Saturday, November 16, 2019

Lost Yesterdays as God Equips Us to Write


by Emme Gannon @GannonEmme

Love once blended with another. As one. Now fading as the mist of dawn. Dreams once pursued now silent. Like the still of a moonless night. Such is the exploding emotions when dreams fade.

Karen Blixen, who wrote by the pen name of Isak Dinesen, started her poignant biography, Out of Africa with, “I had a farm in Africa at the foot of the Ngong Hills.” She went on to passionately describe scenes that had fixed themselves in her heart and mind during the seventeen years of her life there. The day came when it was time to pack up the life she’d known and loved, store it in her heart, and move away. In saying goodbye to Africa, she penned, “If I know a song of Africa, I thought of the giraffe, and the African new moon lying on her back, of the ploughs in the fields, and the sweaty faces of the coffee-pickers. Does Africa know a song of me?” She never returned but her book, Out of Africa, forever sings her love song of when she had a farm “at the foot of the Ngong Hills.”

Saying goodbye to a dream tears at your heart as you reel from the impact of hard choices. When circumstances dictated that I put my husband in Memory Care, I knew his faint knowledge of me would dwindle even more as the disease progressed. As he gazes at me with lost eyes, I remind him of his two tours of duty in Vietnam as a search and rescue helicopter pilot. I point out all of the lives he saved and the American dead he risked his life to rescue from enemy territory and the families that now have a grave to visit on U.S. soil because of his sacrifice. I tell him about the business we started and ran for over thirty years. One built on honesty and integrity. I tell him what an honorable man he is and of his love and commitment to our marriage and family. I remember for him. 

I’m not angry at God. I’m not angry at Agent Orange that dripped from the jungle vines as he navigated his helicopter into tiny openings in enemy territory. God is sovereign. My son recently reminded me that one cannot mourn the past, only rejoice in the many gifts it gives. So, through my tears, I write so that others will have hope as they bridge the gap between closure of one dream and the beginning of another. I illustrate my struggles in story. With happy endings, because a happy ending is what we’re made for. It’s what Jesus came for. It’s what we’ll one day experience in heaven.

Karen Blixen’s dream of a life in Africa had permeated her soul. As the African sun sank below the horizon and burned the sky warm with yellow, red, pink, and orange, she and her farm workers would often sit around the campfire. “Please, Memsahib, talk to us like the rain,” they’d say, describing her storytelling. This lilting rhythmic style that she developed while storytelling carried on into her writing. If we allow, lost dreams will blend into the mosaic of our lives, and breathe new life into our tomorrows.

God never misses an opportunity to use closed doors to nurture our calling. Just answer the call, no matter where it takes you. No matter how unpopular. Be bold and say what you’re meant to say. Do what you’re meant to do. Be a brave soldier. Know that God has equipped you with the words that only you can write. The message only you can bring. The story only you can tell, for partial obedience is disobedience. Dance until the music stops. God’s dream for us will be fulfilled. If not in this life, in eternity, where we were born to reign with Christ forever. 

We’re not to live in the past, but if lessons are learned well, the past can weave into our todays and tomorrows and bring both wisdom and memories of a life well lived. We’ll see how God knew that we’d need the joy of yesterday to bring a smile to today. Sometimes through tears, but a smile just the same. Looking back, we’ll remember that we braved the odds and experienced that spiritual place on earth that is only available in union with God.  Letting go isn’t failure but, instead, is trusting God for tomorrow—one where visions are not as clear and the advantages do not seem great. We are embarking on new territory, still seen through a vapor but one day will be as clear as the Carolina sky on a cloudless day. 

TWEETABLE

Emme Gannon is a wife, mother, and grandmother who loves to write stories that stir the heart. Her award-winning writing has appeared in Focus on the Family magazine, several anthologies, and numerous newsletters. She just completed her first novel.

16 comments:

  1. Thank you Emme for a rich post that is heartwarming and heartbreaking. "One cannot mourn the past, only rejoice in the many gifts it gives," is a reminder that speaks to me especially during this holiday season.

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    1. Thank you, Marilyn, for your sharing your thoughts. I'm so grateful that my words were a gift to you, especially as we approach a season of rejoicing, but also sadness for many. Blessings to you.

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  2. Emme,what a beautiful piece. Your words brought back some sweet memories of my husband who also served two tours in Vietnam. He often spoke of the chopper pilots who saved their "butts." You have given me mych to think about this morning. Thank you for writing.

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    1. Judy, thank you so much for your response. Please thank your husband for his service. May the Lord replace those horrible war memories with His peace.

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    1. Thank you, Jennifer, for your encouragement. Blessings to you.

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  4. Emme, I found myself reading slowly so I could savor your words here. What a beautiful way to put it.

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    1. Thank you, dear Ane. Bless you in your beautiful writing.

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  5. I cry with you this morning as I read your words. Their texture weaves their way into my heart. Their emotion tears at my soul. I know your husband was ill my friend, but I did not know he was CSAR pilot. I wonder whom we know; had we seen each other through the canopy of trees at some time. So much respect and admiration for all He is. Dementia and Alzheimer's is a terrible thief. I pray that somewhere in the deep recesses, he finds peace. I'm certain he finds love each time you visit my friend. Thank you for showing me the importance of our words. Yours are moving this day. God's blessings Ms. Emme.

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    1. Bless you, J.D., for your comforting words and also for your service and sacrifice. I pray for peace for all our vets and that the Lord will exchange their memories of war for His peace. I lay my hands on my husband"s head and pray for Jesus' peace each visit. I trust the Holy Spirit continually moves, for the Holy Spirit is us is whole and eternally alive, and never touched by disease. God's richest blessings and peace be upon you, J.D.

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  6. Oh, Emme, this is another heart-felt and soul-stirring post...as always. I'm so sorry for what you are walking through with your husband. Glad you are remembering for him. This encouraged me in my present struggles and during a hard and long waiting period. The Lord is teaching me about His soverignty and providence as I wait. And I'm seeing more clearly His heart, so full of love and adoration for me, His child.

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    1. Thank you for your kind and tender words. I'm grateful they encouraged in some way. So often during a dark period in our lives, God seems silent. But He is always with us, even though it seems otherwise. Often, as in this peace, He speaks to us through our own words, as we remain true to the call to write. Prayers as you wait, dear friend.

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    1. Thank you for blessing with your comment, Diana. May the peace and love of Jesus cover you and your writing.

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  8. Thank you for sharing your heart-felt words and for reminding us that our writing is important.

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    1. I'm always honored when my words are read and touch others. For that is why we write - to honor God and bless others. Thank you, Diane, for reaching out. Blessings to you and your writing.

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