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Northwestern Christian Writers Online Conference Speaker

St. Paul, MN

Date: July 24 - July 25

marydemuth

Beautiful day in Bassano del Grappa. The sun snuck

Beautiful day in Bassano del Grappa. The sun snuck out from behind foreboding clouds. Perfect Italian experience. (Yes, I had pasta).

My luggage has been lost for two days, and normall

My luggage has been lost for two days, and normally I wouldn’t worry that much about it, but last night I realized that my journal was in that suitcase. And I started to mourn.

So much of my life has been poured out this year on the pages of that book. So much processing. So much prayer. So much wrestling and wrangling with what has befallen my husband Patrick and me. I would have really been sad to no longer have that history of the year.

So when the front desk person knocked on my door this morning, I gasped and laughed and thanked him. What a joy! I felt like the lady in the gospels who had lost her coin, only to find it and rejoice exceedingly.

My journal is back in my hands (along with some chocolate, which is always nice). And I don’t have to wash my clothes in the sink :).

While flying from Geneva to Venice, I prayed, aski

While flying from Geneva to Venice, I prayed, asking God why he didn’t do the usual maintenance on me in Switzerland. Usually, the dross of the year falls away as I walk the picturesque foothills of the Jura mountains, or as writers pray for me. But this time, while it was a fruitful experience, I could not find the solace I needed.

I sensed God saying to me, “You can’t heal from grief in a location of grief.” And it made sense to me.

Switzerland has been my joyful respite, a comma in a run-on sentence of my life. But a shifting of things at the locale had made my happy place more a location of ambiguity. New grief lived there. And in the midst of that grief, I could not find a healing foothold.

It’s the same for us all. We have a hard time healing if we are still in a physical location of grief. The problem for me is that when I am home, I am reminded of the grief of church hurt. The whole town seems to be circling around my former church.

The solution?

I’m not sure, but it must involve creating a safe haven where I am. Perhaps that’s helpful for you, too.

It’s like an open wound that keeps festering. You must first bandage that wound so that contaminants cannot infiltrate the wound. You have to separate the wound from the environment. And then when it’s healed, it can interact again with the air.

To heal, friend, seek a safe place. As in my case (and I assume this may be true for you), that safe place might not be evident, or it may be so obvious that it’s right in front of you.

If I were to guess today, my safe place is actually people: my husband, children, and my group of friends.

May you find yours again.

Such a privilege to teach this morning at an Army

Such a privilege to teach this morning at an Army base Protestant service in northern Italy. I shared a bit of my story, exegeted a part of an epistle, felt the leading of the Holy Spirit, and prayed for the amazing image bearers in attendance.

Thank YOU for praying as well. Your prayers are oxygen for me.

The most personally convicting part of the message for me was the reminder to return to my first Love. Jesus, I do love you so much. Even amid a trying year.

When in Italy…

When in Italy…

The second week advanced intensive is finished! Wh

The second week advanced intensive is finished! What a privilege to teach each of these talented writers. @ywam_burtigny (plus a few friend pics thrown in).

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