Puddle-Hunting

Today, we went puddle-hunting.

And the rain poured down.

Beautiful day.

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Day 3

How He ruthlessly perfects
Whom He royally elects;
How He hammers him and hurts him,
And with mighty blows converts him
Into shapes and forms of clay
Which only God can understand,
While his tortured heart is crying
And he lifts beseeching hands;

Yet God bends but never breaks
When man's good He undertakes;
How He uses whom He chooses,
And with mighty power infuses him,
With every act induces him to try His splendor out,
God knows what He's about.

Anonymous

The Mundane: The infection came back today. I've obviously written a lot about this, so I'll try to keep this entry short. I faced an empty house and filled the silence with words to God. Words intermingled with tears and laughter. It was one of those days when I just wanted to know why. And I didn't want to face the next few days and the inevitable pain that would come. But as I read portions from the Book of Common Prayer aloud, something akin to peace came to me. I'm not calm now, I'm still worried, still in pain, but I'm not as terrified as I was earlier today. It could only come from Him.

The Miraculous: Sanctification. Just think, this is all for His glory. God uses trials to bring us closer and closer to His image. I held glow-in-the-dark stars in my hand, a gift from a friend: perspective showing me just how small my troubles are. Who am I to complain? I'm not the first person to suffer nor the last. Christ suffered for us and conquered Death. And that's my hope, that through all of this, there is an answer to the 'why?' His glory. And I rest in that.

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Day 2

"Is there not glory enough in living the days given to us? You should know there is adventure in simply being among those we love and the things we love, and beauty too."

Lloyd Alexander, The Black Cauldron



The Mundane: Bread-making on a Tuesday afternoon. I shaped the loaves and let them set. Then I walked around with floured hands and talked to the parents of my Latin students. White flour smears contrasted my black apron with bright green and red chiles. An hour later, the loaves enter the oven. The smell of fresh bread fills the house. Warm, happy. Then the loaves are done. Voila! Fresh bread.

The Miraculous: I love watching the bread develop. The brown murky liquid of yeast and warm water turns into a light, pliable dough that delights in rising. Give it more time, oven heat, and then it becomes crunchy and light. The science behind a loaf of bread is simply amazing. But even more amazing is the gift of bread. It's one of those little things of life that lie forgotten. It's a gift from God, a gift we don't deserve.

Thank you God for our daily bread.

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Day 1

"Hide behind big words, or listen to a child's first laugh and know that this world is here, that you are in it, and that its flavors are deep and layered and its lights are bright. Know that its real."

ND Wilson, Notes from a Tilt-A-Whirl

"This is, most of all, a book about reconciliation - the balancing and twining of the mundane and the miraculous. We need both, after all."

Neil Gaiman, Introduction to Lud-In-The-Mist


The mundane and the miraculous. It's easy to see the mundane, but why I do I miss the miraculous so, so often? So, I started a project. The M&M Project. Mundane and the miraculous. I want to fill my days with wonder. See, smell, touch, taste, hear the beauty that envelopes life. Remember that the Gospel fills every moment and ask God for the grace to see it.

Day 1

The Mundane: My youngest brother walked across the street with me, holding my hand while we met our neighbor's new dog. He smiled and laughed with me, then ran across the street and locked me out of the house. It took me fifteen minutes to get back inside. So very mundane.

The Miraculous: His very life is a miracle. When he was younger, he had lots of health complications. He wore a helmet as a baby, and then a halo brace - six screws into his skull, holding it all in place after the doctors grafted bone into his C1 vertebrae. Then he had and survived Kawasaki disease. He has high-functioning autism and an undiagnosed mood-disorder. That makes life, well, definitely adventurous on our end. When he's yelling up and down the house, the last thing on my mind is what a miracle he is. But it should be the first. God gave me this hilarious, wonderful, awfully exasperating at times, fun little brother. He's here and... he's alive. His very life is a miracle, and I thank God for him.

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Faith My Eyes

So keep 'em coming these lines on the road
And keep me responsible be it a light or heavy load
And keep me guessing with these blessings in disguise

And I'll walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes.

(Faith My Eyes, Caedmon's Call)

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.

Unexpected, unmerited, a sharp piercing of eternity.

Joy.

That in existence without which the universe will fall and collapse (Madeleine L'Engle).

Joy.

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This Valentine's Day

Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the children of God.

1 John 3:1

It's Valentine's Day, and I feel like such a child. So small, so insignificant, and so unworthy of this great love that has been given unto me: the love of my Lord and Savior.

This isn't just a warm and fuzzy love. This Love defeated death itself.

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends."

John 15:9

We're His children, His friends, and even more than that, we the Church are called His bride.

And behold the Bridegroom cometh for His bride.




I can only marvel at this great truth. Dante's words and imagery fill my mind... and I hold hope. Joy. Wonder.

Love.

High phantasy lost power and here broke off;
Yet as a wheel moves smoothly, free from jars,
My will and my desire were turned by love,

The love that moves the sun and the other stars.

Dante, Paradiso, The Last Canto

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January

This post will not end up with the billion drafts sitting there, waiting to be posted. I will press the 'publish post' button. I will.

Hello, February. I wonder in my foolishness. What can you possibly have in store that January didn't already have?

January was travels by plane, car, and train. To to the cold of Northern California and then to the warmth of Hockley, TX. Beautiful times with the best friends I could ever ask for.

January was the hard realization that I would not to go back to ID. And the worst relapse ever, followed by the worst depression.

January was lightening storms and sunshine. Laughter and tears. Trouble and grace.

January was the strong reminder of my own weakness and pure idiot-ness. And an even stronger reminder of His power and grace.

And of course, I can't forget those days that don't really fall into the storms or sunshine category, the days that simply were.

That was January.

Now, there's a beautiful February ahead. February is fresh, a new month with no mistakes in it... yet. And come what may, I can rest in hope and this beautiful promise.



He giveth more grace.
James 4:6

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