Shilah Writes

  First of all, I need to mention a very minimal loss that has happened about three times to me in the history of all my writing efforts. And that is the loss of something I had written. I thought I had even written it well. It was one of the pieces I almost felt good about(a writer is her worst critic).  Anyway. somehow I click on something to make this well written piece go into the abyss of the computer and could not-no way find it or retrieve it. Which makes me doubt it was any good or that I actually had something worth sharing or maybe even it wasn't the will of my Father that others heard the message I thought I had to share. Or maybe it was just the timing of things...maybe after a day of mulling it over and and asking the Almighty for clarity on it I have a better perspective. I'm pretty sure though that we have all walked the walk of loss at some point. And everyone feels acutely the pain of losing someone or something, a dream or goal.  I follow a twenty someth...

  Sailing has often given me parallels to life. There are soft blue days of sailing with cotton candy sunsets. It's the perfect amount of wind hitting your sails at just the right point, steady and not gusty, that gives you the smoothest movement over the water. Like life, this happens randomly and at great intervals. There will more often be rough passages. Or passages that have every type of weather in it. You can experience all kinds of weather within an hour or less out on the water. It's just a fact of our natural world. Our Creator God made it so. Recently I was watching one of the many sailing channels my husband and I enjoy together. This particular family had just anchored after a hard three day and night passage. They had experience sea sickness and extreme waves the whole passage, a sensation that you can imagine feels to be like inside a washing machine. As they dropped anchor and put the drone into the skies, it became clear to them that it was worth every bit of r...

  I have to admit, I don't know how to help. I have found out that on my own, I'm not much help. I need the power of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. Everyday. Here's the thing. We can see the situation clearly. At times we see others' dilemmas quite defined in comparison to ours. We can make all kinds of judgments about how the problem came to be, who is in the wrong, and what needs to be done about the problem, but we have a very hard time moving from the problem to the solution. Current cases in point: War in Ukraine Convalescent of a pandemic Nuclear power threats Human and animal rights...all of these...a plethora of a world in need of a solution. In our homes and churches we have the solution but still draw on human resources in which to blame, judge, and tear apart. If you want to help your suffering fellow Christian at home and in church and around the world, more time should be spent crying, "Abba, Father" on your knees than advocating around the worl...

  The truth is, I've been floundered with the loving of people. I get it really wrong. I don't know how. I don't half the time understand why things irritate and hurt me when conversing and bumping shoulders with others. I'm pretty sure it has more to do with my issues than any cause of theirs. At the beginning of January a theme began to follow me around at every turn. A message at church, my Bible app of the day verse, and of course, the ongoing trial of getting along with people. That makes me sound especially cantankerous and easily offended...which I didn't think I was...I'm still asking God about that. The theme was loving the Lord God with all my heart, soul, and might...and then everyone else. Our pastor said something to the effect that we can't love others properly until we get this loving God thing in order.  While I feel I am gracious and long suffering to others, for the most part, I also can't very well tolerate stupidity and nonsense. So w...

  In our saddened chaotic world, hope is a foreign word. It is rarely presented as just plain Hope. There is always someone who wants to dash reality over most of it. It's almost as if people have become afraid to hope. There is great scoffing about living in a fairy tale and making things glossier than they really are. I'm all for being real. I don't like pretty cliches and pat answers. I can usually tell when someone has actually been through the tough thing they are talking about versus parroting another's story. So I get the whole reality thing.    It's been over a month since I last wrote here. I've been painting and doing house projects and having friends over and doing Thanksgiving and Christmas.  As Bruce and I traveled today to his place of work, I recapped the past six weeks in my mind silently.  A lot of life can happen in six weeks. Some good, some not so good. Or at least it is sometimes difficult to call it good because well, it's often combine...

  We all have those things in life that won't change. No matter how hard we try. We adjust and tweak. Sometimes we pray and fast. We grapple with the wonder that God allows it, because it hurts. And its ongoing. How can a gracious God let something like "this" go on and on and on?  We want to be honest before God. He is our Maker, after all. He is Mighty to save. He is the Changer and Healer. So we cry out all the ugly, nasty, and hard stuff to Him because ultimately He is the only One who can heal our broken places. We try to believe this and directly go there. But there is a process in growing that sometimes takes time. Much too much time passes before we get joy and peace and answers. Often we talk to other broken humans for help first. Because there is the aspect of needing council and the encouragement of someone with skin on them. Someone who can touch you and give you a hug or kind words. But only our Maker can be the One who clothes us with grace and dignity when ...

  Always, I am drawn back to the water. And rocks and sticks and broken bits of glass. I live by a lake, spent last winter in Sarasota Bay in Florida, I recently traveled to the north shore of Lake Superior, and currently I am staying at a hotel in Pateros, Washington spending the week with my husband who is a night shift nurse. The view from our balcony looks out over the Columbia River. Today I sneaked out to the balcony while my husband slept. Stealthily, book and blanket in hand, I slipped behind the room darkening floor length curtain hoping I was quiet enough to not wake him while I opened the door and tip toed out. The sound of the waves lapping against the rocks was superb. That and the sunshine on my face. Words cannot express. And I read. Which always inspires me to write.  So. Lake Superior was a fulfillment of a dream. I have been longing since I entered my forties to spend a day with my big sister. She was the one who guided me through puberty and boys and relatio...