peace descends on
empty churches, empty tabernacles,
unlit candles.
for one day Jesus leaves us alone,
to continue our business,
without nagging us about 'right' and 'wrong.'
wait.
it is great, wonderful, awesome, terrible, horrible
that
God should die,
grant our wish
and die.
and vindicate us, free us from our guilt.
it is good for us, that we should be here
now.
together.
with God.
Friday, March 29, 2013
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Holy Thursday
Hollowed stone closes on yet another ordinary day.
Who will betray you?
No, not I.
Darkness swallows moon and sun and stars.
If you have seen me
You have seen the Father also.
The world pauses
To consider the question.
Why even once?
After all that was and will be,
Why ever again?
Who would betray you, hand you over
Now?
Who will betray you?
No, not I.
Darkness swallows moon and sun and stars.
If you have seen me
You have seen the Father also.
The world pauses
To consider the question.
Why even once?
After all that was and will be,
Why ever again?
Who would betray you, hand you over
Now?
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Constructive Criticism
This week was spring break so had lots of time to study and write, not that I really used that time well or for that purpose necessarily, but it was there.
In writing world, Echoes of a New Earth (my latest novel attempt) didn't make it to the quarterfinals for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, but did get two free critiques of my first few chapters, both favorable overall, but suggesting where the writing could have been better. I probably shouldn't have rushed to submit, but in a way I'm glad I did, because the advice is definitely solid.
I'm revising a short story I wrote a year ago and using some good advice that was given on my initial draft of that as well. That story was written shortly after my mother's death and essentially was my way of channeling a lot of feelings into one place. It is called The Glass Figurine and is about ... a glass figurine. Eventually, I'd like to revise another short story on which I received some really good advice and submit that to a horror/dark fantasy venue.
And then - there's that phrase again. Good advice. I've been procrastinating as a writer for so long. But for the past few months, even since NaNoWriMo (which felt like jumper cables to my writing battery) have been so blessed by writers' groups and editorial comments. Not only am I writing again, but sharing what I've written, which forces me to try to write well and relevantly.
This is hard. But I'm so grateful for it, for those who often without realizing they're doing it, continue to press me to speak up, to find my voice. It's really good to not be alone in any of this, but especially humbling when some put so much work into their craft AND pause to help others with theirs.
In writing world, Echoes of a New Earth (my latest novel attempt) didn't make it to the quarterfinals for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award, but did get two free critiques of my first few chapters, both favorable overall, but suggesting where the writing could have been better. I probably shouldn't have rushed to submit, but in a way I'm glad I did, because the advice is definitely solid.
I'm revising a short story I wrote a year ago and using some good advice that was given on my initial draft of that as well. That story was written shortly after my mother's death and essentially was my way of channeling a lot of feelings into one place. It is called The Glass Figurine and is about ... a glass figurine. Eventually, I'd like to revise another short story on which I received some really good advice and submit that to a horror/dark fantasy venue.
And then - there's that phrase again. Good advice. I've been procrastinating as a writer for so long. But for the past few months, even since NaNoWriMo (which felt like jumper cables to my writing battery) have been so blessed by writers' groups and editorial comments. Not only am I writing again, but sharing what I've written, which forces me to try to write well and relevantly.
This is hard. But I'm so grateful for it, for those who often without realizing they're doing it, continue to press me to speak up, to find my voice. It's really good to not be alone in any of this, but especially humbling when some put so much work into their craft AND pause to help others with theirs.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
The Prodigal Son
The Gospel for Laetare Sunday is on the Prodigal Son. In a way, I empathize with all three members of the story, which is kind of the point. On one hand, I feel like the runaway son, who misuses God's gifts all too often. I've also been the elder son, wondering why some people seem to have it so easy.
Finally, though, when it comes to the Church and how I feel about it in general, I feel like the Father. If it's that sometimes I sound angry, or feel like a dog chewing on the same bone. I'm still watching, gazing in the distance, hoping for that day when we can all sit together at one feast table. When we can put aside the petty rivalries and animosities, and just love each other. Even if that day will never come. If it ever does I'll be there more than happy to just forget all those stupid things that don't even matter.
That's why - and I don't even know how to phrase this - excommunicating people as a political ploy. We say oops. We say well ... both sides made mistakes. And if only the other person would repent and stop doing <blank> Are we so sure Jesus Himself is so angry with that person?
It's not just funny - haha. It's not just - oops. Jesus said Judge not lest ye be judged. He didn't say - unless you're the pope, or unless you're a cardinal or a bishop. One day there will be a reckoning. And I don't believe people are necessarily going to go to hell for that.
But I'm sure that one day, those who acted with pride will have to look at the person they rejected and realize that they will have to spend forever with this person knowing that when the time came they chose not to help. For all eternity, we'll know who stuck it out and went the extra mile, who did the right thing, and who just couldn't be bothered. We'll know in ourselves. In fact, we know it right now.
Finally, though, when it comes to the Church and how I feel about it in general, I feel like the Father. If it's that sometimes I sound angry, or feel like a dog chewing on the same bone. I'm still watching, gazing in the distance, hoping for that day when we can all sit together at one feast table. When we can put aside the petty rivalries and animosities, and just love each other. Even if that day will never come. If it ever does I'll be there more than happy to just forget all those stupid things that don't even matter.
That's why - and I don't even know how to phrase this - excommunicating people as a political ploy. We say oops. We say well ... both sides made mistakes. And if only the other person would repent and stop doing <blank> Are we so sure Jesus Himself is so angry with that person?
It's not just funny - haha. It's not just - oops. Jesus said Judge not lest ye be judged. He didn't say - unless you're the pope, or unless you're a cardinal or a bishop. One day there will be a reckoning. And I don't believe people are necessarily going to go to hell for that.
But I'm sure that one day, those who acted with pride will have to look at the person they rejected and realize that they will have to spend forever with this person knowing that when the time came they chose not to help. For all eternity, we'll know who stuck it out and went the extra mile, who did the right thing, and who just couldn't be bothered. We'll know in ourselves. In fact, we know it right now.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
A Day Late and ... That's all I've Got
I'm a day behind my personal Saturday deadline for posting something to do with writing and my main excuse is ... I got 50 cents off Breaking Dawn 2 at Redbox. AND I am working on a story for Sword and Sorceress, to submit and in my wildest dreams get in. I finished - sort of - a draft of a story for Fantasy Writer's about parallel universes.
I need to not write about parallel universes, especially when I only have a month to write.
Now I'm starting to think about final papers and presentations and other evil mean beasties.
This week I have to write about someone writing about Thomas Aquinas. And all I can think is - this is my life.... I have entered into some bizarre parallel universe wherein I am writing about someone writing about Thomas Aquinas.
AHH!!
Okay watching Doctor Who probably doesn't help either. Watching Doctor Who and Breaking Dawn. My mind is like - these two things cannot exist together.
I want to live in just one universe. One universe is hard enough. So maybe that's why I'm editing this story about a young woman who is trying to preserve the figurine which is all she has left of her dead mother. Who is dead. But she still has this glass figurine.
That feels more manageable. Sure the universe is still not real because it has magic and stuff like that. But, it is still only one universe. No time travel. No temporal or spatial shifts to have to explain and try to capture - unsuccessfully - in words, until I'm frankly bored with it and annoyed myself. It almost feels relaxing..
One universe for the next month or so.. And maybe, just maybe I can manage that as a writer who also has to from time to time visit 'reality' to pass finals and get laundry done. And get my blogs posted on time. And pay regular visits to the place of torture - aka fitness room.
I need to not write about parallel universes, especially when I only have a month to write.
Now I'm starting to think about final papers and presentations and other evil mean beasties.
This week I have to write about someone writing about Thomas Aquinas. And all I can think is - this is my life.... I have entered into some bizarre parallel universe wherein I am writing about someone writing about Thomas Aquinas.
AHH!!
Okay watching Doctor Who probably doesn't help either. Watching Doctor Who and Breaking Dawn. My mind is like - these two things cannot exist together.
I want to live in just one universe. One universe is hard enough. So maybe that's why I'm editing this story about a young woman who is trying to preserve the figurine which is all she has left of her dead mother. Who is dead. But she still has this glass figurine.
That feels more manageable. Sure the universe is still not real because it has magic and stuff like that. But, it is still only one universe. No time travel. No temporal or spatial shifts to have to explain and try to capture - unsuccessfully - in words, until I'm frankly bored with it and annoyed myself. It almost feels relaxing..
One universe for the next month or so.. And maybe, just maybe I can manage that as a writer who also has to from time to time visit 'reality' to pass finals and get laundry done. And get my blogs posted on time. And pay regular visits to the place of torture - aka fitness room.
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