Tag Archives: words

Write 31 Days Withdrawal

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Withdrawal=”the act of taking back or away something that has been granted or possessed” or “the discontinuance of administration or use of a drug.”

Have you ever experienced withdrawal from something? Perhaps it was giving up soda or sweets or something. Maybe you know someone or have watched someone withdraw from drugs. The only experience I have of watching someone withdraw and detox from an abused substance is on MTV with Dr. Drew. Yet from what I have seen, withdrawal is not an easy thing. In fact, it can get pretty ugly!

I don’t know about you, my Write 31 Days friends, but this past week, I have found myself wanting to read your blogs and write more posts myself. But what I have found is that it is pretty quiet over in our neck of the woods. It seems like many of our wells have run dry. I think I am going through Write 31 days withdrawal! Anyone else with me?

Throughout the month of October, every day we must post. If the words are there, great. But if the words are not there, we must keep on trucking through. In addition, many of us interacted on the Survivors Facebook page and read five other posts which we promised to comment on, share, etc.

Yet now here we are, ten days into November and I keep finding myself wanting to go back to October. I want to gather with my friends and read their stories. I want to know that I am not on this writing journey alone. I want to be reminded again and again that my words are enough! The truth is that I know these things are true, but it seems harder to find them and believe them this month. It is as if my ability to write has been snuffed out in an instance.

In addition, my words are not the only thing I am missing. I am missing the community and the people I have met. I came across this quote this morning on Google: “The most addictive drug is a person. The detox takes the longest. And sometimes the withdrawals never stop.” Hmmm!

I am sure that in time the words will slowly begin to flow more freely again! I am sure that I will find other outlets and projects to share my words. I am sure that soon I will feel like I am no longer going through Write 31 Days withdrawal. And I know that even though, we are resting from our words, we all will return to share them again.

Like the breath in our lungs that gives us life, words also give us writers life as well! Without our words, we cannot go through this life NOT sharing our words. “Write until it becomes as natural as breathing. Write until not writing makes you anxious”

I am linking up with these lovely faith-filled women today:


 
 
and at Literacy Musing Monday

Being Drug Out of My Writing Chair

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Joining in with the online discussion on the book “On Being A Writer” by Ann Kroeker and Charity Singleton Craig. Today we are working through Chapter 5: Write. 


“A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word to paper.”–E.B. White.

But what do you do when the writing can be the hardest part. Yes, I realize that if I am going to call myself a writer, I must sit down and actually write….but some days that can be so much easier said than done. As the Director of Home and Family Ministry at a church, the words I write might be a sermon, newsletter article, Confirmation lesson etc, so when it’s time to write on the blog that can be hard to do.

As you already know, I still have a hard time calling myself a writer, but I am getting there. My mom has told me stories about how when I was little, I didn’t ask for a toy, but rather pen and paper. I was content to pour my words out in stories and characters even at a young age. Little did I realize what an impact words would have on my life.

Words, in many ways, became my lifeline. In English class, I loved when we had a writing assignment. When I went off to work at SuperAwesomeBibleCamp and told our story of journeying with mental illness for the first time, words became my prayers lifted up to God like hands raised to receive. At seminary, I struggled some. But it was a seminary professor who realized my love of words and poetry that helped me finally pass his class as an independent study. We would tape our conversations, I would go back and listen to them, and then I would come armed with my questions during the next class time.

Words continued to be my oxygen as I used them to share my family’s journey with a mental illness. But it really wasn’t until I joined the Write 31 Days challenge last October, that I realized how powerful my words were for me and for others. It is the one time that I truly sat down and wrote every single day. It is the one time that I felt like I found my sweet spot. It is the one time that I realized how there is so much power in hearing those words “me, too.” In my own words, I was able to breathe easier, because without being able to share my/our story, it felt like I was alone.

Even though I have found that my words do make a difference, there are still so many times when I get distracted; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc. (Can anyone else relate?) I scroll through FB looking for that quote that I saw earlier and want to write about. Before I know it 30 minutes have gone by, I still haven’t found that quote and I still haven’t written ANYTHING. It is so easy to let the world around us distract us too.

Sometimes I think it is so easy to get distracted because I am striving for perfection (Anyone else shake their head at Charity’s words: “The second reason we resist sitting down to work is we want our writing to be perfect!”) I will find anything in my line of sight to help me procrastinate because so often I get caught up in the comparison game. That blog is prettier than mine; she writes so much more eloquently than I do etc. But then I read these words from Charity and I am convicted: “We have something to say that can come only from us.” Only I can tell my story of being a daughter of someone who daily struggles with a mental illness. Only I can tell my story of being a single 36 (SOON to be 37) year old who yearns so very deeply to be a wife and momma. Only I can tell the story of who God has called ME to be.

Trusting in that promise and knowing that my words are valid, perhaps someone just needs to drag me out of my writing chair to show me the surprising places where my words have and will show up!

Clover Honey

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Children being bullied at school. Politicians spewing hateful words at each other. Music and lyrics sometimes full of unkind words. Using our words not for good, but rather for evil. And as I hear these stories and these words being hurled forth, my heart aches as I think about the impact and power of our words.

As a child, I was a kid who was teased relentlessly. Tears often would stream down my face as I heard those vicious words hurled at me…”Cry baby” “Orange Juice Spiller” and the list goes on. But the truth is, that as I have steeped myself in the word with the Word, I have realized that I…and we…can turn this around.
In Proverbs 16; verse 24 (The Message translation), we hear “Gracious speech is like clover honey—good taste to the soul, quick energy for the body.” Oh how true those words are. (God has a funny sense of humor too. Today I went to open my Bible app to look up this text and guess what was the verse of the day. You guessed it: Proverbs 16:24) Just this week, I have read replies to two of my comments on friend’s blogs. Their simple words back to me—“I simply adore you friend” and “You make me blush”– have covered me in love and have felt like sweet honey replenishing my soul. I don’t know about you but I want more of those kind words!! 
I know that we all don’t experience those kind words. Sometimes we experience hateful hurtful words that bitterly hang in our hearts and in our ears. I think of the story I shared in my post the other day when I shared of the individual who said some pretty hateful things to me at my writing group at the local library several years ago. Those words were a bruising to my heart and to my ego. Those are not the kind of words that God calls us to share. God calls us to be kind to one another…to love our neighbors as we love ourselves. Because the kind words we share with each other are pure gift. 
“Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift.”–Ephesians 4:29 (The Message)
Yes, each word is pure gift, but I am guilty of not always using my words for good. I sometimes listen as others are unkind to their neighbor. I may not say anything unkind, but I also don’t always speak up either. I also sometimes have a hard time saying kind things when someone is unkind to me. I have been known to raise my voice. Yet God still calls us to be that kind voice even when that is not always the easiest thing to do. But, my friends, I want my words to give life. I want them to be as sweet as honey to your soul. I want them to lift up rather than tear down. I want them to embody the gift of the Word in our lives. And I want this space to be that too! 
I am reminded of the lyrics from Christian artist Hawk Nelson’s song “Words.” “Words can build us up. Words can break us down. Start a fire in our hearts and put it out. Let my words be life. Let my words be truth. I don’t wanna say a word unless it points the world back to you.”
 May we use our words for good and to point the world back to the WORD!
Linking up with these lovely ladies today: 

 
 

Those Four Little Words

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A black binder full of my poetry sits on the bottom shelf of my bookcase…

A bound copy of a poetry anthology sits on that shelf as well with one of my poems published in it….

(Both items hidden away so others will not see them!)

A blog post of mine has been shared by the ELCA on their site “Living Lutheran”…

And I have two blogs….one specifically for my writing and the other being my main blog.

Yet I still only can seem to muster the words, “Oh I like to write” OR “Writing and/or Blogging is a Hobby.” But I still do not and cannot seem to identify myself as a writer!

When I was little, my mom said I was a kid who was happy with pen and paper and not with toys. I was content to sit and pour words out onto a page for others to read. As I got older, I loved my creative writing classes and my English classes which led to me getting a Communications degree when I headed off to college. I have a degree in Communications with an emphasis in Journalism and an English minor.

One would think that those credentials in and of themselves would qualify me and help me to identify as a writer…but they don’t. I still struggle to find those words: “I am a writer!” So often I find that I get caught up in the comparison game. So and so’s blog is so much better and prettier than mine. So and so writes more eloquently than I do. But what I need to remember is that it isn’t about comparing my words to others because my words are simply that: “my own words”.

Several years ago, I joined a writing group at my local library. I was excited to meet new people outside of work and was hoping to share my words with others and hone my craft. One evening, I chose to share a poem I had written sharing my families struggle with mental illness. As I finished reading, one of the other participants lit into me: “Do your family members know what you are writing about? How dare you write about this subject?” I ran out of that room as quickly as possible, put on my coat, and ventured out in the bitter North Dakota cold straight to my car. I opened the door and sat down in the driver’s seat where the tears immediately began to flow. I picked up my cell phone and dialed the number for my colleague. I was crying so hard by the time he answered the phone that he had to tell me to breathe. This woman had literally taken the wind out of my sails and I now questioned even more if God was calling me to write; let alone be a writer.

Over the next several days, weeks, months, and years, I have had to learn from that experience. I have realized that so often my words have been words of healing for me…and for others and not words of pain. I have come to realize that for me often my words have been the bravest words I have shared because they have opened up my own vulnerability.  I have come to also realize that my words embody my story and continually remind me of who and whose I am. I have also come to realize that my words are a gift from God! And trusting in that gift, I am trying to find the courage to utter those four simple words “I am a writer!”

I’ll admit that more often than not I have a hard time receiving this gift, but the truth is that God has empowered so many of us to write. I hear others including my friends and family call me a writer, but I still have a hard time believing them. Their words are gift, yet so often I don’t hear them at all. My ears need to be open to hearing the voice of God proclaiming to me and to so many of us “You are indeed a writer. I gifted you to be able to share your story through words. Your words are not a waste!”

It is extremely scary and vulnerable to utter those four simple words. Yet as dear Holley Gerth states: “Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.” So even though it still scares me to let those four simple words come out my mouth, I am going to lean into them, keep writing and continue saying them until hopefully I believe them for myself.

I AM A WRITER!

I am linking up with my favorites today–Kate Motaung and her series On Being A Writer, Holly Barrett and Testimony Tuesday, Kelly and the RaRa Linkup, Holley and Coffee for Your Heart, and Jennifer and Tell His Story.


 



 

My Love Language with Words

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This is a little longer post than usual but I needed to get the words out. Thanks for stopping by friends!

Words are my love language…my love language to God. Ever since I was a little girl, I have always had a strong love of words. I spent many hours reading books or when I was really little being read to by my parents. But most of all, I was a kid who was content with pen and paper. My mom has told me that there were many times that I would sit at the kitchen table or on the floor of our living room and pour out my heart in words. All I needed was crayons/markers/pens/pencils and paper!

Recently my friend Dana started an adventure at her church using art in its many creative forms. She started an event called 4th Fridays. Dana shared her introduction talk on her blog. I just listened to it and my heart is now undone..undone as I remember why I started writing stories, poetry, etc in the first place. I don’t write words to be recognized for them (Don’t get me wrong, it is nice to be recognized for them but that is not the most important), but to remember where I come from; to remember that I am rooted in Christ and God’s love for me.

“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”–Ephesians 2:10 (New International Version) In some translations, the word handiwork is sometimes translated as workmanship. Handiwork/workmanship comes from the Greek word “Poema” which comes from our English word “poem.” In the words of my friend Dana, we are God’s walking poetry. Ummm…I don’t know about you but that makes me think about my life, my artwork in a whole new perspective.

How do my words share God’s love? How do my words connect me to God and connect others to God as well? How do my words show that God is with us through the sadness and the joy, the tears and the sorrow, and so much more? How do my words/ our words impact those around us?

There have been many times that I have lifted my words to God. I have lifted them through poetry when my mom was lying in an intensive care unit. I have lifted them to God when I didn’t understand why our family was struggling with the deep grief of a mental illness. I have lifted them to God as I have yearned for God to answer the desires of my heart. But lately, I have not truly taken the time to sit, listen, and let the words truly flow onto the paper or the page as I remember the vulnerability in sharing who I am through words that I have written to share.

Working at a church, I write sermons, lead worship and Bible studies, teach Confirmation class etc. And I am pretty comfortable doing that, but ask me to share a poem or my heart and immediately I am filled with fear; deep fear. There is something so incredibly scary about sharing truly who I am with the rest of the world and especially with those that I serve. Yet God wants us to share our stories with each other. There is pure gift in knowing each other’s stories and knowing that we are not on this journey alone. I cannot tell you the number of times that God has placed someone in my path because I needed that person to hear my story OR I needed to hear their story.

Too often in this world, words are used in a negative way. We use them to bully others. We use them to hurt peoples feelings. But God wants us to use our words for the greater good. God wants us to use our words to bring glory to him. I know that can be difficult especially in this world where we use words to hurt each other, but God always sees us and knows our heart. That is a promise that I still want to cling to daily. I think of a blog post I read earlier today where the writer shared this quote by Jen Hatmaker: “People may hate us because of Jesus, but let’s not make them hate Jesus because of us.”

So, my friends, I am grasping onto that promise that if only one person reads this post and this poem, that is a-ok with me because that one person may just be Jesus. And knowing that he is seeing me and my words, I am throwing out my fear and sharing my own words with you. This poem was written about two years ago as I was thinking about  my mom, her journey with a mental illness and how very difficult that can and has been for me especially.

My Momma By Tara L. Ulrich
Talking about boys and life, 
Picking out my wedding dress,
Sharing about my life and loves;
These are all things that I wish
I could do with my momma
Like my friends have with their mommas.

Yet she is still my momma.
My momma has always been my shining star.
She has always been one 
Of the most kindest caring people in my life.
Yet she cannot do the things that I wish for
To the degree that I hope and pray for.

Yet she is still my momma.
I want to talk to her about boys and love.
I wish that she could come with me
To pick out my wedding dress someday.
I yearn for the day when our conversations
Will be more than a few minutes. 

Yet she is still my momma.
Momma has taught me so much about life.
Momma loves my sister and I UNCONDITIONALLY!
Mmomma continually shows me that normal is relative.
Momma is and will always be my momma;
A momma who reminds me daily
Of what it means to be who God created me to be! 

I am linking up with Anita at Inspire Me Monday, Holly at Testimony Tuesday and Kelly at the RaRa Linkup.

  

Our Words DO MATTER!

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“Sticks and stones may break my bones….but words will never hurt me.” Oh how untrue that phrase is. Words do hurt!! In fact, words sometimes are so painful it is hard to come back from them.

As a young girl, I was the child that was teased…and probably in some senses of the word, bullied. I was called many different names “Cry baby” “OJ Spiller” and the list goes on and on. Even as the tears fell from my face, many of them still continued to call me some pretty mean names. It took me a long time to get past those ugly words that were hurled at me as a child. I will admit that a few of those individuals have come to me and apologized…but not everyone has!

Over time and after giving up those moments and hurting words to my God, I have found myself moving on. But I will admit that I am one of those individuals who tries very carefully to say what I want to say and to say it in a positive light. Yes, I admit that sometimes I get angry and have raised my voice…just ask my Confirmation class…but after a few minutes, I find myself reflecting and trying very hard to cast good light…good words.

In this social media age, I think what we say matters more than it ever has before! Social media has a way for us to think we can say anything we want. But the truth is that we CANNOT! We still have to be careful of what we say. There are thousands, no millions of followers on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram etc. Someone is likely to read our words and be hurt by them even if that was NOT our intention at all!

And today I was reminded of how easily and quickly someone can be hurt! A friend was hurt by someone else’s words and actions today on a group thread. My heart is breaking for her!! And I am angry with and for her! Our words do matter!!!

God wants us to lift each other up with tenderheartedness and kind words. God wants us to lift each other up rather than knock each other down. I pray that we can be more careful with our words and treat each other with kindness and respect. The world would be a much kinder and gentler place if we truly realized the power of our words and used them for good rather than evil.

“Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.”–Ephesians 4:32

“Let us love not with words or speech but with actions and in truth.”–1 John 3:18

“Sticks and Stones…..”

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A friend of mine just posted the other day about how words matter. So sooo soooo true! I love words! I love to create with words….poetry, stories, etc. The cool thing about words is how they have power…they can bring sadness, they can bring joy, they can bring hatred, etc etc. When I think of the power of words, I cant help but think of the kids saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” The truth is words CAN and DO hurt!!! I recently just finished reading Jodi Picoult’s book “Nineteen Minutes.” The book encompasses how words can affect us. I wont say more than that because I dont want to give away the end or the plot line of the book.

Words have a way of surprising us in unexpected ways. They do have power. I think of one of my first classes in seminary. I was in a small group and finally got up the courage to speak in class. One of my new classmates immediately shot me down and after that I wouldnt speak in class. I did finally get to a point where I felt comfortable but I will never forget the power of those words. (The ironic thing is that this person became one of my dearest friends and she did apologize). I am also reminded of the words of one of my seminary professors who reminded me that it was so much easier for me to walk out the door, shut the door and never look back. It took more courage for me to stick with it. Those words have had a profound impact on my life. They helped me realize that I could do anything I set my mind. Two situations….two different sets of words….two different ways words impacted my life.

What is it about words? Why do we feel the need to say mean things? Why don’t we realize why words are so important? How have words impacted you and your life?