Our of Haiku Land

Does anyone but me use the “Notes” app on his/her phone? I use mine all the time! In fact, as I write these words tonight, I have 459 notes sitting on my phone…and they go back to June 2016 when I first upgraded my phone from a dumb phone to a smart phone. I have a few lists, some sermon notes, a couple of vacation logs, some documents, a couple of rough drafts of speeches, some regular poems, and a lot of haiku. A. LOT. OF. HAIKU.

I wandered into Haiku Land in 2016 when the pastor of my church rather abruptly resigned. I understood the resignation but it was still very hard and the only thing I knew to do was to write through it…only…all that came out was haiku. For the most part, it stayed that way for three years. I’d try to write. It’d come out 5-7-5. I’d put it in a note on my phone. I’d move on.

For almost thirty years, I’ve written my songs and poems into blank books that friends have given me along the way. Before computer/phone-writing became the norm, I jotted down poems on yellow pads of paper, scratch paper, napkins, offering envelopes, or anything that was available when inspiration struck. I then gathered and compiled all of the poems so I’d have a chronological record of my life through poetry. I’m about three years behind on updating my books. Can you guess why? Because all of the poems, the haiku really, are sitting happily dated in the Notes app on my phone.

Yesterday, I started retrieving the poems from the last three years of my life so that I can edit them and write them into my books. While I realize that the handwritten compilation isn’t as important as it once was, I still want to complete the process. I want to have evidence of how my handwriting has changed—and boy has it changed over the years! I want to remember the times and events that brought forth the words. I want to see how I’ve grown and how I’ve stayed the same. I want to remember and be grateful. I want to remember and mourn. I want to slow down and go back to the basics of pen and paper. Everything is so fast these days—so instant. Sometimes, I think, it’s good to go back and do things the old way. Sometimes, I think, it’s good to slow down.

I’m happy to report that I have recently walked out of Haiku Land and that I’ve been able to write a few things that aren’t haiku. I thought I’d share some of those writings here tonight…and a couple of haiku, as well. I thank the note feature on my phone for capturing these words. And I ask you: What is something you need to slow down to do? Maybe you need to write a poem, too.

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Sometimes, my mind spins
Out of control until I
Speak aloud Just stop

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We carry invisible monsters every day.
Mine is in my gut, a deep down shame.
Yours may be in your head, a whirlwind of damning thought.
When we’re fortunate, our monsters sleep.
They lie dormant, in repose,
Content with the spoils of their last feed.
When we’re not so fortunate, our monsters rage.
They rise up with vengeance,
Determined to wreak havoc and stop at nothing less than blood.
But we don’t have to give it to them--
Not anymore.
Our monsters don’t like compassion.
Brave welcome and forgiveness are their kryptonite.
Hand over hand, strengths over weaknesses,
Open acceptance stops fingers from clawing and blades from slicing.
Our monsters have met their match:
Monsters cannot thrive in the light of Love.

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Help me focus, God,
On the things that must be done
Calm everything else

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Lay your head on my shoulder, friend,
And I will silently pray
For the screaming to be quieted,
the racing thoughts to slow their pace,
God’s still small voice to be louder than any other,
structure and order to click into place.
Lay your head on my shoulder, friend,
And I will silently pray
Peace unto you.
Peace fill your mind,
Peace fill your heart,
Peace wash over your people.
Peace...
Peace...
Peace...

It's Time To Start Writing Again

For the past few weeks, I’ve had the privilege of worshipping with someone whom I’ve considered a mentor for many years. Mrs. Kathy is not only an elementary music teacher but also the minister of music at a local church, and she is the music teacher and minister that I strive to be. I admire her talent, her spirit, her humility, her shoes, and her heart for God…so to have the opportunity to make music with and learn from her has been an absolute privilege.

Yesterday, on a very rare Sunday, Mrs. Kathy was out of town. She trusted me to lead worship for her, and I’m so glad that she did. Yesterday’s sermon really spoke to me. Yesterday’s sermon is why I’m writing this note today.

The pastor said, “There are some of you here today who need to stop something. There are others of you who need to start something. Whatever it is that you need to stop or start, you need to do it right now.”

Well, friends. I was the “some of you” that fit into both categories. I needed to stop making excuses and start writing again—not for fame or fortune—but for me—for you—for anyone who might read whatever it is that pours from the fingers of my heart.

For years, I wrote every Monday and Thursday. No matter where I was. No matter what I was doing. No matter if I had internet access or not. I wrote. It was a discipline. And it left me with page upon page of stories, memories, struggles, and joys that I otherwise would have forgotten. But then I started graduate school and my writing fell out of rhythm. And that was two years ago.

There is no good reason that I didn’t start writing again after I finished my degree. I’ve thought about it many times—more times than I care to admit. I’ve convinced myself of the merits of the discipline and supported others who have desired to write. I just haven’t made myself sit down and write…because…well…I haven’t felt like I’ve had anything to say.

About a year ago, I first heard a song called “Fear Is A Liar.” I cried. Fear is liar and it had—has—been lying to me for a long time. I’ve overcome some of fear’s lies, but other lies still hold me in their clutch—like the lie that I have nothing to say. Everyone has something to say. Everyone has a story. And everyone’s story connects to everyone else’s story in some way because we are all on this human journey together. And yet…fear lies.

It’s time for me to stop believing fear’s lies—at least about my writing…and about one more thing:

I love to lead worship. I am so grateful that Mrs. Kathy has seen this truth in me and given me an opportunity to play alongside her. I love to lead retreats. I love to help with camps. I love being “Deanna Deaton, Retreat and Worship Leader,” and I want to be that person again. She has been hiding for years. The fears of not being good enough—of being seen but misunderstood—of being rejected—of being told that I am inferior because I am a woman—have kept me from pursuing that which I love the most: Writing. Leading. Music. Personality type. Love languages. Worship. Spiritual Formation.

I don’t know what God is nudging you to stop or start, friends—although I imagine that there is something--but as for me, God is nudging me to release my grip on these damning fears once and for all. It’s time to stop believing the lies, friends. It’s time to start writing again—not for fame or fortune—but for me—for God—for you—for anyone who might read whatever pours from the fingers of our hearts.

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Fear Is a Liar by Zach Williams

When he told you you're not good enough
When he told you you're not right
When he told you you're not strong enough
To put up a good fight

When he told you you're not worthy
When he told you you're not loved
When he told you you're not beautiful
That you'll never be enough

When he told you were troubled
You'll forever be alone
When he told you you should run away
You'll never find a home
When he told you you were dirty
And you should be ashamed
When he told you you could be the one
That grace could never change

Fear, he is a liar
He will take your breath
Stop you in your steps
Fear he is a liar
He will rob your rest
Steal your happiness
Cast your fear in the fire
'Cause fear he is a liar

Let Your fire fall and cast out all my fears
Let Your fire fall Your love is all I feel…