  I might add–the likes, the comments, the applause, the stats, the followers you receive will never fill those Swiss cheesy holes either.  Only God can do that and a beautiful way to find wholeness is by using the gifts you you’re designed to use.

Just do it and always remember why you do it.

Blessings,

Nancy Janiga  ❤