Up the Sunbeam

-- Have you given up on me? I wouldn't blame you if you had!! It has been far too long since I've posted anything, and I'm afraid today isn't a normal post either, but it is evidence that even when life crowds in and pushes some things out of the picture for a time, the gratitude goes on! All is well and God is good, friends!! September has been busy with a very demanding class at school and a wonderful, fun-filled, celebratory, re-unifying, much-too-short family get-together with my family from all over North America to celebrate my little brother's wedding! How we laughed and enjoyed our time together!! JOY! JOY! JOY! And boatloads of EUCHARISTEO!! Wishing you all a week filled with gifts and praying that I will soon be back to something like a normal blog schedule! I miss you!! ________________________________ Joining Ann Voskamp in counting His graces for her Multitudes on Monday I hope you'll join in if you haven't already! In t...

-- It's no secret around here that I love to take pictures, although you might not know it by the infrequency of my photo excursions since I started school. How I miss heading out with my camera to capture whatever my eye is falling in love with wherever I happen to be! The unique beauty in a moment can be what lyricist, Alan Jay Lerner once described as "a fleeting wisp of glory"  (1960)  (C.S. Lewis would have liked that line). It may not even last as long as it takes for the earth to turn one degree of its rotation--the light moves, shadows change, and everything is different in only minutes, even seconds. As amazing a gift as memory is, it walks a delicate dance of deciding what to remember and what to forget . The choices it makes about what it should and shouldn't retain don't always match my wishes . . . and so I take pictures. Without pictures to remember what something really looked like, we lose details, we remember only in pieces.       ...

-- "Without fail." Quietly, fiercely, almost to himself, he answered her question. It was only two words, just one soft-spoken answer delivered by Denzell Washington's character in the movie  The Book of Eli , but it has echoed in my heart ever since. A young woman, who knew nothing of such things, had asked him whether he read the book every day . . .  the book he treasured above all else, including his life. [Spoiler Alert] I don't want to give too much away if you haven't seen the movie, but this very special book was none other than the last remaining copy of the Bible in a post-apocalyptic world. This scene, and maybe the whole movie, put a fine point on thoughts my Father had been laying before me all week. First, last Sunday when our pastor spoke of using his phone and a Bible app to listen to the Bible being read out loud, and how important it is to personally eat this daily bread even for pastors who study it as their vocation. That made me th...

-- Great philosopher, Ferris Bueller once quipped, "Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it." Blurring . . . whirring . . . jumbled colors . . . sight and sound . . . Does life ever feel to you like a scene in the old Charlie and the Chocolate Factory movie? You know, the one where Willie Wonka puts them on his whimsical boat and they sail off into a tunnel filled with disjointed and terrifying images projected all around them while he screams bizarre and disturbing poetry into the strange glow? Everyone is so relieved when he yells, "Stop the boat!" Life does move fast. Life is filled with change and challenge, the unexpected, the unwanted and the uncalled-for. But life is also filled with joy and laughter, dreams and fulfillments, pursuits and triumphs, the tried and true, the glorious, the counted-upon. It IS a bit of a jumble, priceless treasures thrown in the same blender with hideous gargoyles ...

-- Drummer boy left early for church this morning. He had to be there by 8:30  to practice with the worship band in preparation for the service the rest of us would attend later . He walked to the car and I stood in my pajamas at the open door, watching him go. He noticed me lingering there, hesitated and said, "What are you doing?" "Just feeling the fresh air," I said, drinking in the beauty of just-sprinkled flowers sparkling in the early rays of golden light. He smiled a knowing smile (he knows his momma does odd things like that), told me he loved me and proceeded to get in the car. I kept standing there even after I'd watched him drive around the bend toward the pale remnants of a tangerine sunrise. I made a point to notice how cool the gentle breeze felt on my face, how crisp and clear the air smelled, and how deep the purple of agapanthus flowers appeared against countless shades of green. It was a new morning, one I'd never seen before, the ...