I just returned from the Writing for the Soul Writer’s Conference in Colorado Springs, Colorado. What a motivating, encouraging, and invigorating conference! One of the greatest things I love about this conference is that I walk away refueled in ways that go beyond my writing career.

I attended McNair Wilson’s workshops and continuing classes on Creativity and Brainstorming. He is an author, actor, playwright, and humorist who challenges the status quo like no other. Shortly after I finished an appointment with an editor, I walked into his next session that had already begun.

“Is anyone in here still writing with a ball point pen?” He blurted. “Stop! Grab one of these markers up here — you’ll take better notes.”

A bit confused, I grabbed a marker wondering how I would take a cornucopia of notes in my outline with a thicker tip than my ball point pen. In mid-sentence, my notes went from small blue type font, to a larger teal imprint. At the next break, I went up and asked McNair the purpose of the marker.

“If you do the same thing the same way every time, you will see the same thing. To tap into your creativity, do it differently.”

I shared with him how my very creative daughter does her homework in colors, but I never understood why. To me, her math homework appeared messy and hard to read with the variety of colored markers. Social Studies and Language Arts reports came filled with various colored computer fonts and pictures. Everything comes with color and pictures.

“Of course it is. That is how her mind thinks.” McNair said.

I now understand. My daughter’s creativity flows into everything she does. Unintentionally, I had encouraged her to conform instead of tap into her natural creativity.

I took notes the rest of the conference in my teal-colored marker. When I filled up the page, I continued in the notepad they provided. By the end of the conference, I was determined to get a whole set of colored markers for myself.

When I got home, I showed my daughter my colored notes.

“Where did you get that cool marker?” she asked.

“McNair Wilson gave it to me.” I said. “I’m going to go buy a whole set for myself.”

She smiled.

As parents, it is so easy to encourage our children to conform. Without realizing it, we can zap their imagination and squelch their originality.

I know that isn’t what I desire to do. God has gifted my daughter in ways beyond my imagination. I want to encourage her to live out her God-given inspiration. So, I’m stepping out of my black and white routine and choosing to live in color!

My colored markers are just the beginning …

Laughter is contagious. Ever notice when someone is laughing hysterically, you can’t help but join in?

In college, in the midst of a big laughing fit, I instinctively began to wave my hand in front of my face like a fan. I’m not sure why … whether I thought it would give me needed air or what, but back then laughter and waving went hand-in-hand. These oddities made everyone laugh harder, which created further waving from me.

I somehow outgrew my waving instincts, but not my desire to laugh. The sound of my laughter is one hard to ignore — it’s loud and perhaps to some, rather obnoxious. I just figure I’m expelling unwanted stress with each thunderous hoot. 

In the midst of busyness, a challenging situation, or stress, laughter has the ability to change our drab outlook. Unfortunately, the first to disappear in such times, is fun and laughter.

I’ve been known to let my goofy side shine under such stress-filled days. One of my specialties is to put on music and dance in no apparent style — just having fun. After the initial expected embarrassment by my daughter, she joins in while my husband sits on the couch and laughs at his two wacky women. Before long, laughter and fun fill our home and the cares of the day dissipate.

When did we last cut loose, have fun, and laugh? Maybe it’s time to let your goofy side shine!

A laugh is a smile that bursts.  ~Mary H. Waldrip

Winter is finally here! It seemed like it would never come and Fall took up permanent residence. But Saturday evening, it snowed. Snow is the physical marking for me that winter finally arrived. We frantically raked up the plethora of leaves that blanketed our property knowing that snow was on its way that night.

As the last leaf was dropped into the bag, it began to snow. Perfect timing. Our daughter went running outside and tried to catch snowflakes on her tongue. She brought our puppy out to see her first snowfall — however, I do not think the dog was impressed.

The next morning, the idea of winter settled in nicely. I opened the blinds, and the scene before me brought a smile to my face — SNOW! Snow on the trees. Snow on the ground. Snow on the roads. SNOW!

I’m not sure what it is about the morning after an evening snowfall, but it feels so calming to me. It makes me want to snuggle in a blanket, start a fire, drink hot apple cider, and read a good book. Fresh snow means people slow down — I like that! Fresh snow means people stay in more rather than continue with their busy lives — I welcome that!

So this morning, I sit listening to my mellow Christmas music, watch my candles flicker, look out my window at the quilted covering over the ground and read a section of my bible. It’s a peaceful morning. In the midst of such hustle and bustle of the season, a morning like this is refreshing.

As I pondered the passage in the Bible I read, I thought about situations in my life where God feels silent and asked myself if I believe God could come through. It wasn’t a matter of if He could, but would He in the timing I prefer?

Isn’t that so often how we think? We focus on the when. The people of Israel waited hundreds of years for the promised Messiah. I’m sure there were many times they questioned whether it would ever come and many undoubtedly settled into the idea that God’s silence was taking up permanent residence.

But God never reneges on His promises. His timing was perfect. He sent the promised Messiah at just the right time. The excitement that stirred among everyone at that time had to be exhilarating. I’m sure some exited their homes to witness the star in the sky shining so brightly — the long awaited Savior was born! What a peace must have filled their hearts the next morning, knowing that Jesus was finally born.

The difference with my morning-after-snowfall feeling and Jesus’s birth, is that my snow melts at some point. God’s peace is everlasting!