I am a published poet and short story writer. I have been published in SNHU's the penmen review. https://penmenreview.com/author/jenny-andrews is the link where you can find my poetry and a short story. Currently, I am writing a collection of short stories, and a collection of poetry. I am trying my hand at writing a novel. Well, not a novel, actually. Make that two novels. My passion is writing. My inspiration is Franz Krafka because he managed to see the absurdity of life. Life is all about perspective and who is telling the story. We all see this life through the lens of our experiences. Literature should inspire us to think, to analyze, and to get lost in unfamiliar worlds in which we learn something new about this human existence. It is my hope that my writing challenges the reader to think, and to see a different perspective, as well as be entertained. My faith in Jesus strengthens me and gives me the courage to survive the twists and turns of this life. My faith influences a lot of my writing in that goodness always triumphs over evil, in that love conquers all. I hope you enjoy reading my blog.
“I want to sing like the birds sing, not worrying about who hears or what they think.”-Rumi (beliefnet,com)
I love this quote because it reminds me of the importance of just being oneself. We waste way too many years of our lives worrying about other people’s opinions of us. Truth is that we are all different in our own special ways; we all have been blessed with a variety of talents. Nobody is exactly the same. Imagine how absolutely drab and boring this life would be if everyone were exactly the same.
Everyone has differing opinions. This fact should validate our own right to be different. We should follow our own hearts with the secure acceptance that not everyone is going to approve of us. We don’t need everyone’s approval. We just need to be the best possible version of ourselves. The litmus test is if we can look in the mirror and feel proud of the reflection looking back at us. We should enjoy the freedom to live our fullest life according to our own hopes and dreams, not other’s approval or disapproval.
At the end of the day, it is your own reflection that you have to deal with.
We should strive to “sing” our own songs with joy without worrying about “who hears us or what they think,” to paraphrase Rumi.
2019 is quickly coming to an end. Soon enough it will be history. Endings can be sad; in fact, depression increases this time of year. We tend to dwell on those goals we failed to accomplish; we tend to dwell on what could have been and what should have been. We tally up our losses and oftentimes neglect to consider our gains. The truth is that we cannot undo what has been done; we cannot go back and do what we should have done. We have to reconcile ourselves to our choices. It is too easy to search for someone or something to blame for our failures. Of course, we are influenced by conditions beyond our control, such as downward turns in the economy and illness.
We can, however, control whether to watch a movie on Netflix or write a chapter of our novel. We can control whether to spend money on buying shoes we don’t really need or donating money to a reputable charity. Our time is precious and once spent it is irretrievably gone forever.
We must reconcile ourselves to the consequences of our choices. If we waste our precious time dedicated to actions that do not move us towards our definition of prosperity (spiritual, physical, emotional, mental) then we have to reconcile ourselves to those consequences.
It takes courage to accept consequences for our own actions.
In 2020, define what your purpose is in your own life. What matters the most to you? How are you planning to achieve your purpose? What will this time next year look like to you?
Jeremiah 29:11 states: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”
Clearly, you do not have to go it alone. God is ever-present and is supportive of you. Lean on His support. He wants you to prosper and he offers you hope and a future.
A quote of which I have not been able to attribute to an author is:
“God has a purpose for your pain, a reason for your struggles, and a reward for your faithfulness. Don’t give up.”-unknown author (spiritualcleansing.org)
Don’t give up. Just don’t give up. God has a purpose for your life. Find that purpose. You have a purpose. Ask God for guidance to find that purpose. Lean on Him.
Unfortunately, in our world people tend to define success in monetary terms; in truth, success has a far greater definition than just money. When I think of a successful life, I remember my mother and how she shared love and joy. She genuinely loved from her heart and soul. She was never monetarily rich, but her spirit was rich beyond measure.
Define what success is to you. How will you achieve your definition of success?
Zig Ziglar wrote: “You are a success when you have made friends with your past, are focused on the present, and are optimistic about the future.” (Ziglar.com)
2020 is a new year. It is a new decade. This life’s journey only goes forward; there is no turning back on this road.
There is, however, always a sunrise.
With each new sunrise, how are you going to spend your precious time?
Words cannot express the possibility, the probability.
Also,
there is no sound, not even in the silence.
End of the dictionary: Z.
I have reached the end.
Night fell; broke into pieces.
Flute lovingly caresses the night, displaced melody of butterflies racing across Spring valleys filled with sheep, green meadows, stones ancient and crumbling.
What whispers ceased to fall silently into the snow drifts?
Lights against the city-scape, a world doused with apple red wine, igniting nonsense.
Merry-go-round,
too many horses with too many marmosets in hot pursuit.
Can I ever exit the ride?
This fracture is blood and bone deep.
Great grandpa Anastacio abandoned Great grandma Francisca at the old train station on the Chilean border in a place ironically called Paso Los Libertadores.
I lumber along the concourse laden with heavy bags,
faces blur around me like kaleidoscope renderings.
From out of the crowd, his face jars me, transports me back to another time.
I am immobilized by turquoise shadows falling from his familiar eyes.
“I know you,” his voice calls across the trajectory of four decades and reverberates and reawakens someone I used to be.
I call his name; I drop my bags. Awkwardly we share a brief embrace. Strangers push past us.
Tossed backward into time, memory of us, of a night long, long ago on a moonlit stretch of beach.
Over Starbucks coffee, he tells me of his father’s dying in Albuquerque, of his third ex-wife. I tell him of my failed attempts at publishing my great American novel, my inability to find true and lasting love.
He sips his coffee, glances at his watch, fails to speak.
I struggle to find the words to replace those spoken forty years ago. He stands in my memory at the edge of the sidewalk in that old apartment complex with moonlight shining against his handsome face, rain slowly tapping against my windowpane.
He looks up from his coffee, speaks. “I think you should have stayed. I really loved you. I really did. We were young back then. I guess we had to go and conquer our dreams.”
I nod, gather my bags. Sorrow drowns me. The past cannot be undone. Words cannot be unspoken.
He stands; we quickly embrace. We fail to exchange numbers. So accustomed to failure, I resign myself to the loss of him. I let him go. I let him go.
BoBo nestles beside me wrapped in his pink blanket,
Australian Shepard/Beagle/ Dachshund, my little rescuer,
having rescued me from the sadness, from the darkness,
he my shadow, my faithful little friend.
Cold black nose, his lips turning upward as if smiling in his sleep.
His chin resting on his big paws,
my perfect friend,
in his silent sleep, his presence comforts me,
nestled next to me.
Jenny Andrews Copyright 2019
It has been three years since I adopted BoBo from a pet rescue in my community. He was one of a litter; his mother had been rescued as had his father. Dogs (and cats) can bring such joy to someone’s life. Consider adopting from an animal shelter or a reputable animal rescue if you are considering getting a pet. Pets take a lot of care and attention, but they are such a blessing, as well. BoBo has been a blessing to me.
2020 is just around the corner and I am inspired to focus on what I can accomplish in those 365 days. In years past, I wasted far too much time looking back at my mistakes and mulling over my regrets. I have come to realize that life is about ups and downs, successes and failures. Sometimes I win; sometimes I lose. That is just the natural rhythm of life. In this post-modern age we have unrealistic expectations that there is some “perfect” state of being we are supposed to become. It is a taboo to admit that we are sad, angry, lonely, confused or otherwise not “centered” and “mindful.” We are supposed to be “enlightened,” whatever that is supposed to mean.
The truth is that it is emotionally, spiritually, and physically messy to be human. There is no perfect state of being. I say it is more emotionally, spiritually, and physically healthy to just fess up to the hard truth that our lives are not always going to be perfect. There are going to be those inevitable days that we veer off the road and land in the ditch. There are going to be those inevitable days that we just want to sit in the dark and cry. There are going to be those days that we order a large sugary, five-thousand calorie coffee drink from our favorite coffee shop and top it off with a side order of a three thousand calorie chocolate infused pastry. There are going to be those days your mouth opens up and your true thoughts spew out and the sound of your escaping words sound very, very ugly. Life is very, very messy, indeed.
We all make mistakes. We all have regrets. In this upcoming year, my focus is going to be on the future not the past. I have promised myself that if I do make mistakes (and I will inevitably) I will pick myself up and brush myself off and show grace and forgiveness to myself. Maybe in some circles that attitude would qualify me as “enlightened.” I think it just qualifies me as showing self-compassion.
In 2020, my goals include finishing up my writing projects and publishing my work. 365 days are a lot of days. I promise myself not to procrastinate. What is my passion? Writing is my passion. If I don’t focus on my passion I have no one else to blame but myself, after all I am in charge of my own life. I claim 2020 as my year to succeed in my goals. I set my sights on the future.
The writer George Eliot (Mary Anne Evans) wrote “IT IS NEVER TOO LATE TO BE WHAT YOU MIGHT HAVE BEEN.”
Actor John Wayne said “COURAGE IS BEING SCARED TO DEATH-AND SADDLING UP ANYWAY.”
We are all scared in this life. If you are not scared you must not be paying very close attention. It is a very scary world. It is also a beautiful, wonderful world filled with kind people. Surround yourself with beauty and kindness. Be the change you want to see.
Just as John Wayne said, I plan to saddle up in spite of my fear. Just as Eliot (Evans) wrote, I plan to be who I want to be.
Many of you might remember that last fall I posted that my brother Harold had been diagnosed with Stage Three lung cancer. He underwent chemo and radiation which was, of course, not easy. My brother is twenty-one years older than I am. I am the seventh and final child in my family and interestingly I was born on my parents’ twenty-fourth wedding anniversary. My brother has always been a second father to me. I have depended on him throughout my life; the thought of losing him last year was devastating to me. I begged God not to take him from me.
Today, my brother celebrated his seventy-ninth birthday. For this birthday blessing, I praise God. Each day is a blessing because none of us are promised tomorrow. Each day is God’s gift to us. Cancer makes that fact abundantly clear.
My cousin Libby, pictured between my brother and me, is also a cancer survivor. She had a rare form of uterine cancer when she was twenty-eight years old; she just turned seventy-six in November. Birthdays are blessings, indeed.
Of course, one day we all leave this earth and go back to God from whence we came. That is inevitable. It is just the cycle of life. This reality should motivate us rather than depress us. In the limited time that we have on this earth, we should be motivated to do good, show compassion, love fully, forgive, and be thankful for the gifts and the life that God has blessed each of us with. It is not easy, of course, to always feel happiness. Sometimes the darkness falls heavily on each us and we dwell in a dank and bottomless abyss from which we fear that we will never escape. But, we will because there is God who loves us and is never far from us. God is with us in our struggles; God is with us when we are down in the abyss. He is with us in the sunlight and in the dark of night.
My mother Gracie Lee died of spinal cancer in 1993 at seventy-two years old and my sister Sara Jo died of brain cancer in 1991 at forty-nine years old. Trust me with I say that those were the darkest days of my life losing my precious mother and my beautifully amazing sister. Cancer is cruel; it is ugly and it is unrelenting in its devastation. I begged God back then to spare my mother and my sister. I blamed God when they died. I told Him that I wasn’t going to speak to Him ever again. Like a good father, God let me rant and He waited with open arms when I ran back to Him. His love is unfathomable, it knows no boundaries. His love and His forgiveness is all-encompassing.
Today, I sat across the table from brother at his favorite restaurant and watched him enjoy his Chicken Tortilla soup. I remember him when his hair was black and now it is white like snow. I remember when he used to drop me off at my elementary school over fifty years ago, now. Time doesn’t wait for any us. Today, I lingered in the precious moments of this day, my brother’s seventy-ninth birthday, and thought just how blessed we are on this earth to have life, to be able to survive the suffering, to be able to laugh in spite of the pain.
Tomorrow is not guaranteed to any of us. There will always be that inevitable ending looming in the distance. I choose to let that fact motivate me to celebrate each rising sun as a blessing.
I turn my heart toward God, lift up hands, bow my head and praise Him for this day and for all the days to come. I give Him my fears and my hopes and trust that no matter what is to come He will be with me, that He will lead me and those whom I love Home to that place where there will no longer be any suffering. I believe that one day I will see my family again in that place beyond this plane of existence.
Jenny Grace's Poetry and Creative Writing Techniques 