Christmas Journey

 

This Christmas I had the opportunity to write the material for a Christmas Prayer Journey, which invites people to a time of reflection and prayer while walking around a beautiful acreage. I shared the booklet on my website, and I would like to extend an invitation for anyone who is interested in checking it out:

Christmas Journey

This Christmas season has been really hard for me, as I am sure it is for many others. I really miss my mom, and it's hard to process having our first Christmas without her. I am also very thankful for everything that I do have this Christmas, and it is good to be able to have a quiet, restful Christmas this year. Working on the prayer walk has been very meaningful for me, and I pray that it can be a blessing to you too.

I hope that you all have a very special Christmas!

Handmade Skirt

I'm so excited to be finished my most recent sewing project! It is a plaid skirt, stitched entirely by hand, and roughly based on a drafting pattern from 1895.

This past summer I discovered the joys of sewing by hand. There is something about it that I find very peaceful. It is slow going, (the skirt took me almost two months to complete!) but it is something I can do while life carries on around me. I can bring it outside and sew while the boys ride their bikes or dig in the gravel pile. I can sew while curled up on the couch listening to my husband reading Discworld. I can even sew while I listen to the sermon on Sunday, because church is online for us these days. And I know that it will take a long time. There is something about using the sewing machine that makes me feel like I should be able to whip something up in a couple days. When I am hand sewing I know that it will take weeks, and I am okay with that.

Having received a small stash of fabric in the summer, I knew I needed to make a few things, and I loved the idea of using this lovely plaid fabric to make a skirt. I've had an increasing interest in historically-inspired fashion, so when I found a historical skirt drafting pattern from 1895, I knew I wanted to try it! (Check it out here: An 1895 Skirt.) I didn't have enough fabric to make it exactly as instructed, but it was fun to try to decipher the directions and make it work with what I had. My end result is not nearly as long or full as it should be historically, but I am impressed with how comfortable it is and how well it fits! I found joy in making it as well as I could, taking the extra time to make small, even stitches, and finishing the seams in a historical fashion. It looks just as nice on the inside as the outside!

It was my first time trying to work with a historical pattern, so there are a few things I would do differently next time, but overall I am very pleased with how it turned out. I think it's going to be a favourite of mine!

Tender Heart

Tender heart,

you bleed all over

this broken, hardened world,

holding the shards

of yet another hope,

shattered beyond repair. 

Aching heart,

drawing so tightly 

within your paper-thin walls—

an illusion of shelter

between a cruel world

and your lifeblood.

Courage, dear heart,

your spirit bears

within this gift of pain

a gentleness so strong

to die a thousand deaths

and still know how to cry.

A New Song

 

The journey of grief is a cyclical one. I keep finding new thoughts and perspectives on my mom's death that bring the grief back to the forefront again. A few weeks ago it was the realization that I didn't really get to have a birthday. So I wrote a little birthday song for myself.

Mommy Moments: Nana Knows

*discussing with the children for the fifteenth time that dogs can’t have chocolate because it makes them sick*

5-year-old: The only dogs that can have chocolate are the dogs in heaven!

Me: ... yeah, maybe.

5-year-old: (shrugs) nobody knows.

3-year-old: Nana knows!

Mommy Moments: Cuddles?

Just trying to sneak in a little lie down while the kids were playing, and my thoughtful 3-year-old brought me a rubber chicken head to cuddle.

Thanks?

Beautiful (for D.S. and all the others)

My friend,

You’re beautiful. 

Your smile,

The way that laughter bursts out of you,

The light in your eyes

When you talk about the things you love. 

You’re beautiful. 

I am so sorry

For a world that judges you

At a glance,

A world that rejects you

For a different image,

A world that is blind

And selfish

And deeply broken. 

I am so sorry. 

I think you’re beautiful. 

The shade of your skin,

The colour of your eyes,

Your hair, and size, and shape,

It’s perfect. 

Who you are—

Inside and outside

You are worth so much more

Than they have told you. 

My voice may not mean much,

But I know

The Master Artist thinks so too. 

Have you seen it?

Can you dare to believe just how precious you are?

You are precious,

Just the way you are. 

Every part of you

Wonderfully made. 

A masterpiece.

Beautiful. 

Dying Church

Last year I created a painting that I called "Dying Church". Three months in the making, it is the most time-consuming piece of visual art that I have made. I meant to share it here with all of you a long time ago, but life gets busy, and to be honest I was a bit nervous about sharing it. "Dying Church" is meant to be thought-provoking and challenging - not a feel-good piece of art. And that's a bit intimidating! But I also think it is important to raise difficult questions, because that is a part of how we learn and grow. So with that preamble out of the way, I'd love to tell you more about my painting!

"Dying Church" was created as a multi-staged painting, with each stage accompanied by a short poem. To see all the stages and read the accompanying poetry, you can visit my website: leanewinger.com.

I created this painting as I wrestled with the question - Can a church die? How does that happen? And why would God let that happen?

This is the most evident in the walls of the church in the painting. They are literally crumbling and falling down, but no one seems to be noticing or doing anything about it.

The stained-glass windows tell us a little bit about this church. The righthand window symbolizes money, and the window beside it represents safety and security. While neither of these things are inherently bad, they become very problematic when they are idols being worshipped in the church. The centre window has itself been broken. Once, it represented social justice, but a social justice that obscured Christ, and neglected the centrality of what he did on the cross. It is a stark reminder that even good and important things can become idols that turn our hearts away from the One True God.

The accompanying poem ends in a very dark place:

dust rises
choking out the light
lost and empty, staring
into nothing

It reflects that hopelessness that I feel when I see just how broken and apathetic the church can be. But even in this ending, there is a glimmer of hope; a hope that can be seen if we return to the beginning of the poem:

out of nothing
everything
brilliant light
a voice

Because, you see, God can work with nothing. He's done it before. Even if we fail, and all our efforts and good intentions crumble away, that is not the end for God. He can do far more with our nothingness than we could ever imagine. Christ came so that we may have life, and sometimes before we can truly accept that we need to realize how dead we are, how helpless we are without him.

The theme of death and rebirth is found in the second stage of the painting - Nebula. Both the graveyard of dying stars, and the nursery of new stars, Nebulae are hauntingly beautiful, and a reminder that we do not need to fear death, because we know the maker of new beginnings.

Christ's sacrifice reaches even us. No matter how much we have failed, or how much we or our churches are falling apart. That is why we still have hope, because our hope is not in ourselves. Our hope is in our Creator God, who can make something out of our nothingness. Our hope is in Christ our Saviour, who died to give us life.

As a complete work, "Dying Church" is a sobering call for the people of God to wake up, to put away our idols, and to reach out to the hurting and disillusioned world that we have left outside our crumbling walls. It is a call to not turn our backs on the saving work of Christ, but to find our identity and hope in the one who gave himself for us and who can make us new.

Angel

Angel with the broken wing,
Was the radiance of heaven itself
Merely the flickering of a fluorescent bulb,
A tarnished halo dimly reflected
In some long forgotten dream?

I loved a mirage.

A room of mirrors - is this the truth
Or another twisted image
Unknowable
Somehow beyond my reach
And fading further away.

Lost in the dark
With faded photographs
And crumbling memories

I want my angel back.

Too Much!

There is so much that I want to do! And I don’t mean bucket list kinds of things that I want to do someday, but normal sorts of things that I want to do or work on today.

I want to work on my writing. I want to keep writing the story I have in progress, because I care about the characters so much, and I want to know what happens next! I want to write poetry and journal and process life and all that I am learning. And there are so many other writing projects that I have ideas for—from scripts to stories and more—that I haven’t started yet because I can only have so many projects going at a time! And don’t forget making more content for this blog, my website, and my Patreon, for all of you lovely folks who support my work!

There is also so much I want to learn. With my husband and one of my sisters-in-law I have been attempting to learn American Sign Language, which has been a goal of mine for a long time. I have also been attempting to re-learn the Biblical Hebrew that I learned in college and had all but forgotten. I’d love to be proficient enough to be able to read the text of the Old Testament for myself!

I’ve always loved arts and crafts, and there are several projects cooking in the back of my mind that I’d love to get to. There are some drawing projects (Lord of the Rings/Paw Patrol crossover, anyone?), painting projects (I’d love to make a painting to express my feelings about cancer and death), and even an idea for a comic strip series! I’m trying not to collect any crocheting projects at the moment (though there is that one pattern I’d love to try...), but to my dismay I keep collecting sewing projects, especially to make historically inspired clothing. And besides, I have a whole bag of lovely fabric from my grandma-in-law that is just begging to be made into things!

But all of that doesn’t involve me even leaving the house! Even though I’m not in a situation at the moment that lends itself to hiking, I still love getting outside, and I am trying to go on more walks to enjoy nature and get my body my moving. I have access to a river and a canoe here, and canoeing is something I’d really love to get better at—not to mention that my hubby is a trained paddle instructor, so I really should be taking advantage of that! And one of my sisters-in-law has said I can shoot with her bow any time I want, and I’d love to get better at that too, because who doesn’t want to feel like a badass *insert legendary archer of your choice*? And then there’s HORSES! Just down the street! And I’m allowed to ride them! But I’ve been here three months already and I haven’t even gone yet! How is this possible?

And then, you know, just in general wanting to be more fit and healthy. I’ve managed to start up a fitness routine, which has felt really good. I actually have some semblance of a core for the first time since having kids! But my workouts and stretches aren’t really touching my cardio and endurance, which I’m sure are plummeting, now that I’m not walking or biking whenever I want to go somewhere. Sigh.

And of course I don’t want to neglect my spiritual walk. I started this year with the idea to read through the Bible in a year and the Psalms and Proverbs every month. It may have been a bit ambitious, but I am determined to see it through! And I have really been enjoying spending so much time in God’s Word every day. Then there are other spiritual disciplines too, and I have particularly been wanting to grow in prayer.

And these are just personal goals and projects. There are friendships to maintain, family to enjoy and care for, and a whole world outside of my bubble to care about and try to make a difference in. And don’t forget that daily life still needs to happen! Floors to sweep, meals to make, messes to clean—the list often seems endless!

So what is a woman like I to do, who is constrained to a mere 24 hours in a day? (Especially when sleep is definitely a thing!) How do I choose how to spend these precious moments that God has given me? There is so much in this world that God has given us to enjoy, and I am sure that there is yet more that has slipped my mind as I’ve gone on this excessively long ramble. (Like music! How on earth did I forget about music?!)

But I am thankful. Thankful for this beautiful and exciting world that God has made, and thankful for every day I have to enjoy.

Be Still, Little One

Be still, little one.

Let the busyness wash past you

Like the breeze that caresses your skin.

The world may be rushing onward;

Little one, be still.

Look down - did you notice

The weed poking up through the ground,

Its delicate leaves unfurled

Toward the early morning light.

Did you forget

To hold a dewdrop on your finger

And see the world a little better

In its crystalline reflection,

To feel each breath rush inside you

And disperse with a prayer.

Look up - did you notice

How each leaf dances,

The sunlight refracting

Through a thousand glittering emeralds.

Did you forget

To hear the humming bees

And know yourself a little better,

To close your eyes and listen

To the heartbeat all around you

And the silence.

Be still, little one.

Let the busyness wash past you

Like the gentle water flowing.

The world may be rushing onward;

Little one, be still.

Website!

I am so excited to share with you my new website for all things related to my writing, especially fiction, poetry, and playwriting. I've been looking forward to having a website for a long time, and it's so exciting that it is finally finished! Check it out!

leanewinger.com

Don't worry, that doesn't mean that this blog is finished! I consider this to be my "personal blog", so I will continue to share things with you here, like life updates, pictures, funny moments, poetry, and generally all the same kinds of things that I've been posting. My new website will be more directly focused on my writing.

Thanks so much for your continued support and encouragement!

On Grief

i.
and suddenly, gone.

ii.
disorientation, dissolving
into a vague impression
of exhaustion.

iii.
what is this world
where mothers die.

Sometimes the Silence

Sometimes the silence is deafening.

Oppressive weight crushing my chest

Of words that can’t be said

And tears that can’t be cried

The ache of all that should not be

The thieving tide, unpredictable,

Turning, seeping away

Beyond my reach. 

Sometimes the silence is deafening. 

Sometimes the silence is holy. 

Seeping into every corner of my being,

Sacred and undefinable,

Gently bidding me to linger still

Where presence is a gift,

And all that is required.

Sometimes the ache is right and good

And eternity bends close. 

Sometimes the silence is holy.