Get real.

Today I was doing some research.
My project was to write a monologue for the Christmas play about "going through the motions." I began my search on-line by looking for a blog because I assumed that would be a place where real people would share their thoughts and struggles on how mundane the ordinary can be at times. Instead, what I found was the author of every blog talking about how "those people" need to "do this" and "fix that." I didn't find one place where the author acknowledged that they currently struggled with it in any way. What is a blog for if you can't admit your failings? Why do they think we can heal themselves by pointing out how to fix everyone else's issues? I thought a blog was a place of being real.
Confess.
Discuss.
Fart.
Slam your finger in the door and tell the world your life is out of control.

Apparently it is also a soapbox with no burden of authenticity.

Front porch night

Sun light off...Porch light on
Another year has come and gone
On this day, I am never more aware of footsteps on my porch.
Stomp. Stomp. Ding. Dong.
Gimme candy. Sing a song.
Blue beards, green foreheads, and rumpled wrinkles greet me with toothless grins and eyeballs patched
Expressions of fear, exhuberance, and sorrow are matched
with varying ages,
and decomposed stages
Begging me for candy with crackled voices, pillow cases, and
suspect faces
Screaming in the distance!
Yet so much persistence...
Illegal fireworks, crisp leaves, running feet
jumping on my porch to meet
my very placid, skin-colored, normal face.
Still they come.
To meet the dead flowers still in pots
Two pumpkins with low watts
I scuttle to my door again
and scratch my brain
on no other night but this
For memories of my childhood call me to
reminisce.

Peace of Cake

I don't know about you, but at the core of my being, I long to please God.

This is more easily done than said
(It's awkward to say, feels selfish, demanding, spoiled.)
But it's true, nonetheless, for I love Him, and I want to know if He is pleased
with me...?

Something else lingers at the core of my being
It's confidence,
a quiet place of contentment,
where I know that I do please God.

For no sooner does the question leave my lips then I just know
He is smiling.
It has nothing to do with my actions, but everything to do with
who I am.
And who He is.
For I am His beloved. And He is mine.

Thus, my thoughts form a rippled reflection of the fruit of PEACE in my life...
a pocket-sized portion of its manifestation in my walk.

Sometimes Peace doesn't come until I quiet myself
But it is always there,
waiting for me.

Other times Peace weeps for me
as I struggle against its current,
fighting,
striving for it,
not realizing I am already
immersed
and would flow freely if I just
rest
trust
go

If Peace is a river, I am baptized in it.

Jesus said, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you.
I do not give to you as the world gives.
Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be
afraid."

But I fear what I do not
understand.
And when I stand at the edge of a
swiftly flowing river
it appears chaotic and scary
because I don't understand
the flow of the currents.

Once I begin to recognize that the
currents of Peace
are made up of distinct features…
pathways begin to open up in the middle of life's chaos.

The pathway
is not passive
Nor is it aggressive
It's deliberately
in between
conquering
anxiety and doubt
Always flowing
around the rocks
the currents
deep and shallow
fresh and foul
lie just beneath the surface
edges defined clearly
yet surging in season
spreading life
wherever it goes

"You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,

because he trusts in you."

Ps. 26:3

the History of Famous Inventions

Do you ever wonder who first discovered popcorn? I think about it all the time. In fact, I'm convinced it happened when a dirty, naked man in a bat cave threw his cob of corn into a fire and...POP! was followed by SCREAM! ...then...ahhhhh...melted butter and salt.

Just yesterday my daughter proudly proclaimed that I was an Inventor because I had just baked muffins out of nothing. While every mother longs to hear that she has been endowed with the honor of just having invented something profitable to the human race, it left no smirk of pride on my face. While it is true that a "Muffin Recipe" is merely a formality to which I owe no debt, I did not feel the same sense of accomplishment that she did. Where has my sense of awe gone?

So today, my friends, with a fresh squeeze of lime in my eye, I am taking back my awe.

Join me in support of a freshly composted Campaign for Apprehending your Imagination to Recognize the Inventor you have Wrongfully Brushed Aside.

I...Am an Inventor. Yesterday, I took some flour and agave syrup and berries, and made magic with them.

My daughter is an Inventor. Within hours proceeding my invention, she invented the first hand-stitched, twist-tie purse made of rags, string, and colored with markers. Brown on one side, yellow on the other...so that you can change it depending on your mood. (There is even a hole for getting rid of those pesky pennies nobody wants.)

My son is an Inventor. As I write this, he is in the midst of inventing another language. It doesn't matter if you are a pirate or knight or princess; you can understand this language. But if you're regular, plain, and boring as white bread...you will be stung with the blank stare of disbelief.

I have a Friend who is an Inventor. He sees me as I am, but also as I should be. With Him I am encouraged to be myself without being afraid of what that looks like and whether it fits in or not...He invented
Love
Fire
Mercy
Flying
Rain
...and popcorn kinda pales in comparison.

A little tweet

As I go out in the evenings to water my garden, I can almost taste the bitter dust of drought as I see the birds sitting on my fence posts, pining...
wishing they were brave enough to
drink.
shower.
swim.
If they had tongues, I'm sure they would pant.

I don't have a bird bath
but I have pity
And with this pity
and my hose
I have chased away
many birds

But tonight was different
...I wasn't thinking about birds as I watered.
Nor was I thinking about my garden.
Nor water
nor wind
nor evaporation
I wasn't even moving back and forth to cover the ground evenly.
I was just standing there.

Briefly I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and then there suddenly was a hummingbird bathing in the spray of my dormant hose

This time I held still
on Purpose.

I felt honored that the little dude picked my hose to have a shower under. But it didn't last long.

This reminds me of a dream I had about an orange bird that came to visit me on the patio one night.
We became friends.
It was not afraid of me, and I was not cautious.
As the night wore on, I became very aware that I could not keep this little orange bird.
It did not belong to me
and the moment was brief.
It was a temporary blessing,
a fleeting glimpse of the colliding of two very different worlds ...one in which I knew little about.

The hummingbird
is a symbol for accomplishing that which seems impossible.

Connected

There is an unexplainable
connection
when someone just
gets "it"
with little explanation

sees the picture
understands the concept
feels the emotion

like-minded
close-hearted
familiar-spirited

friend.

Then there are the times
and places
and situations
and people
in which
you need to
explain
strain
exclaim
retain
ascertain
and
sustain
the connection

It is not always easy
You are not always understood
Not always pure
Not always sure

But the lesson
is always
valuable.

Discovering Life

I'm happy.

I want to swim in a puddle, cuz it's impossible.
I want go on a hot walk.
That's when I walk on hot sand and burn my feet a little.
I want to sing while I am whistling.
Because somebody has to be first.
I want to spend more money on Time.
I want to go behind the scenes and bring my spirinoculars.
(That's a combination of seeing in the spirit and seeing with binoculars.)
I want to squirt you with my kids' water gun.
And run.
I want to play dress up with Perspective.
And design my own costume.
I want to scribble.
I want to push the rules a bit.
Nudge.
Bump.
See if it's a real rule.
See if it's God's rule.
Or man's rule.
Perhaps that's why my kids do it too.)