Wow. What a weekend.
Of incredible speakers, enthusiastic attendees and huge doses of challenging inspiration, including that from the mouths of William Paul Young, author of The Shack, and Ken Wytsma, founder of The Justice Conference.
After the Faith and Culture Writers Conference, I feel like my brain is soaking in a tub of brilliance and questions — the folds soaking up the yes and the what do I think and the what next.
The Faith and Culture Writers Conference represented my first writers’ conference and also my first time on the planning committee for something of this magnitude, and it stretched me all kinds of ways, and I am glad I said yes.
In particular, I delighted opening my house to three attendees (and friends!) and talking with people at the event with whom I’d matched writing mentors and agents so they could share their vision and those stories just dying to come out.
In a week and a half, I’ll fly half-way across the country to Nebraska for my second ever conference, or retreat as it’s being called, for writers and artists and dreamers of all kinds.
And, though I don’t know the exact why of my going, I’m pretty sure I officially count as a dreamer. And sometimes it’s joy and other times struggle to place these dreams in the context of this everyday life of laundry, practice shuttling and bedtime routines.
I’m working to receive the dreams without accompanying answers. Trying to sit quietly in the presence of the Giver of Dreams and see the dream in the faces of my children and listen, and do one small thing, and trust — not yet seeing the evidence.
I wrote about it this morning at (in)courage:
The wind rushes the length of my street, stirs the shiny green leaves of the laurel and the delicate red-tinged crabapple, setting berries to shimmy like dangly earrings.
The wind brushes between my socks and the hem of my pants, cues the chimes to play.
I know the wind is real, but I believe in it fresh when I see it and behold evidence that it’s moving.
Many years ago in a nearly empty café, I wrote line after painful line, stomach churning over my inability to express myself the way I desired. That day God spoke to me through my own pen that I needed to write, and he would take care of the rest.
God stirred.
At the age of 18, God told me I’d marry a wonderful boy. A few months later, the wonderful boy broke up with me.
Six years later, we married.
God moved.
Fifteen years ago, on a college mission trip, I cleaned rooms in a trash-filled, bloodstained single-room occupancy hotel in San Francisco. I felt deep inside the pain of those who lived there, along with an unfathomable peace. I felt the stirring of God’s message: he had chosen me for painful work, walking alongside the broken and hurting.
God rushes, God brushes, God speaks, God nudges. Sometimes in the pebbles of everyday circumstances thrown in water, rippling in slow motion circles; other times with rocks placed right here, creating monuments of remembrance that we heard his voice.
But what of the times all seems still, when we don’t see or feel God moving? What of these times we wait?
Won’t you join me here to read the rest?
Connecting through the power of stories written, spoken and lived
![Sometimes nothing says it quite like the way of a child. Before the rest of the house wakes, I read the account of Easter morning in the Jesus Storybook Bible: "And it seemed to [Mary Magdalene] that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy-- the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds...her heart." The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive, and so are we. And it is new. Once again. Yes, it is always new...He is risen indeed!](https://scontent.cdninstagram.com/t51.2885-15/s320x320/e35/17934124_1877271335863004_8139172358331039744_n.jpg "Sometimes nothing says it quite like the way of a child. Before the rest of the house wakes, I read the account of Easter morning in the Jesus Storybook Bible: \"And it seemed to [Mary Magdalene] that morning, as she ran, almost as if the whole world was singing for joy-- the trees, tiny sounds in the grass, the birds...her heart.\" The tomb is empty. Jesus is alive, and so are we. And it is new. Once again. Yes, it is always new...He is risen indeed!")
Such needed words here Ashley.
The wait after the whisper. That is exactly where I find myself. The hard part is that as God is drawing me out, leading me to pursue and be something different more than I never imagined, a natural separation has occurred with my family and others. The good thing is that God has kept me and my husband close, and given {some} of the same dreams and desires, not to mention bringing other women to my life with the same heartbeat, either face to face or online just when I need it. What you wrote about being “small” and “simple” as we serve right where we are really resonated with me. It is almost verbatim what God has been speaking to me all this past winter.
So awesome you got to go away to a writer’s conference!
Cheers,
Leah
Leah, so glad to see you. The wait after the whisper…what a great way to put it. I’m so sorry for the pain involved with this part of your journey, but am thankful that God has deepened your connection with your husband and some like-hearted friends. I can imagine this has been a very painful process. Right now I’m praying that you would feel God holding you close as you embrace the everyday small. And may you find joy in the simple done in love — those things that no one else notices. Bless you, friend.
Great thoughts! Thanks for sharing!
Thank you, Jody! So thrilled to have met you through the Faith and Culture Writers Conference. I look forward to spending some time in your online space very soon.
I get so impatient, Ashley. I love how you drew out the waiting process here, and how you assured us that God’s timing is unlimited and we have to serve in the everyday, while we wait. I am working to do that joyfully, and it’s amazing how everyday life adds up to those dreams I think I’m waiting for!
The conference was a blessing, and I pray you are encouraged and truly ‘retreat’ on your next adventure! *slightly jealous*
Tresta, I get so impatient, too! I love what you say: “everyday life adds up to those dreams I think I’m waiting for.” That is truly profound…I’ll be chewing on that for a while. So glad I got to meet you face to face at the conference last weekend. :)
Loved reading your piece on (in)courage today Ashley! Thankful for this amazing writers conference just past, and so grateful for this Retreat that’s in store for you…it seems so rightly placed and timed in the scheme of things! (Imagine that! :) ) For the myriad ways you remind us of the Creator’s providence, thank you, you dear girl! xxoo
Thank you, Mama. :) So glad for the timing of both these gifts…and for you.
Ashley I read at Incourage and found it so beautiful. So filled with hope and trust and your beautiful story, but it sounds like pieces of lots of our beautiful stories. And oh how i wish I were going to Nebraska. I trust God’s timing and I trust his plan for crossing paths with my writer blogger friend. And oh what a glorious day. Thank you for doing what you are doing. And doing it so grace-filled -ly and beautifully. Always.
Elizabeth, thank you, as always, for your love and encouragement! It always feels so good to know I’m not alone. I, too, am trusting in the someday plan for us meeting…what a great day that will be.
Just read your post on (in)Courage. It was beautiful, and nice to know someone understands the waiting.
I sure do, Sarah. Thank you for coming to visit me here, as well. It’s great to “meet” you.
I am one reaping the blessings of your response to God’s urging you to write. I am drawn to your writing and inspired by your words. I am praying for you as you dream . . . and wait . . . and write of it all.
Thank you, Deb. What a gift that is — as you are.
ash…friend. so honored to call you that. i think of all your buddies sitting in a circle…i think we all knew that when you answered that whisper to share your writing with us….that our God was going to fly you places you never imagined….on His wings. you have been so obedient and shared His beauty in your life. Jesus is all over your life and your beautiful words. this adventure of yours is fun to watch.
Oh honey, I am truly grateful for you in my life. For all the ways you tell me I can. I am thankful to be on this journey together. God is doing good things.