Blackberry season is here! We celebrated the rich ripe sweetness with plenty of picking, followed by a hot date night with my husband and I making jam, and canning it. (while our kids were at a friends' house)
In the midst of the fun of the weekend, which included a get together with friends, a wedding, blackberry fun, and a going away blessing party, we also had many prayers on our hearts.
Dear, sweet friends of ours are undergoing a major storm in their lives. Their sweet seven-year-old daughter (who also has a rascally sense of humor) underwent surgery today to be fitted with a halo. She'll be in traction for six weeks, and then undergo a more major surgery - one that has only been performed 5 times in the world, and she'll have three surgeons working on her during that time. Our friends need marjor support in prayer, in presence, and in just dealing with the every day mess, and bills. The mom in the family will live with her daughter at the hospital, while the Dad works, and the older brother goes to school. Grandparents are marshalling their support, along with friends.
You may remember that our church sent a family to Disneyland . . . this is that family.
So we have been praying a lot for them, and we know they need more ongoing prayers.
In addition to that, we have friends who are moving away, accepting a Pastoral call and a family call to a ministry in Post Falls, Idaho. We have known them, and considered them sweet, good friends for 10 years, and it is really hard to say Godspeed. We'll keep in touch, but it won't be the same. Our lives have been inter-connected for so long that although we are excited for the blessings they are receiving, we are also saddened by the fact that we won't see them at least once a week.
Today, we transition in one more way . . . we are going on a mini-vacation tonight, with my parents in charge of the house, dogs, and cat. We are excited to have one last splash of summer before school starts. However, intermixed with all of the joy is the ongoing concern and prayer for our friends.
So, it's blackberry season. Sweet fruit, big thorns . . . all mixed together like life.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Campaign Plunge
I've decided to take the campaign plunge, by joining Rachael Harris' Third Writers' Platform Building Campaign. It sounds like awesome writing fun, and a great way to encourage and build each other up as writers.
The last time she hosted a campaign, I saw some of the really cool fests that fellow bloggers were participating in, and I struggled with writer envy. Seriously. She knows how to hosts some fun events. So, if you would like to get know fellow bloggers with similar interests, join in on some awesome writing fests, I recommend joining the Third Writers' Platform Building Campaign.
I admit, I sat on the fence a few days thinking of this . . . just because my life feels slightly swamped with awesome blessings . . . but then I decided I would join in and try it anway.
Sparkfest: Doomed to be a Writer
Sparkfest re-post?! Believe it or not, the month of July was so crazy with busy-ness and sick kids that I actually thought the sparkfest started on July 22nd - I literally was a month early when I first posted "Doomed to be a writer". Considering that I am usually 15 minutes late to everything, and hope to be late to my funeral . . .well, it was interesting timing for me. Kind of embarassing really. Anyway, here it is again. Doomed to be a writer -
Sparkfest is an awesome Blogfest hosted by Christine Tyler at The Writer Coaster
We get a choice of three questions, or the wonderful random choice of making up a little bit of our own idea and mixing it with the theme . . . which is more the way I write already.
So, I thought about the question: which book made you realize you were doomed to be a writer?
And I have to say . . . all of them. Really, every book I read makes me realize that I'm doomed to be a writer. Whether I love the books I read, or strongly dislike them to the point of barely restraining myself from the urge to throw them across the room . . . I still come away wanting to write. And I love reading. I read like I breathe. I read fiction all the time, and non-fiction every day in smaller doses. Every time I put a book down, I am filled with the compelling urge to write, and write, and write again.
Sometimes the perfect, sweet, wow, amazing, incredible books fill me with a bittersweet hope that I will write like that someday.
Sometimes the awful, disgusting beyond belief, yuck, crummy, no-way-would-the-heroine-be-that-naive books fill me with the need to write a better story.
I can't remember the first book that made me realize that I'm doomed and blessed to be a writer, but each time I read I feel the need for paper and pen, or keyboard and screen.
If you haven't joined Sparkfest - go and sign up. Or just add your thoughts to the comment section - what book (s) fill you with the urge to write?
Scripture Blessings:
"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light." Genesis 1:3
Sparkfest is an awesome Blogfest hosted by Christine Tyler at The Writer Coaster
We get a choice of three questions, or the wonderful random choice of making up a little bit of our own idea and mixing it with the theme . . . which is more the way I write already.
So, I thought about the question: which book made you realize you were doomed to be a writer?
And I have to say . . . all of them. Really, every book I read makes me realize that I'm doomed to be a writer. Whether I love the books I read, or strongly dislike them to the point of barely restraining myself from the urge to throw them across the room . . . I still come away wanting to write. And I love reading. I read like I breathe. I read fiction all the time, and non-fiction every day in smaller doses. Every time I put a book down, I am filled with the compelling urge to write, and write, and write again.
Sometimes the perfect, sweet, wow, amazing, incredible books fill me with a bittersweet hope that I will write like that someday.
Sometimes the awful, disgusting beyond belief, yuck, crummy, no-way-would-the-heroine-be-that-naive books fill me with the need to write a better story.
I can't remember the first book that made me realize that I'm doomed and blessed to be a writer, but each time I read I feel the need for paper and pen, or keyboard and screen.
If you haven't joined Sparkfest - go and sign up. Or just add your thoughts to the comment section - what book (s) fill you with the urge to write?
Scripture Blessings:
"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light." Genesis 1:3
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Sparkfest: The horse in the well
What? You've never heard of "The Horse in the Well" - one of the greatest stories from my child hood?
Just kidding.
In my early years, "The Horse in the Well" was my favorite bed-time story at my Grandma's house. My Grandparents lives just across the street from me. When my parents decided to move to Enumclaw in 1974, my mom's parents discovered that the house across the street from our dream home was for sale, and they managed to buy it and finish moving in before we did.
Spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa's house became a regular, and delightful part of my childhood. I would ask if I could spend the night there, even if my parents weren't going out on a date night. Everything about bedtime at their house was just a bit different than ours. Instead of sleeping in my familiar second story room, I was in the second bedroom - the guest room in their tiny two bedroom home. A pink, fuzzy slip-cover adorned the wide guest bed, and my Grandmother had a collection of ladies gloves and scarves in the top drawer in the guest room. I liked to try them on before she came in to tell me bed-time stories.
At my house, my mom would read to me every night: one book, and the Bible. I loved hearing her voice, and the familiar stories. Books are meant to be read aloud. There is a certain rythm and beauty to a story well-read.
At my grandparent's house, my grandma would tell me stories without a book in hand. For a while I was fascinated with how many she knew and how she could tell them so well. She knew many standard stories like Goldilocks, The Three Little Pigs, and Sleeping Beauty. Her voice would strengthen and soften in all the right parts. However, her best stories were ones that couldn't be found in any book. They were stories from her life like: The Boy Who Fell in the Ice, The House that Caught on Fire, The Man who Played the Fiddle like a Violin, and my favorite, The Horse in the Well.
In nearly all of these stories, my grandmother's voice would become passionate and tender. Her voice and face portrayed a strength of memories and emotions. As a teen, when she lived in our home so we could care for her after a stroke, I asked her to write the stories down. They weren't the same on paper. I wish I had tape recorded her voice telling those stories.
Even after the stroke, when she spoke those stories aloud there was power in the words. I could picture her brother Clayton (always the hero in each of the stories), the mare and her foal, the old well cover, the fall, and the heroic climb from the bottom of the well with the foal on my great-uncle Clayton's shoulders. I could even picture my grandma as a little girl, with her sister Edna, both half-up the fence, with their feet on a lower rung, and their arms over the top, wishing they could help, and knowing they couldn't step in front of the mare who ran wildly around the well.
After hearing stories like that, I wanted to tell my own. I rarely ever write stories from my real life, but I consider it now and then when I think of my grandmother's voice rising and falling to a hush in the right moments. Storytelling is the heart of writing, and I long to capture the truth and passion of life in words.
Just kidding.
In my early years, "The Horse in the Well" was my favorite bed-time story at my Grandma's house. My Grandparents lives just across the street from me. When my parents decided to move to Enumclaw in 1974, my mom's parents discovered that the house across the street from our dream home was for sale, and they managed to buy it and finish moving in before we did.
Spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa's house became a regular, and delightful part of my childhood. I would ask if I could spend the night there, even if my parents weren't going out on a date night. Everything about bedtime at their house was just a bit different than ours. Instead of sleeping in my familiar second story room, I was in the second bedroom - the guest room in their tiny two bedroom home. A pink, fuzzy slip-cover adorned the wide guest bed, and my Grandmother had a collection of ladies gloves and scarves in the top drawer in the guest room. I liked to try them on before she came in to tell me bed-time stories.
At my house, my mom would read to me every night: one book, and the Bible. I loved hearing her voice, and the familiar stories. Books are meant to be read aloud. There is a certain rythm and beauty to a story well-read.
At my grandparent's house, my grandma would tell me stories without a book in hand. For a while I was fascinated with how many she knew and how she could tell them so well. She knew many standard stories like Goldilocks, The Three Little Pigs, and Sleeping Beauty. Her voice would strengthen and soften in all the right parts. However, her best stories were ones that couldn't be found in any book. They were stories from her life like: The Boy Who Fell in the Ice, The House that Caught on Fire, The Man who Played the Fiddle like a Violin, and my favorite, The Horse in the Well.
In nearly all of these stories, my grandmother's voice would become passionate and tender. Her voice and face portrayed a strength of memories and emotions. As a teen, when she lived in our home so we could care for her after a stroke, I asked her to write the stories down. They weren't the same on paper. I wish I had tape recorded her voice telling those stories.
Even after the stroke, when she spoke those stories aloud there was power in the words. I could picture her brother Clayton (always the hero in each of the stories), the mare and her foal, the old well cover, the fall, and the heroic climb from the bottom of the well with the foal on my great-uncle Clayton's shoulders. I could even picture my grandma as a little girl, with her sister Edna, both half-up the fence, with their feet on a lower rung, and their arms over the top, wishing they could help, and knowing they couldn't step in front of the mare who ran wildly around the well.
After hearing stories like that, I wanted to tell my own. I rarely ever write stories from my real life, but I consider it now and then when I think of my grandmother's voice rising and falling to a hush in the right moments. Storytelling is the heart of writing, and I long to capture the truth and passion of life in words.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Sparkfest: Long ago in a galaxy far, far away
Sparked by a Movie Again!
A Long Time Ago in galaxy Far, Far Away . . .
I watched a movie that fed my imagination with more flight, with a fight for justice against overwhelming odds and evil, a Princess with spunk, a young man/boy with a new vision, a rebel without a cause and his best furry friend, and a wise man without enough time to teach his student to use the force.
Maybe it's just my generation, but this movie and the series of movies affected the way that I played, dreamed, and wrote stories. I didn't venture into writing sci-fi until my college years, but I certainly daydreamed, played "pretend" with my cousins and imagined new Star Wars plots.
For me, the Star Wars movies were deeply meaningful, fun, and fulfilling. They hit me on many levels. Today I'll just mention one: the spiritied heroine.
The idea that a woman could be beautiful, strong of mind and spirit and be the romantic lead was awesome. I never wanted to be a Princess in a tiara and a spotless dress. Princess Leia gave me hope that I could at least pretend to be a Princess with spunk, fire, and strength - even if my dress got dirty in a trash compactor.
In all of my writing, I hope to create heroines like Leia . . . well, maybe not exactly like Leia, but determined, pivotal characters who take a stand against injustice, fight for their people, and still have time for some romance while fixing a spaceship in a swamp that turns out to be the stomach of a planet dwelling giant alien.
Sparkfest is an awesome blogfest hosted by Christine Tyler. The official questions to answer are:
What book made you realize you were doomed to be a writer?
What author set off that spark of inspiration for your current Work in Progress?
Or, Is there a book or author that changed your world view?
As writers, we're always striving to get out a message of inspiration to others. This blogfest is a celebration for those who have done this for us. Join the Spark Blogfest, aka Sparkfest, by posting your answer to any of the three prompts above (or make one up as long as it fits the theme).
I admit, I've kind of gone into the "make one up" and hope it fits the theme. I'm looking at all the storytellers who sparked my imagination and drive to write great stories. Tomorrow, I'm going to write about the first storyteller and reader to touch my life, and then I'll write about books and authors . . .really, I will.
Scripture Blessings:
"On the Sabbath we went outside the city gate to the river, where we expected to find a place of prayer. We sat down and began to speak to the women who had gathered there. One of those listening was a woman named Lydia, a dealer in purple cloth from the city of Thyatira, who was a worship of God. The Lord opened her heart to respond to Paul's message. When she and members of her household were baptized, she invited us to her home. 'If you consider me a believer in the Lord,' she said, 'come and stay and my house.' And she persuaded us." Acts 16:13-15
(This Scripture is dear to me because it portrays one of the strong women of the Bible, who is often overlooked. We have to realize that in the time of these events, women were not often treated well. To have one show up in the Biblical narrative shows that women were leaders in the early church within their societal roles. The Bible is one of the few ancient books, and one of the few religious works, that shows women acting as role models and leaders. Just read it, and see.)
Monday, August 22, 2011
Sparkfest: Off to Neverland
(Disney Image)
Sparkfest: Off to Neverland
“We’re off to Neverland. Here we go . . .”
Sitting in the theatre, watching Peter, Wendy, Jon, and Michael fly around the Darling nursery, then around Big Ben and into the starry sky – straight on until morning – that moment sparked my imagination for the first, fully amazed moment in my memory.
I don’t know if I was an imaginative child before that. My earliest memories are about running with my dog past my mom’s row of sunflowers. After Peter Pan, I daydreamed of flying to far off, magical places. Neverland had endless possibilities. My second story bedroom window seemed like the perfect launching place for flight, and I liked to leave it ajar, just in case.
It helped that my airplane mechanic Dad had his own Ercoupe, and I had been flying with my parents in that from the age of two months. Flight has always been and always will be a part of my dreams.
(pic from Young Eagles website of an Ercoupe 415c)
Sparkfest invites us to remember who, and what sparked our writing. Before I started writing my stories, I was daydreaming them, flying through night skies and blue days. Before I read Peter Pan, I sang the songs from the Disney movie, and danced and leaped through my own creative re-tellings of the story in my bedroom, in our living room, and in our yard, from tire-swing to tree branch – anything that could almost capture the feeling of flight.
And now, I feel an urge building to write a little story about that . . .
Then, I’ll try to figure out how to “fly” through my novel revision . . .
Enjoy Sparkfest this week! If you want to know more, visit The Writer Coaster: The Spark Blogfest
Scripture Blessings:
“but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Barefoot in the Park Birthday
(Photo by David April)
Have you ever walked barefoot in the park, or just the grass outside, and let the cool seep in through the soles of your feet on a hot summer day?
Have you ever truly stopped to smell a rose?
Or dipped your toes in cool water?
Eaten watermelon for lunch?
Today's my 40th's birthday.
I've been asked these last few weeks to plan a celebration or allow my husband to surprise me, and I just couldn't. There were too many other events on the horizon . . . or at least that's what I told myself. I didn't think that 40 mattered that much to me, but suddenly it did.
It felt heavy. A day that full of weight, circumstance, and measure. I started to weight and measure the circumstances of my life and ask myself these kinds of questions: What had I done with my life that mattered, really? Had I succeeded, lost enough weight, measured up?
Until I woke at 3a.m. this morning and realized, I would rather walk barefoot in the park and smell the roses than measure my life's worth against some kind of crazy scale of worldly success.
That's never been me, so why would I think of doing that on my birthday?!
So today and tomorrow (I can't just celebrate once!) I'm going to walk barefoot in cool grass, eat watermelon for lunch, dip my toes in the ocean, smell roses, go for a walk, and spend some time on, near, and in the water.
If you would like to help me celebrate my birthday, I invite you to walk barefoot in the grass, eat watermelon, smell a rose, enjoy some water in a lake, ocean, or river. Enjoy life!
"Rejoice in the Lord always. Again, I say: Rejoice!" Philippians 4:4
Thursday, August 18, 2011
WriteOnCon, Walking On, and Writing
If I followed my schedule, I would be blogging about an important world concern that has touched my heart. There are many worthy topics there.
However, currently I am gathering wisdom from WriteOnCon, walking my legs off (they could use lots of that) with my youngest daughter and my mom, writing some fun new little pieces, and revising, and revising, and revising, and on and on.
So, here's to writing on, walking on, and revising on! Go writers!
If you haven't joined WriteOnCon, or checked it out, click on the link on my right sidebar. It's pretty awesome!
However, currently I am gathering wisdom from WriteOnCon, walking my legs off (they could use lots of that) with my youngest daughter and my mom, writing some fun new little pieces, and revising, and revising, and revising, and on and on.
So, here's to writing on, walking on, and revising on! Go writers!
If you haven't joined WriteOnCon, or checked it out, click on the link on my right sidebar. It's pretty awesome!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Acceptance, Revision, WriteOnCon, Kayaking, and Monetizing my Blog?
The Title and the Reality
The title of my blog sounds like too much. I can't possibly tackle all those topics at once, can I? Well, it's just all part of my life. I love how much God has blessed my life with family, friends, and purpose. Don't get me wrong about that. But there are moments when the purposes that God has placed in my life seem to conflict like multiple rocks thrown into a pond creating a maze of ripples that push against one another, and I strive to find a common theme, a moment that ties it all together.
So, Acceptance - it's awesome, isn't it? When someone accepts our writing, our work, a part of who we are? Yes, it is. However, in the writing world, and sometimes even in the real world, that acceptance comes with a list of suggested revisions from an editor/supervisor. "Yes, we want your story/poem/novel/idea, but we feel you need to make changes, here, here, here, and here, and oh, there too." Even when the revisions make our writing stronger, there is that moment when we first get THE list that feels like someone put rocks on our stomachs.
And it's not just me saying that, check out this video from Lindsey Leavit at WriteOnCon: The Debut Year where she shares the ups and downs of her debut year as an author, and exactly how she felt about the 12 page list of revisions she was given.
So, if you haven't joined Write On Con, I highly recommend it. I think it's running today and tomorrow. It's my first year checking it out, and the reality is, I don't have enough time to get everything out of it, but I'm enjoying the tidbits that fit into my life, like that video, and this short article Middle Grades Got Heart by Joanna Stampfel-Volpe.
All of these amazing tidbits mixed in with my ongoing revision of my current novel, and the poem that is going to be published (yay!) are working my writing muscles to the max, king of like how kayaking worked my stomach and back muscles to the max yesterday.
My oldest daughter is fully engaged with Junior Zookeeper Zoo Camp in the afternoons this week, and my youngest loves to kayak almost as much as I do. So away we went yesterday, for the first time in a year, kayaking south from Owen's Beach, across the ferry terminal docks and marina entrance and towards Ruston Way. Heavy boater traffic forced us to turn around, and to paddle harder than we normally would. At the time, if felt great. I was loving every moment (well, except when we weren't sure that power boat saw us - yikes!)and then we slowed down by the beach shoreline, and checked out crabs, jellyfish, sea stars, and lots of kelp. It felt wonderful to be out on the water.
By the time we returned to our starting point, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was even more out of shape than I realized. My stomach and back muscles were already protesting. In fact, I thought I might be sick from the pain in my stomach muscles. They burned and ached, and I wasn't sure I wanted to walk to my car. Lots of water and some ibuprofin later, I resolved to get serious again about getting into shape. I don't want my generally lazy nature to get in the way of having fun with my daughters.
How does this relate to writing at all? Well, I have a tendency to get lazy with my writing now and then, and when I decide to be serious, it takes a painful revision effort to get my writing into the kind of shape it needs to be in to be fun. That poem that's getting published? I revised it at least a dozen times already. And it still needed more.
This scares me a bit, when it comes to my novel revision. I keep calling this revision step my first revision, but it's not, not really. I started revising it twice before now, and then stopped to say . . . "oh, it just sucks too much." This is my third time with revision with the Crystal Sword. It's going better than it has before, and I am sticking through the painful, "cut-three-pages-at-once" and "take-those-characters-out-of-the-picture" parts. I'm a fifth of the way through it. I know I can finish it. I just have to crunch my way through the pages, much like I need to crunch my stomach every day, so I can kayak without pain.
And monetizing my blog? Well, not today, but it's a thought, maybe. Is it worth it? That's my question for all of the bloggers out there. Is monetizing worth it? What do you think?
Scripture Blessings:
"And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ - to the glory and praise of God." Philippians 1:9-11
The title of my blog sounds like too much. I can't possibly tackle all those topics at once, can I? Well, it's just all part of my life. I love how much God has blessed my life with family, friends, and purpose. Don't get me wrong about that. But there are moments when the purposes that God has placed in my life seem to conflict like multiple rocks thrown into a pond creating a maze of ripples that push against one another, and I strive to find a common theme, a moment that ties it all together.
So, Acceptance - it's awesome, isn't it? When someone accepts our writing, our work, a part of who we are? Yes, it is. However, in the writing world, and sometimes even in the real world, that acceptance comes with a list of suggested revisions from an editor/supervisor. "Yes, we want your story/poem/novel/idea, but we feel you need to make changes, here, here, here, and here, and oh, there too." Even when the revisions make our writing stronger, there is that moment when we first get THE list that feels like someone put rocks on our stomachs.
And it's not just me saying that, check out this video from Lindsey Leavit at WriteOnCon: The Debut Year where she shares the ups and downs of her debut year as an author, and exactly how she felt about the 12 page list of revisions she was given.
So, if you haven't joined Write On Con, I highly recommend it. I think it's running today and tomorrow. It's my first year checking it out, and the reality is, I don't have enough time to get everything out of it, but I'm enjoying the tidbits that fit into my life, like that video, and this short article Middle Grades Got Heart by Joanna Stampfel-Volpe.
All of these amazing tidbits mixed in with my ongoing revision of my current novel, and the poem that is going to be published (yay!) are working my writing muscles to the max, king of like how kayaking worked my stomach and back muscles to the max yesterday.
My oldest daughter is fully engaged with Junior Zookeeper Zoo Camp in the afternoons this week, and my youngest loves to kayak almost as much as I do. So away we went yesterday, for the first time in a year, kayaking south from Owen's Beach, across the ferry terminal docks and marina entrance and towards Ruston Way. Heavy boater traffic forced us to turn around, and to paddle harder than we normally would. At the time, if felt great. I was loving every moment (well, except when we weren't sure that power boat saw us - yikes!)and then we slowed down by the beach shoreline, and checked out crabs, jellyfish, sea stars, and lots of kelp. It felt wonderful to be out on the water.
By the time we returned to our starting point, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I was even more out of shape than I realized. My stomach and back muscles were already protesting. In fact, I thought I might be sick from the pain in my stomach muscles. They burned and ached, and I wasn't sure I wanted to walk to my car. Lots of water and some ibuprofin later, I resolved to get serious again about getting into shape. I don't want my generally lazy nature to get in the way of having fun with my daughters.
How does this relate to writing at all? Well, I have a tendency to get lazy with my writing now and then, and when I decide to be serious, it takes a painful revision effort to get my writing into the kind of shape it needs to be in to be fun. That poem that's getting published? I revised it at least a dozen times already. And it still needed more.
This scares me a bit, when it comes to my novel revision. I keep calling this revision step my first revision, but it's not, not really. I started revising it twice before now, and then stopped to say . . . "oh, it just sucks too much." This is my third time with revision with the Crystal Sword. It's going better than it has before, and I am sticking through the painful, "cut-three-pages-at-once" and "take-those-characters-out-of-the-picture" parts. I'm a fifth of the way through it. I know I can finish it. I just have to crunch my way through the pages, much like I need to crunch my stomach every day, so I can kayak without pain.
And monetizing my blog? Well, not today, but it's a thought, maybe. Is it worth it? That's my question for all of the bloggers out there. Is monetizing worth it? What do you think?
Scripture Blessings:
"And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight, so that you may be able to discern what is best and may be pure and blameless until the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ - to the glory and praise of God." Philippians 1:9-11
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Sunday Blessings August 14th
Sunday Blessings!
Music Blessings:
1. I'll Fly Away
2. Amazing Grace
3. Heart of Worship
4. Another Hallelujah
Worship Blessings:
5. Prayer
6. Communion
7. Sharing of the Peace
8. A great sermon!
Church Picnic Blessings
9. Fellowship at the park right after worship at the park!
10. Conversations and laughter
11. Small children, big kids, and adults who act like kids
12. Water balloon tosses, and bubble blowing contests.
Church Softball Blessings:
13. We played hard, we cheered for one another, and we had fun.
14. The team that beat us is playing in the finals, and they are a great bunch of people.
Reading/Home Blessings:
15. Sweet dogs, and cat, and quiet time.
16. Girls reading, beading, sewing, and playing.
17. Finishing a good book about true friendship, forged in the midst of sci-fi action.
CassaStar by Alex J. Cavanaugh starts slow, but builds tension and pacing quickly to reveal the heart and depth of friendship, in the midst of action packed, page turning space battle. I highly recommend this book, and I'm looking forward to the sequel, CassaFire. Plus if you happen to be a blogger, or just a blog-lover, I highly recommend Alex's blog Alex J. Cavanaugh - he writes a fun, friendly, and helpful blog for writers, readers, and movie lovers. He'll be hosting the Worst Movies Ever Blogfest in September. No one can make you wish you'd seen awful movies like Alex . . . so check it out.
Scripture Blessings:
John 14:6
"Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'"
Music Blessings:
1. I'll Fly Away
2. Amazing Grace
3. Heart of Worship
4. Another Hallelujah
Worship Blessings:
5. Prayer
6. Communion
7. Sharing of the Peace
8. A great sermon!
Church Picnic Blessings
9. Fellowship at the park right after worship at the park!
10. Conversations and laughter
11. Small children, big kids, and adults who act like kids
12. Water balloon tosses, and bubble blowing contests.
Church Softball Blessings:
13. We played hard, we cheered for one another, and we had fun.
14. The team that beat us is playing in the finals, and they are a great bunch of people.
Reading/Home Blessings:
15. Sweet dogs, and cat, and quiet time.
16. Girls reading, beading, sewing, and playing.
17. Finishing a good book about true friendship, forged in the midst of sci-fi action.
CassaStar by Alex J. Cavanaugh starts slow, but builds tension and pacing quickly to reveal the heart and depth of friendship, in the midst of action packed, page turning space battle. I highly recommend this book, and I'm looking forward to the sequel, CassaFire. Plus if you happen to be a blogger, or just a blog-lover, I highly recommend Alex's blog Alex J. Cavanaugh - he writes a fun, friendly, and helpful blog for writers, readers, and movie lovers. He'll be hosting the Worst Movies Ever Blogfest in September. No one can make you wish you'd seen awful movies like Alex . . . so check it out.
Scripture Blessings:
John 14:6
"Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.'"
Friday, August 12, 2011
Hunger
Hunger. 12 million people. Thirst. Pain. Death.
It's hard to imagine the scale of painful suffering that is taking place right now in the Horn of Africa. As we sit in our comfortable homes, sip on our expensive coffees, and drive our gas-guzzling cars, there are chilren and adults dying of hunger.
What can we do?
We can pray.
We can give.
We can change our lifestyles to free up our finances so we can give more freely.
Do we need all the stuff we buy ourselves?
Do we need that cup of coffee, or that bottle of soda?
How do we live a regular life while people are dying?
Are we turning a blind eye to the suffering?
Please understand, these are questions I am asking myself, and I hope that you consider them too.
For more information about giving through World Vision, an organization with a record of responsibility, please follow this link World Vision and Horn of Africa or watch the video.
It's hard to imagine the scale of painful suffering that is taking place right now in the Horn of Africa. As we sit in our comfortable homes, sip on our expensive coffees, and drive our gas-guzzling cars, there are chilren and adults dying of hunger.
What can we do?
We can pray.
We can give.
We can change our lifestyles to free up our finances so we can give more freely.
Do we need all the stuff we buy ourselves?
Do we need that cup of coffee, or that bottle of soda?
How do we live a regular life while people are dying?
Are we turning a blind eye to the suffering?
Please understand, these are questions I am asking myself, and I hope that you consider them too.
For more information about giving through World Vision, an organization with a record of responsibility, please follow this link World Vision and Horn of Africa or watch the video.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
15 Years
15 years ago,
I woke up to bright sunshine after a night of little sleep. Anticipation, nerves, and excitement ran through my veins, and every moment felt new, sharp with sweetness and excitement.
My soon-to-be husband, my dad, and my uncle all unloaded a moveable floor onto my parents back lawn next to their old patio. Instant dance floor.
My mom, my aunt, my best friend, and I folded a few more origami cranes, and walked through the plans for the food. We didn't have caterers, but family and friends would all pitch in to make sure the trays of food were put out and taken away at the reception. (In reality, I think my aunt and a church friend did 90 percent of the work.)
A friend of ours from our church brought my finished dress, and I eagerly put it on. It was perfectly lovely, and just right for me. Designed by a talented woman, stitched with care, and with added features like snaps to hold up the short train of my dress when I wanted to dance later, and the flowing sleeves to hide my surgery scars on my arms but not constrict my ability to hug everyone. No shop dress could have been as beautiful or fitting.
My shoes were another matter, purchased to please friends who thought I should wear heels. But I wore them for the ceremony, and the pictures, and then kicked them off to run and dance barefoot at the reception.
The wedding took place in a small brick church, stuffed full of family and friends, some of whom sat in the narthex because of the lack of seats inside. Pastor Martin lovingly conducted the ceremony and said a few short words about marriage. He had planned something a bit longer, but with the heat inside those brick walls, it seemed best to keep it short and sweet.
My aunt stuck her tongue out at my husband to keep him from getting the jitters, and we all shared laughter together throughout the ceremony. My husband's hands were warm just like mine, and we were both nervously happy. Despite dating for five years, we were still slightly cautious about this big step . . .this union between man and woman, husband and wife, bound together by the Holy Spirit, by our Lord Creator, and our Savior. We knew this would be forever, a lifetime commitment.
Then, we celebrated! We were married, we signed the papers, we walked to our reception through a grassy field behind the church, and into my parents back yard blooming with flowers that my family and I had planted just for this day. The apples were ripening on the old apple trees, we were tempted to stop and pick the last blueberries, but we continued on to the crowds at the rented tables, and immediately were swept into one grinning conversation after another.
My cousin and his band started to play fun music, and we danced, and we danced. Then we stopped to eat, and then everyone started to dance. We danced, and talked, and danced again until most of our guests had gone. Some were disgruntled that we didn't follow the "regular procedure" of being swept away in a limo after cutting the cake, but we wanted to celebrate with our friends and family on our wedding day. Our friends and family who stayed understood, and celebrated with us until after the sun went down. My cousin's band said they had never played before for such a lively, fun crowd.
My husband and I went away together, in our car bedecked in well wishes, into our future together, with face muscles that ached from smiling for hours on end.
And today, 15 years later, we are still smiling, and celebrating, still going into the future together with every step and every moment, with our Lord and Savior holding us close in our commitment to each other and to Him.
I am so thankful for my husband, my marriage, for our family and friends, and for our Savior who binds us together at all times, and in all seasons.
"Two are better than one,
because they have good return for their work;
if one falls down,
his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will
keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly
broken."
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
I woke up to bright sunshine after a night of little sleep. Anticipation, nerves, and excitement ran through my veins, and every moment felt new, sharp with sweetness and excitement.
My soon-to-be husband, my dad, and my uncle all unloaded a moveable floor onto my parents back lawn next to their old patio. Instant dance floor.
My mom, my aunt, my best friend, and I folded a few more origami cranes, and walked through the plans for the food. We didn't have caterers, but family and friends would all pitch in to make sure the trays of food were put out and taken away at the reception. (In reality, I think my aunt and a church friend did 90 percent of the work.)
A friend of ours from our church brought my finished dress, and I eagerly put it on. It was perfectly lovely, and just right for me. Designed by a talented woman, stitched with care, and with added features like snaps to hold up the short train of my dress when I wanted to dance later, and the flowing sleeves to hide my surgery scars on my arms but not constrict my ability to hug everyone. No shop dress could have been as beautiful or fitting.
My shoes were another matter, purchased to please friends who thought I should wear heels. But I wore them for the ceremony, and the pictures, and then kicked them off to run and dance barefoot at the reception.
The wedding took place in a small brick church, stuffed full of family and friends, some of whom sat in the narthex because of the lack of seats inside. Pastor Martin lovingly conducted the ceremony and said a few short words about marriage. He had planned something a bit longer, but with the heat inside those brick walls, it seemed best to keep it short and sweet.
My aunt stuck her tongue out at my husband to keep him from getting the jitters, and we all shared laughter together throughout the ceremony. My husband's hands were warm just like mine, and we were both nervously happy. Despite dating for five years, we were still slightly cautious about this big step . . .this union between man and woman, husband and wife, bound together by the Holy Spirit, by our Lord Creator, and our Savior. We knew this would be forever, a lifetime commitment.
Then, we celebrated! We were married, we signed the papers, we walked to our reception through a grassy field behind the church, and into my parents back yard blooming with flowers that my family and I had planted just for this day. The apples were ripening on the old apple trees, we were tempted to stop and pick the last blueberries, but we continued on to the crowds at the rented tables, and immediately were swept into one grinning conversation after another.
My cousin and his band started to play fun music, and we danced, and we danced. Then we stopped to eat, and then everyone started to dance. We danced, and talked, and danced again until most of our guests had gone. Some were disgruntled that we didn't follow the "regular procedure" of being swept away in a limo after cutting the cake, but we wanted to celebrate with our friends and family on our wedding day. Our friends and family who stayed understood, and celebrated with us until after the sun went down. My cousin's band said they had never played before for such a lively, fun crowd.
My husband and I went away together, in our car bedecked in well wishes, into our future together, with face muscles that ached from smiling for hours on end.
And today, 15 years later, we are still smiling, and celebrating, still going into the future together with every step and every moment, with our Lord and Savior holding us close in our commitment to each other and to Him.
I am so thankful for my husband, my marriage, for our family and friends, and for our Savior who binds us together at all times, and in all seasons.
"Two are better than one,
because they have good return for their work;
if one falls down,
his friend can help him up.
But pity the man who falls
and has no one to help him up.
Also, if two lie down together, they will
keep warm.
But how can one keep warm alone?
Though one may be overpowered,
two can defend themselves.
A cord of three strands is not quickly
broken."
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Saturday Sharing
"In our lives and in the church, we are never without revelation from God. At all times you and I have his message to us in all its power, authority, clarity, and might. We don't have to work to come up with a word from God; we siimply have to trust the Word he has already given us. When we do, the Word of God will accomplish the work of God among the people of God."
from p.40 Radical Together by David Platt
Just thought I would share a smidge of what I'm reading today. I'm feverish and not feeling well, but still reading some great books.
Hope all is well in blogland.
Psalm 119:105 (I think - reference in the other room) "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path."
from p.40 Radical Together by David Platt
Just thought I would share a smidge of what I'm reading today. I'm feverish and not feeling well, but still reading some great books.
Hope all is well in blogland.
Psalm 119:105 (I think - reference in the other room) "Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path."
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Writing Wednesday: Deadlines or Lifelines?
Deadlines or Lifelines?
Deadlines sound final, imposing, possibly even painful, or fatal.
Are they final? In some ways, yes. A certain time limit is given, and a certain word count, polish, and final touch to a story or article must be might. In some ways, no. The editor asks for a little revision, and a new deadline is set. The proofs come. The magazine/e-zine/anthology is published, and rejoiced over far past the last deadline for the writer. The work feels alive on the page. (even if one wants to tweak it just a little more to make it better)
Are deadlines imposing, possibly even painful? No. Well, yes. Well, No. At first a deadline is like a wonderful goal. Mini-goals are set to make it. Success feels certain. Then, a stumbling block arises, and the deadline hangs over one’s head like a guillotine. Then extra time is found, creativity is maximized, and the deadline is reached with a sense of satisfied freedom.
Are deadlines fatal? No. The deadline is a lifeline. When you know your work is wanted, needed, planned for, it gives encouragement, and shoots energy into the words.
Even when the deadline is self-imposed, there is a liveliness of writing to be found while racing the clock, or calendar.
What do you think of deadlines? Are they lifelines?
Scripture Blessings:
"'I am the Alpha and the Omega,' says the Lord God, 'who is, and who was, and who is to come, the Almighty.'" Revelation 1:8
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Tuesday, I love you.
Tuesday, Tuesday, Shoesday, Tuesday . . .
Tuesdays are my real Mondays . . . or at least that's what I like to think. Mondays fall apart just after the weekend, with weariness and busy-ness, and so much to conquer for the week.
Tuesdays sweetly slip by with a relaxed pace. I feel energized, and at peace with my giant checklist of "things to do". I feel like it's all possible (with God in charge).
Tuesdays feel like a comfortable pair of shoes.
Aaaah. Tuesday, I love you.
Tuesdays are the days when I begin/finish projects, and set aside time for the rest to happen throughout the week.
Tuesdays are the days when I don't mind if my writing is sloppy, but if there is a kernel of something good I embrace it.
On many Tuesdays, I actually get to classes/appointments early or on time . . . without painful struggle. If I get someplace on time on a Monday, it usually involves at least mental pain, and some important item being forgotten or lost. My daughters are usually lamenting a lack of sleep, an important item . . . or just something being lost. But on Tuesdays, we get where we are going. If we forget something, somehow it all works out.
Tuesdays are full of grace.
Plus, Tuesdays start with the letter "T" which is my favorite letter in the alphabet. T for tea, and T for Tyrean, and T for terrific. (Mondays are Moody, Tuesdays are Terrific, etc)
Do you have a favorite day of the week?
Scripture Blessings:
"But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it." Ephesians 4:7
Tuesdays are my real Mondays . . . or at least that's what I like to think. Mondays fall apart just after the weekend, with weariness and busy-ness, and so much to conquer for the week.
Tuesdays sweetly slip by with a relaxed pace. I feel energized, and at peace with my giant checklist of "things to do". I feel like it's all possible (with God in charge).
Tuesdays feel like a comfortable pair of shoes.
Aaaah. Tuesday, I love you.
Tuesdays are the days when I begin/finish projects, and set aside time for the rest to happen throughout the week.
Tuesdays are the days when I don't mind if my writing is sloppy, but if there is a kernel of something good I embrace it.
On many Tuesdays, I actually get to classes/appointments early or on time . . . without painful struggle. If I get someplace on time on a Monday, it usually involves at least mental pain, and some important item being forgotten or lost. My daughters are usually lamenting a lack of sleep, an important item . . . or just something being lost. But on Tuesdays, we get where we are going. If we forget something, somehow it all works out.
Tuesdays are full of grace.
Plus, Tuesdays start with the letter "T" which is my favorite letter in the alphabet. T for tea, and T for Tyrean, and T for terrific. (Mondays are Moody, Tuesdays are Terrific, etc)
Do you have a favorite day of the week?
Scripture Blessings:
"But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it." Ephesians 4:7