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A Chorus of Peeps

“Good morning – “

“You’re up early!”

“Well, I wanted to catch you on your morning walk. I woke up wondering whether the chorus of spring peepers was singing around the lake yet.”

“It’s not quite warm enough. It’s only supposed to be 63 degrees in Erie today. Maybe next week.”

“Really?  We’re supposed to have another blizzard this weekend.”

“Well, that’s a Rocky Mountain springtime for ya. Once we hear them, we will have three more freezes – then, it’s truly spring!”

“The coming of the peepers foretells three more freezes?”

“Oh yes. There’s the onion leek melt, the sweet pea melt, and one more – I’m having a memory melt right now.”

“Ah, ‘Singing Spring’ comes in notes and melts, like your book.”

“None too soon.”  I’m huffing and need to hang up on this conversation in order to accomplish this morning’s walk.

Spring Peeper

“Hey, I woke up in one of those post-dream phases, the phase where you’re not asleep but not quite awake, either.”  But, my friend also has to go. We say our ‘goodbyes,’ and my thoughts turn inward, dredging up memories, I mean, really distant memories – from lifetimes ago. Mostly good ones. These memories came from this morning’s dream.

A recent National Geographic study polled people around the world—including more than 600 featured in just one study—who say they experienced a new phenomenon: coronavirus pandemic dreams.

Science has long suggested that dream content and emotions are connected to well-being while we’re awake. Bizarre dreams laden with symbolism allow some dreamers to overcome intense memories or everyday psychological stressors within the safety of their subconscious.

The study concludes,

The virus is invisible, and I think that’s why it’s transformed into so many different things.”—Deirdre Barrett, Harvard University

I agree with Deirdre. The virus is invisible, and I think that’s why it’s transformed into affecting our dream state.

I keep hearing about the virus. I have lost friends to it. But, we never really see it, do we? Most of us are prevented from seeing the worst of it, even with our loved ones.

This next season of social isolation comes with a promise of a new vaccine. It’s a trade-up.

So as I was saying, I was dreaming of my childhood lunchtime trade-ups. I was in one of those post-dream phases where you’re not asleep but not quite awake, either: the best time to rein in the edges of your dream and frame it before it is erased by cornflakes and coffee and morning light.

I remained as still as possible to capture the details.

We were all back in elementary school. As dreams rarely make sense, my classmates included pint-sized versions of people I have known throughout my lifetime, even my grandmother.

No matter that she was in grade school a full 60+ years before I was; dreams are like that.

So as dreams go – 

We were out on the playground. It was recess and lunchtime and a cluster of us were sitting cross-legged in a circle near the swing set. I remember there was a teeter-totter there, too.

We were trading lunches.

  • Two Twinkies for a homemade cookie.
  • Bologna for a PBJ.
  • An apple for a Hershey Bar … (is that a fair trade, really?)

A kid named Robert was in the circle, and he had a liverwurst sandwich. This detail rang true – there really was a kid named Robert in the first grade whose mom packed a liverwurst sandwich nearly every day. Maybe his mom had told him how the iron in it would make him grow up to be a muscle man, but Robert seemed to like it and rarely traded it out. He probably wouldn’t have very many takers, anyway.

I mean, liverwurst.

It was only a dream, but it had real slices of reality sandwiched in.

Maybe you, too, shared lunchtime negotiations back in the day.

You got rid of those vegetables and Mom was none the wiser.

We are almost always alert to something better out there. Trading.

Those murky-dream-drenched lunch swaps – snippets of real memories rising to greet me during the Great Sequester of 2020 and continuing through the springtime of 2021 with the promise of a trade-up. Is there a better vaccine to conquer our isolating fear of the real thing?

Trading lunch is metaphor-speak for what many of us are actually doing these days.

Opening our lunch pail, assessing the situation, and looking up to see what tastes better on that day. Negotiating a trade, pooling our resources, helping each other survive the “liverwurst” of life.

What if?

What if we traded sorrows for singing with a chorus of peeps?

Worry for watching the patterns. What is God doing?

Anxiety for trust in the available flavors and coming flowers.

News grazing for cloud gazing.

Swollen ankles for walking the dog.

Despair for Curiosity.

Trading trauma for a sweet pet whose fur accepts our tears.

These are good swaps, life-giving, even.

Switching out the bologna for iron-rich blood, if not liverwurst, then ribeye; trading the mundane for the moment you will savor and return to for a tasty reminder during a day of scarcity.

There’s a song lyric from a favorite musical that goes like this:

The clouded sun shall brightly rise,

And songs be heard instead of sighs.”

What a glorious swap!

A chorus of songs rising up to conquer the gloom – a goofy, ravaged, joyful mix of imperfect voices rise in natural praises every day.

Gathering momentum, drowning out the cries and making sense of the sighs.

I know the swampy spring peepers will lay bitsy eggs, attaching them to vegetation in shallow waters.  They may hatch in four short days. Their dream state will end in an energetic wetland chorus.

I rouse myself from my sleepy knowledge-memories to walk amongst the happy spring peepers, now camouflaged, who are not beleaguered by any virus. Their chorus will come melodiously and noisy overnight, regardless.

Crisp late-winter Lake Erie air has done its job. My lungs are woke. My stomach rumbles.

Do you know that 24 hours before the Spring Peepers are singing under the tell-tale ‘X’ marking on their backs, they are wee black tadpoles swimming underwater? Full metamorphosis takes an uncanny 24 hours!

Oh, Get ready!

We will wake from this dreamlike state one day, looking to each other for guidance into the light of a New Normal. We will add our voices to the chorus frogs.

Pass me the Corn Flakes, I can hardly wait.

Kathy Joy
is the author of Singing Spring, one book in the Breath of Joy seasonal coffee-table series. This month, her children’s picture book released to the public, Will You Hold My Story? This Shell Silverstein-esque story features the adult idea of listening to a child’s tales in a Mister Rogers-esque neighborhood.

Click through to Amazon’s Learn More page here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08RLV59WH/
Will You Hold My Story? Book Launch Activities Here: https://www.facebook.com/events/749089085979643
Find Singing Spring Gift Book A Breath of Joy here
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A Spouse’s Blessed Persuasion

By G.K. Johnson, author of The Zealots

Suddenly I was out of excuses. I stood at the starting line of a race I’d always wanted to run. When a major life change came our way, my husband and I decided that “now” was the time to give my writing dream a shot. Or at least, my wise husband did. God bless him. I started getting excited.

For years, I knew the story God had put on my heart. I knew who I wanted my main character to be and I knew the general gist of the storyline, random points of climax, the fuzzy details between.

Whenever I was asked about a dream I hoped to achieve in my lifetime, I often said, “I want to write a book!” But for years I never put pen to paper. The thought of doing so wore the luster off the idea of being an author. How would I begin? If I didn’t start the ‘right’ way, all would be lost!

Fear of Being a ‘Said Failure’

Looking back on it now, I know the reason I kept putting off my dream. I was afraid of failure.

Perhaps more than being afraid of failure, I was afraid of the ensuing consequences of being a ‘said failure’. What would it mean about me if I wrote something I thought was good, only to find out nobody else liked it? Telling people I had the intention to write a book one day sounded great and impressive but. . . hollow because I never actually sat down to do it.

My husband has a keen sense of discernment. He knew the real reason I was holding back the writing before I did. He urged me to take this opportunity to fulfill my dream. To treat writing like a job and get serious about it.

Getting Serious

I began to imagine my life as a writer. I pictured myself holding a beautifully covered novel, signing books, speaking at events. With these visions in mind, I sat down at my Mac one morning and hit ‘go’ on my stopwatch, the closest thing I had to ‘clocking in.’

I began to write no matter how I felt. I began treating writing like a job. My intention was to write for eight hours. If I was treating this like a job and giving it my utmost effort, that was the thing to do, right? I had no outline, I literally just started writing.

Two Hours In, Mentally Exhausted

Library Story Hour – The Zealots

I know some people can write in coffee shops or listen to music in the background and be incredibly productive but that’s not me. When I write I need silence. This is a bummer because I love the romantic idea of writing a bestseller in a coffee shop while drinking a mocha. It just doesn’t work for me. Anyway. I had typed for two hours and I felt pretty good about what I had on paper, but my brain was worn out.

I stared out the window and wondered how I was going to fill six more hours with productive writing when I felt creatively wrung out. It felt as though my fear of being a failure was already becoming a reality.

What Happened

Halfway through I realized I really needed an outline and wrote one.

After that day of trying to write for eight hours, I realized that was an impossible goal. For me at least. My sweet spot used to be two to four hours of writing a day. Any more than that, and I noticed that the quality of my writing went downhill.

Ultimately I finished that novel several months later.

This time period included several teary breakdowns in which I insisted ‘I can’t do this’ and my husband reminded me I could.

My writing career got even more complicated when our baby came home. Now, I needed to consult with my editor, make changes, rereads, and begin to blog. I squeezed in writing between my infant son’s nap times.

I’m learning that the practice of writing is a fluid thing-ebbing and flowing with seasons of life. I brew myself a cup of coffee for that romantic ‘close-as-I-can-get to a coffee shop’ feeling, but my brew usually gets cold before I drink it. Why? Because my goal is to write and I’m doing that.

My finished manuscript was accepted by a publisher, edited, and finally, my book was published by Capture Books, complete with the important aspects that make a professionally published book sell (hooray!).

In the first month after its release, I didn’t do any book signing events unless you count the ones I signed at my dining room table and sent out. And no one has asked me to speak at their event. Of course, there is a pandemic needing to be quieted for the population to feel comfy in group settings.

In the Midst of the Process

I sent my book to some friends for their feedback and while most of them said nice things, some didn’t like every part of the book.

Yikes, that must have triggered my fear of failure, right?

Well yes and no. Yes, I would be happy if everyone who picked up my book loved it! And yes, it stings a little when someone tells me they don’t like a certain part. But it’s impossible that every person would connect with my genre and writing style. Concerning the story critique, if I’m being honest, I appreciate their input! It’s cliche, but without constructive criticism, it would be impossible for me to grow as a writer. So I’m doing my best to take all the feedback and sort through it. This is the life of a writer.

This week, I was awarded a stunning editorial review from BookLife, an arm of Publishers Weekly.  You may want to read it here.

Here’s the Thing. . . I-Wrote-A-Book.

God told me to write a story and I wrote it. Perhaps this has been the biggest takeaway for me from this entire process. At the end of the day, regardless of whether everyone likes it, I followed through. So when God puts something on your heart believe that He will give you the resources to do it. The support of my husband was crucial throughout the process of writing The Zealots. He is God’s blessing to me.

That first step is scary, but I promise that you will learn so much in following through and accepting the resources the Lord offers. Let someone special in to your writing life to hold you accountable and to help persuade you when you are not “feeling it.” The Lord will be with you every step of the way. When you’re listening to His voice you can’t fail.

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“First” Ain’t Everything

By Laura Bartnick from Welcome to the Shivoo

What does John 1:1 mean?

“In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.

Nothing exists without this Word.”

Just imagine, in the beginning, God announced the news, “Hey, watch the beginning of EVERYTHING!”

SUNRISES! SUNRISES AND SUNSETS COMING!  SUMMERTIME SWIMMING IS JUST AROUND THE CORNER! WHEELS ON THE DUSTY ROAD AHEAD! FRESH PEACHES IN THE NEWS TODAY! CHERRIES, LAUGHTER! PLUMS, KISSES! TUNES, HARMONY, AND RHYTHMS! DEBATES ABOUT ENGINEERED SEEDS! STEEL AND IRON HIDDEN FOR SKYSCRAPERS! GREEN LIMES! GRASS FOR THATCH! EYES TO READ, FLIRT! EARS TO WHISPER INTO! POMEGRANATES! ROMAN NOSES! CHEDDAR AND CARAWAY!”

God announced everything with the Word of life.

Did you know that Christ was already in the beginning, not created by God, but being fully God, this God? Jesus, the Christ, is not only the Savior, but was this Logos Who summoned it all into existence. Colossians 1:16-18 explains that in Christ all things were created, things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities. All things were created through Him and for Him. Christ is before all things, and in Christ, all things hold together. He is also the Head of the Church, the first to rise from the dead so that in everything, He has the preeminence in and for Life!

His most clearly executed point of argument for Himself and His message to Earth was made in the flesh, the personification of Himself, the person of—

JESUSWHO WAS, AND IS THE LOGOS!

WATCH FOR HIM.

I can see it now: God the Father and God the Word breathed, in the beginning, which light appeared on the waft of the Holy Spirit. Three Persons, One Front, so unified that They could only be separated for one sacred purpose. And, even on that painful separation, They were agreed.

His Word didn’t fall with gravity from lips as we understand lips. But lifted by the experience of creating our planetary spheres including Earth’s own boundaries, He planted objects. The Word began to fill up the void with the sound and the activity of an announcement breeding results. God’s own language began to shine. To find life, ongoing life in a myriad of defining ways.

Notes on the page began to sing their tones, their lengths, their harmonies, and together they scattered upward into the heavens, a choir.

Photo by Daniel Frank on Pexels.com

The waters of the heavens were layered for God’s purposes by another word and they began to flow. The sea was then separated from the dry land. Animals were created––each after their kind––on another breath, another heavenly word. The seeds and leafy vegetation began to spring from the earth and curl into patterned whorls on another spiritual exhale, another word of inspiration. Then, God formed flesh. In God’s image, both male and female.

I’m curious, though. How did God breathe His full expressive Self into the flesh of Christ thousands of years later? And, how did God insert the Logos into a living, written Word that lies published on a coffee table, bookshelf or on a desk seemingly inert, or in the pockets of so many? Was God’s language only a verbal expression, “The Word?” Or, did it include physical energy flung like stones into a pool, some physiological forms of communication as well?

Referring to “The Word” in a biblical sense is a mystery to Earthlings. We search our alphabet for symbols and references of connotations to the “Logos” because it is so difficult to understand the term, the God-breathed WORD.

I just love word definitions and following their connotations through. So, when I looked up the term, “word,” the meaning of this verse invited me in for a deeper look.

The Word, translated, does not mean an English language noun. It does not mean that the Word existed only after Gutenberg’s first publishing of the Bible. It does not mean that God generated His impressions only to the left side of the human brain, which tends to control aspects of language and logic, or to the right side of the brain, which tends to handle spatial and visual comprehension.

The LOGOS, in its essential definition, means the Essential Point of Expression or Argument.[i] In this case, the biblical author, John, uses the Logos creatively by applying it to the greatest argument for the living God, as the incarnation of God, begotten Son, best human, fully lit up for all to see.

“Word” is actually an incredibly bad translation of logos.

The specific term, logos, in Greek philosophy, means “the central, defining principle or idea of an argument or philosophy.” In fact, it is the hub upon which all else within the system turns![ii] Logos is a term that would have been commonly known among the people to whom John, the disciple of Jesus, was writing.

So, “in the beginning,” as the beginning relates to Earth, our Father God and God the Son expressed what the Godhead wanted the world to know by:

1) personally mingling, walking, and talking with those created in His image,

2) lavishing on them a perfectly-created universe and the human form with perfectly working systems, expressions, and a will to act bodily, and

3) offering a unified form of necessary imagination and communication to people: the elegant and sword-like word of God full of history, math, law, natural science, prophecy, injunction, psychology, mercy, testimony, and justice. “Word” was the argument passed from generation to generation tucked inside image, song, drawing, story, human example, nature, and writings.

Photo by Ylanite Koppens on Pexels.com

The Word then, in every other sense of creative expression, is everything else—all the bits and pieces—that God wants us to know about Himself. From the gifts of music which evoke rooted emotions without lyrics, to ever-changing projections of His hand-eye coordination in nature. From the heavens and the Earth, to the comical animals and the fierce, to the fragrant and shady foliage, in diverse human abilities made in His image and imagination, and in the continuing recreation of this world’s cycle of each day and night. The heavens declare the glory of God. His harvests provide food for hungry mouths, showing the Father’s care. In the expression of God’s law, ordinances, statutes, poetry, drama, and peace in a variety of testimonies, stories, and letters of love contained in the Bible that the oil flows. All of this is God’s intentional Word to us.

How safe are we as co-creators, as copycats of Christ, since He is the Head of the Church[iii], since He goes before us in every creative aspect and since He also sits as the preeminent Judge of all?[iv] When I discovered this truth, my insecurities about my desires to create, the process of creating and researching whatever I was creating, the editing of what I’d created and the length of time it took to express myself properly, the space taken up in my room, the messes, I stopped apologizing. Instead, I focused on how to make everything I do, write, eat, drink, sing, love, or serve is to glorify God.[v] Artists are not necessarily lazy.  We live amidst the tensions of the unknown, distractions of creating, sin, and glory.

I often interrupt a creative process to answer the phone or doorbell, to do something more pragmatic,  more pressing, more fun, or more financially necessary. I have turned off my music when a friend or family member joins me in my own car. I am a conflicted soul. Aren’t most maker types this way? Some are more defiant in protecting their creative interests. But if someone asks me, “Whatcha doin’?” I’ve been known to say, “Oh, nothing. What are you doing?” as a means of deflecting attention away from me having to explain my art, my source of reflection, my songwriting, or my poetic process. What about the priority that God Himself puts on making things and creativity in the beginning?

FIRST ISN’T EVERYTHING, BUT FIRST IS PARAMOUNT

In the beginning, God revealed Himself by creating. Apparently, this was His heart’s desire. To create things, to be creative! The Father and Holy Spirit did this with the best form of persuasion.

I see that pattern of firsts because the phrase, “In the beginning”[i] is combined with, “God created” meaning His first entrepreneurial acts.[ii] These phrases are found in the first book of the Bible. First, first, first. The first book of the Holy Bible. First in our time (beginning), and first in God’s activity on our behalf (He is First). God’s Word was effectively creating (wording, speaking, breathing, expressing) light into the cosmos, going forth from the corporate office of the Godhead. God’s creativity skillfully set the stage for your personal salvation.

You could argue that creating was first more of a necessity than a priority. But an author sets the rules of His created world, and in the case of Earth, God’s rationale was to create first, and the finest creativity was set into a pocket of belonging to Him. He is our Creative Hub. Knowing Him is the beginning of learning His secrets.

The Father and Holy Spirit did this with the best form of persuasion. By offering His creative subjects a place and a time, growth and purpose, and a genetic footprint and bloodline, God gave every living thing a place to belong. God’s creative joy mingled with the first humans, almost as though a writer had entered into his own plot becoming a character in his story.

In the beginning, there was, and is, The Being. There was, and still is, The Being’s energetic self-expression. Creating. Persuading. Through His artistic activity in nature, through many varied forms of communication, the revealed Logos welcomed human beings. He expressed Himself as their place of belonging. He offered this belonging to anyone in the world, for God so loved the world.[iii]

SO WHERE DO WE FIT? ARE WE IMPORTANT?

In one extraordinary move, God said, “Let’s make someone like us.”[iv]

He differentiated this living human being from his high ministering angels, from the low minerals of Earth, from all the flora and fauna, from breathing-yapping emotional animals procreating after their own kind, and from the asexual sun, moon, singing stars, and orbiting planets, by anointing the first man and woman with a measure of His own creativity. “I want family!” God declared.

Hebrews 2 tells us that Jesus calls us brothers and children. He is the One Who set us apart, and the ones set apart are of the same family. With a breath of His inspiration, humanity received layers of First Adam gifts:  inspiration, imagination, the ability to love, to learn in complexity. “Belonging” was defined as an ability to know Him personally, to be with the One who knows all things, to walk, work, and play in His gifts.  Then, Christ died to redeem us from sin’s domain.

Creativity came prior to salvation, to evangelism, to preaching, and teaching.

The Son, Jesus, was God’s creative power expressing His heart for a story and a place of belonging for all life. If you study it, the gift of creation, sin, and plan of salvation makes little sense to us. When this plan is fulfilled, it proves God’s creative excellence.

In the beginning, the incomprehensible Being expressed His attributes and benefits to us via the incredible architecture of His ongoing universe. With particularly, He measured and engineered systems so that this world became a place of belonging for us.

Without God’s wisdom in creation, nothing exists. Yet, creativity is ongoing.

When we work along with God’s inspiration, He offers us authority for this world and into the next. We’ve inherited enough of His legacy, enough purposeful cunning, and His Holy Spirit to help us understand and implement aspects of the Logos together.

When we express our own innovation with God’s blessing, we can differentiate a new species, discover a new form of things. New combinations of ideas and skills rise to divine inuendoes under His guidance. We join with Him for contemporary or future purposes.

Focused, thinking analytically, we can understand and implement science and physics well, write new books, design new designs, find new markets. We express more joy, broader peace, deeper concern, a purity, a true meekness, and wondrous self-confidence by accepting God’s mysteries. Let’s look for His ironical purposes, shall we?

  • Here’s one. Seek to become a more righteous character from day-to-day.
  • Here’s another. Exemplify sheer delight by writing around the secrets as you explore them yourself.
  • Here’s yet another! Write until intrigue infuses itself, beckoning you to spin off from the worn path, exploring the mysteries.

The Logos created the human mind to capture and direct paths of electricity, velocity, biological genes and viruses; to make engines, imagine wheels, design homes, plumbing, a space shuttle.  In other words, God gave us each a measure of His own creative intelligence.

Throughout the day, can you imagine bits of the Creator’s glory breaking off like bread crumbs, dropping a trail of joy in our processes, leading us on to the big Shivoo? Joy is the present assurance of the glory to come.

However, The Lord’s own particular glory is reserved for Himself. We can only sense hints of this glory in the feats of God’s miracles.

God often communicates through natural wonders to which adults become accustomed. It is the child who asks, “Why, how, who, and what?” Adults try to analyze wonders away scientifically as if these explanations substitute for the deeper truth that God designed physics. At some point, many a child will cease to wonder and accept others’ limited explanations about nature’s wonders. Yet, some adults continue to experience these wonders in human awe.

When the father of the prophet, Sampson, was first visited by the Angel of the Lord, the father asked, “What is your name?” The angel said His name was beyond understanding, secret and wonderful. Then, while the parents were offering a sacrifice, the angel ascended in the smoke of the fire (Judges 13:17-20). Recognizing that only the Angel of the Lord could rise into the air with the smoke and disappear, the parents fell on their faces, freaked out.  Wouldn’t you be? The Lord’s mysterious events on Earth are wonders to us because they come from the Wonderful One and from a different heaven, say, a different dimension.

Magic removes the Wonderful One from the equation by mimicking the wonder with a sleight of hand. Cutting these cords between the wonder and the Giver may feel fanciful, but the illusion is empty, leading to dead ends.

It was only when Adam and Eve broke confidence with their Creator[v] that the wonder of God’s Spirit separated from them. This is because God is Holy and cannot mingle with sin.[vi]

In love and goodness, the Lord devised another means of expression through connective blood and tissue in His covenant with us.

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Quiet Influence

By Tonya Jewel Blessing from the Bible study, Soothing Rain

I’ve been wearing the same perfume for over 30 years.

Every once in a while, I briefly try something new, but so far I’ve always reverted back to the familiar. The scent seems to fit me. It leaves its mark, but yet isn’t overpowering. It’s a soft blend of earthly tones that I think compliments me.

Influence is like a fragrance. It lingers. The scent is a reminder of something spoken or shared.

I’m not an “I am woman, hear me roar…” kind of gal. I prefer to live my life with grace and beauty – gently walking and touching the lives of others with more of a purr than a roar.

The Bible encourages women in 1 Peter 3:4 to cultivate inner beauty, the gentle, gracious kind that God delights in. In living for Christ, I want to leave my mark, footprints that show me walking beside someone else in his or her journey. I don’t want to go a single day without influencing someone for Jesus.

I pray this prayer, “I will follow You with a pure heart. Show me the people you want me to impact with biblical principles, a listening ear, and  encouragement for the journey of life.”

Every woman’s fragrance is different – even if the perfume is the same, once mixed with an individual’s body chemistry the scent changes.

Some fragrances are subtle, others a little more pronounced. The same is true of the inner beauty referred to in 1 Peter 3:4. Gentleness and graciousness look different on different women.

May our fragrance linger and be a reminder of God’s amazing love and grace – as a “quiet influence”.

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