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| A burgeoning expedition...
Day one...Can you guess what it is? I figured out how to successfully root geraniums. The secret? Use old aquarium water. Let the cutting dry for an hour or so after you clip it, and then put it in the water. It takes about a week. I've been trying to figure this cutting thing out all year. Note: the flower is not rooting. A flower will not root. Exhibit A: The factory. Tomorrow... I go to see my dear friend and her tiny perfect son. Eat Blue Bell ice cream, Read Cymbal Crashing Clouds, Cut my first ever bars of soap And job hunt like I am young and have my whole life ahead of me. It is going to be a momentously ordinary, totally perfect day. It's funny how grief ages a person. It's equally odd the way a little time and a lot of God can slough the years back off. I've felt old lately. As though I had made all of the decisions necessary to fully ruin my life. But today, at least, my bones were full of young.... And dude, Jars of Clay never gets old. I have decided to become a (wake up in the) morning person. I start tomorrow.
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| A lot of my life I spend waiting... for it to start for certain people As though living were a machine with specific future events, memories and experiences already crafted inside - And when circumstances lined up, those events and memories and experiences would be still there - ready And I could reach in, pull one out, and live it
The future a constant, comforting illusion...
For years I waited to take ceramics painting watch certain movies, take road trips, beach trips have parties, visit art walks, or festivals, or churches Until the stars would align, Attached to an idea I bound my dreams to people, Instead of diving in...
Waited to share the experience
It's stupid. I waited years of experiences away, waiting for a vague possibility... How I did I not see what was happening?
So no more It's me and Him. He is enough. And there will be others. Of course there will be others. life isn't something you have to sit around and wait for... It's already here... in front of you, alongside you, and where ever else He takes you.
Be who you are called to be. Grow where you are, Go where He tugs your heart to Learn what your heart longs to learn Be who He's made you to be... even if it looks - at first - a bit lonely
Be here. Be now.
I don't know if I am explaining myself well. Probably not. It's tricky.
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| Comforting to me are Smooth, pale planks of new soap, Curing in rows on racks Walnut canvas, primed, ready, waiting Chunks of beeswax, pieces of wood, Worn, hand sewn apron Window garden, lit candle Gleaming amber jars of lavender and rosemary and peppermint and patchouli Hot chai and honey Tight seam of new book Good poetry Thick dictionary Old friends
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| It has gotten to five-thirty in the morning somehow and I haven't slept yet. It's a blur.
Amy Carmichael wrote this. I found it shortly after I became a Christian, (the first time) when I was sixteen. It clung. Here.
"Love through me, Love of God; Make me like thy clear air Through which, unhindered, colors pass As though it were not there.
Powers of the love of God, Depths of the heart Divine, O love that faileth not, break forth, And flood this world of Thine"
It haunts me. I want to love like this. is my dearest, deepest prayer. Myself... like air... un-hindering and full of light
One of my friends used to remind me a lot, when I was feeling insecure about life or friendships in general, that people change. Relationships change. Thinking about it pretty much would tear the floor out from under me. I dreaded oncoming change. I obsessed. I equated change solely with loss.
Now, the hope of change is one of my most precious. Imagine the horror of being unable... stuck in your own failure, or confusion, or pain, or doubt.
Change is not a curse.
The ability to change is magnificent. It is a miracle. It is proof of Him. For one who hopes in Christ, change is the thing that happens to ashes to make them beautiful, the thing that turns mourning to joy, and returns the years that the locust has eaten... Reconciliation is change. Acceptance has a beginning, a moment of turning. His love in our hearts is a new thing...
Change us... It isn't the end.
"All said and done I stand alone Amongst remains of a life I should not own It takes all I am to believe In the mercy that covers me"
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| I regulary feel extremely old but so far I haven't been.
I haven't listened to this yet but my friends just recommended them on Facebook ...
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