Sunday

to remember and look forward

reflecting on the past year and the new year...

here on the blog i am going to start doing two set posts...

1}to invite you to tea {tuesdays will be tea day, i will tell you stuff and {hopefully!} you will feel like you're on my couch with a cup of tea having a chat with me}

2}to find ordinary beauty {fridays. sounds just like what it is.  beauty in the ordinary from my week.}

and then the rest of the days i will either write or be silent or link with something else like yarn along or imperfect prose or 1000 gifts...

we will see if this works.  i have grand ideas but don't always follow through.

other things 2013 holds...

  • my daddy getting married!!!
  • ian graduating homeschool and probably heading off to college
  • pearl jean will turn 1 {right on the first day of 2013}
  • an actual family vacation {if all goes right}... heading up the coast through oregon {T, you hear this?} and through washington to visit our friends on a Christmas tree farm.
  • gentleness. peace. these two things on the top of my list.
  • numerous opportunities TO LOVE...
and some of my most special moments of 2012...





























thank you friends for sharing them with me!!
love and peace to you in the new year!

Friday

to have the faith of a child


Sweet baby eyes gazing up at me.

I see trust in them. Pure trust.

She doesn't know hurt, disappointment or pain. She knows love. She knows trust.

She knows that in the midst of loud noises, she will find peace in a smile on mama's face.

She knows that when she is alone she needs to merely make a sound and she will be swooped up into arms that will comfort, hold and love.

When her belly feels empty, she knows the one with love in her eyes will take her and nurse her and the feeling will subside.

She knows her needs will be met. She knows she is not alone.

We must have the faith of a child. Complete trust.

Knowing that in the midst of turmoil, He holds us in His hands.

Knowing that when we feel alone, He is with us, gently guiding us, ready to give comfort if we just TRUST that he is there.

When we feel empty, He restores, He fills.

We need to remember our needs will be met, He will meet them always.

Look past the hurt, the uncertainty, gaze up at Him with pure trust.

Breathe deeply, snuggle into His arms...REST.

Saturday

merry christmas

we are heading out of town to my daddy's for christmas,
so i will leave you with this...


Monday

to be quiet here...

you may have noticed i deleted the majority of my most recent posts. i just don't feel right about them right now. taking some time, pledging some silence. pray lots. and love lots.


Charlotte Bacon 2/22/06, 6

Daniel Barden 9/25/05, 7

Rachel Davino 7/17/83, 29

Olivia Engel 7/18/06, 6

Josephine Gay 12/11/05, 7

Ana M Marquez-Greene 4/4/06, 6

Dylan Hockley 3/08/06, 6

Dawn Hocksprung 6/28/65, 47

Madeline F. Hsu 7/10/06, 6

Catherine V. Hubbard 6/08/06, 6
Chase Kowalski 10/31/05, 7
Jesse Lewis 6/30/06, 6
James Mattioli 3/22/06, 6

Grace McDonnell 11/04/05, 7
Anne Marie Murphy 7/25/60, 52
Emilie Parker 5/12/06, 6
Jack Pinto 5/6/06, 6
Noah Pozner 11/20/06, 6
Caroline Previdi 9/7/06, 6
Jessica Rekos 5/10/06, 6
Avielle Richman 10/17/06, 6
Lauren Russeau 6/82, 30
Mary Sherlach 2/11/56, 56
Victoria Soto 11/4/85, 27
Benjamin Wheeler 9/12/06, 6
Allison N Wyatt 7/03/06, 6

Friday

to listen to punk rock and get prayer

We sat in back of truck filled with
angst-ridden punk rock teenagers,
she with her multi-colored mohawk and
I, bleach blond hair and torn clothes,
arms wrapped tight around knees and
locked deep inside my weary self.
She was beautiful and I,
I was wretched.
Gentleness poured forth from her mouth
while I,
I spouted self hatred.
Loneliness consumed the young girl that
I was,
depression filled teenager running from all
to I knew not what but
desperate to get there.
And she,
she came close with a holy calm and
pulled me in,
this girl younger yet so. much. wiser
than I,
asked the non-christian, God ignorer that I was
with a whisper that rang like sweet song,
"can I pray for you Amy?"


 With profanity spewing all around us,
punk rock music blaring in our ears,
she invited the Holy Spirit to visit us,
and visit us He did.
I don't remember the specifics of her prayer,
but I do remember the awe I felt in that
broken yet holy moment and
I will admit I forgot all about her prayer in
the turmoil of the next few days but
finally,
I remembered.
I remembered after my heart had been torn open,
when I had nothing left of myself and reached out to
He who had been calling for oh. so. long.
I remembered when His peace entered me,
yes me,
who had been gasping for breath and barely able
to stand.
I remembered when I had long been reading my own Bible and
found in a box of my old things a small Bible with
an inscription from her and a note,
a note telling me how she loved me and
her and her mama had been praying fervently for me,
for.
me.



I remembered when  I already knew how
that story ended and
I couldn't breathe just for a moment
when I remembered.
Because I knew.
That prayer.
It brought me to Him.
After she prayed began a whirlwind of teenage
trauma;
running away,
hospitalizations,
oceans of tears...
all leading to a breakdown of self and
Christ lifting me up.

It began with a prayer.
A prayer of simple faith,
prayer in the back of a truck with
punk rock music and obscenities,
safety pins and leather jackets,
mohawks,
piercings,
and...
love.
Wherever you are,
don't forget to pray for someone.



to dance to the music of the Composer

 

making music,
dancing along through the days,
each moment,
each step,
not just living, not just surviving,
but
embracing,
thriving.

He is the composer and
each of our lives is
the song,
each simple moment
a
dance...











a.
dance.

{and this video which says it so eloquently.
it's so short, take the two minutes to watch...}



now go dance.

Wednesday

to show them how

darkness still dominant out the windows,
we sat by sparkling lights of newly decorated
christmas tree,
five year old twins and i while
the rest of family continued in their early morning
slumber.
a quiet holiness accompanied us as
i retold them about Jesus,
spoke to them of His sacrifice and love and
they listened,
and i whispered,
"it doesn't matter what is happening in your life
or the world around you,
when people know and love Jesus they
can live in joy, in peace." and Hannah
smiled wide eyed grin,
eyes dancing with the beauty of it all,
but Ruth, her twin,
bore her eyes deep into mine and remarked,
"well, i don't know if i love Jesus."

that mama in me panicked momentarily with thoughts of
oh no, will she never know God?  is this it?
how did this happen?

she began to jump around in the quiet,
giggling and naming things she loved,
"i love crunch bars and
dolls and dolly.  i love
my rope swing and meatloaf!"

my look of anxiety turned quickly into
peace filled smile,
as i realized she did "love" all of those things,
for she was five and
that pint sized beauty did not yet understand
love,
and everything she claimed to love
was superficial and i should truly worry if
she had a superficial love for Christ as
she did for candy and toys.

for now she knew He was good.
she knew there was something different about Him
that did not fit into a category with
rope swings,
and she knew that all she "loved" was given to her
by Him.
and how would she learn what love truly was?
how would she learn to love Him?
by the love we have for each other.
by loving Him ourselves.
by offering thanks and praise for all things to
the Giver.
by demonstrating compassion and grace and
all the attributes He has.
we would love Him.
we would love her.
and she will love.

it's okay that she doesn't know if she loves Jesus.
i'm pretty sure He gets it.

 

Tuesday

to write elsewhere

the winter edition of rhythm of the home is up today and
you can read my little pouring out of words right here.

hope your days are beautiful...

Sunday

to reflect on winter's calm

we spend the day after thanksgiving
decorating our winter mantle,
exchanging the oranges, yellows and reds
for whites, light blues and the shimmery quiet
that belongs to the season of calm.


a winter mantle is cloaked in simplicity,
a mixture of rest and christmas,
a time of reflection and expectation,
and as i store away autumn's awesomeness and
retrieve winter's offerings long been laid to rest i
smile,
with pandora's indie holiday station keeping me company,
i adorn this home for the season to come,



allowing children to partake as only children will and
ignoring the fact that as i hang a bunting begging
for snow,
imagining cuddling by the fire with my kiddos,
cocoas and piles of books while
snow softly blankets the ground outside,
it is currently 75 degrees outside and snow is
unheard of in our coastal town.



and yet i dream and wait,
as only a chronic dreamer can,
i prepare and anticipate and
welcome christmas,
welcome the last weeks of autumn,
welcome the coming of a winter marked by sunshine,
a winter wishing for snow.