Father's Day Flowers

Today is Father's Day. :)

Unfortunately, my father is several time zones away from me today, and I haven't been able to reach him on the phone, but I'm loving him anyway.

I'm particularly inspired to think of him and appreciate him because I'm sitting in my backyard.

I have made the claim before that my backyard is the best in the entire world.


...it may be a slightly schmaltzy statement, but I'll hold to it. All of the brickwork, the patio, the burm with the pond...that is entirely the work of my father's hands.


He is an unceasingly talented man who can make or fix just about anything.

The credit for the beautiful landscaping...that is the work of my mother's hands.


She should probably also receive credit for a portion of my love for the beautiful outdoors. There have been many afternoons when I've been beckoned outside to sit in the sunshine with her and enjoy the flowers. We certainly do.



Can you blame us though?

I took these pictures because I came home one day and was just floored by how beautiful it all was.

This beauty...

...this is the work of my Father's hands.

My Father in Heaven.



Pictures never do his masterpiece justice, but I hope that with these photos you can catch some small glimpse of that simple, beautiful work of His in nature which will forever fascinate me. When I have moments like this, moments where I am so forcefully, violently struck with the beauty of creation that I can scarcely function, I can't help but think that God does this just for me. I like to think that He has me (and you) in mind when He's crafting the intricate petals of the flowers, when He's letting the sun play off the sky in such a way that it creates such a brilliant blue that it can't be matched except by the vibrantly green rolling hills and fields that swoop up toward it.


It will never cease to inspire me.



My father on earth has worked so that I have the most wonderful best yard in the world in which I may contemplate the world that my Father in Heaven crafted just for me. (And you.)

Thank you, Dad.

Thank you, Lord.

Springshine

I have had a rather lovely time the last few days. They have included nothing particularly fascinating...in fact I've really only just risen, gone to work, and then had quiet evenings at home, but they've been so fulfilling. I spent a little time last night admiring the lake and a wonderfully interesting pink sky (yes, pink) with my grandmother.

Tonight....*sigh*...tonight I had my dinner outside, enjoyed the presence of a good friend, cozied myself in my hammock chair under the trees and did some writing. (Oh, how refreshing!) I finished the rough draft of a few poems, and then just did some journaling...which ended up as praying and...just thinking. It was amazing. Right now, I'm wrapping up my night after having fun chatting with some friends, listening to a mixed melody of the rain and "Wish You Were Here" by Starline Drive. Such peace.


I don't live a life that would ever be characterized by quiet...but I do have my quiet days.



Since they're rare, they're precious. I'm quite fond of them.


Have yourself a lovely evening.
And perhaps some coffee. :)





Psalm 131

O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty;
Nor do I involve myself in great matters,
Or in things too difficult for me.
Sure I have composed and quieted my soul,
Like a weaned child rests against its mother,
My soul is like a weaned child within me.
O Israel, hope in the LORD,
From this time forth and forever.

Sort of Sorting

If you haven't noticed, I decided to spruce things up around here a bit by visiting this site. Give it a go, Chels.

I've got a laundry list of things to do, including sorting through all of my belongings for our upcoming garage sale, cleaning and detailing three of our vehicles, preparing things for my friend to move in, running to town to apply for any jobs available, working out (but no laundry, interestingly enough)...all while dancing to the various and sundry different songs that will present themselves to me today.

Yes...that's how I function.




Despite my busy day, I'm here to sort some things out in my head. Or perhaps the sorting needs to go on in my heart...I guess it depends on your opinion of where my spirit makes its home. Regardless, here comes the sorting.

I am a Christian. If you're here and you're reading this and you don't know exactly what that means, allow me to explain. I believe in one God, a God that came to earth in the form of a man, Jesus Christ. I believe that Jesus lived a perfect (yes, wholly perfect) life in order that He could be the only person deserving the glory of God and Heaven, and that He sacrificed His perfect relationship with God the Father, taking on the sins of the entire world and sacrificing Himself. I believe that His sacrifice on the cross makes it possible for you and I to enter as those who are blameless into a relationship with God, and that belief in this is all that is required to spend eternity in Heaven.

There is really...SO much there that I could write on and on and on and on and on about...but for right now I'm going to focus on the fact that I have a relationship with God. A relationship. We are not friends on facebook, or in a campus society together, but nonetheless, He knows me. The thing with relationships is that I am forever inconsistent. I have shifted in "best friends" since I was a little girl. I'm not good about keeping up with my friends which are not directly in front of me. Neither am I very good about spending time daily focusing on the relationship which I have with the Lord.

This lack of attendance to my Savior leaves me frustrated and yearning. I am frustrated because I know things are not as they should be. I am yearning because I have knowledge of how things should be, I've been there, and having strayed from the point of contentedness in the Lord, I long to go back.

I long to once again come boldly before the throne of grace, knowing that I belong.
My spirit yearns to again be sensitive to the whispers of the Holy Spirit as they move the strings of my heart.
I love the Lord. I miss running to Him as my Father and best friend. It's been too long.



Far too long.

Cornfield Craziness

I live on a lake.

It's beautiful, serene, and juusst populated enough so that the happy cheers of those people that are tubing and knee boarding can be heard without getting too obnoxious. It provides for the most beautiful backdrop to an already picturesque backyard, and I won't even try to get into the benefits of that sunsetty time of day. I love (LOVE) living on a lake.

The thing about living on a lake is that cities don't generally spring up around small bodies of water, seeing as how they aren't consequential enough to provide any source of living like one of the Great Lakes would.

Therefore, I live on a lake...in the country.

This is a fact about which I am generally quite pleased. There have been a few periods of time in my life thus far when my abode rested within city limits, and I must say that I found it far from my liking. I'm all about enjoying the sights and sounds of nature. I'll take cornfields and forests over freeways and buildings pretty much any day.

(By the way, Dennis, I'll take them on without a shotgun. But thanks for your concern. ;))

However, a lack of metropolis is equal to a lack of accessible activity, and that is the very reason that I was at Wal-Mart at two in the morning last night, streaming bubbles through sky in order that some of the other late night shoppers could hack them to pieces while LARPing with their recently bought battle-axe and sword.

Yup. This summer can only get more interesting, I think.

And you know what, John? I did have a good time. You kind of stomped on my soul a little bit with your open mockery...but it's making me smile now. You made it into my blog. Ha.

I think I will keep dancing "to the beat of my own drum," thanks very much.

Peace and blessings.




Oh, by the way, get ready for the debut of some of my poetry. Oh yeah. I'm embracing the blog world.

Home Sweet...Where Am I?

So...I'm home for the summer.

Just home. In Michigan. Surrounded by cornfields, Amish people, and lakes.


Home.


There should be a great deal of nostalgic significance behind that word, or behind the fact that I'm here, but for some reason or another, I feel that something is lacking from my "home" experience. I can't quite wrap my head around why, but this past week has not felt like home. I feel as if I've lost home.

(Take a brief, unrelated pause with me while I contemplate the phrase "wrap my head around." Who came up with that? Considering it literally...man, it would be so painful. Anyway...)

There are a good many reasons why this summer will be different from others, potential explanations for my strangely twisted gut. For one thing, neither of my brothers will be filling the nest with me this summer; one of them will be working at a camp in Arizona, the other at a camp in Florida. The flow of our family banter is seriously affected by the loss of even one member, and thus the prospect of missing two of them for several months is a bit sad. This doesn't feel like a complete explanation for my feelings of loss, though.

Can I better explain my feelings? When I took the exit off of I-80 and drove into "my town," I expected to feel the flurry of excitement and comfort that generally greets me upon seeing the familiar street signs and businesses. I expected to want to shout and roll my windows down and take it all in. I expected to be pleased at the sight of home.
My expectations were...not fulfilled.

Instead of comfort I felt an agitated distress. Instead of familiarity I was struck with the impression that those streets and businesses were exactly like the streets and businesses of a thousand other towns. I recognized them, certainly, but they were no longer my own. Sturgis was just another town, it was no longer my town.

Why has this happened? I'm now feeling a bit lost. I want to be home, but I'm not sure where that is or what it consists of. Surely I'm not longing for Virginia...but maybe.

What?