Writing and Blogging | Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Which Prophet Are You? On Being Content with Who You Are, and Renouncing Comparisons

Michaelangelo’s rendering of Jeremiah

I was fretting about my blog yesterday, because I haven’t been writing much.

And I decided there and then, one of those “defining decisions” in Mark Batterson’s phase, that shape a life, that I would never fret about my blog again. That I would instead entrust it to God and work with the power of the Holy Spirit.

Also—and I exhaled a big sigh of relief at this decision—that I would never allow myself to fret, or be jealous, or made anxious by anyone else’s success.

Ah, let me tell you, this resolution is a BIG help when you wade through your Facebook newsfeed of bloggers and writers reading, writing, publishing, connecting, shining, and you, you are tired, and trying to learn to run, and get organised, and wake early and work long hours–keystone habits you really should have got down in your twenties, keystone habits you try to impress on your girls.

* * *

However, if a spiritual writer wants to bear fruit that will last, as I want to, what she really needs to be able to do is tune in to God’s voice, to hear what the Spirit is saying to the church and to her. And in this lonely, solitary pursuit, there is no competition.

How foolish for Isaiah to try to be small and jewelly like Habakkuk, or Habakkuk to want to be as sweeping and devastating as Jeremiah. Or for Micah, the down to earth, to want to be wildly, mysteriously prophetic as Ezekiel was–mystic creatures, and wheels within wheels! And Joel, with his promised comforts of restoration and the Holy Spirit, is writing just what he is supposed to write, though he might not diet like Daniel, nor brave the jaws of lions. Each of them, while being sheerly themselves, inspire us, in different ways.

This then is the task before writers—what we once did instinctively as children. What we once could not help doing. To be ourselves.

* * *

And guess what? Habbukuk who, in three chapters, tells us

Though the fig tree does not bud

and there are no grapes on the vines,
though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no food,
though there are no sheep in the pen
and no cattle in the stalls,
¹⁸yet I will rejoice in the Lord,
I will be joyful in God my Savior.

¹⁹The Sovereign Lord is my strength;
he makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
he enables me to tread on the heights.

has spoken to people’s hearts just as much as Jeremiah who wrote 52 chapters, but also comforts us in a beautiful image of Christian productivity—sending out your roots to secret streams.

“Cursed is the one who trusts in man,

who draws strength from mere flesh

and whose heart turns away from the Lord.

That person will be like a bush in the wastelands;

they will not see prosperity when it comes.

They will dwell in the parched places of the desert,

in a salt land where no one lives.

“But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord,

whose confidence is in him.

They will be like a tree planted by the water

that sends out its roots by the stream.

It does not fear when heat comes;

its leaves are always green.

It has no worries in a year of drought

and never fails to bear fruit.”

Joel who, in three chapters, assures us that the Lord can restore the years the locusts have eaten because, heck, he created everything and so he can– and promises us more, that the Lord will pour out his spirit on all flesh, both men and women speaks as powerfully to us as Ezekiel who writes 48 chapters, and offers a vision of enduring creativity for those who live in the river of God’s blessing.

* * *

Through the process of living, we discover whether we are called to be beautiful miniaturists like Habakkuk, Joel or Micah, or mighty thundering prophetic voices like Isaiah, Jeremiah and Ezekiel–or whether, indeed, our legacy might purely be what we did, not what we said, like the prophets Elijah and Elisha.

To be happy and holy, and God’s writer, however, we must be the writer we are, within the limits of our strength, energy, education, intelligence and personality, and rejoice and be glad in the calling he has chosen for us from all eternity, because he loves us!

On Training to be a Vicar in the Church of England (A Guest Post by Jules Middleton)

By Anita Mathias

I am excited to host this guest post by my friend, Jules Middleton, an ordinand in the Church of England.

Southwark Cathedral

Anita has asked me to write about my experiences at Vicar School. I am an Ordinand (ie: hoping to end up as a Vicar in the CofE), studying a 3 year part-time Foundation Degree in Theology for Ministry at SEITE (South East Institute for Theological Education). The college covers four dioceses, including both full and part time students, those doing lay courses (ie: they won’t get ordained at the end); and those hoping for paid jobs like me (stipendiary ministry) or those who will be self supporting (NSM or SSM). We all come from a wide range of churchmanship and traditions and are a very mixed bunch.

* * *

So, Vicar School – sounds so jolly nice doesn’t it? Almost conjures up images of greying men in tweed and middle-aged women in twin sets in wood panelled rooms, bibles open on our desks listening intently whilst we are taught good exegesis. Of course, the reality is rather different. On my course, we are very mixed: in age, churchmanship and dress – not sure I’ve seen a single twin set actually!

And it’s nice that we are all so different because we can learn so much from each other, but because so many of us are doing different things it can be harder to form strong relationships. For example there are people I only ever see when we’re away on study weekends which is about twice a term. It does get a bit confusing – I am just over half way through my first year and I think I’m just about getting the hang of it all!

So how did I end up here? Well, just getting into Vicar School is a slog in itself. Getting selected for me meant going through the ‘discernment process’ in the Church of England. My husband always jokes that this sounds like a bunch of bearded polo-necked men in a room thinking a lot, and well, there certainly was a lot of thinking involved. It’s a pretty thorough process that I usually describe as like going through intensive therapy. Very worthwhile but hard work and a bit of an emotional roller coaster too. So when I was finally selected and ready to go to college, it felt like the end of a rather long journey when the reality is, it’s actually just the beginning of another hard slog.

So, the course began back in September last year, with a weekend away with the other first years. Literally thrown in at the deep end: a weekend away with a bunch of strangers in surroundings that would be at home in a Harry Potter movie (ever been to Aylesford Priory?) Trouble with the weekends is that they start on a Friday evening and if you’re anything like me, by Friday evening all I am capable of is vegging on the sofa with a glass of red and some trashy telly.

And yet, here I was, all ready for some academic hard stuff. I’ve got to admit I wrote in my journal on that first evening ‘what the **** I doing here?!’ Since then it’s been pretty full on. We’ve had several weekends away, had some fantastic teaching, done our Mission Placement and begun to form friendships too.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised at God working through the course to teach me, mould me and guide me, but I am. From the first term’s teaching on church history, which I thought would be massively dull but actually really loved; to getting fed up with more traditional worship styles (I’m a charismatic) and then finding myself weeping uncontrollably during a Eucharist. From reluctantly starting the discipline of the Daily Office and then finding that God speaks to me through it every day; to realising that at heart I am an Anglican. It’s been quite staggering really (especially the Anglican bit…).

I’m also loving how what I am studying is really feeding into my work – I work for my church and it’s amazing how things that seem pretty irrelevant just slot into what I am working on. For instance, I’m currently preparing a report for church on mission and growth, most of which will also feature in an essay I’m doing (rather convenient that one…)

Of course there are still moments when I wonder what on earth God has got me into. Weeks when I have work and college deadlines looming, or when my kids are on school hols and I still have to find time to study, or, as is coming up shortly, planning for the dreaded whole week away at Easter. There have been days when I have wished that I were the kind of person who would be content to be a stay at home mum, when it all seems just too much.

And yet these are the moments when I am reliant on God more than ever. To be honest, without him I think I’d have walked away after the first evening.

So, as I look ahead there is a certain level of mild panic at what the future holds, at where God might send us, but at the same time there is excitement too. I have learned so much already and yet I still have so much to learn. I am loving learning, loving getting back into academic writing, loving the reading (well most of it, not so sure on Kantian ethics….) and the research.

This is a path that whilst being terrifying and unsettling, also feels completely right and where I am meant to be.

Over to you: Have you considered ordination, or been through the selection process or “Vicar School”? Share your story?

Jules Middleton

P.S. Jules is asking for your help if you’ve been through the discernment process.

Jules Middleton is a mum and wife, Christian, artist, ordinand and blogger. Her blog Apples of Gold reflects her Christian journey in every day life.

In which God Multiplies Our Creativity, Our Time and Our Talents

By Anita Mathias

Image Credit

I have no difficulty in believing the Gospel accounts of healings, but the feeding of the 5000 leaves me dazzled. Now how exactly did that happen?

However, it’s easier to believe it than to believe that Matthew, Mark, and John, eyewitnesses, were deliberately lying.

So, though my rational mind boggles, yes, I believe it happened– without understanding exactly how it happened.

* * *

There is a similar miracle in the Old Testament, where Elisha feeds 100 with 20 loaves, and there were leftovers–and there are contemporary accounts of similar multiplications.

Heidi Baker (subject of this sensitive and adulatory Christianity Today cover story )says this in an interview.

Q–You’ve seen a type of miracle that is not mentioned in Jesus’ earthly ministry, but He did do something similar – the multiplication of food to feed a crowd. In your case, you witnessed the multiplication of Christmas presents. What happened?

Heidi Baker—That only happened once.

However, we’ve had the food multiplied many times. And it’s just super-exciting every time. We always cry. And we don’t test God. We buy as much food as we can. I knew God would multiply food. I’d seen him do it. But I thought it would be a little over the top for Him to multiply presents. That was my theological background kicking in.

I love to give gifts. I was giving out Christmas presents one year in southern Mozambique on a 120-degree day. I sat on a grass mat, looking each child in the eye, loving and blessing them. My staff had worked for months on getting all the presents together. I don’t even know how many we had, maybe a thousand or so gifts. The homeless were there and the street kids were there and all of our own children were there.

We were getting to the end of the line and our teenage girls were now in the queue. A helper, who happened to be a psychiatrist, was next to me. Her name was Brenda. I was thinking of John 15 and I just looked at one of my own girls and said, “What do you want?” The psychiatrist really got ticked off and said, “I told you, there are stuffed dogs in the bag.” I knew the girls didn’t want old second-hand stuffed dogs. I said to the girl again, “What do you want?” A couple of the girls yelled out, “Beads. Beads.”

I just prayed, and I looked up to the Lord and said, “Brenda. They want beads.” She reached in and started screaming, “There are beads in the bag.” She started sobbing. Some people from Argentina, who saw it happen, started jumping and screaming. My Mozambican helpers did the same thing. We were all sobbing and pulling out beads. That was a powerful experience. We had also counted something like 24 wrapped checkerboards and gave out twice that number.

* * *

It’s the old Lewisian trilemma again— A man who said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic–on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg–or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. (Mere Christianity, Chapter 7).

So perhaps Heidi is a lunatic, but lunatics do not care for 5000 children; or a liar, but someone so radiant with the love of God as Heidi is unlikely to lie about him. Or the power of God is vaster than I can imagine.

I’m going with that.

* * *

Actually we see the multiplication of loaves and fishes every day.

We see it in nature, in the bounty from seeds; we see it from animals who are lovingly looked after, 2 chicks multiplying to 50.

We see it from the immense riches which come from a good idea, from Adobe’s InDesign which sells for $700 or Microsoft Word or Matlab which sell for $100. Books, often still in the author’s head, sell for six figures. We see multiplication of the loaves and fishes in eBay, which has no stock, but is basically an idea: that people are basically good, and so strangers can safely enter into transactions. Facebook, where our relentless activity relentlessly contributes to its valuation, is also just website based on an idea–and is now valued at $250 billion!

The immense wealth, immense abundance in the universe, often comes to people in the form of good ideas.

* * *

How can we experience creative abundance?

Most bloggers write just a fraction of the blog posts in their heads. Most writers write just a minuscule fraction of all the good books they are capable of writing. In Keats’ phrase, they die, “before their pen has gleaned their teeming brain.”

The air in the room in which I write is full of signals. Signals to my TV, my radio, my iPhone, my laptop. Thousands of ideas in the air of my room, available to me as I switch on a gadget.

And God’s thoughts too are in the air of this room.

How precious to me are your thoughts,God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them,

they would outnumber the grains of sand (Ps 139)

God’s thoughts pouring down, shimmering, more of them than every grain of sand on the seashore.

How do I access this infinity of ideas, and more importantly, find time and energy to write them down?

The short answer, I suspect, is absolute surrender. Giving God the key to every room of the house of our lives.

* * *

As with the Feeding of the Five Thousand, accessing God’s power a mixture of our effort and God’s goodness. The disciples offered their five loaves of bread and two fish. And God did the rest.

It’s a mixture of left-brain strategy and resourcefulness, and a right-brain openness to what God is up to.

I usually have dozens of ideas for blog posts which I have dictated to my phone or noted on my laptop. Finding time and energy to write them down will partly be a matter of revising my life.

* * *

Our lives are a web of hundreds of habits, some helpful, many unhelpful. Becoming more creative and productive will be a matter of revising habits at the micro-level, plugging the micro-leaks of time, the micro-actions in which we have not given Jesus the key to our time and lives, and are therefore acting outside the will of God.

For instance, I am trying to get into the habit of not writing or praying while I have access to Facebook, twitter, email or newspapers on my laptop. I switch them off using the apps SelfControl and StayFocusd. This greatly helps my focus.

I am trying to wake early and sleep early, because odds are I will use early morning time a bit better than late night time.

I write more and sleep better if I exercise, so I am trying to ensure that I weave exercise into my day, and get 10,000 steps on my Fitbit.

The peace and focus that domestic order brings, working in tidy and decluttered surroundings, immensely helps creativity.

Emotional tension drains our focus and energy, so I am doing the work of forgiving the people I need to forgive. And trying to seek Christ’s eyes and mind about the people I find annoying. And doing the mental and emotional work: forgiveness, perhaps, or realising that God has placed them in my life for a refining reason, for me to learn patience and kindness and empathy and tolerance. To see the good in them, and to practice firmness and saying No if necessary. To realize that even if someone’s intent towards me is wholly malignant, God can protect me.

There are spiritual practices which help creativity—remembering I am one with Christ, and so have access to the Father’s ideas, and wisdom on how to do a shapely blog, for instance. Mentally positioning and visualizing myself in the force field and waterfall of God’s goodness and power when I start writing.

Living in love not only feeds the emotional needs which make it easier for us to be productive, but is a fast-track into abiding in God, and having Jesus abide in our souls. Jesus replied, “Anyone who loves me will obey my teaching. My Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them. John 14:23. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. John 15:12.

In Christ are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. (Col 2:3). Hidden. And as we increasingly align ourselves and our lives with him, and keep seeking him, we begin to hear his answers to all the knotty questions of our lives. How do I lose weight? How do I become more productive?

* * *

I have not found the answers to increasing my productivity and getting all the ideas in my head onto the page yet—but I am more productive than I was a year ago.

As with many things in life, the answer may come as a process rather than a miracle, but I am on my way, still learning, still seeking, still knocking.

In which Sarah Bessey Writes a Guest Post: The Genesis of a Jesus Feminist

By Anita Mathias

Jesus Feminist

Jesus Feminist grew organically out of my life in Christ.

As a writer and blogger, I love to write through my life to figure out what I think and believe and dream about God, as well as the Church, marriage, motherhood, community, global issues, all of it.

So as I was writing through these intersections of women and Scripture, the kingdom of God and missional theology, freedom and justice, through my own habit of storytelling, the book simply began to grow in my heart and mind. It wasn’t born out of anger or bitterness or even a need to set the record straight about anything.

Instead Jesus Feminist took shape out of my own history as a beloved daughter, in my experiences in the Church as a woman, in my heart for justice and wholeness for God’s daughters, my passion for writing out my life, and most particularly in my adoration of Jesus and commitment to live into the Kingdom of God. All those things came together and over the course of a few years, the book began to grow.

* * *

I define feminism as the simple belief that women are people, too. At the core, feminism simply means that we champion the dignity, rights, responsibilities, and glories of women as equal in importance to those of men, and we refuse discrimination against women. That’s it. [Read more…]

Writing with the Wind of the Wild Goose of the Holy Spirit in your Wings

By Anita Mathias

Wild Geese fly in a V formation. The lead goose reduces the wind resistance; the others glide, almost effortlessly, in the currents she has created.

During a storm, the eagle waits perched on the edge of its nest for the wind to gain sufficient velocity. Once she knows the direction in which the wind is roaring, she spreads her wings wide, and effortlessly glides into the winds of the storm.

Have you ever seen hawks or eagles soar, wings outstretched, rising without a single beat of their magnificent wings, soaring, soaring? They are soaring on thermal currents—masses of air that rise when the ground rapidly warms up. Or sometimes, obstruction currents, when wind currents are deflected by mountains, cliffs or tall buildings. The resulting updraft lifts them to high altitudes at which they glide.

* * *

The Wild Goose was an emblem of the Holy Spirit in Celtic tradition.

And the eagle, in Scripture, is a symbol both of God, and God’s people.

Eagles never waste their energy flapping their enormous wings—they wait for, and then use thermal currents and obstruction currents to soar on the wings of the wind…

Flying is so much easier when we sense the direction the wind of the Holy Spirit is blowing in our lives, and in the world, and then open our wings and fly in that direction, using the energy he generates within us, and in circumstances around us.

* * *

I have been reading about “the anointing,” in R. T. Kendall’s splendid, “The Anointing.”

He writes: “The anointing is when our gift functions easily. It comes with ease. It seems natural. No working it up is needed. If one has to work it up, one has probably gone outside one’s anointing. If one goes outside one’s anointing, the result is often fatigue, that is weariness or spiritual lethargy that has been described as ‘dying inside.’”

* * *

I find that with my writing on my blog, and indeed all writing. God is speaking. Not God spoke, but God is speaking. He is by His nature continuously articulate, A. W. Tozer wrote. If I listen to what the Spirit is saying to me through the events of my life, record the mini-revelations or epiphanies given to me each day by the God who speaks continuously and is never silent, then blogging is quick, easy and delightful. And what’s more, it often speaks to people.

It’s when I write to grow my blog, wonder if I should write the topical posts that everyone else is writing, be strategic, capture the zeitgeist– that blogging feels heavy, a chore, work rather than play. Why? Because the wind of the Spirit is not helping me soar; I have to expend scarce energy with a mighty, exhausting flapping of wings.

There is a lightness to God’s work, an amused creativity—we get the impression He tossed off zebras, giraffes, toucans, morpho butterflies and orchids in a massive outburst of creativity. God was at play as these beautiful things came into being, step by step through the mighty forces of evolution. His work was deep play.

* * *

In his book, Homo Ludens, or Man the Player, the Dutch historian and cultural theorist, Johan Huizinga, suggests that culture stems from humans at play, humans playing with words, or music or paint or the sketches of mighty cathedrals.

And when I record the whispers of the spirit, write in the updraft of the wild goose of the Holy Spirit, blogging is easy, light and delightful. It has a bit of the playfulness with which I imagine God made the world. I am playing in the fields of the Lord, playing with God, thinking aloud, probably making all sorts of mistakes–but there is a fun and lightness to it all.

Why I Run: A Guest Post by Jennifer Luitwieler

By Anita Mathias

Read on and be inspired by this guest post from Jennifer Luitwieler, pictured here running in the Pittsburgh Marathon

If it is true that every act is sacred, then running is my most perfect sacred act.

Sometimes, running is my sacrifice, where I haul all my insecurities, inhibitions, pains and frustrations to the altar and leave them there. Where I remember that to run the race efficiently, it is wisest to race unencumbered. We tend to think these things we lug around with us are precious and personal and eternal. But we are not so special, we are not unique to the experience of pain. And so, when I run, I can cut the ties on the baggage straps, sacrificing the dross for the breath of life.

Sometimes, running is my penance. I am no stranger to bad mom or bad wife moments. I have been a bad friend, a horrible listener, a disrespectful daughter or arrogant teacher. I have been the urgent and Very Important Driver behind you in traffic. Strapping on my runnings shoes is not akin to shrugging into the hair shirt, but there are days when I want to outrun the pain I may have caused others.

Sometimes, running is my joy. Believe me when I say I never saw that coming. My athletic endeavors had been restricted to required phys ed class in high school lo these many years ago. But there are days now, sometimes even consecutive days, when to run is to remember what it was like to be a child, loping free on the grass, the uncontained, irrational pleasure of youth.

Sometimes…no, every time, running is my prayer. Running is my worship. If prayer is relationship and worship is experiencing His presence, then running is my prayer. Because when I run, He has set my feet in a wide place. When I run, I am in the safest place to admit the depths of my wounds, to express the heights of my gratitude. When I am running is the only time I feel like I can say exactly the words I want to say to Him. And when I can hear the smallest murmur. When I run, I can rage, and praise and doubt. And when I run, I am engaged with every part of me.

Running is my sacred expression.

Jennifer Luitwieler is a writer in Tulsa, OK. She and her husband have three children, and homeschool one of them. She is an fan of both American football and football. She started running to take care of The Dog’s business. Now, she runs to take care of her own. Her book Run With Me: An Accidental Runner and the Power of Poo was published in 2011 by Civitas Press. She writes a family fitness column for Tulsa Kids and a monthly essay for Deeper Story. You can also read more from her at Jennifer Luitwieler. Find her on twitter and facebook, too.

Being Authentic Can Be Tricky, But NOT Being Authentic Can Break Your Heart

By Anita Mathias

I read this entry in Emerson’s journal when I was 21.

Journal, March 29, 1832

I will not live out of me.
I will not see with others’ eyes.
My good is good, my evil ill.
I would be free— I cannot be
While I take things as others please to rate them.
I dare attempt to lay out my own road.
That which myself delights in shall be Good
That which I do not want— indifferent
That which I hate is Bad. That’s flat.
Henceforth, please God, forever I forego
The yoke of men’s opinions. I will be
Lighthearted as a bird & live with God.

I decided to live like that. Not praising what I don’t like. Not pretending to like it. Not making small talk that bores me. Not smiling at what I don’t consider funny. Being myself

And it proved harder than I imagined, especially—oddly–when it came to writing.

***

Thomas Merton observes in his essay “Integrity,”

“Many poets are not poets for the same reason that many religious men are not saints: they never succeed in being themselves. They never become the man or the artist who is called for by all the circumstances of their lives.

They waste their years in vain efforts to be some other poet, some other saint.

They wear out their minds and bodies in a hopeless endeavour to write somebody else’s poems or possess someone else’s spirituality.”

There can be an intense egoism in following everybody else. People are in a hurry to magnify themselves by imitating what is popular—and too lazy to think of anything better.

Hurry ruins saints as well as artists. They want quick success and they are in such haste to get it that they cannot take time to be true to themselves.

Masks, pretence and imitation: temptations in writing and blogging—areas in which, ironically, one should be most oneself.

“Every original writer must create the taste by which he is to be relished,” Wordsworth observed. Labouring in obscurity, a writer or blogger finds a voice, fashions a unique poetic style. Or perfects an expression of outrage at things rotten in the state of Christendom. And becomes hugely popular.

And then there are myriad imitators. But the flourishes, the pretzel sentences, the circuitous locutions–sound distorted in the echo chamber, obscuring rather than clarifying meaning.

However, “Me Too” books and blogs written in the updraft of a successful writer achieve a more rapid success! Of course, they do

In Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, Mephistopheles offers Faust all the world at the cost of his soul. Faust thought he had a great deal– until he had to pay the price!

The Mephistophelean bargain which faces writers is compromising our one wild and precious life for success. However, by not writing about what really interests us, in a style we consider beautiful, we, ironically, sacrifice the very joys that attracted us to writing.

And if we write what “the market wants” and get it wrong–ah, the misery!

I was tempted as a younger writer. A memoir of my Indian Catholic childhood was the book I really wanted to write, but the two chapters I had written about volunteering with Mother Teresa won a Minnesota State Arts Board award; a Jerome Foundation award, and fellowships to Writers’ Conferences, and my professor thought I could find an editor and agent, which I did, but I tried to write the book the editor wanted; an elderly distinguished man who’d discovered several famous writers, writing not what interested me but what I thought would interest him, and in the style I thought he would like.

I spun out what I wanted to be two 30-40 page chapters into a whole book–my short cut to success!! Well, the book, written in blood through my pregnancy and two years of my toddler’s life, was rejected. Of course, it was! It was written for a career, not to express my soul’s imperatives.

I lay down on the carpet and wanted to die. Crushed!

I gave up writing for a season, became an entrepreneur, founded a small company I still own.

I eventually returned to writing, of course, sadder, wiser–and, in jerks, to drafting the book I really wanted to write.

But I have learnt from my mistakes, and now hope I will be too smart to expend my one wild and precious life writing on things that do not really interest me.

And if success, consequently, eludes me? Well, the internet and democratization of writing has changed things. Success is now on a continuum, and I am content to take my place on it, be it “high or low or soon or slow” and write for the joy of creating, as birds sing for the joy of singing.

* * *

The first version of this was hosted by Esther Emery on her brilliant blog.

anita.mathias