Snap It: Proverbs 31 Online Bible Study Blog Hop

I waited patiently for the Lord,

he turned to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit,

out of the mud and mire;

He set my feet upon a rock,

and gave me a firm place to stand.

He put a new song in my mouth,

A hymn of praise to our God. 

(Psalm 40:2-3)

Psalm 40 is a favorite of mine. About a year ago, early in the morning, while all was quiet but the lapping of the sea, I memorized these words. He tended my heart through His beauty set before me. The water, the clouds, the brilliant sun. His glory, my joy. 

It amazes me that the God who tends to all the earth, and everything in it, is the same God who redeems my life from the pit, who sets my feet on solid ground. 

The pits of life will come, be it the ones we hastily dig ourselves, or the ones in which we are shoved. In the end, it doesn't really matter. There is mercy in the pit, and we aren't meant to live there. Pits of any kind give us the opportunity to remember Who we belong to, and to call out "Abba!" He will come, and lift us up, and give us solid ground to stand.

 For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” ¹⁶ The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷ and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. (Romans 8: 15-17)

 

Summer: It's Just the First Week

It's delicious, this time of year, when the whole summer is set before us. As I type, I have (officially) been on summer vacation for about a week.

I've already dipped my toes in the Atlantic with a handful of friends. I took the puppy to the river for her first swim, and met (from afar, but still too close for comfort) one of my least favorite woodland creatures. Isn't it bad enough that Copperheads are slithery and poisonous? And now they swim? Ridiculous.

I wrapped up my last art class with my 3rd-5th grade girls. I cannot express how much I liked working with this group of girls. They are fun, sweet, and talented. They jumped into every project with excitement, and encouraged one another the whole way through. I just enjoyed being with them.

The day after the class ended, I received a book The Mister gave to me at Christmas. The Charlie Harper Coloring Book of Birds had been on back order for 6 months, but it came just on time. I cannot wait to decide how I am going to work Harper's art into next years curriculum.

Yesterday I took The Girl and her friend to the pool and they asked if I would take their picture while they flipped there wet hair back. It only took 147 shots (give or take a 100) to catch the double-flip action, but it made for some great fun, and I got to sit pool side on a lovely morning snapping away with my camera. Win-win.

The Boy started his new job as a lifeguard at a Country Club in our neighborhood. Because I do not belong to that club, and sixteen year old boys tend to frown on their mothers visiting them at work to take pictures, I did what any logical mother would do: I went covert. Which means I convinced my husband to drive me around the backside of the club, so I could lug my big old camera and snap away like some international spy. It would have all gone as planned, except I didn't count on their being two life guards. Apparently, the second guard, located just on the other side of that chain-link fence (but whom I did not see) took notice of the crazy person snapping pictures from a car through the gate. I may, or may not, have freaked out the second life guard (so much for covert.) But I got the shot I was looking for, and when The Boy got home and said that his shift was great, "except for when some weird person was taking pictures through the gate." I shook my head and said, "Huh, that is a little crazy."

So it starts. The days when the calendar has a few beautiful blank spaces left to breathe. And I get the opportunity to enjoy my family, my friends, and my home. It's gonna be a good summer...

Valley Living (Blog Hop with Proverbs 31 Online Bible Study)

"I will set pines in the

wasteland,

the fir and the cypress

together,

so that the people may see and

know,

may consider and

understand,

that the hand of the Lord

has done this,

the Holy One of

Israel has created it."

~Isaiah 41:17-20

I grew up in the Tucson valley, a desert dweller from birth. On every side of our dusty town stood stately mountains in shades of purple and blue. My heart favored the range to the north, with her familiar jagged peaks and her promise of green trees and cooler weather. In 30 minutes you could drive up her climbing road, leaving the prickly wasteland for the comfort of "real trees" on (what felt like) the top of the world. The scripture above reminds me of the desert, and the respite in the mountains for those who live in the valley.

Living as a desert dweller in the valley wasn't difficult. But it was sometimes hard. After all, there is the heat, and the thorns, and the slithery animals.  Seasons don't change with significant signs of showy bloom or vast changes in temperature. Occasionally the winds blow storms in, covering everything in dust, while prayers for rain are whispered.

As far as the calendar is concerned there are four seasons, but in the desert, seasonal variant is not a pendulum given to sway. It's range, in temperature and color, is subtle at best. The desert valley has a beauty of it's own, but you mustn't look too closely, lest you get poked. So, when I was young, I would look to the mountains and pine away, for a life lived on mountain tops.

And so it is spiritually, when I find myself in a season of dryness; when the work is tough and dry winds make vision fuzzy. 

King David, long before he wore a crown, tended sheep in a valley. He toiled and cared, and waited on the Lord. He had brothers who thought him too small, and his work not important.Yet, with his eyes on the Lord, he did what he was called to do. And when the time came for him to fight a giant named Goliath, it was David's strength in the Lord that won.

The Bible is full of lessons in the valley. There is battle and beauty there-- a breeding ground for dependance on the Lord. It is Him alone who quenches our thirst when living in arid lands. When the day is long and the scenery the same; when unrelenting heat presses in and discouragement settles in like so much dust, we can remember our True Strength, and cling to Him. He is the same God who turned a Valley of Trouble to a door of hope.  He can do that with our valleys too.

Twenty years ago I moved from the desert, to a little yellow house set in the piney woods, but He's never called me out of the valley. I can visit the mountaintops for refreshment and rest, but my strength is born when I focus on Him in the battles and beauty of valley living. 

Psalm 121

I look up to the mountains;

    does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
    who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.

He won’t let you stumble,
    your Guardian God won’t fall asleep.
Not on your life! Israel’s
    Guardian will never doze or sleep.

 God’s your Guardian,
    right at your side to protect you—
Shielding you from sunstroke,
    sheltering you from moonstroke.

  God guards you from every evil,

    he guards your very life.
He guards you when you leave and when you return,
    he guards you now, he guards you always.

(MSG)

Coastal Getaway

We found a sleepy coastal town to spend one day and one night together. A celebration of nineteen years.

I do believe I could walk with him all day. Especially near water on a sunny day. He is in his element when he's walking outside. Walking near water was the goal of our trip. Eating occasionally was important too. 

He patiently waited as I snapped pictures. He shared my excitement over birds on the water and turtles on land (though I'm pretty sure he's seen them before). We sipped Italian sodas (with real cream) and wondered why we hadn't done this sooner? 

We admired the color of boats. I favored the colorful ones… he, the ones built for power.

We talked about trees that thrive in brackish water. And how it is that our children are suddenly so grown. 

He ran up a green hill with me when my curiosity could no longer be held. I had to know what lay behind that stately white gate.  

He bought me coffee, and ice cream… my love language for sure. 

The house where we stayed was over a 100 years old, and we wondered what lives had been lived there. We laid in the early morning light of a lovely yellow room, content to wake up without an alarm. He didn't even laugh at me as I tried to figure out the crochet pattern of the canopy over the bed. {I think I figured it out!} :)

We celebrated nineteen years by just enjoying each others company. We cannot wait to do it again.

The Gift of an Ordinary Week

This week I was given ordinary gifts that made my heart full of gratitude: early morning kitchen floor fellowship with the kids and the dogs; helping The Boy order a corsage; weeping with a friend over not-so-great news; a play date with an adorable baby (and his awesome mama); crying and laughing late at night with friends; enjoying the sudden, and lovely, coming of spring; Rosie the puppy, and her big funny ears; cleaning the barn with The Girl while the rain fell outside; seeing Mandisa in concert… and meeting her too; receiving good news from the dentist; learning about Maypop flowers from my art students (and watching them teach each other how to make them out of paper); praying in fear when the kids left in the minivan for Starbucks on Friday afternoon… a sibling celebration of freedom, a mother's daily lesson in trust; wrapping up peaceful gratitude when they came back home; finding happy selfies on every camera in the house. 

These teenage years are full of so many good things… and so much letting go. My prayer life is growing and i'm trying to learn how to wear Peace at all times. I fail more than I succeed. The learning curve is very wide. I'm grateful for that gift too. 

I'm grateful for a week of ordinary… the good, the not-so-good, and the mercy and grace that covers it all. 

For All These Things

For… 

early mornings with the camera, 

pink flowers, puffy gowns, 

bow ties, shiny shoes, 

laughter in the hallways.

For…

Japanese maples, 

dandelions in the sun, 

selfies (with photo mom-bombs), 

old dogs and new dogs, 

time in the Word.

For… 

friendships, and phone calls, 

riding horses with

spring in the air.

For… 

prayer, good books, 

marriage, 

for food and long walks. 

For… 

yellow pollen, 

happy children who paint,

and teenagers.

For…
the privilege to

be present in 

these moments.

For all these things, I am thankful.

Rosie

Ten days ago we rescued a little shepherd mix from the pound.

Rosie officially belongs to The Girl, who has pined for a puppy all her own for several years.

I recently read the poem below and laughed out loud. We are diligently working day, and night, on training. But, truly, I'm not quite sure who is training who?

All the same, we're smitten….

My Dog's My Boss by Robert William Service

Each day when it's anighing three
Old Dick looks at the clock,
Then proudly brings my stick to me
To mind me of our walk.
And in his doggy rapture he
Does everything but talk.

But since I lack his zip and zest
My old bones often tire;
And so I ventured to suggest
Today we hug the fire.
But with what wailing he expressed
The death of his desire!

He gazed at me with eyes of woe
As if to say: 'Old boy,
You mustn't lose your grip, you know,
Let us with laughing joy,
On heath and hill six miles or so
Our legs and lungs employ.'

And then his bark was stilled to a sigh
He flopped upon the floor;
But such a soft old mug am I
I threw awide the door;
So gaily, though the wind was high
We hiked across the moor.