Resurrection
Dear Reader,
I have missed you. The twin sisters of winter, Cold and Darkness, sneaked up on me last December with their claws. They sank their hooks into my head and back, two of their favorite locations, then hung on until snowmelt. I was low down under their poison charms, but on resurrection morning they both lost their grip and fled. Now I find myself emerging, like a crocus from the ground, renewed with hope, a participant in the rising fragrance of spring.
Over the Good Friday to Easter weekend, I felt empowered, as if from beyond. (Many writers and artists describe such a phenomenon, but it’s not common.) A passion came upon me, and I wrote two heartfelt poems about events from my life, transcendent moments that I was previously unwilling to share with others. I’m still not ready to post the poems, but I’ve put the stories on paper—in rhyme—and will release them in due time.
How shall I describe such an outpouring of inspiration when it comes upon me? It is not the mania of bipolar disorder—I’m of a sound mind. It’s more like being caught in a mighty wind, lifted, and carried to an appointed place, and set there with a purpose. When I arrive there, I write with a blue pen on old-fashioned white paper, until I sense I’ve reached completion, or however long the creative power remains.
Why do such things happen? Why do they come when they do? Good Friday to Easter morning.
Is there resurrection beyond the grave? If there is—if one man from Bethlehem in Judea said he would die and rise again, and then did it—then all our other questions pale by comparison.
My father, J. Michael Thompson, was an English teacher, an athlete, a mentor to many, and a Christian. I wrote a 500-word essay in his memory which was published this week in The Habit Portfolio. In the essay, I changed his name for literary effect, but you’ll know who I’m talking about.
I’m glad my first proper publication at this stage of my writing career was about J.M.T. and came right after Easter. My father believed in the resurrection from the dead and the hope of everlasting life through faith in Jesus.
If you knew my father and he impacted you, please leave a memory or two so that I may collect them and arrange them in a most fitting way.
Thank you,
TAT
Be sure to check out my most recent publication on The Habit Portfolio: The Ink and the Inkling
If you liked this post, please send it to a friend. If the reading audience grows, agents and publishers become suddenly far more keen on joining in the Adventures of TAT!
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4 responses to “Resurrection”
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TAT I remember those bus trips to Canada well with you and MJT. Love the pics and the Ink and the Inkling. Memories are the foundation that motivates us to keep moving forward and to keep making indelible imprints on others!
Those were good trips. You may recall that my younger brother, Chad, didn’t care so much for Shakespearean plays. My dad paid dearly for his expensive tickets to watch “Othello” or “Richard II,” but my brother would squirm in his seat and say, “Dad, this is just like church.” 🙂
Lovely post, Troy. I feel the lightness of spring hope returning it me as well. Inspiration for writing is such a perfect Easter gift!!