writing – Sheila Dougal

Why I write about faithfulness and learning to love

Since it’s a new year I thought I would do a sort of a re-introduction to this blog and the why behind it.

A central theme written over my life and tied to everything I write is faithfulness.

About 14 years ago I started blogging. Almost everything I write, whether on my blog, in a poem or essay is born out of nearly 30 years of marriage and 20 years of raising sons. And in those relationships especially, the pursuit of faithfulness and faithful love reigns.

I’m on a quest in life, in my marriage, my parenting, my writing, my work to see the faithfulness of God and learn to live faithfully as well. A persistent question never leaves me, “If I’m really a Christian, if Christ is really risen, if he really dwells in me, then can I learn to love like Jesus?”

Learning to love is tied closely to what it means to be faithful as a Christian. Throughout scripture, God describes his faithfulness in terms of faithful love. A simple search of the phrase, “faithful love,” in the Blue Letter Bible shows how often God is described by his faithfulness and faithful love. Jesus said loving God and neighbor are the greatest of God’s commands and the evergreen tree from which all his law and prophets hang like pine cones.

So what is faithful love? What does God’s faithfulness look like? And What does it mean for me to cultivate faithfulness? It would require much more than a short blog post to answer those questions. Exploring the answers to these questions is what I aim to do on this blog. It’s what I aim to do with my life.

As a point of reference, I looked up the words cultivate and faithfulness in the Webster’s dictionary the other day.

Cultivate means to prepare, to loosen or break up soil; to foster the growth of; to improve by labor; to further or encourage.

Faithfulness is being steadfast in affection, allegiance, firm in adherence to promises or observance of duty; given with strong assurance, true to the facts, to a standard, to an original.

But it’s the message of Psalm 37 that has illuminated my desire to practice faithfulness and faithful love more than any modern definition.

Trust in the Lord and do good; Live in the land and cultivate faithfulness. –Psalm 37:3 NASB

In Psalm 37, David explores the tension and feelings of anger and discouragement sure to rise up while living with people who don’t seek to love God and others. And what is the solution David lands on for how God’s people are to live in such stressful circumstances? Trust God. Do good. And cultivate faithfulness.

And this is God’s instruction to me.

In this marriage, God has not called me to save my marriage, prevent a divorce at all costs, make my husband happy, or employ any formula to get the kind of marriage I want. In my parenting, God has not called me to save my children, prevent them from wandering away from the faith, keep them happy, or make them the people I want them to be. He has called me to trust him and do good. To live in this Arizona suburb with this man, these sons, these neighbors, this church, this government, this job, etc., and prepare the soil of my life to grow the fruit of the Spirit. And to do so steadfastly.

This means not only am I to live out what Eugene Peterson called a long obedience in the same direction, but because of my prone-to-wander state, I must determine to live out a long repentance in the same direction.

God has planted his faithfulness in my life. He has given me the seed of his word. He’s called me to spend my life letting him teach me, and help me, to love him and my neighbors, right here under this roof, and down the street.

I do not claim to have the answers. I have in the past, and probably will still foolishly stumble into blogging, writing and speaking as though I do. If I have any answer it’s a mysterious and real relationship with the Jesus of the Bible. So, as Mary Oliver said in her poem Mysteries, Yes:

Let me keep my distance, always, 
from those who think they have the answers. 
Let me keep company always with those who say “Look!” 
and laugh in astonishment, and bow their heads.

I pray this blog would be a place where I can say, “Look” and we can laugh together in astonishment and worship in response to God’s faithful love and the miracle of his work to produce this love in us.

With the Lord’s help I plan to spend my days growing in the faithful love of God; turning the fallow ground of my life, and learning to produce faithful love the way I was created to. Will you join me?

400 words a day: Evening Ritual

I read somewhere the other day that a writer should implement a practice of writing 400 words a day. Just to keep the word-crafting muscles warm. I thought I’d give it a go. I might not, scratch that, I won’t share my 400 words here everyday, lest these pages read, “Yada yada yada…” 397 more times. But tonight, the 400 words felt like something worth sharing.

I have this ritual every evening where I drive home from work listening to poems or books on Audible or some podcast. Never, almost never, music. And I pull in the driveway unconscious of how I got there. I grab my bag and trash from the fast food breakfast I had on the way to work and head to the front door.

From almost the first moment out the car door I feel alive for the first time all day. The sounds of chickens cock-a-doodle-dooing, doves cooing, owls whooing, mocking birds tweeting, chirping and squawking, the caw of the peacocks down the street and the whoosh and swish and whispers of the wind in the trees… it’s like a symphony of evening. And I can exhale.

But a strange shift happens as soon as I walk in my front door. It’s warm and not in a cozy way, but in a someone-open-a-door-and-let-some-fresh-air-in-here way. There’s dirty dishes on the counter. Shirts and sweaters and hats thrown on the kitchen table. Pieces of frozen dinner boxes that missed the trash on the ground and dog hair pooling in the corners. There’s a pile of laundry from the weekend, unfolded on the couch, some fallen to the floor from a hurried digger looking for that one missing sock before work.

So I call the dog, grab the leash, and happily walk right back out the door again. Its another world. Its Narnia. Its magic. The sky is pale blue, grey, lavender and pink. The moon is full and bright and yellow. The wind is blowing strong enough to make me zip up my sweater. And I’m off. Down the road almost as eager as my shepherd to breath and take in the order, the beauty, the symphony, the calm.

The shepherd isn’t calm though, he’s a pent up ball of excitement, sniffing out every gust of breeze, tail wagging, feet prancing along. Longing to find that spot he found yesterday or last week, where he marked his place on the street and danced on by while the neighbor’s dogs ran up and down the fence line egging him on with their growls and aggressive barks. We just keep walking though. Keep seeing how far these legs will take us into unwinding and releasing the tension of the day into the air, and the ground, and through observation and inhalation and sniffing.

When we turn the corner to head home, on our typical route, its almost disappointing. It’s not that I don’t want to go home, it’s just that I know once I get there, there’s more work to do. And so this evening ritual is more of a daily sabbath.

What I wrote in 2021 and what I dream about writing in 2022

I spent the morning thinking about what I value. I asked myself what the why is behind what I write. I came to the conclusion that I value peace in relationships, overcoming conflict and trouble and helping others overcome conflict and trouble.

I value honoring the Imago Dei in people and the truth that Christ’s redemptive work means nothing is wasted or vain in the Christian’s life.

I care about learning from history and nature and gaining wisdom from the Bible and forefathers and sharing that wisdom with others.

I treasure telling kids about Jesus.

I care about seeking wholeness for myself and others. Being productive is important to me as well as resting. I’m an easily-fatigued, low-energy person, but I value doing something that makes a difference for good in my life and the lives of those around me.

As I’ve thought through these ideas and truths I care about, I hope to use them to guide my writing in 2022.

Looking back over what I’ve written and published, either by blog or another web magazine, in 2021. In 2021 I wrote 20 published pieces. Seventeen of them on my blog. Three online magazines. The purpose of this review was to inventory what I enjoyed most, what the impact was, and what themes I wrote on.

I have a hard time naming the themes in my writings. Most of my posts are personal reflections or thoughts on something I’m troubled by or have been helped by. Two of my posts were book reviews. About a quarter of the blog posts are poems. But three-quarters of my blog is an attempt to persuade others to think differently on a certain subject I see popping up on social media, or to think about God or the hope of Jesus in hard times, or something I”m learning in life or marriage or parenting.

What’s interesting to me is that the posts with the most views were the posts I didn’t expect much of a response from. The series on Remembering God did better than I expected. And the poetry posts (which I love to write) were a viewer flop. I still love writing poetry. Blog views or none.

The three articles I submitted to online publications did well. I enjoyed writing the poem to Fathom Mag the most, but it seems to have had the least impact. The TGC article about marriage has generated a lot of private messages and even a long phone call with a perfect stranger from across the country. The Risen Motherhood article on Launching Adults is probably the article I most enjoyed working on.

Reflecting on what I wrote this year I realized something else- I didn’t achieve the goals I set for writing in 2021. My goal for 2021 was to submit a book proposal about being married to someone who doesn’t worship Jesus. The running title in my mind was: Even If. Following Jesus even when your spouse does not. I did work on several brainstorm sessions about that book, but I couldn’t get past the ugh feeling in my gut. I just don’t really want to write a book about my marriage. I guess I’m torn about it. Part of me feels called to write about my marriage to an unbeliever because I know it’s an underserved topic in teachings and writings among Christians. But the rest of me feels a bit of bitterness about it. I’ve dreamt of writing a book that would inspire and encourage others, but I never thought it would be about the difficult marriage I continue in, with love. I guess I just haven’t worked out my own inner trouble on this subject yet. Maybe one day.

I had also planned to compile the poetry I’ve written over the years into different themed groups. I don’t expect I’d have much of a chance of getting my poems published in a traditional way. I don’t think I”m that great of a poet either. But I’d like to organize my poems and print them into small booklets that I could give to friends and family as gifts. That never happened. I plan to take this up again this year. I’ve already started compiling a group on the subject of sojourning through the liturgical/historical Church year. I’m thinking of a compilation towards Easter. And one towards Christmas. The Church has been a stream forming how I think and the shape I take in framing the world. I want to write poetry along those lines.

Years ago I wrote a poem I imagined as a children’s book about a king and a dragon. I’d like to either develop the poem into a grade-school aged reader’s book, or into a picture book for children. I don’t even know where to begin there. But I’ll do my research and if, like the poetry books it seem unlikely, I’ll print it and even take a stab at illustrating it and send it out as a gift for friends and family.

Today’s reflection on what I wrote in 2021 led to a couple other writing dreams I have. I would like to do some research and write at least a good article (and maybe that would lead to a book) on the subject of the historical church and healthcare and how our history might call us to do something about the healthcare crisis in America as Christians. Another dream- write something inspirational about how it’s not a waste of your life to spend your entire life letting Jesus teach you how to love another well.

So now you know what I wrote in 2021 and what I’m dreaming about writing in 2022. I’d love to hear what writing impacted you in 2021 and what you’d love to read in 2022.

Here are the links to my top 10 blog posts of 2021 in order of most viewed, and my published online magazine articles:

From my blog:

#1 How Four Flawed Churches Helped Me Love Christ More

#2 Bidding Moms of Young Children to Rest in the Power of Christ- A book review

#3 Purity culture: The fruit of our “lawish hearts”- A book review

#4 On Looking Up

#5 Peacemaking

#6 Remember God Can Replace Anyone’s Heart

#7 Ashes, Ashes

#8 Learning From My Marriage: Three Practices To Build Compassion When We Disagree

#9 Remember The Mystery

#10 Remember The Hope of Glory

From the web:

TGC: God hasn’t wasted my marriage to an unbeliever

Risen Motherhood: Launching Adults

Fathom Mag: 27 Years Deep

body, bread and gummy fruit

four toddler forms circle photo — Photo by Archie Binamira on Pexels.com

I “teach” a preschool class at my church a couple times a month. It’s not really teaching, it’s an effort in preventing total rebellion amongst 4 year olds for 1 hour. This poem was sparked by how God always uses those kids to teach me what it’s like to be part of his family. When I sit down, on their level, pull out some food, and read them a story about Jesus… their rebellion stops and they listen. It’s a testimony to me. I wrote this for a writing contest at Fathom Mag, and although I wasn’t a selected winner for the contest, I loved trying to condense my feelings about God’s work through 4 year olds into appropriate words.

Projectiles fly
Bodies collide
“That’s mine!”
Untamable troop
Condescend to crisscross thighs
Offer of gummy fruit
Brings instant mute
Rebellion invaded with feast
Snack and story
One came to our waring
Offered body, bread and juice
Peace introduced