Delight, Refresh and Restore – A Trio of Words For Healing

Today is Day 24. The collective can be found here by taking a hop, skip and a jump over here.

Yesterday I wrote of the words standing in line with their resumes.

It is as if the words have their own hourglass tipped over measuring the days left in their series. They watch the time slipping like particles of sand and they shout choose me, choose me.

So I do. I choose to bundle some words, package them in prose, let them out to breathe and serve. To  pack them up and let them run with me,  play,  escape. To shout and dance. Release and restore.

Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.

Twyla Thorp

So I pick and I bundle them  like fresh cuts from the Fresh Market and plop them down to both soak and suck the water through their straws. And to  give life-affirming beauty to the eyes. Even one. And especially His. Because there will be a day for audience. It has been planned since the beginning.

There is a struggle in focusing on the audience of One. Of writing and art making just for Him and Him alone. The day is coming soon for audience.

But today. For today I give the day to delight.

For delighting in the simple. Delighting in the restorative refreshing power of soaking in the absolute remarkable of a single moment.

A memory blazed in blues.

It is worthy of delighting under the microscope.

Viewing it closely, squinting intensely at the art. Peering at it all, while seeking the seemingly unseen beauty in everything.

I see anew when my soul is delighted by beauty. By a walk by the water, splashing childlike, dodging the surf. Seeking the simple in the treasures washed up on shore, strewn like confetti after the ocean threw a party for the world.

I am restored when my eyes wrap around driftwood masterpieces anchored in sand for study. I stand. Feet planted, toes wriggling, in October sand. Bleached and beautiful.Looking at the bleached woods, worn smooth , its limbs of death.

It was waiting to meet me this day, this wood. To meet me in the salt and sea.

With my child, grown, a man – by my side. WIth the dogs laughing, pink tongues wagging, they swim out and back in. Each a furry metaphor for living, the old the young, the brave, the timid. The energetic and the weary.

All in a dance on the shore. All in a restorative time by the blue blending, water with sky, sky with water, inseparable blues, a melange and mix of azures and others.

So the young call me out, and build me up and restore my hope in possibility and longing for living. And we laughed.

And all looks hopeful and healed at the art gallery by the sea.

My soul delights in the beauty of family and blue looks as blue should look. Strong and beautiful, a backdrop, a canvas for the art of simply living.

Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.

Thomas Merton

Linking with Ann at A Holy Experience dot com and Michelle. And continuing on the 31 Day journey at The Nester.

To follow along this blog on a regular basis and for the rest of this series click here to subscribe. It is a joy to have you along. Grateful for co-travellers.

Curve Ball

What joy I find in staring at this framed piece in my home. Gazing on it makes me happy. A nod to the light hearted, happy, carefree, the free-spirited side of life.

That big bouncing ball is life. Life is a ball. That orange orb of fun. Right in front of dog for the taking.

On the water floating, suspended by gravity, weightless, no tension. Held up by water, a life giver and life sustainer.

But what of those days when the ball is deflated and flat or slowly losing its ability to stay afloat.

When the pitch and toss on the waves bring unsteadiness. The ebb and flow bring trouble.

The unusually high tides cover us up, dry land is hard to find, terra firma for steadying the feet is in short supply. The dead low life tides leave too much exposed, abandoning life which needs a covering of water to stay alive.

Or a curve ball is thrown bringing surprise, uncertainty, unsettled emotion and the pain of “what just happened here”

What braces the heart in the dark shadows, the stormy places riddled with hurt.

C.H. Spurgeon says this in “Streams in the Desert” — “How can we have rain without the clouds? Our troubles have always brought us blessings, and they always will. They are the dark chariots of bright grace…. Our God may drench us with grief, but He will refresh us with mercy. Our Lord’s love-letters often come to us in black-edged envelopes.”

So today I take my ball and jump in the river of living water. John 7:38 — “Rivers of living water will brim and spill out of the depths of anyone who believes in me this way, just as the Scripture says.”

And I more than just stay afloat. I find Life from the Giver of Life.

Isaiah 12:3 -” Joyfully you’ll pull up buckets of water from the wells of salvation.”

Life is a ball, curves and all.

Isaiah 43:2 — “When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you. when you’re in rough waters, you will not go down. When you’re between a rock and a hard place, it won’t be a dead end.”

Drawing deep from the well of His Love.