Hope for the hurting

I am delighted to welcome Liz Carter onto my blog today. Her beautiful new book, Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and Poems of Hope in the Hurtingwhich I had the joy of endorsing, is out today. I am thrilled that she agreed to share a little about the writing process and what life was like for her while she was writing it. Like the experience I had while writing my latest devotional, Liz was, at times, in deep despair and isolation when putting this book together. Wrestling with our own circumstances, looking to the Bible and trying to find some sort of sense for ourselves but also to bring hope to others is at the heart of much of the writing we both do. She is such a talented writer, weaving honest reflections with thought-provoking imagery. I commend her book to you wholeheartedly – it would make a wonderful Christmas present. I would definitely describe it as ‘hope for the hurting’. Here are her answers to a few questions I posed to her.

Tell me about the writing process during the isolation of shielding

When I first received the shielding letter back in March, I was shocked and fearful, the words ‘at risk of severe illness’ pounding through my mind. When I began to get into the swing of shielding, though, I thought I had it sorted, I thought I had a plan: I would finish the book I’d been working on for a while, a book about our identity in Jesus and God’s back-to-front kingdom. I told myself shielding wouldn’t be a huge issue because I was used to being isolated at home for long periods when ill with my lifelong lung condition. But I simply didn’t take into account the mental toll the whole thing would take, and how being separated from my family would send me into some dark days and darker nights. It felt as if the words were slipping away, as if this was not going to plan. It was as if a door was slammed in my face and I broke into pieces, already battered by isolation

Then I started to write some poetry about the pandemic and about the darkness I found myself in. I’d written so much before about living in physical pain, but this time the pain went further into my mind and the words began to flow in the most unexpected direction. At around the same time a couple of friends suggested I collected together some of the stories and poems from my website into a book, and so the idea for Treasure in Dark Places was born – and then grew so much wider, with mostly new material written over the painful time of shielding.

Was writing this new book a form of lament for you at times? 

Definitely. I found that words were pouring out that seemed almost too sharp, too vulnerable, too real at times, and they were words of lament. They were words that were birthed in struggle and that sat there in the pit with me, like the words of so many of the Psalmists who were never afraid to lay out their stark agony before God. Many of these Psalms have been a huge help to me over years of living with pain, and their words spoke even more deeply to me over these months, with their honest agony and their call to remember and to praise within the storm. 

I think that as Christians we often forget how to lament, or even feel that lament should not be given a place in our prayer lives or in our corporate worship. We’ve somehow inherited the twisted idea that we should only, ever, be living in great joy, unaffected by the sadness around us, in a kind of damaging triumphalism that leads us to feel as though we are letting God down when we turn to sadness, anger or other big emotions. But the Bible gives us permission to express those things in big loud voices, to shout out our pain, to cry out our struggle, to weep at the feet of Jesus when it all gets too much. For me, my writing this summer was a long lament and a choice to turn to God in the midst of it, so some of the poems in the book are more melancholic, and others turn more quickly to hope.

Treasure in dark places - hope for the hurting

How different was it to write the poetry and imaginative prose sections?

I found that in many of my stories I turned to poetic devices and phrases within the text at times, in order to echo the poetry. The main difference is that with the stories I needed to stop and consider the form, the overall framework and the beginning, middle and end – not so much to plan in depth, but to take more time to shape the piece. However, with the poems, they were more free-falling, the words hitting the page where they wished to and generally staying there in some form. Some of the poems are written in rhyme or with rhyming elements, and this took more thinking about, but they were generally born out of words that tumbled out rather than any great planning on my part!Writing poetry and short stories is very different in terms of how I approach the piece, yet in this book both come from a deep place of hope, the hope God imbues me with even when it hurts.

What do you want readers to get from spending time with your new book?

My prayer is that readers will get a glimpse of the hope we find in Jesus through these pieces, that they will unearth the treasures that are sometimes only to be found in the deepest darkness. I want readers to know they are not alone in their struggle, that it is okay to struggle as a Christian and that they are not somehow failing God or anybody else when life is tough. My poems and prose ultimately point to Jesus, who went through the very worst of suffering and understands our pain more than anyone else ever could, and so stands with us within our darkness, allowing his light to puncture through and flood us in his incomparable love.

PS Liz and I are both part of the Association of Christian Writers, and both write monthly posts for their More than Writers blog. Liz wrote one about how she was feeling on the eve of publication day, and I wrote one suggesting ways we can support one another as writers. Do take a look if you are interested.

Liz Carter is an author and poet who writes about finding gold in the mess of life. She lives with long-term lung disease and has written Catching Contentment: How to be Holy Satisfied (IVP) and an accompanying study course. Her new book, Treasure in Dark Places: Stories and poems of hope in the hurtingis out now and available in paperback or ebook at online stores.

National Poetry Day

To celebrate National Poetry Day, I have the pleasure of introducing Janet Morley as guest blogger on my site today.

I am fortunate enough to have had my new book, Love Set You Going – poems of the heart (SPCK) published just as we are celebrating the importance of poetry in our lives. Some readers will immediately identify with this, while others may feel that they have never really seen the point of poetry – or believe it to be a bit of a niche interest, an escape from the real world. 

But I believe that poetry is needed more than ever in the turbulent world we are living in, where language is used in highly manipulative, quick-fire ways to conceal what is really going on. By contrast, poetry seeks to be truthful; it pays close attention to detail, whether in the landscape of politics or the human heart. It makes us slow down and attend to language that is pared down and carefully shaped, with layers of insight available as we engage our own brain and heart in the search for meaning. 

As such, poetry is a real resource for spiritual exploration, and I enjoy introducing Christians who have never ‘got’ poetry (and indeed poetry lovers who have never quite ‘got’ Christian faith) to its extraordinary power to make us go deep. This is what my selection of poems and interpretative commentaries try to do. While some of the individual poems are explicitly religious, many are not so – but they all address important human issues of life and death that Christians should be concerned with.

Love Set You Going is a book of love poetry, but with a difference. Most collections of love poems centre just on erotic or romantic yearnings only (and usually only in that first flush of enthusiasm). But there are many different kinds of love, and love itself has different moods and seasons over time. There is the primary love between parents and vulnerable infants, an ever-shifting relationship that can almost reverse itself by the time parents themselves become frail. Of course there is passionate, erotic love – but this may be undeclared, or unreciprocated, or may go wrong – or it may become a mature companionship that does endure until the death of one partner and the deep grief of the other. But all our human loves are rooted in God, who created us in love and destined us to be fully known and fully loved in eternity.

As the introduction of Love Set You Going puts it:

‘In this anthology, the selected poems are grouped into sections: Up and down the generations; Grown up love; God and the human heart; and a short Postscript. The reader will find that there are many resonances between the sections, since we are constantly moved to understand one kind of love by reference to another: the earliest kind of love experienced by a needy infant is a startling image of God’s love for us; an adult lover soothes his beloved to sleep almost as if he were singing a lullaby to a child; the restless searching of a passionate woman for her lost lover becomes a metaphor of the soul’s seeking after God; and so on. In many of the poems, we see that images of the natural world are vital to conveying love’s force and bodiliness: the changing seasons; the interplay of sunlight and darkness; outdoor activities like farming, mountain climbing, or walking in the woods or across the prairie; gazing at stars; following the flight of birds; watching the tides. It is as if we cannot love another without also being attentive to the vital details of the bodily world we live in. Love set us going; love formed us in the womb; we were made for love, and all our efforts at living well are nothing, if we lack love. And to love we shall return.

As a taster, Christina Rossetti’s long poem ‘What good shall my life do me?’ (quoted in full in the book) begins in a rather gloomy reflective space, as you can gather from the title. But she swiftly directs her attention away from herself towards the glories of creation – the ‘pomp of blossoms veined or pied’; ‘the winged ecstasies of birds’ – incorporating insights from both biblical psalms and contemporary scientific discoveries. It becomes a paean of praise for the ‘Love that moves the sun and the other stars’, in Dante’s phrase:

Love hangs this earth in space: Love rolls
Fair worlds rejoicing on their poles,
And girds them round with aureoles:

Love lights the sun: Love through the dark
Lights the moon’s evanescent arc:
Same Love lights up the glow-worm’s spark:

Love rears the great: Love tends the small:
Breaks off the yoke, breaks down the wall:
Accepteth all, fulfilleth all.

O ye who taste that Love is sweet,
Set waymarks for the doubtful feet
That stumble on in search of it.

Janet Morley is a freelance writer and retreat leader, who used to work for Christian Aid and the Methodist Church. She has produced a good deal of liturgical writing using inclusive language (All Desires Known), and her recent work has focused on poetry anthologies with commentaries that explore poetry as a spiritual resource (The Heart’s TimeHaphazard by StarlightOur Last Awakening). She is a grandmother of six.

Poignant poem for Mothers’ Day

Georgina (left) and her sister Bec

I read this post on Georgina’s own website and asked her whether it would be okay to include it as this week’s Unmasked: stories of authenticity blog. She is so honest, so raw and vulnerable, and I know this will speak to many for whom Mothers’ Day is bitter-sweet.

I have found Mothers’ Day hard before, trying to hold in tension my gratitude for the beautiful children I have and my sadness for the one I didn’t get to keep.  It is a day countless others find hard too.

This year feels like a whole new level of struggle is looming as I must face yet another difficult day, where my raw emotions will be dragged to the surface and shaken and beaten just a little more. It is six months since my sister passed away; Mothers’ Day without her is another hard ‘first’.  This time last year we had no idea our worlds were about to implode.  She was diagnosed a week later.  Writing this poem has helped me to face it better.  It is not a cry for pity or a judgment on those celebrating – just a pure reflection of my thoughts and emotions as I continue to walk this road of grief.  I hope it will make fellow strugglers feel less alone.

Mothers’ Day  

Last year, 
My sister took the early slot, 
Taking flowers and chocolates to Mum,
Mid afternoon,
Chatting casually 
Over coffee,
A Mothers’ Day like any other.
Her words scrawled in the card,
One of many down the years,
A relic now.
I went later,
With a now-forgotten gift,
For a glass of wine
and child-free conversation,
A luxury.

This year it’s just me.
I can never be enough,
Feel enough, write enough,
Say enough, do enough,
To plug the gaping hole now left,
One we hadn’t even seen coming then,
That ordinary Mothers’ Day last year.

Mothers’ Day looms.
I’ve survived it before,
The times it has threatened to suffocate me,
As a Mother, minus a child,
Taken too soon.
I’ve learned to live with that.

This time round I have a Mother and a child – two, in fact.
But Mothers’ Day threatens to swallow me whole in a different way,
As I face my own Mother,
With one child less and a pain 
No gift from me can dull.

And it threatens to swallow me whole 
When my niece crawls onto my lap 
Motherless,
Adapting, adjusting,
But with parts missing that will never be whole.
I cry as I imagine her,
Surrounded by classmates,
Gluing tissue paper to make-shift bouquets,
Wondering in her six-year old way 
If Mummy still sees,
Somewhere out beyond the stars.

Mothers’ Day.
I’ve learned to live with the pain
And the kick-in-the-teeth, 
It doles out, once a year,
Learned to count up the blessings as well as the cost.
Countless armies of others join me,
Teeth gritted through Facebook outpourings.
I’m not on my own.

But this year, 
Is harder than ever.
I lock my hands for the ride,
in the tightest of grips
As the Mothers’ Day rollercoaster plummets again,
Wondering if anyone will hear my screams.

Author interview: Claire Wong

Claire Wong photo
I am delighted to share part one of an interview with Claire, author of
The Runaway. She gives us an insight into writing poetry and novels, as well as how she fits writing into her everyday life. One of her poems can be found at the end, which is a wonderful added bonus!

Have you always been a writer?

I think so. I remember writing my first poem when I was five. It was based on the Nativity story: two children woke up one night to hear shepherds out in the street. Curious about the commotion, they decided to sneak out and follow them, and ended up coming to a stable where they saw something very unexpected!

 

Which writers influenced you as a child? And who influences you now? Who do you enjoy reading purely for pleasure too…

As a child I loved books set in other worlds, so Tolkien, C.S. Lewis and Brian Jacques were all favourites of mine. As a teenager I enjoyed the dark comedy of Lemony Snicket and classics like Jane Austen. These days, my biggest influences are contemporary writers like Niall Williams and Susan Fletcher, but I still think of C.S. Lewis when I want to say something meaningful in an accessible way.

I enjoy reading books that don’t quite fit the main genres. They’re a risk, because you don’t know exactly what to expect if it isn’t a romance or a thriller or a historical mystery, but you stumble across some wonderful gems along the way.

You fit writing around a day job – how do you find the time, and is there a particular spot you like to write in?

At the moment, I’m in the office Monday to Thursday, and then Friday is my writing day. I think knowing I have a limited amount of time to write helps me be disciplined about making the most of it. I set up a workstation in the dining room, because it has a good-sized table and lots of natural light.

You write poetry – what prompted you to write The Runaway, your first novel?

I’ve been writing novels and short stories for a long time, but it’s taken me a while to finish one I was happy to see published. I suspect The Runaway ended up being that one because it contained a message and a story I felt compelled to tell.

I find poems easier to craft and hone quickly, in part simply because they are shorter and you can see where work is needed. I needed to give myself a lot more time to edit The Runaway before I showed it to anyone. I learned a lot from that process, which I’ll be able to apply to future novels!

Is there a big difference in the way you approached writing the book as opposed to your usual method for writing poetry?

You know, I’m surprised by the number of similarities! It began with an idea I felt I had to articulate – in this case the effects of a person leaving or being left behind, and the amazing extent of what’s possible when you choose to see the best in someone. I started scribbling in a notebook until it was full and then typed up those words so that I could rework them. One big difference was the sheer number of different voices I needed to develop for The Runaway – a poem usually only has one voice, but there was a whole cast of characters to grow here and I didn’t want them to all sound the same as each other!

Cannon's Mouth magazine coverWhat was the first piece of work you had published and how did that happen?

Back in 2013, I had a pair of poems published in a magazine called The Cannon’s Mouth. They were about how different people process loss and hope, and the way faith fits with those things. I’d decided to risk sending some of my work off to poetry magazines that year, which was a scary thing to do, but I’m pleased to say it paid off!

Claire will be sharing more about her book The Runaway in part two of this interview. For now, let me leave you with one of her poems, ‘Adrift’.

Set adrift in the dark
when the last blaze of evening colour
turns quiet on the waters
all her safety net routines in that sky furnace

how many meetings of the board
and quantifiable philosophies
did it take to rationalise the need
for that stealthy trip to shore?

They loosed the ropes
murmuring agreements and best interests
pushed this little boat to the tides
and she awoke to no landmarks
but blue horizons all around

and soon
she knows
She’ll be dancing on the waters

waves teem with songs like you’ve never heard
to be adrift in arms that catch you each time
is to be secure in the storm
so that not knowing is its own kind of certainty

direction comes in its own time
with a breath to the sails
though we’ve lost much that seemed precious
nothing’s lost in this place

 

I thank God for you

So many things I’ve meant to say
So much I’ve meant to show.
It’s easy letting time go by
And to think somehow you’ll know.
So I wrote this song to just make sure
You never doubt it’s true
That I thank God for you
I thank God for you

You spend yourself so freely
On the things you do for me
You’re always there to lift me up
When I’m less than I should be
To earn the kind of love you give
There’s nothing I could do
And I thank God for you
I thank God for you

I thank God because He’s given me
A lover and a friend
With a heart that I can trust in
Through it all until the end
I thank God because you give more
Than I had ever hoped to find
No one else this side of heaven
Gives me so much peace of mind

The years have gone so quickly
Since we changed to one from two
But time has just intensified
The bond I share with you
And yes, I’d do it all again
To love you as I do
I thank God for you
I thank God for you