Up the Sunbeam

-- Blue on blue,  aquamarine  Bay meets a California summer sky, world-famous  San Francisco skyline stitching the seam together. Thousands of people around the globe would give their eye teeth to live as close to this view as I do! And yet, I am caught between worlds, between water and steel, sky and concrete, natural wonders and city marvels. The city is not my home, not my native habitat. I don't mean San Francisco, but city in general. I am as much a foreigner here as a fish out of water, as much a misfit as an eagle living underground. I have lived in California now longer than all my other homes combined, but I don't think I'll ever feel like I'm from here. Even our quiet spot in the suburbs is more city than I'd like in my heart of hearts. There are times when I have a lot in common with the SpongeBob SquarePants character, Sandy Cheeks, a Texas squirrel living at the bottom of the ocean: I'm not from Texas, and I don't have to live in a g

-- For two weeks I had been trying to no avail to block out the raucous and incessant screech emanating from the mulberry tree outside my dining room where I do all my writing. Imagine the sound of a rusty door hinge stuck on infinite repeat!  The noise was so unpleasant and distracting, I had to all but abandon my usual love of an open sliding glass door, just to put something of a buffer between my ears and that horrid squawking sound! One morning, when I did have the door open to let the cool breeze in, I noticed that the squawking was moving around instead of staying in the mulberry tree.  She So Sweet and I went to investigate.  Finally we saw the noisy little culprit who had been disturbing our peace!!  It was a baby mockingbird who had yet to discover he could make more than one sound! We tiptoed out toward the baby bird and much to our surprise he didn't make any effort whatsoever to get away. Perched in a flowering shrub underneath the nest in the mulberry tree, the l

-- So slow, so easy, the unwitting drift. Eyes all full of the immediate wave . . . and the wave on its heels . . . and all the waves upon waves after that, unaware I'm being taken slowly, surely further from where I should be . . . from where I meant to be.   Father, I want to be well! I say it again and again, trying a new prayer on for size instead of the generic and  inexact   Lord help me!   I know, even as I make it known to God that I want to be well, I need to be more specific still, but it's a place to start, a place to launch, a place to set a new course. I am not sick. I'm just not healthy and fit and ready to rock the heck out of this gloriously gifted life I've been given. I have wanted to be. I have wished I was. I have lamented and cringed in shame and yelled at the reflection in the mirror I don't even recognize as me. I miss me. I am living beneath my privilege. "When he came near, Jesus asked him, 'What do you want me

-- "The light still shines in the darkness and the darkness has never put it out. " John 1:5 PHI Caught and captivated by the spangled darkness of a starry and moonless night; the sky seems a limitless ink well, glossy and liquid and black and . . . somehow comforting in the quiet way of shadows. Just in case you wondered . . . just in case you thought so, the enemy does not own the dark! Sometimes, the  dark is just the best backdrop for light. Nowhere is beauty more stunning than in the vividness of contrast, and God is a Master of it! His Shekinah, His powerful, dwelling Presence, blazed glory-fire in a mighty pillar, lighting up the desert nights for His children.  It was not only to give help and comfort to them, but as a warning to anyone who might try to attack . . . My people are not alone in the dark! My people are protected! My people are MINE!! I. AM. HERE!!! God is not afraid of the dark!   "And they will tell the inhabitants of this land about it

-- It doesn't always feel like this. Sometimes the thoughts and words and pictures bubble to the surface so plentifully that I can hardly tap out the keys and snap the shutter fast enough to keep up. But at the moment, my mind is a blank, a blur, unfocused, unsure. If I want to be any kind of professional at this writing life, how can I withstand and overcome this dryness in my creativity. What am I missing? Why am I so empty of ideas? My heart and life are not empty. I am filled with the goodness of God, the blessing of my precious family, a life that is rich with beauty and provision despite an extended period of economic uncertainty both for our family and the world. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Minutes after I wrote those few grasping words, writing about not being able to write, my computer blue-screened to match the blue-screen in my mind. For the last two days I have tried everything I can think of to rescue my computer, but it appears to be down for the count. N