faith – Laurie Apgar Chandler

Embracing hope

Chipmunk (2)

Wow, do I even remember how to write a blog post? I discover that I’m a little rusty on the logistics – navigating WordPress, ensuring the post stays in draft form until I’m ready to publish, transferring photos from my fancy new iPhone XR, but I figure it out.

All these months, I have been “blogging,” but just in my mind. A thought comes, perhaps I even jot a few notes, or snap a picture, but that is all. Always, I search for the perfect block of time, the most creative frame of mind, a window where blogging will not keep me from finishing my almost-finished book.

March 23rd is a new day.

Yesterday was the 11th anniversary of the loss of my husband Chris. Today is the 11th anniversary of forging onward, of choosing hope, of the start of a new life that has brought unanticipated blessings. In the Bible’s King James Version, Hebrews 11:1 reads,

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Thanks to a conversation with a reader at one of my author events last year, this quote opens chapter 9 of the new book. I love the process of searching for quotes, a mosaic of words that both touch me and add depth to my writing. In chapter 9, a chance encounter at Stair Falls on the Penobscot River’s East Branch introduces two new characters who become, for me, evidence of faith fulfilled.

This day, as we embark on uncharted waters, as I did 11 years ago, let us choose hope.

Let us intentionally search for it in the everyday life that continues to surround us. I will look most fervently in nature, where yesterday I took refuge in a sheltered nook, silent, warmed by the spring sun’s rays. Focusing on gratitude replacing fear, I shut my eyes until I heard a scurry of dry, papery leaves. A chipmunk sprang up on the old stone wall. Alert, vibrant in the glow of the afternoon sun, which shone pink through his tiny ears.

I had found my hope for another day. May you find it, too. In conversation with a friend. In freshly baked bread, enduring music, well-stacked firewood, or garden plans. In a news story of teachers sewing masks at home. Embrace hope, my friends, and take care!

On Eagles’ Wings

Those that hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary. Isaiah 40:31

58 - Sunrise on Dead River — Another promising morning on the Dead River during 2011’s Paddle for Hope

Today we will gather to officially celebrate the book launch and continue the encouraging start that Upwards has had. This is a day that I’ve been anticipating for months. It would be natural to be focusing on the refreshments and slideshow and whether we have enough pennies and nickels to make change for $18.94.

This morning, though, I want to think of eagles’ wings, not book sales numbers. To remember why I felt such a pull to write and how long I agonized over how much of myself and my faith to share in what is, at heart, an adventure tale.

The dawn has been arriving a bit later every day, but when it was light this morning, I walked down to nearby Webber Pond. Thinking about this day, it seemed like the summit of a high peak, for so long hidden by clouds. If not for my hope in God, that peak might still be shrouded in mist. I might never have reached it.

Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. I had hoped and found the strength I needed – to brave escaped convicts and insane stretches of upstream whitewater. I had learned to be more flexible, to try to forgive myself when things didn’t go according to plan, on the water and with the book. I had believed in a dream enough, just enough, to reach the summit. So thank you, God, for walking (and paddling) with me.

In time of sorrow…may you see God’s light on the path ahead

When the road you walk is dark,

May you always hear, even in your hour of sorrow,

The gentle singing of the lark.

When times are hard may hardness never turn your heart to stone—

May you always remember when the shadows fall—

You do not walk alone.

A Celtic blessing, from the Upwards epilogue

God in Nature’s Song, a poem

Oh, how I long for spring. Every inch of brown and muddy earth seems a victory, wrestled back from the tenacious hold of winter. The mud may suck and clutch at the soles of my wellies, but at least it isn’t frozen, at least not on the sunny afternoons. I will ignore today’s weather forecast, which shows snow of varying amounts on five upcoming days!

I’m back on the lake for a time, caring for my dog and cat friends. Here I will watch the ice as its character changes, until finally it will be gone. The kayak rides promisingly on top of my RAV4. Paddles, PFD, seat, are all handy in the back. It won’t be long.

While we’re waiting, here’s a poem I wrote on another early spring morning…

God in Nature’s Song

Tendrils of rosy mist swirl in tantalizing morning dance,

as God hints,

Beech leaves rattle, delicately breaking winter’s icy silence,

as God whispers,

Spires of deepest feathery green climb the endless azure sky,

as God beckons,

Raindrops drop a gentle soothing patter on an unnamed lake,

as God sympathizes,

Lady slippers shyly bow, delicately framed in darkest brown,

as God rejoices,

And those who truly listen, pause in understanding wonder,

as God speaks.

Inspired by Romans 1:20 – Ever since the creation of the world his eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made.