Poetry Lesson

Shall I teach
you the way
of a blossom,
the way of a cherry
twisting beneath
her stem,
shall I.

- L.L. Barkat, Inside Out, p. 69.

She let me borrow her poetry here. I let her have my picture there.

When I grow up and
know how to write
poetry
(for real),
I'd love to own her delightful
talent, her
pacing, her
gift for observation, for
making my heart dance, for
bringing tears where
there haven't been tears in years.

She takes my breath away.

You must absolutely read her book.

Yes, L.L., teach me the way of your blossom. I want to learn what it is you know about her.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

A Little Spring, On Me

I've been here at my computer most of the day. With Tweetdeck up and running.

And ya'll are COLD.

I've been working in black and white at my blog, touching up my template.

It's black and white and raining outside too.

And I'm cold.

So have a little spring, on me.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

When Barren is Beautiful

Thank you for this thorn embedded in my flesh;
I can feel the mystery, my spirit is made fresh.
You are sovereign still and forever wise;
I can see the miracle opening my eyes

To a proud heart so quick to judge
Laying down crosses and carrying grudges.
The veil has been torn -
And I thank you for this thorn

Thank you for this thorn, fellowship of pain
Teaching me to know you more, never to complain
Thank You for this love planted in my side,
Faithful patient miracle opening my eyes.

I never thought I'd say it without reservation,
But I am truly grateful for this piercing revelation
Of a proud heart so quick to judge,
Laying down crosses and carrying grudges -
The veil has been torn,
And I thank you for this thorn

And if You chose to take it, I will praise You
And thank You for the healing in Your name.
But if it must remain, I thank You for Your rod
Evidence of Father-love for a child of God.

I join You in the sorrow,
So much less than You have borne,
And I thank you, really I thank You...
Lord I thank You; I thank You for this thorn

- Twila Paris, This Thorn

I hever saw myself posting this song, or even echoing it from my heart until today when I found myself humming it, voicing it, singing it during a diaper change.

Yesterday's words were for me. I meant only to give voice to myself and my struggle, meant only to shovel out some of my personal winter to make room for some spring.

Today, writing from here, I am nearly wordless at the depth of the response. I look at your words poured out in yesterday's comment box, filling my email inbox - words of encouragement, affirmation, identification. Words and prayers and Scripture and hope to refresh me, to make me feel young again, to let me know that there is still life to be had, to reach for my heart with yours and wrap it up and send it heavenward.

I have said thank-you so often lately, I can't help but respond with grateful all over the place. I am still with amazement today.

Today has been a slow day, a quiet day, a sunny day with March winds in January bearing growing excitement for us. It has been a day for making room, for choosing trust, for having and holding and trying again.

His mercies are new every morning, I learned in my first round of depression, when every night I fell into bed feeling I'd failed, knowing I'd handed in my miracles. They are still new, every morning.

This is what His faithfulness is.

I can't begin to describe it for you. It is simply something I know.

Last time I walked this path, I wanted what I wanted - the assurance that I would not lose, the end of my pain for crying out loud. God Himself was not reward enough for me. I was alone because I chose my isolation from His grace.

I am not alone this time. I could not have written what I wrote without the new knowledge I have of His love for me.

When I wrote yesterday, I could not thank Him for this, but today I step gingerly into praise. I learned last time not to feel guilty for the good days.

Worship aches out in breath today, in not-so-studied bed-making and hair-doing and nursing and diaper-changing and in writing and in cooking, which I have done.

There are not words adequate for this grateful, for this sense that God cares - He really does.

I look outside, absorb the sun and the blue and the trees and the glory of the morning traveling into noon and into early evening. The smile comes deep, peace that barely curves my lips, peace that lightens my eyes.

He has borne my burdens; you have borne them with Him. He has enriched my soul; He has used your words to do it. He has given me a good day; He has given me Himself.

Should it stun me that I am not wasted after four days in the dark? Should I be so amazed that I am not destroyed?

I am.

And I am, quite frankly, humbled. It as if I am seeing the world through different eyes today. I keep blinking, trying to make sense of it all, trying to figure out what to do with this "enfolded" feeling, with this "surrounded" feeling - this safe that isn't even a feeling so much as it is a faith.

I don't understand why I should feel beautiful like this. Why I should feel cherished like this. Comforted like this. Quieted like this.

Who am I to deserve such treatment?

Slowly, I learn now to pray.

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This post also linked at Holy Experience for Walk With Him Wednesday.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Metaphor

New Orleans.

Everywhere, you could see lingering evidence of the storm. Whole apartment buildings stood gutted. Water marks crawled up walls, seeking disguise beneath mossy grime. Houses that had been homes stood empty, windows shattered, gone. There was a boarded-up Walmart that was missing its sign. A Burlington Coat Factory with a Baby Depot hosted only shopping carts in the parking lot. Car lots with spanking new vehicles boasted only temporary or damaged signs. We drove over Lake Pontchartrain on a bridge that had been patched together.

After the storm, there was talk of abandoning the city. Leaving it a ghost town, a silent, eerie memorial to Katrina's wrath. So many were killed. So many lost everything. So many chose not to return.

But some did return. There were new houses, new siding, new landscaping in neighborhoods that still housed condemned and destroyed homes. The city's French Quarter was packed with humanity and gridlocked traffic around the famous Café du Monde. New Orleans was hosting some rather important football game in which fans for both teams wore red and white. And parallel to the patched bridge was a new bridge being constructed of pieces from the old.

At first, I didn't notice the damage still visible in New Orleans. Like any other city I have visited, I was first struck by the character of the city. I could taste its wildness, its passion, its pain, its memory. As we left the city, however, I saw. There was an ache that brought tears.

Aftermath. That was the word. The word that focused the emotions of my journey, my personal storm, the word that focused what I was seeing all around me. And then, hope.

After every storm, there is life. Not everything dies. But the damage - that stays. Unless someone returns to restore it. Unless someone rebuilds what was broken. If someone can see hope for future in the ruins of what was, even what was can be raised again to bring life.

There is no measure to time out the aftermath. It is what it is, and each day is a new day, when piece by piece, old bits of rubble may be gathered, removed, salvaged, turned into something new. It will never be what was, but then, who knows yet what it was meant to be?

...

I ran across this post in my archives the other day, first posted in January of last year, and I thought it bore a repost, which I often think when I reread my old writing after a while. This, of course, got me to thinking that this must be some sort of shameless, narcissistic self-promotion, and I wondered if anyone else felt that way about a favorite post of theirs.

So I decided to turn my self-promotion into an other-promotion opportunity and give you a chance to link up one of your favorite posts from your archives. Yes, this is your chance to promote yourself too. I am being an enabler. I hope this is okay.

When I get my computer back, I'm sure I'll come up with a button for this, but for now, just repost your favorite on your blog today with a link to my blog and drop the permalink into the MckLinky below before Sunday at 11:00 p.m., EST.

Oh yes, and be sure to leave me a comment after leaving your link - just so I know you're here!

If it goes over well, I'll make it an every-other-Friday feature.

And for a promotional bonus: next Friday I will feature a shout-out to a favorite from the posts left here, in addition to my own repost.

...







(Image © SXC)

Sometimes I wonder...

...if it really does any good to pray.

And on days like today, I stumble into the reality that God listens. And answers.

You who are praying for me, I am in awe. I am almost hesitant to accept the strength, the encouragement, the rays of sunlight, the uplifted mood as everything shifts from clouds to color and brightness.

The waiting isn't hard today. My heart isn't so heavy as my stomach feels, hanging off my front, bigger than ever. His good is falling down around me, and I'm heart-staring in unwarranted surprise.

I have no explanation beyond your prayers.

It's humbling for me to ask you to continue. But who can knock this? Especially realizing that He is listening to you. Answering your prayers. Caring for me. Showing His care for you in His provision for me.

I think I don't need to be so hesitant to offer to pray as I have been.

Thank you for praying for me. For your involvement in teaching this heart more about His heart.

Ya'll (lol - my ode to having moved South!!! - did I just SAY THAT???) are incredible.

"Praise the LORD! Oh, give thanks to the LORD, for He is good! For His mercy endures forever."
(Ps. 106:1)





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

my sister "party"

I'm not much of a party planner lately, so it wasn't really planned. I don't have a lot of friends down here yet, so it wasn't a large party. It wasn't even really a "party." It was a whole, wonderful weekend spent drowsing and watching movies and playing with Piper and visiting the beach and getting a flat tire and hanging out and going out and talking and laughing in-between times. We didn't remember to get a photo of us together until Leeann was on the plane headed home - Can you imagine, this photographer has been on camera strike lately.

This whole Sister Party thing left me feeling a bit unsure of myself, wanting to participate, not really having close friends I could just hang with - until Leeann came to town for a visit.

Leeann's visit refreshed me. She was a bridesmaid in my wedding, the one bridesmaid who was really there for me, even though I didn't realize it at the time. She sees me as I am, and is willing to be who she is with me in spite of it. We talk about God and life and learn from one another; she challenges me with her optimism in the face of D.C. politics. I love seeing how God has secreted her away from the power struggles there and given her a passion for hearts instead.

I can still talk about boys with her too - she's single and fantastic. She hasn't yet met the guy who wants God the way she does, and she doesn't want to settle. So we can giggle and dream together and I get to wonder some more at the man God dropped into my life, because I sure wouldn't be married yet if He hadn't been holding and moving Pete's heart to Himself.

I've known Leeann for eight years now. She's been my friend since I started collapsing with undiagnosed M.S., since we both had feelings for the same guy, since I dropped out of school and we read John together in my new office. And since I got married, she has remained my friend, has been willing to give me a chance to be me in spite of marriage, has made a friend of Pete - sometimes it freaks me out, their same sense of humor!

My sister party wasn't so much an hour for hanging out and chatting it up as it was a time to drink deeply of my appreciation for this real-life friendship that has grown through the ups and downs and ins and outs that life hands you through college and career and singleness and marriage and kids. I think I'd have appreciated it without Amber's invitation for participation - but I wouldn't have thought about it so much.

I'm not one who makes friends easily; the doors haven't exactly been thrown open in the relatively closed culture that is our new town. Oh sure, if you go to the right church, or know the right people, you can make relationships. It has been a stretching time for me, a questioning time when I'm not sure I want to be alone, a wait time for God to open doors and provide opportunity to share.

I wonder what new He may have for me in the coming year.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

I glanced up, and there was the morning...

I've been waking early lately, pouring myself into the catching-up thing, trying to finish wedding processing, prep for entertaining visitors, plan a possible move before the baby comes. It's a lot, and when I dig in during the dark that is left on the night, just me puttering away in my lamplit corner, there is nothing else in the world until I raise my eyes above my computer screen and out my window.

And here is God, unwrapping the day, inviting me out of my git-er-done world for a few catch-breaths of wonder, a moment of beauty, a camera-grab to catch the layered colors of His love between the branch-silhouettes that frame the sunrise.

Sharing today with Tuesdays Unwrapped over at Chatting at the Sky.

--------------------------

"Within the next month, what do you think about planning a night to spend with your sisters? ...We’re having our own Sister Parties! What about you? Want to giggle, eat, cry, whatever, and then maybe afterward join us for a little blog party?"


And for a bit more on real relationship, check out yesterday's second post in my authentic relationship series, Owning Truth - From Romantic to Real. To be continued...







(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

A Sister Party

The Run Amuck is hosting a Sister Party, and I'm getting involved.

Within the next month, what do you think about planning a night to spend with your sisters? ...We’re having our own Sister Parties! What about you? Want to giggle, eat, cry, whatever, and then maybe afterward join us for a little blog party?

It's all about encouraging and being encouraged by our flesh-and-blood sisters, because there is just nothing like sitting down for a face-to-face with a good friend.

I'm even racking out a photography giveaway in October as a sponsor!

If you want to get involved and have your own sister party, check out Amber's post and leave her a comment (or five, if you are seriously promoting this thing!) for some really great giveaways. Amber wants to start a "relational revolution." I have to admit, shy as I tend to be, I really like her style!

Oh, and that brings me to a happy point. We've been down here a year in South Carolina, and we spent our first year being a family, learning each other, finding ourselves again, refreshing our spirits. I haven't made very many sister-friends here; the timing just hasn't been right. But God has timed out a friend's visit just for me, only a week after a number of our friends will be in our town for a wedding, so I'm expecting lots of sister-time soon!

--------------------------

And for a bit more on real relationship, check out yesterday's second post in my authentic relationship series, Owning Truth - From Romantic to Real. To be continued...







(Image © Informal Moments Photography and The Run Amuck)

Owning Truth - From Romantic to Real

Part II of my authentic relationship series. Read Part I, The Fact Is, I am Eve Too.

-------------------------

The important thing is, God drew me to Himself through the loss of my first love.

I spent years waiting for God to bring him back to me and heal my heart up; I had watched my ideal become a shadow of the man I knew as God all the while wooed me to Him. It was through this loss that God taught me excruciating honesty with myself - and with Him - about what was in my heart. (Ps. 15:1-2) He asked me to pour myself out to Him, challenged me to bring the whole mess of my heart into my relationship with Him.

It wasn’t as if He didn’t already know what was there – my emotions, my struggle, my misdirected passion. “No brave front, no measuring up, just Kelly,” He overrode my broken-hearted embarrassment, taught me of my own humanity, created in His image to feel His own heart. Long months passed into years, and I found His heart to be the safest place I’d known.

As I grew into this God-love, it became apparent to me that if I were to marry (even the man for whose return I prayed), I would have to be the same person with my husband that I am with God.

Pete - Peter, my now-husband (I am still bashful to say his full name! It's like Jesus, so precious to me, so secret-deep in my heart-space...) - was a coworker that I didn’t know until we got rained into a coffee shop together with the Lord pushing him to ask the real that would cause me to set aside the shallow "deep" to which I’d resigned myself. When he asked about my God-passion and revealed his own, the layers peeled away from my heart with the shock of it. We didn’t stop talking for six months, until he was in love with me and I found hope that I could, indeed, love again.

But the transition between my wait-love for another and my it’s-time-now-love for Pete was shockingly abrupt. Neither of us realized the long healing process ahead for me, and ultimately, for both of us.

I married my husband with a broken heart.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

The Fact is, I Am Eve Too

The mood in the shop is welcoming, the air happy-laden with the warm scent of coffee, the light a comforting, cooling dim from the glare of the summer I leave behind me as I enter. I’m not really here for a warm drink on a hot day. I’m here for conversation, here for relationship, two friends learning one another.

We share who we are, and two hearts meet, and I am changed as I know and as I am known. We talk too long, and not long enough; we leave wanting more, because we are the same. Our camaraderie is born of the different and the familiar, the places I have been are not the same and I am fascinated by what I have not seen, newly aware of where I have not been.

We converse and we relate, and we become more real with each true thing that is spoken. Here, we enter into the life of the other. Eventually, the question comes, “how far will you go with me?”

So much hangs on my response.

Recently several “coffee-shop” friends confessed past affairs. They told of brokenness, of selfishness, of redemption and grace, of poor choices and new, wiser boundaries. Two other friends shared fears and fallout because of their parents’ affair-initiated divorces, explaining personal boundaries they own for the mistakes of their elders.

I have listened in aching silence, mostly.

I don’t understand their secrets, but I understand sorrow. I cannot comprehend sleeping with a man who is not my husband, losing a man to another woman, watching my parents separate over such a thing.

For an uncertain moment, I hold my breath over my coffee cup, realizing I am not the same as they, afraid I have nothing to offer, for my experience is so different.

But still they share in the quiet of this friendship coffee shop, and I know my own sin is often birthed deep in fertile heart-ground, wedging me away from the man who stands beside me, holding back the help-meet love he needs when I am tired, when I want to be someone I am not.

So here is the truth, the authentic me: I am dust, woman made from man. I have tasted the same fruit and if I do not dismiss you with the presumption that I am any better, I may grow with you. I may know you.

The fact is, I am Eve too, and I ask the same questions you ask, wondering at each encounter, “how far will you go with me?”

I release my held-breath as I remember the grace that is mine to give, remember why I know that grace.

---------------------------

Over the course of several upcoming posts, I would like to expand and share this unpublished article on what I have been learning about authentic relationship.

There was so much of my life in this article I had not processed until I began to write it, and I just couldn't ready my thoughts for publication by the time my deadline rolled around. I may spread it out over a couple of weeks, do some regular posting in between, since I'm still focusing my thoughts. If you miss one, you can find the posts by clicking into this labels link.

I'd like to invite you to meet with me in my "coffee shop" either through email or in the comments sections (found in the little speech bubble at the top of my posts now!) on these posts , ask questions, start or join in this conversation. Some of my friends know my story after years of real conversations, some old friends may not know where I have been from where I started, some of my new friends may find opportunity to "know" me more.

*Recommended read: Joy, by Serena Woods





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

it has happened...

And I think I must admit to it. I finally found a good way to keep up with my favorite blogs. I'd been avoiding it. Refusing it. Pushing it off, holding it at bay, despite high praise and recommendations from many good friends.

Yes, I have bought into the RSS idea. The "follow this blog" idea. The "put the link in here and we'll follow it for you and pull up their posts for you when they post" idea.

I hate it when other people are right and I'm just being stubborn to hold out for the familiar. It makes me look rather pathetic.

But this RSS/Following idea, it was a GOOD idea. It saves me SO MUCH time, puts my forty million links in one place, gives me only the blogs that have updated to check, and snippets of those to decide if I even want to check. If I find a new blog, I don't have to weigh it all at once to see if it's worth posting on my site - I can plug the link in and watch it for a while, see how often I read it. And (one of my favorite parts) when I do my updating in the Blogger Dashboard, I can click right in to the blog so all that pretty, original, identifiable design work isn't wasted via email or somebody else's formatting! (Ahem. Google Reader. Feedburner. I'm sure there are others.)

I'm even gonna ask you to consider subscribing to/following me. Look at that. It's in the sidebar for however long my sense of the aesthetic can stand it.

Sigh. I am a weak person.

Okay. I think I can live with that.

and the winner is...

And the early Monday morning winner of my weekend Praise giveaway (completely randomized by a VERY droopy, lap-sitting Piper for your nice winnage today) is Alison! Alison, please contact me with your mailing address, and we will send your print out to you this week!

For those of you who really, really wanted to win this print, I am offering a special, at-cost price (plus shipping) in 5x7, 8x10, 8x12, or larger print. If you are interested, please contact me with your mailing address by next Monday, and I will make an order. (Prices will range between five and ten dollars, even on the larger prints. Like I said, I'm offering them to you at cost. I will confirm price with you if you contact me. )

NOTE: Only those who commented on this post are eligible to take advantage of this special rate. This offer is for a limited time only. Expires Monday, August 24, 2009. (Hee hee! Just had to try that...)

Other orders may be placed under these prices.

Real post coming later...

a more peaceful place

I think that sometimes the heart needs a quiet place, a place unclogged with responsibilities, frustrations, demands. It is here that thoughts get sorted, understanding blossoms, faith grows. In this place, the heart learns to be, and to trust, and to live in the necessary dailiness to which we are bound by time.

It is from this place that I often write, a stolen, quiet allowance out of our daytime schedule for me. Here, the thoughts rise and fall, feelings surge into prose and poetry and find vent and I add simplicity to my day as I pour it all out in words that are sometimes published, sometimes not.

My blog has not been simple lately. Three columns and pictures and text and links and colors that just aren't where I am, who I am, what I want to be. At her blog, Emily offers "a place for the soul to breathe." Ann writes away from the noise, to "create a retreat, build a still chapel."

In the crazy of this summer, as I open my heart again to a new little life, I crave simplicity. I seek out the places that share what I know, Who I know, the safe places that build and entreat and encourage as they softly challenge. I am preparing and simplifying my life; I look for a quieter place for my heart, one that doesn't present an endless list of links, the cluttered double sidebars, the constant detraction from the words I have written and loved.

As old dreams die and new dreams come that I don't yet know, it is time to make a way for a more open space, a softer landing, a simpler place to offer the rambled thoughts that make their way onto my blog.

If you have come here from my old blogsite, I am so excited that you followed me! I hope you stay for a while. I won't be blogging there any longer, so please do change any links/shortcuts you may have for me to http://www.thisrestlesheart.com/.

My next post will mark my thousandth blog post from {this} restless heart, counting (of course) the 998 posts written at my previous site. In honor of the occasion, I'll be hosting a giveaway of some sort!

See you soon!

P.S. The comment link is hiding at the top of my posts now - in the little comment balloon up at the right!

my baby in blue

About two weeks before we discovered Piper was a girl, I saw a photo of a friend's newborn daughter. Something in the photo touched off a desire that wiggled through my stern determination to have a son, but I chose not to acknowledge it, to put my baby girl idea off until our next child. Walking through April with spring all around knowing I was going to have a girl whom I could teach about the beauty around me was the most perfect feeling in the world.

Becoming pregnant with Button came as such a shock. There was no "Good Morning, Daddy," just a half-panicked, "Pete..." as I wandered dazed into the kitchen with the test that read "Pregnant" instead of the "Not Pregnant" I had expected. Less than a week after my discovery, I moved from my Lyme herxheimer into morning sickness, and until I saw my baby at about 12 weeks, it was just more sick I had to face. I slapped a gender onto that ultrasound pic, a safe "girl" guess that wouldn't involve new horizons, new clothing, and three bedrooms for our family.

A couple of months ago, however, another dear friend gave birth to a son, and seeing her pictures left me with the same "different" feeling I had with Piper. I could see myself mothering a son, found myself hoping quietly that this baby would be a boy. This was quite a change from my instant fearful "this must be a girl" reaction to my unexpected pregnancy. All of my dreams were about having a baby boy, twin boys, even an alien baby boy (oy, that was a bad one, but it was still a boy).

I hadn't told anyone about my "girl" feeling about Piper. I was too embarrassed to admit my first insistent guess might be wrong. But this time, I cautiously shared my growing desire with Pete, let my mom know that I had a feeling about it, shared with my sister what I was hoping. I couldn't think of Button as a "she." My prayers and womb chat were for "him" and "he" and "buddy" and "little guy."

So I smiled giddy through yesterday's scan as our little scamp with "boy parts" made the rounds of my uterus, dragging the ultrasound tech around with him. And I am somewhere between tears and laughter and thankful that God gave me my desire, that He had already begun to make this little boy before the desire to hold him began to build inside my heart.

We went shopping last night, and I brought home sleepers in blue and brown and cream and green, folding them and refolding them and sharing them with Piper, who is already learning her "awhhhh."

I can't say my heart is easy opening up to love this little one; I know too much to take the gift of him for granted. Trusting God to hold this desire of mine, this little one who is already not mine - this is hard for me. I know what life can do - I am yet uncertain what God will allow in mine.

It used to require suffering to throw me onto His love, but now, it is His goodness that keeps me in the shadow of His wings, that sends me to His heart with hands that don't want to open. He never said I wouldn't fear, but that He is "I Am," more than human, more than I can know or understand or explain. He Himself is the joy in my desire, the peace in my cautious acceptance of His good gifts.

I imagine I'll have to apologize to Button someday for the pink flowers on the announcement of my pregnancy. But I don't mind.

For you who weighed in with guesses, here is my voting tally (compiled from predictions here, on Facebook, and in person):

Boy: 13
Girl: 10
Twins: 2

I guess those last few "boy" votes (including one from the gal at the hospital who registered us for our ultrasound) must have pushed it over the top, eh?

And now we're on to the naming game. As with Piper, we had the perfect name for the OTHER gender. Submissions and suggestions are welcome!

On Being

It is during my times of greatest change that I feel most threatened at the prospect of losing my identity. Here, the innocent remark from a friend sparks an internal war between truth and my feelings of betrayal. Here, the not-knowing becomes the only enemy, and I fight for control of my destiny. As if I believe I can own my destiny. I want to be, to exist in this void.

And God is "I Am" and I live and move and have my being in Him, and I resent Him for that some days, and others I quietly acknowledge that I am glad to fall into Him and let Him live for me because I'm too tired to hold onto me anymore.

I am like the wind, like the mountains, too free-spirited, too wild, yet I understand that He has made me this way for His purpose, and He does not desire my captivity - merely the love of my whole heart. Merely. I say it as if it is a simple thing, and simple it is, if I will let it be simple, if I will thank Him for the void and trust His creating hand for my today and my yesterday and my tomorrow. He is, after all, the God who makes the crooked paths straight and leads the blind in ways they do not know.

I know I will always be a restless heart, for I am always seeking more of Him and He is always changing my perspective and stepping outside the bigger and bigger boxes I make for Him. His words burn and ache inside of me and bring life that I do not understand and cannot question, and I am broken and whole at once and I ache to see Him as He is so I may be who I am meant to be.

Already, I feel Him creating new love in me, freeing me from my pursuit of one thing so that I know it is all right to pursue another, but the release of that one thing is the release of a part of the being I have assumed, as if I am laying down a part of my armor in my fight for my destiny. I am more exposed, more vulnerable, more able to love, more afraid to give my affirmation than I should be, for I am not truly threatened by those who ask it.

But perfect love casts out fear, and I am new at throwing myself into His love and trusting Him with who I am as the me that knows His voice struggles against the me that must know and control who I am. My testimony is Jesus Christ, and Him crucified, and I am nothing without Him, and everything that I am that is worth anything is Him, because God chose the weak and the fools who would let Him be their God. And He is not ashamed to be their God because they live and move in Him, through all the change and all the being that they didn't choose as they walked by faith that was solid and sure and nothing at all like a blind leap into the dark.

I remember these others who have gone before, my cloud of witnesses, those who spent years with Him in the wilderness before they learned of grace to teach it, who wandered years after Him across plains and desert looking for Canaan, who died believing His promise that He would give them everything they longed for. He waited to give them the promise, but I know the fullness of it in Jesus, and in my own wilderness I learn of His grace for me, and I learn of His grace for others, and vulnerable me learns more of love without fear.

To find rest in Him, this is my destiny, seared upon my soul by the only Word that brings light into darkness and reaps where it seems nothing has been sown. I seek and I don't seek, but every day I am changed, and my heart is changed, and I want to love and to rest here in this void and trust His love for me. Who I am is no longer the point; I cannot define my identity for myself, for He has become more in me than I knew.

All my being is to be found in His "I AM" and, oddly, I don't resent Him for this. What, after all, would I really be without Him?

so... about that commenting lurking thing

I know I have friends who read my blog and don't comment because they don't want their links to be found and clicked. I also know I have linked to some of you on my blog so that I can click in to visit you easily.

I think I have a solution to these uncomfortable issues. (And a note that while *I* am pretty active on here, my statcounter is not telling me that there is that much activity here. I'm just not that popular. Hmm. Familiar feeling. :-P)

But for my friends who don't want to leave a link in a comment:

I have my comments set up so that you can simply type in your name and leave the rest of the spaces blank. You can also comment as anonymous and sign your comment if I will know who you are... :-P

For my friends who may not want to be linked from this page, please drop me an email, and I'll move your link to a private link page that only I can access. I'll be doing this sometime this week. I don't want to lose my links - it's easiest for me to keep up with y'all this way! Also, if you email to ask me to put you on this page, I will not link to your blog in any post of mine.

I want to be courteous to my readers, and I realize that everyone may not be as comfortable putting themselves out there as I am.

taking heart

I know I've said this here before, but I have to say it again. Encouragement means "to give courage." Lately, I've been wrestling with a lot of fear; I'm blogging to keep myself going, to "get back on the horse," if you will, to keep my writing flowing. It may not be particularly deep, or make a lot of sense to anybody but me, but I write because I need to right now, to look my fear in the face and say, "hello, I'm still living, see?"

But something else has been happening lately, besides my fear-fighting. I've gotten a lot of encouragement. Specific, targeted encouragement that says "don't be afraid, God is using you in my life." As a words-of-affirmation person, I can't begin to describe how deep this goes for me. I've wanted to be a gift, and all my life, I've felt as though I am "too much" or "too little." The women who have offered this to me have really given me courage in a time when I have been floundering a bit. Their words have strengthened my heart and reminded me that it is okay to press on.

I want to share the words they have given me that have brought tears and hope and courage to me:

Today, in an email exchange, Laura wrote, "what you write is such as blessing to others. I have been thinking about one of your posts for weeks and weeks--it was about where to draw the line between loving and admiring and working with the beauty the Lord has made without making it all an idol...at least that's what I took away from it. And I definitely needed to read that specific message, and I'm surely not the only one. Really, really good stuff. I don't remember the last time a blog has made me think for literally weeks. So remember that blogging about your deepest, in-self days may at the time feel strange or like too much to you, but know that your writing has an incredible, sanctifying effect on others."

Early last week, I received two comments from Amber on the same post: "Yes! Yes! Yes! I love this. I struggle with bowing to my blog, and there is only one remedy for that... Oh. I forgot to tell you that Emily just bragged and bragged on you. I loved you immediately..." And she emailed me the other day with a wonderful poem she had written about Hosea and what God had shown her about Himself.

Emily, who was bragging on me, posted a lovely directive over to my blog - this gal who is quite noticed in the blogosphere took time to notice me, and loved what I had to say here!

My new Internet friend Alison wrote a similar post after an email exchange we had a few weeks ago, an exchange that left me really worried that I'd overdone it. In a recent email she wrote, "I can't tell you how much your blog and comments on mine have meant to me...I've never befriended anyone who has been as honest as you have been in [regard to relationship with God]. God has seemed to have let us both wander in the wilderness a bit, but what a blessing to find a companion there."

My blog friend Danielle also emailed in response to a letter I had written to her about a rather hasty post of mine that led tothis post, "When I read your words--the words that I questioned--I was concerned because I wasn't sure how to take it. At first I didn't want to respond, because I hate to question anyone in some sort of "confrontation-like" way. Because I couldn't say it in person, where you could hear the inflection of my voice, where I could explain myself. Because I don't "know" you in person and we've not even known each other long via the internet. Because I didn't want to assume anything about what you were saying and take it the "wrong" way. But, God really stirred in my heart that I really needed to say something. I wanted to write in as gracious a way possibly, not knowing your heart or even what you meant to say, only how it appeared to me. Even in doing so, I was afraid you'd be offended. Thank you for not being offended and attempting to hear what I was trying to say. I know God will truly use a heart as humble as yours! It is an example to me. I hope I will be just as humble when someone questions what I have to say..."

And my friend Lynette wrote to me, "Seriously, it is just amazing how people can interpret something you write, into something you didn't write at all. I've come to the conclusion that no matter how careful I am in wording what I want to say, people basically only read what they want to read; they only see what they want to see, they only look for what they are looking for. When that is Christ and His Life, that is wonderful!!! But when they are wanting to justify something, that is a different matter.

Before I even saw your email this morning, Father gave me a parable of this so I suspect He wants me to share it with ya ;-) When I came downstairs this morning I went straight to the blinds in the front room to open them (can't stand dark rooms, gotta let the light in ;-) I looked outside at the blue sky and at a new light on the garage that our landlord installed yesterday then I went into the kitchen. As I was getting a cup of tea the thought came, "Is the snow and ice out the front melted yet?" And y'know, although I had looked out the front just a few minutes before, I didn't know the answer because I hadn't seen it; I hadn't been looking at the ground. I had only seen what I was looking for!!!!

It seemed crazy to me that I could have looked out on that whole scene and yet not remember whether the snow had gone or not, simply because I wasn't looking for it! Even though my eyes would have seen it, the brain didn't register it (scary thought ;-) and it is exactly the same with spiritual things."

There have been more; these are just some of the words that have been playing again and again through my heart lately. These women are all women of God who have reached into my world and deeply, deeply encouraged me, and I am so grateful for them, for Him in them, for how He has placed them in my life - whether through a comment, a post, an email, a conversation - I am so blessed, and I have been so encouraged. I know it sounds like I'm just tooting my own horn here, but I mean to toot theirs - you can see from these words how lovely these women are, reaching outside of themselves to touch my life!

So what about you? What has encouraged you recently? I'd love to hear, to see what else God is doing! Has someone offered you encouragement lately to press on? What did they say?

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver. (Proverbs 25:11)

garlic chicken avocado club, or...

Feel free to copy or print - we just made this one up!

Credit: The "DDO" designation came from our friend Gabe and his family when we served it to them just before he left our neck of the woods for his new job in the wild woolly west.

Through it All (and a bit of random)

Today, I did dishes and stew and biscuits and laundry, and I made up a blog header for a friend and mother of two who blogs about being strong through it all - military life, parenting, and everything else. Stop over and check out her blog!


And my friend Lynette sent me a terrific article about why NOT to do the 25 Things Facebook meme that I have been putting off because I don't have time to *think* of my random. I tell my friends that I'm usually not able to be shallow until I have been deep, and deep hasn't been my specialty over the last couple of weeks when I have gotten about 25 tags for the 25 things thing. I am refusing to cave at the moment. I have enough random stuff to keep me busy!

So now that I've established that, I shall note that I also did a bit of revamping on this blog today so I could post larger images and make it a bit easier to read and access.

And I was thinking a bit while doing dishes this morning and came up with some blog post ideas that I know I won't have time to flesh out, so I'll tease your imaginations and see what you think:

I think that Christians have a tendency to look at one another for what God wants. The community He gave us in one another was for encouragement, for us to share what we know of Him with each other. Sometimes, I think He gives us different convictions that challenge others' perspectives on Him. Sometimes, I think He calls us out to be alone with Him, to find Him. Sometimes, He asks us to believe something that no one else believes. Just because no one else believes is doesn't mean He doesn't want us to believe it. Too often, we set aside our faith in HIM and our pursuit of this very unsafe God for creeds and doctrinal statements and "agreement" that is really just a defining box to help us feel safe. If you clicked on that link, you'll see what community is meant to be - going together to give ourselves into His hands.

(And actually, that was more of a blog post than I intended, and I'm leaving it in one paragraph, and this is that for today!)

(Oh, and be sure and stop by my photography blog to see my photo of the day. It's nothing terribly special, but I liked it and I am too tired to go find something else.)

(And I actually have to add another parenthetical for my wonderful husband the Jeopardy whiz who came home on time tonight and made dinner for us and isn't minding my taking time here to put up a post for you. At some point, I really need to get him to blog HIS 25 things idea... Anyway, he's awesome and I'm gonna say it, and if I wanted to get romantic, I'd post a photo, but you won't see me doing that here, now will you?)

Impressions

I've been watching these white blossoms for a couple of weeks, wondering if they were old leaves or blossoms. On cloudy days, I was *sure* they were just old dead leaves that hadn't fallen, and on sunny days, I *knew* they were flowers. I finally pulled out my zoom lens this morning and "visited" the tree, which lives two backyards down from us.

They were blossoms after all. Regardless of my impressions, they were always blossoms, promising spring in winter, silver in the gloom, bridal white in the light, offering something lovely.

People are like that, too, I think. They are who they are, no matter what light I view them in. I just can't always see them clearly, so sometimes I dismiss them because they're just "old leaves." It's a good thing that God offers a zoom lens every once in a while so I can see what really is there when the sun comes out!

Interesting how the zoom doesn't work up close...