Into The Beautiful

The broken shards, the razor sharp edges , cut like jagged glass. And we bleed. We bleed red, we bleed tears, we bleed fear and trembling.

The spinning earth throws us into a tailspin, head long into her tail winds. Upright vertical, we  now are nearly horizontal. Stretched by the force of  gale force winds of living.

We walk limp and slant. We walk bent and drag our weary cane, invalids on the life march.

Without Your beauty. Rust and all.


Frame for me the beautiful every time and everywhere. Share your canvas, ripe and waiting.
And let me paint with You.

Lend  your kaleidoscope eyes to me. To see a sky while still barely breathing. Battered from the power of beautiful. Shaken by creation’s power. Every single time. You repeat and re-repeat your holy masterpieces. And form them into new again.

Point me toward the beautiful so I can see as you.

mcclellanville sunset jeremy

Hold me in the beautiful, while frayed edges of my soul seem faint and frail and close to death. Mark the God art everywhere and peel the scales from my blind eyes. Take the old and make it new, once again.  you create and re-create at speeds  which dizzy human flesh,  spinning life  in your  formed beautiful.

I lay awestruck in the path of creation’s beautiful. Its blazing trail of color, texture, shape and form.


Heal me with Your beautiful. Cradle me in the woven glory of your hands. Shelter me in storms of lovely where brilliant moons and radiant light drip down on life lived here. Walk me toward the beautiful. And lay me down in sheets of white linen crisp and cool. Where I  can slumber in the beautiful with knowing of your holy steady hand.

Rock me roll me into a holy beautiful, where I can dance with You. And wake to waltz in fields of beautiful, growing outside the portal of my world.

Teach me, show me beautiful, when broken cries come look at me. And help me see Your beautiful in the midst of raging deadly seas.

Just wrap me up in rags of sacred lovely. That bind my bleeding wounds. And let me feel your healing hands surround me as I lay there soaking in the salty waters, beautiful on sandy shores of grace.

Wash me in the white hot beautiful, clean, awake and ready to receive all beauty made by you. Remove the blinders on my eyes which block the morning dew and green spring new. That shadow, hide the up and coming shoots of Earth’s new offerings.

Blue Moon HMM

And point me toward your beautiful, in broken, shattered, hurting places.

Teach me how to  find the beautiful. Paint it, write it, sing it out. Loud enough to echo toward the deaf ,yet soft enough to whisper with a sweet I love you.

Just spin me, twirl me, brace me in the broken beautiful so I can weave a masterpiece of beauty. And point always back to you.

With your gentle hands of grace.

Lead me steady straight

And cross me over mercifully,

Into beautiful.


I’m asking God for one thing, only one thing: To live with him in his house my whole life long. I’ll contemplate his beauty; I’ll study at his feet. – The Message, Psalm 27


Joining Emily and the group of writers there that have become friends at Imperfect Prose on Thursdays. Come by and read, visit, quietly or drop your own words into the link up there.  Emily’s is the place for grace.


log over creek w moss

Three’s Company – A Momma, A Girl, and Our God

Psalm 19:1 – God’s Glory is on tour in the skies, God-crafted on exhibit across the horizon.”

Psalm 19:7-  The revelation of GOD is  whole and pulls our lives together.  The signposts of GOD are clear and point out the right road.

Psalm 98:1 – Sing to GOD a brand-new song.  He’s made a world of wonders! He rolled up his sleeves, He set things right.

We are traveling back from a short but action filled mother daughter time away.
Weary and in need of rest we hunger for home and all that is to us.
Comfort, nourishment, routine, fellowship, strength of my husband, the love of her dad.
These blessings are miles away but we are journey weary and fatigued. We feel far away from home and on empty.

I am in need of being awakened by Beauty.

So God infuses His wonder, His presence and a distinct double rainbow in the Heavens.

I am awakened by Beauty.

I am restored for the rest of the journey.

When God’s presence is so raw and real and felt, don’t we wake up in a new and fresh way.

What an amazing way of  speaking to us.

We laugh about that pot of gold at the end of this bow of beauty and name the irony of it being Saint Patricks Day.  We need rest and a beauty moment so we pull off the main road, down a chocolate brown country side road and get out and gaze over emerald green farm land. One mother, one daughter, and one amazing Creator God.

She records.  I record.

The single glorious bow of color and majesty whispered to us, wooed us, to turn off the road. To soak in this gift.  His gift.

And  then the double appeared.  She shouts, its a double rainbow.

Our tired tanks, depleted by life and travel are filled with His Glory.  He restores.

And He always does.  He knows us so well.  Our needs, our hearts desires, the cry of our spirit out to Him.

What started out as a journey home will now be tagged and labeled as the time we saw the double rainbow.  God marked and God painted moments owning the day.

What others have I missed, those days he marked with beauty that I didn’t catch or see or mark.

What other moments did he lay before me to minister into or speak into or be present in that I simply fell asleep at the wheel.

Grateful for this one.  Keenly looking for all that He has laid out like precious jewels in our path.  Simply, wondrously, colorfully speaking to us in Love and with Goodness all these days of our lives.

In my sanctified imagination this seemed like a moment for me so perfectly timed.  BUT he loves us all so much it had to be for His whole world, for all of creation, for all of His children to see and soak in.

My pictures are so lacking in His spectacular gift.  But sharing with you all amplifies the moment, and increases the beauty.

Thank you for reading.  You humble me.

Mark His Beauty all around.  To Him be praise and glory

Thanking him for  all that He gives and counting gifts (but not often as I should) with Ann Voskamp over at A Holy Experience, author of 1000 Gifts ( click on her link over to the right under Blogroll)

*Dreaming with my daughter of a prom dress that frames her beautiful spirit and is “just perfect”

*Thanking Him for the precious young man who asked her.  Praying God’s blessing on budding relationships.

*Thanking Him for fun in defeat, laughter in the face of fleeting victory.

*Home Sweet Sweet Home and Sunday worship, Sunday quiet, and Sunday family time

*Purple wisteria on slate gray vines dangling their bounty down country roads

*A double rainbow over an emerald green field.

*The first words from my 17 year old when I walked in the door.  Precious and full of love. A true gift.

*Watching his eyes as he listened to the sermon today, listening to him praying The Lord’s Prayer

Enjoy this beautiful film.  Creator God is worthy of Praise.


The trumpeter outside my window.

Small feathered praise giver.

Ounces of feathers and flesh.

His worship, a sacrifice.

Loud so loud, his song of praise.

His love offering, his bending the knee to his creator is strong and bold.

For him, the rain has stopped the sun is out.

For him, I imagine he simply sings, belts it out because God created him to.

He punctuates my days with his song.

Window open to his world, in the morning he blows out his praise from beak.

Mid-day he sings with volume that astounds my heart.

The accoustics of his song are beautiful , clear and full of love.

And when I think he’s weary or offered up all that he is and all that he has, he belts out another chorus of praise.

So small, so powerful.

His love offering back to the one who made him.

His bird heart and bird worship an inspiration to the one on the otherside of window.

He limb must  tremble with his praise.

His heart must flutter with devotion.

His wings must shake with his offering.

His joyful noise, music to the ears of both God and man.

Seeking to find a song of worship worthy for the one who made me.

Click on the link below and enjoy Hallelujah on this Second Sunday in Lent. Turn up the Praise (and the volume ) And grab a cup of coffee for this lengthy praise song. And to Him be all Praise and Glory.  Amen