I'm doing the mommy thing today...

And I'm a little short on words. Thought I'd share my new desktop background. It's worth a couple thousand, I should think.

And have a song about them too: Bubbly, by Colbie Caillat





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

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)

Not Yet Ready, But Love...

Having a little driving time is good for me. I think better as the world passes by, with the movement of car on pavement, with music and lyrics of God-songs telling and retelling about Him, about life, about me.

On my way from my midwife appointment yesterday (at which I discovered that all the contractions I've had haven't been for nothing - I was 4cm dilated!), I was listening again to Vicky Beeching's song, Captivated.

"May my life be one unbroken gaze fixed upon the beauty of Your face..."

Her lyric got caught in the web that is my pregnant brain and took a rabbit trail into the video I shared in the link above.

Instead of seeing myself gazing at Jesus, I saw Him living His life, engaging with others, pursuing and treasuring relationship. I saw how much He valued the ones He loved.

I'm not one to rush out and do things for the sake of doing them. Most of the time, I simply don't have the resources to pour me out the way I often feel that I must. But sometimes, I hold myself back from giving of myself, unready in my heart or in my sense of the proper timing, unwilling to be a hypocrite for the sake of appearances, willing to sacrifice my image for authenticity.

As I looked at Jesus' interactions with those in His life, I couldn't help but acknowledge how little I look like Him sometimes. He poured Himself out ALL the time, it seemed. I am lucky if I can admit to doing it at all for my family.

Mentally, I was ready to check out from this train of thought. There was too much room for guilt, for inadequacy, for failure, for condemnation.

But in His way (God is so gentle with me, it's astounding...), He brought my vision to Cana, in view of Jesus' face when His mother brought the wine situation to Him. I heard His voice, a little strained, unready and uncalled to display Himself in the ministry that would soon consume His whole life.

On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Now both Jesus and His disciples were invited to the wedding. And when they ran out of wine, the mother of Jesus said to Him, “They have no wine.”

Jesus said to her, “Woman, what does your concern have to do with Me? My hour has not yet come.”

His mother said to the servants, “Whatever He says to you, do it.”

Now there were set there six waterpots of stone, according to the manner of purification of the Jews, containing twenty or thirty gallons apiece. Jesus said to them, “Fill the waterpots with water.” And they filled them up to the brim. And He said to them, “Draw some out now, and take it to the master of the feast.” And they took it.

When the master of the feast had tasted the water that was made wine, and did not know where it came from (but the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom. And he said to him, “Every man at the beginning sets out the good wine, and when the guests have well drunk, then the inferior. You have kept the good wine until now!”

- John 2:1-10

"My hour has not yet come." It is not yet time... I'm not ready...

Yet for love of her, for her trust in His provision, He gave of Himself in spite of it.

I am too often afraid of Jesus until I look into His love.

I may not have much to give right now; I may be unsure of timing, uncertain of my own heart, of the depth of my love for God and for my family.

But I have been given an earthen-vessel Treasure that He means to pour out - how do I know it won't be the best wine at the wedding?

...

Today is my second "Leftovers" post, and MckLink-up for readers to share your own reposts. I posted the above post at 2:00 a.m., December 17, 2009, two hours before my water broke for Bredon's birth. Obviously, this post got a little overlooked in the "I'm in labor" and "We had a baby!" hoopla. It is one that keeps coming back for me, though so I thought I would post it a bit more currently.

NOTE - I am offering "Leftovers" as an opportunity to justify reposting a post you love. You're welcome to join this carnival of original unoriginality (since you've already said it!) here at my blog - just follow the steps below:

*REPOST a favorite blog post at your blog
*Please kindly INCLUDE A LINK to my blog in your repost ;-)
*LINK the direct link for your repost (not the original post) into the McLinky I will provide here.
*LEAVE A COMMENT so I know you're there.

Hopefully, in two weeks, when I host "Leftovers" again (yeesh, people, if you have a nicer, more poetic, romantic name for it, leave a comment - NOBODY likes leftovers, right?), I will try and have an irresistible button for you (with CODE!) to add to your repost.







(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

What's In His Name?

Her name was Bethany.

It was such a big deal that her name was Bethany. It still stands out in my mind. I get into names.

She said that God had given her that name.

She said that she had known God intimately, the way I wanted to know Him.

She said that God had taught her to surrender fully and completely.

She said a lot of things.

But she never mentioned the name of Jesus.

...

Want the rest of the story? I'm guest-posting for @katdish today. Click over to "Hey Look, a Chicken!" to find out how God used my encounter with Bethany to reveal my own incredible need for Jesus.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Haiku for (in)Courage

I know I missed the deadline. I missed the post, to be honest. But I can't resist the invitation from Robin at (in)Courage.

...

sunlit silver streaks
old woman tossing her hair
caressing crystal

...

And that is all she wrote.






(Image © SXC)

Rain Song

It's raining today. Seems like it's raining everywhere, as if the sky is falling with all the tears of all the loss that I see at the edges of my world right now.

It's always harder to hope in the rain.

Rain

It's hard to listen to a hard hard heart
Beating close to mine
Pounding up against the stone and steel
Walls that I won't climb
Sometimes a hurt is so deep deep deep
You think that you're gonna drown
Sometimes all I can do is weep weep weep
With all this rain falling down

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

Its hard to know when to give up the fight
Two things you want will just never be right
Its never rained like it has tonight before
Now I don't wanna beg you baby
For something maybe you could never give
I'm not looking for the rest of your life
I just want another chance to live

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm holding on underneath this shroud
Rain

Strange how hard it rains now
Rows and rows of big dark clouds
When I'm still alive underneath this shroud
Rain Rain Rain

Patty Griffin, Rain

"My comfort in my suffering is this: Your promise preserves my life." (Ps. 119:50)

He still bottles our tears.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Clean, Important - and Worth Doing

She always felt it when the train went underground - this sense of eagerness, of hope and of secret excitement. It was as if normal existence were a photograph of shapeless things in badly printed colors, but this was a sketch done in a few sharp strokes that made things seem clean, important - and worth doing.

- Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged (p. 25)

This is the nature of the New Year. The nature of this new life into which I have been thrown. The fresh, the clear - they take me forever to sort. I have mental lists. I make small goals.

Lots of them:


*Getting out of my pajamas
*Getting Piper and Bredon changed and dressed.
*And feeding, the kids must be fed.
*Making the bed is a huge accomplishment. It is made today.
*A shower (without Pete in the house) is a bonus
*Making meals for myself
*Taking my pills

And there are other goals, bonus goals, the

*writing a post for the day
*visiting my online friends while babies nap
*cleaning out my inbox
*grabbing a photo here, a photo there
*figuring out the paypal so we can order my new computer so I can
*process my photos and
*fix my html code in my blog template (oy!)

I move in circles, slow circles.

My mental lists tangle with the hearts in this house. I keep quiet, breathing slow and trying patient, staying me for them, for me, for you. I try not to panic when everything goes crazy at once. "Just do the next thing."

The next thing that meant an ER visit Tuesday to find out that I have gallstones and need to have my gall bladder removed. Which means that I have to add to my list

*researching gall bladder and lyme treatment issues
*calling people who know
*planning different meals to stay healthy and push off surgery
*praying for wisdom and timing with my breastfeeding baby
*crying. I want that on the list. It hasn't happened yet.

And I added worrying yesterday.

My major goal yesterday was to clean and vacuum the living room before Pete arrived home. And maybe do the dishes. Which was his goal. If I did them, he would probably find something else to do. But I didn't get them done. He did. And we made dinner. And we had had a small, quiet window that felt sane. It felt like us.

I do have other goals. Long term goals. Small goals. Things I can see happening. Things that might not happen, but I'd like to try for them anyway:

*learning how to make Lightfoot Creamy Tomato Soup
*reading to my children
*creating a flash website for my photography

And then there is the grateful and the happy things to list that I breathe in and out and barely have time to count, the

*baby scent in my nose
*IV without dextrose
*sun in my eyes as I type (oh, it is beautiful, isn't it?)
*numerous comments and emails from friends
*enough milk
*love that goes around what doesn't fit in my arms
*sponge baths
*showers with my toddler
*hope that surgery may help the Lyme
*quality time with my husband, even in the ER
*eyes to see
*gasping astonished moments because God chose me to know Him
*phone calls with my mother, my friend, my new confidante
*a love story God wrote
*little girl time
*visits from family with perfect timing
*emails from friends I didn't know I had
*emails from friends I do know
*courage
*prayers
*familiar
*new
*toddler messes and imagination
* "yes" that lights up little girl eyes
*baby smiles that light me up
*naptimes to hide in kitchen and gain perspective
*light that falls across my bed into my rocker and onto my son
*the sound of baby breathing at night - one on each side of me

And my not-alone, those friends who have taken the time to offer me their "I see you..." in these last weeks of silent crazy:

*Ann who has so often given to me
*Lyla, a fellow introvert who emails and offers
*Anne, who followed God into my life
*Sarah, who found rest in my restless
*Corinne, who knows and cries and comments
*Maureen

Love Does That

All day long a little burro labors, sometimes
with heavy loads on her back and sometimes just with worries
about things that bother only
burros.

And worries, as we know, can be more exhausting
than physical labor.

Once in a while a kind monk comes
to her stable and brings
a pear, but more
than that,

he looks into the burro's eyes and touches her ears
and for a few seconds the burro is free
and even seems to laugh,

because love does
that.

Love frees.

- from Love Poems from God by Daniel Ladinsky

*Cassandra

I considered putting this in an email, but then I thought it might encourage someone else by being here.

Beauty heals. Beauty restores. Beauty is somehow deeper and more powerful than all of the other things we know to be true about our life in the fallen world. Even when
we don't have the answers yet and when life is not organized properly, if we can stop for beauty, however simple, every day, it can do an amazing work of grace on us.

I've noticed that beauty means much to you and that it charges your personal battery like it does mine.

Every time it happens, I'm astounded at how much beauty restores and strengthens me, even when my problems are not yet solved.

But I have to be deliberate about seeking it. Beauty doesn't just come to me often enough to nourish me in the hungry places. I have to search for it and arrange for it.

So here's a prescription: take a beauty vitamin once a day. A picture you adore, a vase of flowers (especially in winter), a bird on the window, music that soars, a book of poetry. As much as possible, surround yourself with it. Don't feel that you have to "earn it" by getting to a place where you feel like there is room for it. Just do it now, in the midst of the mess and the confusion and the sense of being overwhelmed.

I wish -- how I wish -- someone had told me this when I had babies.

I hope it helps.

*Laura, who tells me I'll capture the sky
*Elise, who sends prayers and wonderful advice

And you, my friend, with your world weaving in and out of new son and helper daughter and less sleep and heart-cracking love... I've been meaning to pop in and share something...

Every time I see Gideon and his stiff-step walk turning the corner into his sister's room, and I hear her shriek of excited laughter as she runs to pull him in and hands him a toy and begins jabbering to him, I've thought of you lately. I've tried to instill in Eliana a *peace* about her brother being around... to point out how very much he loves her and admires her and wants to be with her. And so far, I haven't once heard her ask him to leave her room. (except when she's changing! :)

So I wanted to share... cultivate that love between Piper and Bredon. Constantly point out, Oh, he loves you! See him look at you! and exaggerate... Oooooh, Bredon, look at sissy's (or whatever you're calling her to him- Pip?) toy, or book, or dress- isn't it beautiful? Isn't it fun? Thank you, sissy!

Gideon is alight, Eliana is alight, and I'm loving their relationship.

May He give you eyes to see, my friend. (And may I add that I'm praying you into the Light, in this time of potential dark...)

*Jennifer, who listens and feels what I feel
*Jessica, who shares in this time
*Faith, who gave me courage to trust
*Bonnie, who prays and writes simply what I can't always say
*Glynn, who gives helpful courage and kind affirmation
*Holley, who asked for my heart at (in)courage
*Heidi, who asks how I am every day, who is blogging again
*Arianne, who wrote to me even in her own sadness - in spite of my joy

I leave you with a happy award today, given to me just last night by another friend, Amy at Haven Space. If you like, consider yourself tagged (but I don't have time for memes right now... *wink*)

And there are more of you; if I were to write out the words that are living in my heart and giving me courage, I'd be writing all day, and I started this post yesterday. You have given me so much extra courage. I have felt your prayers. I wish I had time and energy to encourage you all in return.

Normally, I have a plan. A prayer, really. Something specific to ask God for. But here I am two weeks into the New Year, and I can't begin to nail down anything specific. Maybe I would ask for

*relationship
*patience
*tenderness
*one day at a time, because I can't live a whole year at once right now

But I don't really know what to ask. My prayers are mostly wordless right now, the aching, breathing, tearing-up kind that wend their way past ceiling into atmosphere that is not comprehensible by flesh and blood.

Ann suggested naming the new year. The only name that has come is Immanuel. This year offers me time, hope that I will

*look for Jesus as God with us
*speak more of the Gospel than I have
*pursue His heart in caring for other hearts

It is not much; it is so much. I laugh at that statement. My whole life is such a paradox right now.

I have thought many times in the past few days how we live in the mind, and I want to stay awake, to live for what isn't tangible, even as the tangible calls me into itself with baby cries and dishes and laundry and food. Really living is a miracle.

I think only God could figure out how we can do this and learn to love Him. There is so much that is worth doing. I only know what to do in the moment meant for it.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Disorientation, Some Housecleaning, A Photo I Love - and a Feature

I've been disoriented today. My whole world feels a little off-kilter. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, or the fact that I haven't taken my pills today, or the hormones doing the spiral thing. One minute I'm absolutely manic trying to finish something; the next I'm ready for tear-relief - the kind that having a good cry can give you.

I spent the morning working on photography-related stuff while Piper and Bredon napped (I guess we're ALL catching up on sleep, eh?), and this afternoon saw the house-cleaning. Nothing too thorough, but at least it looks like my house again.

I don't have a real post myself today, but I officially joined High Calling Blogs yesterday (the badge has been on my sidebar for a while), and strange enough, they chose yesterday to feature the above photo on Billy Coffey's HCB post about the journeys our children may take.

How much God entrusts to us - His heart for the lives of our children...

Check out the post, and consider joining HCB yourself. I've had so much fun already getting to know the people there!





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Bredon's Story - My Season of Advent

The new year has come, but it is the old that still draws my attention, for it seems time has slowed, stopped for me in the new blue eyes of a baby, in the uncertain brown eyes of a toddler too suddenly grown. I scrabble about through memories and dreams - old and new - sorting what is, what has been, what is coming to be.

The several posts listed below are my birth story, sorted as I can sort it for now for sharing, for remembrance. I have linked in a number of older, related posts for my reference, so I don't end up rewriting things I have already said here. You don't have to read them all, but they're here if you'd like a little more back-story.

I hope you enjoy.

...

Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

For My Reference (and yours, if you like!)

A to-do list of December-related posts I've been meaning to write, or am planning to get to in the next few weeks or have written already that you may have missed. I need to write it out, or I will forget my brain things while I'm being so greedy living the memories I've got at my fingertips...

*Crazy Christmas
*Christmas Photos Set the First
*Christmas Photos Set the Second
*Christmas Photos Set the Third
*Christmas Sunset (at my photography blog)

*Transition (A post about Bredon's birth)
*A poem about sun on snow and the light in Virginia

*Quotes from Annie Dillard's Teaching a Stone to Talk (which I finally finished after stopping three pages from end when my water broke...)

*Thoughts for the New Year (as soon as I get around to thinking them)
*Pondering with Mary (because I know she must have pondered past Christmas)
*The Redemption of Eve
*My Christmas Meditations on the Incarnation (very real this year)

*Crossing my fingers for a funny piano video my brother shot of Pip and her cousin

*I also have a couple of upcoming guest posts in other places too!

I'm seriously needing some non-frenetic time to put words to this stuff ramming around in my head. On that note, I'll be waking baby to cuddle now...





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

"Acknowledge Him in All Your Ways..."

Today I am reminded of a song. It's on replay at the moment in my mind. I can't help the music, no matter how still I try to be, I can't turn it off.

Gratitude, by Nichole Nordeman

Send some rain, would You send some rain?
'Cause the earth is dry and needs to drink again
And the sun is high and we are sinking in the shade
Would You send a cloud, thunder long and loud?
Let the sky grow black and send some mercy down
Surely You can see that we are thirsty and afraid
But maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case ...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to thirst for You
How to bless the very sun that warms our face
If You never send us rain

Daily bread, give us daily bread
Bless our bodies, keep our children fed
Fill our cups, then fill them up again tonight
Wrap us up and warm us through
Tucked away beneath our sturdy roofs
Let us slumber safe from danger's view this time
Or maybe not, not today
Maybe You'll provide in other ways
And if that's the case ...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
A lesson learned to hunger after You
That a starry sky offers a better view
If no roof is overhead
And if we never taste that bread

Oh, the differences that often are between
Everything we want and what we really need

So grant us peace, Jesus, grant us peace
Move our hearts to hear a single beat
Between alibis and enemies tonight
Or maybe not, not today
Peace might be another world away
And if that's the case ...

We'll give thanks to You with gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace ...

But, Jesus, would You please ...

It is not raining today, though it is gray, gray, gray.

I don't know how to pray right now beyond that aching please... But He does give, and has given where I haven't asked. I'm trying to remember this today, trying to draw near, trying to trust.

Realizing that He knows, has already known this today-journey of my heart toward His...

*66: Saturday roses and little girl "smells"

*67: Christmas gift pretties

*68: Sleep for tired

*69: Morning that comes

*70: Quiet hours

*71: Humble

*72: God who sees

*73: Conversations with my mom who has been here before

*74: Sweet potato hash browns with eggs for breakfast

*75: Hunger for more

*76: Learning God-stillness

*77: More than I remember

*78:"Okie" and "Pe Pan" and "'Cle Kate"

*79: Friends who encourage

*80: Knowing He is enough.

"A man’s heart plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps." (Proverbs 16:9)

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


This post also linked at Holy Experience, sharing with the Gratitude Community in listing my own One Thousand Gifts.





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Between

Between them, you almost don't believe it's happening. Not to you. Not now. "It didn't happen before," you say, and you go on with normal.

But they insist, and then they overtake you, overcome you, and there is nothing else in the world, no one else but you, the pain, the wordless poem about life. You start to rest, take the mental reprieve between, preparing, accepting the inevitable, relaxing into change.

They are real now; you almost don't believe, but their strength keeps building and you know it is just a foreshadowing of a straining, breathless end - that is not an end at all; it is a beginning.

Life stops moving in between. Time freezes; there is too much eternal at stake to notice the seconds ticking by. The same seconds you can't help but notice as you notice everything. Your life flashes before your eyes. It is not what it was five minutes ago, you are not who you were then either - Can any of this be possible?

You dangle on this spinning spider's thread between now and forever and impatience and too soon, and it comes and it goes and it rises and falls and morning comes before you realize, and you'll be in your own skin again.

The stars are falling tonight. The rain is falling. Is the sky falling too? Suspended below heaven, you are falling too, hoping - hoping God knows, He's near, He'll catch you between.

Slowly you open the door. The between is now again.

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

I've been reading through Annie Dillard's "Teaching a Stone to Talk" this week before bed. I've been loving it. I think my stream-of-consciousness is picking up her voice a bit. Forgive me, please, if it's a travesty.

More to come, I am sure.





(Image © SXC)

Stolen Moment - Unwrapped

She fell asleep on me the other day.

This is normal, our afternoon nap routine. I turn on a movie or a TV show that bores her to sleep and keeps me on the couch for a couple of hours to rest. I'm not so good at sitting down and resting.

But the waking - that was different.

She turned toward me with a soft, happy gasp as she opened her eyes. "Mommy?"

I smiled and told her "I'm here."

And she smiled back and cuddled into me with one of her sweetest hugs, perfectly content to be with me.

It doesn't happen often. I unwrap it again and again.

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

My friend Emily at Chatting at the Sky hosts a weekly "noticing" party - giving us a chance to unwrap and share the little gifts (and the big ones!) God gives to us in the midst of our dailiness.

It is good for me, this learning to notice Him.

Do you have a gift to unwrap today? Stop on by and link up with Emily, and share in the (mostly) paperless unwrapping!





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Bits and Pieces - Some Wednesday Randomnity

Because right now, I really have no energy for profound.

*I've had this song stuck in my head since yesterday. Sometimes the melodies just won't leave, regardless of any lyric-disagreements I may have (I can give you so many examples of this, you'd laugh at my endless quibbles over semantics. But then, at least you'd know I'm consistent about it, even with myself...). Don't worry, though, you can listen to it. It's just Josh Groban being a sap about stuff. Makes a nice background noise.

*We had a double weekend here, with Pete and Piper sick. It's almost funny, the new noises in the house - "snork," "hack, haurauck," "wheeze," "bark boark," "sniffle-glug," "arroo-roo-roo." They BOTH snore at night now, too! There's entirely too much slime, and we're almost out of Kleenex. Which we bought in bulk at Sam's.


This is the awake picture of Piper. Her eyes haven't been this open since yesterday morning. She is SO looped out right now...


*Pete finally made it into work today after working at home yesterday, firing on two of six cylinders (should I give him eight?), but hey, it's progress. I am grateful that this virus isn't a stomach-hitter. I've not been able to handle THAT gross since I got pregnant. (Yeah, I know, my time is coming...)


*Me, I've only had a bit of post-nasal drip so far. No headaches, sneezing, or coughing. I guess I was taking better care of me than I thought. This, of course, means that I am available to take care of my two and focus on my own "health" issue, the upcoming expulsion of one Button Sauer from inside to out. And after this Thursday, we can plan for soon.

*I dreamed last night we had him before Thursday. (I have these weird pregnancy dreams in which I deliver early - they are always way freaked out. In the last one, I delivered an egg that hatched an alien and the midwives became federal agents wearing hazmat suits in some version of Area 51. We ruled out a name after that one.) We forgot to call our midwife until I realized the baby wasn't eating - okay, I was forgetting to nurse him - and then the dream segued into a whole new show in which my sister inherited a tropical island and we were trying to help her get the people who were on the island to pay her rent so she'd have an income. In the meantime, it kept raining buckets, and I was trying to keep the baby dry and fed. I think I really should stop sleeping.

*We don't have any full-length mirrors in the house, because the cats were playing in our room one day and knocked the tall one over but GOOD. Lucky them - 14 years of bad luck between them (this is assuming we let them live that long.). I never saw something so funny as the two of them streaking out of the bedroom and taking immediate refuge in the large kennel they normally hate. Anyway, it's hilarious to me to realize how pregnant I am. I look in the mirror that reveals me from about chest up, and I look just like I did before I got pregnant (with longer hair, yay!). I may feel ready to pop sometimes, but I don't know that I look it until I go out in public and people are stopping in their tracks to ask me when the baby is coming. In the dressing room the other day, I cracked myself up looking at the full mirror - WHEN did THAT happen? I'm wearing an extra-large basketball on my front. Kinda wish it was that air-filled weight...


*I set up the baby's bed (soft bedding and blankets and a borrowed-from-his-big-sister Pooh Bear), and we're garnering the rest of our labor supplies (we're doing a home birth again, for those who are curious) at the same time we're trying to figure out and finalize Christmas. Really, we need to get out TODAY if we're going to finish our gifts this weekend, as we've planned. I forgot about Black Friday.


*On Sunday, we also set up our Christmas tree - artificial and pre-lit. Neither the cats nor the kid have knocked it down yet. This is an improvement over previous years.

*Finally, since I'm rather uninteresting today, you should really check out some other peoples who have more wonderful things to say:

- Jesus, on the Work of God

- It Was Bound To Happen from Ghana Girl, a friend who is watching God's work firsthand.

- It started with an idea, an attempt at being less careless with our much. We knew that if we started giving some things up, just small things, over some months we’d have hundreds of dollars. So we quit coffee and we stopped staring at clearance tags at Target. We kept a tally through our weeks of what we refrained from spending. Then we’d meet and we’d ask what did you give up and then we’d share and talk about how we weren’t missing anything. Then we’d say God you have to tell us who to give this money to and we were so excited.

Christmas Change - there is SO much good stuff here. Before you head out into the Black Friday mania, consider where else you might give instead.

- Check out a Wordless Wednesday post (with an opportunity to share!) from a gal who knows how to make the COOLEST stuff out of what I do. It's the coolest "next step" I've ever seen! I'm so totally going to recommend her work to future photography clients.

- A delightful (and frugal) recipe for orange curd - with a giveaway! I'm totally digging oranges right now. I really want to try it!

- Five Pies and a Lulav - Sharing Thanksgiving traditions (that we, of course won't be incorporating this year, because at this stage, we'll be thankful to breathe and TASTE whatever food we come up with. Current thought: Lasagna...)

- This post has had me thinking since I ran across it the other day - who do you say He is?

P.S. If you want to pray for my sanity to resurface, that'd be okay. Right now, I think it is in hiding. Of course, if you enjoy my insane, you could just ignore the request. ;-)





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

When I Grow Old

I want to grow old
as October eases into November into
December and back again into Spring,
gracious in gray, clad in winter's first

white

as a bride wears a dream on her wedding day.

....

I want to find beauty
in windswept snow-ridges
on hands that were smooth and smile
at mirror-face
with unchanged eyes
the same soul peering out,

a little wise
a little joyful
a little seasoned with
some Christmas spice and a bit of blizzard passion

invigorated

like peppermint meeting brisk winter wind in the new year.

....

I want not to die
before breath slows - and stops,
leaving flesh wrapped in allspice,
red earth-petals peeled, hibiscus layer of
fallen dust lingering sweet as kisses for
those I have loved alive, while in death

I live anew in
April fullness, in
summer glory, in
autumn memory, my spirit rising on spring

life-breezes

like a kite in a scented wind embraces the whole sky.

....

I want finally to dwell full alive
in I AM who is

Beginning
and
End
and
Eternal,

passing like the seasons at winter's end
from shade-limitation into full exposure,
bathed in new God-glory,

beginning

as a wizened babe breathes first breath on its birth-day.

....

for this I was born, for this
I live.

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

Written in response to L.L. Barkat's poetry prompt - Fruits, Herbs & Spices (and the occasional snap pea & golden beet). A bit of a play on words took this from spices to seasonings to seasons, but I thought I would submit it anyway. Just something I've been thinking about.






(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Dry

the clothes were dry and put away
days ago;
now afternoon will have its way,
making clean,
making bright,

drying wood after rain.

Repost from the photography blog (Jan. 16, 2009)





(Image © Informal Moments Photography)

Under Grace

Growing in Grace

Does "growing in grace" mean that I am to grow in my understanding of grace, or does it mean that I am to grow up into Christ covered by grace? Perhaps it's both, for growing in my understanding of grace is essential to releasing myself into it for God to complete His work, perfecting in me the image of His Son.

Therefore, beloved, looking forward to these things, be diligent to be found by Him in peace, without spot and blameless; and consider that the longsuffering of our Lord is salvation—as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given to him, has written to you, as also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things, in which are some things hard to understand, which untaught and unstable people twist to their own destruction, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures.

You therefore, beloved, since you know this beforehand, beware lest you also fall from your own steadfastness, being led away with the error of the wicked; but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

To Him be the glory both now and forever. Amen.

- 2 Peter 3:14-18

To Him Be the Glory

Sometimes I wonder what effect my choices really have on what God thinks of me. I don't think He needs me to be one way or another - after all, I didn't choose Him - He chose me. Not only did He choose me, He called me out for His own glory, just as He did not call others out for His own glory.

Pete and I have been reading through Genesis with Piper before bed. She's not really interested yet - Abraham and Isaac and Jacob are right up there with Mickey Mouse and Curious George in her estimation. While she may not be engaged, her parents have been talking a bit about the lives of these three men.

Abraham had a relationship in which he walked with God. Isaac seemed to do okay without thinking much about it. Then there was Jacob, who really was a scumbag when Esau appeared to have a sense of honor. Yet God said elsewhere, "Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated."

Why would God choose a deceiver like Jacob? Why would He appear as an anonymous man and wrestle with him, tell Jacob he had prevailed against God and man, bless him and care for him, even though he was pretty self-focused and disinterested in relationship with God, except when he needed Him?


A Relational Center

When I was growing up, I asked my dad what made us different from other people who believed in God - what set us apart from the "religious" and authenticated our faith? His answer, "We have a personal relationship with the Lord."

I know now that is a more radical concept than I believed then. Even people who talk about "personal relationship" are too often focused on a legalized approach to "right and wrong" without considering our Helper, the Holy Spirit, sent for us after Jesus' return to heaven. So many churches I have attended preach right and wrong, simply assuming God-relationship. But the insidious fact of this legalism is the neglect of the Gospel, and the Gospel is everything.

The whole point of Jesus' Cross-work was to reconcile us for relationship with God. This relationship is made possible by His Spirit, speaking to us the mind of the Father, teaching us eternal things Jesus didn't have time to teach in His short ministry here on earth.

Too many times, I have wasted spirit-energy in self-searching instead of trusting God to search my heart as only He can do. Too many times, I have trolled down a do/don't list that tells me how to make God happy with me instead of reconciling myself dead to sin and alive to God.

Too many times, I have overlooked the fact that I have been crucified with Christ. Instead, I choose to wear a sin-cloak that is no longer mine to wear, thinking that I can get light out of an LED flashlight I'm throwing randomly around in the dark.


What Shall We Say, Then?

The choice that is left to me is not simply right or wrong. It is life or death. If I believe Jesus, I may choose to consider myself dead to sin and alive to God, or I may choose to subject myself again to a yoke of bondage.

God has much to do in me yet, but He knows and remembers what I often forget in my sincere but sometimes-too-pressured desire to please Him - that I am dust. That my dust cannot handle all of His Godness at once.

I need to grow beneath the shelter of Christ-grace: my death His, my sin His, His righteousness mine, His life mine. Even my faith is not of myself - it is the gift of God - and why should He have chosen to bestow it on me?





(Images © Informal Moments Photography)

In All Circumstances

Be joyful always, pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
- 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Being thankful does not come easily to me. Prayer is not always easy either, as it becomes less about the words I say and more about the ache in my heart that does not know how to pray as it ought. Sometimes the concrete is limited to a description of my circumstances.

When I first became ill, collapsing for months on end without a diagnosis, I learned to live outside my circumstances. I learned that the "concrete" I had taken for granted too often blurred together in an endless cycle of shattering disappointments.

One day that year, as a winter afternoon blurred rose-gold into lavender twilight, I poured out my tears and my frustration, asking God why I needed to live anymore? The life I was living was no life at all, and it was nothing that I had dreamed.

The answer came in a song I had sung recently:

When I look into Your holiness
When I gaze into Your loveliness
When all things that surround become shadows
In the light of You

I worship You, I worship You
The reason I live is to worship You

When I've found the joy of reaching Your heart
When my will becomes enthralled in Your love
When all things that surround become shadows
In the light of You

The worship, my appreciation of God as God, became a focus, a center for me then. As words and reasons and lists of things for gratitude fell away, I began to see that if my whole world fell apart He would still be God. His Presence became sanctuary, His heart my refuge.

I’ve been feeling kind of restless
I’ve been feeling out of place
I can hear a distant singing
A song that I can’t write
And it echoes of what I’m always trying to say

There’s a feeling I can’t capture
It’s always just a prayer away
I want to know the ending
Things hoped for but not seen
But I guess that’s the point of hoping anyway

Of going home, I’ll meet you at the table
Going home, I’ll meet you in the air
And you are never too young to think about it
Oh, I cannot wait to be home

I’m confined by my senses
To really know what you are like
You are more than I can fathom
And more than I can guess
And more than I can see with you in sight

But I have felt you with my spirit
I have felt you fill this room
And this is just an invitation
Just a sample of the whole
And I cannot wait to be going home

Going home, I’ll meet you at the table
Going home, I’ll meet you in the air
And you are never too young to think about it
Oh, I cannot wait to be going, to be going home

Face to face, how can it be?

'Cause this is just an invitation
Just a sample of the whole
And I cannot wait to be going home...

- Sara Groves, Going Home(Click title to listen.)

After knowing this nearness, the things in my life sometimes don't mean enough to me for gratitude. Really, there aren't words to describe His Godness. I measure His goodness and realize how limited is my perspective.

Thirteen: Spiced Orange Cheese Blintzes I had been craving for weeks. (Recipe to follow soon.)

Fourteen: A little unexpected money to help with a Christmas tree for dreams and light and special before Button comes.

Fifteen: Tiny pink boots and sweet, sweet memories found during weekend cleaning.

Sixteen: Bright, bright sunspots on fresh-mopped floors.

Seventeen: Little girl mischief that comes out in a smile. Irrepressible, precocious, so precious.

Eighteen: Carwashes and rushing water and silly faces on an adventure with Mom and Dad.

Nineteen: "Happy" and "Sad" and "Loopy" and "Sleepy" playing games with Daddy who really knows how to play.

Twenty: A bed that is made together on Monday, in spite of shower dressing and breakfast and hair-doing.

Twenty-One: Receiving blankets, stacked and waiting for new life...

Twenty-Two: New life that is growing, growing, growing...

Twenty-Three: And sweaters for cold arms and the need for them because fall has finally arrived

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


This post also linked at Holy Experience for One Thousand Gifts.






(Images © Informal Moments Photography)