Spring Eve

The smell of violets in the dew,
Wet leaves with sunlight shining through;
Rainbow stretched from oak to pine;
Robins on wet insects dine.

Squirrel is scolding, his nest is wet,
Little spring flowers a soaking did get;
Trees lifting their arms to the sky;
Spring breeze sings a lullaby.

The sun is setting, red-gold hue;
The pond is calm and darkest blue;
The woods are settling down to bed,
Daffodil nods her sleepy head.

Blue black night without a sound;
Night-owl keeps a watch around.
Forest fresh and animals free
May you thus forever be.

by Karen Nilson
(all rights reserved)

Possibilities--

A blank sheet of paper
a sharpened pencil
and me...


All sorts of wonderful possibilities
crop up

a poem
a story
a song

or an empty piece of paper.

(maybe I should make a paper airplane...)

My Abraham Moment

I'm a parent. I'm a Christian. I'm not Abraham. Yet it seems to me that God is asking me to lay my Isaac on the altar. The thought of it is exquisitely painful. And if I didn't already know the end of the story, I don't think I'd even be able to consider it. As a mother, I would walk though fire to protect each one of my children.


With Abraham I can say "God will provide the lamb." By faith Abraham was obedient to offer his Isaac and God did provide the lamb. By faith, I need to offer up my own Isaac, even while I expectantly seek the ram in the bushes.


But I'm not Abraham and perhaps the end of my story is not the same as the end of Abraham's story. God may yet require a fiery sacrifice, not the literal sacrificial fire of Abraham's day but a trial by fire. I know how Abraham's story ends and I trust that is how my story will end---it's just the part right before the ending that I'm unsure about.



Dutifully, yet a bit hesitantly, I purpose to release my Isaac in blind obedience and full faith. And obedience and faith are what God desires of me. God is God, whether a lamb is provided or not. My Isaac was His long before he was mine. And God loves him even more than I do.

Here I have built my altar--here I have placed my Isaac. I release my child...to a fiery trial or to the gracious appearance of the Lamb of God. This is my Abraham moment.

Bacon Factions

Bacon---people in my family have very strong feelings about it.





We have the "Everything Tastes Better With Bacon" faction, the "Bacon is Only For Breakfast" faction and the "Bacon Isn't Even Really Meat" faction.

There is one who thinks bacon wrapped meat is perfectly appropriate while another thinks bacon bits on Caesar Salad is a bit over the top.

And there is the one who considered adopting a vegetarian lifestyle until she realized that would mean no more BLT sandwiches, which is practically un-american. And this particular child is extremely patriotic.

One of my favorite things to do with bacon is to wrap it around bundles of fresh green beans, drizzle with olive oil and bake...which is indisputable evidence as to the faction I hold to.

Good Grief.

I wonder how many times I have thoughtlessly uttered that phrase without thinking about what it means...now I am thinking about it...isn't grief always bad? Is it ever good?

It's good grief if you are drawn closer to the loved ones that remain. It's bad grief if you find yourself withdrawing from them.

It's good grief if you can do the things that are needful, even when it is painful. It's bad grief if there seems to be no reason to go on.

It's good grief when you can gratefully (and maybe a bit fiercely) hug your children. It's bad grief when you get too easily upset and impatient with them.

It's good grief when the sight of a friend with a grandpa, new baby or sibling brings tears to your eyes and a lump to your throat. It's bad grief when that same sight brings envy and thoughts of "that should be me."

It's good grief when loneliness for your loved one brings not only tears but gratitude for the time you had. It's bad grief when missing that one brings bitter tears and questions of why your time together was so limited.

It's good grief if you are a bit more introspective and quieter than usual. It's bad grief if you cut yourself off from communicating with the ones who love you.

It's good grief when it serves to bring you closer to God. It's bad grief when you begin blaming Him.

There will be seasons of grief in this life...praying for the grace to choose good grief.

This Grief

I thought I knew "Grief," having spent some time with her in past years. But this is not the Grief I remember.

This Grief seems crueler, stronger, even vindictive. She pops up most unexpectedly--in a book, during a song, while I'm sorting laundry or running errands. She greets my silent tears with disdain.

This Grief seems larger than I remember her. Sometimes she looms so large she blocks out the sun and her shadow touches everything. And every thing that her shadow touches, it spoils. I fear I will never be able to hear that song, visit that place or smell the fragrance of those flowers again without her presence.

Wearily, I go through the motions of life. In the distance, there is another shadow-a shadow in the shape of a cross. And I know that all I can do is cling to the base of that cross. Under the cross, Grief cannot touch me because here is Grace---Grace that can erase and obliterate all the remorse and regrets and accusations that Grief can throw at me.

Some Things at the Great Salt Plains State Park

Part II of our Boy Scout Adventure

Some things we saw:

the glow of a lantern inside a tent
a great blue heron
a flock of pelicans on the river
several big raccoons who intended to ravage our campsite

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Some things we heard:

an owl
a group of noisy scouts--in the campsite across the swamp
the trickle of water in a little stream
birds chirping and pelicans quacking (if indeed pelicans quack)

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Some things we tasted:

quesadillas with rotel tomatoes
chai tea
red beans and rice (I didn't know they could taste that good!)
bacon, sausage and eggs

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Some things we smelled:

let's not go there

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Some things we said:

"What are you looking for with that metal detector?"
"Metal"

"The pelican, the pelican
Its beak can hold more than its belly-can."

"we ought to 'debrief' after this camp out"

"There's a spider in the bathroom!"
"Then go in the girls' bathroom..."
"That's where the spider is!"

"What are you writing?"
"You know my blog doesn't just write itself."

"The way you can tell if a person is a real minister is to quit paying him."

"Be quiet."

"Bacon is a thing of beauty."

"The really successful people aren't the people we put on pedestals."

~~~~and my favorite quote of the whole weekend~~~~

"Take the spoon out from under your arm, and come here and cook!"

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