Thursday, April 28, 2011

Companionable Solitude

Every other week he pulls the brown rolling suitcase out from under the bed, asks me what he wore the last time he went because he doesn't want to wear the same shirt visit after visit, leaves before my feet hit the floor and returns the next day after we've clearly landed in dream land.


This regular travel added, as an after the fact, in his career. The job he does is not an assumed travel role. It's been hard on him and months ago he asked me to go. To go is no simple task of a plane ticket but with the help of Grands we made it happen. His giddy heart at traveling with a companion it just made me smile. Up at the crack of dawn I followed his lead through the maze of security, walked at his brisk pace through the terminal, sat at his side holding hands on the plane.


Romantic, restful. Words I would not equate to a business trip alongside The Man. Words he didn't equate. He still had meetings and lunch appointments. I spent hours alone in the room, at Barnes 'n Noble, walking in the sunshine and then the pouring rain. I realized I had not been alone, by myself, able to finish a thought, read an entire page, look strangers in the eyes and ponder their lives from a park bench in too, too long.


We drove the rolling hills of Alabama and Tennessee. We rode in silence. He pulled over when the stop light proved too short and I didn't get that snapshot.



We marveled at beauty and rolled in the charm of small towns. We drank coffee from a one of a kind little place and danced with joy at the opportunity to experience it.



I love The Man. We had two days of Companionable Solitude. Time to say things we wanted to say and then time to just be. It was another brick laid on the foundation of this amazing journey we're on together.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Holy Saturday

A guest post from my Girlie #2:

(A sweet little face approached me early this morning gripping a sheet of loose leaf paper. She had something she needed to say and could she offer it up to you via this blog. How could I say no? Here are Juliette's thoughts and photographs on this Holy Saturday)


Today, 1,981 years ago the world was hopeless, their savior hung on a tree and now is in a tomb. I find it easy to celebrate because I know how it ends. But, at that time, history was being made, prophecies being fulfilled.

After this Jesus knew that every thing had been done. To make scripture come true, he said, "I am thirsty." There was a jar full of vinegar there so the soldiers soaked a sponge in it. They put it on the branch of a hyssop plant and lifted it to Jesus' mouth. Jesus tasted the vinegar. then he said, "It is finished." He bowed his head and died. John 19:28-30


 This was the news they were left with. He died on a cross and  was buried in a tomb. But there is a wonderful ending.


It comes tomorrow.

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Dark to Light

Here it is all celebration save one event. There is one area where we hold back, one area where we stand in darkness anticipating light. I breath shallow in expectation.

We made an Alleluia banner. Alleluia, it's the song of heaven. It's been nearly 40 days since we took that song and buried it. It lies on the front table beneath a cloak of black. Its stand awaiting the resurrection, awaiting Easter morn. The symbolism pierces deeply. A black scar in the springtime decor. It mars.


40 days walking past, mourning its absence, the beauty of the song. Mourning because it's loveliness, it lies there buried black, while the bounty of spring burst forth across our world.  I have walked these 40 Days my heart longing to know him better, for sight to SEE the sacrifice.


I grew up in the church. It has always been there, the egg hunts and colorful dresses, sweet white gloved youths with their ribboned hats, post church feasts on tables set dazzling, baskets spilling over with sweetness. The yearlyness of it all lost on this often blind soul.



This year, THIS YEAR, I would be transformed. I would see with new eyes. I would deprive myself, bury the song of heaven, immerse myself in the dark to truly see the light.

God, well he gladly met me here. In my darkened state he softened my heart and adjusted the perscription of my glasses.

 And this, Christ, is the stunning irony:
    that their evil was made good in you! You knew our nature as children of wrath; you knew      exactly how we would choose; you put yourself in harm's way that our sin might kill you, that your death might redeem us even from our sinful nature!
    Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, and I grow dizzy thinking about it. All that I can say with certainty, but with everlasting gratitude, is --
Amen.
~Reliving the Passion by Walter Wangerin Jr.


Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Celebratory ADHD

Today, I can't write. I am too full of joy and party planning and people I love. I've got celebratory ADHD I can't seem to string together two words to create a cohesive sentence. However, I can sew, bake a cake and visions of the sweetest brown and pink jungle baby shower dance in my head while white, cold lifeless eggs stand at attention in the frig screaming to become masterpieces at the hands of my offspring.


My desk is strewn with handwritten notes, plans for our first Seder dinner, our first celebration of Passover and the goal is Wednesday night. We're doing Wednesday because that's the only day we can make it happen. This is a year of transformation and I'm learning to just make it happen, not so much make it perfect. But,I still keep checking and double checking how the whole thing is supposed to look.

My ADHD point here is God likes us to celebrate.

In all my Seder searching and studying I learned how many time Passover had to be reinstated, how many times they had to be reminded to go back to the basics and celebrate all God had done. Passover celebrated it's First Anniversary in Numbers 9 and we only make it to Deuteronomy 16 when it had to be restated as a command, the people had to be commanded to celebrate, to keep The Passover. It's Joshua 5:10-11 that the Passover is renewed by the Israelites upon entering Canaan. Ezra 6:19 and 20 talks about the Passover after they return from captivity. Hezekiah restored it in 2 Chronicles 30-32 and then there is another 400 year interruption when Josiah reinstates it in 2 Kings 23 and 2 Chronicles 35, it was lost again until Ezekiel 45:21-24.


We get lost a lot. Keenly aware of this, I couldn't hold back the thought, Why? when we get lost, do we lose our celebratory hearts. We do. We lose our gratitude. For me it lands me on the couch with a full bag of something that I eat more for the texture and act of eating than the flavor or fulfillment of the food. This is where depression sets in for me. It's a slippery slope. I'm grateful to have learned the signs of decline.

But, Jump into Joy, fill up my fun tank (as my folks used to always say) and there are more reasons to celebrate than there are days to plan.


Gratitude has made all the difference. God commanded. There are bitter bites of life all around me and some moments the reality of this fractured world tapes back my eyelids. Instead of gazing at him I take in searing pain all around me. It's a yoke I try to carry on my own. I'm so grateful he's given good direction on that bad habit too.

Well, thanks for following along on my ADHD post, I gotta go paint myself a Union Jack. Gotta make sure our American abode is properly attired for this little April 29th wedding. I've never attended a wedding in my p.j.'s before, it's sounding like a fun way to be a wedding guest. I do love a good wedding!


Celebrating:

891.
On the drive home The Man chastises himself for not getting my coffee at the store farthest from our house, "That way you have more time to enjoy without losing it and drinking it cold" cause once we hit our front door I set it down and cannot find it. And I laugh that he knows me well and loves me for it!


892.
Bones are healing and laying down calcium and she will be whole again.


893.
Celebrating -t- today and that in this whole wide world God planted them just 10 houses down the same street.


894.
Hanging wallpaper border and decorating the 'Girl Room' at my parents house.


895.
Wrapping up our shopping to recognize Mom's car in the parking lot and going back in the store to sneak up on her.


896.
Dad making his wise cracks and I laugh and He laughs and kids laugh. What a joy to laugh!


897.
Baking a birthday cake and visions of Grand Professional dance in my head and it is okay but my kids oooh and aaah like it was made by Duff and my eyes well that their precious love is blind.


898.
Mowing the yard so he comes home and the whole job is done.


899.
Walking past the butterfly garden and the movement of air disturbs the inhabitants and they flutter golden in the sun.


900.
The Beast in his 'Lifeguard' t shirt barking at the kids in the pool like he really is the lifeguard.


Friday, April 15, 2011

Mom is GREAT...

She gives us Homemade Chocolate Chip Bread with Nutella and Marshmallow Cream sandwiches for lunch!

And it is Good...


Not a single chlild complains about the contents of their lunch plate...


Mom madly reads the labels of the sandwhich innards to justify this amazing, unconventional and indulgent lunch that has her children dancing and singing around the lunch table.


First, She did make the bread from home ingredients with her own little machine and, Look at that... jars telling her...Made with Skim Milk and no artificial colors! Yahoo! Even the white fuffy part is void of Fat or Cholesterol. Mom is feeling super pleased as she licks the gooey goodness of her own fingers.

Sending you gooey goodness and delightful indulgence for your Friday and on into your week-end!

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Open Skies

Hungry souls looking for our King. 
A thirst that can only be quenched...

 

Quenched by a journey out to embrace what he has created.

Time to dwell 
In the Company of our Beloved King

Meandering through unspeakable beauty. 
We journey to pause, stop when beauty awes.

It leaves us breathless.


Our hearts overflow, burst with the revelry 
and with being, 
Here....
Just being Here Now.



Listening to creation sing. 





Feeling him in the wind. 


He is here and my soul drinks long of his majesty.
I am refreshed.

Monday, April 11, 2011

Bare, Naked

I've been working hard, a lifetime of working hard, to justify my reason for being here. My coming launched a marriage that would've never been. I remember all the times their eyes looked so sad. So many times life was just too hard and they argued and fought and I just loved them with all my heart and maybe, by being better, being good,  pleasing all the folks, well, it could light a smile in their eyes. 
Maybe then God would be pleased too?
I now realize, but I didn't always know, that I live my days that way.


So I embark on this journey. To type out a few posts because I have a knack with letters and words and I'm fluid with ink and paper. I'll just jot some items here. And in my jotting, in the desire to offer real true, authentic tales of life and growth, I rip back secret doors and let you in. As I type each word, hit post to publish, I grow smaller.  I reach for elusive things, things, if touched they seem to disappear. I long to be humble and work to the glory of him alone. The truth at the core of who I am is pride and I like the praise and applause of others. It makes me curious why God would choose to use me in this way that might draw praise and applause.


So on my knees I go and I beg that he would purge that side of this girl. She learned long ago how to command eyes to her and make em smile. He asks her to be transparent. He knows how well she wears a mask and it is sterile perfection. He applies mask removal and shows you what she really is, who she really is.  She types out many pretty things, pretty posts that would put the mask securely back in place, but they fall cold and hard. Potential posts look polished and professional and she knows in her spirit to hit delete and she does.


It's back to her  journals where she bares her soul and cries out to God and he asks her to offer that mess, her authentic self and so she types out dirty, sinful and messy.  Too many times they are poorly edited and sometimes, to her, it feels lacking in cohesion but, Christ is found there. 


She is left baffled and even more so as she continues to grow smaller. Her hand is learning to hold tighter to his in even the sun-shiniest of moments. The warmth of his hand is more than she ever needed. It is only in the realm of God Economics, 'G'economics of offering my sinful self to you bare and naked draws me closer to the Father. God's true mystery.

Counting More of God's Mysteries:

851.
Celebrating another year of Dad's life.

852.
Hearing how sweet little Lewis  is recovering.

853.
The beauty of the wildflowers blooming alongside the Florida highway.

855.
The excitement level of our Beast upon our return home.

856.
Finding joy in the hour long  traffic jam that took us only 4  miles.

860.
The chill in the early morning air.

863.
A new family motto, 'Attitude to Gratitude' and The Boy turns to me in the car and says, "Okay Mom I'm so over it",  when I recite it to him for the millionth time. So, I say, "Me too, so get grateful" and he smiles and nods his head in knowing.

866.
The Man's excitement and joy in Bird Watching.

869.
The ballerina got dressed in full leotard and tights with her boot cast for her first day back in dance.

868.
Self propelled lawnmowers to get that machine through thick Florida grass.

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