reds

Identity?

How do we identify ourselves?

Somehow these labels we attach to each other should be placed in a hierarchy. Nurse, photographer, dancer, teacher, landscaper, doctor, mechanic, athlete, preacher, student, jogger, hiker, mom, dad, sister, brother, daughter, son, musician? Which label is most significant? Often we give our lives meaning by what we accomplish and by what we hope to achieve.

Where does the label "christian" fit in? Does it trump all the other things that we have ascribed to ourselves? Or does it only show up somewhere tucked between our various identities. Or is it so woven into the fabric of our person that it colours all these different parts of who we are?

Surprisingly some of the poppies in the wildflower patch are still blooming

though light snow swirled and October has come to an end.

today

Today the family was fed and clothed and warmed,

little ones taught, the new shed was painted.

The sky was lovely, its beauty there for the taking whenever I chose to look up.

A lot of pondering can be done with a paintbrush in hand...

I just don't have any words to show for it...

with opa

in autumn

In the autumn they fall and float on october breezes

downwards to the soil from which they stretched

in the spring of their existence,

to return to the dust.

The autumn leaves are most colorful,

most striking and most memorable.

Perhaps it is also their short-levity that

makes them so noteworthy.

Perhaps it is when we are faced with autumn days in our loved ones we realize how deeply we appreciate and love them and the moments seem more precious.

Is it tears that highlight the lines that prove experience?

littlest one

It seems that a child is officially no longer a little one

when he turns 5

and when he sits solid and strong on my lap

and when I wonder when he became so big

and when he tries to reason with me

and sometimes makes good sense.

And a mother realizes that time is running away with her children but that time is really running towards eternity and all is well. Moments are meant to be savored and little people are meant to be snuggled and breathed in and breathed on and prayed over.

rainy day service

Barefooted preacher regales the congregants

with the story of Joseph sold as slave.

Those of plush sit quietly while those of flesh sing lustily

their favourite "Hymn 1a" and "Glory Be".

Deacon Tom hands around a collection jar and hums an interlude.

And their mama is allowed to sing along.

autumn colors

canopy above

It seems that the world swirls around the insignificant observer

when one looks up at the canopy high overhead.

out'nabout

Earth's Eye

A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is earth's eye, looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.

Henry David Thoreau

sisters

side by side on a sunshiny sunday these sisters read

colors and textures

Sometimes we see things green

sometimes we see them red

Sometimes we don't see colour at all,

monochromatic vision hanging like a cloud over our heads,

until the fatigue and gloom empty themselves

and the sun shines bright on a vivid world.

autumn

Well, autumn is here, the wind blows and the branches sway and the leaves dance wildly about.

Some of our trees are blown bare and their skeletons catch us by surprise. Just yesterday we were out bare legged and bare armed and today we need sweaters and footwear out of doors.

time

It seems that days and weeks and seasons and years slip by. Yesterday was 8 years since he slipped a ring on my finger. He brought home roses for me, pink tinged petals. And the petals are like so many days and moments and memories- some tinged yellow and some lovely pink and others one of the many numerous shades in between. Sometimes I want to peel them back to discover the colors hidden inside but perhaps it is wiser to leave them be.

I love these colors, soft and subtle and not red.

frost

time for thanksgiving

What I really wanted to do was go somewhere where the colors would be spectacular, where the loons cry and where the mist floats off the lakes in the early morning.

Sometimes projects seem endless, but projects mean progress and a part and parcel of owning an old century home. And I cannot help but be thankful for the work accomplished and for the happy, enthusiastic team of painters. Each one of them special, healthy, happy, and God's child.

Sometimes cooking a turkey seems ridiculous to me. Too much work and effort when I'd rather be doing something else. Yet I could not help but be thankful for all the faces sitting around the dinner table enjoying the abundance of the season.

Faith, family and freedom and abundant blessings beyond.

roadside

pondside

books and more books

Little brown eyed fellow drew this, patiently, over a few days,

a little pink tongue peeping out of his mouth.

Big brown eyed fellow built the shelves last year

and I quickly filled them.

Little blue eyed girl read The Magician's nephew in one day.

Little blue eyed boy is starting to read,

little brown eyed learning his letters.

Big girl is studying literature and off to Oxford for a semester.

and their mom .... loves books.

morning

I was out early today when the stars were bright

and slowly they disappeared and the sky glowed orange

and the orange faded into bright blue

and the morning rays blazed the trees into vivid reds and yellows.

New morning

new mercies.

lines and designs

simplicity

Snippets of reality- that is all we know.

Not by only the shadows

nor by only the lines and colors

nor by only peeping through the hole

can we really understand-

the complete picture is simply not obvious..

yet.

We went to another funeral today, another parent of a friend, which is becoming all too common (and yet, I am a generation removed) and it raises questions. Questions about why and how and it raises the awareness that one day soon all questions will be answered but that for now we can think and wonder and trust and obey and worship and be thankful for the days alloted.

sunflower bud

It is not only the bloom or the promise of the bloom that is beautiful-

sometimes the bud itself is worthy of admiration.

We anticipate new life but need to see and admire the world around us.

Beauty speaks.

today.

juvenile great blue heron

flowers tossed

.."and the rain came down as the floods came up"

flowers tossed create an image of a sea tossing and rain pelting down