Pay Attention On The Road

Instructions for living a life.

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it.

( Mary Oliver)

The Road

Pay attention to the road.

And the traffic.

The directions too.

You may get lost.

Wander off on a path, into the unknown.

Where Discovery waits.

To greet your heart.

Bust it wide open, into the light. Into the world. Into the bright.

Pay attention to the mom with the pain. The one on black top blank stare, hurting insides.

Pay attention to one on the platform, as the rat runs by.

The one with the words looking for a place to light, to land, to rest.

Pay attention to the the one wearing ink for clothing with sadness oozing out and over and into your arms.

Pay attention to the all, the one, the single soul with a hole to fill to make them whole.

And your words may touch and your presence may help. Might even heal. A bit. A place.

He did it well. He paid attention. To the woman at the well.

To the prostitute. To the leper.

Pay attention to even one, to the least.

Discover the joy.

In discovering the moment.

Connect with the one, the child, the mom, the man on his commute.

Let Mercy pierce your heart.And Love spill from your lips.

And stumble down that path.

The one marked well for you.

Here Comes A Story

Grab that story.  

Yes that one.

The one that’s yours.

It’s got your name written all over it. Claim it. Cuddle it.  Embrace it. Savor it.

It is yours after all.  With all its pieces and parts.  What is your story, morning glory?  What are your beginnings, happy endings, messy middles. Your pauses to celebrate, your pauses to regenerate, and re-calibrate.  To learn and gleen.

Did you dog-ear a page, here and there. And did you highlight and re-read. Did you you thank the One who gave you all.  Did you rest on the pages and say this here and that there are places of  Grace.  Places of Mercy.  Places of prayer, answered.

Are you seeing it all, the nuances and layers of love. The places in between blended in between the first and second acts, where He loves and loves some more.  And sends His Savior, Son to take all the pain.

You know those parts of that story of yours. The painful parts that sting and hurt. Where the salty streams run down the cheek and bump-over the face craters, face mountains and valleys, then glide down the silhouette side, to round the chin corner. Like a stream finding its way, taking a slow winding path down pebbled speed bumps of  face. Bone, flesh, and pore drowned in salted streams.

A winged chapter glides by, you might miss it. A part and a piece fly by, grab hold, all kite-tailed happy, catch it and glide.  Ride it and sail.

Once upon a time parts are just once, that’s singular, not plural, once to behold times. Just once to partake times, simply once in a blue moon.  Once in that life-time. Not twice upon a time. Not there will be re-runs and do-overs and repeat performance times, once upon a time are once for you times.

Live your story well.

Run that story well.

Let His Son play a major role, a leading part. He is the star in your performance.  His is the best story ever lived. He will walk it out and be in every chapter and verse. What Glory and Honor do we give the One who gave us all.

He the Author and Designer of these our lives, this our life, any and all that we have.  Release it back to Him.

I give Him my story and thank Him for each part.

Taken off the wing of the One who sent it soaring in.

And sent back to to Him.

On wings to soar up and out, returning to Him, the Creator of All and any.

All and any that I ever claim as mine.

What a story, morning glory. The your story, my story, the our stories.

My once upon a time is just once upon a time and I celebrate all the times of this Life, this story is mine.

May this Sabbath be filled with thanking, and grabbing story, reigning it in and recommitting it all to Him.

Every good and perfect gift is from above—James 1:17

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Leaving Quite An Impression

Counting gifts with Ann over at a holy experience dot com. This is a beautiful way to start a Monday.  A day of new mercies.   Before counting gifts, and there are many, I want to express my gratitude to readers.  Thank you that you are here. Thank you for your encouragement.  You bless me with your feedback.  I look over my shoulder and see and hear you there, on this journey.  I am praying for each of you, may His grace mark your day with a deep groove of the holy on this day in the midst of May.  May the landscape of your life be touched by His Mercy, in the joy, in the hard, in the soft, and in the muck.  In the mundane middles,  in the fresh new starts, and in crossing the finish lines.

Looking down the bridge of this nose on this face and counting the right smack here gifts in this very messy living. This life.  The one  with the bumps and the bruises, the turns and twists, the highs and the lows, the peaks and valleys and the ebbs and flows. The gifts are underfoot and might even get stepped on if we don’t step lightly and walk softly through the very messy living.

Counting the multitudes on monday:

middle son’s weight loss, still amazed and impressed by his determination(90 pounds is a lot to register on this momma’s heart)

sweet unexpected surprise in my comment box from my daughter, love in the words, love in her heart

kayak’s and how they offer a way to quietly see life, slow paddling with The Patient One and sitting for hours in solitude while the kiddos took the SAT

Our favorite worship song in church yesterday led by beautiful voices and an elbow in the rib from sweet girl of mine, followed by her singing loudly her praises….grace IS an ocean…..

Going to take home communion yesterday as a trainee –shifting the lense of life and seeing the bread and the wine bless one who is bound by a wheelchair.  

My Head In The Clouds

I had my head in the clouds this weekend.  Resting in quiet.  Resting in light.  Resting under the clouds and  studying their beauty.

I, student of art under white moving design.  Gallery of blue backdrop, moving exhibit of puffy perfection.  Creation on display. He, Creator God, designer of beauty.  Loving presenter of beauty. I watch them move and drift, change and delight. I grateful.  I throw out a line of love to catch the light, catch a piece of heaven’s rays, heaven’s brilliance.

The Patient one fishes. I study.  We rest.  Under a blanket of heaven.  Grateful for all that He gives, graciously, lovingly, gratefully.

Place your head in the clouds, and rest in Him.  Rest in His love.  Rest in His beauty.  Rest in His loving arms this day.

His new Mercies wait around the corner on the morning after this evening.  Gift. Bowed up in love.

Seek.  See.  Thank.

What Grace.  What Love.  What a gallery of perfection all puffy and floating we see when we look up into the light.