Saturday, January 28, 2017

Let's Fly!

Out to the south of this soft, brown cabin and across the wet-weather creek, the breeze shuffles over my sleeping garden plot.  Coming inside, it wandered round the wires of the wobbly fence, picking up wood chips and old mulching hay as it passes by,  tossing a few bits 'round in it's happy, laughing wisps. The geese call out in the mid morning air, a quartet of sounds, making this place full of dimension and warmth, in frosty January.

The nation is in a spinning wind of disagreement and accusation since the inauguration and before. Friends turn against friends, fiery words are passed around, everyone seems to feel smarter and more knowing than the other. With the push of a button we stop listening to one another, stop seeing one another as we reach for some peace and agreement to sooth the concern in our hearts. Turmoil reaches long, dark arms to draw us all into this simmering, sickening cauldron of disagreement.

On this small plot of a farm, behind the high hill to the east and under this peaceful, blue January sky, the spinning could be felt just the same...if one moved towards the whipping wind, if one engages in a match of mental "strength" or clever, intellectual reasoning bent to show the decided "stupidity of the other side".  One could.  Anyone can. Somehow in the fuzzy morning grace that appears every day like magical morning dew, I was arrested with an easy invitation;  "Look away", the thought seemed to offer, "Turn a blind eye"... such an easy, breezy proposition. "Remember how it was to fly?"  Then I partook of the remembering, of lifting up like in the old days, like in a childhood dream.  I remembered that all I needed was to think it and up, up and away from the lower lands I could go.  And then I wondered when the invitation to fly was ever pulled back or away?  Maybe we only have forgotten it was there.

And since I was kindly invited, I thought I would go up today into the air and I thought I would let my thoughts rise up and fly into the higher place where the droplets of love and kind thoughts are formed, until so many drops are buoyantly, "bouncingly" waiting in the sky that their heavy little bodies, all at once, must fall free like rain onto those below who need it most.  We have all been below before, and have needed the rain, too. And who can be to blame?  Staying in the dry lower lands of grown up reasoning is hard work, wearying work, for sure.

So what fun for me that I'm inviting you, too, since I heard there was unlimited space  and no one who can fly is restricted from coming along!  I heard that we could soar like eagles, and not get tired! A Saturday for soaring.  What a pleasant surprise. Isaiah 40:31

Thursday, January 26, 2017


This is my confidence;  I am Yours and You are mine.  This my place to live-- in the weight of the divine.♥

You train my heart in this place of weighty belonging.  You train my heart to be daughterly, a King's daughter, the King's girl.

You lend Your power and presence to show me what is mine. You award me with love and kindness.  You possess me in complete freedom, this perfect paradox.  Your liberty illumines my night and stands bright in my days.

You shower me in joyfulness.  You tend me as your special garden.  You breath close to my face so that I feel Your nearness, not just know it. 

You lead me out in peace and surety.  You give me Your name.  You call me Your own.  You call me Your own;  Daughter. 

Saturday, December 31, 2016

Comfort and Kingdoms

Of one kingdom we reach out for comfort and it enslaves the Kind Kingdom,"comfort" reaches out for us and frees us.

May freedom ring in this new year!

Love to all,


Monday, December 12, 2016

Every Day...

Early in the morning, I gathered a basket of autumn up for inside the house.  Why should all of the free, fall decor be crunching under my boots? 

I loved them in the window.  My own little oak tree display. 

And I figured that since I did get up this morning, and since I had yet another full day with which to fill up, I may as well be intentional about the good parts, so I made a mental list.  I called it, 

"Things That Should be Done Everyday, if You are Me:

             1.  I should do something beautiful every day.  (leaves hanging in window)   2.  I should take time for a few photos.(...because that's just fun)
                  3.  Everyday, I will eat something from the garden, even if it is just a snippet.  
(.....because that's just exciting and, yes, plants grow there in December)  4.  Every day, I should spend a moment on creative ideas, whether planning or doing because that feels like living. (baking bread, arranging a vase with flowers or greenery, sketching or writing, or whatever)  5. Everyday, there is time for a walk. (walks are the best) 6. And last, but most exciting part that makes any day marvelous and must never be missed or else a desperate dullness will ensue over your day---at least I'm sure that is what would happen to mine;  I will visit that "Dreamy place that is ours and God's together". No day can measure up to much without Him being all rolled up in it! 

Not sure what this is, but it is hot and tastes like horse rashish! 

 And every day, I will treasure love in my heart. 

Today, I found a little blue card in some old things.  Inside it said, "I love you, Rosebud. Love, Mom."  My heart melted onto the floor and the card was promptly placed in the window where I can see it now, every day.   I, so, treasure the love.

Thanks, Mom. I love you, too.

All the best things seem to me to be the simplest things.

Thanks, Poppa (God), I love (heart) You, too.

Tuesday, October 4, 2016

A Twilight Bloom

Though the night is long, the light is always coming again, always the sway of dark to light to give a weary ponderer a beacon to yearn towards.......Oh yeah, morning is coming strong towards you, strong and sure to open up your life's scene to a cresting light.  It is.
But, did you see the moonflowers in the nighttime hour?  I saw them last night, opening as the evening moved towards sunset. 

The little goat herd browsed by and plucked a few of the milky blooms right off as I regarded them, as if they hadn't noticed they would be delicious before.   All draped in a tangle along the strawberry patch, I hadn't noticed how delicious it was to see them there before--- as a flower for the night, the darkest hour.  

Last night I dreampt I woke up afraid, but not really afraid, I was remembering how it was when I was a child.  I went to turn on the lights and no light came.  I ran to my sister's room and couldn't wake her, so I went upstairs to my mother's room where she lay silent with Dad, all safe and secure in there.  I called in my 10 year old voice as if I was not 50 years old anymore, "Mom, mom!"  And Mom left Dad's side, came to me in nightgown beauty, she made a place in another room and on another bed for me and her.  As I watched her make it ready, I knew I would sleep sound with her laying beside me. 

A white bloom for the nighttime hour--a comfort under the canopy of shadow.  Who will see this loveliness?  --anyone awake in the night.... anyone who "calls out" will see it there waiting silent, beautiful like mother in gown coming to comfort the child awake in the dark.

3 Call to Me, and I will answer you. I will tell you of great things, things beyond what you can imagine, things you could never have known. Jeremiah 33:3

Wednesday, September 28, 2016

A Birthday Eve

Cooking rice on the stove....shaking in the soy and stirring the vegetables, too. I was just listening  to the music while I worked and was clicking away at the black keys here.  And I was waiting for the feelings to come, the ones that come singing a song served up fresh and full. It is "for King and Country" today......Sometimes one must look for the feelings and call for the calming to come.  Some must train in the trying and tutor the story to tell your tale of triumph.  

Dusty windows leave baskets and books, blowing bells and blueish 
birds in view from the kitchen.

 It is a Wednesday and a birthday eve of even numbered, lived out years for me. The boys will leave for church and I will clean the rice from the skillet and the chicken from the crock and feel all of this.

Barns and brothers, big and small on an eve of half of the whole's 50 years eve and still, it is me.  
A goose and a gander, a goat outside of the gate, a garden and a gathering of my thoughts.  
A collie and a "calling", I am watchful of them both.  And I'm looking for the pretties, the pleasers, the pleasant in the eve of a day.  I'm searching for the hints of heaven, the tint of treasure, the bloom of something beautiful because I can do this, I can.  

I'm searching the sorrow for the Savior and searching sadness for the souvenir, surveying the sacrifice for a Shepherd; hiding and seeking.  These same ole autumn winds blow, like in Kentucky when I was born.  They come to play this birthday game for me and perch the prize up high so I will stretch for up in the oak, like out on a limb.  I don't love games.....but I will pray for the prizes and I will, on purpose, play.  

 I see a wide open field of fruit out there in the distance ---ripe for the picking--thrusting stems wave wild in the favor of this faith on this birthday's eve ♥.

Monday, September 19, 2016

A Triangle of "Three".

Yeah, it's scandalous they say--  a love triangle and I am unashamed........Or, imagine Bermuda, that old polygonal legend of disappearing ships and planes......but even near the Bermuda I am not afraid of its devouring, three sided mystery.  And I am not afraid of the scandal.
 I am disappeared in a love triangle.  But, I am being tricky with you now.  I am just playing a game with my words. Of these corners of three I can barely even tell of how they  pull back beyond my imaginations and of their watery grave for worn out ways--it won't be told in latitudes and longitudes. 
No, I am not ashamed in the Triangle of "Three" and if my disappearance is complete, never mind rescuing me.  Let my worn out ole ways rest in peace deep within the water of the Triangle of "Three". 

 May the grace of the Lord Jesus the Anointed, the love of God the Father, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit remain with you all. 2 Corinthians 13:14

                                        King of my Heart

Sunday, September 18, 2016

Me, Sam and the Treasure

A true story of a Saturday in August etched out here for my dear sisters who climbed the mountain to Camp Mitchell to meet with a King and to lay our crowns at his feet.  ♥

The weekend began with a journal laid open on my lap and pen etching out this holy, daily dialogue......pen to paper, heart to's the same thing. ♥ I scrawled the letters into prayers, into telling, and thinking in ink, and then some questions.
And the page full was turned and in the "uppery"corner of the next was a little something already written by the nice someone who makes the journals for people with pens and things to think in ink.

  **It read, "Expect the day to hold little treasures that have been           hidden just for you by God who has given you His heart." 

Just under it I had penned the last of my questions before noticing the print above, I wrote:  "Lord, what about the mountains?"(I was asking him about Camp Mitchell and if I would climb the mountain,  too.  Should I spend the money, do I belong with the others this year?)♥ I would wait for an answer.

But back to the words in the "uppery corner".  :)  
You know sometimes words pass by and leave nothing much behind their passing and sometimes those same words, for reasons not always known, SPARKLE.  Today I saw the glistening and a pittery pattery pounded soft in my chest wondering about little treasures sneaking around in my Saturday.  

 Ticks and tocks on the clock moved forward the morning, and I sat down to the big white screen and logged in.  A man from California leaves a note each day for all to see and he says they come from Heaven to share.  I wondered if they really do.   

**It read, "Watch for unexpected blessings and hidden treasures to       be revealed."  

The pittery pattery sound in my chest beat faster now and I wanted to search for this treasure, but where?  I whispered to the urging to "be still" since it only said to be watchful. I could wander into Saturday with all of the wonder of a child.  

The morning went vanishing while pulling out a chair for the afternoon. And I was passing by a little thrift store on my way home from the grocery.  I was caught up by an enthusiasm to venture inside .  I found the isles felt full of wonderment (could there be treasure?).  Up the last isle I saw, sitting alone on the floor a little brown suitcase for a bargain.  The brass tag said  Samsonite, but it looked more like plain Sam. He was old and perfect  so I brought him home, even though I don't think I needed a suitcase.  As I pulled away from the curb, I looked back with a start to see the sign above the door reminding me the little shop was called,  "Trendy Treasures".  ♥

I set the suitcase up high on the chest of drawers so that I could see it with ease because every time I glanced its way I saw the SPARKLE of a treasure, like an adventure, like a new story was starting to be told and only a few pages were yet turned.   The invitation to watch for treasure seemed to stretch out far beyond the rising and setting of a Sat.  And my new suitcase, Sam, was more than just a place to carry my seemed an invitation into adventure..........and the question from the start of my story seemed answered now.....Sam and I would take our first adventure to the mountains and Camp Mitchell.   

Evening came and I climbed into bed and opened the book with the good words one last time to no page in particular and it read,  "The Kingdom of Heaven is like treasures hidden in a field......Matthew 13:44".

I was watching for The Kingdom all along! ♥  

Psalms 139:17
Your thoughts and plans are treasures to me, O God! I cherish each and every one of them!
    How grand in scope! How many in number! 
Matthew 6:21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

Camp Mitchell, Petite Jean Mountain
Fellowship of Christians Women's retreat 2016 ♥
"Daughters of the King"