It’s the Little Things

“It’s the little things in life.”

I love little things. Actual little things. I have written about this before, it was one of my first articles back when I was finding my way with this website. I have changed direction, quit, come back and (once again) asked the Lord what He wants me to do with my love of writing. I felt a pull to write more and with that comes a lot of challenges. I don’t love challenges. I want things to come naturally and work out and then I can say this is so obviously what I’m supposed to be doing because it comes so easy and has such success.

In short, I’m looking for the big things in life. Which is ironic considering my love of little things. I want big successes. Big rewards. Big recognitions. Don’t we all long for this? Look at how well my job is going, how great my kids are turning out, how deep my relationships are, how I’m acknowledged in all my circles, even in the world (perhaps?).

I have my writing awards framed, I want people to see them, to know my worth, my value as a writer.

What accolades do you have under glass or displayed on your fridge? That reward in your field? Or maybe your child’s impressive report card or sports recognition? Maybe you had your picture in the paper or even on the cover of a magazine?

Do we put our families on display? Our businesses? Our best artwork or crafts? Of course we are excited and want everyone to see how great it’s going. To share with the world or at least our “group” the good things happening in these areas.

And we need to celebrate these things! It’s important, it’s fun, it’s lovely to see the wedding pictures, the beautiful children in coordinating outfits (with no fighting) and the first day of the dream job. These are the snapshots of life we put on our desks at work, post on social media and hang in our hallways.

How wild would it be if you sat across from a desk only to spy a picture of the time your accountant fell off his bike instead of the time he won the race? Or what if you went to a playdate and the snapshots were of gum in the hair and tears at bedtime and the third night in a row your kids ate cereal for dinner? What if artists displayed only their first attempts at a forthcoming masterpiece? What if we showcased the review with “constructive” criticism? What if I published my first drafts?

Most people aren’t interested in putting the less than perfect images on display. I know I’m not. I like to put those first drafts in a drawer. I delete the unflattering pictures. I don’t want to talk about the failures, the time wasted, the wrong things said in a meeting or in a hard parenting moment.

Yet, these are the little things that build up to the bigger things.

How many mountaintop moments do we experience? In actuality, life is a lot of little things strung together, like pearls on a necklace. Alone they aren’t that impressive, but all together they can be layered around and around until they are weighty. A statement piece. Set against the background of an ordinary life, these small wins can add up.

What if the real gems are more about our character and our growth than about the actual achievements?

I tend to want worldly victories. I find myself chasing after what my culture says is important. Ironically, that is subject to time and place. These are fleeting, changing goals. Like trying to capture the wind vs building a house on a firm foundation. The older I get the more I want something solid, something unmovable on which to build my value and worth. When I was getting published regularly and winning awards, I felt great about my career as a writer. When I started working on this website, I struggled (and still do), because I no long receive the reward of a paycheck or media recognition. This website is a smaller thing.

What are things in your life that feel small?

Most people tell me their life doesn’t look the way they imagined when they were younger. We dream of the heights with no regard for the valleys between . . . and if you are anything like me, you are actually surprised by the low (difficult) times.

Yet, it is in these lowlands that the little things matter the most.

Steamy coffee sipped on a quiet morning. A summer evening dancing with fireflies. Words of encouragement from a friend. When your children make you laugh. Watching a rainstorm. Time to think. Rest.

These things keep us going. They add up to something bigger. To something better. A life that can find joy even on the darker days. Even when the laundry is piling up and tensions are high at work and your trip just got cancelled. Moments that make us smile or pause from our trials or even just the monotony of everyday life, are bright spots moving us forward (even if its just to the weekend).

More importantly, the same is true in our spiritual life. We have some big moments, like our salvation or our baptism, that are exciting and noteworthy days, but much of our faith is walking out our beliefs in the everyday moments. How do we behave when it gets hard or stressful or even boring? That’s when I find, that “the something solid, something unmovable on which to build my worth and value”, can only come from my life being hid in Christ, my Lord and Saviour. “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Phil 1:6

The little things of our faith add up quickly: daily Bible study, praying (with thanksgiving), resting in the goodness of God, sharing our hope. These practices of our faith sustain us on the trail. We get thirsty and hungry and tired in this race called life. Sometimes there are really big hills that hit when we are the most tired or deep valleys that seem unbelievably lonely. But these not so little, little practices encourage our feet to keep moving.

A Bible verse that speaks right to our heart.

A time in prayer that calms our anxious souls.

Sweet words from a friend.

“Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart, so doth the sweetness of a man’s friend by hearty (heartfelt) counsel”. Pr 27:9kjv

Every hike starts with one step and then another and then another, all strung together. Small movements adding up to a journey. We wouldn’t leave for a trek without proper provisions. We need energy, hydration and protection from the elements. The Lord has provided all things for his children. We are nourished by his word, watered by prayers and protected in community. Don’t go it alone and don’t go empty-handed.

How many times have you left home and forgotten something? What would you go back for? Your lunch packed in a cooler, your water bottle, your phone? These are things we need and they are worth turning around for. Time spent growing our faith is also worth the sacrifice. Sometimes we need to turn our day around and gather our supplies; sit quietly with the Lord and be filled so we can deal with life, from the mundane to the unexpected.

Yesterday, I was so busy running from thing to thing that I forgot to pack any food. I was feeling over-caffeinated and a little woozy, I needed to eat, but didn’t have time to stop. Next on the list was picking up my son up from a friend and speeding off to camp. I asked his grandmother, if I could heat up my coffee (because more coffee . . .right?) and she offered me lunch! Sometime we just aren’t equipped for where the trail takes us. This is why the Bible says to be in fellowship with other believers. Sometimes we need lunch. She had extra food and I needed a sandwich (a small blessing) that really made a difference in my day.

At times we are dry and weary and need others to motivate us to keep on the journey. We give into the lies and the fears that can plague every Christian. So the Lord sends his saints to offer a weary traveler encouragement. He preserved his Word (the Bible), to teach us the armor of God (Eph 6), to show us the Hope set before us (Heb 6) and to “restoreth our souls” with the poetry of Psalms . His presence quiets us when we pour out our hearts.

I have been reading a book on Puritan prayers (I know, yawn) but they are anything but boring. These prayers are deep and profound, they are so beautifully penned and speak life into my soul when it is weary and tired. These prayers have reshaped the way I communicate with the Lord. A “little thing” that has had a profound impact on my spiritual life.

At every level of our development, the Lord can use us in small and big ways. Are we willing to start in the small things?

Will we commit to being in The Word daily?

Will we carve out time for prayer?

We will speak up when someone needs to hear the truth and encourgment the Bible offers?

Will we act unselfishly when our flesh tells us otherwise?

Small things sparkle in an ordinary life.

Showing God that we are willing to be used, willing to do the difficult things, willing to grow can seem like little things but are often actually the big things.

His master said to him, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.” Math 25:21 esv

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Drafts on Fuzzy Hope

I love all four seasons, but here in Michigan we have a fifth season. We refer to it as second winter. If you don’t know what that is, it’s when you think surely (surely!) winter is almost over; and then a whole ‘nother winter starts, but this time without Christmas lights. I’m a big fan of sweaters and boots and reading by a fireplace, so I don’t complain as much as most, but even a second winter is too much for me. So as you can imagine, by the time we hit anything faintly reminiscent of spring, we are very excited. People will wear shorts and sandals and rave about the balmy weather when it hits anything above 50 degrees.

It reached into the 60s here last week and I found myself sitting outside drinking an oat milk miel latte, feeling like there was hope in the world once again. It was glorious. Springtime naturally turns my mind to newness and growth. This winter has been particularly hard on my writing. I felt frozen. Unable to thaw out any good ideas. Like standing before my freezer looking at unappealing chunks of chicken and ground turkey. Not appetizing! Sure you can take them out, thaw them, cook them up and add spices, but it all just feels rather . . . uninspiring.

As I sip on my honey cinnamon froth, the sun is shining on my face and some far-reaching branches from the artisanal planter behind me are attacking my hair. I turn around to confront my assailant which turns out to be one of my favorite branches (What? You don’t have a favorite branch?). Mine is the pussy willow. Lovely pink and yellow blossoms surround tall sprigs of this small cat-like tree known as the pussy willow. The silvery grey, fuzzy catkins (. . .could that be any cuter?) remind me of a sweet childhood memory.

When I was young my dad would take my sister and I to pick pussy willows every spring. There was a spot down the road from the farm where we would select branches. We would point out a favored limb and he would nip them off with his pocket knife. We would take them home and put them in vases around the house. The pussy willow will always have a spot in my heart.

The pussy willow is one of the first plants to bloom after winter. Let me make that a bit more dramatic: after second winter! We are all so ready for something new. We are sick and tired of cold and wet and dreary times. Bleakness has ruled not only the days, but our minds. And just when we start to give up hope, we start to think—this is it, this is life now. Then something so unique, like the pussy willow, starts to blossom. But new hope is fragile, it’s shaky and unsteady. But God knows that we are on shaky ground after a hard winter.

Has your faith been tested this year?

Have you felt really tired?

Too cold and numb to go on?

I know I have. I have tried to stay steady in my faith. I know God is big. Bigger than my fears. Bigger than my doubts. Bigger than my loses. But I have felt stilted. Unable to grow. Just a bare branch on an icy day.

Then spring comes. And there is a tiny bud of hope. The sun comes out and melts some of the ice. Limbs we thought had perhaps died over the winter start to stir. Our minds soften to the idea of something new.

I’m creating something new says the Lord:

“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.” Isaiah 43:19 kjv

God, in His infinite wisdom, knows that our little buds of hope need a fuzzy coat to stay warm—like the pussy willows dressed in their little silvery grey jackets. New hope is very fragile and a sudden frost could kill the buds, if it were not for their outerwear.

So what is our outerwear against a cold snap? Because as anyone who lives in Michigan knows, there is always another cold day tucked right in between a row of pleasant days. We have hope and joy, inspiration and promise. We have banished the big puffy jacket to the back of the closet and . . . surprise, it’s 30 degrees out! This very thing actually happened to me today as I came back to this piece. I started it on a sunny and beautiful day. Yes, I will write again. There is hope. Then cut to a few days later: me driving to school in a white-out snow flurry completely aghast. What?!! Didn’t see this coming. But I should have.

We need to dress our hope in protective wear until it matures enough to withstand the elements. For my writing, I need to think there will be days in the sun where everything is easy, the words flow like brewing coffee, and I just have to catch it in my favorite typewriter mug. Other days it is cold and everything is hard. The coffee is bitter and turns my stomach, my favorite mug is in the dishwasher, but yet I still need to write. I still need to push forward.

It is like this in our faith. Some days we feel God’s presence. We have a song in our hearts, it’s a time of revival and newness. The branches that seemed stilted are suddenly sprouting new buds of joy, peace and long-suffering. God is using us to bless others, we are workers in the kingdom. The words of the Bible are alive, speaking directly into our lives. These are glorious days. Days with color and fragrance. Like a spring-time garden.

But then there are the dark days. The days it feels as if God has disappeared. The Bible seems antiquated and for a different time and place, confusing at best. We feel a heaviness like the clouds are low and about to pour out cold drizzle on our little fire. These are the days we need the fuzzy coats of the pussy willows. Something to keep out the chill, of yet, one more disappointment; to ward off the mist of a depression we can’t understand, to keep us from going back to frozen, back to numb, back to winter.

How do we get this jacket that the pussy willow comes by so naturally?

What lessons do our little fuzzy friends have to teach us?

The pussy willow doesn’t worry about the weather, they bloom in their time, trusting that God will equip them to come to full blossom. How often do I think that I know best. This isn’t a good time for me to start a ministry. I can’t move there. I can’t speak to that person. Yet, God says He will provide. But how do I know this? I know this because I have read His Word. Why does this so often not feel true? Usually, because I confuse my wants with my needs or I think being uncomfortable is reason enough not to move forward. The pussy willow would never bloom if they looked at a weather report. They just trust in that soft layer of fuzz - their protective “coat” - from their heavenly Maker.

Traditionally, the crocus is seen as a first sign of spring. It’s meant to symbolize hope. Their purple and white flowers pop up in my lawn every year, and I love them; but I always know I better enjoy them while I can because they are not going to make it long in Michigan. These are lovely, tiny little flowers that have no staying power. Just like these little beauties, I want my hope to be pretty. I want to collect it on a sparkling day and put handfuls of eye-catching bouquets around my house and hand it out to my loved ones. But this type of hope is fair-weathered and easily shaken.

I want my hope to be like the pussy willow. Sure, it’s not exactly pretty, but it is interesting, textured and hardy. It is soft to the touch but hard underneath. It’s not showy, but it has a promise of something more to come. It’s appropriately dressed for the weather (something mothers love).

Is your hope wearing a jacket? Just know that it’s going to thunderstorm, snow, hail and one day reign fire from heaven (see the Book of Revelation for details). We zip up our spiritual jackets when we read the Bible and spend time in prayer and worship, so our faith will not cool off and risk freezing.

How often do I think I’m better because things are better. It’s a nice day; I had a sweet word from a friend; I like my hair today. Yet, my hope and joy cannot be in these temporal things. And like the weather . . . my looks, my relationships and my work will have its ups and downs. There is only One that I can count on.

Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. Hebrews 13:8 esv

Drafts on the Comments Section

I have been word-bombing blank pages with my thoughts since elementary school. The journal covers may have morphed from prancing horses and snuggling puppies to vintage travel with Jane Austen quotes, but the idea is the same—I need to write. I find putting pen to paper not only a way to organize my thoughts, but a form of therapy. As my emotions perch on the lines of the pages, I can look them square in the eye. In high school, I can remember writing so hard I ripped the paper (bc teenage feelings are that strong). Some words came carefully, as I tried to get them just right, and others poured out like a faucet, open at full tilt, left to overflow the sink and splash around on the floor.

As I grew older, I started writing pieces to share with others. I wrote poetry for my friends and short stories for class. Teachers and family encouraged me to pursue writing. I would work on stories for weeks before reading them aloud to my sisters. Their excitement over my characters and the dramatic and often tragic storylines would thrill me and encourage my writing. I learned that I didn’t want to just write in journals for myself, but I wanted to write for others. I started taking creative writing classes and reading books on the subject. After attending a writing conference I quickly realized this is what I wanted to do. College beckoned and I went on to earn a professional writing degree and started publishing my homework in magazines.

One of my favorite aspects of being an author is opening a notebook and letting others read my words. Like anyone in the arts, we don’t want our creation to stay tucked away in the studio, we want the world to see it and react. I have written pieces for others like a gift, the same way a potter fashions a cup or bowl with someone in mind. I have friends who cook or sew or make chocolate—I write words. Poems about friendships, articles about my mom’s love and short stories about my dad’s farm. This is an expression of gratitude. I want to see their reaction, like when we find the perfect gift for someone, we can’t wait for them to tear off the paper and see just what they mean to us.

When I started this blog, I really thought it would be mostly about writing and its brewdy sidekick, coffee. I had hoped to encourage writers, provoke ideas and share tips. I knew my faith would enter in at times because it is such a big part of me and my writing. After a handful of posts, with nods to my faith, it began to take a more prominent role, no longer watching from the wings, but stepping out into the spotlight. And it felt right, like that is where it belonged the whole time. Like when the star of the show gets laryngitis and the understudy has to go on and he is amazing! I love to write about publishing and little lessons from my life and will continue to do so, but I have felt that there is more to say. Like perhaps my writing is a form of worship, a love letter to my Lord. And I hope it comes across in my words. I don’t want to live a faith that leaves people wondering.

God did not leave us to wonder. He wrote a book for us so we could know Him. It’s an amazing love story! And like any good book, it has it all—humor, drama, adventure, loss and Redemption. God had His book commissioned—to be read; it has an eternal message we all need. I hand out business cards, post on social media and try to casually tell people in conversation that I have written something (not of Biblical proportions by any means!) but I would love it if they took the time to read my blog. The hope is that lots of people will read it and even more so, leave a comment!

Readers comments are the fruit of my labor. When someone takes the time to tell me what my writing meant to them personally, how it was just what they needed that day or that they shared it with a friend, I’m overjoyed. All the hard work feels worthwhile. I try hard to not have high expectations, for it’s a slow process and I’m figuring it out one hurdle at a time. Which brings me to a recent post I wrote and how it had no comments, not one! I was rather disappointed. Perhaps it wasn’t that great of a post; blogging is such a different thing than writing articles for magazines. Blogs are just quick shots of life, not poured-over manuscripts for which someone thought worthy of pay. I assumed it just wasn’t a comment-worthy piece until I realized I hadn’t turned on the comments section!

This got me thinking about how often I feel that God isn’t speaking to me. I’m praying, asking for answers and guidance and if feels like He stays silent. But have I turned on my comments section? Am I looking for the answers in the right place? God has authored a book and as it turns out, many of the answers I’m looking for are in the pages of His Word—God’s comments section, if you will. If we want to hear God speak we must turn on the “comments section” by opening up our Bibles. Something I have not always done. In my younger years of being a Christian, I did not read my Bible very often and I wondered why God was so quiet. Turned out He had plenty of notes and suggestions, if I cared to read it.

Once I realized I had not turned on the comments section of my blog post, it all made sense. Of course, I wasn’t going to hear anything! I have always wished I could get an audible response from God or even if He wanted to write me a letter—I would wait by the mailbox everyday! Well, He did write me a letter - I just need to turn on the comments section or better known as “opening up” His Word. Of course, God speaks to us in other ways, in our spirit and through His followers as we are His hands and feet (“Now then we are ambassadors for Christ…” 2 Cor 5:20a). He often sends someone to encourage or redirect us. I have sat across many a café table from someone lamenting that they just wish they could know the truth. I love to say God sent me to tell you to turn on your comments section. He is Truth . . . and He has so much to say.

Have you ever been confronted by something you journaled, perhaps putting those thoughts on paper made you examine them in a different light?

If you have journals, look through some old musings and write about how your feelings have changed.

Are you looking for answers when you haven’t turned on your comments section?

DRAFTS on Demitasse

Drafts on Demitasse

I have yet to meet an espresso cup I don't love and don't even get me started on demitasse spoons. I love tiny treasures. My house is full of random pint-sized things. My windowsill is lined with espresso cups and if you happen to step on something sharp; well, if it’s not a Lego, it’s most likely a miniature chicken or perhaps an itty-bitty baby. My friend sent me a photo of a tiny cow she found in her jacket pocket the other day and I immediately shot back a text of the tiny farmer living in my coat pocket.

Part of the attraction of petite things is that they feel less committal, a mini cup of coffee, a small spoonful of tiramisu. If I drink and eat sample-sized amounts I can try more. Small plates are a revelation. I want a bite of everything - à la carte. So much of life is choosing one thing and sticking to it, that when it comes to food and writing and fashion, I want to sample a little of everything.

We choose a spouse, we become a parent, we pick a career path and the majority of our life is settled. This is what settling down looks like, you have made your big choices and now your everyday path is carved out. And while there is a peace in this, a belonging and a comfort, our minds do wonder at times. What if I had stayed with my music lessons or taken that job abroad? I find it safe to keep my mind close to home, to feel the path under my feet—its sturdiness, its native flowers and its predictable weather patterns. I mostly like my choices as in the bond of family, the pull of the lake and my voice in written words. There are things I would never change, they have grown right into me like tree roots, wrapping, winding and holding me together. Yet, the shifts in seasons, from winter's starkness to summer's bloom is all available whilst staying grounded. This is why I love so many different styles from the saturated colors of a Moroccan market to washed-out variations of white. Demitasse allows me an endless array of options without becoming too full.        

With writing, I like to try my hand in all the genres. I have published short stories, poems, articles and radio dramas. I enjoy writing in little shots, different flavors, colors and styles.

Have you ever dreamed of seeing your words in print? Becoming a published author? Now maybe you just love to write for yourself and that is just great, but if a byline is on your wish list (or maybe just something you would like to secretly try for) this next section is for you. I’m going to start touching on basic publishing ideas. I have taught several writing classes on this topic and will start pouring it out in demitasse-sized cups.

Notes on Publishing

Friends are often asking me if I can talk to their sister or neighbor or friends (if they are super lucky this is the same person) about writing. Typically this person loves to write, perhaps took a creative writing class and would like to know how I went about getting published. I love having this conversation, especially if we are meeting over coffee. This next section is for sister/neighbor/friend who would like to take their love of writing to the next step.

Warning: I am about to ask a lot of questions

What you know, what you love and what you are good at are all great places to start when trying to get some publishing credits to your name. Jot down a list of things you are an “expert” in or at least know more than the average person. Do you work with kids? Are you good at finances? Perhaps you are a gifted organizer or know everything there is to know about essential oils. What are your hobbies? Do you knit or make your own skin care, have a knack for decorating? Unsure? What do family members call you about? That's usually a tip off. Do they call you for parenting advice or for natural remedies or maybe thay ask you to go shopping because you have a good eye for style? Do friends want you to look at their resume or their new business plan? Spend some time thinking about this and make a running list that you can go back to when you need an idea for submitting your work for publishing. I have had many pieces published in writing magazines, tea publications and faith-based periodicals, to name a few, all based on my upbringing, life experiences and what I know and love today. I, also, have penned several stories about farm life including some children’s fiction, based on my 4H years and life on a farm.

Life experience is a great place to mine for those pen to paper ideas. Write about what you have learned from surviving a hardship, for example, or how becoming a mother wasn’t quite what you expected. Maybe a rough patch in your marriage or a time you failed at something, but it lead you to some great insight. The first article I ever published was about a time when an intimidating stranger in a coffeeshop asked me about my faith; and I have since written many pieces on the topic of faith. And even though I’m no expert, I have published articles about parenting and marriage because these are areas I’m familiar with; I have gone through things that have taught me lessons I could share through my writing. Actually though, much of my body of work is for teen girls because, well, I was once a teenage girl and I believe I have some helpful advice to give younger women.

When dreams Come Down to Earth (its about to get earthy)

One of the Catch-22’s of publishing is that you usually have to be published to get published - so the best places to start are with free publications - those which are looking for content. If your initial goal is to make money, I suggest going to law school. I’m sure you will not be surprised to hear that working in the arts is not particularly lucrative; but, it is amazing to get a check in the mail for that first piece of paid writing. I made $250 for “Coffeehouse Witness,” which felt like a lot because at the time I would have done it for free—just so see my story in print.

Just get a few pieces published, so you can put that on your resume. I will talk about rejection in an upcoming post (it demands its own post!) but for now just figure that into the equation. You will be rejected; it’s just part of the game. Don’t let it pull you down, push back and send out more queries. Query: now there is a good publishing word. We will also talk about that later, just work on that list for now and start a piece with the thought of getting published.    

If you are already publishing, try writing a piece in a new genre, perhaps a short story or a how-to-article. I just sent off a submission to a greeting card company.

Try sipping from a demitasse cup. Write little smatterings of life. Make lists. Put pen to paper.

Please share some of your ideas of where to draw writing inspirations in the comments below and post some of your drafts in TYPEset