Joy Takes Wing

    If not for Grandma day with Ren, I might have missed the birds. I had noticed them, even just from the shadows where the sun touched the bedroom floor--birds, masses of them circling. But I would not have stayed outside to watch them if Ren had not been here, painting rocks with water by our fountain. Because I was with Ren, I didn't feel guilty wasting time watching birds. I always enjoy those times when they fly from tree to tree and speculate about who is in charge of the spectacle. Even after Ren left, I sat outside watching and wrote the following on my phone.               

Joy Takes Wing

With a fluttering of wings

like sheets snapping in the wind,

 the birds wheel from tree to tree.

 I, who watch them from below,

 wondering, would seek to know

 who tells them where

 and when to move?

 Savior, is it you?

 

 Whatever shelter there may be

 upon the branches of the tree

 lasts but a moment, then they flee.

 And though I do not understand

 the purpose in their hectic plan,

 I cannot tear myself away.

 Perhaps, Lord, nor can you.

  

Some, with scientific words

 like murmuration, say the birds

 are safer in great numbers.

 But most admit their ignorance

 of why sometimes birds choose to dance

 their noisy, aerial ballet.

 What would their Creator say?

 

 Perhaps, like me, He loves to see

 their high hopscotch from tree to tree

 just for His own enjoyment.

 For all His creatures here below,

 it gratifies God’s heart to know

 we delight in the world He made,

 and look up when we have the chance

 to watch joy take wing and dance.

 

10/18/23

Writer's Remorse

     I knew the process of getting published had changed, after all, most of what I now read are eBooks on Kindle. I sometimes miss the feel and texture of physical books, but I don't miss going to the library, especially ours. Since Flathead County Library (isn't that simple and concise) became Imagine If, and my library card read like a loyalty card to an adult book store--No Questions, No Judgments, No Values (oops, that last one was mine), I have rarely darkened the door of our library. But until a recent guest in our home, driveway actually (they slept in their camper) encouraged me to publish my poetry, and explained how simple it was on Kindle Direct Publishing, having my writing published remained an elusive dream. Since Jeanette Windle is an excellent writer, her encouraging words about my poetry gave me the push I needed to, at least, check into getting published. After all, I didn't have to write anything, I just needed to organize what I had already written.

    Since bringing order out of chaos is something I gravitate to, braiding together my grief journal, poems and blog flowed fairly easily. It seemed like something I should have thought of in the first place. My niece, and fellow writer, with a communications degree got me started on the KDP website and had a cover whipped up in no time. I wanted a picture with a lamb and she found one free on a website she uses. I knew there would be lots of formatting changes going from full sheet Word documents to an eBook and she showed me how to do that also. I wanted to foist the formatting job off on her, and would gladly finance the foisting, but if there are going to be more of my writings out there, I really should learn how to use the program. This mostly consisted of making page breaks between my prose and my poems. Fortunately, all but three of my poems fit on one page, so I did not have to split many of my brainchildren in half. Unfortunately, as I have sometimes experienced using Word, the titles which had started out centered became skewed and I spent a ridiculous amount of time unskewing and uploading them. By then I just wanted to save my text before anything worse happened to it. 

    The next step was figuring out price. I was thinking $.99 since that is what I am willing to pay for eBooks on Book Bub and my book is less than 70 pages, but Jeanette recommended at least $2.99. For one thing that is the bottom threshold for earning 70% royalties but, since I am hoping my book can be used as a ministry to the grieving, I will have the option to let people download it for free from time to time, and the distance from $2.99 to free is greater than the price drop from 99 cents. From there KDP needed info on where to send my huge earnings and tax information for my I-9 so I don't try to cheat the IRS out of their potential $7 share. 

    At first, seeing my work previewed in an eBook made me feel like an actual author. Then, formatting the book made me feel like just another frustrated computer user. After that, things kind of got away from me and I felt like I did when Reed and I got engaged at 19, or when I found out I was pregnant. (To clarify, those events were six years apart.) Writer's remorse, I assume. But then Reed, who has long wanted me to publish a book (under the delusion that it would bring in so much money he could quit his day job), reminded me it is not all that different from when I post a blog. Not only have I done that hundreds of times, I am doing it right now. The worst thing that could happen is that nobody reads my book and, for me, that seems about write.

     

I, Connie, Take Thee, Jesus

     Our BSF lesson this week was about John chapter 3, so naturally, there was lots of discussion about what it means to be born again. Most of the women in my class are much younger in both age and in their Christian walk than I am, so their understanding of, or at least the way they expressed what it means to be born again, was a little fuzzy. However, they are right that there is a process involved in rebirth, and the following illustration from physical birth, was helpful to me. Just as a baby forms secretly and silently for months before its birth, in the same way, God prepares his children to receive Him. But actual birth, both physical and spiritual, is a definite event, the first in time, the second in eternity. 

    Ezekiel 36:26 describes this change as a heart transplant, God replaces our heart of stone with a heart of flesh. Looking back, God prepared me for surgery for many years, in hundreds of ways until (due to my own stubbornness) I was willing to trust Christ. I picture being born again like wedding vows, so today's blog is my personalization of traditional vows.

 

 

I, Connie, take thee, Jesus, 

to be my Lord and Savior, 

to have and to someday hold,

from this day forward, 

for better, for worse,

for richer, for poorer, 

in sickness and in health, 

to love and to cherish, 

to honor and obey.

And death cannot part us.

For then we will love each other 

face to face

forever.