Samples of our Free Writes:
CLICK HERE for June 2009.
CLICK HERE for May 2009.
CLICK HERE for April 2009.
See what Jean Davis had to say about our first Free Write in March 2009 as a guest blogger in her article, "Fellowship in the Word," at Vonda Skelton's blog.
Results of our April 18, 2009 Free Write
On the Topic, It's Not the Words but the Music that Counts
Winner of Poetry Prize in Published Division
2008 Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference
Write His Answer
by Eva Maddox
Swirling thoughts
Weave a path
Through the mist
Gathering momentum
Forming ideas
Birthing rivulets of delight
Echoing, prompting, demanding
Propelling me to
Write!
Redeeming grace
Streams undeserved
Through a cross
Birthing and branding
Delivering divinely
Encompassing amazing love ‘tis
Echoing, prompting, demanding
Propelling me shout I’m
His!
Competing voices
Inch and pluck
Through a draft
Mocking deity
Whispering Spirit
Pleadingly calls a truth dancer
Echoing, prompting, demanding
Propelling me share His
Answer!
15-Second Commercial
by
Marshall Oppel
A new Bible: $30
Tithe for Church: $60
Tickets for the entire family to a Reliant K concert: $200
Eternity in Heaven: Priceless
WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN (REVISITED)
Deborah Dittert Avens
Copyright ©2005
When I am an old woman, I shall pray more,
With a Bible by my side when I go to bed.
And I shall spend my pension assisting others,
And wear my clothes until they are worn thin,
Because soon I will remove this old robe
And put on new and perfect garments.
I will sit down next to Jesus
And gobble up every word He says, and
Feast my eyes on the miracle of Heaven.
I will sing with the angels in a now-perfect voice,
And enjoy splendid trees planted by living water.
I will ask forgiveness for all my transgressions
Only to be told they were forgiven and forgotten
when I first asked long ago.
I will walk along golden streets, and find them
To be more lovely than I ever imagined,
And all the questions I wanted to ask
Will either be answered already
or become meaningless
The moment I arrive.
Perhaps I ought to practice for that day
By talking with My Savior more now,
In greater depth, with better concentration,
Listening more intently than I have before,
in order that I may hear Him and
See Him in THIS world with clarity.
I will soon wear purple, and it will be
The color of Heavenly royalty,
An old woman perfected by Jesus’ obedience
And forever thankful for His gift.
IVY'S COOKIES
Candy Abbott
The clank of the metal door and the echo of their footsteps rang in the ears of Ivy and Joanne as they walked down the dingy corridor behind the prison guard toward the “big room.” The aroma of Ivy’s homemade chocolate chip cookies wasn’t enough to override the stench of ammonia from the recently mopped floor or the bitterness and anger that hung in the air. Women’ Correctional Institute was not the kind of place where seventeen-year-olds go for an outing, but Ivy had a mission.
She was a new believer, and the Scripture, “When have you visited me in prison?” grabbed her heart. She didn’t know what she was getting into, but she had to try. Several weeks ago, with trembling fingers, she had dialed the number for an appointment at the prison. Warden Baylor was receptive to Ivy’s desire to visit and referred her to Joanne, another teen who had expressed interest.
“How do we do this?” Ivy asked.
“Who knows? Maybe homemade cookies would break the ice,” Joanne suggested.
So they baked their cookies and here they were, bearing gifts to strangers.
“I put almonds in these,” Ivy rambled nervously as they moved along. “The dough was gummier than usual . . .”
“Don't chatter,” the guard snapped. “It gets the prisoners riled.”
The harsh words made Ivy jump and her heart pound. She walked the rest of the distance in silence.
“Okay. Here we are,” the guard grunted, keys rattling. “You go in. I'll lock the door behind you. Be careful what you say. They have a way of using your words against you. You have fifteen minutes. Holler if you have any trouble.” Ivy noted the prisoners' orange jumpsuits and felt overdressed. Maybe we shouldn’t have worn heels, she thought. They probably think we’re snobs.
Remembering the guard’s admonition, the girls put the cookies on the table next to plastic cups of juice without a word. Some prisoners leaned against the wall; others stood around. Watching. Studying. Thinking. Staring. Nobody talked. Ivy smiled at one of the women, and she scowled back. From then on, she avoided eye contact. After five minutes of strained silence, Joanne whispered, “Let's move away from the table. Maybe they'll come over.”
As they stepped back, one of the prisoners blurted out, “I’m getting’ a cookie.” The others followed and began helping themselves. Soon they heard the rattle of keys. Time was up.
“What a relief to get outta there,” Joanne sighed as a gust of fresh air caressed their perspiring faces.
“Yeah,” Ivy agreed. “But there’s a tug inside me that we’re not done. Would you be willing to go back?”
Joanne nodded with a half-smile. “How about Thursday after school?”
Week after week they came. And week after week the prisoners ate the cookies, drank the juice and stood around in silence. Gradually, antagonistic looks were replaced by an occasional smile. Still, Ivy couldn't bring herself to speak -- not a word.
Then one Thursday, an evangelist walked in. Her step was sure, her chin was high, and she glowed with the love of God. But she meant business. “I’ve come to pray with you,” she announced. “Let’s make a circle.”
Ivy was awed by the inmates’ compliance. Only a few resisted. The others, although murmuring, inched their way toward the middle of the room and formed a lopsided circle, looking suspiciously at one another.
“Join hands,” the evangelist instructed. “It’s not gonna hurt ya, and it’ll mean more if you do.” Slowly they clasped hands, some grasping hard, others barely touching. “Now, bow your heads.” Except for the orange outfits, it could have been a church meeting.
“Okay. We’re gonna pray,” she continued, “and prayer is just like talking, only to God. I want to hear you tell the Lord one thing you're thankful for. Just speak it out. Don’t hold back.”
Ivy’s palms were sweaty. I can’t pray out loud, Lord. I can’t even talk to these women. Guess I should set an example, but they probably don’t even like me -- think I'm better than them ‘cause of my clothes.
The words of an inmate jolted from her thoughts.
“I'm thankful, God, for Miss Ivy bringing us cookies every week.”
Another voice compounded the shock, “God, thanks for bringing a black lady to see us, not just Quakers and Presbyterians.”
Ivy’s eyes brimmed with tears as she heard, “Thank you, God, for these two ladies givin’ their time every week even though we can't do nothin’ to pay ‘em back.”
One by one, every inmate in the circle thanked God for Ivy and Joanne. Then Joanne managed to utter a prayer of gratitude for the prisoners’ words. But when it came Ivy’s turn, she was too choked up to speak. Her eyes burned in humble remorse over how wrong she’d been about these women. She wished she could blow her nose, but the inmates were squeezing her hands so tightly, she resorted to loud sniffles and an occasional drip.
The following week, Ivy and Joanne returned, bright-eyed, to find the prisoners talkative.
“Why do you bring us cookies every week?” a husky voice inquired from the corner of the room. When Ivy explained, she inched a few steps closer. “Can you get me a Bible?” she asked. Others wanted to know more about the Jesus who inspires teenagers to visit prisoners.
A ministry was born from Ivy’s cookies. What started as a silent act of kindness and obedience turned into a weekly Bible study at the prison which eventually grew so big it split into several groups that continue to this day. After Joanne married and moved away, Ivy continued to minister to the inmates alone for years. Eventually, Prison Fellowship picked up the baton.
Ivy is a Grandmom now. Her radiance has increased with age, and she brightens any room she enters. But last Thursday afternoon she indulged herself in a good cry. Curled up on the couch, wrapped in the afghan her daughter had made, she wept. Deep sobs wracked her body as she remembered it had been one year since her daughter died of asthma. She ached over the loss and felt, for the first time, the full weight of her words, “The kids can live with me.” The baby was asleep in his crib and the two girls were in school when the doorbell rang.
There stood a young woman, probably 17, with a plate of homemade cookies.
“Are you Ivy Jones?” she asked.
“Yes,” she answered, dabbing her eyes with a wadded tissue.
“These are for you,” the girl said as she handed the cookies to her with a shy, sad smile, turning to leave without another word.
“Thank you,” Ivy whispered in a daze. The girl was halfway down the sidewalk when Ivy called out, “But why?”
“My grandmother gave me her Bible before she died last week, and her last words were, ‘Find Ivy Jones and take her some homemade cookies.’”
As the girl walked away, a wave of precious memories, uncertainties and younger days flooded Ivy’s soul. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she choked back a sob and headed toward the phone. It’s been a long time since I talked with Joanne.
Candace F. (Candy) Abbott is the founder of Delmarva Christian Writers' Fellowship. A multi-published author and speaker, she was named "Writer of the Year" at the 2003 Greater Philadelphia Christian Writers Conference. She and her husband Drew own and operate Fruitbearer Publishing, L.L.C., a friendly starting place for “budding authors” who want to self-publish. She may be reached at P.O. Box 777, Georgetown, DE 19947; 302-856-6649; e-mail:cfa@candyabbott.com; web sites: www.fruitbearer.com and www.GavinGoodfellow.com.
“Ivy’s Cookies” has been published in:Chicken Soup for the Prisoner’s Soul
Chicken Soup for the Christian Woman’s Soul
Stories for a Woman’s Heart
Stories for a Teen’s Heart 2
Small Acts of Grace
Chicken Soup for the Soul: Christian Teen Talk
For more details about Ivy's Cookies, visit the Press Room on Candy's Gavin Goodfellow site.
AN ESSAY
Steve Robison
How can a church be relevant to today’s society and culture while maintaining its Biblical purpose and truth?
Webster’s defines relevant as “having significant and demonstrable bearing on the matter at hand.” The word comes from the Latin word “relevare” meaning “to raise up.” As we raise up potential and current believers, into the hand of God, we also raise Him up. As we serve the people of our community, we also serve God.
The Message Bible translates Matthew 7:6 as:
Don't be flip with the sacred. Banter and silliness give no honor to God. Don't reduce holy mysteries to slogans. In trying to be relevant, you're only being cute and inviting sacrilege.
We thus need to guard against being too relevant, always realizing that God must be honored in all our words and actions. We mustn’t sacrifice honor and truth for being relevant.
Nonetheless, our primary purpose, with regard to our church, is to serve our members and attendees. More specifically, it is to lead others to Christ and to a life of service in Christ. To lead others to Christ, we must get their attention; we must have their open hearts and open ears. To get people’s attention, we must be relevant.
How can we serve current and potential attendees while also serving God?
We serve God by doing as He asks us to do; we serve God by working in His will; we serve God by serving others. Blaise Pascal said “There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.” The better we can get at sharing the gift of finding the way to becoming filled, the more we will have made manifest God’s purpose for His Church.
So, we need to commit to meet all believers, present and future, where they are. Jesus spent very little time lifting the “believers” and much more time leading the “sinners” to salvation. The more we can welcome the “sinners,” the more relevant we can be to them. What we do to the least of our brothers is most important.
What do people want in a church? What will attract them? What will keep them?
This may be the most challenging question. The disciples and followers and leaders in the Bible lived 2,000 or more years ago. Times have changed and people have changed. Even in just a few decades, people’s preferences have changed and continue to change, from generation to generation.
Seems we need to start with the basics. People need first a glimmer of hope. When they drive into the parking lot, they need to be made to feel as welcome as we can manage. They need to feel love, but even before that, they need to feel identification. If we look down at them, they cannot identify. We need to embrace them. (Cautiously, as too strong a welcome will create just as much unwelcome as no welcome.)
Identification with us and a little hope that we have something that can help them fill that God-shaped void they are feeling will bring them back for a second visit. In time, with continued encouragement and displays of welcome and hope, some of them, the ones that are ready, will stay.
What does the Bible say a church should be? What were the instructions Jesus gave us?
Jesus said lots about what a church should not be:
- Therefore, when you do a charitable deed, do not sound a trumpet before you as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory from men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. - Matthew 6:2
- And when you pray, you shall not be like the hypocrites. For they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Assuredly, I say to you, they have their reward. – Matthew 6:5
- These people draw near to Me with their mouth, and honor Me with their lips, but their heart is far from Me. And in vain they worship Me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men. – Matthew 15:8-9 (quoting Isaiah)
Jesus said to Peter that the gates of Hades would not prevail upon the Church. (Matthew 16:18) Have we built our church on the Rock that is Christ? Or have we instead built it on the shifting sands of the world? Can Satan prevail against our church? Are we willing to work to strengthen our walls? Would God build a church which is not able to withstand the attacks of the enemy? Are we operating our church in accordance with God’s will?
Are we asleep as the members of the Church of Sardis? Are we lukewarm as the Laodiceans? Have we forsaken our first Love as the Ephesians? How would Christ judge our church were he to visit in the flesh one Sunday? Do we welcome the poor, the needy, and the lost? Do we love the unlovable? Are we feeding His lambs? Would we welcome Jesus Christ Himself? Riding on a donkey, long beard, sandals?
Steve Robison is a twenty year resident of southern Delaware. An avid photographer and inspired poet, he is moved to share his view of the world through his art. He is nearing completion of a book of poems and writings on salvation, spiritual living, and growth. His website, www.livingthepoem.com contains many of his poems and other writings.
MY LIFE AS A PUSHER: A Caregiver’s Perspective
Betty Lewis Kasperski
Being constantly aware of our surroundings is something we do without thinking. We know to look both ways before crossing the street. We know not to eat something steaming hot. Trained by parental example or having suffered the uncomfortable results of challenging the laws of temperature and other things, we adjust our responses to our environment. Less than two years ago, my husband awoke with severe pain in his left upper thigh—a blood clot. To save his life, the doctors amputated his leg above the knee. Since that time he has moved about via wheelchair with me as his “pusher.” Our lives have changed dramatically since that day, and here are some of my observations.
Guiding someone in a wheelchair elevates your sensitivity to all elements in your path. All sorts of difficulties can appear:
- curb cut disintegrated—problem
- no curb cut—bigger problem
- plants in the way
- tables too close together
- rain, snow, cold, wind
- steps
- entrance to the restroom too narrow
- rails in the wrong place
- no rails
Situations of no concern to others become embarrassing or instantly uncomfortable issues. Frustration erupts for the one trying to adapt and the caregiver.
Even when you call ahead to check that your destination is accessible, when you arrive you may find out that what is called accessible and has passed code is not. Gratefully, many businesses, offices, public buildings, houses of worship have complied to become wheelchair friendly.
The issue that impacts me the most as the pusher is not that of accessibility challenges. What hits me between the eyes is the apparent classification of the person in the chair as invisible. How can the person who already draws the attention of others by their uniqueness be invisible? It seems that the perceived “handicap” is not the lack of a body part but that the whole being has been compromised. For example, when we go to a new doctor’s office, the person behind the counter asks me the questions and hands me the forms to be completed. Hello?! The patient has lost a limb, not the mouth and brain! If this happened only once, it would be tallied up to ignorance or insensitivity, but it happens on a regular basis. Now, if it bothers me—the pusher—how does it make the “pushee” feel? Without competence, stripped of independence—INVISIBLE! A bruised body is further compounded by the repeated battering of the ego.
Besides invisibility, uneasiness is demonstrated by others around anyone in a wheelchair. There are certainly looks of compassion and a willingness to assist which are welcome. What hurts are the looks of pity. No one ever asked to be “in the chair.” Everyday tasks of dressing, negotiating the transfer from the chair to the car and even into the barber’s chair can be monumental achievements. Just treat the rider and the pusher as friends to be enjoyed, or even annoyed at sometimes. You know like other friends and family. The situation has changed—not the people.
My final observation from this pusher as a change in the lifestyle since the chair came along is not related to any injury, operation or disease—it is the isolation. Physical isolation due to inaccessible locations and events will always be part of our lives. But the bigger one is isolation from family and friends when even more involvement is needed. Not that we have been neglected, but two years ago we had different needs and perspective too.
Perhaps a comment from my fourth grade Sunday school teacher will better illustrate this point. Miss Eleanor had been badly burned in a house fire and her face configuration was frightening to our cluster of young girls. She wisely told us to remember that behind her bruised cheeks and forehead was a loving teacher who’s Lord found everyone beautiful
A wheelchair is just a means to travel from one place to another—it is not the person. Your friend who has any type of challenge does not want to be invisible, pitied or isolated but just to be your friend. So go with your friend to a movie instead of bowling. You can’t knock the pins down either!
Betty Lewis Kasperski- Betty hails from northern New Jersey and moved to Georgetown, DE four years ago. Trained in college as a high school history teacher she enjoyed that profession for a number of years. The excitement of the real estate field captured her and she managed apartment complexes, owned her own real estate franchise office and managed a large office for a national concern. She maintains a broker’s license in NJ and Delaware. She continues to list and sell residential and commercial real estate. Her essays often reflect her personal experiences or her observations of others. Active in the church her whole life, her powerful faith comes through in her writing.
Her God-given writing talent has become her pulpit to others.
Flowers and Weeds
Judi Folmsbee
When you see an unkempt flower garden, what do you see first? Do you really see the flowers in all their beauty with the vibrant sun-filled colors, or do you really see the ugly overwhelming take charge weeds?
One day while I was in my yard, I noticed that I had neglected the flower garden that surrounded my deck. My deck is my refuge and favorite place to be in the summertime. When I sit on the deck I can hear the birds singing, and the wind whistling through the trees. I watch the humming birds dash around the rose of Sharon. I can smell the pine needles. I can see my beautiful impatiens with their shades of pink, purple, red and orange surrounding the deck like a picture frame.
When I realized that I had not weeded the garden in a while, I began to think. That day all I could see were the weeds. The flowers were still there, but the ugly weeds were overpowering the beautiful flowers. As I began to remove the weeds, I wondered if I lived everyday the way I viewed the garden that day. The flowers represented the beautiful and positive in everything that God has created. The weeds represented the ugly and negative in each one of us.
Do I find the positive and beautiful in my husband, my children, my students, my friends, and people I see on the street? Or.. Do I find the negative and ugly in my husband, my children, my students, my friends, and people on the street?
Song of Solomon Chapter 2 verse 1 says, “ I am the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the Valleys.” Verse 12 says, “ The flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; (or Matt 6:30 – and if God care so wonderfully for flowers that are here today and gone tomorrow, won’t he more surely care for you, o men of little faith?)
Have you ever thought about it? Are you the flower? Do you find the good, the positive, and the beautiful in everyone first, without judgment? Are you the weed? Are you the weed that finds the negative and ugly and spreads too far, too fast before it is controlled?
All of us should be the flowers spreading beauty, positiveness, and goodness.
I Samuel 16:7 says: “ Look not on his countenance, or on the height of his stature; because I have refused him: for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart.”
Judi lives in Ellendale, DE with her husband Rick. She is an elementary special education teacher and has taught Sunday school over the years. She has self-published three children’s books and was one of the contributors for Candy Abbott’s Interactive Journal, a student workbook for Gavin Goodfellow: The Lure of the Burnt Swamp. Judi also writes inspirational articles that have been published in church bulletins and newspapers. She can be reached via email.
~ River Of Gold ~
LORI DINGMAN
November 3, 2005
-
Trees dressed in vivid colors
of gold, orange
red and yellow leaves
In the midst of autumn splendor
she loved walking with her King
~
The longer they strolled
the more she enjoyed the majesty
of His presence
and began to thank Him
for who He is
~
In awe of His perfection
and glory as they enjoyed the afternoon
she humbly asked her Savior
to help her understand
the reasons she endured difficulties
~
'My Child, because I love you
I wept in the midst
of watching you
But it was necessary
to shape your heart
so that in my likeness you would be'
~
At first glance it seemed
like just a river
and the purpose initially
was unclear - then she knelt
beside her Savior at the river's edge
and gently touched
the hem of His garment
~
Instantly she felt
something unmistakable
that spoke to her soul
~
Because He knows the depth
of her Love
and how she has longed
to serve Him
and strives to please Him in all ways
~
He smiled at the sincerity
of her worship
as He listened to her gratitude forabundant blessings,
daily guidance, strength
and the wisdom of Solomon
~
The longer she knelt
beside her King
the more it all made senseEach time her tears flowed
her faith never faltered
Instead she held tighter to His hand
Her trust never diminishing
~
If you walked with Jesus
through autumn's splendor
unaware of your destination
would you also continue
to hold tight to His hand
and trust where He leads you
without questioning His perfect plan?
Karen H. Whiting
Karen has been writing for 14 years. She has ten published books, two more to be released by the end of 2009, and a few more under contract. Karen is also a contributing writer for Focus on the Family’s Focus on Your Child, Takeout: Family Faith on the Go, and a Connecticut denominational newspaper. At her link, www.karenhwhiting.com, you can view two of her TV interviews and find out about her books for women, family, and tween girls (ages 9-12). Karen has a heart for families and writes and speaks to strengthen relationships within the home.
