the concert of life

I counted 26 mourning doves on the wires before a few flew off.

It made me think of music, notes perched on the treble cleff, in a rather unimaginative tune.

It made me think of the well known quotation: "In the concert of life we receive no program".

It reminded me that the Maestro has the book ever before Him and that we don't need a program. We need to keep our eyes on Him and He leads note by note and moment by moment.

The year slips away and 2011 will bring challenged, enormous challenges. Yet each moment is orchestrated by the creator who has infinite love for us. Amazing!

chickadee and gold finch

Tiny creatures that live moment by moment, day by day,

never worrying about tomorrow.

mild weather

The surprisingly mild weather seems a gift. A reprieve.

The holiday season likewise a reprieve

before the whirlwind of appointments

and unknowns are plunged into.

In the meantime we sit,

quietly savoring the blessings of today.

ice

whispers

Like a whisper,

the wings whoosh in and out,

then momentarily stationary

but tail-a-tremble

and impossible to hold

this wee bird-

temporal.

inexplicable

Who can begin to understand the ways of God?

Circumstances can leave you bewildered

as life hurtles forward

and when you take a step back

it seems you gain perspective

and tensions ease.

christmas, for mom

The humble and the simple, clinging to life, in a stable, of all places.

Did His mother think..."No, not here, he can't be born here! The setting is not right, the atmosphere not proper for a king!"

In this week of christmas, I longed for voices raised in praise. Yet, when I did raise mine it was shrilly, in frustration. I wished for Martha Stewart and turned into Martha, complaining to Jesus, that sister Mary wasn't doing her share, nor was anyone else. Moms get tired and moms forget to get on their knees and listen to the child born humbly. Moms try to create atmosphere forgetting that God Himself came to a stable. Moms try to make sure everyone has gifts, forgetting that the Child had nothing. Moms go to church on Christmas and their ears don't hear the message the shepherds heard in amazement.

Some mom's hold broken children and need to feel the Christ child's love. This child holds a broken mother and slowly the love seeps into her. And finally the message sinks in.

Humble, broken, and redeemed. In the still and small voice. In the small lousy stable. In a petty cranky heart. God passes through.

Feathers in the wind, clasping for dear life, learn to let go, to trust and be blown.

And He, wee child grown into a man, didn't complain. And He, wee child grown into God calls us all to Him. To trust, to let go, and to follow....one by one until He comes a second time.