BENDAROOS!
Category: Learned
Creating at the Corning Museusm of Glass
We made our annual trip to CMOG, the Corning Museum of Glass, in September. Joel and Nora made fused-glass nightlights. Jonathan and I chose flamework, also called lampwork. He made a pendant and I made a bead.
Catch and Release
Come fishing with my kiddos!
Love is… Humble
perpereuomai: to boast
We’ve all met him. That little boy who has to have the last word, the better word, the BEST.
If you ran fast, he ran faster.
If you jumped high, he jumped higher.
If you had two, he had three… no, four… no, FIFTY!
Your father was six-feet tall; his was eight.
Your mom baked a pie; his mom baked a dozen.
Love is… Not Jealous
NASB: “Love… is not jealous…” Continue reading “Love is… Not Jealous”
Love is… Kind
Lest you think I’ve forgotten my effort to work through 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a, I haven’t… It’s just a longer process than I expected. Well, I expected it to be a life-long thing, to learn to love like that, but to think about how each trait should look in my life, to be consistently mindful of what I need to do to establish new habits, well, I’m a slow-learner. Continue reading “Love is… Kind”
Love is… Patient
Those of you who follow me on Twitter, or have liked my Facebook page, might have seen that I’m still working through 1 Corinthians 13:4-8a, while letting it work through me.
The Corinthian Love Challenge
I started today’s post last week. Or at least what I thought was today’s post. As always, the subject evolved. It kept getting to me deeper, and more of me went into what I was writing. And today, it came down to the fact that I’m just not ready to finish it. The Lord needs to do more work in me before I can effectively say what needs to be said.
But I will say this:
Don’t let others establish your value or your values.
Our Heavenly Father really does know best. Continue reading “The Corinthian Love Challenge”
Poetry FUN on a cold, winter morning
This week’s post brought to you by my two favorite boys… with a little help from my favorite little girl…
Diamante Poems
The rocks WILL cry out… and sometimes they dance and whisper…
Every nerve, every muscle sighed and cried fatigue and pain. My arms, my legs, my head seemed too much for the strength in my joints, my neck. I tottered helplessly on the edge of the hopelessness out of which I had so recently been lifted.
I can’t do this again, Lord. I won’t survive.
Why didn’t I feel better?
Following my second bout of depression beyond depression, I was stuck. No longer in the dark twisted depths where the only thoughts that brought some peace were thoughts of the end; when to bring an end to what seemed a life of failure and harm felt like the only reasonable solution. But still lost in a netherworld of apathy broken by bursts of anger, occasional sadness, and rare moments of feeling like myself.
The sunlight, the sand, the waves. The three children who ran and dug, splashed and laughed, who proudly showed me their found-rocks and built-sand-creations. The husband who picked up the camera I abandoned. So far away. All so far away. Even the sand beneath my feet, the cool water washing over; touching me, but not reaching me. Me, what was left of me, far away inside my head. Had I ever been complete? Touchable? Had I ever known faith?
God… God must be somewhere beyond the hard arc of blue over, behind, and beyond me. The impenetrable ceiling where my universe ended. Even this shrunken universe was more than I could stand. It was too big, too full, too empty. Hopeless, pointless. Grace was reserved for those who could appreciate it. And I stood beyond. Rejecting and rejected.
Wave after wave made their way to where I stood, each dragging sand from beneath my feet in the endless process of redecorating the shore. Me, they left standing. Staring down. Away from as much too-muchness as possible. I saw without seeing. The sunlight and clear water playing over pebbles smooth and gray.
Until something caught my eye.
One red stone. Wiggling as the waves tried to move it elsewhere. It… danced…
You’re the only one who is ever going to see this, just like this.
God broke through…
In a moment of true lucidity I realized, I believed, that before I was born, back when He was laying the foundations of the earth, my Father knew that this small red stone would be here. Here at this moment for my eyes only, to speak Truth into my emptiness. A moment of respite from the darkness, to give me hope. To remind me that He is there, He is here, and He loves me, even when I can’t feel it. To remind me that nothing is without purpose, that I may need to endure a little longer with a broken mind and heart but He will always use the times that feel like the worst for His glory… and my good if I let Him… and love Him.
It was a moment. That helped me survive to the next moment. Moments when I can’t deny the reality of grace. That once again expand into days, into life.
Found 