A Picture Is Worth, Well Something

2012-12-30_12.21.38

The Patient One and I got in the car and drove an hour and a half to visit a church yesterday.

And studied possibility and new and change and weighed some options, as much as man can. For in all the weighing there is really more of a  a wondering, what does He have for us in these months and days to come. As we make decisions at the prompt of His will and opening of doors and opportunity. Abundance on the other side of the stepping off and into a life.

My mind was swirling a bit with my post for today. You know the one where she writes looking over the shoulder, reflecting with sentiment and sap, good sap not bad sap, or with thankfulness and the benefit of hindsight, all twenty twenty. You know the one all covered in out with the  old and in with the whatever. I have a love hate relationship with cliches. They are just so cliche. They can’t help it really that’s what they are. I digress.

What if life is just more of a beautiful continuation and less of a stop and start of days and years. Just a generous outpouring of well, life.

My mind was swirling a bit about the what was and what will be. And then I saw this and I could not and cannot stop thinking of what it says as it sings to my soul. And it does that. It whispers and sings and it is so sweet.

It is the beauty in the ash.

It is the hope in things to come.

It’s the new and tender mercy on the other side of pain and disappointment.

It is the unexpected joy.

And I can’t stop starring like an awkward teenage boy at the sight of a beautiful young girl. The picture is romancing me. It is calling to the dark and out of the dark.

There were no rolled eyes when I asked him to stop. Well really screamed stop. He slammed on the breaks when I saw the scene and screamed stop here I have to take a picture.

There was no hesitation. There was accomodation.

When Beauty calls and the world speaks and we stop to listen there is story and lesson and meaning and yes singing too. To a soul.

So I will muse a little in my soul about resolution and change and dreams and desires.

I will plan and weigh and dance around a list of life to-do’s.

But mostly I will dream with an expectancy and hope. I will launch my soul into the days of all that I see in this picture taken after church on the last Sunday in 2012.

Beauty rising from the soil of cold December.

Tender new blanketing the Earth in abundance with pale yellow joy, reaching for the Heavens.

 Seeing past the rusted bars and branches of death to a  beautiful hope.

Always.

2012-12-30_12.21.12

2013 facebook

Joining Laura for the last Monday in 2012.
5d037876-16bd-463d-92cd-6b173e7fa589_thumb_BR_3

What Should We Do When The Lights Go Out?

christmas for fb

What should we do when the lights go out.

What do we do when the lights come down.

How do we feel when the lights go dim and dark and out and up and away.

When all the bright and all the light are stored and boxed and put up high, out of arms reach. Tucked and stored. Out of sight. And suddenly so suddenly the twinkles are no more. And the normal new normal is back to dim and duller, in the rooms in all the rooms where we move and live and have our being.

And plain seems to  reign and dulller rules and all the exteriors are undressed and no longer wearing their Sunday best. The music fades, the carols quiet, and still covers the nights of the bleak mid-winter.

So what should we do when the lights go out and up and are put away. And we grieve the change or we celebrate, our unique spirits reign during the days on all the days of shifting gears and changing lanes and traveling back down the roads of living before we stopped and prepared our hearts for the holy celebration. Prepared Him room in all the light and bright.

Oh, what do all  the souls of all the saints do and say as all the lights are dimmed at once.

Don’t we each see through lens with unique eyes on all the dark. Frame the change as only  I can frame and you can frame and we can frame the change, when all the lights come down.

As boxes take the baby Jesus back to tissue wrap and all the scenes of Hope and Glory and Redemption go back gently in their box, we all take time to grieve the change. Take it tender, take it slow.

And say goodbye or say hello.

And weep with tears of Joy or tears of pain. And look back with that keen hindsight on all the days to all the days of the year that is and almost was.

But what if when the decorations and decor and garland ribbons bows and such come down we see more clearly, all the bones of life. With all the fluff and stuff removed, or some of it at least.

And trim back ornamental accoutrement to just the what we usually have.

And dim the lights, it’s sweet that way. And turn the dial that dims the lights to see just you and see just me right straight in the eyes, of the soul,  of all the ones that gather round a life.  And see He is right there He always was, when all the lights go out.

When all the candy has come and gone and all the presents are received and thanks are sweetly given. And simple rules again in the hearts of men, what will we do what should we do when all the lights go out.

WIthout the cords and bulbs and lights, without the trim and trees and wreaths.

Its you, its me, its family.

And in all the dark and dim and dull,  the hurting and the weak still stand.  The lonely, sick and so afraid, still look for light to shine on them.

So when the lights go out and down and up, let’s be and shine and show and love with all the Light from Love Come Down, At Christmas.

In all the dark, in all the days of all the year for all the world to see.

Paint with brush strokes the flames of Hope and Mercy bright and glowing.

Where death and pain and hurt and dark are seeking His bright love.

Let’s still sing loud and soft and sweet,  let’s still tell Truth and tell it tender,  let’s still Love and Be the People Bearing Light.

And lets stand, huddle, rest not move, in the shadow of His perfect light and love.

Stand with me, rest with me, linger long and slow. Let’s stand together, touching always the hem of His garment of perfect love. There in the light, in the heavenly light.

Dim the lights of the world all you want, for in Him there is no darkness at all.

In Him there is no darkness at all. And the broken Hallelujahs and the always Alleluias sing loud and clear in the light, in the bright light. In the forever light.

Merry The Days After Christmas…. remembering always the Light and The Hope of Glory in Him.

There is not a trace of darkness in Him – 1 John 1:5

christmas 2

When You Don’t Know The End Of The Story–Just One Small Part

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

I don’t know how this story will end. I only know one small part.

But I know what the logic and thinking of the world might be.

It might sound like this.

It’s too close to Christmas. All the gifts are almost bought. We are headed toward a fiscal cliff. There is not enough to go around in my own world.  There are great needs everywhere.

And this is what I know of God:

He is beautiful and strong and capable and  yet he longs to use us.

His miracles have always amazed and they always will.

He is merciful and loving and longs to heal the hurting.

And I know this about myself and my ability to see. I can’t. Not always. See past impossibles to possibles. I can’t always see Light and Hope in darkness. And I am terrible in math. So I try to draw a linear equation between the wants and needs and the generous and the givers and the you’s and me’s. But I am not good in math. But I do know the heart of God. And I know the touch and mark  of His work in lives is both tender and powerful. Both and.

I also know I have a heart for words. So my heart tries to jump out onto paper which is actually a one dimensional back lit holder of my avatar. Not paper at all.

God can fill the gaps between the need and the resources. Between my words and my desire to help. Between the givers and the needy. Between poverty and plenty.

And I don’t know the end of the story. I just know one part of it.

That’s where hope comes in. And trust too.

Compassion International has a goal for December to bless children in poverty and they have reached but a fraction. The space is wide and deep and long between the goal and the what’s come in.

I know that. And I write words. And God knows the hearts of man and how he can use each of us in a Christmas Miracle.

So in the bleak midwinter, I lay out the goal, God knows the end.

I only know a small part.

But I wait with an expectant heart, pregnant with celebration at the outcome.

This may be for one person. This may be for one hundred and one hearts.

My goal is $100 for Compassion International. Maybe its one giver, maybe two at $50, or ten at ten.

Here is the link to Compassion International’s Gift Catalogue. You can give some Christmas Joy there.

Wherever that is for you, may we  all find joy in the giving and peace in our offerings.

Merry Christmas to each of you. You bless my heart every day. And I am grateful.

God, the Writer, Editor and Perfecter of all of our stories, may you bless the children. And may you use us in your blessing.

Lord give us eyes to see the joy in giving, the hidden and the unseen that you long for us to be a part of, and give us hearts to bless the broken. Today and everyday. Amen

close up cotton

Compassion-International-Bloggers1

Joining Jen, Emily, and Heather today

e79f1c72-672d-40a2-b768-2fae490d02b3_thumb_BR_44
6144223072_aba44084aa_m295b3123-4a67-4966-8a77-222919b9921c_thumb_BR_44160-India-Blue

Grieving and Rejoicing

wpid-2012-06-29-13.00.59.jpgA co-mingling of
A grief so heavy handed
Sip by sip we drink of it
And the quenching does not come
The grief of man seems never ending
Life in grieving is prolonged
The heart so heavy finds no solace
From sharp pain the season long
The heart ripped open in the sadness
The depth of loss defined in terms brand new
The weary souls of hearts beat different in this sea of sad
And tremble, quake at news of death

But somewhere while the tears still wet
And as the human heart is weak with pain
The glimpse of Light and then bright rays
Will shine anew Hope, co-mingled with the pain
As healing comes, no matter at what rate
As healing comes in mercy wrapped in love’s still fragile lace
As healing comes and joy streams mingling,
Mixing with rivers of life’s salty tears
Our Hope in present darkness sings to hearts
And Love born in a manger, Love radiant will
Proclaim, that though the pain in life cuts deep
A manger holds life’s Comforter and Healer
And we will, we will rejoice again

And while the pen that writes the words
Is colored, shaded in charcoal greys or
Ebony black sorrow monochromes
A Hope restored brings Love anew
Creating slowly colors, brilliant Hope’s bright hues
And writes a love note to the hearts of men
And wipes the tears on cheeks and weary souls
Proclaiming Love and Hope and Christ’s Love
Still makes mercies new, all the mornings
Of all the days to come, everyone
Replacing broken fractured with healed and whole
Co-mingling tears of weary grieving
With those of a weary world’s rejoicing
A world still grieving
Will see a day, in days to come
Of Hallelujahs, broken
Still Rejoicing
Rejoicing still over
News of Comfort and Joy
Comfort and Joy
And though faint and weak,

Alleluia Anyway

 

Joining Laura for her Play Dates at the Wellspring

 

5d037876-16bd-463d-92cd-6b173e7fa589_thumb_BR_3