Sheila's Dribs 'n Drabs

My purpose... is to make my readers see through different eyes, to invite them into real and wounded lives, to show the power of forgiveness and the miracle of hope, to invite questions, draw back the curtain, reveal some tiny glimpse of what lies behind. In Bible stories I'll show a real world of real people--real history, real science--and a very real God. In contemporary drama my real people will cry for real release. In animal stories I'm still asking readers to see... In science fiction, in fantasy... My purpose is to write words that people will read. But where will I find the power to place those words where readers will see them? And is my purpose aligned with God's? And is my power for many or for one?

I was given solitude and I wrote alone. I was given quietness and I ignored the noise. I was given awareness when I needed to lead a group and see people's needs. The gift of tolerance made me aware that my tolerance wasn't a crime. And now I have power. Do I?

Star gifts aren't drips of glory from on high. They're not even treasures for us to unwrap, but rather validations of gifts God has given and is using in our lives. We're meant to dip a hand in the dish and remove one star, with prayer, then read and ponder, see and wonder. It's true that all my star gifts have meant something special to me in the past. But this year I got such a wondrous gift, one to long for, to dream of, to desire--a gift of power. All I feel is its lack. But perhaps star gifts aren't meant to be feelings either.

My star gift was power. But what good's power without purpose? Last year I wondered what good my great high purpose might be without power. I guess I'm never satisfied.

My star gift from church, delayed because snow got in the way, was a gray card labelled power. My nerves now frayed from bailing water in the basement, I feel powerless. Meanwhile Mum, harried and harassed by my plight, received the gift of peace. We're both hoping and praying the rain and snow might cease.