A Bright Day

Another lovely day in a week of them. It was a good week for puttering in the garden while my 1yo discovered dirt.

View from my kitchen window today. I love this place.













A new tulip

Death, a stranger and a friend

[I wrote this several weeks ago but found it hiding as a draft and decided to post it after a quick revision.]

Death is not a topic I've ever tried to write about. (Actually, come to think of it, there was that really bad story I wrote in ninth grade....) I am a novice at this subject. I have not had to experience much in the way of loved ones dying, and certainly nothing tragic in my own family. But it's on my mind lately for several reasons.

One, in another post last month I mentioned that I am glad we cannot stop death. That is still true, but wow, it is a complex sentiment. I felt badly after writing it as my mind turned to a mother who has had to experience (such a poor word, sorry I can't think of a more suitable one!) her infant son's illness and death, and then I thought of several other real people I know who have had tragic losses. Was I too callous in writing that I'm glad we do not control death? Maybe somewhat...to the degree I didn't explain where I was coming from, at least. Death is highly personal, and what I wrote had to do with death as a principle. It is central to my devotion to God that He be the sole One who controls when "all men are appointed to die." I love Him for this. I love His power and sovereignty. Yet I am sure it is hard to stand in the face of its harsh reality. War, cancer, poisoning, drowning, torture, mutilations, murder, suicide... these are tough paths and I am unfamiliar with them. Above all, losing a child must be an astoundingly wretched and enduring pain. I can only hope that in every case, mercy follows close behind.

Second, there is a type of death I am familiar with... it is "death to self." Death of ego. Death of expectations, of dreams. This is something I've once again experienced recently. I hate going through His refining process... up until the point I realize that's what it is. Sometimes it takes weeks or months of slogging through half-truths and complaints and resentments and delusions before I cry out to God to relinquish my load. And then I crumble. The truth rushes upon me, breaking down all the false arguments in my mind and spirit, weakening me, making me listen to that "still, small voice." And then I know I am in good hands. Broken, but better off broken. What I was holding out for, my rights, my expectations, my dreams... all become so much less in the significance of my humbled spirit in His sight, and the tenderness with which He speaks to me in the aftermath. I am more alive. There is direction for the contrite. Righteousness is the path He puts us on, but it is the opposite of self-righteousness. It is righteousness accompanied only by the death of self, and yes it is narrow, it has definitions and limits, but it is pure, and it goes ever onward toward greater things.

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit,
A broken and a contrite heart--
These, O God, You will not despise.
Psalm 51:17, A psalm of David

Most assuredly I say to you, unless a grain of wheat
falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone;
but if it dies, it produces much grain.
He who loves his life will lose it,
and he who hates his life in this world
will keep if for eternal life. --Jesus Christ
John 12:24-25

Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present,
but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields
the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those
who have been trained by it.
Hebrews 12:11

Finding the "spring" in her step

Just a quick post, with pics showing my one-year-old, who has been walking great since before Halloween (at 9 months old!), taking tentative steps outside as she made the acquaintance of grass for the first time. :)

Real life

Why does life have to be so hard, emotionally? Why can’t I just have fun for a l-o-n-g summery season? Not party-hearty fun, but real, deep-down, soul-stirring, satisfying fun, like at a picnic with dear friends… at the beach… for weeks… with beauty and peace and kindness and laughter and great food and long walks and rest, as much as you want of all the above? Is it just that I’m a melancholy or is this dilemma true for everyone? Do sanguines have more fun? Hey, I’m blonde and I’m asking that question! hehehe

I drove somewhere today and soaked in the sunshine, the newly-verdant grass, the popped daffodils…and I thought, here it is, the green season, the season of growth, so clearly evident in our surroundings but also as marked in the church calendar, and I just want the season to be about growth and only growth, about feeling happy, without all the work to do… without the weeds… but the weeds always come, those feelings and problems that rob us of happiness... and the prunings come, from the Great Vinedresser… for our good, but painful nonetheless…. We don’t ever get a true break for a whole season…. There’s always spiritual work to do, in dealing with our emotions, with relationships, with work, etc. I’m sorry to be depressing, just having a day….

Why is it that “If Mama Ain’t Happy, Ain’t Nobody Happy”? I’m thinking that could be viewed at least two ways, and I wonder which people mean more often: If Mama is a grump, everyone suffers because she’s suddenly a brute…. Or, if Mama is a grump, everyone including the papa is suddenly lost and unhappy because they look to her to be the family planner, the spiritual lamp, always joyful and patient, ready to offer a listening ear, a word of praise, an explanation, a band-aid, a hug, a bedtime story, a heartfelt talk, some homemade cookies…. Such a lot of expectations on just two shoulders. Just having a day….