NEVER SURRENDER

 

There’s a line from the movie, “Redeeming Love,” where the character Michael says to Angel:

“You didn’t choose the life you had…but you CAN choose the life you want.”

We ALL have to make that choice.

Growing up, without a proper father figure- having a distorted view of what role men would play in my life- saw me chase after a forbidden cycle of seeking love, all in the wrong places.

Time after time, I found myself going back to a place where I no longer had a right to be!

I risked my own soul, imprisoning myself into a box, where I struggled to break free out of.

I rejected any aspect of real love, in favour of the abusive kind that I had entangled myself in, since a little girl.

Pushing those away, who were genuinely caring, I clung to those that stripped me of my dignity, staining my darkened soul, with their own convoluted needs.

In writing this post, it is to take responsibility for my role, in walking myself into invisible cells… that I gave the trusted key to those, who had their own bandaged wounds, leak into mine.

At times, the guilt I have carried, has threatened to consume me with its shame.

I now understand, I have been grieving the loss of innocence, the childhood stolen from me and the little girl who was subject to horrendous role playing...only an adult should have known.

I could see the fragments of my brokenness- a reflection in the waters, I was so desperate to cleanse myself of!

Then, God blessed me with something so precious…that I was given a second chance in the life of my beloved daughter.

I would strive to protect her from the ‘monsters in the closet,’ and yet…years later, reading through the 29 journals Shayla left behind…I realized I had at times, failed her just as I had been let down.

Did I love my child beyond measure? Of course! Did I try to never surrender to my own past demons, in order to make good on my promise to love and protect her….most certainly!

Yet, as I look back at particular moments in my past, I can see where I failed my daughter miserably- and own self, in the end.

This is why my own personal, spiritual relationship with my Heavenly Father, has never been an easy one! For most of my life, I never saw myself worthy of being held by God’s loving embrace. For I simply did not know that throughout my own existence.

Then, as I escaped yet another toxic situation with a man (Colin), bent on my destruction- I realized the role I have sought so hard after- has always been there! I have a Father God, who knows the immeasurable loss of his son, Jesus and the ultimate suffering he was put through…for my sins, for the world’s transgressions.

Since my displacement last December, it now has been ½ a year I have lived- without a proper home…I have needed to dissect the broken parts of my life and see where it is that I went ‘off the rails’ and trusted the wrong person to be a part of my life.

I have also needed to acknowledge the harsh truth in that I have never felt wanted, loved or fully accepted by a man.

How could I look up in my prayers to the Lord, when I looked down so ruthlessly on my own self?

Although I wanted to be free of repeating such viscous cycles…I also yearned to be wholly loved for who I am.

What came as a surprise, was the pure love I have always sought hard after…was literally already mine!

I exist, not to be an object of lust or to fulfill someone else’s needs….NO! I exist to fulfill the purpose that God has for me.

I was also blessed with the joy of being part of something bigger than me; a role that would see my words used for healing, forgiveness and release in a pure way…in the writing of my novel: “Under the Sitka Tree.” (UTST)

Having no real sense of roots, Sitka gave me a community of people that I consider ‘family.’

For every character, reflects on someone I either have known or are a part of my present life.

Ospero Falls, was created out of love, a place where HOPE thrives, and people look out for one another.

It is my safe haven. A place where the seeds of healing have taken form and among the characters in my storyline… I EXIST.

I give thanks…Praises to a God that never left my side, nor gave up on me!

I did not have to ‘win him over’ or offer parts of me that I felt were a bargaining tool.

My faith has come with ‘no strings attached.’

It is a place of Unconditional love, patience and dignity that has been restored through the blood of the Saviour, Jesus Christ.

My sobering moment of understanding my self-worth, has come only after much suffering, sorrow and loss…all things the Lord knows well.

Recently, my formatter Leon Oldale, from Oldale Publishing worked ‘along-side’ me in going through UTST and making any revisions necessary, in order to speak the language I have always intended too.

In doing so, I came to understand how my faith has always guided me- from the darkness- into the LIGHT, with a story that is etched upon my fragile heart.

Another source of inspiration has come from Canadian Poet/author, Rupi Kaur, whose book “Homebody,” is a declaration to my soul. Her boldness to write of things unspeakable, is a testimony, to her own personal story of overcoming and resilience. 

As one season has closed and another one beginning, I continue to explore the many intricate and complex parts of my life…knowing that the shame has now shifted and replaced with an understanding that I AM WORTHY of LOVE!

God’s Love has always been engrained with me; I simply needed to reconnect with the core of the little girl, who was so eager for love… she was blinded by the distorted versions of it!

 

By TL Alton

Unwrapping the Shack Part 2 *Trigger Warnings

The thing about healing...is you have to go back to the shack. 

Paul continues to explain, “Going back to my own Shack, I am there to tear down the walls that years of abuse, deadly secrets, and the infusion of darkness had poisoned the interior.

In my discovery….I found…

That God never loved the façade at all…instead, He always loved the shack, complete with its devastation, complete with its shame, complete with its guilt, complete with it’s self-hatred and loathing. But it was ME and my heart. It was My Soul and God was in love in with me.

It was inside my own Shack that I have always been pursued and have always been embraced by relentless affection; the kindness and grace of God that is our Only hope in Jesus.

So often we’re waiting on someone else to change- before we’re willing to take the steps, to change ourselves.”

***

As I type Paul’s raw, honest words, I think of my mom…the cycle’s of chaos created within, her secrets, the poison released unto her children…built up over the years and I see her inner child, is shattered into a million little pieces so badly…they never came back together…yet the toxic environment of her own shack, affected the roots of her son and daughter, in ways that saw her shack implode, from the inside out.

This is when listening intently to the words Paul is sharing…he says…

“We’re each uniquely damaged and we’re each uniquely healed.”

 If I am to believe this, then the next generation- which I am part of- then there is Hope. Also, we are not to point fingers at those who are struggling themselves, but remember where we ourselves have been…

When you finally hit that rock bottom, it’s finally a place where you can stand, but it’s a devastatingly hard place to be.

***

Throughout the series, Paul references a C.S. Lewis Term: “God- The Grand Interferer.”

A God who is not content to sit back and let us continue in our misery, our lostness and our suffering, and our darkness and our blindness. But dives in with us and joins us in the middle with us, even when we can’t perceive his presence.

For me to be hearing this, coming through all I have endured, it’s like my lantern has been re-lit.

In reference to this, within my book there are several instances of light sources. There is one main character, who purchase an old lantern that doesn’t work. Again, mystery surrounds the actual lantern and later the reader is left to determine the actual purpose.

Revelations 21: 23 The city does not need the sun or moon to shine on, because the glory of God is its light, and the lamb is the city’s lamp.

***

There is a remarkable connection in the literal sense of ‘being saved,’ connected to Wm Paul Young’s mother, on the day Harold Munn was born. Paul has a marvellous way of sharing his personal stories.

Harold Munn was born in Victoria where he did his university education at UVic. He subsequently taught for three years in Malawi, East Africa with CUSO. He took his theological training at Trinity College, Toronto.

In my posts, I have purposely left all stories out, as they belong to Paul and his family, not me.  I enjoyed hearing them, despite some very painful ones. I’ve even listened to some, a few times over, as I watched “Restoring the Shack,” I discovered on Amazon Prime.

Part of Restoring The Shack, is to see the many layers deep, the novel takes the reader and quite often…the author themselves.

One discovery I did make in connection to those in need, is that Harold Munn opened his heart to them.

When homelessness is on the doorstep, you can shut the door or you make the decision to advocate, says Nestegaard Paul. “Harold chose the latter.”

RELATIONSHIP IS EVERYTHING. WE ARE DESIGNED FOR RELATIONSHIP. -Wm Paul Young

Having lived in Victoria, BC for eight years, the most blessings I received, was the years spent helping those in need. I never had to pretend I was someone I’m not, with those living on the streets, the walls came down and as we shared a sandwich or coffee together, I’ve never felt more at home than when I was in their presence.

As I continued to enjoy hearing the many stories of connection; with God at the center, I would discover another link to my story. 

My book was written in 2000 and I looked for a strong beautiful name for Christian’s mom, Jack’s wife; a woman of wisdom.  It was then I discovered the name Sophia.

In 2022, Episode 15 The Cave, Paul Young speaks of his character “Sophia,” and how the Greek word for wisdom is Sophia.

For me, as a writer, things are relational. While I don’t go looking for connections, these sharing’s are proof when parts of another creative soul find its way to you, then without a doubt it’s a God connection.

At one of the lovely places I stayed overnight, the owner, Melissa, has this beautiful artwork she created on the bedroom wall. For me and my heart, it spoke of and was reflective of my book.

The Only time you will find God in a box, is because God wants to be where we are.

That is beautiful to me...

Episode 16 and the revelation of The Trinity, spoke straight to me. After, Paul shared a harrowing story of another courageous survivor. This prompted me to recall a time when I had survived a horrific attack and the bravery it took in order for me to endure and live through it.

As the episode unfolded, I was struck with the pure truth that I hadn’t acknowledged before:

I hadn’t saved myself; God was the one who honestly saved me.

The author goes on to share…

God’s intent is to heal us…even though it is ‘AS Through Fire.’

WE need the activity of fire to expose our hearts and heals us

Fire is restorative

Fire purifies us.

God is a consuming fire. 

How often are we rich in ways that matter, than we don’t even know?

Thankful for a God that climbs into our circumstances to be with us.

***

The truth of my times of survival, I have always felt a surrounding presence. An unwavering belief that I will get through this and yet for me verbally to give up all control is like stepping out to a double edged sword- -one side dull and the other side sharp. There are parts of me that loves the danger, the risk and the other wants to play it safe, keep everything ‘inside the lines.’

Throughout my life and because of my system of tangled roots, I have made terrible choices that placed me in times of darkness. Having Bipolar and PTSD is like inviting an army of fire ants to your sandbox. You know your going to experience pain and yet it is a place of comfort to you- all you have ever known.

Paul shares about trust and control:

When you have FEAR  in your life, you can either TRUST or CONTROL.

Let go of control and joy can be a constant companion rather than an occasional acquaintance.

We only get grace one day at a time. I’m spending real grace on things that don’t exist.

So what would it cost me to let go of that CONTROL…IT’S THE RISK OF TRUST.

I have dealt with trust issues all of my life; in fact, in fifty years, there is only one relationship where I was graced with their faithfulness to me. ONLY ONE. My response? I ran as far away as I could from this person because I could not fathom, someone would remain devoted to me.

Sometimes the path for healing from fear is into the fear itself. - Wm Paul Young

I’ve written about it before- growing up having a poverty mentality. How I felt more comfortable having less, as it is my security blanket. I have shared about the guilt tied to my daughter’s untimely and tragic death.  I’ve never been able to explain it in a way, so others could understand, what it is I am wanting to convey until I heard this…

Paul shared he had an orphan heart, in that orphans don’t believe anything actually belongs to them. They’re just waiting for someone whose more worthy, to come along and take it.

There is the profound truth- the cornerstone of my broken walls of mistrust, my cycles of poverty and the feeling of being unworthy of anyone’s love.

“We don’t know there is something GOOD in us that we are worthy of being loved, we’ll be caught in a cycle of religion trying to perform our way into the approval and affection of God.”

I’ve spent most of my life, scared of the woman who brought me into this world. As I watched this series, I wondered if I had ever told her that I thought she was a good woman? While I lamented over never being told, “I am proud of you,” I was stopped in my tracks, if ever I had said the very same to her? When was the last time, my mom had ever heard those words or when last had she been blessed with the title of motherhood?

“I’m furious at the things that are wrong and keep people locked into bondage that are hurting them.”-Wm Paul Young

When we grow up absent of  ‘proper parenting’, we grow up absent of feelings, emotions and characteristics that makes us all unique. I knew I was stupid, lazy, no good for and useless…never did I believe I was worthy, loved, accepted and wanted. Yet, I have a strong sense that neither did my mother.

On the back cover of my novel, I chose to have a snapshot of me at age four and my late, beloved, daughter Shayla, at age two. For me and for her, it was a time where life seemed frozen in a time filled with joy…before my life was impacted by abuse as a little girl for the first but not the last time. The photo is also prior to me nearly dying in a car accident at the age of four, on a highway outside of Edmonton, Alberta.

My daughter Shayla and the picture of her at two years old- was taken at a friends house- 19 years before her life would be tragically taken in a car crash.

These were moments in time, where we understood what happiness felt like.

In my candid honesty, I didn’t want some fake photo of me smiling- while choking on hidden secrets.

I also wanted two photographs - connecting my inner child with hers.

In an interview with Maria Shriver, Wm. Paul Young says:

“It took me a whole life to become a child.”  

I knew in an instant what that meant.

I’ve been trying to spend my whole life reclaiming my past childhood- the one where I was properly loved within the mind of my imagination- where I was properly wanted, nurtured and had proper boundaries.

MOST OF OUR HURT COMES FROM RELATIONSHIPS AND MOST OF OUR HEALING COMES FROM RELATIONSHIPS -Wm Paul Young

Some people think me being a Christian, life is easy. At least those who don’t truly know me. They believe I am galloping through a field of wildflowers and saying, 'God, can you please take this from me,' and it just all falls in place...much like a rainbow- landing perfectly from the sky- unto it's pot o' gold. 

Truth is….I've been in a tug o' war with God, my whole life! The reality is I am that wounded little girl at the playground, who gathers all the sandbox toys together and will not share- for fear of never having anything given back in return. I hold on so tight, that each toys sharp edges is poking into me, causing me pain… but Still…I will not let go.

God is present, not in a way to coerce of control, God is present to be with us in the midst of what we and others have brought to the table.

Just as my trust issues have caused me a multitude of heartache, so has the death of my child.  In the first decade since Shayla died, I did more positive things with my grief that I could imagine. I participated in a six month bereavement course through Hospice, I received personal one on one counselling,  I became a facilitator of GriefShare, a faith based course, to help others, I released my daughter’s ashes into the ocean, on the Island of Maui. Part of my ‘healing’ was to ensure safety changes were and did take place where Shayla died. I started a Pebble Movement and was the one to dedicate her memorial bench. I even read my bible more and I felt closer to God, more than I ever had. There were no instances of displacement, no living out of vehicles and no serious health issues. Then…the damn broke and I was carried away with all the debris of my life.

Loss doesn’t make any sense…

Inside those losses are times where we learn about community, and we learn about each other, we invite people in to places, maybe we haven’t before.

Years ago, I sat in a movie theatre watching “The Shack,” beside two people. I didn’t know them or that it had been filmed in the Southern region of British Columbia. I openly wept, given the tragic loss of a child, was the main theme.

Paul speaks of when we receive nudges: “So, I just got the nudge and those of you who have been walking in a relationship with Jesus, for a long time and learned how to listen to the Holy Spirit, speaking in your language, you know the concept of the nudge. You just get a nudge. It happens in the normalcy of your life. In the ordinariness of everyday and its like that’s a good idea.”

After the movie ended and through my salty tears, sprinkled onto my butter popcorn, I decided it was a good idea to share with the theatre goers beside me…

I said, “I couldn’t help it, but throughout the movie, I expressed my grief, heartache and a sense of unexpected joy. It was such a mixed feeling of emotions, as my only child passed away.”

 The two people sitting next to me smiled and seemed content with my words. The one lady replied, “It was good of you to share, as that means a lot to the both of us…for each of us was on the set of “The Shack.”

“Coincidence has a name…that is GOD is involved in the details of our lives.”

***

There is a beautiful scene in another film, called “Antwone Fisher.” One so powerful, where upon first watching it, I had to shut the movie off and have a good, ugly cry. It was back when I had little or no connection to my extended family. Since then, I have watched the heartbreaking/ inspiring story and been able to sit with my Joy in what it means to have family that cares…that loves me…even those parts of my own shack that I have tried to keep hidden.  To understand deeper connection, I want to share the scene I am speaking of. Antwone Fisher arrives to a house and not just any house…inside are all of his loving relatives, welcoming him to a beautiful feast, a banquet put on, just for him. Everyone is smiling, reaching out with hugs and the love he has hungered for, all of his life. I cry at this heartwarming scene, as I can imagine how beautiful it would feel to be welcomed like that. I also envision the very same kind of welcoming, one where I see my brother also happy, stripped of his imperfections and waiting to hug his little sister, with love…nothing but the pure kind of love that we spent years in search of... within our own worn down shacks.

When the darkness and the lies are inside and kept inside the imprisonment of our own hearts, THEY ARE HUGE. When we let them out…THEY LOSE THEIR POWER. -Wm Paul Young

The series, “Restoring the Shack,” has impacted me at a pivotal time in my life. I have been able to unpack a lot of unfinished baggage and honestly address the major issues in my life. While funds ended abruptly last year, no one is more responsible for where I am at, than myself.

Just as I had danced my way back into darkness, I understand the fragments in me are of my undoing.

Something I have been very blessed to received is grace…many times over and as I look back on this past Christmas, there were many new angels that stepped up, to help me through, for which I am deeply grateful for.

GRATITUDE… WE HAVE SO MUCH TO BE THANKFUL FOR! Take the time to be Thankful for people, circumstances and write them down…even better…TELL THEM. -Wm Paul Young

Yet, as I watched this series, it occurred to me that I have been relying on the human form of angels and not entirely upon my faith. I need to remember that…”God is In the details.”

I have prayed over this many times from the warm comforts of my temporary shelter and finally, I had a my answer! Faith is about having true assurance that what is ahead, I need to wholly give it to God! I cannot have one foot in the sandbox and the other one out- ready to bolt and take hold of whoever will help me. I have spoken to an Intake worker and been given the details of assistance. Yet, what’s important is for me to fully trust in God, to be the one who rescues me. To turn to the bible, I have spent two decades studying and search for the answers I need, among the 1,551 pages I’ve read.

I am unsure what lays ahead, yet some decisions have been made as to the need to control....be given up, no matter the outcome.

With my upcoming birthday, I’ve had some friends reach out and ask me what do I need?

A PRAYER IS AN OPEN CONVERSATION WITH GOD

I took the time in prayer and replied back: “I don’t need anything, but what I would like is if any of you are not Organ Donors…please take the time to sign up. I did and if anything could ever be viable for someone else, then the gift of life is all I ask you to do.”

Also, I am making a declaration in this post so that everyone knows where I stand. It is one Wm. Paul Young made himself, with his wife and children.

I KNOW that you Love me, you care for me and want to see me thrive…but Please, I ask under ANY circumstances, you do NOT Rescue me from this…

***

When you learn to live without expectations, there’s always surprises right around the corner.

This is a God who cares for us, involved in the details….the stories….we get the privilege of unravelling the tapestry of the stories, how we’re all interrelated.

I think we are surrounded by the miraculous, and yet, we are oblivious most of the time. We live our lives in prison; prisons of our own making, prisons that other people have built for us, and sometimes those prisons become our identity.  That is, they become precious to us. Our fears, our hurts, our losses, the abuse, we begin to identify themselves to us. A lot of times the prison door is left unlocked, and we don’t want to leave. So here is the question Paul asks us to think about:

How much of your life do you live inside the hurt and the losses of your history; inside what other people have done to you, inside your own suffering?

Has it become an identity to you…and what would it cost you… to walk out? - Wm. Paul Young

 

By TL Alton

Canadian Fiction Under the Sitka Tree by TL Alton

 Under the Sitka Tree is a Canadian, historical book of fiction.

It is set in the 1950’s, in an isolated, coastal town called Ospero Falls, BC.

The tight-knit community is a place where doors remain unlocked, and people help one another. It is a place that sees children fill their Radio Flyers with home-baked goodies, to sell after church and raise funds- for whatever is needed within their town.

 Due to the influx of various individuals, the mountain has been carved and where there were trees, now there is a settlement of people, who flock to its new beginnings.

Within the close-knit community, resides two, separate families. Jack, Sophia and Christian O’Connelly, along with Victoria and Skylar Falls, all move into the small town. 

Due to trust being broken, each of them carries secrets. Within the ties of community, they seek out their true identities, in order to find healing.

Ospero Falls has deep roots within its citizens, where during Sunday services- no one falls asleep in hearing the Good word. It is where individuals visit, at the homes of those operating the small businesses, which keeps one another alive and thriving. The various cultures living among the mountains see people gather together, to divide up cabbage rolls, baked salmon au gratin and rice balls.

 Engaging in conversations over the latest catch of the day and discussing local chatter, is to offset the conflicts, scattered across the nations.

It is here that a father ‘s close bond with his son is found rooted within the forest. While the nurturing love of mothers, help one another, throughout the difficulties each encounters.

Within the slumber of the forest, awaits a Sitka spruce, waiting for its discovery. Among the towering mass, contained inside, is the pillar of the tree - the heartwood. After tragedy strikes Ospero Falls, the Sitka is found by a young boy. His pursuit leads him to make use of the tree, for a bigger purpose, which changes everything within the townspeople.

For every aspect of light that shines within Ospero Falls, there are elements of darkness. Shadows where domestic abuse lingers and racism threatens, to over spill from another nearby town. Among the various maladies, there are reminders that death- although distant- is in truth, closer to those whose lungs breathe in, the brackish sea.  

In spite of their vulnerabilities and after exposure to a hidden, deadly secret, a little girl finds herself sharing her worries- in the most magical of places- Mother Nature. Her connections to the woodlands run deep; a place for her to trust, discover and play in a place she feels free. When she finds herself among the sprawling canopy of the Sitka, it fosters a protective energy. One that helps offset something, which is cloaked in something sinister.

Love, loss and the awakenings of those who reside in the small, yet thriving community have a connection to mother nature, the fragility of life and the value of friendship.

Under the Sitka tree, is about finding the balance of light, within the darkness. Weaved inside the storyline, are the roots of those, who are all interconnected.

A love story, which reminds us of our own fears and weaknesses.

Under the Sitka Tree, is infused with history that reveals how we embrace one another, in times of conflict. Within a flicker of light uncovered in an old lantern- each character's personal transformations burn brighter…as they seek something… with a greater purpose.

***

Under the Sitka Tree is available for purchase.

www.tlaltondesign.com

by TL Alton 

The Reveal of Under the Sitka Tree by TL Alton ~ A promise made~ is a promise kept to Shayla

 

My calling to write a Canadian, historical fiction novel, was interwoven with the filaments of darkness and light. While I always knew, it was also rooted in a promise to my young daughter, in the many years I devoted to my writing, I also found purpose and healing. The two things I needed most, differed  in the way that I would seek them and where they would find me. In order for me to truly understand the liberation of words, I would need to rise and fall, over and over…until I finally understood that I simply needed to truly let go…in order to come together in a way that was intended for me, all along. 

~ TL Alton

I had always dreamed, but could not envision fully- the process of what it would take to both write a novel and also to see it be in print.

www.tlaltondesign.com

Attached to the bindings of “Under the Sitka Tree,” are the countless names of those, who helped me along the way to fulfill my promise to my daughter, Shayla.

Pinky Promise Journal ~Etsy 

One of the greatest feats for me to accomplish, is to recall with my poor memory, all of those who welcomed me into their homes, fed me in my times of displacement and nourished my weary soul.

My book contains both an introduction and acknowledgements. When I first began, I needed several pages to write the names of those, who also opened their hearts, to me.

I have made the decision, to leave the gratitude to be found, among the pages of my book.

***

One person, who has continued to help bring the book to a final proof, is Leon Oldale. It is because of his professional services, I know the value of his formatting, the way his lay out, design and presentation, all came together- is remarkable. Leon’s work has been done so well, the printing company praised his efforts and so do I! He has the utmost patience for the occasions, I have found something missing or needed to revise. Leon has dedicated his valued time and helped me to have a better understanding of the entire process. Prior to surgery on my heart, he created a mock-up proof of my book. When, for the first time, I held Under the Sitka Tree in my hands, it was glory to our Heavenly Father that I let go… as the emotions, my tears and all that I have given over the span of two decades, came forth….there was a surge of release.

                                                                                ***

~ Nelson Mandela 

Throughout the journey of writing a book that historically spans generations and decades, I learned as a Canadian author, many heartbreaking realities about our country.

Yet in my research, I also heard real life accounts, about those whose blood were shed for us- in Canada- to be free. The individuals who fought in wars, included a multitude of various cultures, such as African- Americans and First Nations. In exploring our Canadian history, I understood that what I had found in the latest books of libraries and archives I visited; were things I was never taught, in my own school studies. 

It made me realize, there are parts of our countries roots, which have been severed. That within our maple leaf, there is a disconnect that remains within our 'North, Strong and Free' - evident within our present discord. 

In my novel, I strive to create a multitude of characters, who each encompass a part of our sordid past. It was equally important, in my storyline, to show woman of strength and purpose. Rather than be viewed as victims, I wrote about their survivorship. Through various topics that include racism, faith, cancer and abuse, each character is bound to something they need to overcome. Their paths see them travel difficult routes, where they find themselves claiming or abandoning something, so as to attain what their heart desires. 

The reflection of who I am as a writer, is bound within the pages of what it means to be a proud Canadian and how we are trying to come to terms, with the forced assimilation of our past. 

In Under the Sitka Tree, certain characters are seeking in their lives something they fear has been lost. However, when the truth is discovered, it comes at a cost. 

Upon meeting and speaking with several Residential School survivors, the fictitious characters in my book, came to life. As I delved into creating back stories, I discovered in all that was sacrificed, had an impact on my own generation (within my Caucasian family).  I realized I needed to unfasten from me, a belief system, where superiority had taken root within my own families past.

Being different my whole life, had entrenched in me a feeling of worthlessness and a deep-rooted scar of being unloved. Much like Sylvia Plath and Virginia Woolf , I have roots in my depressive-anxiety disorder. Thus, my gift of creativity, has been full of blessings. Also the self-discovery over my descriptive style of writing, ignites my passion, for the fusion of the written word. 

Among the pages of my novel, there are filaments of who I am, attributes that saturate those chosen to be part of my book. 

Under the Sitka tree, instilled in me thru my writing that my wounds needed to be healed, through the means of acceptance within. I was then taken on a way of passage, where I would discover a place to call home, a location for my book…within Ospero Falls, BC. 

It means "I hope" and is part of the Latin proverb: Dum Spiro Spero (While I breathe, I Hope.) Therefore, the creation of a (fictitious) town was established. 

A community of hope ~ where unity can be found amongst those who do not see colour or labels, nor division of cultural. 

The core of my novel, is about what happens when we claims things, which don’t belong to us. It delves into what happens- when we do not stand up for others. My book also has tendrils of deception, where some characters are willing to risk it all, for things that have severe consequences. The important value of time- both past and present- is seen through those who respect it and those who misuse it. 

It’s not what time steals, it’s what it leaves behind…things you can’t forget. ~ Charlize Theron

The true revelation of Under the Sitka Tree, is the promise made over twenty years ago, to my daughter  Shayla who passed away….is that a promise made is a promise kept.

Baby Shae-Rae Dawn 

This would not have been possible without the countless individuals, who along the journey, were put in my life to sustain me along the way.

I have never made claim that this was a solo venture, as it would not be even fathomable to think of where I would be, had not the kindness of others touched my life.

To those who were faithful in your beliefs that I could and would get my book published, I sincerely thank you, for beyond the measure of kindness…each of you gifted me Hope.

This dream of mine, would not be possible without the faith that I have and the truth in knowing that I am loved and accepted, is a pure blessing from God. Only He knows the infinite number of hours I have devoted to my book. Along the way, I remained humbled by all was taught and yet still stumbled. 

It was when I as the author, let God hold the pen in writing the story of my life, was I able to understand the importance of doing so. 

When I made another poor decision or wrapped myself up in someone I thought cared for me; Jesus is a reminder of the ultimate price paid on the cross for my sins and his love for me- no matter what.

Under the Sitka Tree, reminds me that out of the lowest moments in my life, I had a continual companion in the words… that were spilled forward onto the pages. No matter what, I could see the light and that the fractures along my own route, actually illuminated the darkness…in order for me, to find my way.

 

By TL Alton 

The Sparks of A Bipolar Heart

                            

 "He Was there the Whole Time" ~ 1 of 1 Original Artwork by Wenelda Zurrin.

The above framed artwork was gifted to me, on the day I was baptized. 

It would take 21 years for me to complete my novel and to fulfill my purpose. I feel this quote sums it up best...

“It is never too late to be what you might have been.” ~George Eliot

At first, this post was going to solely be about the journey of my book, Under the Sitka Tree.

Mainly because a promise I made over twenty years ago, to my daughter Shayla (who died in 2011), was finally coming true! However, as what happens when I sit down to write…the words found within the storage of my heart, want to be released in their own way. 

Therefore, this post is also interwoven with the journey of my mental health. It is for all of those who sparks may have diminished. To those who sparks have been gone and to all of those, who need someone to come along and re-ignite their light within.

In sharing this, I am owning everything that stems from what has taken place in specific circumstances. All of which, impacted my mental health, over the years.

Included in this, are the days spent investigative reporting on sexual/human trafficking, which took me down some dark, sordid roads- with some shady characters. Additionally, the perils of last years displacement (which triggered a stroke, aneurysm and a breakdown in my mental health)- severed a 40 year friendship in the springtime.

While my sincere apologies were not accepted, I know within my heart of hearts I meant every word. The most importantly part for me, was to acknowledge I was in crisis and then I reached out to my Doctor and Specialist. All of whom offered help and understanding in dealing with my insomnia and a new medication that interrupted my path of wellness. 

This post , while about my mental health, is also about the journey which brought me full circle some two decades later, with my book. As I write, I am well aware that had it not been for the grace of God and the compassionate hearts of other, I would not be able to compose this.

For what I believed long ago- was a journey of one- is really an compilation of kindness, mercy and support, I have been given.  

In my venturing soul that yearned to fulfill a promise to my daughter, I also needed to traverse the invisible mountain, placed in front of me… in order to complete my novel.

There are four songs chosen for my post. Each one holds links to chapters throughout my life.

The first, Hold On, is about a father and son relationship, ripped apart by suicide and expressed in a dance/story-telling sequence.

Derek Hough - Hold On (Official RIV Dance Story- *Trigger Warning)

https://youtu.be/zKxvx-lVdIA

I relate to this heart wrenching video- in the shame I carried. My earlier life passages, contain three separate, suicide attempts. 

All of which, were prior to receiving a life-changing positive diagnosis, of Bipolar. In typing my words, I look back and cannot imagine the hell I would have put my only child through and loved ones, had any of the attempts taken hold. When I watch this powerful video, I envision Shayla sitting in that chair and the tears began to flow.

Thanks to God, there was salvation for me after all of the darkness and the semicolon I proudly wear on my wrist; is a profound reminder of my faith and resilience...to carry on. 

While there Is more to my story, it is not merely about me. For the past year has made history in many tragic ways. It is about a virus introduced that carried over communities, nations and our world. The pandemic that has ravaged our schools, our hospitals, our churches and our connections with one another. At the root of the past, there has been an infiltration of fear, intolerance and unease. Add to the tragic discoveries of hundreds (exceeding now) of unmarked graves at former residential schools…causing us to acknowledge our scattered past, while fires wreak havoc on our country, already in jeopardy.  

It is then I pause to recognize those who are no longer with us, for various reasons. I am mortified by 2020/2021's anguish and sorrow. Yet, all the while humbled enough to understand that if I can openly share from within my heart- the one with a hole in it- it is to give what spark I have left, to others.

This year saw me continue to work on the one promise I have been striving to keep...the publication of my first novel, Under the Sitka Tree.

What I want readers to understand, is I would like to also pay tribute to those who are working from home or out in their communities. I acknowledge those who are under tight deadlines, which is affecting their mental health and well-being.

To those I call friends, who have had to work 100% more than me, for their income, who have challenging days and cope with exhaustion. Yet, they still 'show up to work' and give everything they have, in order to survive and provide.

For me, my appreciation for them, is paved with the respect of all that they do!

When my time isn’t spent on getting my novel in print, I have been working on re-building my short term memory issues, along with my other health concerns. I also spend time everyday in prayers, holding in reverence my 22 yr. old nephew Matt, who passed away. Matt died, on the same day (July 28th, 2020), I had my ischemic stroke. 

Matt loved the stars, the galaxy and all that was in it. There is a cherished photograph of him in the open air, sun setting upon him and in a world full of joy. That is how I chose to remember him by, with love and a shared passion for the outdoors.

Matt also loved quotes and when I heard this for the first time, I thought of him…

“You can’t wait until life isn’t hard anymore, before you decide to be happy.” 

~ Jane Marczewski/Nightbirde

In taking the time needed to seeing my book to completion, I also became a learner of all things Sitka. For when I hired a skilled Editor in Liam Ford, to work with me on the novel, I thought this was it. I would find out; the easy part… was writing it 😊

Next came a Copy Editor, whose questioning methods, made me sharpen my storyline. Just when I felt my manuscript was finished…I was introduced to Leon Oldale. The dedication, he gave my novel, was phenomenal! As a formatter, Leon worked on every section with a keen eye. He devoted his time to each sentence, punctuation and cross-referencing. Being a family man, I know he stretched himself thin. For all the while he dedicated to my novel, and us going back and forth; each new day brought a greater appreciation for self-publishing! I know with all my heart that the hands upon Sitka from George, Leon, Marty, Karen, Ben-Lee, Lindsey and Craig are all part of the roots, which make up Under the Sitka Tree.

The transformation that took place within my book, also took hold within me and I discovered my true writers voice, in the pages being turned.

“Where you are planted, is not where you have to remain rooted.” ~ Billy Chapata

Every minute spent in the artistic origins of Sitka, saw me blessed with additional inspiration, after my prayer and bible reading. For each creative soul out there, has a go to….a song or mantra, a place or some peaceful meditation.

For all my readers, I would love for you to meet Gary Miracle. His amazing journey is something I tune into every day! For he had his chapters interrupted by septic shock that forever changed him. I would hope more people would watch this video and see that a man given the last name ‘Miracle’…actually became one!

Mercy Me – Say I Won’t (The Gary Miracle Story/video of Hope)

https://youtu.be/UhTHgaCjTJs

On a side note, for those interested and having watched the above video- last month Gary Miracle received his legs and YES! He did take his first steps.

After watching Gary’s extraordinary story on a daily basis, I realized that my dream was possible. I was more than capable of accomplishing All things through Christ who strengthens me. In my prayers, I understood if I was going to fulfill the promise I made to Shayla, then I would need to release all control to God and ask for him, to be the ink inside my pen!

God delivered in ways… that I understand had his hands all over Sitka, from the beginning to completion!

The next chapter to unfold,  came with an awe-inspiring understanding of who I am and what is my purpose?

Need to Breathe- Who Am I

https://youtu.be/Iooys8xC3QA

Only now, am I able to reflect on the beautiful truth about those individuals; who much like lofty branches, carried me along the way towards my goal.

Only days before I am scheduled for surgery on my heart, to close the hole in it, have I completed my book and moving forward.

Everyone kindly keeps on telling me that I will be okay, and I believe it!

For I hold close the following:

It is not me who is in control, but the one God, who created me.

I feel honoured and grateful to embrace the story, I was gifted with, over twenty years ago.

“Under the Sitka Tree,” echoes my faith journey of love found and lost, the pathways of bereavement and the simple magnificence of bringing beauty out of ashes.

In my last chapter, I came to realize, without my infusion of Bipolar…. I could never have imagined ‘Sitka.’

For every bit of struggle, rejection, sorrow and valued time spent, I can lift my hands to the one and praise Him that throughout it all…he has ALWAYS been there for me…

So with every heartbeat in my chest
Lord, I surrender all that I have
The days yet to come and the days in the past
I'm giving You all, all that I am
With lifted hands…

Ryan Stevenson - With Lifted Hands (Official Lyric Video)

https://youtu.be/7drEyGsF-Vo

 

By TL Alton