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Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Saturday, July 27, 2013

And the Two Shall Become as One

    And the LORD God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a companion for him..."
It is a story oft told of a man and a maiden, yet somehow the tale of true love never grows cliche, and we never tire of hearing of the way that deep and abiding love springs up and grows between two souls. These two found their way to one another after a time of suffering and loss. And yet, when you know the way that the LORD God works, it does not seem strange that they were drawn to each other. Each found peace and strength in the other. And as we have watched their story unfold, we, their friends and family, have found encouragement, comfort and joy. God is good!
    And besides, who wouldn't want to travel to a destination wedding on St. John, Virgin Island? Twenty-five adults and five children did just that to watch Julie and Richard pledge their love to one another.
     Their joy is real. And so is ours.
     
It's a beautiful day for a wedding!
Getting ready for the big day!
Watching the Bride get ready!


 The flowers arrive
The ecru lace came from the Bride's mother's wedding dress.
Later, a Victorian locket was added with her parents' wedding pictures side-by-side.
 The tranquil and secluded beach where the wedding took place
Headed to the area where she will wait as the guests gather, this Bride was happy and relaxed!
 It's almost time!
 The Bride's niece Chloe oh so carefully places the petals on the walkway


 Here comes the Bride!

 Her joy was obvious!












 The Kiss
 "We did it!"



Part II to follow

Friday, June 28, 2013

In Search of Beauty


Is beauty an image? A reflection? A perception? An emanation? An illumination?
Swan beauty
Ralph Waldo Emerson was definitely onto something when he wrote:  

No reason can be asked or given why the soul seeks beauty. 
Beauty, in its largest and profoundest sense, is one expression for the universe. 
God is the All-Fair. 
Truth, and goodness, and beauty, are but different faces of the same All. 
But beauty in nature is not ultimate. 
It is the herald of inward and eternal beauty...

And I would add: 
This herald of an inward and eternal beauty calls to the souls of men 
to come and enter into a relationship with the author of all beauty,
the Creator Himself. 
For we are His image bearers. 
We are beings made in His image and stamped with an indelible longing 
for a grace and beauty that would transform us from within...
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Old Hands by ROD WILLIAMS Watercolor ~  x






Can I get an Amen?






Saturday, April 6, 2013

Go and Pray...

I used to hang my purse on the back door knob when I got home. (Now I put it on the laundry room door; I must have a thing for door knobs and purses.) At this point in my life (many many years ago) I had a four week old baby and a 16 month old toddler. The baby was feverish. I had called the pediatrician's office as soon as they opened and was given one of their coveted early morning appointments. At that point I scrap the plans for the day and am now on my way to the doctor's office.

The baby is already bundled up and in the car in his little infant seat. Getting him settled is the first of my trips to the car. My sixteen month old son is toddling around the house in his normal fashion. I grab him, put on his jacket, pick up the diaper bag, and begin to dig around in my purse for the keys. The keys are on a large silver bracelet type ring, thus relatively easy to find. No keys in the purse. I put the toddler down and search again. No keys. I sit down on the floor and carefully sift through the purse again. No keys. I move on to the diaper bag, checking every pocket. No keys. I am getting really worried.

What if my toddler had taken the keys out of my purse?

Everybody knows how children love keys. I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
   
I look my toddler in the eye, and ask, "Keys?"

He nods his head. I ask him, "Did you take Mommy's keys?"
He nods his head again.

At this point I don't know whether we are playing a nodding game or whether my son is really responding to my questions. I can feel the sense of panic beginning to rise. If he has taken them, I am up a creek without a paddle. I run over to the toy box with him in tow and quickly began to search, all the while saying, "Keys?" and hoping against hope that he will respond. No keys. I search the den quickly without success, and then I realize that I need to get the baby back out of the car. Done.

Doctor's appointments at my pediatrician's office are not that easy to come by, especially morning appointments, but that is the least of my worries. The baby is obviously feverish and my sixteen month old cannot tell me where he has put the keys. I am running all over the downstairs looking everywhere that I can think a toddler might put the keys...to no avail.

I start crying. I don't know what I am going to do. I look out the door to see if either of my neighbors who might let me borrow their cars are home. They are not. I am praying as I go through the house again.
I take a big gulp as the impression moves into my thoughts.

Go and pray.

"I am praying," I say to God in my head.

 The impression is stronger.

 Go and pray.

The Husband and I sleep in a heavy antique bed that belonged to my Momma's family. It has deep side rails and wide slats. When I am struggling with something, I will often go and kneel to pray on my side of the bed. I feel the impression ever so strongly as I move toward the bedroom, so I grab the baby and my toddler and off we go. I get the baby settled and then kneel down beside the bed. My toddler follows suit. My frustration with him starts to melt as I watch him bow his little head. I pray aloud and ask the Lord to heal my baby, to help me find my keys, and to bring some desperately needed peace to my heart and our home. I don't stay there long. Toddlers don't let you stay immobile long, even if it is for prayer. I remember that my son patted my hand as I finished praying out loud.

I look down as I open my eyes and began to pull myself up. As I do, I catch a glimpse of something glinting in the light.  I reach toward it. As my hand goes down between the bed rail and the side of the bed directly in front of me, there, caught on a slat, are the car keys on the big silver ring.

I am dumbfounded and in awe. God has directed me to the ONLY place where I would find the keys.

I know without a doubt that I would NEVER have looked there on my own,  and I would NEVER have found them had it not been for the fact that I felt impelled by the Holy Spirit to go kneel in that exact spot and pray. If the keys had fallen through, they would have fallen onto a flat box under the bed where I would NEVER have seen them. But they didn't. They were waiting there. For me to find them. When and only when I knelt to pray.
   
Kneeling to pray beside that bed is not something I do every day. I am usually praying on the run.
But that day, the impression was so strong.

Go and pray.

I wish I could tell you that I understand how prayer works. I don't. But I trust the One who calls us to follow Him into the marvelous and glorious mystery that is prayer.

All I know is that prayer is not about me. It is all about Him.


Monday, April 1, 2013

Song of My Heart


     They say that music soothes the savage beast...and I would agree that music readily touches my soul, perhaps even more quickly than the written or spoken word. Music is a language all its own, and I wish I knew more about neuropsychology and the way music operates on the brain...wait, no I don't...that would only feed my life-long obsession with the acquisition of knowledge. All I need to know is that music calls to me, music ministers to me, music touches me. Music also ushers me into the presence of God. And there is no more glorious music than the music surrounding the Passion of Christ.
     Like many of you older folk, I grew up with The Old Rugged Cross. My grandparents loved it, my husband's grandparents loved it, and my mother-in-law wanted it played at her memorial service. It was.

On a hill far away stood an Old Rugged Cross, 
the emblem of suffering and shame; 
and I love that old cross where the dearest and best 
for a world of lost sinners was slain.

     I remember as a child wondering why I should love that old cross, for the death that the One died upon it seemed so terrifying and horrible to me, but as I grow older, I have come to value the sacrifice and to see the cross for its terrible and enduring beauty. For in it or upon it, lies the means of grace. The Way to the Father. My way to the Father. The cross represents my adoption record. Fully paid. Fully satisfied. And because of that cross I am afforded the privilege of being the daughter of the Most High, His child. And He is my Abba, my Papa. It still seems unbelievable to me.
     Yet my all-time favorite Easter hymn is the more modern Easter Song written by Keith Greene,

Hear the bells ringing, they're singing that you can be born again
Hear the bells ringing, they're singing Christ is risen from the dead.
The angel up on the tombstone said, "He is risen just as he said. 
Quickly now, go tell his disciples that Jesus Christ is no longer dead."
Joy to the World, He has risen, Hallelujah
He is risen, Hallelujah...

      Without fail, I always cry when I sing this song. I love that it brings Christmas, The Cross, and the Empty Tomb together in such a wonderful way. Joy to the World. Yes! I can seemingly never get enough of all that Christ offers me. Daily I find myself in sore need of His redemption, His grace, and His mercy. I am ever thankful that He freely offers me this and more. I scarce can take it in.
      Be Thou My Vision is not an Easter hymn per se, but this ancient church melody is the cry of my heart today:
Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that thou art -
Thou my best thought by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.
           
Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine inheritance, now and always
Thou and thou only, first in my heart,
High King of Heaven, my treasure thou art.
    
  High King of Heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heav'n's sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my vision, O Ruler of All. 


     Without a doubt, I am so very thankful to be His.

Sunday, March 24, 2013

The Hope of Spring

   Once upon a time a crotchety and quite skeptical English don of no small intellectual mettle reluctantly found his way to faith in Jesus Christ and we are all the better for it. From the classic Mere Christianity to the incomparably magical Chronicles of Narnia, Clive Staples Lewis, better known as C.S. Lewis, continues to push us and prod us to believe in more than we dare and to hope against all hope that there may be found within the wintry heart of man a means of grace that brings with it a solid hope of spring.

Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.
                                                 The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe

Source: Uploaded by user via Jo on Pinterest







Jesus is risen just as He said He would

   
And heaven and nature sing.
And the song is spring
And spring becomes the fount of Hope in the frozen heart of man.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Slowing the Pace of the Frenzied Life

   Slow down. Take a deep breath. Do you find yourself or those that you know living overwrought, frenetic lives? Are you distracted and weary? Do you spend too much time in the car? Are you consumed with guilt at the thought of taking a bit of time for yourself with nothing particular in mind?

   Ask yourself when was it was that you last curled up in bed or on the sofa with a good book, or even better yet, wrote a letter to someone that you love. Have you forgotten how to doodle? Or are scared to try to craft that poem or are you too busy to take the time to write down the hymn you love so well and tuck it someplace special? Do these just sound like guilty pleasures that you cannot allow yourself to indulge? Sadly, our culture has lost the art of rest. We are constantly in motion from dawn to dusk. The notion of productivity rules much of our day. It's time to put the phone on mute, forget where the car keys reside, turn off the computer, ignore the laundry, and do what it takes to take a break. To stop.

   I dare you to set aside the tasks at hand. Sit in silence for just a few minutes. Become aware of your own breathing. Then let the random thoughts come. Go with them.

    Perhaps there really is a special someone who needs to be reminded that you still care about them and a handwritten note (not an email) is the only thing that will suffice. Or better yet, maybe it is finally time for you to dig out that journal and begin once again to record the refrain or the jumble of words that are continually running through your mind.

   There is no time like the present.  Grab a cup of coffee, take a seat and join with me in celebrating the singular beauty of the written word.

You might want to begin with a hand-made book like this one from The Nib and Quill

Add some vintage calligraphy pens from Birdie Vintage Home on Etsy

Add a Victorian inkwell, of course. (From Corvidae Curiosity)
Vintage Victorian Ornate Brass Double Inkwell Footed
And then some lovely inks. This particular ink is handmade from acorns and 
is the same type of ink that was used long ago to sign the Declaration of Independence.
Calligraphy - home made acorn Drawing  ink.
You can totally go old school and even sharpen your own feather quills if you wish.
3 - 16" Assorted Peacock Quill Feathers - Cruelty Free - Humane -  No.703D
Round your desktop out with this lovely antique ink blotter from ArtinBoxes
Antique Leather Ink Blotter, Fleur de Leaf Design in Gold
And if you somehow find yourself lacking inspiration, here are some ideas to help you get started

Graduation gift, Calligraphy Custom, Inspiration, Encouragement,  Bible Scripture Verse, Jeremiah 33, verse 3
Source: etsy.com via Kathy on Pinterest




Source: resistenza.es via Jim on Pinterest




   Are you with me yet?



 Even He knew when to rest.

Oh, and a Bic pen and a sheet of notebook paper will work just fine!