arrangements in progress
Moving home from Maine has been a stroke in this years painting. Blurred and quickly drawn. It’s been covered by so many busy strokes - like a scribble, layers and layers of projects and people and new jobs that the move mark is hidden. Almost forgotten about.
Is it hard for anyone else to believe Christmas is here again, and flying by faster than ever? I have a confession of having tunnel vision during this season. Completely focused on projects and work and things to get done to where making time to see the detail in the day is an item on my list, not necessarily a natural condition, but something I have to remind myself about, which I shouldn’t have to do.
Sometimes life gets crazy, no? And keeping busy is a way of numbing out, having a routine, something to do, a feeling of importance..or so our society thinks and demands daily. If you’re not busy, you’re not doing something important.
I’m learning that it’s rather if you’re not still, you’re not making use of your time here.
There has been many conversation of how we keep ourselves busy to try and fix what we feel is left undone or to fix our minds somewhere else, to avoid, or to prove, or to fill in the gaps. I’m starting to realize it’s the in-between spaces of those busy moments (which are becoming fewer and fewer) where the importance resides.
That word: fix. Oh does it make me want to hold my breath. It’s a word we constantly use when we hit bumps on our paths. How can we fix it, how can we fix ourselves, the situation, the people around us etc etc… “Fixing” has become one of man’s occupations. I think a lot of times we try so hard to “fix” - and in my eyes that means repair. But in life, I think it’s necessary to see how The Lord is bringing these situations to our tables, and make peace with how they teach and how they stretch us. To see what The Lord intends for it to be. And sometimes He truly does “fix” it. But never back to how it used to be. It’s always a little different because every year we grow The Lord grows with us. And changes us and changes situations. So to “fix” - I think, is to see His purpose. And we blind ourselves from that with comfort. The comfort of staying busy when we need the comfort of being still. Of knowing and trusting and seeking. The clatter of our business gets louder and louder in order to override the noise of our inner self. The world’s little addictions cannot nurture the heart’s deepest craving.
When we fill spaces with business we are rejecting ourselves. It’s time to stop searching for bridges and time to see the water we are treading through. Time to stop neglecting ourselves and time to start remembering who we are, beloved.
This demands true effort, true courage.
It’s a holiday of hustle, when it truthfully is a season of seeking. (John 14:27)
There is detail in December. Detail worth seeing.
note to self: there is still time to raise your eyes and step away from the painting and look at it as a whole. Each paint stroke makes the work complete. It may not be done yet, but taking a break from scribbling is the only way to observe how the masterpiece will turn out. And man, is The Lord making it beautiful.
"As long as we continue to live as if we are what we do, what we have, and what other people think about us, we will remain filled with judgments, opinions, evaluations, and condemnations. We will remain addicted to putting people and things in their "right" place." -Henri Nouwen
"For who am I? I know only that heel and toe, memory and metatarsal, I am everything that turns, all of a piece, unthinking, at the sound of my name. … Come unto me, you say. I, … all of me, unknowing and finally unknowable even to myself, turn. O Lord and lover, I come if I can to you down through the litter of any day, through sleeping and waking and eating and saying goodbye and going away and coming back again. Laboring and laden with endless histories heavy on my back."
|—||from Little Gidding|
Autumn. “we are in for a spell of perfect weather now, every day luminous, every night brimmed with stars.” - gladys jaber
A Wedding i was honored to photograph in Buxton, ME - find more about it here (!!!)
DO you want a house for your soul? Do you ask, “What is the purchase?” It is something less than proud human nature will like to give. It is without money and without price. Ah! you would like to pay a respectable rent! You would love to do something to win Christ? Then you cannot have the house, for it is “without price.” Will you take my Master’s house on a lease for all eternity, with nothing to pay for it, nothing but the ground-rent of loving and serving Him for ever? Will you take Jesus and “dwell in Him?” See, this house is furnished with all you want, it is filled with riches more than you will spend as long as you live. Here you can have intimate communion with Christ and feast on His love; here are tables well-stored with food for you to live on for ever; in it, when weary, you can find rest with Jesus; and from it you can look out and see heaven itself. Will you have the house? Ah! if you are houseless, you will say, “I should like to have the house; but may I have it?” Yes; there is the key—the key is, “Come to Jesus.” “But,” you say, “I am too shabby for such a house.” Never mind; there are garments inside. If you feel guilty and condemned, come; and though the house is too good for you, Christ will make you good enough for the house by-and-by. He will wash you and cleanse you, and you will yet be able to sing, “We dwell in Him.” Believer: thrice happy art thou to have such a dwelling-place! Greatly privileged thou art, for thou hast a “strong habitation” in which thou art ever safe. And “dwelling in Him,” thou hast not only a perfect and secure house, but an everlasting one. When this world shall have melted like a dream, our house shall live, and stand more imperishable than marble, more solid than granite, self-existent as God, for it is God Himself—”We dwell in Him.”
And you shall go forth again…You shall be my very own on the day that I cause you to be my special home. I shall spare you as a man, as compassion on his son who does the best he can.
|—||But For You Who Fear My Name, The Welcome Wagon|