A Time to Write: A Lenten Meditation

How many of you remember your first diary? Mine had a rose-pink leather cover with an illustration of a little girl on the front and it had a teeny tiny lock with an equally teeny tiny key. And I loved it.  I wrote about my first love, my cat, what I ate that day. When I think back on that diary, I realize it was the first invitation I probably received as a child to intentionally write down what I was thinking, feeling, and experiencing, and I had the privilege and choice to share my thoughts with others… or lock them up, and not share them.

Years later, I remember my mother taking my sister and me to a poetry workshop at the local public library. I loved our very small library in our very small town, and we went every week for new books. The poetry workshop called “The Beauty of Words” was originally something in my mind that simply got me back to the library so I could get more books, but the woman who taught the class, Barbara Little Lombardi, was so engaging and encouraging and she made all the participants feel like the words we put together were special. My favorite poem I wrote was titled “Tiny Little Rainbirds” and it was about the goldfinches in my backyard, who seemed so much more active when it rained. I wrote poems about dreams, the future, my mom and dad, meadows, a stuffed bear, all types of nature, and death. Young as I was, during this poetry workshop I discovered the joy, the wonder, and the excitement in putting words together to tell a story, share an emotion, draw a picture, acknowledge the beauty in the world, and I learned in that workshop that the process of writing and the results were to be appreciated and valued. I ended up participating in this poetry workshop for four years, ages twelve through fifteen and looking back, I think teaching the art of writing poetry to teenagers was a brilliant way for us to be in touch with the myriad of emotions that come with that hormonally-infused time of life! 

Many years later, when I was in graduate school, my writing took a different path, and in addition to writing academic papers, for the first time in my life, I started journaling prayers to God. I would sit on the train for an hour each way to school and back, and a lot of that time was spent writing. I sometimes find when I pray silently in my head, I start off really well, but then I get distracted, and I am suddenly making note of the five items I need to get from the grocery store, ruminating about the piles of laundry that need folding, replaying in my head the end of a movie I saw the night before, and always entertaining thoughts about what food I am craving, and what I might be cooking sooner rather than later. So easily distracted. But I found when I wrote my letters to God, which of course always started with “Dear God,”, I was able to weave words together to tell God stories about what I was doing, thinking, and feeling; and to share my prayers of confession, adoration, thanksgiving, and supplication. My faith and my connection to God are both so much stronger when I write than when I just pray quietly in my head.  Many years ago, when we were cleaning out my grandmother’s apartment after she had passed away, we came across over twenty-six fat little spiral bound notebooks, which were her letters to God….every single entry started with “Dear God, thank you for another day”. I laughed thinking writing “Dear God” letters may be genetic and about how much mail God had been receiving from my family!

When I traveled to Kenya back in 1996 on a mission trip with my church, I actively journaled to God then too. I had to tell God everything I was seeing and experiencing in this very impoverished place which was home to people of such deep faith. My writing at that time was an attempt to reconcile in my heart and mind everything I was seeing, and journaling strengthened my relationship with God at a time when I was simultaneously feeling conflicted and inspired. It was in this journal that I also wrote by hand my first sermon that I had the pleasure and privilege to preach to two congregations in Africa (side note: my jokes didn’t translate well!).  I had also met my husband Paul just a month or so before I left on this three-week mission trip, and writing daily was also a way to make sure I didn’t forget a single detail so I could share it all with him upon my return. Writing can indeed serve many purposes!

I found solace in writing when my mom was sick, and despite being tired and feeling like there were not enough hours in the day, there was freedom and consolation in putting words on paper about feelings I did not yet feel comfortable verbalizing.  I wrestled with my faith quite a bit during that time, and writing ultimately helped me stay close to God when I felt so angry, confused, and sad. Over the past five or more years, I have worked to take my journaling and write a memoir titled “Scratch My Itch”, which is now going to be published.  

Sometimes when I get all excited and caught up in the details of a story, Paul will gently and kindly remind me to “land the plane”, so let me do that now: There is something about getting all the words that are swirling in my head out onto paper so I make more room in my head! And there is something about the process of writing that causes me, actually, to slow down. Originally it was the feeling of pen or pencil on paper, I could only write cursive as quickly as my hand could move …. Now the feeling of typing, sometimes feeling more frenetic than relaxing as I try to type quickly as the words are putting themselves together, but there is something about that sound the keys make as the words spell themselves out across my screen that is relaxing.

A couple of years ago during Lent, encouraged by a sermon our church’s Pastor Emily preached in which she quoted poet Mary Oliver, I started a daily practice of writing about something I noticed in our world every day: My forty days of wonder. I challenged myself to pay attention, be astonished, and tell about it. I wrote for thirty of the forty days….close but not perfect.  I found it was a great opportunity to pause, slow down, focus on something remarkable, and enjoy putting words together. I wrote about the National Anthem, eyesight, robins finding worms, architecture, the sense of smell, and singing to name a few. This practice absolutely drew me closer to God as I spent time appreciating all He had created. It does not escape me that we only have ten more days left in Lent, so I could theoretically finish my forty days of wonder writing, however, the good news is writing is a practice that has no expiration date. We can start, we can stop, we can start again. We can try different types of writing- poetry, essays, journaling, one sentence a day. Maybe this week, in our effort to slow down during these last ten days of Lent and grow closer to God, inspired by the faith-filled generations of writers who came before us, we all take pen to paper, or type something on our keyboards. Write a poem or a “Dear God” letter, putting just a few sentences together about our thoughts or feelings about what we are seeing in our world, and bask in the beauty of words. Be vulnerable and share your writing with someone, or click the little pink diary closed, lock it up with a key and put it away, until you want to go back and read what you wrote at a later date.  May we all slow down and take time to celebrate the beauty of words, and in the process, grow closer to God.  Amen.