Halloween wish

To sit with some good friends and wait for the Great Pumpkin!

The girl at the bar....

It's Monday afternoon, I tie my hair up in a bun, slip on a brown apron and begin to pull shots. The air is full of the smell of coffee and fresh pastries. Some people order coffee that taste like coffee, and some order coffee that has no coffee taste left under the piles of flavor. We talk small talk, talk about the weekend, the weather, travel plans, sometimes we share our life journey. Trying to make them feel at home in the midst of a full day. People tend to like to talk. Except the girl.

She is a 6th grade ish (who knows) I've never gotten a full sentence from her that wasn't a question. She comes in with her dad (I think) and just stands at the bar watching me, and the coffee, and the coffee drinkers, until her dad is done with his coffee meeting and they leave.

One can't help but wonder about her. She is so quiet, but I believe she trully enjoys being around people, she could have just read a book, but instead stands watching for sometimes up to a hour. Today I explained to her why we time shots; I also found out she hasn't seen Toy Story 2 yet, but would like to. It came out that she hasn't seen any of the Toy Story movies..... really PIXAR? Is her father trying to save her from the evils of PIXAR??? I was scared to ask her if she had ever seen a movie. She is a girl full of secrets and will never tell one of them. I wonder if her life is always quiet and she doesn't know what to do with words or if life is a shouting match and she doesn't want to add to the noise.

So the two of us stand at the bar smiling trying to understand the other's life.

thoughts....

• fall, not spring, is the beginning of my year
• seeds, bulbs... growing
  
• taking another step towards being whom I am meant to be... think: walking deeper into light
• moves, change, choice
• hurt, pain, suffering, hiding- giving up vs. fighting to the death
• this world is WAY bigger then me
• love, romance, adventure, trust
• understanding not just hearing, and learning to listen for whats not said
• friends, dear friends, best friends, being a friend
• acting in love through fear not because of fear

Happy Wedding !!!!!!

odd...

Things you do to prepare for a wedding :)

Sunday 29th

On a retreat with Bono and Annie Dillard..... I can breath

red, blue, yellow...

So lately I've been struck by color. Tonight we had a party at the house decorated with Chines lanterns hanging across the garden, I thought it was the most beautiful things I had seen in a while. Yesterday, at our favorite lunch shop, there was painting titled "the birth of a star" full of pinks and yellows, somehow I knew that's what a stars birth looked like; full of color, not surrounded with blackness. I always knew I liked color but, there is something about color I love. It stands up and asks to be noticed, it doesn't say sorry for hanging on your wall. It isn't sad and tired of being. It's alive and wants to keep living, and will remind you how to live.

filming...

This is similar to where we were filming on Saturday. It was so beautiful I wanted to share it with you :)

Today....

after a yummy meal, my cousin and I talked about shifts in the Church that we felt would soon come; choices she (the church) would have to make, and a mindset that *might* alter. We continued in the conversation talking about how the body of Christ is not limited to the church I worship with but truly the catholic Church. How are we being the Bride if we are a severed body that doesn't trust each other?

Some interesting thoughts for a sunny afternoon.

April 14th

It's raining. I can hear the soft drops land. The road is gleaming with water. the air is full of a sweet scent. The wind is hardly moving; just enough for the trees to dance.

waiting to feel better

wishing the hurt would just leave...

you don't see these tears,
what's new
I've never let you see them before,
but now you never will.
I can't call you to tell you of the ache inside,
it's made of joys I want to share
and of the sorrow
knowing I never will.

we wait on you, use us to rock this city, please :)

Having trouble seeing Portland as a dark city, there might only be a handful of churches here but they love God, long for God, they know they are "the church of Portland" and it shines out like a bonfire on a hill.

God, ....

......alright.... everything else is a bow on the package.

psalm 4

Go read it.
So good. Verses 6&7, they(the people) are all asking "who will show us any good?" It wasn't their false gods (vs2) Answer:" Let the light of your face shine upon us, O Lord" the writer goes on to say that God has given him joy that goes beyond the the feeling of a successful harvest. - They are looking for the things around them to make them happy, and be happy about, right down to looking at idles around them. But the writer has found God gives great joy (a state beyond circumstances).
Ahhh days like today I wish I could read Hebrew, so I could understand better who all is talking in this psalm.....
Did I mention verse 8? "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety." I think he understands who his life belongs to. :)

white |(h)wīt|

white |(h)wīt|
adjective
1 of the color of milk or fresh snow, due to the reflection of most wavelengths of visible light; the opposite of black

What a good color, compared to milk and fresh snow. :)

Yes!! Another Autumn day...

summer kids' club

It was quite the adventure, going where no man has gone before, making it up as we went along and watching God put the pieces in place. So many ways he showed himself, and encouraged.

It was great walking around the church seeing a princes chase a prince in one room, a beach in an other, boys running around in trench coats with laser tag guns, a mass of kids dressed as birds and dogs, and what could beat Tommie in his button up shirt talking in his very matter of fact way while wearing a cat-ear headband. Yeah! for creativity. God is not boring.

Now sleep a good cry and eating regularly are on the list of things to do.

God, Help !!!

God, Help. I want to be able to give myself. I think S.F. is right, I hide from people. Mom's right I don't really tell people what's going on. I'm hitting a wall with cg knowing I'm on the edge, that I need to either jump in and open up (which also means willing to love them, give away more of my heart) or float away. It's like a great tug-of-war game is going on in my soul. The desire to be known, have some roots (even if they are shorter, then most) The fear is to hurt again, I want to be done with good-byes, if I give away my heart to these people there might be none left for latter. And it's not just them, also with other friends.

It's not them, it's the hundreds of people (literally) before them that I've loved and said good-bye to.

Every one has been kind. Down through the ages move after move, box after box, new church after new church they have all been kind.

Love is like manure you can only grow when you spread it around. (true)

God, help me to do it again, to make the effort, to look them in the eye, and dare to care about them, again, to keep caring, not cut them off when it's authentic, when they care, only because I'm scared of being hurt... of the pain... of what joy we would miss out on if we never experienced pain.

I can't believe the news today, why can't I close my eyes and make it go away?

I'm ready to do something, to try and make a change, I'm tired of life going on this way and people not seeming to realize something is wrong. So I'll keep doing what is asked of me and remind the world of the way things were meant to be back in the age of joy.

Back in Portland

eight months... what happened?

Trying to think over some of what I've learned here, on this adventure.

When I wasn't with family I was with fellow students or coworkers. Equals. comrades. These last few months my eyes have been open to being alone. There are way more situations at church that are designed for a couple or family then I would have guessed. They are simply awkward alone. This might have been heightened by the fact there are only three (yes three) 'out of college non parents' attending this church.

The wish to be somewhere long term. It took seven months for me to slip into place, know the people and know how to get things done. I can't help but wonder what would happen if I stayed somewhere and got to be involved in children's lives not just for a week or a few months but years. Getting to be there when they are first hearing about God, and staying alongside as they grow and go deeper, challenging them, mentoring them, and seeing them head off to see how they can reclaim this world for God. This seems an absurd dream because my current average is 19 months.

That God provides for me. It looks silly written there, but it had to be learned. In the past it was "God provides for my family" Over and over again growing up we would see how God was taking care of us. However there were six of us, and we were missionaries of course God was going to take care of us, but now it was just little Anna, all by herself at the grocery store. John 6:5-6 (said with a smile)

Thoughts on leadership in the church have been rolling around in my mind for the past couple of years. The thoughts were intensified this last year. Because here I was teaching kids about God, which is a terrifying thought and even more scary if you're not sure if it's a Biblical thing to do. Should a women lead? Who can she lead? What about preaching? And many more questions all boiled down to one answer Dr. Mary gave me over a year ago:" Do what God asks you to do." Simple.

Last: a wish to be bold.

There is more I've learned but you'll have to ask me out to coffee to hear it :)

Thoughts before leaving- Tuesday

The word Doorway.

That Nathan, Eli and Jake want me to be their sister.

That I should start the packing process

That I like Andrew Bird's album Armchair Apocrypha

Today is the first of my last lunches

I wish I was bold

Is Frozen

Thought you should know.

They almost made the cut

It was my job to find a Mother's Day poem for the kids to put on a card, and these didn't quiet make it, but I liked them so now you get to read them! ! ! (lucky you)

Poems and Lyrics

In All Honor

Every man, for the sake of the great blessed Mother in Heaven, and for the love of his own little mother on earth, should handle all womankind gently, and hold them in all Honor.

- Alfred Lord Tennyson

Angels of God

They are angels of God in disguise;
His sunlight still gleams in their tresses;
His glory still gleams in their eyes.

- Charles M. Dickinson

Wonderful Mother

God made a wonderful mother,
A mother who never grows old;
He made her smile of the sunshine.
And He moulded her heart of pure gold;
In her eyes He placed bright shining stars,
In her cheeks fair roses you see;
God made a wonderful mother,
And He gave that dear mother to me.

- Pat O'Reill

Richer Then Gold

You may have tangible wealth untold;
Caskets of jewels and coffers of gold.
Richer than I you can never be -
I had a mother who read to me.

- Strickland Gillilan (1869-1954)

A Precious Mother

Mom You've given me so much,
Love from your heart and the warmth of your touch.

The gift of life and you're a friend to me.
We have a very Special Bond which only comes from God...
I'm sure you agree.

As a child I would say Mommy I Love You,
Now you're my Mother so dear
I love you even more with each and every new year.

If I could had chosen, I would have picked no other.
Than for you ... to be my lifelong friend and Precious Mother.

- Author Unknown.

Sailing Oh for there only to be seven seas...

starting to put pieces together
along the bank I walk
I must
swim I could
but sail I must
wandering over to this scrap and the next
picking them up and carefully
oh so carefully
adding them to the rest

I take out from my jacket pocket
dazzling white
my sail
which sewn with threads of thoughts
and a sheet of dreams (not yet written on)

and here with scraps of my soon past
and my always never reached future
I head out again on the mighty sea of change


sailing into the vast,
but never lost
for above my head unchanging (no matter where my pillow be)
are the heavens
they guide me
the moon
it pulls me
the sun
it warms me
and the sea breeze...
whispers sweets into my ear

no matter where raft or feet might go

Books

It is interesting what he has to say and that he says it from a "this is what I see happening" viewpoint, the man knows a lot from asking questions and observing. I'd recommend reading this book if you plan on ever working with or living with children.

In our lust for the latest and the greatest, we are apt to ignore the lessons of the past and fail to explore our connections to the historic Church. Have you noticed that these days there is little sense of spiritual heritage that gets passed from one generation to the next of believers to the next?

Select almost any section of the Old Testament and you encounter stories about what was done in the past by the person's spiritual forefathers. These days we barely know our relatives, much less what they believed and how they lived their lives in the light of God's Word and calling. The result is that each generation feels as if it is reinventing Christianity- and a lot of spiritual wisdom and truth gets lost in the process.

George Barna - Transforming Children into Spiritual Champions

Eighteen Days...

eighteen days...

four school lunches

three more Sundays

two more Mondays

one more Impact lesson

Then what? How very exciting....

I think it should be called Black Friday, but that is already taken

yummy

For Abigail

(the way you would write it :)


First gently
then
with a windy rush
she dances over the hills.
Towards you
with arms open wide
she runs.

She wraps you
in colorful garb
jeweled with crocuses
and
daffy down dillies .
With golden sun
she strokes your hair.
Sets your heart free
with the song
of the soaring bird.

Here on this day
she comes
baring gifts
of beauty
of joy,
of life,
of color
of the earth wakening

All here
to celebrate
your birthday.

For Abigail

(how I would write it)

First gently, then with a windy rush she dances over the hills.
Towards you, with arms open wide she runs.

She wraps you in colorful garb
jeweled with crocuses
and daffy down dillies .
With golden sun she strokes your hair.
Sets your heart free with the song of the soaring bird.

Here on this day she comes baring gifts of beauty, joy, life, color,
and sound of the earth wakening

All here
to celebrate
your birthday.

It would be okay, really.

I wouldn't mind being out of a job.

If you all want to have a great marriage, and train your kids in the way they should go, I'd be okay with no longer having a job.






Practically though, as long as church services happen I will have a job.

Prayer... more thoughts

Fall of 93 my family was in limbo waiting to leave but still around. We lived with some friends who had a daughter in my kindergarten class. Kindergarten was great, and what made it better was it was in the afternoon.
A day as I remembered it:

• Wake up
• play with the cat
• get ready
• eat
• go to school
• go home in the sunshine
• play with my friend
• all the kids (and the ones next-door) playing cops and robbers
• going to sleep

Life was good.

I don't remember very much of what the grown-ups did, Hilary and I were busy playing with Barbies and making up our own language, but I do have two memories with her father in them. First one morning as I wondered upstairs to eat breakfast/lunch I saw the parents (and maybe others) in the living room praying. Second Everyone from both families was standing in a circle we were praying together, I'm not sure what about, I remember thinking it was odd we were standing next to the arcade games that lived in the basement.

All this to say, out of all the memories I could have of Hilary's father (and don't) the only ones I do have are of him praying.

...Morning Snowy a on Thoughts

It just happened to be last nights reading was Mark 9:33-37

It caused a smile to appear on my face.

Timing.

He has great timing.

Monday Nothing to Share

She sifts through them all one by one,
none are complete,
she picks one up- only to toss it aside.
Up and down the rows of desks she meanders,
covered with typewriters and papers
they look as if it should be there.
Maybe she missed it,
maybe something happened while she was out.
Time is coming closer,
she has nothing to show.

The sound of her heels is the only sound left,
and they too, soon leave the room.

Thoughts on a snowy morning...

When you aren't sure what you are saying but you know it needs to be said. When you no longer care what the world thinks.....

Why do Christians lower themselves to do cheep copies of others?

If being a leader means to be a servant how can I do that? Can I do that in the Church? Will I be able to have a family and be a servant leader without missing out on the lives of my family?

Where is the line? Is there a line?

Everyone should serve.

Are prophets outspoken people who God is teaching to say what He wants? Or are they maybe quiet people who struggle with speaking at all?

Do women tend to be more misguided then men when it comes to spiritual things?

Why is it that they tend to be the anchor of a family (not mine but others)

Where did we misplace the men? Has anyone seen them?

After being in charge for so long will we let them lead?

If I can't shepherd a Church body (which I'm fine with and agree) then is it really okay for me to shepherd the kids? They are tomorrow's body. Is everybody okay with this?

Family! If only the family was what it was meant to be most of these questions would be gone!!

Great...

God, If you wanted to today would be fine. (sure I'd like that house in the country close to the city, but I'll get over it : )

Sunday

Ten more.

Processing

Sunday I was met with an unexpected turn of events (or maybe a factor over looked, that was brought to attention)

When I think working with kids I think; spending time with them, having fun, listening to them, praying for pets, runny noses, showing them truth about God, showing them how to have a friendship with their Creator, cleaning knees, looking for lost things, trying to communicate with parents, being tired, not wanting to do anything else with my life, filled with holy fear.

Something I had not thought of was: death.

Death.

True while working at camp sometimes I had a camper that was working through a death that had reshaped their world but that was about 1 in 3oo.

Today I went to my first funeral as someone officially involved in Children's Ministries. I was there for one child in particular. A girl in third grade. It was her grandfather's funeral.

As she walked towards my post of directing visitors towards the dinner line, I saw her, my heart fell to pieces. He was dead. How could I ever hope to explain why he was happy in Heaven while she misses him here on earth?

Not only her but all the children after her, after today.

Prayer... more thoughts....and questions

The other evening around the dinner table I asked the boys I babysit (we'll call them the three brothers of the mountain : ) what they thought prayer was, how can you pray, do you need to say anything, can doing something that pleases God be a prayer, can playing outside be praying.... and other question and they answered each one with no or very little hesitation. Things I've been mulling over they somehow already know, and feel certain about.

As I sat there listening to the three brothers of the mountain discuss prayer while dunking their grilled cheese sandwiches into their bowls of soup. I thought about the Holy Spirit. How he helps us speak to God, and how he works in our life if we let him. Also I thought about all the unlearning we have to do in the Christian walk (don't misunderstand me, God has given wisdom to many people and it is a privilege to be taught by them) For instance as a child Mom is talking to Grandma on the phone, Mom hands you the phone so Grandma can talk to you. Grandma says hi- and you smile, Grandma asks if you like all the snow- you nod your head. Mom steps in and says Grandma can't see you so you need to use words.
I could explain other things we need to unlearn but I think you get the picture.

Last thought: Maybe there is more to childlike faith then I thought...

My Answer

The patter of rain failing from the full gutters mingles with the pure voices claiming undying love in a way only opera can. Here watching the grey clouds roll by my mind goes back to a question on an almost starless night. "Have you thought of saving the world?"It was asked almost in a whisper because it was to exciting to be overheard. Have I? Yes! The answer is yes! How do I plan on saving it? By saving tomorrow. By showing children how to live. Telling them about light, love and life. Then when they are older and someone asks them what they want to do with their life they will answer "Live in the light". When they have children they will pass on what I tried to teach them: to love, to seek light and to live. That is my plan to save the world, one childhood at a time.

Prayer... more thoughts

Psalm 44 at first seemed like the normal "God you're cool" psalm, then it turned into "Our lives stink" also a standard theme for a psalm, normally because the psalmist has forgotten God, then it turns into "We have been faithful" odd seeing how their lives stink, then as it nears the end the psalmist tells God (and I quote) :

"Awake, O Lord! Why do you sleep?
Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever.
why do you hide your face
and forget our misery and oppression?"

He then reminds God of his (God's) unfailing love.

All in all a rather surprising psalm. The strangest part for me isn't the emotions the psalmist went through. I think I've felt all of those, no the strange part is that it's in the Bible.

Think about it, we know that the Bible is inspired. And here we have someone complaining/pleading with God. Is that okay? There isn't a post script saying the man was killed by lightning after he penned the words.

It seems there is another aspect of prayer that I haven't thought about.

Quote

We would not make our prayers the importuning of Thee, an omnipotent God, to do what we want Thee to do. Rather, give us the vision, the courage, that shall enlarge our horizons and stretch our faith to the adventure of seeking Thy loving will for our lives.

Peter Marshall

Kids and cold water

Wednesday was full of sun as I walked the five or so blocks to the elementary school. Lunch today was corndogs, a favorite. Quietly I signed in and headed to the cafeteria. The ladies behind the counter know me and kindly gave me two corndogs and jokingly told me not to let the kids see.

Over to the 1st & 2nd grader table I went. They scooted and I had a seat. They all notice within a matter a seconds that I had a second corndog. When asked I simple said "They just put it on my plate" (which was completely true) Then the kids started talking about how nice the kitchen ladies are, and how they gave one of the boys a cup of cold water. They went on and on about how they handed him the styrofoam cup full of water, and how nice they were.

During this conversation a particular teacher on lunch duty walked by and remind the kids to talk quietly and keep eating. When she was out of earshot the kids told me all the mean things she had said to them.

The stark difference was there: a teacher who should have been a life giver had instead decide to belittle her students who now claimed to hate her and three cooks who spent not even a minute a day with the kids were their heroes.

Monday

Words caught in rose light
In this moment every dream seems a future truth
The wind brings the sound of a symphony
Light wraps around me like a memory, unfamiliar yet not unwished for
Struggles in the past are hard to recall and certain to never rise again

Sun and clouds singing gently to the frozen earth (for a moment seems alive) unsure if I should see this act of gentleness

Manna

Zucchini bread, corn muffins, and now fruit cake. What do they have in common? They are bread that God has given. Over and over God has blessed me with food given randomly.
"He asked this only to test them, for he already had in mind what he was going to do." John 6:6 It has been an interesting game. I keep feeling like he is smiling and waiting for me to ask then he pulls something from behind his back. May I remember all things come from you.

P.S. Did I mention they all taste delightful?

Thursday-Get On Your Boots

I bought the new U2 single.

take a trip inside your head, spend the day there...

Life right now consists of me thinking about the following things

Pray- what does it mean to pray, when am I praying?...

Throwing up, and how cool it is that the body can get it up (think about it) and out

Teaching, how can I say it in a way that the kids will understand better????

Bambi's family came back without him

When do I get to do laundry next????

What will we do for VBS this summer?

I tried to think of some sort of a post that I could interweave all these thoughts but that didn't happen.

pray...a fire shut upin my bones... this is for you, Abigail!

I know lots of things are wrong with her, but I'm excited about who she will become and the story she is a part of.

Psalm 143

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love,
for I have put my trust in you.
Show me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.
Rescue me from my enemies,
O Lord,
for I hide myself in you.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God;
may your good Spirit lead me on level ground.

Sad year

A chapter of our childhoods is closed. They have closed their doors for forever, no more pink elephants,

Random thoughts waiting to be put together

Still
Wide skies
Sun slipping behind the mountains
Silent brook reflecting golden and blue hues
Train thunders by
The brook barely replies stillness reigns again

Reflections
Blue sky with rose clouds
Brown mountains powdered with snow
Golden fields standing still
Puddles in the creek
With blue and rose sky

Thursday Dad's Birthday

maybe

Do you ever wonder if you just gave your computer one too many tasks to preform, maybe this time it will blow up, or that maybe while you walk up the hundreds of years old stairs today they will collapse, that maybe the rainbow is waiting for someone to look for the end of it again, maybe that bird is the little birdie who knows so much? Perhaps you can run on the tops of trees, and get lost in a fairy tale.

On a dark Winter night many Christmases ago

Thursday the 17th

Thursday the 11th

Monday, on an airplane

Sometimes we long for nothing more then to runaway, into ourselves and close the door to the world. Wanting to (or fearing to) see the world a certain way. But when we are forced to be with each other we view life in a broader way. Sitting here I see a wide variety, a girl who cuts (her bracelets don't cover the scars) young parents, businessmen who never look comfortable outside an office building, a single dad taking his girls to Disneyland, for them everything is new; the smells the aches in the ears the feeling when the plane tilts. The baby is playing with the pop-can (clush, tush) then giggles. Here we are on common ground of sorts, for a little while at least are fates are tied-up together like a bundle of balloons floating through the sky. Maybe here in this cabin I can plea for humanity, for peace. What would happen if I stood and begin to speak? Would they listen? What is going through their heads? Does anybody care? Can the baby feel the broken lives? Is that why she is crying? Why aren't I crying? From the window I can see city lights flickering through the clouds. The crying has stopped. I wish it was that easy.

Art!!!

My mind is exploding about art! Someone help me put the pieces together please. God, what are you doing and what are you wanting me to do?

Waiting...yeah!!!

Gloria in Excelsis

Reverberating
bouncing from one wall to another

Yesterday it was full
hot, sweaty
basketballs going up and down
caught up in life
in moments


But not so now

Today in the stillness
the words grow as they leave my lips
soaring to the ceiling
multiplying until they fill the room
no longer sounding like mine
no longer sounding like I'm alone

A moment more
then silence

the 27th

Excitedly waiting,
counting down the days.
Already a favorite day,
now all the more special.

Part of me cautioning,
not wanting disappointment,
but what do I wish for?

home,
those who know me,
to be touched,
people I love,
for a calming hand on my head,
to be able to show I care,
for the smile to be seen.

Thursday...stars

The Red Bucket Part 3

It was Cordelia standing with a birthday candle on top of her head. Peter ran into the crowd towards the stage. The sight of this thing of fluff was so odd all the Blue Trolls simply stared at him. Not until he reached the confused Cordelia and place the red bucket on her head did they make a move to stop him. Peter grabbed Cordelia's hand and ran while flinging cats on his attackers. Out of the Green they were followed, through the streets of mud and into the woods. The Blue Trolls were closes upon their heels, but further back then they might have been (probably they had stopped to pick up a club or something of that sort), Peter knew that the Blue Trolls would undoubtably overtake them if they continued running through the woods, so he did the only logical thing. Helping Cordelia they climbed to the tops of the trees and continued racing as fast as their feet could take them. Underneath the canopy they could hear the grunts and snarls of the Blue Trolls. As Peter and Cordelia neared the end of the tree tops they saw rushing towards the woods a shinny sea of color! It was in fact an army of bucket men. There was just time enough to place Cordelia under the protection of a few Bucket Soldiers, then turn and face the woods as the Blue Trolls pored out.

What fallowed was such a great victory for the Bucket Soldiers that for hundreds of years the Blue Trolls didn't dare cross over from their own side of the mountain.
Peter saw to it that Cordelia reached her cottage in safety, and that any damage caused by the Blue Trolls be repaired. Cordelia learned from the Bucket Soldiers that Peter was one of the princes of the kingdom ( I say "one of" to point out he was not in line for the throne) that he had chosen to join the Bucket Soldiers instead of living in the capital discussing politics.

Time continued in her dance through the seasons unfolding each one as a much awaited gift. As he traveled Peter would stop by to see Cordelia . Eventually and undoubtably they fell into love, as quietly as a descending Autumn leaf and as beautifully as a Spring sunrise.

Thursday ...yum!

-I look like Christopher-

The Red Bucket. There's more!!! For the writer guild

Once upon a time there was a red bucket, this bucket belonged to a young woman who lived in a simple cottage between the village and the mountains. The village is of no great importance except it was the last one before you reached the mountains, the road however that went past the young woman's house would normally be considered of great importance because it went from one end of the country to the other, but this fact is of little us to us for as I have said our story is about a red bucket. Our story begins on an Autumn day when the hillsides were painted in brilliant colors. It had been raining and the roof of the cottage had a leak, so the young woman setup the red bucket to catch the leak. At the first peering of the sun up to the roof she went to see if she could fix it. The clouds created drama in the vast sky, and the rain made the world seem polished as if for a special occasion. The young woman took in the whole scene with a satisfied grin. There were few things she enjoyed more then standing on her thatched roof looking at (what seemed) the whole world. Only one thing marred the beauty and that was the blue smoke rising from the woods. A noise from below woke her from her thoughts.
"Hello Madam" You might have been surprised, dear reader, by what this unknown man looked like, for from head to toe with only his face showing he was wearing buckets of all different size and color, he wore it like some men wear armer, outside their clothes yet so bulky you can't really tell anything about the man inside except his hight. Cordelia (for that was the young woman's name) wasn't startled about his appearance only at him appearing.
"I was walking by and couldn't help but wonder if you need assistance down from your roof." Cordelia explained she was perfectly fine, merely fixing a leak ing her roof. Personally I haven't the lest idea how one would fix a leak in a thatch roof, and I don't know if Cordelia really knew what she was doing, and won't know because the bucket man insisted on doing it himself. Up he climbed (it was quite the clamor) to see what could be done. During the course of conversation he introduced himself, his name was Peter and he was a guard against the Blue Trolls. As anyone from that country wold be able to tell because of the buckets. Peter said he was sent out because some trolls had been seen at neighboring villages. Then Cordelia pointed out the blue smoke she had seen rising from the woods. After an appropriate amount of time he declared the roof fixed. Climbed down and headed on his way. Before he left he told Cordelia to be extra carful.

Now is a good time to clear up confusion about Blue Trolls. Blue Trolls are not blue. Their favorite color is blue so they always wear it. Their fire has blue smoke, and in the mud they leave blue footprints. Those are the main reasons why they are called Blue Trolls.

A week later the bucket man returned to the area of Cordelia's cottage and thought he would stop in to see if everything was fine. As he neared the cottage his face fell. It had rained the night before and in the mud were blue footprints. With each step towards the house it seemed another set joined them. When he reached the cottage itself it was completely surrounded by blue mud there where so many footprints. He ran inside and of course she wasn't there, franticly he looked around, his eyes landed on the red bucket, he grabbed it (though he was in a hurry he did notice the bucket was placed under the leak and that it was empty) and ran.

Following Blue Trolls after it rains is rather easy, but always dangerous. Into the woods the blue prints lead him. He ran deeper and deeper into the woods, they became so think he had to take off the buckets just so he could fit between the trees, he kept only the red bucket and the one on his own head. Then he was there, at their village (if such structures could be called buildings). There wasn't a troll in sight, but oddly all the footprints lead in the same direction, to the center of town. You might (just might) remember from the stories you heard when you were little that Blue Trolls enjoy having cats as pets (which explains all the cats that go missing by the mountains) Peter started coving himself with cats, so many cats that he looked like a ball of fluff. They clung on with their sharp claws, yowling and hissing. In such a state Peter entered the Green.

It was full of Blue Trolls, young and old all gathered to celebrate Great Great Great Grandma Blue Troll's birthday. In the center of the stage he saw what he had know and feared he would see, yet now that it was there before him he felt sick and weak and outraged.

Thursday, reading

Never name wild creatures, especially bucks during hunting season

Well he has been gone for over two weeks. He used to sit by one of the buildings, out of the wind and sun, but seeing how it's hunting season and that the butcher next door is staying in business, I fear my furry friend has met a bloody end.

Over the mountains she rolls.
Weaving through the trees,
whispering something to them.
A murmur of russell,
you hear in reply

Down among the grass
she tells her tale.
Then upwards flying,
towards the heavens,
to glide among the clouds

What she tells them
I'm not sure,
but the effect
is plain to see

Thursday, at the ranch

Monday - A Short Story-

I don't remember all the rules, but I thought I would give it a try:

Sealed letters, deceived maiden, dejected lover.

Thursday, full of kids

nothing to offer

It's so odd, being so far, normally I can be there, watch the kids, stay up late, clean the house, but now I'm so far away, I can't hold the crying baby, or scrub a dirty floor, I can't show them I love them by being there for them. Instead I'm hours away having to be grateful for others who are there, and hope that somehow my prayers will make a difference.

Up in the Apple Tree

(must be read out loud with a british accent)

This tree has become
my friend of late.
Only fitting
a poem has been wrote
Quiet and gentle,
bracing this spinning world.
A perfect perch
are it's branches
Oval leaves
fill the tree.
And sweet rotten apples
scent the air.


October-3rd-2008

LOST!

Once upon a time there were pictures of a girl and some of her friends, in the pictures they were sitting on a bluff, the season was Autumn. The girl one day was looking through a book full of faces of her friends trying to find said pictures because she was sure she put them there, but she couldn't find them, so then she looked through her blog. But couldn't find them there either. If anyone (maybe Matthew) knows where they are please let me know thanks.


above photo thoughtfully borrowed from BDT

Fact

When my neighbor is online my internet doesn't work. Same for him.

part of a dream

Today I helped babysit, and this is the picture I drew. I thought it would be fun to share.

Maybe...

Out downtown, looking in one of our favorite stores.
She was crying on the bench outside, she looked around my age.
She looked away as people passed by, so they wouldn't see the tears. What's going on?
What should I've done?
I wish I could go back and sit with her.

Thursday, a search for color

should have been up Monday

Here in the lounge I sit, during a hour free.
The fire sparks and dances,
the music of the rain outside falls onto the beautiful wet leaves.
With friends dear I dwell in peace.
Not that I don't care for matters of this world,
I know all is well, and will end well,
a taste of how it might be.


August-September

Thursday

Books

Some of you may know that in a few days I'll be moving to a land far far away. I have a feeling there will be lots of long winter evenings perfect for reading. So if you all could recommend a book for me to read I would be grateful. Also you get bonus points if you find a way of getting a copy of the book to me. Think it over, you have a week.

Gold painted on a soft blue sky. Kara and I went on a walk from house to favorite house, strolling arm in arm, (thank you sisters don't have to be born into the family) enjoying the autumn wind that was rushing about. A beautiful evening.

As we talked about how are days were. I mentioned I had spent the morning discovering who I am (you'd think after living with myself for a couple decades I'd have me figured out) it came down to enjoying out of doors (sky, trees, water, clouds, elephants...) people, and creating beauty with my hands. As I think about it there are people in my life who have encouraged me (seen the unspoken longing). If I hadn't been for them I wonder if I would be where I am today on my journey of discovering. They taught me to open my arms to the wind, look for the face a Creator in those he created.

Seeing that they've done such a great job now I'm going to watch a moving with people.

Latter

thoughts...

End of summer.
Change in the wind, can you hear it?
Music, beautiful music with beautiful people.
Cookies are out of the oven.
Going to a party, wearing pearls.
Robert played excellently last night,
I couldn't be prouder of the man he's growing to be.
Friends lives are changing also.
God feels deeply, I'm not alone.
Autumn will come with her splendour.

for Zeppo

Dum vivimus, vivamus. Let us live while we're living.

There you go.

Yeah for road trips!

Childhood. Maybe playing in the yard. Eating bugs. Eating dirt. Climbing trees. Falling from trees. Playing "Pretend". Learning to read. Reading and forgetting yourself. Skinned knees.

These are some things I think of when I think childhood. Also road trips. I think I have just as many memories of road trips as living at home (maybe a closes second) anyway they are fun and have a near and dear place in my heart.


We just went to Yellowstone, it was fun and very educational. Here are a few things we learned;

If you camp (tent) with RVs you get the showers to yourself.
Sagebrush taste VERY strong, a little goes a long way.
Yellowstone sits inside a volcano (comforting).
The stink pots ohh I mean paint pots still stink.
Smoky Bear was real.
You can get a car tan (half of my face is tanner then the other).

So you can see we learned a lot. It was a good trip. We saw moose!!!

Hope you all had a good summer too.


P.S. the sun was really bright.

God, U2 & Pringles

FACT 1: Work is a blessing. More work then I feel like doing seems like a curse.

The other day during my use to be to be three hour work day that turned into a seven hour day (Katie I know what your thinking just listen to the story) anyway the day was dragging on, I tried hard not to be grumpy. Lately God has been showing me when I'm grumpy it takes all the fun out of it for the both of us. So I'm practicing just doing the next thing (bird by bird if you will:)

FACT 2: U2 is one of the best bands of our time and future generations will preform "Grace" and "Canon in D" back to back.

Knowing the above fact I listened to U2 & Green Day's " the Saints are coming"

FACT 3a: People leave stuff in rooms, finding it is one of the joys of housekeeping.

FACT 3b: Pringles are my favorite chips (mainly for the reasons we never had them & you can make duck bills with them)

In I walked to a recently abandoned room and what should I find but a can of Pringles.

ENDING: So there I was in the hallway listening to "the Saints are coming" while eating Pringles.

FACT 4: Sometimes God sounds like Bono and looks like the Pringles man

The sky went crazy...

Some days the sky is like piece of music being played by a piano, some days a violin, some a flute, but today was a full fledged orchestra, everything from the string section to those big drums in the back you can barely hear, yet send a chill up your spine.

This morning started with doubts (see even I'm not perfect;) but as the sermon was being drawn to an end the doubts were silenced. After the sermon comes Sunday School (I go to one of the coolest Sunday school classes I'm half the age of most of them and one third the age of the rest) anyway we were talking about kids, some of the single moms were sharing how they want their kids to see healthy familys, and how much any kids just want to be loved, paid atntion to. By the end of Sunday School the doubts were not only silenced but joy and wanting to be used filled the silence.

The clouds are now all wind instruments, but tonight under the full moon there will be fiddle playing.

"Any man who takes up his cross and goes where he needs to go.( he needs to know) He will never come back, he will die."

A.W. Tozer

the cry

if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding,

and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, 

then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God 

Proverbs 2:3

March 17th

Happy St. Patrick Day!!!!

Remembering

One of the two memories I have of my cousin is standing on my tip toes in my cousins living room, I watch as my cousin showed me the doll house he had made. It was beautiful, three stories high, every room furnished. The best part was in the little bedroom the doll children had a doll house and inside that one, my cousin showed me was yet another house. Yesterday I was able to visit him and his family for the first time since that day fourteen years ago. They are so sweet and kind, their house was full of warmth and beauty. While his son showed me around I looked for the doll house from so long ago. As the clear afternoon light came through the living room, there was the dollhouse sitting contently in it's own nook.

Light

This evening the high school lead the evening serves. In the back there were unlit candles. They invited us (if we wanted to) to go in the back and pray, and just light a candle, we all know the prayers can get to God without a candle, but there is something beautiful about the glow.

Anyway... the glow reminded me of the All Saints Day. Growing up in a primarily Catholic country every All Saints Day the sky was aglow with candles on graves, placed there by their loved ones.

As the memory of the glowing skies came back, I thought how beautiful if we (the Church) shone like those candles on that cold November night.

Christmas

During Christmas break my cousin and I went to see a fairy tale Christmas, we thought the music room was breathtaking.

the weather on days like today is better when you are out in it- A.M.P.

Thank you God for grace,

thank you for laughter about litter on the freeway,

thank you for a calming spirit,

thank you for a cheering smile, 

for cookies, friends, for the rain & the family I came home to.

sun & rain

Rain falling like light from the sky,
Deep clouds that made me think of the sea.
I could hear the orchestra that plays while I'm asleep

wish...

A wish to go paper boat racing.


Prints of words they were, telling the world
Down the stream they float,
now boats on the icy water
Among the stillness we watched,
our breath white in the Autumn air.
To float them again...

tonight

Tonight we are going to watch "the Bourne Ultimatum" it should be exciting, I've already seen it, but tonight my mom will see it.

Warm in my nunnery...

It is raining fantasist rain out there.
I learned another verse to a song; I have the happy hope that heckles heathens down in the depths of my heart. (heckles? There must be a better word)
Learned how to turn my pocket handkerchief into a mouse.
Burnt my chess and ham sandwich (somethings never really change), drank sparkly cider out of "Tom and Jerry" glass.
Rearranged the mess of my room.
Thought about hope and endurance.
Read the first chapter of "Mere Christianity"

"Her Letter" by Bret Har

After much searching at last I found a long lost friend. Someday if you want me to I'll tell you why I like this poem, for now just enjoy.

I’M sitting alone by the fire,
Dressed just as I came from the dance,
In a robe even you would admire,—
It cost a cool thousand in France;
I’m be-diamonded out of all reason,
My hair is done up in a cue:
In short, sir, “the belle of the season”
Is wasting an hour upon you.

A dozen engagements I’ve broken;
I left in the midst of a set;
Likewise a proposal, half spoken,
That waits—on the stairs—for me yet.
They say he’ll be rich,—when he grows up,—
And then he adores me indeed;
And you, sir, are turning your nose up,
Three thousand miles off as you read.

“And how do I like my position?”
“And what do I think of New York?”
“And now, in my higher ambition,
With whom do I waltz, flirt, or talk?”
“And isn’t it nice to have riches,
And diamonds and silks, and all that?”
“And aren’t they a change to the ditches
And tunnels of Poverty Flat?”

Well, yes,—if you saw us out driving
Each day in the Park, four-in-hand,
If you saw poor dear mamma contriving
To look supernaturally grand,—
If you saw papa’s picture, as taken
By Brady, and tinted at that,
You’d never suspect he sold bacon
And flour at Poverty Flat.

And yet, just this moment, when sitting
In the glare of the grand chandelier,—
In the bustle and glitter befitting
The “finest soiree of the year,”—
In the mists of a gaze de Chambery,
And the hum of the smallest of talk,—
Somehow, Joe, I thought of the “Ferry,”
And the dance that we had on “The Fork;”

Of Harrison’s barn, with its muster
Of flags festooned over the wall;
Of the candles that shed their soft lustre
And tallow on head-dress and shawl;
Of the steps that we took to one fiddle,
Of the dress of my queer vis-a-vis;
And how I once went down the middle
With the man that shot Sandy McGee;

Of the moon that was quietly sleeping
On the hill, when the time came to go;
Of the few baby peaks that were peeping
From under their bedclothes of snow;
Of that ride—that to me was the rarest;
Of—the something you said at the gate.
Ah! Joe, then I wasn’t an heiress
To “the best-paying lead in the State.”

Well, well, it’s all past; yet it’s funny
To think, as I stood in the glare
Of fashion and beauty and money,
That I should be thinking, right there,
Of some one who breasted high water,
And swam the North Fork, and all that,
Just to dance with old Folinsbee’s daughter,
The Lily of Poverty Flat.

But goodness! what nonsense I’m writing!
(Mamma says my taste still is low),
Instead of my triumphs reciting,
I’m spooning on Joseph,—heigh-ho!
And I’m to be “finished” by travel,—
Whatever’s the meaning of that.
Oh, why did papa strike pay gravel
In drifting on Poverty Flat?

Good-night!—here’s the end of my paper;
Good-night!—if the longitude please,—
For maybe, while wasting my taper,
Your sun’s climbing over the trees.
But know, if you haven’t got riches,
And are poor, dearest Joe, and all that,
That my heart’s somewhere there in the ditches,
And you’ve struck it,—on Poverty Flat.

Library of Congress

Thanks to my other brother, I was able to find out the following, this was taken straight from their web sight

1. What is the Library of Congress?

The Library serves as the research arm of Congress and is recognized as the national library of the United States. Its collections comprise the world's most comprehensive record of human creativity and knowledge. Open to those above high school age without charge or special permission, it is the world's largest library and a great resource to scholars and researchers.

Does the Library have a copy of every book published in the United States?

No, but it does have more than 17 million books, as well as nearly 95 million maps, manuscripts, photographs, films, audio and video recordings, prints and drawings, and other special collections.