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Showing posts from September, 2017

The Sky's Voice

A few weeks ago today it was Solar Eclipse 2017.
The day before our pastor dedicated his entire message to Psalm 19.
The words fit the week.
We went through the verses one at a time.
The theme of the message was uplifting.
This solar eclipse wasn't some dark omen as some would say. Some precursor to judgment.
It was another day in the life of sky speech.
An exquisite mathematical alignment in the universe that speaks to everyone watching of God's breathtaking glory and ultimate supremacy.

Psalm 19
The heavens declare the glory of God;
the skies proclaim the work of His hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; 
night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.(NIV) 

As the pastor read these words I felt a blanket of awe fold over me.  Kind of like the black velvet that blankets the night sky. Those words always capture my mind and make me …

Work

Work.  This word prompt sends my mind in so many directions.  
I think of  my dad getting in his little Honda every day for thirty some years off to his work crisscrossing hundreds of miles weekly as a building supplies salesmen.
"How was work?" I ask him while he slides his knife easily through roast beef at dinner.
"It was work." He says simply and a slight smile plays on the corner of his mouth.
I think of the word work and I think about the necessity of work in all of our lives.
Life requires work. For food, shelter, clothing, financial security, and yes health insurance. Work is  involved in all of the lovely parts of life.  Work is involved in the creating of beauty. A beautiful yard, painting, house...A beautiful life.

I say the word work and my mind flashes to art class.
I'm sitting in a basement art class that smells thickly of bisque and wet clay structures drying in window sills.
The art teacher is explaining our collaborative painting mimicking a g…

Neighbor

I still remember her smile spread wide across her flawless olive skin. Her hazel green eyes. Her dark rich hair.
Her eyes danced whenever she smiled and flickered mischief whenever she said something she knew was funny.
She was my mom's best friend and next door neighbor.
Mary.
She was a former teacher turned stay at home mom.
She was simply fun. And loud. And Italian.
I always enjoyed whenever my mom crossed the yard and visited with Mary.
I remember the way my mom loved Mary.
They talked about flowers, gardening, yardwork and helped throw Tupperware parties.
They discussed education and had long heart to hearts.
I don't know how long Mary lived next door, but I remember that my mom never had another neighbor quite like that.
A neighbor who moved in and became your best friend.

My sweet friend Jenna and I are separated by hundreds of miles.  We don't get to talk often, but that doesn't matter. Every time I hear her voice and we talk time and distance haven't erod…