Sometimes the rain and the cold makes heroes of blankets and tea.
But the rest of the time it just makes you want Spring. Spring I am ready for you.
Category: <span>Life</span>
Perhaps we all hang on to some odd things from our childhood, I have a great appreciation for a musician my parents were in to (I’m not sure I actually enjoyed it when I was younger)- the youtube clip is a bit feral (fashion/glasses/context/filming/sound), so here are the lyrics. They are simple and true. Based on the last chapter of Hebrews.
Grace Be With You All
Remember to love one another
And do what is pleasing to Him
Be strengthened by grace
And worship in reverence and awe
The God of peaceAnd grace be with you all
And may the Great Shepherd of the sheep
Equip you with all things
For doing His will
And grace be with you allForget not the sufferings of Jesus
And bear the disgrace that He bore
Confessing His name, for Christ is the same
Yesterday, today and foreverAnd grace be with you all
And may the Great Shepherd of the sheep
Equip you with all things
For doing His will
And grace be with you allAnd grace be with you all
And may the Great Shepherd of the sheep
Equip you with good things
For doing His will
And grace be with you all
And grace be with you all
I have to confess that I did take this photo for the purposes of pinning it to Pinterest (of which I am heartly obsessed with) but isn’t it such a brilliant idea. Tea in a scientific beaker. Photo taken at the Firehouse, Ringwood. Sadly I had a weird reaction to the avocado (I think) in my breakfast and spent the rest of the day not feeling so dandy. But today is a new Saturday and this is a still a damn fine idea.
Post Facebook Lent.
oddly, now that I am ‘back to normal’ I have finally found a wee bit of headspace to think.
it is remarkable when you rediscover that ability. To think.
I did need the space. Lent. However the time was so full of other ‘must dos’ and now that is over and finally I can shuffle things around things to where they can be re-evaluated.
So I am shuffling. Somewhat slowly. Shuffling and re-evalutating.
Perhaps words will resurface to the top again?
Did I mention I got an iPad (1) for my birthday, it’s uber fun. Perhaps it is not helping me find space directly, but it is new and fun. Did I mention that it is fun? It’s really the most fun present I’ve ever received.
And the Enneagram email was a beast the other day:
As a One, you are part of the Frustration-Based Group. Ones are frustrated that the world is not more sensible and orderly. The antidote for your frustration is acceptance of reality. (Understanding the Enneagram, 318)
*These are thoughts post Soul Survivor, the monster that appears in the first act is holding a big long page of disclaimers, but truly – let’s pay attention to reality: I will just say what I think.
Act 1
And whomph, the tiredness monster fly past and knocks me over and I can only sit.
I hate performance poetry – it is obnoxious and turns lovely words into melodramatic harpies. Cruel perhaps, but this – thine – then is how I feel. Point in case? (art is subjective, yes? this is art that I don’t – although not exclusively dislike)
I dislike disconnect – although there is some kind of false safety in staying busy.
Service I understand somewhat better. Although understanding is not tangible without doing – perhaps service can only ever be understood at the present moment of the act?
Hype gives me hives.
Tea, words, solace is peace and there I find God. It is not as if loud, dancing joy is hype (not in the slightest), but to me it is foreign and that swell of soul makes itself known better through moment and surprise-in-quiet.
I fill my life with too much noise. I must relearn being still.
(I’m sorry if you like performance poetry)
…
Act 2
Perhaps life flickers as performance poetry? Expanding our experiences into deep-hollow words of longing. Expression that is not met. False conclusions that wrap things up neat and tidy like. Conclusions that are conclusions.
Where is our conclusion?
Our conclusion is still longing and interacting with those moments of awareness that God drops into our lives via somewhat delightful and sometimes disturbing means.
We are disrupted. Words stop following so nicely. We step out of time and lose pace.
It is in this mess of boring prose that we find truth.
And it’s conclusion is both in this prose and beyond it.
and the finish is