Author Archives: Sarah McElrath
Quarantine Book Talk: Three Times Lucky
Must Have Character – Design, Describe, Develop
I was asked to present a session on Character to a bunch of writers. What I found out is… it is really hard to separate character from plot, dialogue, and all the rest. I think maybe I overwhelmed them a bit. Should have pared it back a little. Still, I found it really helpful for me to distill the information I’ve learned and read over the years.
Brokenness and Joy
I came across this awesome Brainpickings article talking about Anne Lamott’s (one of my favorite writers!) thoughts on the relationship between brokenness and joy. Given that the world and all of us in it are broken, I think this article a super important read–because who doesn’t want to be joyful?
Day 40 – Poetry for Lent
Hope Soars
Hard to believe the sun still shines
with you sealed in a tomb
people go about their business
dawn comes and the world turns
sending the sun sliding down
past the horizon
And it all seems wrong.
Hopelessness is a heavy weight
we've carried these last couple days
when little over a week ago
we followed you in
a triumphal entry
a celebration of the Messiah
Where did it go wrong?
Morning comes early
for sleepless sleepers
on this third day
the last task waits
the anointing of His body
a bittersweet final goodbye
but the stone rolled away
signals something wrong.
Why do you look for the living
among the dead, proclaim
men who gleam like lightning
He is not here for
He has risen!
And what was wrong
becomes right
Hope soars
Day 39 – Poetry for Lent
Shepard
Gentle hands
red and rough
knuckles bent and swollen
He calls each sheep
by name, whispering
courage to skittish ones
gentling those who bite and fight
seeking sheep who wander
driving away predators
healing the wounded
feeding the hungry
Through cold, rain
blazing sun
through storms and drought
He pursues the lost
calling each by name
not giving up
tracking them down
to bring each one safely
home.
Day 38 – Poetry for Lent
What A Poem Couldn’t Capture
I tried to write a poem
but words couldn't capture
a friendship that runs through
my life, spills over the edges
into the cracks
day into night
work into weekend
winter into summer
day into month into years.
A poem couldn't contain
the laughter echoing from
an oil change station
it couldn't soak up the
funeral home tears, couldn't color
disappointments and joys in job,
family, relationships, or in ourselves.
A little thing like a poem couldn't begin
to describe the mooring strength
of a friendship that's always there--
a phone call, visit, text away.
How could a poem demonstrate
that safe harbor relief found in
a friendship where pretense isn't necessary;
where there's no judgement for being
the leaky rowboat instead of
the sleek private yacht?
Nope, no way could a poem
display how friendship strings light and
dark moments together into a
rich and lustrous life.
Day 37 – Poetry for Lent
Ordinary Miracle
The silver night sky
hints at a new day dawning
what a miracle
Day 36 – Poems for Lent
Hope Ravels
Unraveling
Disintegrating
slow but sure
Coming apart at the seams
We neglect
leave it out in the rain
and watch it dissolve
a little
more
with every harsh word
sense of self
erodes
Wave over the beach
washing away our sandcastle
Bit
by bit
the silence tears our spirits
Catching a strand here
loosening a piece there
Winds of disagreement and strife
crumble our
edges
Widen the cracks
hastening the disintegration
Hope is starting to r
a
v
e
l
on the edges
Do you cut it off
or
w i nd it in?
Is it easier
to pick apart strands already torn?
Or are we able to see
beyond frayed hems
enough to weave us back together?
Do we build or do we tear d
o
w
n?
Can I
rebraid my life with yours
to make it stronger?
Or do you prefer to
stay apart?
L o o s e ning
more
with every storm
that comes our way?
Day 35 – Poetry for Lent
A Fickle Lot
Palm branches waving
cloaks spread upon the road
they welcomed him with
loud Hosannas
blessing his name
with shouts of joy
as he rode in upon
a gentle donkey.
Accusations flying
false testimony given before the judge
they accused him with
loud shouts
cursing his name
with calls for crucifixion
as he stood in silence
on his own.
Thus it is that
we go from a party
to a funeral
all within a week.