So many sirens wailing,

that the neighbours dog is howling.

The sun is shining 

on a perfect summer day.

An emergency response helicopter flies over head.

The breeze is tossing my blue geraniums.  

I do a quick mental check of where my loved ones are.  

At work, at a friend's, at home. Safe.

Daily blessings of being alive and well.

And  send up a silent prayer for whoever is being flown away.

all creatures great and small

Tender hearted child with a knack for finding dead creatures.

A  wild rabbit, decomposing, and very ugly in death.  

She cried, horrified, and reminded of her little pet bunny that had died.

"Please can you bury it mom?"

"Can we wait for daddy to do it?" I ask, with my stomach churning.

Tears stream down her face.

I grab a cardboard box and a shovel and go and bury the wild rabbit, decomposing, and very, very ugly in death.  Trying to think of the child and not the rabbit.

Norah asked me to help her find a bible text, " the one about God making the creatures and that it was good". We put the sign beside the buried wild rabbit.  We sang. 

"God sees the little bunny fall, 

it meets His tender view,

If God so loves the little things,

I know He loves me too."

Marten said, "He loves us much more than the animals".

My heart is warmed.

And I am thankful

for a childlike faith.

And I am thankful

that these children live a life in which the ugliness of death is only found in dead little creatures.  I think of the refugee families in the Congo that our church is hoping to bring to Canada.  The very, very ugly death that is part of their living. 

at home

further thoughts on the craving for beauty...

Contentment, thankfulness for what is today and what is here.

Creativity can be nurtured in our own back yard.

Seeing eyes can be sharpened here.

Ears can learn to hear the music of home.

Restless spirits can open up to the everyday things that God has placed all around us.

Today is dad's birthday.  We are off to visit with him.  Thankful that dear dad and opa is available to us, to bless us with his love and wisdom.  

the cowboy within

What is  the lure of the wild places? Magnificent vistas? The smell of the sage?  A poetry of the dust and the sweat? A homecoming? Louis l'Amour and Alan Jackson? Guitars and banjos.

What draws us to the desolate, the empty places? 

The cowboy within?

Brother Hermen sent some photos of his cattle drive. It put me into a state of introspection.

I am trying to understand this restlessness of spirit.  

Away, away, up and beyond the common.

Is it a desire from deep inside that compels us to crave these things? 

Or an image of ourselves that we have nurtured?

The smell of salt water and the crash of the surf? 

Colourful fishing boats and celtic flutes? 

The artist within?

The allure of decrepit abandoned buildings.  

Old farmhouses, someone else's dream long forgotten? 

The historian within?

The need to hike past the mountain meadows to the peaks beyond. 

 Alpine flowers and mountain goats?  

The mountaineer within? 

The urge to take the gravel roads? To slowly wind through unfamiliar countryside?  

Eyeing real estate and weighing possibilities? 

The pioneer within?

I am trying to understand.  Is it an  image that is created for oneself?  Perhaps a little. 

Is it selfish? Perhaps, a little, but it doesn't have to be.  

It can be shared and nurtured within our families. 

Exposing the grandeur of the Father Creator 

to the child created within.

Is it from the heart? God breathed? I believe so.

The response to wild and lonely that leaves one breathless 

with a lump in the throat and a bursting heart.  

earthly splendour

Life is beautiful, so much loveliness in nature, in art, in literature, in music.

Such amazing friendships, such love for family.

No wonder we want to hang on for dear life, fingers clutching at straws, hands grasping for life lines.

I wonder what God thinks.  

"My child, what I have prepared for you is so much better, so infinitely better!   Unsurpassed paradise, the Word alive, heavenly music, fellowship with the saints and angels, fellowship with the Triune God.

I am thinking of a dying aunt, of a young mother facing a terminal disease,

 of a friend's ailing parent.

Would I be ready?

Speaking with my dad on this matter, he said, "every day we need to focus on the next life".

and we don't, 

until we are pushed to. 

Today I am thankful for my friends and for my family,

for my husband and my children.

Frail and faulty, but co heirs of eternity.

God is Good.

the results of an afternoon of painting, 

Marten's mourning dove

Norah's chickadee

My chickadee

Children can be taught to observe shapes, colours, lines, textures.  With an appreciation for their subjects they learn to see.  I guide them but do not help them.

We teach them to play music and correct misplaced notes.  We encourage them to draw but often don't give correction.  When they understand  they can take their skills and compose testimonies to the created world.

rainy day bliss

Rain gives a wonderful excuse for putting painting the porch on hold and spending some much needed time with the little ones, painting pictures.

 When the rain stopped we  rushed outdoors to watch the glistening drops resting on the leaves and the blossoms.