Tag Archives: CREATIVE WRITING

PRACTICE WRITING 3-16-2025

Posted on by under PRACTICE WRITING

In these practice writing sessions, I have been trying to awaken the writing craft within my soul. The muse went into a state of hibernation when I took on the role of lead pastor of Cornerstone Church.

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I used to write a lot. I generally turned out about four blogs a day. Some of that was written expression but I was also experimenting with photography and pencil artwork. I also finished a book and was toying with the idea of self publishing or maybe even finding an agent.

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I knew when I took the role as a lead pastor, that my dedication to this art form was going to change. It was one of the things I considered when I answered the call. In the end the call won out. I was resigned, if need be, to say “good bye” completely to writing and my artistic side.

For all that, I did try to create a modified writing lifestyle. I managed to keep Lillie-Put alive, by posting a daily devotional blog. Over time though, the ability to write began to fade. I found my use of words becoming clunky and even ideas for blogs which used to seem a dime a dozen became harder to drum up in my mind. Other creative gifts also began to atrophy. I noticed my vocal range was shrinking and when I attacked the keyboard to wring a song from it, my fingers felt like sausages only mildly obedient to my brain.

I have not minded the loss much, though. The work I have entered into is some of the most rewarding work of my life. I know that this work is what God wants me to be doing. Still, I have to admit there have been moments that I have missed my creative side: I have missed music; I have missed poetry; I have missed story telling; I have missed art.

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Then about a year ago, I noticed a change beginning in me. It seemed I was building capacity…room for more in my life. It seemed that I was being directed to fill that new space in my life with creativity. It has taken time to implement a rhythm in this new margin of life, but I feel like finally I am getting there.

It strikes me that this was not anything I consciously intentioned. It seems more a gift God is giving me for the season that lies ahead. However this margin has been built, wherever this capacity has come from, I accept it with open arms and I am so thankful for it!

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PRACTICE WRITING 3-5-25

Posted on by under PRACTICE WRITING, The Stories

My father died so young (at age 49), I hardly got to know the man.

When I was young, he worked all the time. When I was young I knew only his authority. It made me feel secure and it scared me. I suppose that is because I understood his authority as a weapon.

My father struggled with an explosive personality, something I am told he inherited from his grandmother. On more than one occasion I saw him use his temper to reinforce his will as the boss or the head of the family. Don’t get me wrong I was never abused. He never hit my mother or me or my sister. I was just always aware of an anger in him boiling somewhere just below the surface. I wanted to stay away from it.

I suppose that is why I fell down the tunnel of imagination. I learned to hide in stories. Some I read, some I made up, but most of my young life I was more inside my head than I was in the outside world. I kept those psychic walls up throughout my childhood. I didn’t have my father’s forceful personality, but I learned how to do weird as well as he did angry and that became my defense, and a wall of separation between me and….well almost everyone.

My father and I were just coming to an easy peace, when he suddenly passed away. I think I was just beginning to learn about the sources of his anger and he was just beginning to understand the gates that would get him through my weirdness when we ran out of time.

Still and all, I am glad that I was a part of his life when he went. I realize while I did not have as much time as I would have liked, we did have time. I had come home. I had begun to learn how to stop isolating from him and we were working together when his time came. We had begun to share our adult selves. I think given more time we would probably have become good friends.

Practice Writing 2-20-2025

Posted on by under PRACTICE WRITING, The Stories

We buried my father on the hill at Silver Lake Cemetery.

My mother turned to me as the committal concluded and said, “It’s my birthday.”

In all the chaos of those days, we had forgotten. Maybe she had forgotten too. I like to think so. It helps.

This was grief’s first contact with me.

Here is what I learned. Grief reveals chaos. Grief has no standard form or process. It has no absolute expression. It is inevitable. It is universal. It is inescapable, and it does not come with a verifiable end date.

For me, grief’s expression was not sorrow. I cried once during that whole time. That was because I realized my children would never get to know my father, and it was because I knew I would not… could not represent him in his full personhood to them. I had only just started knowing him as a multi-faceted being myself. My father’s death made me realize I had lost an opportunity, one that would never come again.

And so it was that the doorway to chaos first led me into a confrontation with my guilt.

SUNDAY CREATIVE WRITING 10-27-2024

Posted on by under stray poetry- challenge poetry

I am continuing to follow my discipline of creative writing on Sundays and Wednesdays. Today I am writing from a prompt offered by MOONWASHED MUSINGS. Check out the other submissions by clicking the link.

HERE IS THE PROMPT I AM WRITING FROM. I AM CHOOSING TO USE AN OVI FORM TO ANSWER THE PROMPT.

uncertainty

troublesome

much-needed light

FLICKERING CANDLES BURN

by JE Lillie

The world grows dark with shadow’s might.

Forces arise dispelling light.

Hope quelling blackness comes to fight.

Men draw back in fearful corners.

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Yet, what the darkness does not know,

Hope is light the heart’s inner glow.

Though crushed to coal it yet will grow.

Flickering candles can still burn.