Clapping Back Against a Virus She Didn’t Earn
• Day S I X • Harvester Island Writers Workshop Thursday, Sept. 8, 2022 Today it’s my joy to tell the story of my new friend Dorah Dunigan. She embodies my favorite things: a deep love for Jesus, an overcoming spirit, joy against the odds, and a quick, good-natured wit that she calls “clapping back.” On Thursday,
Enter, the Cranky Editor and the Rain
• Day F I V E • Harvester Island Writers Workshop Wednesday, Sept. 7, 2022 Back in Alaska, we’re deep into the guts of writing scene. “We sent the editor away yesterday, but today we’re going to bring her back. We need the editor, even if she’s cranky,” Leslie says. For me, the editor is always cranky.
The Day God Opened His Zoo
• Day F O U R • Harvester Island Writers Workshop Tuesday, Sept. 6, 2022 Some days just gob smack you. You know that another day could never be like it, even if it tried. At the end of the thing, you exhale hard and thank God for making you feel alive again. Today is that day.
God Smiling, Hands on the Curtain
• Day T H R E E • Harvester Island Writers Workshop Monday, Sept. 5, 2022 I believe when something amazing is around the corner, God anticipates. Ready to pull back the curtain. Ready to show us that Jeremiah 29:11 has been true all along and He can’t wait to open up His big, wild world to
Fears, Fin Whales, and Friendships
• Day T W O • Harvester Island Writers Workshop Sunday, Sept. 4, 2022 Writing camp starts today at Harvester Island, the Fields’ family’s commercial salmon fishing operation. Leslie calls it the “Kingdom of Clean Enough.” We haven’t tested her theory yet. We’ll ease into the morning with lattés, foot massages, and soft music to nurture our
Falling in Love with Nouns and Verbs
• Day O N E • Harvester Island Writers Workshop Saturday, Sept. 3, 2022 It’s noon. A spit-polished group of strangers pack tightly into the living room of Leslie Leyland Fields, our host and writing instructor for the Harvester Island Writers’ Workshop. She’s in my Mount Rushmore of writers. I try to stay chill and not to
For the One Who Wants to Live Again
I love that Jesus held her hand before he healed her. The little girl in Mark 5—the one who died while Jesus stopped to heal someone else—felt the Healer’s hand before she got her healing. Scripture says she was already dead so what did it matter? Maybe Jesus aimed His tenderness at her parents—her dad
Feeling Worthless? Time to Restore Factory Settings.
I wonder if anyone feels worthless today. Worth less at 50 than at 30. Worth less single than married. Worth less without the job title than with it. Worth. Less. If you’d like a rah-rah, straighten-your-crown soundbite, keep surfing the Internet, you’ll find it somewhere. But If you’d like an unabated truth bomb that transforms
The Terrifying Land of Coulda Woulda Shoulda
Today is “Toss Away the ‘Could Haves’ and ‘Should Haves’ Day. In other words, it’s Laurie Davies Day. I kid, but kind of not really. Sometimes I feel like I am where leads go to die. Then other times, I see that I wasn’t ready for the leads that “died.” Parts of Laurie had to
How to Survive the Family Blame Game
Accusation. If you’ve been falsely accused, that very word leads to a jarring, churning pit-in-the-stomach place. Its roots mean “toward” and “lawsuit.” It’s a guilty-until-proven innocent word. If we’re guilty, accusation is the moment of truth. If we’re innocent, accusation is the truth of the moment. Scripture captures this idea. “The first to speak in
Do You Want Life to the Fullest?
Have you ever taken a trip to “get away” but your problems followed you to paradise? Honest show of hands—did any of you escape the COVID lockdown only to discover you’re still a little worn down or torn down? Does life to the fullest feel out of reach? Vacations don’t really fix this. Neither do
How Could a Good God Allow Suffering?
Ocean tides have a profound healing effect on the trauma of my childhood. This is especially true in the afternoon when waves nudge and inch farther into dry sand but eventually they have to obey centrifugal force and God. The mighty expanse of ocean has a line it cannot cross. It can go only this
Would You Like A Life Without Baggage?
I am fresh off an actual in-person conference and it felt like writer’s cramp and a sore face. I haven’t taken notes in two years, not by hand. Those muscles mounted a mutiny. And my laugh-out-loud-until-it-hurts muscles? They needed to be flexed more than I knew. In one workshop, my friend Mary DeMuth pressed her
How To Find a Pain-Free Life
Forever, I’ve wanted to remodel my master bathroom, but it beat me to it. It remodeled me. What were the builders of my step-down shower thinking? Let’s drop a fifteen-square foot hole in the house, line it with slick ceramic tile, and not install grab bars. What could possibly go wrong? I’m sure the Turkish-bathhouse vibe
I Just Wanted To Be Pretty in Pink
“I’m so sorry that happened to your pretty coat,” the flight attendant said, handing me a claim slip to submit to the airline. They’d have my brand new pink coat dry cleaned, she promised. I made the mistake of sticking it in the overhead bin, where items shift during flight and greasy hinges shift your
Go Get Your Life
Chase the dream. Write the book. Say the apology. Forgive the offense. Say the hard yes. Say the hard no. Toss the fraud tapes. Play the God tapes. Rip the bandage off. Lance the wound. Pursue the healing. Put boundaries up. Put armor on. Put yourself out there. Make heaven crowded. Go get your life.
Laurie Davies
