Lenten Writing Project Reboot 2020! Writers' Reflections in the Wilderness of Lent
Words of Faith
Spirit to Spirit Writing Project
The word Lentcomes from an old English word meaning lengthening of days. In Christianity, it refers to the time before Easter, traditionally observed through repentance and learning. It's a season to be intentional about changing and growing. Some people give up items to create space and time for new life and habits to grow. Instead of giving something up, I invite you to try to commit to answering these writing prompts each of the 40 days of Lent. The discipline it takes to set aside time each day to reflect and write about God and your relationship with spirituality is a journey that you will emerge from with a renewed spirit. Every writer has their own special voice to add to this project, whether poetry, prose, essay, thoughts, lists, or through comments, prayer, and encouragement.
How do I participate? Each day, a writing prompt will be posted. A prompt is a question or statement that is meant to inspire your thoughts in whatever genre you feel moved to write. Post your reflections as a comment under each day's prompt (for further instructions, see 'How To Post' on the right side of the page). It is up to you if you write, read, or pray along with us each of the 40 days of Lent or just drop in from time to time when the spirit moves you to participate. Writing regularly is a discipline that many writers struggle with and this is a way to involve that discipline as a Lenten practice. Through writing and leaving encouraging words for others in this project, we become a supportive spiritual writing community
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Dreams and Visions
Write about a dream, vision or other 'mountaintop experience' with God that you have experienced. Even and especially if it was just a small gentle whisper or inclination...
Answers I’ve recieved from God in the middle of the night Once I stopped talking Which is rare. Very rare. Buttressed by manic worrying, obsessive researching and planning The answers seemed to have nothing to do with the questions about my future, my direction in life and trying to re-discover who I am God’s whispers felt gentler and seemed to enter from a different place in my head than the cacophony of the other 50,000 words mosh-pitting around in my brain: “You are beautiful” (the word ‘beautiful’ was used, and I knew it to mean ‘beautiful’ the way my children are beautiful. whole) “Go to bed” (it was 3 in the morning) I guess I’ll have to figure the rest out later, at a more decent hour.
Sometimes listening to simple things from the Spirit, don't always have to be figured out later. Sometimes you can receive them as the gifts they are. fHs
Holy Week of 1982 while I was attending Lutheran Bible Institute in Issaquah, WA. Each Tuesday night a group of us met for "Prayer and Praise" in the chapel. Beautiful chapel with huge magnificent stained glass windows created by a famous French artist and smooth marble floors (I think it was marble). We liked to sit on the floor in front of the altar and sing and pray. This night the floor was covered with palms since it was a few days past Palm Sunday. One of my classmates, Sue who had CP, was confined to her wheelchair, but she had a sweet and happy spirit. She could not talk, and someone lifted her to sit among us among the green palms.Somehow while we were singing she managed to pick up a palm and hold it up. My spirit was lifted in wonderful praise as she worshiped God without words.
University enrollment moved me from I-A to II-S in the draft. Uncle George, Navy recruiter, had run enlistment tests for me. “If you sign-up, you’ll do fine. Maybe electronics on a noble craft.” “Thanks Unk. I’ve got a few more folks about my future to see.”
Pacific Lutheran, not the height of social commentary, unrest, I watched as friends, enlisted, traveled the path to Viet Nam. Always willing to do my part, Spirit guided, felt truly blest. After five years, a B.A. in English Literature not training in bombs.
Word Became Flesh had tapped me on the shoulder in church. “You hear these folks confessing their faith so well? I need a hand. You’ve been set aside, ‘twill be no lurch. Just follow close by; we’ve got the ‘Old Story’ to tell.”
Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN, in family myths of my youth, Accepted my application along with a large contingent of young men. Deferment shifted from II-S to IV-D now began deeper study of truth. “Well Lord, I’m on the path, though I’ve got flaws, on You I’ll depend.”
Vivid to the smells, the vision broke my conscious mind. Small platoon of grunts, me their chaplain, hunkered in a hooch. Communion service underway, sniper put us in a bind. I got my weapon first, took him out of the tree a skooch.
“Medic! Hey guys listen up. The body and blood of Christ shed for you.” Then it faded, I was back on campus planning a serious shut-down. Editor of ‘The Margin’, I published times, meeting places true. Our community of faith must dialogue. There will be more than a frown.
Spring quarter came. Our Junior class shrunk a third. Those of us remaining recommitted to the theological path. Our task training during war in the ministry of the Word, Faithful servants called, much to Satan’s enduring wrath.
The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div. 21 March 2013
Many years ago when I lived in Los Angeles the Land of 20 lane freeways, and bumper to bumper traffic
I had a dream, one night; or more like a vision
which I still carry with me, as if it were fresh
It was a hot, bright, summer day I was helplessly stuck; driving south, towards home, in that horrible, high volume, slow commuter traffic, impatiently hurrying to be someplace else
I was also very angry with my passenger about something: arguing, yelling, even cursing at him; completely, utterly enraged Not the Christian way of handling things, at all!
All of a sudden, the sky grew very bright it was like looking at the sun
Loud, announcing trumpets filled the air everyone and everything froze We looked up at the sky, as it began to part with giant, golden curtains
I knew, then, what was about to happen, even before I saw Jesus begin to descend
It was The End Jesus was returning
Right Now
No more time for prayers of 'I'm sorry God' 'Please forgive me, God' 'I'll try harder, God'
It was all over
And there I was caught in the middle of a stupid argument I knew I had screwed up royally I was sure to go to Hell
But, instead, when I looked up into Jesus' eyes He smiled at me No words were spoken But, I knew, as of that moment that I would be OK
You see, It never was about my being perfect that would get me into Heaven It was always about Jesus and that I believed on Him and was baptized
I've always remembered that dream It was so real That's why I know I'll be OK as long as I keep believing, and trying because He already took care of my mess-ups
Answers I’ve recieved from God in the middle of the night
ReplyDeleteOnce I stopped talking
Which is rare.
Very rare.
Buttressed by manic worrying, obsessive researching and planning
The answers seemed to have nothing to do with the questions
about my future, my direction in life and trying to re-discover who I am
God’s whispers felt gentler
and seemed to enter from a different place in my head than the cacophony of the other 50,000 words mosh-pitting around in my brain:
“You are beautiful”
(the word ‘beautiful’ was used, and I knew it to mean ‘beautiful’ the way my children are beautiful. whole)
“Go to bed”
(it was 3 in the morning)
I guess I’ll have to figure the rest out later, at a more decent hour.
0300 a quiet time of day. no distractions! listen, rest, reflect.
Deleteronaldo
Sometimes listening to simple things from the Spirit, don't always have to be figured out later. Sometimes you can receive them as the gifts they are.
DeletefHs
Laying in the meadow is as pleasant as standing on the mountaintop!
ReplyDeleteMarlene
ah! yes.
Deleteronaldo
Holy Week of 1982 while I was attending Lutheran Bible Institute in Issaquah, WA. Each Tuesday night a group of us met for "Prayer and Praise" in the chapel. Beautiful chapel with huge magnificent stained glass windows created by a famous French artist and smooth marble floors (I think it was marble). We liked to sit on the floor in front of the altar and sing and pray. This night the floor was covered with palms since it was a few days past Palm Sunday. One of my classmates, Sue who had CP, was confined to her wheelchair, but she had a sweet and happy spirit. She could not talk, and someone lifted her to sit among us among the green palms.Somehow while we were singing she managed to pick up a palm and hold it up. My spirit was lifted in wonderful praise as she worshiped God without words.
ReplyDeleteJoel Lohafer
Spirit touches always in the best way.
Deleteronaldo
Front Line
ReplyDeleteUniversity enrollment moved me from I-A to II-S in the draft.
Uncle George, Navy recruiter, had run enlistment tests for me.
“If you sign-up, you’ll do fine. Maybe electronics on a noble craft.”
“Thanks Unk. I’ve got a few more folks about my future to see.”
Pacific Lutheran, not the height of social commentary, unrest,
I watched as friends, enlisted, traveled the path to Viet Nam.
Always willing to do my part, Spirit guided, felt truly blest.
After five years, a B.A. in English Literature not training in bombs.
Word Became Flesh had tapped me on the shoulder in church.
“You hear these folks confessing their faith so well?
I need a hand. You’ve been set aside, ‘twill be no lurch.
Just follow close by; we’ve got the ‘Old Story’ to tell.”
Luther Seminary, St. Paul, MN, in family myths of my youth,
Accepted my application along with a large contingent of young men.
Deferment shifted from II-S to IV-D now began deeper study of truth.
“Well Lord, I’m on the path, though I’ve got flaws, on You I’ll depend.”
Vivid to the smells, the vision broke my conscious mind.
Small platoon of grunts, me their chaplain, hunkered in a hooch.
Communion service underway, sniper put us in a bind.
I got my weapon first, took him out of the tree a skooch.
“Medic! Hey guys listen up. The body and blood of Christ shed for you.”
Then it faded, I was back on campus planning a serious shut-down.
Editor of ‘The Margin’, I published times, meeting places true.
Our community of faith must dialogue. There will be more than a frown.
Spring quarter came. Our Junior class shrunk a third.
Those of us remaining recommitted to the theological path.
Our task training during war in the ministry of the Word,
Faithful servants called, much to Satan’s enduring wrath.
The Rev. Ronald Allen Melver, M.Div.
21 March 2013
Dreams and Visions
ReplyDeleteMany years ago
when I lived in Los Angeles
the Land of 20 lane freeways, and
bumper to bumper traffic
I had a dream, one night; or
more like a vision
which I still carry with me,
as if it were fresh
It was a hot, bright, summer day
I was helplessly stuck; driving south, towards home,
in that horrible, high volume, slow commuter traffic,
impatiently hurrying to be someplace else
I was also very angry with my passenger about something:
arguing, yelling, even cursing at him;
completely, utterly enraged
Not the Christian way of handling things, at all!
All of a sudden,
the sky grew very bright
it was like looking at the sun
Loud, announcing trumpets filled the air
everyone and everything froze
We looked up at the sky,
as it began to part with giant, golden curtains
I knew, then, what was about to happen,
even before I saw
Jesus begin to descend
It was The End
Jesus was returning
Right Now
No more time for prayers of
'I'm sorry God'
'Please forgive me, God'
'I'll try harder, God'
It was all over
And there I was
caught in the middle of a stupid argument
I knew I had screwed up royally
I was sure to go to Hell
But, instead,
when I looked up
into Jesus' eyes
He smiled at me
No words were spoken
But, I knew, as of that moment
that I would be OK
You see,
It never was about my being perfect
that would get me into Heaven
It was always about Jesus
and that I believed on Him and was baptized
I've always remembered that dream
It was so real
That's why I know I'll be OK
as long as I keep believing, and trying
because He already took care of my mess-ups
fHs
Sara