Tuesday, March 31, 2015
As we approach Good Friday, humility overwhelms when I think about the awful torture, pain, suffering and death that Jesus took upon Himself, willingly, that we, I might have the opportunity to share in a banquet with Him, the Father and Holy Spirit.
We know that this doesn't end on Friday.
Sunday waits just beyond, with the promise and hope of a future - an eternal future - so bright and full of joy, we cannot imagine! So it is with insufficient gratitude that I offer a quiet prayer of thanksgiving, knowing that He hears me, and knows me, and still loves me in spite of who I am, or what I have done or will do...
Wednesday, March 25, 2015
While I really don't know about writing a book, the idea appeals to me. I really don't know if I have enough content to write an entire book, but I thought I would begin to write out some thoughts on different topics that relate to me and my life thus far. Thoughts on growing up, my faith, parenting, and creativity, just for starters.
I can't say for sure how often I will add to these thoughts, but my goal is to share once a week, even if it is just a few quick sentences. So next week we will begin. . .
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Is it possible to forget where home is, even though you know where you live?
It might be losing your place, or it might be losing your connection to a place.
I was trying to work on a canvas, and I had an idea: the house that memory built. It was going to be a mixed media piece, so I began laying out different papers and words to help the process.
I completed covering the canvas with papers, and then. . .
And then. . .
And then. . .
I drew a blank. I didn't know what to do next. I had been drawing on ideas from my memory, patterns that reminded me of my grandma's house, the wallpaper in her living room, or dining room. I had pieces of map from the state I grew up in, I had a solid start. But I didn't know what house to add to the painting. Do I add my Grandma's farm and the house I grew up in?
As I tried to determine what to do, I realized I have no connection to those places anymore. I haven't been home for a couple of years. Grandma has been gone even longer. Different happenings in the family created a break in my connection. I had to step away from the canvas for a time.
I still talk with my parents. That connection is fully intact. There is no issue there. But the physical location has lost its pull. I am living in a different state, but this doesn't feel like home either.
I have set that piece aside for a time. I think that I still have some processing to do, but I should process while I work on it. I think I need to push through that wall to see what is on the other side. There is the house that lives in my memory, and the house that my memory built, but there needs to be a home that lives where I am today, a house that holds my memories. That is the house I need to work on.