Lenten collect: BOCP

Almighty God,

You know that we have no power in ourselves to help ourselves:  Keep us both outwardly in our bodies and inwardly in our souls, that we may be defended from all adversities which may happen to the body, and from all evil thoughts which may assault and hurt the soul; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the  Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Amen.

Book of Common Prayer

The Way I See It: Catching Up

Molly at Close to Home has a terrific photo prompt each week.  I took some time this week to fill in the gaps in my "The Way I See It" posts.  Click on the prompt links below the pictures to see Molly's posts.

Birth

As someone who loves autumn and winter, who savors the rich, earthy fragrances of mulching leaves and who happily stares at the bare branches of the silhouette oaks of February, I found this prompt challenging.  Of course, if I had done this back in the season of the nativity it would have been easier.  Fortunately, I got outside and I wandered, and we were in the midst of extraordinarily warm days.  The bulbs were fooled into bursting through.  The birth of the spring garden is a little premature, but I love the hints of bright green in the midst of the grays and browns of winter. 

Portrait

Claire and I fiddled with light and posing and hair in the midst of a kitchen needing cleaning.  I love the line of her eyebrow, the outline of her lips, the bit of light reflecting off her earring, her freeze frame expression.  

I love that she is my daughter.

I love her.

Warmth

I do not like the quality of this picture, but it says WARMTH in many different ways.  My youngest was hit with our annual February Fever and was bundled up in front of the fire doing his school reading.  He was warm.  The heavy blanket my nephew sent us from Japan was warm.  The fire was warm.  The sunlight from the upper windows was warm.

When we are sick I miss my mother, for even at the age of 52 it is her cool hand I want on my fevered skin.  And snuggling with a twelve-almost-thirteen year old, a young man who is almost six feet tall, will only get more rare as the minutes rapidly tick by.  My heart is warm with memories.

A Different Point of View

Yesterday we drove through the Sacramento delta lands on our way to and from a basketball game. It is a whole different world from my oak-covered hilltop.  

With wide open vistas, winding rivers, water-logged fields, birds circling and diving and feeding, it was warmer and wetter and refreshingly, beautifully different. Everything was flat, flat, flat. Traffic was a line of cars waiting for the drawbridge to come down again.

 

The smell of water and fish and tractor exhaust filled the air.  Stark brown fields with rows of stubbly something went on and  on and on.  Trees in perfect rows looked like a scene from Middle Earth.  Blue light softened every row and bend and branch into wonder.

 I have been thinking a lot about seeing things from a different point of view.  The view of a parent and a child, the view of a Protestant and a Catholic and an Orthodox, the view of a teacher and a student.  The view of one who is always certain and of one who is riddled with doubt.  The view of the optimist, and the view of the pessimist.  My point of view is only one vista, one aspect.  Someone else may see the same event, memory, ordinary day in a different light.  That does not need to threaten or undo me, but it does lead to humility.

I am sure I will be talking about this a lot this year.  I have a lot to learn.

New blog banner photo courtesy of....

my beautiful future daughter-in-law. Isn't that a gorgeous picture?

The Way I See It: White

Photo prompt courtesy of Molly at Close to Home.

First Sunday of Advent

First Sunday in Advent

Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armor of light, now in the time of this mortal life in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious majesty to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, one God, now and for ever.  Amen.      

Book of Common Prayer,  Collect for the First Sunday in Advent.

The Way I See It: Nourishment

The Thanksgiving Table 2011

Photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home.  Come join the fun:  The next prompt is Gratitude.

There is the nourishment of the food on Thanksgiving, but it is so much more than that.  The relationships, the traditions, the orchestration of the multifaceted meal, the autumn skies, the piles of dishes in the kitchen, the murmurs of gratitude around the house, the football, the annual viewing of Its A Wonderful Life...Thanksgiving is a day that nourishes my soul as well as my body.  

I love Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving visitors

The wild turkeys came to visit today.  Or perhaps they came to hide.

 They ran faster past the herb plants...poultry seasoning is not a wild turkey's friend.

 They finally found each other and ran for the woods.
Happy Thanksgiving, all!

The Way I See It: Wisdom

Psalm 90: 12-17

So teach us to number our days,
That we may present to You a heart of wisdom.

Do return, O LORD; how long will it be?
And be sorry for Your servants.
O satisfy us in the morning with Your lovingkindness,
That we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Make us glad according to the days You have afflicted us,
And the years we have seen evil.
Let Your work appear to Your servants And Your majesty to their children.

Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us;
And confirm for us the work of our hands;
Yes, confirm the work of our hands.



Photo prompt courtesy of Molly at Close to Home.  She does a different prompt each week.  Why don't you come join the fun?

Autumn

The Way I See It: Simplicity

In the lengthening shadow he has climbed
again to the ridgetop and across
to the westward slope to see the ripe
light of autumn in the turning trees,
the twilight he must go by now
that only grace can give.  Thus far
he keeps the old sectarian piety:
By grace we live.  But he can go

no further.  Having known the grace
that for so long has kept this world,
haggard as it is, as we have made it,
we cannot rest, we must be stirring
to keep that gift dwelling among us,
eternally alive in time.  This
is the great work, no other, none harder,
none nearer rest or more beautiful.

By Wendell Berry

For the complete poem see

XVII, pp. 54-55 from Leavings

photo prompt is from Molly at Close to Home.

W. B. Yeats (1865-1939)

When You Are Old

  When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
  And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
  And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
  Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

  How many loved your moments of glad grace,
  And loved your beauty with love false or true,
  But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
  And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

  And bending down beside the glowing bars,
  Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
  And paced upon the mountains overhead
  And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

I found this poem through the latest photography prompt at the beautiful 3 from here & there

Ten2Kenya

 

I have always had small dreams. Simple pleasures, small victories, pebbles splashing in tiny ponds, this has been my realm.  But a handful of years ago I became better acquainted with my now-dear friend Lisa and her family, and at that moment I was pushed into the front row to watch what big dreams, big vision, big faith look like. I have seen them host an annual carnival to serve and love orphans and widows around the world, I have listened as their door has swung open and slammed shut to hundreds of people who come over to swim, to talk, to laugh, to be loved, I have been the recipient of their love and wisdom and frienship.  Lisa and her family do life big and they do it beautifully. 

And now their family of ten is heading to Kenya to live and work with Agape Ministries, expanding their loving arms to children who have been abandoned to life on the streets of the city of Kisumu in western Kenya. Dreaming big becomes dreaming huge when you put the wheels in motion to get eight children and their parents across the world. Plane tickets, immunizations, packing, cleaning out, and harvesting walnuts on their ranch...they are doing amazing work, and they have not even gotten to African soil yet.

When you read Agape's website, it is gut wrenching.  I can't help but stop and ask how I can contribute in my small way.  I knew we had no more money to give this month, but then the request came out for walnut harvest help; I knew we had gas in the car and three of us who could lend a helping hand, so off we went.

By the time we finished our small part on Monday, prayers of thanksgiving had been said for the completion of the harvest and the dozens (and dozens) of hands that had volunteered to help the Kjeldgaards meet their needs.  They leave for Kenya in 43 days, having seen God use so many to make this dream of serving and loving street children come true.

We love you, Kjeldgaards!  

If you would like to be a part of reaching these children on the streets of Kisumu, you can sponsor a child or you can contribute directly to the Kjeldgaard family's trip (click here to read their newsletter and see where to send your donation.)  I can attest to the integrity, work ethic and devotion of this family, and the facts about street children in Kenya attest to the dire need for this ministry to be present in Kisumu.

**Added later:  A direct link for supporting the Kjeldgaards. 

“Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” James 1:27

P.S.  This is also my The Way I See It: Community post.  Being a part of the Kjeldgaard community is a privilege and a blast.  The Way I See It photography prompt comes from Molly at Close to Home.  If you love seeing life through the lens of your camera, join in the fun each week.  Tomorrow's prompt is patience (Lord, have mercy!)

Road trip

Autumn's beauty is displaying itself boldly outside Madelaine's window in Eugene.  It was perfect Oregon weather for our trip north:  blue sky, a little rain, then plenty of fresh, cool air.  We were in town for a debate tournament, but I was able to sneak away on Thursday and spend the day with my marvelous daughter.  She came down with a nasty bug on Friday, so I was all the more grateful that we took the time away on Thursday.

A gorgeous drive to Harrisburg led to apple picking, difficult pumpkin decisions, and the chance for me to enjoy watching last year's roommates and their rich friendship.

Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow ripening fruit.  ~ Aristotle

Apple picking in the autumn, watching friends quietly chatting, being with my daughter...it was a beautiful day. I am grateful.

The Way I See It: Growth

picture from the archives

One minute you are celebrating the fact that they can tie their own shoes.....

Debate tournament ready

and before you know it.....

you are polishing their wingtips and ironing their button-down.

Growing up...it happens fast.



Enjoy photography? Join Molly this Friday for The Way I See It: Community

The Way I See It: Peace

“You have been given questions to which you cannot be given answers. You will have to live them out - perhaps a little at a time."

"And how long is that going to take?"

"I don't know. As long as you live, perhaps."

"That could be a long time."

"I will tell you a further mystery," he said. "It may take longer.”

Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

I am beginning to realize that an eternal perspective is essential to peace.  I am not the beginning and the end, the world is not revolving around me; the story is so much bigger than my immediate life, or even my entire life.  That is a relief to me.  It is funny how when I come to accept that fact it makes life more precious, each moment more available, and life itself more peace-filled.
 

Each week I look out at the world through Molly's photo prompt and I see this creative exercise weave its way into my contemplation and prayer. Not only has peace been a photo prompt, it has been part of the Lectionary at church and therefore the subject of a fabulous sermon.  These familiar words were perfectly timed:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 4:6&7

Not unlike joy (and if you missed the discussion on joy, you can find the post and the wise and encouraging comments here), peace is one of those things that can seem elusive, diminishing when life gets hard. But the peace we want is not based on ourselves, our circumstances, this moment in time.  It is the peace that comes from putting worries into thankful prayers, and seeing God's peace guarding our hearts and our minds in Christ.  Wow.  That is the kind of peace I want to know.

There is something about the changing seasons that reinforces this eternal perspective and its peace.  The darkness comes earlier, and we have time to light candles and enjoy the evening.

 

The acorns are falling, the leaves are changing colors, the time for planting bulbs and cutting back perennials is here.   As a friend wrote to me this morning, "Life is precious...I keep thinking about how life changes so rapidly while pretending to stay the same, and telling  myself to really be in each moment, appreciating, savoring.  I think if we could really know what a fragile gift life is, we would be living more peaceful, kind, and loving lives."  Some seasons do pretend to stay the same, to last forever, and yet it is in the changes of the natural world that we are reminded again and again that time is marching on.

We have been hit with two rain storms in the last week, and as I type this morning the rain drops are loudly landing on the roof.  The ground is happily soaking up the water, and I can see bits of green overtaking the depressing brown of summer.  Seasons change, time moves on, worries will come and go; the constant can be thankfulness in prayer, and finding true peace as my heart's guard.

The Way I See It is a weekly photo prompt from Molly at Close to Home. I have been so happy to see two friends joining in: Tolle Scribe and The Autumn Rain. Next week's prompt is growth...why don't you join in the fun, too!

I love figs

 

A large pile of ripe figs became a delicious dinner last weekend.  I cooked the fruit over low heat, added half a bottle pinot noir and a sprig of rosemary, and let the liquid reduce to a thick, burgundy sauce.  While the sauce reduced, I browned the pork roast and put it in the crock pot. Adding the sauce, I let it cook until the house was filled with the delicious fragrance.  

Cheesy polenta was the base for the tender meat and sauce.  

Yumola. 

The Way I See It: Evening

Some evenings are for pulling in the driveway and being greeted by the warmth of light and life inside.

Or for watching the beams of the sun's final seconds fall upon the rustic wood in the kitchen,

and noticing the sunset with jaw-dropping awe.

But some evenings are spent on the road, being parent groupies, all set for an evening of loud and proud.

 

It was a solo acoustic night for Zack.

 

 You can learn a lot about your son when you hear his music, watch the joy as his fingers dance on the strings, see his heart in his lyrics.

It was a marvelous evening.  Thanks, Zack.

When joy is almost gone

As I open my emails, answer my phone, read my mail, I am reminded that many of us are in a season of suffering, surrounded by layers of worry and sorrow, and it is collecting deep within us. Worry takes on different faces for different people, and it never is just one thing:  the banal worries of money and terra firma responsibilities, things like lay offs and mortgage troubles and cars breaking and houses aging. Or the love of husband/wife, parent/child, friend to friend, feeling the stretch of years and choices and needing to forgive...again. And even just living with ourselves, seeing our choices and wishing that just this once we could be nice or flexible or ready for the challenge. And then the life and death worries hit us when we are already down; they wash every single other worry away...for a time. The middle of the night phone calls, the hurried travel to be at the bedside of a dying father or cousin or friend, the hope that the surgery of a spouse will bring good news after the terror of waiting, the crash of time and eternity when we wonder why everything else bogs us down so badly. We continue to get up, make ends meet, fix meals, love children, kiss husbands, but eventually we are left wondering where the joy went.

 

One day last week, I reached for whatever perfume was on the bathroom counter. I have three bottles that were my mother's, and I spray a mist of memory out every morning, breathe in Mom's fragrance throughout each day. But the bottle I grabbed was almost empty.  The perfume is called JOY.

 
What do you do when the joy is almost gone?  As someone who believes in God's purposes, who lives for eternity, who knows there is a bigger story being written behind the troubles, I am still human.  And the joy feels depleted right now.

I am curious where YOU go to find joy in troubled times.  What is your wisdom?  Your inspiration?

 

I know that seasons come and go, but joy must transcend the circumstances.  Happiness can be married to the now and its feelings, but joy needs to be bigger and broader and more connected to eternity.

Joy is not gone...just stretched.  I hope you'll chime in.  I would love to hear your thoughts.