Winter Wonders for the Last Day of January - Pictorial Edition

I'm pretty sure the not-so-secret secret to living through a Canadian winter is the ability to embrace it.

In fact, it could be said that to the degree we find or make our own kind of winter joy, we will get through the long winter months in a correlatively better state of mind.

Getting outside is a big part of this.  I say this realizing that I am first and foremost a summer girl, and it's not natural for me to get myself out there when it's cold.

Even more so if the sun isn't shining.  

But I do it.  And I found a trick.  Regardless of the weather, it's amazing what I can see if I choose to focus my attention on the beautiful things.

The stunning.  The surprising.  The patterns and contrasts and random art of things.

The way the cold transforms landscapes.  How snow can paint a completely new pictures with hardly any colour at all.

Still.  All that is outside.

Making it cozy indoors is part of the trick to embracing winter too.

Candles and putting on a fire.  That will do it for me.  And reading.

That's right up there in winter activities for me.  Although admittedly not just for winter. [Heard a new phrase the other day.  Sorry I can't remember where.  But instead of book worm (which sounds a bit icky if you think about it) what about a book dragon?  Makes me feel warmer just saying it.]

Of course, I think the most important element of making it through the winter is each other.

And here I absolutely cannot post enough pictures to represent the beautiful souls God has brought into my life.  How amazing that in the long cold months of winter our hearts can keep each other warm.  I so need you.  Just sayin.'

Happy last day of January to you.

I know it's been hard without the sunshine.

Hang in.

Find your own kind of winter joy.

Embrace it, lean into it.

And let's huddle around each other, 

literally or figuratively, 

and see this winter through.

 

Leaving Things Alone Beautifully

Contrary to what I had always believed before, orchids are not needy.  They can't be, or they won't survive me.  In fact, with very little soil required, and a bit of water about once a week, it could be said that the more you leave them alone, the more they have to offer.

I've been told our kitchen counter by the big window is a very good place for them, so perhaps that's why I am graced with clusters of blooms over and again in the cycle.  But that's the thing.  You have to be willing to let them be nothing for long periods of time.  To leave them alone.  Let them be kind of blah for a while.

Don't tell them I said so, but without the blooms, I kind of think orchids aren't that much to look at.  Okay, the leaves are a healthy dark waxy green, but they're also rather large in proportion to the pot.  Still, at least they don't have the borderline-hideous look of the roots.  I half expect a hostile alien to creep out from under the bark one day.  

And it's all I have to look at, sometimes for months on end.  

So I wait.

And then, one happy day, a little stem-start appears, reaching upward.  Something good is on its way.  I take a stick and clip the stem to encourage good posture.  

And then I wait some more.  Maybe I adjust the clip after a few days, as the stem grows.  But mostly, I do nothing.  Just let it do its thing.

Right now I'm enjoying this cheery clutch.  Helps to brighten against the dull winter days sulking just on the other side of the glass.  And I remember that this bit of happy comes to me only because of a learned waiting.  Because of the plant's reputation to do something wonderful again after a period of what looks like gnarly nothing, and my willingness to leave it alone until the time is right.

I am a doer by nature.  Wired to take action, lay out plans, write up strategies, have check lists and goals and objectives.  I love to put my brain and heart and hands to a task and see things come about in ways that benefit the world in the little ways I've been allowed to contribute, always in the context of a community dedicated to those same passions.

I also think much good gets done by doers.  I believe there's a lot that's actually my responsibility, our responsibility, collectively, to take action on.  That when good people stand back and do nothing, something evil can and usually does come and fill up the spaces.

And.

I have also seen, in this life-journey of six plus decades, that there are also a whole lot of things that only happen because you leave them alone.  That sometimes you just need to let something be un-beautiful for a while, before it's beauty makes itself known to you - all by itself.  

Here I resist the temptation to make a list.  Because what those things are for me may be different than what they are for you.  There's often a nuanced discernment required for what needs our concerted effort and what needs us to take our hands off entirely.

But I will say that one huge clue for me is that when something is entirely out of my control, I'd best not try to take control.  That may sound obvious, but believe me I've tried more times than I want to admit.  It doesn't work.  It only frustrates all of us involved.  It most certainly does more harm than good.  

As if I could shout at the dormant plant, pull on the stem, or open the orchid buds prematurely.  

No! Hands off lady!

Leave that one alone!

And just let it be what it is for a while.  

Even if I think it's not so pretty.

Even when what we're talking about might just be me.

"He has made everything beautiful in its time.

He has also set eternity in the human heart;

yet no one can fathom what God has done

from beginning to the end.'

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Before All the Sunday Things

 

I'm awake too early on a Sunday morning, but in a good way.
Enjoying the quiet and feeling the gentle invitation to be still.

Soon the delight of all the Sunday things will begin. And this morning is especially fun because the Team that visited Hot Springs last November gets to tell our stories.

But right now I've made a cup of tea and have tucked myself back in bed to see what might come of the stillness.

For whatever reason a word comes to mind. "Imagine." And I sip on that for a bit, remembering something Paul wrote to inspire the Ephesians that has so often inspired me.

It's at the end of a prayer, so it has all the flourish of doxology.

"Now to him to is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen."
Ephesians 3:20

What a gift it is to be able to create scenarios that haven't happened yet. To dream, to desire, to innovate. To reach beyond today's realities into tomorrow's possibilities. I think this is one way we do indeed bear the image of God.

I hold the morning's stillness a little longer to imaginatively explore some possibilities I believe God has been presenting to me over these past months. Nothing that takes me away from all the good things I get to do in this era of my life, not at all. Maybe deeper, distilled, refined. I'm not sure. I have to think about it more, pray about it more, see where it goes. Imagine stuff. And let Him do more with it.

But not in a working sort of way, where I'm laying out strategies, or tasks and timelines. Not in this moment anyways. Right now, it's more of an enjoying-a-bonus-early-quiet-moment-letting-God-do-His-stuff sort of thing. A begin-still sort of thing.

Hope you can imagine good things for your Sunday.
If you gather anywhere to worship today, hope it's meaningful and reorienting.
And if you happen to be at Highview this morning, see you then.

Remembering Gary Nelson

 Your statutes are my heritage forever;

they are the joy of my heart.

My heart is set on keeping your decrees

to the very end.

Psalm 119:111-112

With a very keen sense of loss, I learned just yesterday of the passing of former President of Tyndale University and Seminary, Gary Nelson on Monday, January 22, 2024.

Like many of his students I imagine, this feels personal.  Despite the formal title of The Reverend Doctor Gary V. Nelson, a status his life achievements well deserved, most of us were invited to simply call him Gary, welcomed into the hospitality of his warmth, and wit, and genuine interest in others.

He was often seen just strolling through the hallways, always fully present with whomever stopped him to chat, myself included.  He seemed to know everyone's name.

The one credit I had with him called Gospel, Church and Culture, remains key in how I approach the relevant integration of my faith into the Canadian landscape.  

Any other time I had the privilege of hearing him speak or preach, he never failed to bring an honesty and realism to what it means to be a follower of Jesus in the ordinary, daily context of life.  

Although he had many heavy responsibilities, and was well sought after across the country, he graciously accepted offers to come speak to lesser known groups of Christian leaders and congregations, having a special affinity for the smaller church.  Highview benefitted from his teaching and presence when he came as a guest speaker a few years back.  Our people still quote him from time to time.

So this morning I am in that space of sadness and gratitude.  

It is an honour to have been influenced by the humility and grace of this intelligent teacher and leader.  

I will remember our conversations fondly.

Prayers for his wife, family and the Tyndale community, and all who will feel this loss.

Right-Sizing

Ken and I took in the Boat Show in Toronto on Monday afternoon.

We were there primarily to purchase a promised Christmas gift; a large and sturdy inflatable to drag behind the boat and fling screaming grandchildren around on the water for an afternoon.

We were able to find one at a reasonably discounted price. So after that we mostly just walked around and looked at boats of all sizes, and everything else that goes with boating.

Apparently fudge goes with boating. A LOT of fudge. But never mind.

Stationed around the very, very large halls of the Enercare Centre at Exhibition Place, were these oversized Muskoka chairs in various colours. For fun, I had Ken take my picture.

We would have tried to get a shot of both of us, but there weren't that many folks around at the time we were there. And also we were failing miserably at getting selfies with the two of us. I'm not posting any of those shots. You're welcome.

But, hey, this one's not too bad. And then, with the size all out of proportion and it looking all silly like it does, I realize that's how I'm tempted to feel about a whole lot of things in life.

Things get out of proportion.

Perhaps a pathway to better mental health and spiritual wellness could be framed as a practice of right-sizing.

Right-sizing my problems with the faithfulness of the Father
Right-sizing my ego with the humility of Christ.
Right-sizing my responsibilities with the leading of the Spirit.

It's Wednesday. For me that typically means a string of meetings that will take me out of the house. It's a good rhythm for the week, actually. I LOVE working from home, and especially so in the winter. And enough meetings happen either here or over Zoom, to be sure. But it's also good to be up and out seeing folks face to face, nicely spaced in the middle of the week. It's a good fit.

Hope your day fits you well.
I will say, it's apparently a bit foggy and slippery out there, so if you do have to go anywhere, take care.

By the way. I did NOT buy any fudge, which, if you know me, is quite an accomplishment.

The Sky Though

This morning's sunrise.

Full disclosure though. Despite what might be a recurring landscape on my social media, I am not out doing my 'full' 4.5 km walk quite yet.

That trek takes me out into these wide open spaces where the wind chill is, well really chilly. Plus the sidewalks along the way are not always conducive to a steady, or even safe, stride. My winter-walking takes me into the sugar bush trail very close to our house, and I'm good with that. That stroll I do that most often during the day, so I don't really catch the sunrise, which happens way too late anyways.

So for now, from the window of the van, here it is. A glorious way to begin a day, I gotta' say.

I am thinking this morning of dear friends who are right now planning how they will mark the lives of beloveds who have recently left us, two of them from separate orbits of my life. And I'm thinking of others who are coming up to a one year marker of the same.

And the colour screams across the sky in defiance of the night that releases it. And the promise of a new day that can't be contained.

"My comfort in my suffering is this:
Your promise preserves my life."
Psalm 119

I'm still puttering about this psalm, the longest one, the one that gushes about the Word of God. And one thing is, the author clearly knew suffering. It's punctuated throughout the psalm, and always in context of how a reorientation to the promises of God and the good boundaries of obedience to it, bring hope and life and comfort and delight.

I wish all those things for my friends in the throes this morning. For all of us, really, since life can bring many sorts of sorrows.

I pray screaming colours of defiant hope to light the way,
and remind us all that goodness prevails.

Love from the Longest Psalm

 

This morning I woke up with a 'pull' to spend some meditative time in a renewed study of Psalm 119. It's the longest psalm, and with a whopping 176 verses, is the longest chapter in the Bible.

That, and a few other literary points of interests, do indeed help make sure we keep this (and all Scriptural texts) properly anchored to genre and context. And I've been digging around in the commentaries again, like the nerd that I am.

But what's coming to the surface in my first, bigger-picture read-throughs so far is how crazy emotional this psalm is.

Whoever wrote it - obviously brilliant judging from the acrostic layout, probably a well educated Levite priest - was no stuffy intellectual hiding away in a dusty ivy-league library. This guy was all-out gushing with passion for God's Word.

First off, that's what the psalm is about - Holy Scripture. Every Hebrew word possible is used to keep that focus; words translated into English as word, laws, statutes, precepts, ways, decrees, commands. Ironically, none of these words in English usually illicit affection. More, a sense of restriction or confinement.

Not for this guy.

"I walk about in freedom, for I have sought your precepts." Verse 45.

And then statement after evocative statement describing over-the-top, crazy-for-love, all-consuming-delight in pressing deeper and deeper into the ways God has communicated His redemptive-living vision for His people. His WORDS to us.

"I have hidden your word in my heart." verse 11
"I delight in your decrees." verse 16
"I reach out for your commands, which I love." verse 48
"Oh, how I love your law!" verse 97
"Your statutes are wonderful." verse 129
"Your commands give me delight." verse 143

And those are just a smattering. Over and over again, this emotional attachment to the Word of God is expressed. It's like he can't find enough ways to say it.

What a joy, and a solid uplifting in spirit it's been for me to read through Psalm 119 again. A great way to start a Friday morning, and end what's been a very good week.

I hear we're supposed to have two days in a row of sunshine this weekend! Wonder if there will be a special weather statement about that?

Happy Friday to you.
Hope your spirit is lifted by what brings you joy.
Have a great weekend, everyone!

Photo: Sunrise on frosted tree tops, from a walk last winter, when the sun actually did rise from time to time.

Meek Speak

Pondering this morning on the connection between meekness and feeling safe in someone's presence.

We all have those people - at least I hope we do - whose very essence of being draws us into a circle of peace.  When you're with them, you are convinced you are the most important person on the planet.  You realize you feel welcome and regarded, safe to be yourself in all the best ways they seem to bring out in you.  It's like Micah described in chapter 4 of his prophecy, when he paints the picture of ultimate peace with the phrase, "and no one will make them afraid."  (Verse 4...see "Micah and Micro Peace," December 12/23)

Meekness comes in to this because I was reminded of a rendering of one of the Beatitudes yesterday, and it connected things for me.  Matthew 5:5, as part of Jesus' Sermon on the Mount, reads most commonly in most translations as "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth." 

Like you, I imagine, the English word "meek" doesn't conjure up images of something I automatically want to aspire to.  But Eugene Peterson, who did an amazing thing when he carefully, bit by bit paraphrased the entire English Bible into everyday contemporary language, has a definition of meekness that intrigues me.

He writes, "You are blessed when you're content with just who you are - nothing more and nothing less.  That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought."  The Message Bible

Go with me on this.  Assuming this definition of meekness, what if that's why someone can make us feel so safe?  Because they are not engaged in any grappling for status and credibility themselves; because they don't need to compete with anyone or anything, including us as we sit with them, for attention or significance; because they know and understand themselves and carry in their spirit a deep contentment in that knowledge and understanding.  It would seem that they themselves are not afraid, not fear-driven, so in turn they can invite us into a spirit-led space free of any psychological struggle to simply be seen and heard.  They can offer this to us because they aren't struggling for that themselves, since they already own 'everything that can't be bought.'

Contrast that with being with someone who seems compelled to grab all the attention they can get, who takes up more than their fair share of the space in the room, who pushes agendas and manipulates environments so that their own talents and abilities, education and expertise can be showcased?  

Or, in a similar but opposite way, being with someone who uses too many words to over-explain with pre-emptive strikes and self-demeaning self-obsession, and any other hyphenations that still make it all about them.  Those who are not at all content with who they are.  

Either way, in the presence of such folks, we can quickly feel like there's no room for us at all.

I don't mean to set us up for doing some dime-store psychology on the annoying people in our lives, and pointing fingers and pasting labels at or on others.  My ponderings turn the attention inward.

How meek am I?

What if meekness was indeed the quality of being 'content with just who you are - nothing more and nothing less?'  How content am I, and what work might I need to allow inside of me, so that I don't bring my own struggle for status and credibility into my interactions with others?

And now another concept ponders in my brain:  Re-anchoring.  But, not today.

Oh this journey!  I love/hate this about the whole spiritual formation thing.  It never ends.  The Spirit is always pulling back another curtain, inviting me into the next space of becoming.  

And so for this Thursday, I hope you find good spaces of your own.

Spaces to become more content with the amazing creature you are.

Spaces to offer others some safety in this crazy world of ours.

The Delicate Things

Today I am I wondering why I put so much stock into strengthening and emboldening and fortifying everything -- especially maybe the image I want to project about all of that -- when God seems fascinated with the delicate things.

Snowflakes for one.  Just look at them.  Every single one the most fragile of crystals, each one unique, but all arranged in an orderly hexagonal ring.  Who knew math could be so pretty?   

I won't risk copyright infringements by posting real pictures, but if you've got a few minutes and you need your mind blown, just type in 'pictures of snowflakes' and sit and marvel for a while.  Over and over again.  Every snowflake different.  Every pattern a masterpiece.

And so very fragile.

Perhaps I'm feeling fragile right now.  A little.  Nothing to worry anyone about.  Just some things, big and small, are bugging me more than they usually do.   Feeling the frustrations more sharply.  Getting my feelings hurt more easily.  Reacting in the moment rather than offering a more careful response.  There's a lot of factors in play, and yes, I do believe the winter's lack of sunshine is one of them.  But it's more than that, and I'm dealing with those things, all of them, bit by bit.

But in the meantime I'm feeling delicate.  

And held.  

And that's why, this morning, I'm grateful for God's attention to detail.  For His love of the small things.  For His infinite patience with me.  For how gently He holds me while I calm down from all my flailing.

One of my favourites:

Zephaniah 3:17

The LORD your God is with you.

He will take great delight in you.

He will rejoice over you with singing.

He will quiet you with His love.

Feeling strong or delicate or both, 

whatever you're facing today, 

I hope you feel held.

Observing the Sun-Fast

 

Yesterday afternoon, working contently at my computer, I happened to glance over my right shoulder and out the window.

Gasp! What was all that bright goodness out there????

Sunshine!!!! Yes!!!!

I don't even think I finished the sentence I was writing. Like a wild thing, I scrambled to layer on the clothes and get myself out there before it disappeared.

I was not disappointed. Yes! I so need this!
These days I find every cell of my body,
every neuron in my brain,
every bit of cold O2 sucked into my lungs,
even my very soul,
is hungry, hungry, hungry for the sun.

Longings are good things I think.
They help us be grateful.
Guard against taking anything at all for granted.
Keep us humble.
Help us prioritize our lives.
Remind us of what's most important.
Remind us that we are not in charge.

And while a true fast is usually something we choose for ourselves, I've been trying to interact with these long dark days in a similar way. A sun-fast, if you will. Not on purpose, but with just as much to offer in terms of spiritual perspective and the opportunity to be formed more and more into the image of the Jesus I claim to follow.

On Sunday at Highview we sang:
I need You, Oh I need You.
Every hour I need You.
My one defense, my righteousness
O Lord how I need You."

Yes. Like I need the sunshine after days without.
Desperate.

"As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, my God."
Psalm 42:1

Desperate longings.

May I never fall into complacency, Lord!
I need You.

Wishing you vibrancy, and longing, and deeper things this Tuesday.

Courage Trying

 

Clearing off my desk a little this morning and came across this inspirational quote (unknown author).

It was carefully detached from the front of a graduation card I received, and tucked under my clear desk mat along with other pictures and vision statements and such that I collect there to encourage and inspire me.

"Courage to try" is what catches my attention this morning. I would agree with whoever penned this, that that's where it all begins.

Mondays are good for this. The start of a new work week. Maybe the beginnings of new ventures. Or even just simply the chance to square our shoulders and approach the tasks before us with a fresh start.

For some, great courage is needed indeed. I applaud you, am praying for you, and can't wait to hear the stories of how God did indeed cause 'all thing to work together for the good.'

For others the great courage is just in the little step that's needed to get started. Maybe just to shake off the pull of winter hibernation and 'git er done' today. Just to step out not even sure where the energy will come from. Praying for you too. Can't wait to hear those stories too.

Courage trying is full of potential!

Heading into a week that I'm hoping won't be quite so demanding as last week. Feeling that hibernation pull myself. It's plenty cold out there!

Happy Monday everyone.

"I'm Afraid I Must Recline"

One aspect of what I get to do as part of my responsibilities is to organize people around a big vision, goal or event.  Inherent in that is recruiting support and volunteers.  This means I'm often asking folks for their time and energy, encouraging belonging through participation, providing meaningful engagement for things bigger than ourselves.

I have no problem asking for this.  I believe strongly in the visions we collectively work towards.  There's goodness in helping people discover what they are capable of.  And I love watching the bonding between unlikely comrades when we all put ourselves to a common task.

So when people says 'yes' that's fantastic.

And, I fully respect it when people say 'no.'

Right now I am gathering Teams around a happy event at Highview known as our Haiti Dinner and Silent Auction.  You'll have to link over to Highview to Haiti for all the cool things that's all about.  But for now, let's just say that my inbox is full of the outgoings and ingoings of lining up the volunteers needed.

Yesterday I received a 'no' response from someone I won't name but who is giving me permission to tell the story.  In the email they said, "I'm afraid I must recline."  I checked, and yes they did mean to write 'decline.'

I know this person well.  I know they have a heart for others, and a heart for this cause in particular.  I know they think through the way they spend their energies carefully, and I'm totally fine with their 'no.'

AND.  

I think it's hilarious, and quite appropriate that there was this particular typo.  It speaks to a truth I want to live by.

Most of us, or is just me, in rsvp-ing 'no' to something, believe we have to be busy with something else before the 'no' is valid.  To say to someone that you won't be involved because you'll be home resting seems wrong somehow.  But what if the reason we aren't willing to participate is that we have assessed our capacity and simply want to be good stewards of our energies?  

What if the answer is expressed correctly, "I'm afraid I must recline?"

Of course we know that every 'yes' is actually a 'no' to something else anyways.  So what if the 'no' we're saying when we say 'yes' to something is a 'no' to healthy rest?  I can't speak for everyone who gathers volunteers, or in any other way asks for time and attention, but it is NEVER my intention to ask people to neglect self care.

Pause for the 'other side.'   Some folks do need to be 'lovingly encouraged' to 'get off their duffs' and get involved.  This is not about that.

This is about sincere and earnest people like my friend who has very truthfully told me that they are 'afraid I must recline.'

Yes!  You must.  Recline.  Rest.  Restore.  Be ready to be fully present to the other good things God has given in your life.  Some of them are things only you can do.  Be wise.  Be careful.  Kudos.  I applaud you.

There's sometimes a 'myth of scarcity' in play when we are trying to gather resources, people, and energies for the good thing God want us to be doing.  As if we were somehow competing for the very little there is to go around.  But the truth is, God is so much more than sufficient.  I don't have to panic if someone says 'no.'  Because if it's God's thing, He'll bring the people together to get it done.  

Ironically, I just said 'no' to something today myself; something I believe in, something I have loved to do in the past, but I know that the timing of it, the commitment of it over this winter/spring, will not be a 'yes' to other energies I will be needing for some important changes coming for Ken and I.  

And in between the events and the changes, in the midst of other 'yeses', there are times when it's true for me too.  

Quite true, this typo.  

I'm afraid I must recline.  

Likely with a cup of tea.  

Stay safe with whatever storm is on the way friends.

Maybe the bad weather will all help us stay home and 'recline' at little better.

  

Glad Cities

"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy place where the Most High dwells."
Psalm 46:4

There's a storm coming and I can't help mentioning it.

Not sure when this thing in me started, maybe way back when I was a kid, but the anticipation of a major snow storm always brings me a bit more glee than I care to admit.

True, I am loathe to drive in it, and my glee is directly proportionate to what my 'out' plans are for the day the snow is supposed to arrive. In this case, I have nothing I need to get in a car for after a breakfast meeting on Friday morning. And a drive-to meeting for Saturday was just changed to an online meeting.

Now my happy can kick in fully.

Thanks to the wonders of modern meteorology, there's time enough between now and Friday night to do that quick stock up of groceries, run an outstanding errand or two, and bring in more firewood. Then it's fill up the kettle, hunker on down, and bring on the snow!

Yes. I hear some of you reminding me that often as not the accumulations are much less than predicted, and sometimes the storm fizzles out entirely before it even reaches us. Or the wind blows in an unexpected direction and we get bypassed altogether.

Yes, I hear all of those who don't care for shoveling, in the snow events when it DOES pile up.

And I think another needed caveat it that there are loads of folks, truck drivers and hospital staff and other essential workers who don't get to hunker down and stay safe. And I wish them Godspeed in all their journeys and strength for all they do.

So, yes, I acknowledge all of that.

But there's still a little girl inside of me who's all excited to see what happens this Friday night and Saturday morning.

It's been a fairly demanding week so far, as I expected for this ramping-up-into-January timeframe. And I'm still bumping up against the seasonal dullness that's overtaken our skies for days on end. I'm tired and it's only Thursday.

So maybe part of this is how a snow storm holds me still for a bit.
Holds me still in the midst of the wildness of it.

"Be still
and know that I am God."
Psalm 46:10

In context, that well-known verse is about God being at work in the midst of the uproar. It's about His workings to end war and violence and bring about the time when a river (representing life to the full) will make the city of God (His ultimate place of dwelling for His people)...He will make it 'glad'.

That's me right now. Glad to be in the midst of anything as long as God is holding me.

Stay cozy friends!
We'll see what the weekend brings.

Brighter Corners

 

The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness cannot overcome it.
John 1:5

Saturday was 'take down Christmas' day at our house. It was a very good day, as far as getting things done. Ken and I worked well as a team for the 'big job,' got it all done and put away, and even snuck in a few other errands. By the end of it, I was very satisfied with what got checked off the list.

But when we sat down to enjoy a movie in the evening, I suddenly realized I was feeling a bit sad.

The corner where the Christmas tree had been/always goes, was particularly dark and cheerless.

This happens every year, of course. That post-Christmas 'empty and boring' look that unfortunately coincides with 'we still need some winter joy'. But this particular season, with how prolonged the lack of sunshine has been, as in days and day in a row, I think I'm feeling it more. Trying not to gripe about it, but....I sure am leaning towards the dreary right now.

So I decided on Sunday that I would try something I've never done before, at least in the family room; leave that corner lighted.

The built in bookshelves needed some attention now that the tree was gone. So I took everything off, dusted and cleaned, did a touch up with just a little bit of paint, and rearranged a few things. Then I wrapped a string of lights around the outside. The little shelf beside was cleared off for some votives.

Yes! So much warmer, brighter, cheerier. There's not enough light for reading, but an extra lamp is there if needed. For most of the time, however, this will do quite nicely. Not sure if it fits with any trendy decor whatsoever, but I don't actually care. It's helping chase away some of this January blah for me.

Because really, far beyond decorating or environ-mental health ideas, this and any other dark corner redeemed by the light reminds me of deeper truths. Repeatedly in Scripture I am reminded how light overcomes darkness. That there is a bright Son of righteousness, fulfilling His plans and purposes, even when maybe all I see are the clouds.

Okay. Good thoughts to move me into Monday and what's looking like a very full week ahead. Holidays are really over now. Time to go be shiny.

Have a bright week, friends.

The Abundance of the Everythings

 

Just a few pics from our 'double sleepover' this week.

And it makes me realize just how much of my life is made up of such powerful contrasts! Depends on where I am on the planet and what any given week brings. For these past few days it was happy chaos of grandkids ranging in age from 3 to 17, and all the noise and mess and energy in that package.

This morning I wake up to a Friday that has me lighting candles, and hunkering down at my desk, head down into some concentrated writing, and answering emails from the rest of the world who did not extend Christmas holidays into this week.

Tomorrow another contrast, in that we will be 'putting away' Christmas, and the place will look rather empty, especially the corner where we put the Christmas tree. Never mind. I always leave up anything that's just about snowpersons, well into February. And the lights. Yes, let's not put the lights away just yet.

In all of this, all of these rather significant contrasts of family life and ministry life and even what the house looks and feels like, it strikes me that it brings it's own kind of energy and joy. All the ebbs and flows, the regularity of seasons, the freshness of something different for a while. The backs and forths of all the everythings.

Life is certainly not boring, that's for sure.

"I have come," Jesus said, "that they might have life, and have it to the full." (John 10:10)

Happy Friday folks.
Hope there's something fresh in it for you.

[Note about the pictures for anyone who's counting: Ratio of photos between young and older offspring is directly related to onset of adolescence. Just sayin'.]