stille nacht

We had our first snow a few weeks ago. It was a bit of a surprise for us, though we both stood in awe and stared out the window as large flakes came falling down. It's still novel. It's still so fresh for us. And we both find it exciting, that first snow of the winter. There is an all encompassing stillness that happens when the dirty, rubbage laden streets get purified for a breath of time, and traffic slows, and people stop to watch their step. And green growing things cease. And All is white.

 Even though it is certainly a known fact that Jesus was not born in December, I find it a perfect season to celebrate and remember something so precious, so amazing, so humbling, and so earth shaking.

It is as if Holiness has stepped on the earth, and our response is the gravitational pull to just be... still.

 In late January of 2008, my health decided to take a left when I wanted it to go right. Months of doctors and tests followed. And then remission. And then flare up. And then strength. And then weakness. The past few months have been weak ones. I grow easily tired of weakness and I struggle so much to be a super hero woman writer artist friend wife mentor (and so forth). I can't do it right now. I can't job hunt. I can't create coherent sentences well. I can't pursue friends. I can't cook for all. I can't keep the house as clean as I want it. I can't heal her wounds. I can't make it all better for a friend.

 After a long talk with my amazing husband, we concluded what I can do. I can be still. I can heal. I can reach out where Jesus calls me to reach out. I can slow down, tread carefully down the snowy path. Watch my steps with care.

 I've noticed a remarked change that has begun as I slow down. I've stopped struggling. I've stopped trying to be super me. And through this process of letting go of all that I can't do right now, I can now see how Christ is moving in my life and the lives of those around me. I can see that God is working in my loved ones' lives. And I can see that I don't have to do it all or hold it all together in my hand.

 The work of mending broken hearts, the work of providing, the work of words and profundity, the work of truth and of grace, the work of healing began all those years ago in a stall among farm animals and the simplest of people.

All is calm. 

 There is profound peace in trusting Christ with burdens. There is hope knowing that all the mistakes and wrong doings I have racked up through the years don't keep me from God because of what Christ has done.

Glories stream from heaven afar.

 There is rest knowing this is not all there is. The noisy cacophony will one day be silenced and the grime of this world will no longer be when Glory of Glories, the Holy of Holies streams down once more.

With the dawn of redeeming grace.

There is a sigh of relief that we don't have to redeem ourselves.  We don't have to worry that God won't forgive us because of the work of Jesus who carried that burden for us.  And it started all those years ago with a humbled virgin and a kind, strong young carpenter both called by God to parent a baby not their own,  A baby whose life brought us redemption and showed us grace.

All is bright.

What joy there is! Even in the pain.  Even in the days when exhaustion is so great that I don't have energy to brush my hair.  What Joy there is when I can't be and do all that I want to be and do.  This joy, this brightness comes from a void of despair, it comes from the wide open gates of Hope, from the radiant beams of His Holy face.

The days have been hard but they are getting better.  Something that improves them and kind of makes the pain lose some of its potency is letting go and being still.  My, how He makes this burden lighter.

black nails and valentine's tales

By noon yesterday, I was fed up with the day which is highly unusual for me. I woke up 2 hours later than intended because my alarm had been knocked down and the battery knocked out. My friend wrote on facebook that (oh, my friend who is 9 months pregnant) during her 30+ minute train ride to work, she was never offered a seat. 9 months pregnant. On Valentine's day even. Driving home from the grocery store and stopped at a light, I had trouble shifting gears and a woman decided I was way too slow and that it was imperative that she had to lay into her horn to make sure I went faster. I tossed up a peace sign hoping she would "chill". The moment she passed me later on when I turned, she decided to lay into her horn again. The reason I couldn't shift quickly? I've had very painful tennis elbow for three months.

I know it's winter here and I know there are a lot of people who look at the day as a "Hallmark Holiday". I know there are scorned lovers and those who are loveless. There are plenty who are most likely tired of being single and find the day a horrible reminder of their singleness and their loneliness. I know. I have been there.

I also heard people complain about the day; "my daughter would always come home without receiving a Valentines" and "I think Valentine's should be about him pursuing me".

Every year I'm reminded about what this day is: it is to remember a martyr, a priest sainted for his sacrifice to Christ, his noted sacrifices for marrying Christians when Claudius the Goth had ordered against it. It was a bloody time in Roman history for Christians with much persecution. Valentine stood up for Christ, stood up against oppression and attempted annihilation of a people. He is known as the saint of Love and Lovers, of happy marriages, even bee keepers (and other people I didn't quite understand... like the plague). He is known for his blatant defiance of a brutal and tyrannical ruler.

He sounds like a man to celebrate, to emulate. Why can't we let go of what we want, what we can get out of the day and turn it instead into at least one day of loving others, of showing kindness, of noting love where love is, not where it isn't, remembering those who have generously loved, selflessly loved, and showing love to them. Loving without expectation of return, loving when it may even mean being hurt or a sacrifice of pride.

I've been generously loved. I've been shown undeserved love. I've been lavished in love. And I've been selfish with it all. I too have sat back with pity wanting, desiring love to be shown to me. A coined and overused quote seems to capture so much, "Be the change you want to see in the world." Another quote from another saint, "grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love." prayer of St. Francis

A final thought; for me, I have known great love because of the Love of God. From that deep love, a love with a force greater than Iguazu Falls, I am truly overwhelmed. Oh, to give like Him, to love like Him. And, what I've seen of His love, it is only a glimpse of Love, only a glimpse of Heaven.

"Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you." Psalm 63:3

even the rocks cry out!

REJOICE! salvation is near. Rejoice! for you have been given the oil of gladness. Rejoice! for the light will overcome the darkness. JOY! for the sackcloth has been torn. Joy! for the Heavens cry out with song. SING! for good news has been proclaimed to the poor. Sing! for freedom has come to the captives. SHOUT! redemption draws near! Shout! you have been given a garment of praise. Sing! for what was devastated will be rebuilt. SING! you have been clothed in righteousness. Joy! for your head has been lifted of shame. JOY! for you have been made clean. Rejoice! There is no need for despair. Rejoice! you have been crowned with beauty. REJOICE! for eternity is written on your heart and HE has come that you might know him!

"these things i have spoken to you that in me you might find peace. in this world you will have trouble. BUT be of good cheer! for I have overcome the world." ~

isaiah 64
ecclesiastes 3
john 16

sweet home.

We are so grateful for our time here and for being here in the big city. We know we are supposed to be here. And we have great friends. A sweet church. A cozy home. And we are really enjoying ourselves. In the same breath, it's a particularly nostalgic and illuminating time of year remembering all we left behind at home in the far away land of Texas. Five months is not that long of a time to be away but as families begin to come together, I am longing for certain familiar things or even simple luxuries we no longer have living in this faraway city.



I miss real Tex Mex. The kind I ate almost every single day because it was part of the culture of Austin.

I miss having a washer and dryer in our place. It is a wonderful wonderful thing, let me tell you. We do have a laundromat not too far away, but to have it right under your finger tips? Please, enjoy yours for me.

Speaking of luxuries, I miss the wonderful and spectacular invention called... the dishwasher! Seriously.

I miss space. Wide open space that declares freedom. And the sky. I miss the sky.

I miss the warmth and friendliness that is part of the Texas culture, though not always genuine, still it is reflective of kindness, the kindness that comes as fruit of a grateful and loving heart.

I miss my nieces coming to the office with the excitement and joy and wonder only they could bring in. They were always in awe of the space and thought that my office was the only place in the world that offered Starfall.

I miss my nieces. I miss snuggling them into me, my nose resting on their heads, praying for God's safety and protection over them, promising to do all I could to keep them safe.

I miss my family, sister and brother. my parents. I have the best parents, really.

I miss their dogs!

I miss our dear dear friends, whose lives and love poured into both of us and has shaped us by His love and grace.

I miss our sweet church.


We have been given much here. We have a fellowship of great friends and people who love the Lord. We get to do all of our own dishes. And, Texas, you are etched in the wrinkles of my smile and the soles of my boots (hiking boots, actually).

to know joy

Man is fond of counting his troubles, but he does not count his joys. If he counted them up as he ought to, he would see that every lot has enough happiness provided for it. ~Fyodor Dostoevsky

When I was 18, I betrayed a friend. I started dating her boyfriend (it was terrible of me and don't ever do it, btw). I then dumped him a couple of weeks later to find that he had gone straight back to her. And it went back and forth like this for a while. I was devastated and broken, depressed, and upset with myself for the rest of the year. One day, I was sitting on a trampoline enjoying time with my favorite 9 year old when she started singing this song, "I choose to be happy." And her words, those simple words, changed me. It started an upward climb as for the first time in my short years I realized Happiness is a choice. Just a choice. Not something that happens to you but something decided.

I would like to say that the years that followed were all filled with the choice to be happy, but I would be lying. I chose to wallow in sorrow and self pity a couple of times. A couple of years. I had emotional baggage as we ALL do. I experienced life, as we all do, with all of its ups and downs. Sometimes the downs were traumatic. Sometimes in the trauma I chose to avoid dealing with it.

One time though, after being broken up with, I chose joy. I chose to look at my "terrible" circumstance and praise God for all the good things he has done in my life. I praised Him. I stopped looking at my sorrow and loss, and looked to my God. Someone told me for the first time in my life, "You are glowing". Someone who I looked up to and didn't know my circumstance. I faced my problem, wept, and chose joy.

I've quoted this before; as Abraham Lincoln said, "Most folks are as happy as they make their minds up to be." It's really true. I would also add that joy is something deeper than just happiness. Happiness only skims the surface of what joy is. Joy is looking in the face of tragedy and saying, I rejoice. And again I say, rejoice. I know what comes my way, whatever my lot, I have reason to be full of JOY. I will say, when I lost my friend last year, it was tragic. I was devastated. I've had other losses that brought sorrow, too. There is nothing wrong with experiencing sorrow, entering into sadness. But when it turns, and you'll probably know exactly when that is as I did, when it turns into bitterness and self-pity, when you can no longer see hope, then it is no longer good.

In those moments of sorrow and loss, I have had to look on to hope, on to the joy in my life, on to remembering all there is to be thankful for, all there is to rejoice in. For in those moments, hoping and rejoicing have brought me peace. They have reminded me that though sorrow and loss happen, I have a choice. I can wallow in them and be discontent and un-comforted, or I can look at them and say, there have been so many blessings, there is much to enrich my life with, and there is so much to hope in.

As a Christian, I have a great hope, a great joy in knowing Christ and trusting him and his promises. One such promise of the Lord's is from the Old Testament, "I will never leave you or forsake you." It is a promise I hold true. Another is of his love for his children. Shakespeare captured love beautifully when he said , "Love is not love which alters when it alterations find or bends with the remover to remove. Oh, no. It is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken." (Sonnet 116)

He loves his children that much.

"Whatever my lot thou has taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul." ~Horatio Spafford (whose story and life were wrought with sorrow and inspired the hymn quoted)

"O the deep, deep love of Jesus, love of every love the best!
’Tis an ocean full of blessing, ’tis a haven giving rest!
O the deep, deep love of Jesus, ’tis a heaven of heavens to me;
And it lifts me up to glory, for it lifts me up to Thee!"

~Samuel Trevor Francis

How wide and long and high and deep is the love of Jesus Christ.

You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed the sack cloth and clothed me with JOY.

notes from the big city:

-bright, sunny walks in the city after eight days of the flu are eye opening and life giving

-children and babies on the bus or public transportation make me smile.

-narcissists on public transportation make me want to scream, "the world's axis does not rotate just around you!"

-breathing is under-rated.

-on a walk the other day i passed by a Guatemalan/Salvadoran/Mexican restaurant, Japanese, Korean, Vietnamese, Pakistani, Burmese, Afghan, Israeli, Turkish, Indian, Italian, Brazilian, Russian, Irish, American eateries (and many more nationalities). hello world in my city.

- I passed by a Rabbi today and it no longer felt like a strange thing. Rather, a daily occurrence.

- i plan on taking up letter writing. it is a lost art.

-can't wait to purchase rain boots. a thousand years ago, i wore them when no one else did. it was a sight that received many giggles and i loved causing the giggles. now, everyone's wearing them here. bizarre!

-i love our new friends and my new friends. there are some kind, wonderful women in this city that single guys are completely missing out on. i can't wait to have a girl's night. (i do have to say, it was fun to be at the grocery store and run into someone we knew.)

-i love that i got to sit next to a young girl from Trinidad, in this country for 3 years. we had a little chat while watching football. again, we get to meet the world here.

-city life is more communal than what it was at home. i love, love, love that. i'm looking forward to having people in our home.

- i watched a sweet, tiny Korean toddler look with amazement and admiration at her mother. it was profound even though it occurs all over the world daily.

- farmer's markets in every area of town are beautiful. i salivate a little every time i see a wooden crate overflowing with fresh picked apples.

-i've lost 10 pounds since we moved here. i know exactly how, too. city walking.

"Mine eyes do smell an onion."

Sitting in a cafe sipping iced tea while the rain falls outside and the bosa nova plays inside, i stare at the iron railing wondering what city we have landed in, what season we are truly in with 62 degree temperatures, and why I'm wearing a sweater... in August. You can at least tell that it's a week day; the hustle and bustle abounds in droves as rush hour begins. but here, in here, all seems still. i keep my heritage ingrained in me in the middle of this metropolis while sipping an iced tea though I should be sipping something warm... I can't do it right now. I'm still on the Southern schedule where it doesn't get cool until.. November. Thus the confusion.

iced tea in gray gray weather. At least I'm not alone; an elderly couple just walked by dressed for summer. No one told them we were having a "monsoon" all week long. Am I now part of the collective we? Someday. Ha. The woman who chose the seat next to me bought an iced tea. I guess I'm not that strange after all.

I miss my Italian espresso/ gelato shop just around the corner from the office. Marco knew what I ordered though he never knew if I was in a playful "caramel macchiato" mood or a plain-jane-non-fat-latte mood. He and my husband would speak Italian to each other. I actually miss my bank where Lida and Angela knew me so well, when my sister walked in to sign up for account, they actually said, "You must be M's sister." Just by seeing her face. I miss my nieces, one who recently said that instead of going to her new school, she would come stay with me. When she was told how far we live now, she was not moved. She'll just come to us.

I've noticed how many strangers there are here. A couple sat down next to me speaking Norwegian. Some young Spanish kids came in for a respite from the "monsoon". Many are unknown. They too came here not knowing others. A city full of strangers. (and the girl next to me is so loud. There's no way she is a native metropolitan.)

In time. (concentration is lost by the girl's incredibly loud voice.) We'll make home. Carve out a place. Find a new place where we are known (other than the laundromat where the woman scowls at me while she tries to flirt with my husband. I'll knock her out and then maybe, just maybe,(if she'll finally show me respect) we'll be friends.) {that's a joke. i'm not violent at all. and, yes, she did finally stop glaring at me and smiled. happy day.}

Note to self: buy rain boots, umbrella, and rain parka. And don't talk loudly in cafes. Especially about your personal life.

a little advice to my nieces (when they are old enough to understand this)

on boys to men...

1. don't throw your heart away, especially too early. you're still changing and growing and boys change too. some of them grow up, some of them don't. (at 16 he may be cute, but at 30 and still living at home while still working at McDonald's... not so much)

2. stay far far away from the one's that don't.

3. waiting for someone is completely worth it. trust me; i know.

4. don't settle just to get married. it's not worth it at all. i've seen too many women attach themselves because they wanted to get married, and not for the right reasons. i've watched too many marriages fall apart for this reason.

5. have high standards but not too high (like, "he must be 6 foot 5 inches." or, "he must have a complete collection of Star Wars Pez Candy Dispensers.") there are some standards that are good to let go of; some, hold fast to them.


on studies and career...

1. study. study. study. there is so much to learn out there and it is a blessing and a privilege to have the opportunity to do it.

2. study what you love. if they tell you in college, "don't study art because you won't be able to make money from it." DO it anyway. study what you love. and finish it.

3. prioritize study and learning; it will be worth it!

4. go to school whether college or trade. there will be courses you don't want to take, but do them and get it over with. who knows. you may find that even though you hated Algebra before, now it's something you adore. (yes, even Algebra can be adored.)

5. choose a career you truly enjoy. find out what makes you tick, what drives you. if you love working with kids, do it! if you love numbers, do it. if you love, making art, do it. you may have to do other jobs for a bit, but do it with joy and keep on doing the work you were made to do. (I can't tell you how many writers worked other day jobs while writing...)

on life

1. as your Nonna used to say, if you're bored, it's your own fault.

2. Abraham Lincoln said it well. "Most folks are as happy as they make up their minds to be."

3. Kindness is a balm to many an ailment or injury. Be kind, even to those who don't deserve it or those who treat you with contempt. They need it most.

4. Forgive, forgive, forgive and forgive some more. Bitterness is a cancer that will poison and eat at you for the rest of your life.

5. Be kind and forgiving AND don't let yourself become someone's doormat. Stand up when it is important to stand up.

6. Beauty IS from within. Kindness, selflessness, love and mercy in your heart will do wonders for your outward appearance.

Do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God. Trust Him with all of your heart, in all your ways acknowledge him and He will carry you through.

swim.

i sat at the edge of the water, frozen (literally and figuratively). we've had a bit of a "cool" snap here even though we've already experienced a month plus of summer like temperatures. and the water, well, it's a bit chilly.

i sat there dumbfounded why i couldn't jump in; i love the water and i love to swim. and i'm used to 68 degree water. i'm fast and i have my strokes down, but everything in me stuck there... pool side. after about 15 minutes of the internal battle (I want to go in, I can't go in, Why can't I just go in?), it hit me what the issue was. i was lonely. my friend who recently passed and her best friend were my pool companions just four years ago. carla was a motivator to get in the water; she always went in first. and she swam hard. the accountability of having them call me up and invite me to swim with them, healed a lot in me; brokenness, body image issues, and a need for friends in my life. there is something about exercising together. it's like a battle, fighting side by side, taking a Clayborne to the lies and the self deprecating soliloquies on beauty and worth.

and there i sat. remembering with nostalgia and mourning the loss of something sweet, something powerful, something right. missing those days. missing carla and her amazing and fighting spirit.

but with that remembrance, i remembered the battle. i remembered the inner battle cry; i am no coward. i am a warrior. And then, I jumped in the chilly water.

you are no coward. YOU are a warrior.

coming to the quiet

When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free. Wendell Berry

it's the time of year, lenten season, where some surrender and give up something particular. it's been quiet around the house even though life is full and much is buzzing around me. but it's quiet because of giving up unnecessary things. and noisy things. i've also tried to make time for being quiet, creating space for the quiet.

we have a work out center near us that is very convenient. but there are televisions everywhere and it looks out on a man made structure and there are machine noises and tv noises and ipod noises and the sound the treadmill makes as my shoes scuff across it. it feels synthetic. it is synthetic.

and then 20 minutes from our place, there is a smallish lake. yes, i am aware that it is a man made lake, but it has created something natural and organic. it is where geese and ducks swim, where deer come to the bank for a drink or to stand by and watch, where fathers bring their children to fish and mothers take them to kayak, where families come to walk together and be together.

i love going there to exercise, to sit, to watch the families of all sizes and nationalities, to feel the breeze off the lake caress my face. i go there to sit and pray and listen to God. to walk and push through worries and fears, to let them go and walk forward trusting Him.

and though nature buzzes above my head and groups of people pass me by, it is quiet and still.

touching on grief...

"It is hard to have patience with people who say 'There is no death' or 'Death doesn't matter.' There is death. And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreversible. You might as well say that birth doesn't matter." C.S. Lewis

Someone recently said something that has stuck with me as I process and mourn the loss of my friend. Death is not natural. Death was not a part of life before the fall; it came after it. Death was not meant for this life. We were not meant for death.

Grief is like a wrestling match. There are times when I feel like I have conquered it, I raise my hands in triumph and grief surprises me and pins me down again. All cultures have many different ways to process grief. We all have different ways of going through it. It's just that it is important to go through the process of grief... and not avoid it. I don't want to scan pictures for her memorial because it means it really happened. But I will.

i miss my friend.

juxtaposition of life and death

These last few days have been extraordinarily strange as life and death converged and sorrow and celebration dined at the same table. "There is a time for everything under the sun" but this time, the sun rose and set while both weeping and rejoicing mingled together.

My dear dear friend Carla died Sunday. We met 12 years ago as she welcomed me to a new church and opened her life and heart to friendship as well. She led a small group of people who loved each other well and fellowshiped together sharing meals, tears, laughter, prayers and fun. We worshiped together in truest form acknowledging the amazing sovereignty of God and sweet Grace God gave us through Christ. A year after meeting, Carla, Libby, Rema and I all moved in together in a sweet house of fellowship, healing, laughter, and ordinary life all mixed in one.

Carla prayed with power. Carla recognized the authority of Christ and prayed with that authority. I tell you, mountains were moved. More than once, she prayed with me for God's healing in my life from past hurts and past lies I was believing about myself which were not in line with God's view of me. Carla recognized a pain I had carried for years and with her help, we gave it back to Christ's able hands.

Carla went through more on this earth than what any person should. It could crush anyone of us, but God's healing and his love for Carla gave her life. Three years ago, she was diagnosed with cancer. The first round, she was healed. The second round, healing once again. This third round was brutal on her earthly body. She stopped treatment a month ago giving up on man's solutions but never on God's. In His mercy, she was released to go Home, and there is no better place to be.

I miss her. Many of us miss her. She was well loved. But now she has been greeted in Heaven with love and joy and rejoicing. It's funny. I cry every time I think of that. I'm so happy for her! And I grieve this planet's incredible loss. There is Joy that she is alive with Christ. There is sadness that so many will miss out on Carla's testimony of Faith and the love God has shown her.

Sunday she passed. Monday was my birthday. Tuesday we welcomed a new niece.

Celebrating Life with loss lingering in the air is hard and baffling and profound. Immediately it reminded me of the words of a hymn. The most profound sorrow and rejoicing I know of is Christ's death. In His death, there was so much pain and loss, but with it there IS so much gain.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown.

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross by Isaac Watts (1674-1748)



where o death is your sting?  where o death is your victory?

love must be sincere.

hate what is evil.

cling to what is good.

outdo one another in showing honor.

rejoice in hope.

show hospitality.

be patient in affliction.

be faithful in prayer.

bless those who persecute you.

rejoice with those who rejoice.

mourn with those who mourn.

live in harmony.

do not be proud.

do not be conceited.

Do not take revenge.

leave room for God’s wrath.

do not be overcome by evil.

overcome evil with good.





i didn't write any of those words. they belong to another. and no, it's not 1 corinthians; it's romans 12, shuffled around a bit. and it's true. to love and really love, to say that you are someone who loves means putting aside your own desires for those of another. it means letting go of anger and showing kindness. it means rejoicing with someone who is happy when you're not so happy. it means laying aside your joy to mourn with someone who is mourning. it means holding fast to goodness. it means no hypocrisy. it means love is not a feeling. it is action.

i cringe every time i hear someone equate love with a feeling. you're selling yourself short. you're cheapening love. and if there is no action behind the word love, it's not love at all.

this is love in action. this is true, sincere love.

ebenezers and milestones

"Here I raise my ebenezer, Here by Thy great help I've come."
Come Thou Fount by Robert Robinson

The term "ebenezer" is not a common one and usually congers up images of Charles Dicken's character Ebenezer Scrooge and a grumpy, old codger of a man. The truth of the term is beautiful. Ebenezer comes from the Hebrew "Even Haezer" meaning "Stone of Help". In the book of Samuel, Samuel places a stone down in an area where a battle had been won calling it, Ebenezer, and remembers God's help to the Israelites in defeating the Philistines and the reclaiming the Ark of the Covenant. Samuel states, "Thus far the Lord has helped us."

What a remarkable and memorable year 2010 was. I do raise an ebenezer. At a later age than most young women, I was married to a man I am most grateful for, a man I fall in love with more and more. I listened to my husband's prodding and the internal artist God has created me to be and submitted a poem to a contest and won 4th place. I fell ill for a while only to find new healing. With N by my side, we walked 10 miles, something I hadn't been able to do since first becoming sick 3 years ago.

I now look back at the milestones to see how far I've come, how far "we" have come, and I know with certainty, it could not have happened as it has without God's help. I cannot take credit. I start this year, knowing that the past successes,recoveries and joys have come with help. Not just a little help. By HIS good Grace.

oh, to Grace how great a debtor, daily i'm constrained to be...

prepare Him room

Draped under a purple burlap sky,
We wait, We fast;
We Pray, pregnant with Hope,
Anticipating a longed for Salvation,
For the word made flesh;

And, now, we behold His tiny form,
Bundled incarnate purity,
Swaddled pink humanity;
And his cry rings out
Echoing prophetic the voices of Eternity
And the weight of glory,
Falling on an audience of sheep and goats;

Joy to the World!
The Heavenlies welcome on earth
Whom they bowed to,
Whom they knew as King;
Magnificence unknown to human eye,
Left behind
For the chisel and plane,
For the olive wood,
For the ox and trough,
For smelly, moist, rotting hay.

Behold the lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world!
Debts erased by his inch long fingers
And a life forfeit;
Again I say, Rejoice, Oh world!
With solemn hearts lifted
In awe of a babe.

copyright Micah McDonald 2010

it happened one sunday.

well, i challenged myself to submit to a contest even though i didn't have much time to refine (only a few hours to edit four poems); and the first contest i submitted to, a novice poetry contest in canada, i received an honorable mention. i have a lot of work to go, and i need to learn the patience and skill of going back and editing and refining the poem. i still see some things i want to change, but here is the poem that is bringin' home the bacon:

An Exploration of Caritas

She tries the known and unknown tongue,
clashing and clanging;
it sounds like dissonance;
she, standing on the corner soapbox
screaming love,
echoing imperfection.

Knowledge past and future
beats at his soul;
released left and right
the words flow like a torrent,
drowning love,
like an authentic counterfeit.

She cut her hair,
he sold his watch;
they gave it all away
for empty pockets
and bottomless cups;

So she chose the burning building,
and he ran in to save the cat on the third floor;
they became food for worms—
"meaningless, meaningless," blazed
the scorching disco ball.

Fresh breezes renew what once was,
evanescence removes the blotted cloth
and love's voice is heard again;
ashes swirl
and the clay molded;
he is made new,
she is made new.

He offers her his watch, she combs his hair;
a honeysuckle vine guards and sweetens their bed
under the great ancient oak—

love never promised rosebushes daily blooming,
but promised long suffering;
charity did not offer velvet cushions
but offered the cool spring of kindness;
unconditional love did not vow golden crowns
but vowed humility and grace.

Thistles and thorn bushes he bore
to save the snowdrops planted
in the scorching heat;
she gave the keys and her pearls to his able hand;
they ran a marathon through a sea of broken bottles
with the horizon setting in their eyes;
they held a ticker tape parade
in honor of words that withstood the fire.

Through a glass, darkly;
an impoverished reflection,
skinny and malnourished,
the picture is not whole but
dimly shaded,
corners darkened gray;
our view is poorly framed—
someday soon
perfect love will no longer cast shadows
and we will see face to face.

Copyright ©2010 by Micah McDonald

breathing lessons

it's the time of year for me when everything is so, so busy. my job load increases with an upcoming gala and silent auction on top of my regular work. we're still in the throws of the honeymoon phase of the marriage. but there's health issues that have slowed me down considerably. and then there's the friend who is still hurting and it weighs on my heart. and then there's not having energy for the daily things... like laundry and cooking and writing.


last night i could not fall asleep thinking about too many things. my husband. our future. the gala. my friend. my health. i started praying, passionately. i was worked up and frustrated while i prayed, asking God to intervene in the difficult situations. and then i realized something i have encouraged for others but wasn't practicing myself; sometimes you have to put aside your worries, your health, your petitions to look and see how lovely and mighty and kind and good God is. I turned to Psalm 33 and saw. my God is so much more than these little things.

Shout for joy in the Lord, O you righteous!
Praise befits the upright.
Give thanks to the Lord with the lyre;
make melody to him with the harp of ten strings!

Sing to him a new song;
play skillfully on the strings, with loud shouts.

For the word of the Lord is upright,
and all his work is done in faithfulness.
He loves righteousness and justice;
the earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord.

By the word of the Lord the heavens were made,
and by the breath of his mouth all their host.
He gathers the waters of the sea as a heap;
he puts the deeps in storehouses.

Let all the earth fear the Lord;
let all the inhabitants of the world stand in awe of him!
For he spoke, and it came to be;
he commanded, and it stood firm.

The Lord brings the counsel of the nations to nothing;
he frustrates the plans of the peoples.

The counsel of the Lord stands forever,
the plans of his heart to all generations.
Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord,
the people whom he has chosen as his heritage!

The Lord looks down from heaven;
he sees all the children of man;
from where he sits enthroned he looks out
on all the inhabitants of the earth,

he who fashions the hearts of them all
and observes all their deeds.
The king is not saved by his great army;
a warrior is not delivered by his great strength.

The war horse is a false hope for salvation,
and by its great might it cannot rescue.

Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear him,
on those who hope in his steadfast love,

that he may deliver their soul from death
and keep them alive in famine.

Our soul waits for the Lord;
he is our help and our shield.

For our heart is glad in him,
because we trust in his holy name.

Let your steadfast love, O Lord, be upon us,
even as we hope in you.

sweet poetry...

hope and patience
by George MacDonald

An unborn bird lies crumpled and curled,
A-dreaming of the world.
Round it, for castle-wall,
a shell Is guarding it well.

Hope
is the bird with its dim sensations;
The shell that keeps it alive is
Patience


I am a fan of George MacDonald. His poetic words on faith and life helped me through some difficult times in life. His poetry reached places in me other words and voices could not. I love poetry though I have not always had the appreciation for it as I do now. Poets are selective with their words, seeking out that one beauty that says more than 1000 words together could.

I am taking down most of my poetry so I can refine it, and HOPEFULLY, in time send it in to various reviews. I do want to be published. Someday. I'll keep some up and put other new ones up too. But good art needs some extra brush strokes, and I want to be good.

Here's to hope and patience
and good art.

courage, my dear. courage.

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, "I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along." ... You must do the thing you think you cannot do.

Eleanor Roosevelt.

Seven

David Taylor recently did a blog entry on 7 things that are beautiful and I was inspired. I had to follow suit. 7 beautiful things:

1. Mazzy Star and her Into Dust introduced to me by my friend Amy who is living in Guatemala and helping the people right now while they recover from a hurricane AND a volcanic eruption (Amy is beautiful too). I fall in love with my husband even more every time I hear Mazzy Star.





2. Ikiru, the movie directed by Akira Kurosawa. Kurosawa is quickly becoming a favorite director of mine. This film takes you through a man's last year of life; it is a powerful and intelligent film that desires to inspire its viewers to live and truly live, to Carpe Diem. "... make the most of what you have. It is later than you think." (Horace) Ikiru is beautiful.

Takashi Shimura in Ikiru

3. My friend Stephen McCants gave us a breadmaker for a wedding present. Thank you, Stephen! It has been such an incredible blessing for this gluten free lady. Neal was brave and and tried making the first loaf, initiating the bread machine with gluten free bread. The warm smell of yeast and gluten free goodness filled our home; it's been hard to stop since. It's so good with a little butter and honey! Homemade bread IS beautiful.




4. A few months ago my husband sent me a link to some images to inspire creativity. I was fascinated by the fact I was drawn to the photographs with umbrellas in them. Here's my favorite: (click here to see a larger view of it.)

Waiting for rain by Simona Cristureanu

5. And speaking of rain, last summer we saw a horrible drought last summer with temperatures remaining over 100 for over 80 days. This summer, there is rain (nothing like three years ago, but wonderful none the less).






6. A couple of years ago I actually submitted a poem to a contest that I didn't make the final. When I read the finalists and this woman's work, I fell in love with her wit and craft. Love this poem. I think it's beautiful:

Cartography by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

I want to know your body as I know
these sandstone cliffs behind our house-take treks
for weeks along your spine, traverse your neck
with slow, exploratory eyes and go
for long excursions on your limbs with no
set plan for how I might get home, except
to know that you will lead me there. I'll step
so lightly, leave no evidence. And oh,
the maps I'll make, my love, will not be made
of paper but of tune. No rise of you
will be unknown to me, no inch unsung.
I know topographies change by the day—
that wind and water have their way. So true.
A good mapmaker's work is never done.


7. Okay, I know it's simple but fresh herbs are beautiful! N has an amazing green thumb bringing back to life my wedding fern that had almost completely perished. With fresh oregano and thyme and tarragon and basil and curly and flat leaf parsley at our fingertips, meals are so much more lively!