The Spice of Love

love rootHe by the fire

And I all folded up

under Tartan holding mug of dark hot piping black

Designing gifts of love

And I can see the yellow,house

Through window pane

And wonder

How you multiply a batch of baked and make it fill up all the cracks

And holes of days throughout the three

six

five

when quietly we live across, beside

Angled  on this street so quiet

How do we add enough to make up for lost words

A silence living in the quiet days and nights on quiet

Street, we chose, they chose

A peaceful avenue of still

Which spice can shake out love come down

And fill a heart up full to overflowing

And say I love my neighbor, golden

As myself

Its not the dozens from the oven’s

heat

Its simply love of Christ poured out

And empty handed we could go and take

A batch of baked up

served up

cooked up

 Christmas Love

heart bright in wood

And when the days that roll around
and cause a heart to spill
resolve
and resolutely
make a list
of all that will be different
in the year
the one
found when the page
is
turned

and

twenty thirteen
has a way of making all things
new
a wish can roll right off the heart
as I stare at the house
yellow through my pane
that I would deliver
Christmas Love
On all the days
Not simply one
To all the doors

not simply mine

that

sit in wait
for Christmas Love
Come down
All year

Round

Delivered Daily

not just sprinkled in one batch

no, love come down all year round

I stare at yellow through my windowpane

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Joining Amber at The Run A Muck for her concrete word prompts. The Spice Of Love was written out of the word prompt cinnamon. 

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December 26th

shadows eyes and donkey

I have got my eye on you
Like a hawk
Steel eyed, glassy,
Fixed gaze
Not blinking
You have come before
And dropped the black cape on a place
On a home
Covered in paper it feels like lead weight
You taunt and tease
And say what now
You know the drain of excess and of spent lives
Spent wallets
Spent souls
And you peel back the layers
Seeing weary and wondering
But not this year
You will have no place
No room in the inn of our home
No hearts left empty from want or greed
No taking down tinsel with a tear of despair
No now what’s and what’s nows
We will call you glorious too
And name you day of continued praise
And walk out with the love came down at Christmas
The day after
And call it a day of beauty too
When hearts filled by Him and with Him and of Him
Can go out into all the world
For He has set the captives free
And so we are
Of worry want and dread
And instead
Paint all the days of gray
With berry red rejoicing

I’ve got my eyes on you
Warm stare of welcoming
You’ve slammed the door on joy
And wagged a boney finger at a home
What now you tired and weary souls
What will you do this day
As you look back on all the days of Advent
And a life which lead you to the dirty
Manager
On the mantel
In the past
We’ve wrapped Him back with care and love
And felt a sadness
It is over
When in fact
Its just begun
The day one of continued celebration
Of that bright and silent Holy
Night
Of birth and making all things right
Here right now
We live the days of joyful man
Because we know the cross
In all its sacrifice
So day you will not live as day of infamy
And gloom and spent and sadness for an end
Of Celebration
No, the blood red rejoicing will continue
The weary world’s rejoicing
For He came and He reigns
Forever
Even and especially on
December 26th
When all the Christmas
Hope
And Christmas
Love
And new and glorious
Lives reconciled to Him
Should find us
Falling on our Knees
And singing
Still
The Hallelujah Chorus
To a tired and weary world

ive got my eye on you dirty donkey

Joining Jen, Eilleen and Emily today.

Also joining Heather for Just Write.
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donkey-3 I got my eye on you

The Power and The Beauty of One

It runs through me like a current of the electric. Strong with awakening.

Powerful in its thrust and pulse.

And haunting like a metronome in its consistent cutting moves.

We can hear a message and it sounds like its cutting through clutter, the thick fog of a world’s static noise with its clarity.

In a season of waiting and working and wading toward Christmas how singular and powerful One is.

I see it repeated in my life like the multiplication tables of my childhood, again and again repetition brings understanding and memory and a lodging in the deep places. Where facts or is it truth should make its home and remain.

The power in One’s.

So my heart and my head just hear a singular message and it could be tucked away as many lessons are. Or it could be shared, as this one is.  But you always seem to be so generous with your one life in how you listen in love here.

I hear and feel the gentle whisper to give it wings. This picture of the power so often held by one.

There is strength and power in one. And it is made clearer in our Advent waiting for the celebration of the holy night into which Our Savior was born.

And God being God could have sent an Army, a battalion of Saviors. He could have sent triplets or twins or multiples to accomplish that which he so lovingly planned for our reconciliation to Him. We sinful, He holy.

But He sent His only Son. He sent One.

And so I look at His world and my world and this world through the lense of just how powerful one can be.

We have one heart, but two ears and two eyes. One heart keeps us beating breathing from birth to death. One.

And I look in the sky at a moon  by night and a sun by day. Day in and day out we are sustained by both. Singularly life giving, the sun its light. The moon and the tides and all that I don’t understand about the holy mystery of that.

The power in the heavens. By ones.

We women who are married live with the gift of one husband. And I think mine does the work of three or four men daily. And every day the beauty revealed,  the mystery grows  more holy and unfathomable.

The things accomplished through love in a family utterly amaze this wife of almost 25 years. And we have only just begun. Those things learned within a family are holy mysteries.

One family can teach us much about living.

The bride of Christ. One bride, one bridgegroom. The work to do on earth is large and ever looming. One and one. Just Amazing Grace.

After pouring out on the pages here words of offering as encouragement or hope or just art, the art found in weaving of words, I have often had one single comment speak into my heart…if only for that and for her it was all made worthy. It became something of value if it reached one heart of one woman or one man. One soul. A single solitary soul.

I write for One but often I am touched and blessed by one reader. And it is tender and merciful. I shake and shutter at the interaction between reader and writer.

And in this season of preparing for Christmas I am frozen in my ability to design and construct the proper expression of my love for family and friends. Numbed and deemed unable to decide how to move with a release of gifts and talents and money into the land of Christmas giving.

For my giving is an excercise in the imperfect  mirroring of love, as He gave everything, His one child. So we give.

And I know if I am wise I can impact the life of one with my giving. One child entangled in a cycle of poverty. One family, maybe with my giving.

It is inconceivable that I could really touch one, another with a gift. The unfurling of my meager offering. To love as Christ loved me.

That we all can, each one of us can.

And that one is enough, though it seems small. One is a good start. And one is important. And he can increase and multiply the power of Ones.

If God saw power,  life changing power at that ,in one, who am I to minimize the power in one gift, to one child, or one family. To another one in this world.

When I feel small and insignificant and frozen into inaction by the meagerness of my giving, I think on God’s ability to multiply my starting point.

The power of God to do big things with my small offering.

To inspire me to increase or expand. To take a gift and magnify its effectiveness.

If I let loose of my gifts, give them to Him, release and trust them to Him,  to use and heal and give hope, then I  give Him his rightful authority and power. To do with my oneness bigger things than I could do with any single offering.

To Him be the power and glory that are His, and may we release our singular offerings to His service, His glory and to  be used for His Divine choosing. For His purposes.

I am going over to the Compassion Christmas GIft Catalog. To ask Him how what I have may be used over there.

I need nothing. I want for nothing. My family and friends need and want for nothing, truly.

But maybe, just maybe, God can take my small offering and turn it into something much  bigger than I ever could.

On my own.

Alone. I haven’t  been the best steward of all He has given me. It would be wise to release more back to His hands for His use.

There I know they are in good hands.

There I know they will be used for His glory and His purposes.

He is the One who knows the need and has the power to redeem my ineffectual and just plain wrong choices on spending that which  He has lavished on me.

And by His grace, mercifully, He gives me another chance to give away.

One that I want to be used in love for good.

Like the one moon that shines bright, the one sun that sends rays of life giving light, the one husband who loves me and blesses me with his life, and the One Savior who was  born in a feed trough for me.

May God take my offering and make it holy and beautiful.

This one Christmas 2012.

Here is one place you can look when considering  your gift giving this year. I may see you over there looking around the pages of Compassion Christmas Gift Catalog.

Wherever you choose to give this year, may someone who is hurting and lonely and in need to blessed.

Merry Days of Christmastime to  each one of you, sweet readers.

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click the link below to visit Compassion International’s Christmas Gift Catalog:

http://www.compassion.com/catalog.htm?referer=128060

Linking with Laura and Ann today.

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And Heaven And Nature And We All Sing, An Advent Prayer

Hem in my heart that it would be wholly focused on You, beating to a rhythm of an Advent life

Hem in my words that they may speak only  blessing,  gentle peace, exuberant joy inspired by you

Hem in my mind that I would dwell on Your birth, Your life and Your transformative grace

Hem in my home, that we would live God honoring, Light giving, and Soul nourishing in this and every season.

And hem me in, by your power and not mine alone.

Glory and Honor to You

Bust open our hearts and prepare Him plenty of room

While Heaven and Nature and all God’s people sing,

Loudly, Joyously

With Hymns of Praise

Singing a Hemmed in Amen

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trees, moss, bluewpid-IMG_20120716_160222.jpgwpid-2012-07-02-11.58.48.jpg