Praise writers issue3, june 2014

HALCYON MAGAZINE PRESENTS

Issue 3, June 2014

Praise Writers June 2014

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Praise Writers ISSN: 2291-5307 Frequency: Biannualy Founding Editor | Designer: Monique Berry

Special Notices

Contact Info http://praisewriters.blogspot.ca monique.editor@gmail.com

Praise Writers has one time rights.

No photocopies allowed.

In this Issue Devotional 5 Special Rainbow Friends

By Rosemary Hagedorn

Non-Fiction 9 The Butterfly Whisperer

By Sara Etgen-Baker The narrator learns about herself, her father, and faith while watching butterflies.

Poetry 6 Running Waters 6 7

By Anne Anderson I Went Up For Prayer Today

By Anne Anderson How Do I Speak to the Lord?

By Kathleen Foye

10 First Star

By June Rose Dowis 11 Choices

By Gary Lightfoot 11 The Space Between

By Gary Lightfoot 12 The Gift

By Rebecca Rose Taylor

Front cover : Luigi Giordano | DollarPhotoClub Sue Colvil | Photoxpress.com

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From the Founding Editor Welcome to the third issue of Praise Writers.

This is a small but emotionally stirring edition for me, and one for which I am grateful. Life is balanced with moments of hardship and joy. Anne Anderson’s “Running Waters,” “I Went Up For Prayer,” and Gary Lightfoot’s poems “Choices,” and “The Space Between” are reminders of how raw life can be. They stirred my emotions and left me thinking that life can be rough at times.

On the other hand, life has moments of joy and lessons learned. I was comforted after reading Kathleen Foye’s poem “How Do I Speak to the Lord.” It encouraged me to be more natural in my prayer life.

Poems by June Rose Dowis and Rebecca Rose Taylor made me smile and look heavenward. Sara EtgenBaker’s article about her father and Rosemary Hagedorn’s devotional passed on some lessons learned.

Life has seasons of challenges and joy. I hope the writers help you see your way clear to finding Him in every step of your walk. Have a blessed time reading Praise Writers.

Founding Editor monique.editor@gmail.com

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Special Rainbow Friends

By Rosemary Hagedorn Proverbs 17:17-A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity. (NASB)

H

ave you ever seen a double rainbow? I have. I have seen many rainbows in my lifetime, but only two double rainbows on two separate occasions.

There are seven separate colors in a rainbow. Although it can be difficult to always see all seven colors (depending on the conditions outdoors when the rainbow appears), every rainbow contains the following colors: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet.

As I reflected on the colors of the rainbow, I thought about my friends and how each one adds a different hue to my life. One friend is a good listener, whereas another one is very helpful and is there when you need her.

Acquaintances are many, but friends are very few.

Often, we can count our friends on one hand. Cherish your friends. True friends will be there for you when you are going through a rough time, and that was the case last week.

I was experiencing a distressing time a couple of weeks ago and just needed to talk to one of my friends. It is such a relief when we can share with a friend who just listens and listens and listens some more. No comments, just a listening ear. I felt like a huge burden being lifted off my shoulders.

It was a couple of days afterwards when the local florist called and asked if I would be home, as they had a bouquet of flowers for me. I said "yes" and waited, trying to figure out who would send me flowers. The bouquet finally arrived. When I opened the card, it said: "A Flowery Expression to Brighten your Day. With Love and Friendship, Helena."

My friend, indeed brightened my day. Not only did she listen to my misery, she also sent a gift to cheer me up!

You may say, "What about me? I don't have any friends or family that I can talk to. I can't communicate my

As I reflected on the colors of the rainbow, I thought about my friends and how each one adds a different hue to my life.

problems with anyone." As Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, "The only way to have a friend is to be one."

My friend, all you have to do is reach out and ask for help. There are so many wonderful agencies, organizations and volunteers that are willing to lend a helping hand. Friends come in different shapes and colors, just like in a rainbow, each one bringing and sharing their varied gifts.

Galatians 6:2-Bear one another's burdens, and thereby fulfill the law of Christ. (NASB) Prayer: Dear Lord, thank You for sending us cherished friends, even through various agencies or volunteers, when we need someone to talk with or just to listen. May we, also, share our time and gifts with others who are in need. Amen.

ROSEMARY HAGEDORN, 65, immigrated to Canada in 1957 with her parents and

brother; she was ten years old. It was in her later years that she began writing. She has published over 100 short devotionals and contributes short stories for the local newspaper.

She continues to write and create picture story books for her four grandchildren. Favorite scripture: John 13:34, 35.

Opposite: YuriyVZ | DollarPhotoClub

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Running Waters

By Anne Anderson Whispering rivers trickle down my nose shouting secrets making me want to overdose.

Screams pierce the darkness behind my eye where evil skulks the bridge, between you and I. Heaving clouds consume me and take me in one inner voice shouts, 'It wasn't you, it was him.'

Where can I look to replace my toxic family for the world to know, I was born pure Yes me, You know meTo break the chain, to live - not - just to die to matter, to love, to feel sorrow when rivers run dry.

I know I'm a second-best hunter scourging the land looking for his replacement to fill my hand, I can't stop myself, I know I am doing wrong, but it feels safe and familiar to repeat this song.

Image credit: Chepko Danil DollarPhotoClub

I Went Up For Prayer Today

By Anne Anderson

I went up for prayer today, they'd put a call out for the weak.

I waited for the vicars wife, I knew my secret - she'd keep Shunned she told me to go away, to heal and pray myself 15 years of Christianity, drifted into itself.

Money, cakes and sacrifice was the language that they spoke Probing repressed memories provoke, provoke, provokeAs tears fell and worshippers sang, I sunk unto my knee Learning that there was only one God I needed no one, but him and me.

I need to soothe the hurricane in my heart, Replace my father God, show me where to start?

I'll sing, I'll dance, sacrifice and care, God grant me peace, my heart I lay bare.

I want to skate the waters, to coast like a butterfly, it is your wish for me I know Lord to live, not, just to die.

ANNE ANDERSON is a mature student studying at Winchester University England. She lives in Poole and has been a Christian and single parent of two boys for the past 15 years.

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How Do I Speak to the Lord?

By Kathleen Foye prompted by Isaiah 29:13

As a small child I was taught to pray.

My parents told me the words to say that would be pleasing to God’s ear.

These words, I was told were what He would hear.

As I grew up something occurred to me I can ramble those prayers off perfectly, but if I say them slowly and with feeling I lose my place and the words lose their meaning.

So often we fall into habits and rote everything becomes routine and boring.

We forget what we are doing – don’t even emote And we expect God to still be listening.

Give your own true troubles to the Lord your own scripted page hasn’t been written.

Open your heart and use your own word And speak freely to the Lord more often.

KATHLEEN FOYE has been a Christian all her life. She was raised Catholic with a sprinkling of Quaker. Both of her grandmothers took her to church with them when she visited them, so she got to see things from different sides.

Much of Kathleen’s youth was spent in church activities like serving at the Sunday morning breakfasts, Catechism classes and choir. By the time she was a sophomore in high school she was also teaching little kids their first prayers.

In spite of the formal beginnings, Kathleen sometimes prefers talking to God in the garden or on long walks. Some of my best answers came while out for a leisurely walk.

Image credit : Mat Hayward | Photoxpress.com

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Image credits: JSB

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The Butterfly Whisperer

By Sara Etgen-Baker While watching butterflies with her father, the narrator learns about herself, her father, and the mysterious ways we learn about faith and grace.

I

entered Whispering Pines where I found the large French doors of the day room flung wide open; the air—light and fresh—gently blew the long, crisp, white curtains to and fro. I walked through the doors—the morning sunshine shimmering through the pine trees—and saw Pop sitting on the verandah surrounded by a rabble of butterflies.

He was slumped over in his wheelchair, his limp left arm tied to the chair’s railing. He looked up and waved with his good hand. “Sara!” he called with delight. I caught my breath and fought back the tears.

“Re…re…remember? He flashed me a smile.

“Bu…bu…butterflies!” Since his stroke, Pop couldn’t form full, flowing sentences—just words and even those came out slowly.

“Yes, I remember!” I squeezed his hands.

“When one of your monarchs emerged from its chrysalis, you showed me how to guide it to walk on my finger. That was my first memorable butterfly encounter!” I scooted a chair next to him; we held hands, and the hours imperceptibly passed as we watched the butterflies.

“When one of your monarchs emerged from its chrysalis, you showed me how to guide it to walk on my finger. That was my first memorable butterfly encounter!”

I was 35 when my father first introduced me to his butterflies. “Why are you raising butterflies?” I asked.

“I witness grace.”

“Grace?” Even then Pop was a man of few words. “I don’t understand.”

“After the chrysalis is formed, the butterfly faithfully waits in its dark cocoon—unable to move, to see, or to care for itself. But in that mysterious darkness, it’s not afraid. It bears the unbearable not knowing and trusts in something bigger that’s calling it to change. That’s grace.”

We continued watching butterflies on the verandah until the afternoon sun told me it was time to go. I stood up and kissed Pop on the cheek. “Gra… gra…grace,” he said. “Stroke is gra…gra…grace.

Don’t wo…wo…worry. I’m not a…a…afraid.”

I made my way to the front door but could hardly see through my tears. There I was 55 years old, crying over just a few words. After I got in my car, I just sat there processing what had just happened. Suddenly I felt awash in a diaphanous mist of comfort and healing, like a blanket wrapped around me on a cool night.

Pop’s parting words soothed my broken heart.

Although his stroke had wrapped him in a dark cocoon where he was unable to move, to speak, or care for himself, Pop wasn’t afraid. He was bearing the unbearable not knowing and trusting in something bigger that was calling him to change. Pop had faith in God; in return God had given Pop grace, and that grace had strengthened him.

SARA ETGEN-BAKER retired three years ago and with God’s guidance, she began fulfilling her life-long dream

of writing memoirs, short stories, and personal narratives. Her manuscripts have won several contests and have been published in anthologies including Wisdom Has A Voice, The Santa Claus Project, and The Heroic Path to Self-Forgiveness. Others have been published in Story Circle Network’s True Words Anthology, Looking Back Magazine, Guideposts Magazine, Halcyon Magazine, Page & Spine Magazine, The Storyteller Magazine and at womensmemoirs.com. Her manuscript “Intangible Ingredients,” received Honorable Mention in the 2013 Euple Riney Memorial Award. She’s read some of her stories before a live audience at the Starving Artist Café in Little Rock, Arkansas. You may visit Sara at her blog: http://saraetgenbaker.blogspot.com.

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Image credit: ADD | Pixabay.com

First Star

By June Rose Dowis When you gaze expectantly upon the night sky that singular star, I wish I may, I wish I might-you discover, was never really the only one once you truly search the heavens--deeply, adjust your eyes to the dark and the light, one by one, they make themselves known a million reminders that you are not alone God’s love and grace are much the same way Have the wish I wish tonight

One by one, they make themselves known A million reminders that you are not alone

Italics originally from the English Language Nursery Rhyme, Star Light, Star Bright

JUNE ROSE DOWIS reads, writes, and resides in Shreveport, Louisiana. A love of nature, a heart for the underdog, and a slice of everyday life find their way into her poetry. She works as a communications director for a Methodist Church. Her work has been published in anthologies, online and in print. Her essays have been published in Birds & Blooms, Appleseeds, Byline, and Shreveport Voices. Her poetry has been published in Ouachita Life, Acorn, Frogpond, Halycon, Modern Haiku, Praise Writers, PruneJuice, A Hundred Gourds and several anthologies. She was a winner of the Highway Haiku Contest in Shreveport with her haiku gracing a billboard and an honorable mention recipient of the Harold G. Anderson Award 2013. She also won a Literary Fellowship Award in Shreveport, Louisiana for her writing in 2013.

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Image credit: rasica | DollarPhotoClub

Choices

By Gary Lightfoot Black and white, right and wrong We have to decide which is strong He said the truth is a light That shines in the darkness To show us what’s right.

The knowledge of right and wrong He wrote on our hearts To help us along.

We decide what to do, the choice is ours He made us that way we have the power.

A choice was made long ago in the past His voice still rings, He’s still at His task.

We still make choices, sometimes they are wrong But that message of love is still there and strong.

“Father forgive them...they know not what they do.”

The Space Between

By Gary Lightfoot What do we do in the space between Where we are and what we believe?

The space between God and how we live, The space between me and my neighbor, The space between what people see and what we harbor.

Do we seek Christ in the blanks of our lives?

For if we seek Him we will surely find, That He is waiting, waiting for us to find, Peace and a love divine.

GARY LIGHTFOOT is presently among the newly retired after 42 years in the wholesale grocery business. He enjoys reading, singing in the church choir, Bible studies, Bible teaching and writing. Writing has eased the stress and sometimes chaos in his life. God reached out and put words in Gary’s pen—words that have been coming for years—but he has only begun to share with others recently. Sometimes the words are strictly poetry, and at other times hymn lyrics. Gary attributes these gifts to God, and believes there must be a need for others to hear them. Perhaps they will ease someone else’s stress and chaos.

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The Gift

By Rebecca Rose Taylor God sends special people to make the sun shine brighter.

Steadfast love blossoms like a floral bouquet and stays fragrant year round.

Gifts hide in life’s tests— millions of tiny blessings wait to be discovered.

Gods sends special people to brighten our lives and extend bouquets of love in numerous ways.

Look upward and praise God.

REBECCA R. TAYLOR (rebecca_taylor2@hotmail.com/www.paradiseonpaper.wordpress.com), 26, resides in a small town in Quebec. Credits include Halcyon Magazine, Barebacklit, and Dark Fountain Magazine. Favorite scripture: 1 John 4:7-11.

Image credit: jojjik | DollarPhotoClub

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Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Matthew 11:28 Image credit: Cheryl Casey | DollarPhotoClub

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Issue 3, June 2014

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