Author: James Hogan

On the Porch

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It is at times like this that I wish my pen wrote with richer ink. It is a sad thing that so often does my mind take flight and dream on the sublime in the moments when the cares of life swoop in and remind me of other more meaningful tasks on which I really ought spend my time. Of course yes, it would be lovely to write. But shouldn’t you start dinner prep? The carrots and potatoes will not chop themselves, oh no. And what is that you say? You have a poem running through your mind that you’d like to put down to page? Well, I hope you have a decent enough memory, for now it’s time to take the car to the shop and take care of that nagging issue you’ve neglected for far too long. Why is it that the time which then presents itself finally for a creative purpose is then taken up by conversations with loved ones? Of course they are far more important than the words you wish to enshrine in this moment for eternity. Aren’t they? One can acknowledge the truths of which I’ve said above, but still the heart weeps for the lost moments. But are they lost? The moments of life, of chopping vegetables on the cutting board, of driving a creaking vehicle through the quiet autumnal beauty of the late afternoon, of laughing as your sister tells you of the absurdity of her day – are not all these the precious sands upon the shores that your feet walk day to day as you breathe deep this salt air and look to the brilliant blue of heaven? I would argue that to hunker down and bunker oneself in that longed for cottage on the English coast in order to write your magnum opus would in fact be a cutting off of self and denying those little moments that thrill the soul even if in the moment they seem just the same old same old ordinary ticks on the calendar that seems to never get any less full. A foundation has been laid and now the bricks are being laid on quietly but surely. These bricks are laid with care and each one lovingly put in its proper place. Without such bricks, what is the setting but a cold marble portico upon which a banquet of plastic dreams is cunningly set forth? No I shall not abandon this simple life. I will keep on laying brick after humble brick.

Still yet. Can we not find rich beauty in these small mundane moments? I would argue so, even now as I wait for my love to walk back through this door and cheer me with her voice this quiet November night.

Crêperie

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This evening comes at the end of a long day. A long day, which sounds like I may be complaining but be assured that is not the case. This is a day which has been long but full and I cannot refrain from praising my God who has poured out so many blessings upon my house! I shall not chronicle all the details, but I did not want the moment to pass this night without my looking to heaven in gratitude for my God who is and my God who does mighty works, even some for one as insignificant as I. And now I sit on the couch and rest. A roast chicken dinner (complete with potatoes, carrots, onions of course) is in the oven cooking away and in a bit it shall be dinner time. But now, I luxuriate in a few minutes in which there is nothing to do save sit and open a book and listen to some of my favourite classical music and thank my God for his saving grace that he has granted me. Be at peace my friends this night. Peace and love, always.

Grafted

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I walk down the lamplit path and wonder what lies at its end. For all I know, the promises that I have clung to will in fact crumble to dust in the light that a closer perspective sheds. We shall see shall we not. But I refuse to give in to fear. I know that my boots are faded and starting to fall apart now. I know that my hair is a bit more faded and sparser than when this path my feet began to walk. Yet there is still a wonder that burns in my heart and there is still a faint taste of cinnamon on my tongue that reminds me of when I sipped the wine back at the last waystation. I hold fast to these signs that point me back to what I have believed in and forward to what lies at journey’s end. I know that the hand that picked me out of the mire that I played in so many years ago is still yet upon me, though at times the pressure seems faint and the shadows play havoc with my sight. These are the times I hum to myself songs of promise and in the darkness those hallowed lines recite. For even now in the darkness I look to my feet and see a light. I am thankful that I do not need to trust in mine own wit or valor for the aid by which I hasten on. Instead I trust in another. And this other has proven to be a trusty companion time and time again. What more can I say now? I walk forward, step by slow step my feet fall heavily upon this cobbled path. My progress is measured more slowly now, yet when I read my old notebooks I’m reminded of how much my voice has become more true. It’s a wonder, divine miracle really. I lift my voice once more in song. And as I begin to sing my favourite, I hear the voices of others join in soon enough. Thank God I am not alone on this pilgrim way. Let’s hurry on now, my brothers and my sisters. Let’s continue to faithful be. See this path does not go on forever, though so often it seems as if that may be the case. There is an ending, a slow descent when the cobbles turn to sand and the path turns down to the river that runs so merrily. I cannot promise the crossing will be entirely pleasant. It is not always. Yet look and see! On the other side, see the mountain that rises in poignant counter-harmony. I do not see it yet with these eyes but I know it’s there from what I’ve read in these manuscripts that I hold so dear. I do so long to see it but not for the grandeur of its created frame. Rather I hope to see the one walking down its slopes to meet me, the one who found me when I was alone and crying, the one who grabbed my hand and pulled me up to walk this pilgrim way. This is what I long for, to hear his voice gently call me in the way shepherds call their sheep. I will answer as I answer every day now. My Lord my Jesus be near to me. And forever and always will I be.

See How This Wind Calls to Me

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This beautiful Sunday afternoon, the wind sings and sighs outside my window and it is almost time for a gorgeous walk, says I. But first? Well let’s talk about a few of my latest books – briefly oh so briefly! – and then I shall be off, hopefully returning later this evening with some creative writing if I am so blessed with the time and desire and inspiration for such.

74. The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion – Vol. 1 by Beth Brower. Utterly delightful read. I suppose I should not be surprised. I’ve seen these talked about for the past good bit now and have had the strong feeling that I would enjoy. They chronicle the adventures (sometimes misadventures) of the titular young heroine in 19th-century London and there are simply so many things in this volume that resonate with my silly self. Emma is a book lover, a observer of the weird and the beautiful, one whose heart longs for justice and has a good ear for a delightful turn of phrase. I was pretty sure I would like reading this one, but I confess I’m a bit surprised by quite how much I enjoyed this. The author has a wonderful command of the language and I’m almost convinced it was actually written by a 20-year-old woman. Yes, the language doesn’t quite seem like it comes from someone living in the 19th century, but it’s close enough that I can set that aside. There are numerous lines in this that simply sing and there are many times in this book where I laughed or nodded along with Emma’s exuberance and/or absurdity. Let me share one line that particularly touched me – “The lamps were lit, light coming from the houses, and there walked I, alone, and not upset to be so.” Beautiful. There are a few events in this book that brought me close to sympathetic outrage and I confess that I now feel far more invested in the future ongoings of young Miss Lion’s life than I have any right to be. The characters in this one are brilliantly drawn and the emotions sharply poignant, and if one could argue that all seems a bit black and white in Emma’s eyes, well is that not the experience of youth? I am stunned by how much I loved this one. Already halfway through Vol. 2 and a bit perturbed that I do not have Vol. 3 yet sourced.

75. Scott Pilgrim’s Finest Hour by Bryan Lee O’Malley. A fine conclusion to the Scott Pilgrim saga. A book that does a marvelous job of taking us to a conclusion that feels both right and earned and I can actually chronicle that both Scott and Ramona have grown and somehow matured during the course of these adventures! I do like how well Ramona’s arc is shown in these – very different from the movie – and how she actually feels like a real person and that we actually see how well she and Scott are suited for each other! And the last few pages? Simply profound and beautiful and I do say they make me almost emotional every time I come to them. And so.

Lo She Stands at the Door and Waits

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A sigh exhaled. A busy day nearing its end. A busy day, but a good day. Now the sausage pasta cooks on the stove, music softly plays and soon a book shall be opened. Or perhaps two, we shall see. It is good to sit down and rest, then I can say for certain. I lift my prayers to heaven, I say thank you to my Lord who sits on high above. It is good to rest now. It is good to rest now and still yet know for certain that someday true and complete rest awaits. Peace and love, my friends. Peace and love.

Lights in the Deep

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A few thoughts on books this night.

72. Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson. A book that I probably should have read a long time ago. Reading it now was an interesting experience but I must confess it didn’t move me quite as much as it most likely would have way back in the day. I’ve never seen the movie either (which I suppose I should rectify?), so I had no idea what would happen in this book and I think the fuzzy knowledge I had in my head of this story led me wrong, making me believe this was some sort of portal fantasy. Nope! It’s actually very much a classic coming of age tale. And honestly, it was a bit mediocre at times. But I will say there are some absolute gem turns of phrase in this one and there are a few moments that really rock you. I was very much surprised by the ending though – came out of nowhere and I suppose that’s the point? I did appreciate the messiness of this one and despite the fact that I felt a bit underwhelmed, this book very much did have the air of the real. (Also – the only other book I’ve read by Paterson – Jacob Have I Loved – I thought was far better. Go read that one!)

73. Moon Thief by Rachel Shinnick. A delightful romp of a tale! I read this having zero idea of what I was getting into other than it looked to be a fun read. And it certainly was that, with a lot more to boot! Firstly will confess that it took me a few pages to really get into the swing of things. There were lots of characters, I had no idea of the world or what was going on and…well, I just felt I’d jumped off into the deep end. Classic issue with a new fantasy tale. But quickly enough, I got sucked in and found myself reading a bit later into the night than I originally planned. Finished this one in all of three days, being quite eager to see where this story went. One thing I’ll say – this story moves. Very little downtime, very little time to wonder what the next plot point will be. Plotty in the extreme, I at times wished for a moment to breathe and take it all in! But yes, you’re swept up in the affairs of Ilis and very quickly are as eager as she to discover the mysteries of her world and to see her quest to resolution. Lots of moments of surprise and I am a bit ashamed to confess I did not see the end twist(s) coming at all. All in all, if you want an action packed fantasy with a plucky heroine and a crazy world, this book will be for you. Some of the side characters do feel a bit tropey and/or flat at times (honestly wish we had a bit more time with said side characters!) but that’s a minor concern, especially when the story moves as fast as this one did. Simply not time to get to know all the other characters well when a story moves like this one. Also, I enjoyed seeing a few of the nods to other beloved fantasy novels (particularly some Lewis vibes, along with maybe Sanderson/Rothfuss, though that may be me reading a bit too much into certain lines).

I’ve written too much already, but a couple more notes. Fantastic world-building. Even if my brain is a bit exhausted by trying to make the physics make sense in my head (I still am very suspicious and don’t feel that it really does!), I loved the creativity in building this world and slowly revealing it to us readers. Also? Yes the plot and story is a pretty basic action/adventure but…? There are some deep and profound themes lurking underneath the surface story. I’d love to get more of these themes worked out in future books…especially the themes of trust and hope(add in love for good measure?). The author has some wonderful ideas and this story has good bones. One last? I loved all the words/writing/books elements strewn throughout the world-building of this one. Give me a good library and many literary elements and I’ll be happy.

Reminiscing

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again in the silence spirals up
a bit of smoke
does it come from the corner
where that woman stands alone
i wonder if she prays as i do now
looking up to the sky that darkens
looking up at the stars that cry
i cannot guess but i hope so
just so i’m not quite as alone as i feel
sitting on the bench in front of the
convenience store
scribbling in my notebook
breathing out prayers
in the spaces between my tears

Sweeter than I Ever Knew

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This afternoon is simply gorgeous. Previously I started to talk about life and then began to wax philosophical and then – as seems to happen of late but no complaints – my words turned to wonder and praise. Really I seem incapable of writing normal life updates these days!! But I shall write a few random words of no consequence now before I attempt to write something a bit more poetic. As said previously (go one entry down/back) I’m here on the porch at EQ enjoying a perfectly scrumptious November afternoon. It is a little cold – but not too much, as I’m just wearing a t-shirt! – and the breeze is blowing and the late afternoon light is gentle and friendly and there are many people enjoying their coffee or tea and conversations abound and I could choose to listen but I am not as I’m writing of course and then Dani sits studying soteriology with her half-finished croissant as I write about things much less weighty. I will soon turn my pen to writing about things of truth and beauty and even perhaps my thoughts of God.

A lot of my writing this past year or two (or three?!) has been fairly flighty, I know. And I would apologise but I shall not because it has been my heart and I don’t think there is anything written that I would pull back if I could. Perhaps my heart has been full to overflowing for various reasons and so of course my words have been spilling out in ways that are not always comprehensible to those who sit outside on the porch and are not quite privy to the conversations within the house. So yes, my updates have not been as newsy and perhaps have been too poetic or random to please the random reader. I shrug and sigh but I will not apologise. I am also trying to strengthen my writing muscles and continue to write both poetry and prose in the hopes that one day God would use such for a purpose more than just to fill the pages of this online space. I don’t quite know all that I wish to write and share but I do feel at times as if I have more to say. Perhaps my words will just gather dust. It is the most likely outcome of course. Yet still I write and write and if I can strengthen (or at least maintain) my skills, perhaps my God shall grant me opportunities to write something that has the air of the grand and beautiful. I pray such, if it not be too bold to ask. Of course not, for I am indeed a child of the King!

And now, I cease from writing though I cannot promise this is the last entry of the day. Now, me and Dani are off to walk a bit more to enjoy the fading light of this gorgeous November afternoon.

Reclamation

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Hello friends! It’s a Sunday afternoon and I am here sitting on the porch of EQ wondering what I shall write. Is it 2022? Well perhaps not. But I do sit here now and reflect how fascinating it is looking back through the years and realizing how many hours I’ve spent in various places (like this coffeeshop!) and how I’ve changed and grown as my God has continued to work mightily in me. Sometimes I forget such and can only see the parts of me that seem to sit stagnant and still in the light of the fall. Yet it is good to sit back and reflect and look at my life as a whole and glorify my God as I realize that I am not the same man I was even a year ago! Praise be to God for his glorious grace and the many mercies he’s poured out upon me, his undeserving child! Sometimes I look at my outward circumstances and meditate on how they may or may not have changed. Same job, check. Same (close enough) living situation. Same attire (Pascal’s t-shirt, yup!) But then I look to my right and see Dani and my heart smiles and my eyes fill. Some things are not quite the same after all.

It is all too easy to let our hearts linger over those things that bring us anxiety and pain. And we cannot deny that there is sadness and suffering in this world and even in my heart, a reality that I am all too familiar with. But does the existence of such mean there is not also beauty, that perfection is necessarily impossible in this existence in which we find our minds moving? I would say not, though there are philosophical frameworks which would assert such. Instead, I would point out that the presence of an ill thing does not imply the impossibility of a good. Instead, the very fact that we recognize something as wrong means that in our frame of knowledge we seem to believe in the possibility of something being right. But what is true? That is a good question, one which it would do one good to ponder. I believe truth is not entirely relative, that though we may be shaped and formed by the environment and the historical moment in which we now exist, still yet there are solid realities that are firmer beneath our feet than we sometimes dare to think. This world is not all shadow and dust, though there is plenty of both. Instead, I look for the glimmer of that true light that I catch at the corner of my eye. I long to rest my hand upon an oaken pillar that testifies to roots deeper than these eyes can see. What is truth? That is a good question. As for me, I believe in the existence of a God who has revealed himself to us in a written word that has been passed down these many centuries. Some would call me foolish, some would call me fraud. I simply rest in that settled conviction that within me rests the spirit of God who has in actuality changed my heart and called me to be known and loved. I do believe that not that many years ago (as we count time) God himself walked upon this earth and spoke true words and then died so that I might be no longer blind but see. My eyes do not see as far as I would like at times. But no longer do I grope forward through the clammy fog of sneering unbelief. I bow my knees and look to heaven and with tears on my face I sing praises to my God who knows my name.

Ulysses

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For this past week I have been working to find the time and space to write a few words on the concert I was at last week, yet I couldn’t summon up the time and appropriate energy to do it justice. I fear I still will not be able to, yet I don’t want to wait any longer lest my memory begin to dim! I haven’t been to as many concerts this year as in years past, which I suppose makes sense as my time and appetite for such have diminished as I refocus my energies elsewhere. Sometimes this saddens me a bit, but then I consider all the concerts I’ve been to that really are not all that worth it. Well, this past Sunday? I went to a show that reminded me why I love live music and why going to the right show is 1000% worth it. Josh Garrels, hello.

I have been listening to songs by Josh Garrels for close to ten or eleven years now, I believe? Shoutout to Daniel from back in the Bethel days, for introducing me to whom I now believe is one of the greatest and most encouraging artists of our generation. Even back in 2014-2015, I remember listening to some of his songs and feeling the tears fill my eyes as I consider what it means to be a son of God and to be welcome at His table. Being loved and welcomed by God is a theme that is fairly pounded home in many of his songs but not in a way that feels forced or unwarranted by the stories woven throughout Josh Garrels’ discography. Even these past few years, though not much new songs of his have been released, the songs he has released (Anchor of my Soul & Watchman in particular!) have been received by me with much joy as they’ve aided in my ever seeking to know Christ more and press into this abundant life that we have been welcomed into. So! That all to say I was excited to see him in concert, but also not really sure what to expect. I went alone and figured it would be encouraging (partly why Dani said I needed to go, once I told her I knew it would be an encouraging night for me!). So go I did. Met a few people before the show and had some good conversation. Then I found a seat on the front row of the balcony – yes I now much appreciate a concert while sitting down, what have I become – and settled in to enjoy the show.

After a fun opening act, Josh Garrels came to the stage and quickly I discovered this wasn’t simply to be a show. Rather, it felt almost more like a church service at times. Singing and preaching abounded! The songs were poignant and beautiful and brought emotions close to surface as I considered the love that is mine in knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. He started with “At the Table” and proceeded to play most of my favourite songs. Amazing set list. He played of course the classics – Ulysses, Farther Along, etc – but also some of my newer favourites like Steadfast and Watchman!

But honestly? As much as I loved the songs and rediscovered how amazing a good live show can be, I was almost more encouraged and my heart made full by listening to Josh bare his heart and soul between songs. At times it almost seemed as if Josh Garrels spoke as a prophet, exhorting us as Christians and believers in Christ to press in to what it means to be living in the here and now in the love of God, fully understanding and aware of the height and depths and breadth of the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord! Too often do we live as Christians in a way which almost seems to indicate that we believe all the lies this secular and faithless world attempt to persuade us are the truth. Too often do we live almost as if we don’t believe God works in this world at all. Do we actually believe that God still yet works mighty acts in this world in which we live? Do we actually believe that God came and walked upon this earth and died for us and rose again for our victory in Him, inaugurating a kingdom through his blood, a kingdom that shall know no end? Do we live in this present age understanding the power of the Spirit who lives within us, the Comforter promised and sent and resting upon our brow as holy oil anointing us as blessed ones? Do we live now walking forth each day in the triumphant and faith-filled joy that comes from being oh so aware that we are children of God? Josh Garrels talked much on such things, and on more besides and I dare say I can’t do his words justice now. But oh how wonderful it was to hear this humble man of God sing his heart out and then talk of the mercies and wonders of our Lord and point to God in whom is all our hope and joy.

I’m grateful for such a man whom God has blessed and given such creative talent. Still more? I’m grateful to hear the testimony of a man who knows that he’s washed and saved by the blood of Christ and ever dependent on Him every day for this life he lives. I’m grateful to be a part of the body of Christ and know that there are thousands of brothers and sisters who praise the God in whom I trust and that we all someday will be worshipping together before the throne. And even I walk and sing, recognizing that each day upon this earth is a day my God has given me. I thank God for the days he gives me now to serve his name and be faithful and wait for the upward call. I thank my Father for the knowledge that he has through His Spirit given me, that in my Jesus is my all in all. I long to see my Saviour’s face.