Monday, January 20, 2014

Gazette, January 2014

If we live by the Spirit, let us also walk by the Spirit. Galatians 5:25

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Editors corner

Love is this the theme of this month’s issue of the Lit Wick Gazette. Knowing that we’ve used this theme once before, and given Charity, a similar trait, a month as well (February 2013), one may rightfully question it’s presence in this issue.

We’ve decided to take a slightly different tack with this year’s volume. Every month of the year will be one of the fruits of the Spirit. Love, being the first in the list, is the first in the year. It ought also to be first in our hearts as we begin a new year. Think of the person you’re least inclined to love, and ask God to help you love them this year. As we come off of a busy holiday season, remember that Christ so loved us that he came. May our hearts fill with that knowledge, and may you discover all the opportunities God lays before you to implement His love here on earth.

Also, may we keep in mind that these are fruits of the Spirit. They are not character traits. They are not virtues. They are fruits of God’s presence in our own bodies. God is our righteousness, and anything we do was done through us by Him. This is so wonderful to us that we cannot fathom it, but in the next year, may you feel His power to bear His fruit.

A happy new year to you all!

Aelsa Butler, General Editor
Allie Hawbaker, Secretary Editor


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Verses of the Month: 

Hatred stirs up strife, But love covers all sins. 

Proverbs 10:12 


{Agatha Forsyth}


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Quote of the Month: 

Quote by C. S Lewis, from his book "the Four Loves" 


To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable. 

{Isabel Delacruz}


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Movie Review: 

Hidden Silence 

Hidden in Silence is a true story of a young lady lived in Poland as the Germans invaded the country during WW2. It is a movie filled with love and devotion to the persecuted Jews and suspense at every turn. The viewer is kept on the edge of their seat as Fusia (Kellie Martin), and her little sister rescue 

{Nora Rose}


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The Benefactor

A young widow sees the hand of God providing for her through a mysterious friend. To read earlier entries, please visit our website. 

 Six

"Hello, this is Derek, how can I help you?"
"Hi, my name is Bryn Meadows, and I'm looking to get a job on your evening shift, and curious to see if I can come in and pick up an application."
"Alright.  Which position are you looking for? We have two available, one on our nursing staff, as well as a secretarial opening."
"The latter, please." Bryn leaned back as the sound of typing keys drifted across her phone connection.
"Do you have all our qualifications?"
"I would hope so." Bryn chuckled. "A high school diploma or GED, right, with computer knowledge? That’s what the ad said."
"Actually, we need a college diploma, past hospital experience, certified typing test results, and CPR knowledge. We train for CPR, though, so if you don't have that right now, you can take our twenty-dollar, two-hour class at any point before your first day on the job. The next one is tomorrow at two."
Bryn blinked. "Wait a minute, I can get everything on that list, except past hospital experience. Is that negotiable?"
'No, ma'am, we must have proof of employment with at least one hospital for a minimum of three months in a similar position, or a Medical Secretary Certificate obtainable through the community college."
"Why?" Bryn had found her mother's warning regarding night shift jobs only too true, and was getting desperate.
"There will be medical terms involved with your job, and complete comprehension of such terms is necessary to execute the tasks probably given you by your superiors.  I’m sorry I can’t help you."
Bryn shook her head, and sighed. This wasn't the place for her. "Alright, thank you very much for your help. Have a good night." Click.
"I'm sorry, Bryn." Naomi gazed sadly at Bryn, who sat staring at her computer screen with tears gathering in her eyes. "Maybe you just need to lower your standards a little."
Flaring, Bryn shut her laptop angrily.  "Lower my standards? Do you want me to like apply at Casey's?"
Naomi made a face. "No. I would think Andrew would have been quite unhappy to have you working nights at a gas station. No. Not Casey's."
Throwing up her hands, Bryn scooted her chair back from the desk.
"I graduated from a great school, as an honors student with a degree which can be used in a million good-paying positions, and when I really need it, I can't use it, because I refuse to be gone when Josie's awake."
"I know. I'm sorry.  Stay strong, though.  I'm sure something will come up eventually, but I think you need to broaden your search for now. Try a Walmart, maybe."
"Walmart? Seriously?  Besides with those kind of jobs, making it so you don’t have to work hours you don’t want to is nearly impossible!"
Naomi shrugged. "Honey, you need a job. You need to decide what to do, but I strongly encourage you to move on for now.  If you really need to be gone for a little bit of the day every once in a while, everything will be okay.  Just cast your net."
A week passed, and Bryn ventured out into the dismal wet autumn evening as she went to a job application meeting at the local McDonald's. She slipped into an open booth, and glanced at her watch. Seeing that she was five minutes early, she turned her gaze to the parking lot. Low-hanging clouds cast never-ending shadows over the whole landscape, the puddles and drizzly fog adding a green filter to the amber street lights.
She looked up, as she heard her name.
"Bryn Meadows?"
Bryn stammered out an affirmative, surprised by the source of the voice. The young woman smiling down at her spoke gently, with mature enunciation like a professional thirty-something, yet her fresh face betrayed a high school senior.
'I'm Anne George, shift manager here. I believe you're here for a job." She slid into the bench across from Bryn. "Is that right?"
"Yes. It's nice to meet you." She opened her portfolio. "This is my resume."
Anne opened it, peeked at a page, and closed it again.
"You're a little over-credentialed, it seems. This isn't relevant to me. I can learn what I need to know by asking you questions and talking to you like a human being." Her sweet blue eyes sparked as she laughed softly. "Have you ever worked for McDonald's?"
Bryn shook her head.
"Ever been in food service anywhere?"
'Not since high school, when I worked at a local diner on weekends."
Anne nodded. "So, really, you don't know much about modern food servansan."
Bryn tilted her head, and raised her eyebrows questioningly, and Anne laughed again. It was a sweet, silvery laugh that felt as peaceful as she looked happy.
"My lingo for food service and sanitation." Bryn herself couldn't help cracking a smile.
"I see. No, I've not interacted with food, um, servansan? recently."
"What have you done before now?" Anne swept her long red bangs to the side, and adjusted her visor as Bryn smiled grimly.
"I'm a CPA, and have worked for two tax filing companies including as H&R Block."
Anne looked suddenly very interested. "You've got quite the head for numbers, it seems. So explain to me, why, with those credentials, you're applying for a night shift at McDonald's."
Anne watched sadly as Bryn cringed. "My husband died a year ago, leaving me with my infant daughter, and I don't want to put her in daycare, so my mom moved in with me to watch her nights, while I get a part-time thing to pay some bills. Problem is, the places that I could get into usually close before eight. So, for now, anyway, I'm settling for a job in fast food."
Reaching for her cell phone, Anne nodded sympathetically.
"My story is very different in some ways, but similar in others. I started here because I'm a single parent raising a kid I didn't want to let other people, well, raise." She smiled sadly. "I'm sorry to hear about your husband. When did that happen?"
Under normal circumstances, Bryn would have clammed up, suspicious of answering personal questions in a professional setting, but Anne's simple, pleasing manners put her at ease.
"A year ago. He was a Marine in Afghanistan, shot in action."
"Oh, that's awful. And you have a little girl?"
"Yes, Josie's two." Tears filled Bryn's eyes as she thought about everything.
Anne began to stand up, as though she was leaving.
"Where are you going?" Bryn asked in surprise.
"Oh, I don't need to finish this interview."
Bryn looked at the young woman in concerned surprise. "What? You can't even give me a shot?"
“Oh, yes, I'll give you more than a shot! I didn't mean that I didn't need to go any further because I don't like your potential, but because I know you'll be great for what we need. Weeknights starting at five, going till eleven, and occasionally a Saturday if we need to fill a slot. You can start on Thursday. I’ll do what I can to keep you off weekdays and Sundays, though I really can’t rule that out completely.  Sound good?"
Bryn laughed. 'Yeah, thanks! That was not what I was expecting, though. Do you usually do interviews like this?"
Anne shook her head. "No, but you're a special case."
Confusion must have made itself evident on Bryn's face, because Anne explained, almost apologetically, yet with a peaceful smile. "I've been praying for you. I'm not about to turn down an answer to prayer."
"And then she just went back to work. It was a little weird, but I start on Thursday, so I'm not complaining."
"No, contrariwise, you seem happier to have the job than I expected." Naomi observed.
Nodding, Bryn put her plate in the dishwasher. "There's something about her, Mom, that gives me such peace when I talk to her. I didn't ask for her story, but she said she has one, and her compassionate understanding of my situation made me feel like I could talk to her. I just seem to want to work with her."
Naomi smiled. "I'm so glad. I'd been praying today that God would fill you with grace, and grant you not just contentment, but excitement for this job. It seems He has."
Bryn stared at her and laughed. "Grant me contentment? Mom, I would love that kind of help, but when it comes to contentment, that's something God requires of us, not something he gives us."
Raising her eyebrows, Naomi quietly continued rinsing dishes.
"I mean, the apostle Paul says that 'I have learned, in whatever state I am, to be content.' That's something I have to learn." Then, struck with uncertainty, she added, "Right?"
Naomi cracked a slight smile.  "From my understanding of God, no. Well, you're right to a degree, but you are missing some parts of a larger picture. For example, would you say your coworker's nature has taught you contentment?"
Bryn shook her head, her mouth full with a chocolate chip cookie she'd pinched from her cookie jar.
"No, you can't, really, because it's only one situation in which you felt peace. Give you another scenario where there was no Anne, and suddenly you have un-learned contentment. You say that her gentleness helped you feel peace. Peace is a fruit of the Spirit, and the Spirit ministering to you as she talked, you were comforted. Without the peace of the Spirit, you may have felt no different, perhaps been suspicious of her winning ways, and been offended by her not wanting to look at your resume. All good physical things come from the hand of God the Father, and every spiritual good thing you will ever be able to do comes through the gift of the Holy Spirit, which most certainly includes peace and contentment. If you've been praying that God would help you do the right thing, you're halfway there. But God is so powerful, He is able to do more than help you, if you accept His offer, and submit to Him."
Bryn thought about this as she crawled into bed later that  night, and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe part of her struggles and the source of her constant anxiety grew out of an effort to do it all by herself, and she really did need to stop asking God to help her do the right thing, but rather ask Him to give her the ability to do it. What a life-changer that might be.

The next day was Bryn's birthday. Bryn herself had practically given up remembering it, sometimes treating herself and Josie to a nice meal out, but often just spending the day at home or running errands like any other day of the year.
However, something told Bryn when she woke up that morning that her birthday would turn out to be a little bit special this year. Already, the house smelled like cinnamon rolls, and the comforting aroma of rich Jamaican coffee drifted down into her room. She blinked up at the ceiling a few times, but soon whipped her blankets back and swung out of bed, slipping her feet immediately into her slippers, then wrapping herself up in her long soft bathrobe.
"It's cold out of bed." She observed to her baby, giving her rosy cheeks a little pat before dropping into a dining room chair. "But it also smells amazing! Thanks so much for making breakfast, Mom."
Naomi smiled as she served up two cinnamon rolls, and brought them to her. "You're very welcome. I wasn't about to neglect my birthday morning duties."
Laughing, Bryn accepted the plate. "That's very kind of you. I wasn't expecting you to make me breakfast just because you're here over my birthday. At twenty-six, with a daughter of my own, I figure birthdays shouldn't matter like they used to, and I should make my own breakfasts."
"Honey, twenty-six is plenty young; you can still keep your birthdays. At that age, I was still an unmarried girl living with my parents while I worked at the local military base as a switchboard girl, saving for a car." Naomi laughed. "I just about had enough when I married your dad. But anyway, birthdays are a joy to girls your age. When you're as old as I am, then you can neglect your birthdays." She sat down across from her with a steaming cup of coffee, and slipped her a card. "Happy birthday, Brynnie."
With a smile and a 'thanks!', Bryn opened it, and with surprise, found $180 in two gift cards. One was good at Kohl's and the other at JC Penney's.
"Oh, Mom! This is very generous of you! Oh, my goodness. Thank you very much!" She reached over the table and gave her mom a big hug.
"I noticed that your wardrobe could use an update, and thought you should go out this morning and spend a day getting some new things. I'll watch Josie, and you can just focus on some harmless shopping fun. You'll probably have a dress code to fill at your new job, too, so I thought you might be able to use those to help you out there, as well."
Ecstatic, Bryn grinned. She loved heading to the mall, and missed being able to shop there. 'Thanks so much! Oh! I’m so excited! Can I go like right now?"
Naomi nodded, but pointed at her plate. "I think you should eat first, though."

An hour later, and Bryn was marching around JC Penney's, snatching things off the racks and filling her cart. So far, she had a couple pairs of black slacks to try on, a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors of blue jeans, and a few different blouses. Permitting herself to take a peek at some shoes, she found a cute set of brown heels. She didn't desperately need them, but they were on sale for seven dollars from forty, so in the cart they went. She was just about ready to go try the things on when she spotted a clearance rack with some nice dresses; the kind that she loved to look at, but wasn't sure where she would ever wear them. They came in a few colors, but the ones Bryn felt drawn to were black, with pleated skirts that would hit her a couple inches below the knee. "All I would need," she thought to herself, "are some solid colored cardigans and a belt or two, and I would pretty much have Sunday outfits set to go." And so, with a hesitant glance at her cart, she added it to her pile, and entered the fitting rooms.
When she came out, her tally was ninety dollars. She only had eighty on the gift card, and she didn't really want to spend much more than that, so she sighed and put the shoes back. "Some other time." She told herself, and headed through the checkout lanes.
In Kohl's, she went deliberately toward the a rack of skirts, choosing a pencil skirt as well as a maxi skirt, then turning her attention to the display of cardigans. When she had set one of just about every available color in her cart, she walked in the general direction of the fitting rooms, but took a little detour when she saw an aisle lined with clearance clothes. As she turned to examine them, she found that they were men's clothes, but feeling adventurous, she decided to look through them briefly, anyway, she chose a spot in the mass of dress shirts, and began to rifle through them.
Suddenly, the shirts on the opposite side of the rack parted, and Bryn found herself face-to-face with Dr. Kinglet.
"Eric!" She exclaimed, startled. "What on earth?"
He laughed, and came around to her side. "Sorry. I couldn't resist."
"What a goofball!" Bryn hid her eyes with her hand for a moment, trying to recover. "What are you doing here?"
"Shopping." He gave her a look which clearly said, 'duh!', and indicated his handcart, where a belt and a tie lay, coiled up in the basket. "And you?"
"Same. I got a job, and I needed to update my closet, so mom gave me a shopping spree for my birthday."
"Oh, neat! When was your birthday?"
"It's today."
"Happy birthday! Has it been a good day so far?"
"Thanks! Yeah," Bryn smiled, "its been fun to come out here and shop."
Eric backed a little out of the aisle, but didn't make any move to leave. "You mentioned a job. Where at?"
"McDonald's. Night shift. I tried getting a job at the hospital, but they needed proof of experience in the medical field, even though I was only applying for a secretarial position, and the things I can do with my degree aren't usually open nights. So, McDonald's it is. But I think I'll get along well there; my boss seems to be a very sweet girl."
Eric nodded. "Anne George? She's a real sweetheart."
Bryn nodded, but looked at him confusedly, and he laughed.
"No worries, Bryn, I'm too old for her."
Bryn blushed. "That's not it. It's just that I was wondering how you would know her."
"Doctors go to McDonald's more than they would like to let on." Eric chuckled. "I met her a couple years ago. I don't actually know her that well, but I know her enough to like her."
"How old is she? She looks like a high-schooler."
"She practically is. I think she's nineteen, or something like that."
"Wow. I thought she looked young." Bryn glanced at her watch, saw she had a little more time, and changed the subject. "So, who won that game the other night?"
Shrugging, Eric smiled sheepishly. "I don't remember. I'm not actually into sports that much. I went to chill with my friend."
"Oh," Bryn said with an exaggerated sigh, "that's too bad! I was thinking we might enjoy watching the game with you at our house next Sunday." The words were out before she had finished thinking about saying them, and Bryn blinked as she realized what she'd done.
"Oh, I'd love to!" Eric laughed. "I'd come just to hang out with you two. What time?"
"You can come straight from church, if you'd like. We'll be ready for you. As for right now, though, I really should get going. See you then?"
Nodding, Eric backed out of her way. "Absolutely!"



Editor/Author Note: This serial is a trial run on my part. I’d love to get fellow amateur writers’ opinions on it as I experiment with the idea of completing this novel. Thank you! ~A



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Editors’ Picks: 
enjoyable and pure media both old fashioned and new 

Book: 

Curly Girl the Handbook by Lorraine Massey 

"Where there's a wave there's a curl." This book explains the ins and outs of curly hair and how to keep it hydrated and happy. Using sulfate free shampoo and plenty of conditioner the scalp is gently cleansed and the hair is hydrated so that it can be at its best.


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