Monthly Archives: February 2014

Every Good and Perfect Gift

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I totally made this.

James1_16to18

It was a great one to write out.

I mean, I don’t want to be deceived.

I am contemplating TRUTH this year.

I love the contrast between light and shifting shadows.

It’s cool that we were given birth through the word of truth

Jesus is both THE WORD (John 1:1) and THE TRUTH (John 14:6).

So we are a kind of “firstfruits” of creation, along with all the stuff pronounced GOOD in the garden.

We were the Very Good.

 

Inspiration

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I found something breathtaking this weekend for $4.25.

W.  Carl Ealy

These beautiful Pathway Art Cards with poetry on the back.    Though blank inside, I wanted desperately to write the exact words penned by Philip Martz on the inside with my own handwriting.

The trouble is, I can’t bring myself to part with them.

And I can’t frame them because the words are as beautiful as the picture.

See for yourself:

The Sea Speaks of Life

As children, we are drawn to the sea’s call

beyond a hand-drawn universe,

by the persistent undertow, a persuasive tugging at us

despite the instinct to retreat,

or remain upright on our tiptoes.

Yet rolling waves beckon us to venture in

over our heads,

to test our meddle, to face each wave head-on,

before it lifts us up over ourselves,

dashing us against the ocean floor.

Coaxing us to swim farther out to sea,

as a necessary distraction from the cries

and arm-flapping of parents

given over to realized fears,

jealous of newfound independence,

frightened of unproven skills to navigate safely

to shore under our own volition. 

Finding traction, if not renewed courage not to panic.

Upon being served notice by any random whelk shell

that the sea speaks of life’s hard knocks

With a sustained groan,

long after childhood lessons have been absorbed.

~Philip Martz

Love Always

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Envision yourself sitting on a warm beach, dozing with no danger of sunburn while the warm breezes and the ocean waves sing a lullaby over you.

When you look around, you notice that you are sitting in the middle of a massive sand-drawn heart.  As you stand and survey the message, you realize that the design goes on and on.

sand art

Each grain of sand part of a whole.  Beautiful alone, lovely even randomly spaced, but breathtaking when arranged as a part of a grander picture.

A long walk follows as you greet others, observing their play, hearing bits of authentic conversations and receiving their smiles as you pass.  Your mind is filled with gratitude, inspiration, and peace.

Back at your spot, invigorated by your stroll, you take a snack from your bag.  It is tasty, healthy and satisfying.  You have enough to save, enough to share.

The rest of your day has you looking forward to the next task or outing without feeling rushed, but with a spirit of adventure and anticipation.

The rest of your days each look better than the last.

When unexpected sadness comes your way, you easily can find, retrieve and experience endless comfort.  This type of love and care is never depleted–always available.

Likewise, when a loved one mourns or hurts, you are equipped to sympathize, care for them intelligently, and find creative ways to love them anew.  They heal with you.  You heal with them.

The truth is that the relief and intimacy that develops during awful times becomes greater than the felt loss or need.  Memories of loss and void are vividly accessible and sometimes surprising.  Joy and sorrow mingle, intertwined in an indescribably way.

Each night looking back on the day, you are pleased with your accomplishments, and have ideas for another dawn.

You know you have loved well.

You know you have been loved well.

This is what faith looks like.

Hey Nineteen

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Nineteen year olds are plentiful in my life right now.  First of all, there’s my oldest son.  Although he is away at college he sometimes delights me with random texts and Snapchats providing about 12% of the information about his life that I am craving.

Wes award text

Another example is the boyfriend of my oldest daughter.  Him I see constantly.  He knows a lot of things.  He is a respectful guy, nice to our daughter, and would rather be at our house than anywhere else, so he is.  A lot.

Another one unexpectedly crossed my path yesterday.  I was leaving a friend’s house walking towards my car when my son’s high school teammate pulled into the driveway directly across the street.  He waved at me all friendly-like, probably remembering that I made a poster with his name on it last year.  “JUSTIN TIME” was waved proudly last spring at OLHS every time he hit the back of the soccer net.

Crossing the street to greet him with a motherly hug, I saw immediately that he was distressed.

“I’m trying to get to the dentist and I have a flat tire.”

I couldn’t help but offer, “I’ll haul you to the dentist if you can get a ride home.”

“Aw, SWEET!”  He said as he texted his mom not to cancel the appointment.

I asked by way of conversation how he got the flat.

He put me on hold while he was fiddling with his phone.

“Hold on.  I’ll tell you in a second.”

He tapped and sent and tuned back in to his surroundings.

“OK–the flat tire story…it’s funny.  You know that truck is Goldstein’s, right?”

“No.  I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.  He’s letting me use it.  Anyway, another buddy of mine asked to borrow it so I said, sure OK but it’s not mine, right?  So then I gave him the whole nine:  Drive safe.  Don’t drink.  No weed.  Don’t text.  You know, because it’s not my truck and also it’s not insured.”

“Very responsible.”

“Right?  I know.  You would think.  So not 7 minutes after he took off, he was in the parking lot, you know, goofing around on the ice and snow, and he hit a curb doing donuts.  Busted the tire.”

“Woah.  Bummer.”  (this is the only lingo I’m allowed to use at my age)

“So, yeah.  So I went to try and put more air in it, but dude.  It’s the spare.  So I couldn’t find the valve on it.  Crazy, right?”

“Well, it sure is grown up of you to make your dentist appointment.”

“Yeah thanks for the ride.”

“All I ask is a selfie.   Wait a minute…why isn’t it working?”

“I think you turned the camera back around.”

*click*

“Take care Mrs. H.”

“You take care too, Justin.”

Remind me not to let you borrow my car.

Remind me not to let you borrow my car.

He thinks I’m crazy, but I’m just growin’ old