Blogmas 2019, Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts

Blogmas Day 20 – 22: Morning Prayer for Prisoners (D. Bonhoffer)🙏

I came across a snippet of this prayer while reading a book. I looked it up and found what I believe is the complete version. The words really struck me and reminded me a lot of the Psalms. I’m passing on the prayer to anyone who needs encouragement and prayer themselves. Pass it forward, if you’d like.

To read more about Dietrich Bonhoffer, click here. Mr. Bonhoffer coined the term “cheap grace.” One day I will read a biography on the man. And I may try to memorize the below and/or put it in my writing room.

Mr. Bonhoffer died in a concentration camp during the Holocaust. He was a man who knew and lived St. Paul’s famous words: “To live is Christ, to die is gain.” Meditate, chew and listen.

Continue reading “Blogmas Day 20 – 22: Morning Prayer for Prisoners (D. Bonhoffer)🙏”

Ponderings

Running through Silent Hill: On Writing

I have this obsession lately with the movie Silent Hill.* I wrote about my fondness for the film in a previous entry (“Refilling the Tank”) and how I’ve returned to it for creative storytelling and refueling. The mother, Rose, runs throughout the film, either chasing down her daughter, running after clues or fleeing from the town’s varied inhabitants. Women make up the leading characters and they drive the action and decision making. The themes of motherhood, protection and justice are particularly strong and prevalent. The movie isn’t perfect, and contains some explicit gore scenes, but it’s become a dear thing to me. An odd dear.

Today, I started a running program. Small flakes of snow began to fall during my run, much like the ash in Silent Hill that Rose notices upon her entrance to the town. I ran in the drifting snow, listening to an audio book of Jane Eyre when Rose ran past me, her boots skidding on the blacktop beneath her grey skirt. “Sharon!”  she yelled, her voice ricocheting around me. “Sharon!” Rose disappeared into the school building, the door slamming behind against the frame. I skirted Midwich Elementary, ran past the hospital and ended my run at the cliff.

How much is writing like running, I thought, catching my breath. Always chasing, always enduring. Unsure of what comes next at times, but believing we know all the same…

Cue siren. Continue reading “Running through Silent Hill: On Writing”