Tag: writing

As we grieve, a thoughtful and thought-provoking poem

After Silas’s and Marie’s deaths April 4 and 15, my daughter Rachel wrote this poem on her birthday. Read all the way to the end.

Eaten

By Rachel Kornfield Becker

In memory of Silas, Marie and all of us who know we are aging – and the beloved community

April 19, 2026

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time 

I fight 

Wishing to eke a little more purpose, a little more meaning

A little more chance to atone for my mistakes

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time

I thrash

Wishing for a younger body 

With less discomfort and 

An easier pathway of care

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time

I flail

Not knowing how long it will take

For it to reach my heart 

How long i still have to tell you goodbye

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time

I panic 

Wishing to know what they’ll say about me someday 

Remembering, unexpectedly

I’m beloved

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time

I remember

That like many before me

In the end I’ll be lauded as an example for my goodness

Instead of reviled for my mistakes

Although a very different story could be told

I’m slowly being eaten? by the monster of time

I reach

Perhaps through acceptance

Can come a measure of peace

Yet it vanishes before me

Through a misty dark tunnel

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster? of time

I look

Closer 

I see warm, honoring eyes

A friend with a hand held out 

Saying, “see, come, this way”

I’m slowly being… eaten? by the monster? of time

I gaze

Again down the tunnel

Seeing peace go before me

Making the path… Visible 

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time?

I notice

Where peace has gone

And that perhaps only through the cold clingy cobwebby mist 

Will I find it’s full fruition 

I’m slowly being eaten by the monster of time

I liberate 

I will make so many mistakes

But in the end they will say

She loved deeply

She lived with passion 

She figured a couple things out 

She kept going

And most of all, “she loved me”

And it will be true

I’m slowly taking the hand of my friend Time 

I clutch

My only pathway 

My solace

My old enemy 

I cling

I hope

I’m slowly accepting the guidance of time

I know to live 

Is to live within its grasp

For all things end

But some things end well

But the Holy Spirit’s power gives us confidence

Romans 15:1-5, 13 We must not just please ourselves. We should help others do what is right and build them up in the Lord. For even Christ didn’t live to please himself … May God help you live in complete harmony with each other, as is fitting for followers of Christ Jesus. … I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.

When I was eleven and in the U.S. on furlough from Guatemala, our family visited my grandmother in Liberal, western Kansas. My sister Marsha and I slept on the floor of Grammy’s office. We noticed a row of boxes on the bottom shelf of her bookcase, the kind paper came in back then. Curious, we peeked inside one of them, and then the others. Each contained a neatly typed book manuscript. Every night after we were sent to bed, Marsha and I muffled our gasps and giggles over Grammy’s romantic novels, carefully keeping the pages and boxes in order. We loved her stories, even though we never ‘fessed up about our nocturnal invasion of her privacy.

Shutterstock: mpaniti

I have no idea what became of those works after Grammy died. No relatives I asked knew anything about them. I suspect whoever cleaned out her house simply through her delightful work away. How sad.

My proposal for Book One of the Cally and Charlie series, Horse Thief 1898 (see https://horsethief1898.blog) has been turned down by forty literary agents. Why? Because I don’t have an adequate platform. What does that mean? It means, for starters, I don’t have at least ten thousand followers on at least two social media platforms and on my blogs. It means I can’t guarantee selling ten thousand books myself, through speaking, writing, and book signing events, thus recouping the costs to a publisher of taking a chance on my books in a very crowded market.

Not confidence-producing, right? So, what do I do with my conviction that God wants me to write these books? Turns out, most writers I know believe that’s true for them as well. So it doesn’t mean much in the publishing industry, but it still means a lot to us.

I’ve cycled through many different ways to think and feel about this situation. About the countless hours I’ve invested in research and writing about Cally and Charlie. Oddly enough, since I’ve given up my quest for a literary agent, and plunged back into Book Two, Treasure Hunt 1904, I feel energized and hopeful again. I feel like I’m doing what God has gifted and directed me to do. I’m trusting God to show me a step at a time how to walk forward into self-publishing Horse Thief 1898 and subsequently Treasure Hunt and Facing the Faeries. We have so many more options available now than Grammy had in the 1950s and 60s.

The number of books being published these days is overwhelming. Even so, we writers keep on writing more. Like Eric Liddell, we can each say, “When I write, I feel God’s pleasure.” Though her work wasn’t known outside her small office, I suspect my Grammy felt the same way.

So I’m curious. In what ways does the Holy Spirit give you confidence and hope in the work he’s called you to do?