A Sacred Haven

Celebrations abound across the nation this July day. 

Born in a country prominent and powerful through out the planet, 
vast in splendor geographically, culturally, and materially; 
there is a great abundance to celebrate.

After the star spangled patriotic parades and the grilled feast picnics followed by blazingly spectacular fireworks...  

at the heart of this day
is a deep abiding love of home, 
the nation we claim, 
as well as the literal roof over our heads.

The freedom we have to strive to be graced with walls within which we live with people most dear to us. 
The freedom we have to design our families and create our homes in diverse ways and places. 
The freedom we have to pursue work to build a nest to feather for our comfort, survival, and security.
The constitutional rights and legal protections that make our home a sacred haven.

By the grace of God,
by the courageous might of our 
service men and women,
by the unique ingenuity and contributions
of our diverse people for 241 years,
the freedoms of home remain precious to us all.

Christmas Gifts

Gifts counted, 
some small and quiet, 
others hard and tear stained. 

These few rise to the surface to share for your eyes too. Numbered past 1400 and even then I know hundreds were offered but escaped my inked list! Blessed, so blessed.

~ sharing cake, coffee, and faith blessed friendship in front of the Christmas tree

~ silver strands at greying temples, ribbons of tribute to long life

~ winter moonlight glitters silver on water's dark surface

~ Earth's global lights become a beacon in the universe

~ women's bonds and Bible searching in covenant relationship

~ crimson and indigo berries winter's suspended beauty, nature's chilled sustenance

~ hours  of quiet

~ women's charity that empowers independence


~ the wisps of dreams, bits of soul tales lingering into waking moments

~ memories of the silver cross suspended at mama's heart

~ voices, cards, posts sending faith filled Christmas joy

~ "Come thou font of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace; streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise." Nettleton

Merry Christmas!

November: An Invitation to Gratitude Series {Celebration in Gold}

Subtle hues and neutrals rest calmly in the rooms of our living.

Celebration merits a touch of gold to herald our gratitude.

The dinner table festive in glided pumpkins amid hydrangea past its season.

Around the house, dry arrangements in appreciation of stems gone to seed.

Gathered pinecones, some whitewashed for contrast.

In a few hours aromas will be heavy, candles will be lit, and heart felt prayers will rise.

May your Thanksgiving be blessed.

“From the Fulness of His grace we have all received one blessing after another.” 

John 1:16 

“Thanks is the highest form of thought 

and gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.”

C.K. Chesterton

*   *   *

Additional Posts in An Invitation to Gratitude Series:

Day 1 Attentive Listening

Day 2 Boundless love

Day 3 Time Away

Day 4 New Roads

Day 5 Legacy

Day 6 Indian Summer

Day 7 Transforming Power of Gratitude

Day 8 Home Fires

Day 9 Between Times

Day 10 Sacred Wait

Day 11 Celebration in Gold

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November: An Invitation to Gratitude {Sacred Waiting}

Photograph by Lisa Moreland

November: An Invitation to Thanksgiving {Sacred Waiting}

Cloudy November days, the ones that hint at rain and blow chilly against the window panes. Soft grey skies a stark contrast to the brilliance in the leaves that toss and tumble across the patio. 

Gazing out across the the woods, mind pondering the brief days left in November, musing on to Christmas. 

The thought arrives... of the young woman two millennia ago waiting, already. 
Many months she has already carried her child. 
Carried sacred knowledge silent in her heart through the passing of three seasons. 
Her whispered thanksgiving already keen for long, long months. 
Her Christmas already a living truth, a swollen heaviness, a beating heart, a mother's patient wait. 

Humbled. 
Grateful.

The trappings of my times fade in importance as I imagine her. 

Two millennia ago she continued the waiting 
with thanksgiving and silent hope. 

*   *   *

Listen to her story as it is sung in this stunning version of Hallelujah.

Additional Posts in An Invitation to Gratitude Series:

Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love
Day 3 Time Away
Day 4 New Roads
Day 5 Legacy
Day 6 Indian Summer
Day 7 Transforming Power of Gratitude

Day 8 Homefires
Day 9 Between Times

Linking with the Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for the Heart, and Tell His Story. 

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Click here to link with Share Your Cup Thursday.

November: An Invitation to gratitude {Between Times}

November: An Invitation to gratitude {Between Times}

Autumn hoovers gently as the early morning mist between the exuberance of summer and winter's crisply chilled grip.  Shade loving foliage spread wide, florals risk one last burst of blooms. Spear shaped Elm seeds and tiny Live Oak acorns cast wide for the sake of another generation.

Between times offer grace, holding a place for the promise to come.

Monarch's flit enroute for the tropics. Canadian Geese and pristinely elegant swans glide onto the ponds. Continuous flocks of song birds darken the sky, settling in unison to fill power lines and  treetops. Winged migratory guests taking a brief layover, build reserve until the morning they're gone.

Between times offer grace, holding a place for the promise to come.

Families gather goods for holiday seasons rapidly advancing on calendars. Households harvest the last cool weather produce from the garden, sweep the chimney, stack the wood pile, then walk lazily down leaf strewn paths. New life beats steady and ever so small, cradles deep in mother's precious darkness as a family prepares in patience, prays for the promise, waits in love. 

Between times offer grace, holding a place for the promise to come.

A world revolving on its ancient orbit, turning until it is made new. 
An ancient people humbled by resurrection, living in grace and abundance until the return.

Gratitude for the between times bursting with grace, 
holding a place for the promise to come.

*   *   *

Additional Posts in An Invitation to Gratitude Series:

Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love
Day 3 Time Away
Day 4 New Roads
Day 5 Legacy
Day 6 Indian Summer
Day 7 Transforming Power of Gratitude
Day 8 Homefires

Linking with the Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for the Heart, and Tell His Story. 

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November: An Invitation to Gratitude {Homefires}

Mom on her own during Dad's 1958 tour of duty in Korea.

November 11: An Invitation to Gratitude {Homefires}

“Keep the homefires burning” historically meant

women tasked with keeping the embers hot and the pot cooking until the men return.

Military families blow kisses and wave final good-byes.

Then, tears still falling, with all the strength they can muster,

gather up the children to return home 

to an all too quiet house, to a table with an empty place,

to the chair vacant of its usual lounger, 

to the bed missing the other half,

to the closet partially empty, 

to singlehandedly keep life going 

for long months or years.

They keep the heat on, the bills paid, the lawn mowed, the larder filled, food on the stove, give every bath and read books followed by bedtime prayers, every night. No one comes home at the end of the day, or on the weekend or the holidays, to offer a hand or a cherished word.

In my childhood a world map hung over the stereo in our home and we learned the geography of far east nations, the distant locals of our father and his fellow pilots and soldiers. 

Mom was a petite girl, a provincial small town girl of her era, yet as an officer’s wife she grew to become the gale force, the CEO and master organizer with steely strength born of necessity that singlehandedly kept six kids feed, clothed, carpooled, and motivated on their individual paths while maintaining a household, continuously writing letters overseas, all under the constant filmed coverage of war on the evening news. 

Extend gratitude to the nation’s military families. 

Our nation is protected from the creeping tide of war

by their loved ones,

and their lives are forever changed.

*   *   *

Additional Posts in An Invitation to Gratitude Series:

Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love
Day 3 Time Away
Day 4 New Roads
Day 5 Legacy
Day 6 Indian Summer
Day 7 Transforming Power of Gratitude

Linking with the Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for the Heart, and Tell His Story. 

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November: An Invitation to Gratitude Series {Indian Summer}

November 6: An Invitation to Gratitude {Indian Summer}

Indian summer bliss,

those brilliantly bright days of late fall, warm like melting butter on pancakes. Foliage rustles in rich color, breezes move with a gentle warmth. Folks linger on patios with their coffee, faces upturned to capture the sun’s last kiss of warmth before crisp temps return, forcing us all back behind windows to watch leaves spilling from the trees. 

In some regions its called a "little summer"; a brief nod to the mid-day warming reminiscent of a bygone season. Though the light and the scent is distinctly different; the lights angle lower, recognizable as fall, the herbed aroma of dried leaves inescapable.

Our area has basked in this "little summer" all week. Cafe patios overflow with business. Park playgrounds are bustling with post halloween super heroes and princesses going down the slide. Hopeful end of season fisherman cast lines across the ponds. Kids walk home from school with hoodies stuffed in backpacks. 

Its temporary, appreciated because its fleeting.

Raise your head from distractions. 

Neither of us wants to miss it.

Additional Posts in An Invitation to Gratitude Series:

Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love
Day 3 Time Away
Day 4 New Roads
Day 5 Legacy

Linking with the Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for the Heart, and Tell His Story. 

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November: An Invitation to Gratitude {Legacy}

November 5: An Invitation for Gratitude {Legacy}

Hearing mama call me using my first and middle name clearly communicated her serious intent, a matter of importance was forthcoming. Every child knows at such a time, the only response is haste and attention. 

The name, my name, came to me by way of Grandma Great,  a woman of faith and grace, so her legacy is told. Her name is recorded on the family tree, in the ninth generation of faithful people dating back to one of the Norway's early Bishops. 

Our name, Grandmother's and mine, is a derivative of "Elizabeth", meaning consecrated to God, or God is my oath. On the occasion of first learning this fact it simply made sense, being aware of an abiding presence of faith within my heart from an early age. It felt true. I claimed the legacy.

Knowing and honoring family heritage is not common for many, perhaps not even helpful for some. For myself, I have considered it a tremendous blessing, a source of heritage and strength gained from generations that formed my identity. 

Honor [esteem, value as precious] your father and your mother [and be respectful to them]—this is the first commandment with a promise— so that it may be well with you, and that you may have a long life on the earth.

Ephesians 6:2-3 (AMP)

Additional Posts in An Invitation to Gratitude Series:

Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love
Day 3 Time Away
Day 4 New Roads

Linking with the Weekend Whispers, Still Saturday, Coffee for the Heart, and Tell His Story. 

Click on the buttons below to join read posts by these communities of faith filled writers.

November: An Invitation to Gratitude {New Roads}

November 4: An Invitation to Gratitude {New Roads}

A canopy of trees arching across the road, captivating in every season, though reaching a pinnacle of beauty as the trees turn to their autumn splendor. As I approach it is not unlike entering a cathedral. The awe of such grandeur reaching heavenward, God's design of seasonal change accented in a bounty of color.

The road threading through the woods disappearing around a bend or over a hill, the destination unknown. Yet I would not have arrived to partake in the beauty overhead if I had not been willing to travel the unknown road that God offered.
Continuing the journey, this one, or any other that is charted on the geography of a life stretches knowledge of unknown worlds and unfamiliar people. 

In our faith we are taught to do just that. Travel far, at least in the heart. Expand ourselves beyond known places to embrace all that is within our reach to meet the measure of God's use of our talents and potential to extend His glory in the world. 

Grateful for the ever new roads that He guides me to explore.


Additional Posts in this Series:
Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love
Day 3 Time Away

November: An Invitation to Gratitude Series {Time Away}

November 3: 

Time away. Uncharted days intended for restoration. Extended sessions of simply watching the day open and close. Hours, when left unscheduled, become fertile ground for new conversations, thought filled impressions that birth new intentions. Seeking to hear God's whispers as waves roll.
                 

~

Additional Posts in this Series:
Day 1 Attentive Listening
Day 2 Boundless love

November: An Invitation to Gratitude {Love}

November 2: An Invitation to Gratitude Series

Little guys. A joy beyond words. Born this month five years ago. Twirling dervishes of exuberant life! Exploring, building, creating; engaging with the world at a runners pace. Appreciative of the boundless love that their lives have brought to mine, as well as, the reminders and insight their unrestrained living brings to my attention.
                                          ~

Additional Posts in this Series:
Day 1 Attentive Listening

November: An Invitation for Gratitude {Attentive Listening}

November 1: An Invitation for Gratitude Series

Early morning light rises to skim the ripples of wind blown streams. Grateful for practices of faith that draw us into quiet and attentive listening to Holy Spirit prompting as each day dawns.

*   *   *

Links to the full series of An Invitation to Gratitude:

Day 1 Attentive Listening

Day 2 Boundless love

Day 3 Time Away

Day 4 New Roads

Day 5 Legacy

Day 6 Indian Summer

Day 7 Transforming Power of Gratitude

Day 8 Home Fires

Day 9 Between Times

Day 10 Sacred Wait

Letters: Cherished Chronicles of Life

Letters were once thought to be precious and essential, even a gracious art form and a chronicle of history. Whole portions of a person’s day was devoted to composing letters following specific structures and social standards of the era; solicitous greetings, dutiful reports, careful revelations of opinion or sentiment, closing with respectful sincerity, highest regard, and the flourish of one’s name. For centuries, the world wide wrote letters.  

My parent’s were letter writers, cherished pages handwritten in unique, yet so familiar scripts. Ink fading. Thin paper in envelopes, both aging. Words received that are more valuable today than when they were initially retrieved from a mailbox so many years ago.

As our preschool grandsons began those earliest literacy routines of recognizing and writing their own names, I began to send them mail. As I had hoped, they soon anticipate mail delivery, asking if there was “any mail for me?”. I know their interest won’t last long. All manner of phones and tablets already have a place on their menu of communication tools and land mail will one day disappear from our lives. For now, they experience the pleasure of seeing their name on an envelope, breaking the seal to discover what news might be within, knowing this was lovingly prepared just for them.

Grateful today for…

~ parents who modeled literacy and valued the joy of story in every form.

~ long distance relationships nurtured by the tradition of letters.

~ the circumstances that provided literacy and education across our generations.

~ the bundles of ribbon tied letters, dated decades ago.

~ my nation’s provision of vast systems of communication.

~ the letters in the mail, for messages of greeting, news, and affection.

~ for Epistles signed, “Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.”

*   *   *   *

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Distant Summer Memories

Far northwest beaches are reached after walking through verdant Pacific rain forests of towering aged trees. Occasionally mottled light splinters through the dense shade; that, and the sound of the surf, hints at the coastal splendor at the forest’s edge. 

Emerging from dense green foliage, stepping out onto the wide expanse of beach, floods the mind with the grander of the shifting boundary between land and sea. In that place beaches are wide, as the tide recedes with distant expanses of shallow water. 

The ocean polished remains of fallen, nearly whole, tree trunks are beached along the shoreline. Grey, splintered, and pock marked after untold time adrift at the sea. Smaller remnants of driftwood cluster with grey-blue indigo shells at the tide line. Sea tinged winds against one’s face, beach combing in bare feet, navigating the rivulets of sand and salt water; the soul ’s delight.

I unwrapped the collection of driftwood and shells that we had gathered that summer so many years ago and began to arrange it in a way that we could enjoy it’s beauty once again. Holding each piece, lifted an abundance of memories of that time and place. The extravagant beauty of that region; the old, old forests along an expansive coastline; the cool, moisture rich air; and the milestone in our life that the place marked. Through the years we have spoken of that time, recalled the deep serenity of those days, counted the years since we were there. It is a prominent marker on our timeline of living. A treasure in the midsts of numbering our days. 

"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

Psalm 90:12

~  ~  ~

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Slower Steps {Learning to Take the Long Way Around}

Taking shorter steps, slower steps, allows the early morning breeze to be savored, its banking, soft approach is noticed, its reoccurring wisps of cooler threads do not escape attention and are a welcome surprise this deep into the August summer. Freedom to take the long-way-around offers the most shaded canopy branching wide, ladened with the season’s full foliage. 

Passing the homes along each block ...

I’m aware that they’re likely empty on a weekday morning, just as my own was during the years of scheduled and contracted productivity. Occupants are at their office, at their desks, on their computers, attending to agendas, checking off lists, collaborating, reaching for goals, gaining information, experience, livlihoods...globally, homes are empty and work is moving history along.

Still walking, slowly... 

I recall the physical pace of those productive years. From the moment of leaving bed in the predawn of each day, the work day steps were accumulated with only occasional interruption, until back at home, end of day dishes were done, bath and stories were done, and all needs for the next morning’s departure were collected at the door. Steps were rarely short and certainly not slow. On arrival to campus, those steps were purposefully taken in a circuitous route, calculated to complete efficiently as many tasks as possible along the way, often in the company of twenty or so young students and the coral-ing of their many steps.

Crossing the street to follow the shade and the bend of the tree lined curb…                                                                    I ponder the process that took place to step out of that pace of daily living, to mentally step back from the persistent multitasking drive that accomplishes a never ending magnitude of responsibilities in the finite hours of a day. It was a process of gradual recalibrating of the priorities of time that allowed the external race walker to convert to walker seeking internal peace. Intentionally, it has become acceptable to take shorter steps and move at a slower pace. Not because I’m incapable of that meteoric pace, but because the value of attention to the bounty of this world, the bounty of  this fleeting life, can only be captured when its not being raced past in a blur. 
                                                       * * *

Transitions take so many forms and all are challenging. What motivates you to engage in the process, to 'slow your steps' or 'take the long way around'?

Linking with TellHisStory and Weekend Brew. Enjoy the photos and thoughts of these fellow writers by clicking on the links below.

A Heart at Peace

“A heart at peace, 

gives life to the body.”

Proverbs 14:30

Warmer seasons come late, seeping in around winter’s greedy grasp. Leaves gingerly appear, testing the possibilities, braving winter’s many backward glances. 

The air is brisk or warm, brightly lit or misted and grey, but sampled no less, as human hearts yearn for an opportunity to be out in the newly unfolding world. 

Encourage the mind to cast out winter’s narrowed ponderings, to fling open verandas of new color, richer scents, and softer views. Human flesh, feathered birds, furred critters; all venture hopeful as temperatures slowly offer up hints of warmth. 

A walk along the pathways reveals scars of winter’s passing. Scars of cold are scratched into fencing and bark alike. The new season unfurls its green to cover such with foliage and distract the eye with vivd blooms. 

Willingly, I focus on the beauty, looking past the marred, the fallen, and the wounded; for the natural world redeemed by spring brings joy. 

And thus I am reminded, how God’s redeeming work over wounded souls also gives rise to the heart’s joy.

Posting with Liesha Epperstien and the community of GRACE writers. Join us!

Abundance

“Blessing has in it the power to increase.” 

As my eyes decoded left to right, those words rose from the page to be heeded by the heart. The heart leaned in close, the meaning so decidedly true. 

Yes, certainly it is as the writer intended in reference to God’s word in the128th Psalm. 

But then carried further, applied expansively, 

God’s blessings in all forms propagate to bring forward additional abundance. 

A revelation that is known only as one’s faith life grows deep roots nurtured by prayer, study, and a persistent vigilance for divine purpose. 

Think of it more simply: 

study extends your knowledge. 

Knowledge expands your faith. 

Faith transforms your perception. 

Perception heeds divine presence and provision 

which further affirms and emboldens your faith. 

The more you are aware of God at work, 

the more you will see God’s work. 

“Blessing has in it the power to increase.”

                              ~

As is my pleasure each weekend,
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