Monday, September 29, 2014

Worthy!

The surface beneath my cheek is smooth and cool, it is as glass the color of sky and clouds and like everything else, there was an intensity about it. One was given the sense that the very ground itself longed to pull itself closer to the one who sat on the throne above it, yet did not out of respect due it's Maker.

The reflection of the glory of the ONE who sits the throne is on the ground. This reflection is enough and not enough. It is the beauty of a wild landscape; glorious, poignant, personal, but not without some feeling of loss.

Maker, Maker I long for You.
When I try to raise my gaze I dare not go beyond the shadow Your feet cast upon the ground. The spirit within me sings. I do not know the words but they are about daytime and renewal, deliverance and relief.

The weight I was so accustomed to lifting, the fear and pride that clung to my corpse my whole life lifted away. They could not bear Your presence.
There was no time that knew not You and no time that You knew not. I had spent my brief time shrouded in darkness and faced now the face to face meeting of my reconciliation. The day that would never quicken into night.

Your reflection on the ground is golden and white. It shines like a sun though it does not exist so briefly as that celestial being. You said let it be and it was.

All of these things and more came to me. Every shame and perversion, every betrayal and impurity went from me. I am free of them, they are nothing.
The ONE who sought my hand and made it clean, the one who satisfied Your justice and joined us together, is with us now too.

Together, in a room that isn't a room and that can not be contained by walls or roofs. We look. There is so much good here. Joining in with the voice of the Spirit, I sing for joy.

Worthy! Holy! The creator has joined together again with His creation.

Saturday, September 27, 2014

Pieces

At 6.25 months Sage can sit up supporting herself with one arm easily, crawl slowly, say mama, abd respond to her own name.

Too. Fast.
.....

I broke out in spontaneous dance when R.E.S.P.E.C.T came on while I was cleaning. Marley's response?
"Let's pray she doesn't slip."
...

The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit. 1 Corinthians
...

I saved this post to publish later and before I came back to it a day later Sage learned to sit up any without support.
...

"There is nothing wrong with what we have or don’t have. The question is, what are we doing or not doing with what God has blessed us with?" -?

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Ouch little baby

Sage just fell off my bed. Luckily it's a low bed but still it's so sad. She went into the baby reflex to pain and fear by going to sleep. So of course I'm now hovering in her face. Concussion? Brain damage? Irreversible psychological condition that will make her incapable of ever relaxing in a bed? Will she become a drummer now?

Being a parent is hard. But I'm thankful that these are my set of trials.

Psalm 139:13-14 NIRV

You created the deepest parts of my being. You put me together inside my mother's body.  How you made me is amazing and wonderful. I praise you for that. What you have done is wonderful. I know that very well.


*edit: Sage Marie has had a hard day today. She fell off a bed, got clawed, got prodded by a doctor, had two naps disrupted, has a viral rash, has ringworm and the dog won't let her hold him.*

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Poop

This conversation pretty much sums each of us up.

Me: Baby! You smell terrrrible!  Like poop!
Baby: *more pooping noises*
Marley: *breaks into unintelligible placating murmurs to the baby*
Solo: *laughing because poop*

(Bob working because we want to live indoors and eat food.)

Monday, September 22, 2014

Homework

Marley has daily homework. She had to draw five things that started with vowels. Guess what she drew for 'i'.




A: invisible man (that's his hat and beard)

The cure for pain is in the pain.

Being a writer (sometimes) means...

Being in an obsessive love/hate relationship with fictional characters, all of whom are yourself and yet NOT yourself.

Being broke.

Balancing self-love and self-loathing enough to actually DO something.

Becoming a minor expert on Croatia, coffee bean grind variations, Roman-catholic mass, and The Reid Technique to convincingly write a single sentence.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Job 35

"He gives songs in the night; when our condition is dark and melancholy, there is that in God's providence and promise, which is sufficient to support us, and to enable us even to rejoice in tribulation. " - from Matt Henry's commentary of Job 35

Thursday, September 18, 2014

Soul searching says...

I find the local news stations and sites more repugnant and disturbing than spiders.