Sunday

I {LOVE} Sunday::to press on to know...


Let us know; let us press on to know the LORD;
his going out is sure as the dawn;
he will come to us as the showers,
as the spring rains that water the earth.”


Hosea 6:3

{With the Sunday Community at Lisha's #GiveMeGrace }

Saturday

Still Saturday::quiet corners...


And there, in the quiet corner of your day, God finds you. There he wraps you in his whispers: "Blessed are you...blessed are you." 
Willard, Timothy (2014-10-14). Longing for More: Daily Reflections on Finding God in the Rhythms of Life (p. 22-23). Baker Publishing Group. 

Sandra Heska King - Still Saturday

Sunday

I {LOVE} Sunday::to be planted and flourish...



The righteous flourish like the palm tree
and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.
They are planted in the house of the LORD;
they flourish in the courts of our God.
They still bear fruit in old age;
they are ever full of sap and green,
to declare that the LORD is upright;
he is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in him.

Psalm 92:12-15 ESV

{With the Sunday Community at Lisha's #GiveMeGrace }

Saturday

Still Saturday::to invite mystery...


What does beauty show us? To C. S. Lewis, beauty pointed to another place. "The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust them," writes Lewis, "it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing." 
Our poetry and photographs, our music and films, stir us with a beauty we struggle to communicate— mystery. "They are not the thing itself, ' Lewis continues. "They are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.”  
By pursuing the beautiful in life, we invite mystery. God makes himself known in all creation, and yet the more time I spend planting flowers with my daughters, for example, the more I find his character revealed; not only in the visual beauty of the flowers themselves, but in how they bring me and the girls together and the life principles we learn from planting and growing. We discover the mystery of life and trace it to a God who cares enough about his children to reveal himself in the glory of pansies and black-eyed Susans.  
Willard, Timothy (2014-10-14). Longing for More: Daily Reflections on Finding God in the Rhythms of Life (p. 113). Baker Publishing Group. 

Sandra Heska King - Still Saturday

Wednesday

I can guess what you're thinking...


















It was delightfully (and surprisingly) cool a week or so ago, and though my time was generally consumed with events surrounding my daughter's college graduation, I basked in as much of the turn-off-the-air-conditioning, open-the-windows, and linger-on-my-backyard-swing moments I could capture. 

And I can already guess what you're thinking.

After weeks, if not months, of finding little more than a photo here and there on the pages of Pollywog Creek, you'd think I'd have something more interesting than the weather to write about.

It's not that I'm not writing.

Late last year I resigned from the magazine writing I'd been working on for several years. My lifestyle no longer reflected the target audiences my articles were reaching, and I'd exhausted all I knew to say. When I received an offer to write for an upstart magazine that would both tap into my knowledge base and challenge my comfort zones by pushing me out of those areas of experience, I knew it was time to make a change, and I love it.

I treasure the online communities I'm part of and the relationships that have developed as a result, but my new assignments have taken me away from the computer and face-to-face with remarkable women whose stories I get to uncover in conversations over coffee or brunch. I get to be amazed as their stories unfold -- stories I'm trusted to retell in just so many words that never seem like enough. 

I'm also working (albeit slowly) on a series of children's books based on my archived and no longer available "Letters from Mimi's Backyard."

And I'm writing in places unfit for public consumption. I can't remember a time when I didn't process life in writing, and I have baskets of journals as evidence. The thought sometimes occurs to me -- usually at night when I'm trying to go to sleep -- that I probably should cull my journals and destroy those I'd rather no one ever discovers, because I can't reconcile scripture and the doctrine of Imago Dei with the popular sentiment that it's alright to tell your stories even if it hurts those who "behave badly."*

Since the beginning of her last semester in college, my daughter and I have been slowly making our way through Beth Moore's study on James, Mercy Triumphs. In her teaching on James 4.9-11, Beth addresses the proliferation of cynicism in our religious pop-culture that is expressed in how believers are so willing to publicly ridicule other believers -- especially in what we say and write online -- and it should turn our joy to gloom (vs 9).

There's a way to tell our stories without shaming others or being cynical, I believe -- a way that leaves wide spaces for grace and mercy to work in those who have hurt us and whose misbehavior has left scars on our souls. I can only imagine how I would feel if places I have failed to "behave better" (of which there are many) were written about on the pages of public journals, blogs, and social media platforms. 

So sometimes when weeks pass without anything more than a "Still Saturday" or "I Love Sunday" post, it's because I'm processing life more privately. 

*I edited this paragraph from when it was first posted after I realized I'd ventured too close to doing exactly what I was trying to avoid. Oh, the irony of it all. What does Proverbs say? When words are many, transgression is not lacking.