KINGFISHER CROSSING

Convenience vs Risk

2012-02-06T12:00:00.001-08:00

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Convenience, or Risk?

Above are some intriguing landscapes. But wait – they weren’t taken with a camera. I made them with Terrragen, a terrain-generating computer program. Machine-made art. So clever. Software that’s so much fun to play with. However, there are machine-made arts that may seem helpful, even intriguing, but the after-results are not pleasant little landscapes.

“Facebook Is Using You” – that’s the title of an article by Lori Andrews, in The New York Times. The author says, “Facebook’s inventory consists of personal data – yours and mine… The magnitude of online information Facebook has about each of us for targeted marketing is stunning. In Europe, laws give people the right to know what data companies have about them, but that is not the case in the United States.”

Google, and countless other companies, sift through the data from e-mails, web-visits, and online searches. Then they sell ads targeted to individual interests. For example, if a user writes about, or searches for info about health, ads for medications and treatments appear on-screen.

But there’s a lot more at stake here than us getting bombarded with ads. According to Lori Andrews’ findings, the collected data may be used against people seeking child custody or criminal defense, allows government agents to find out what uses people make of social networks, agencies such as the IRS and the Immigration Service to look for evidence. Employers may reject interviewees based on data found online. An application for credit may be cancelled, not because of any personal history, but because of “aggregate data,” meaning a group of people with similar buying habits have been found unreliable as credit risks.

Andrews points out that data-aggregators may consider our searches out of curiosity or research as part of our own set of habits. “Because no laws regulate what types of data these aggregators can collect, they make their own rules,” writes Andrews.

There’s no question that the internet is a great and wonderful service. It’s changed the way we do business, affected our leisure time, and opened up a world of knowledge and interaction. But using the world wide web is also rupturing our right to privacy. How do we weigh the advantages of convenience against the risks of being stereotyped and tracked – spied on? Machines, deciding our future. Depersonalization. De-humanization? And all for the motive of more profits for certain companies. Do we really want our futures damaged by a few words taken out of context from a supposedly private e-mail? How do we combat the potential harm of machine-fortune-tellers broadcasting our “aggregate” fate?

For me, this issue calls for much contemplation – and prayer. How can I be as careful as possible? Is there a way to leave a low footprint on the web? And, will I, will we, know when it’s time to get off the net completely before “they”, whoever “they” may be, come after me, after you, after us?

A man from a persecuted nation once said something to the effect of -- “I’m willing to die for Jesus’ sake, but I’m not willing to die for my own stupidity of saying too much to the wrong people.”

I appeal to a higher power, Almighty God, the Lord of the Universe. May he give each of us the wisdom to know Him personally, and to “seek first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness.” Only thus may we engage in our “playdates with God,” our prayers, our respite from the buffeting from the world. Our refreshment and restoration – our present and our future – is in Him.

“Facebook Is Using You” –
http://www.nytimes.com/2012/02/05/opinion/sunday/facebook-is-using-you.html?pagewanted=2&ref=general&src=me

This post is also shared with "Seedlings in Stone"
and "The Wellspring"

The Terrain Generator

2012-01-22T20:12:00.000-08:00

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THE TERRAIN GENERATOR

I’ve been playing with the first steps of Terragen Classic*, a freebie computer graphics “terrain generator”. Fortunately, I don’t have to understand the program’s mathematical algorithms that mystically produce hills, valleys, skies, and waters. I only have to imagine viewing scenes through a camera lens -- with numbers and buttons which mimic camera height and angle, lighting, coloration, water effects, etc.

The first step generates an on-screen pattern. The pattern seems to bear no resemblance to what will become the finished rendering. But it’s actually an altitude map. Whites are hills; grays are middle grounds; darks (or blue, as shown here) are low ground. Arrows mark the camera position and the parts of the pattern -- the altitudes -- the “camera” will see.

Random patterns are generated at each session. Therefore it appears that an almost limitless number of different scenes could be rendered.

I used the same pattern for all the scenes shown here. Settings for camera height and angle are the same, but a few other settings have been changed to give different views. The land portions in these frames are all of gray rock (the default), only because I haven’t learned yet to use options such as grass, brown earth, snow, sunsets, tropical settings.)

Often I don’t understand the lights and darks, highs and lows, in the pattern of my life. From my limited perspective, I know (yes, even fear) my ongoing landscape will hold many surprises and strange encounters – and probably some faded colors or ugly lines. However, I like to allow my playing with Terragen to remind me that God is never surprised by what happens to me. He knows exactly how to refine me into the “true me” that he desires me to be.

He who created me in the first place, has not only created my pattern, but is capable of reading it, and continuing to write it in/on/through me.

“He who began a good work in you will see it through to completion…”

 http://www.planetside.co.uk/content/view/16/28/

This post is shared with L. L. Barkat, “Seedlings in Stone”
And Laura Boggess’ “The Wellspring.

"Anatomy"

2012-01-20T20:32:00.000-08:00

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This post is shared with
three from here & there
prompt: "anatomy"

Grief and Joy

2012-01-14T19:59:00.000-08:00

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(this is my response to a post by Ted Gossard, "Sadness and Grieving",

http://communityofjesus.wordpress.com/2012/01/14/sadness-and-grieving/ )

GRIEF AND JOY

I don’t know where people get the idea that Christians are to be joyful all the time -- or even that this is really possible. However, there’s a difference between being blissfully elated, and choosing to rejoice in the midst of trouble, just because God is mighty, and nothing is too difficult for him.

We are all made differently. Some people are so focused on themselves that they either can’t, or won’t, see that others are afraid or sad or grieving. Their whole world seems to revolve around their own need for attention. That isn’t good. Others of us are so sensitive we hurt too much and too often, both for ourselves and for others. But I would rather be a weeper identifying with the sufferings of God’s people, than a clod who didn’t, or wouldn’t CARE about anyone but “self”!

The Bible says God keeps our tears in a bottle. Also, “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.” So it isn’t “unChristian” to grieve. As we get older, many of us have “seen and heard too much”. Injustices, wars, selfishness, arrogance, pride, physical and mental and spiritual suffering. How could we not be affected enough to keep crying out to God for his mercy for us and for everyone?

Since I entered the world of blogging, I’ve been amazed at the number of people who describe their hurts and wounds. Some people have been through such horrendous experiences. How could we not mourn with them? Or identify with what they face? (Insofar as we’re able to grasp the emotions of their pain because we ourselves have hurt or grieved or suffered.)

When I hurt in any way, I want to cry out to God for help. While asking for his strength and help and mercy for me, I’m also trying to ask him to come to the assistance of everyone else who faces my kind of needs.

When I ache physically – that he might heal and touch and comfort and bless everyone with physical maladies.
When my energy is too low for bodily comfort – that he might strengthen and energize everyone who feels that way.
When I’ve lost sight of my hopes and dreams – that he may work out his dreams in me and in everyone else who has lost something precious.
When I’m confused, or broken-hearted – that he will bring clarity and comfort to all who need such ministries.

Joy, for me, is not a happy-go-lucky attitude. There is a sort of joy in ENDURANCE -- just having gotten through another day. Meanwhile, I need to ponder a heaven at the end of the road, where life will no longer be so tough. Where there will be no sorrow or pain or tears. It doesn’t come naturally to me to genuinely rejoice in the midst of deepest sorrows. I do, however, CHOOSE to attempt to be content in all things, trusting my Maker to lead me in his ways. That doesn’t mean my feelings always change to joyful thoughts. But yet will I ask him to enable me to praise him intention-ly, even when my feelings don’t line up.

“If you suffer with him, you shall reign with him.” In comfortable churches, I doubt if preachers preach on that text very often. (Though I imagine it’s a powerful theme in the persecuted church.) But it gives me hope that my joy doesn’t depend on having a naturally sunny outlook on life. But Jesus Christ is my joy.

How thankful I am that when we don’t know how to pray, when we don’t know how to feel “spiritual” (by our own definition) or emotionally joyful, that the Holy Spirit intercedes to the Father with groanings too deep for words. Thus, in my distress I participate in Christ’s sufferings – and hope in his resurrecting power. And even trouble or difficulty can become a place of worship and a way to turn more closely to Jesus Christ. I’m also thankful to consider that one day, “sorrow and mourning shall fade away.”

This post is linked to L. L. Barkat and Laura Boggess

Doodling to Restore My Spirit

2012-01-09T17:53:00.000-08:00

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Doodling to Restore My Spirit

Last week I read a book about getting past the excuses people used to keep from exercising their gifts of creativity. Unfortunately, it seemed to me the author was implying that following “her way” quite specifically, was the only, or at least the best, way to unstick any creative block. Some of her advice troubled me: Get up a half-hour earlier so there would be more time… Keep working so many minutes or hours even when not feeling inspired Focus on enlarging your activities… Take your responsibility for using creative gifts instead of letting fear or "self-talk" stop you… Only work on (and think about) one type of project, not diffuse your energies by trying to go in too many directions.

These suggestions left me in a desolate mood. They were so NOT ME! For they treated not using the creative gift as laziness, fear, or negative self-talk. But they didn’t take into account that one might have actual health problems, or commitments that couldn’t be broken, either of which would forestall long hours devoted to creative pursuits

And I AM an experimenter, not a highly-focused-on-one-thing person. Some of my most satisfying hours are spent thinking about a project in one area, while actually working on an activity in a very different genre. I even admit that I actually enjoy thinking about making art or writing stories, mulling over ideas and images in my head, far more than the actual labor of "carrying them through."

A blog post that came to my inbox, and also an essay in The Curator* about daydreaming and listening times being a valid part of the creative process -- restored my good spirits. So I made a choice to ignore what I perceived as threats (from the book’s “how-to’s”). Rather than pine over complicated projects that I didn’t have time and energy for, I celebrated the capability to sketch some quicky doodles with colored marking pens. Fine art, it wasn’t. But it satisfied my urge to create. The activity also gave me back my self-respect and restored my peace with God. Thank you, Lord, for the creative ways you enter our space to redeem us!

* http://www.curatormagazine.com/kendallruth/listening-past-a-writers-block

This post is shared with L. L. Barkat and Laura Boggess

Hope Makes Me Laugh

2012-01-03T12:04:00.001-08:00

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Note: My cat – Hope -- is a beautiful half-tailed Manx (with a very slight knob on the end of her stubby tail).

Hope Makes Me Laugh

Sometimes our daily life seems dreary, and oh-so-serious. We “labor and are heavy laden.” We don’t smile as often as we should. Often, we aren’t even aware that what we really need to chase away the heaviness, is a great, good laugh.

A tired day for me. Life feels overwhelming.
There’s a low footstool in the bathroom, covered by the folded bath-mat-rug.
Hope loves to follow me from room to room. She suddenly materializes onto the mat-covered stool. Watching me intently. Ready for me to notice her.
Hoping to be petted, I think – given a hearty chin rub.
But she’s not turned the right direction. Her head isn’t close enough for me to reach.
Hope adopts an “oh well, never mind” posture. Ignores me. Begins licking herself clean.

Cats are certainly flexible! Her hind feet/haunches face one way;
Her head and upper body are parallel to them but completely turned the other way.
Tail east, head west.

Suddenly, she stops all activity. Looking intently at something.

Ah, there is –
"Oh, there's that strange thing again.” Her posture seems to hint that she’s noticed it for the first time. (Though of course she’s seen it many times before.)
“Why, look at that!”
“There’s that waggy thing with the knot on the end!"

She makes a dive for the knot.
Of course, as she’s on her feet, there’s no way a half-tailed Manx can catch her own tail!

She tumbles over on her side, reaching again for it.
But being so large (she weighs 15 pounds), she runs out of stool to support her.
Topples off, hind end first.
Hope swivels in mid-air to catch herself to land on her front paws.
But there’s a small bucket next to the stool.
She comes down, all off-balance, with her head in the little bucket.
Her haunches and body weight hang over the edge -- which of course tips over the bucket.

Zoom. She backslides, power-slithering her way out of the bucket.
Scoots out of the room as if chased by the bogeyman.

Am I rude, to laugh prolongedly and chuckle outright all the time she’s chasing her tail and tumbling into the bucket and scampering away?

Hope will soon forget her undignified fall. She’ll forget that a half-tailed Manx never wins the game of “catch my tail.” But I’m given a great and precious gift. It changes my outlook on the whole day – when Hope makes me laugh!

This post is shared with Laura Boggess and L. L. Barkat

In God's Hands

2011-12-25T20:58:00.000-08:00

Randall Wallace, author of the recent movie "Braveheart", also has written a book called "The Touch".

Because of a trauma that has affected his life, a brilliant surgeon decides he can no longer do brain surgery on people. But with his skills and knowledge, he can guide other doctors who are doing operations. He also is persuaded to assist a medical technology company trying to develop a computerized program to help surgeons operating in the brain. The doctor and the woman who heads the company fall in love. But she is afflicted with a medical fault that heretofore has been considered inoperable. The surgeon masters his emotions enough to promise to try to save her life with a dangerous operation. But at the last moment after she's on the operating table, he loses his nerve and walks out.

A wise priest counsels him saying – "You offer your hand to God. Whether He uses it – whether your hand becomes His hand – is up to Him."

The surgeon returns to the operating room and successfully operates, thus saving the life of the woman he loves.

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"You offer your hand to God. Whether He uses it – whether your hand becomes His hand – is up to Him."

Oh, really?

If I could honestly, earnestly grasp and believe (feel, know, think, assume) that statement, would I be able to stop saying -- "If I try I'll probably fail"? Or, "What's the use? It isn't going to work anyway."

We know that we have plenty of limitations. And we have to be careful that we aren’t tempting God by assuming too much that he will grandly use us. But what if I could trust that it was all up to God, not me? Would that erase my sometimes-thoughts -- "I'm not good enough, clever enough, useful enough, clean enough"?

I have no idea how we flawed human beings can become certain that whether God uses our hands, is up to Him. It doesn't seem to do any good for me to give myself pep talks about how God sees me. I keep wondering if I am flubbing what he had planned for me. (Which is, of course, the enemy of our souls trying to shame me into thinking I need to be in control. Dare I even say I’m subtly, unconsciously trying to play God?)

I know I ought to believe God our Savior is always at work. That he’s in control. That “all things work together for good to those who believe…” But no matter how many times I tell him I trust him, I always seem to fall back again into my fears. Nevertheless, I will just keep on coming to him. I admit my brokenness, my inability to measure up to what I consider to be God's standards. And I will keep on offering him my life, my hands, my intentions, and my dreams.

Whether he uses me – is up to him. Not up to me? Whew! What a relief.

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.” (Eph 2:10)

This post is shared with
Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring" Playdates with God

Re-Purposed Art

2011-12-13T10:13:00.000-08:00

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“Re-purposed art”.

A mild freeze zapped the nasturtium vines. (Though some of the leaves still looked green the next morning, they are no longer being nourished by the roots, and so, their death will be inevitable.)

Why would I take pictures of a tangle of ugly, dead nasturtium stems?

Patterns. That’s why!

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The original photo shows that part of the garden is a mess. But oh, how much material a single photo gives me for graphics-play! “Re-purposed art”, some call it, making something new out of something old.

God sees the mess in me. The dead tangles, disconnected from the vine of Christ. But how thankful I am that he also sees the beauty-parts in my life -- worth saving, worth changing and re-coloring. “Re-purposed art” – making something new out of something old. I’m trusting that God the Creator is at play making his wonder-patterns in me.

This post is shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
On, in and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

What the Wind Brought----

2011-12-04T20:15:00.000-08:00

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What the Wind Brought—

I have no trees in my front yard –
But I had bright autumn leaves
All shining in the ragged grass.
A galloping winter storm
Blew them far across the street.
The rains came down for days,
And kept those jewels new/fresh.
When those liquid drops stopped,
I ran out to see what the wind brought---

Orange and red and rusty-fall;
Yes, even some still tinted green.
I gathered fistfuls, gleefully,
Bringing them in the house with me,
Arranging them “just so”, to see---

The leaves in the neighbor’s drive
Turned brown-squishy from driving cars.
The leaves I’d salvaged, I pressed to dry;
They’ve lost their shine; colors will fade someday.
But the ones captured with camera eye
Will ever stay bright autumn colors,
And every time I look at pics
I’ll have delightful memories
Of the God-breathed mood that came over me
After gathering in what the wind brought----

copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to link to this post. But please, no copying of images or text without permission

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This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat, "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In, and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

Simple Little Things

2011-11-28T14:45:00.000-08:00

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SIMPLE LITTLE THINGS

Many months ago, a kindergarten teacher and I talked about simple art projects. For one of my own projects, I’d turned brightly colored Jello boxes into “birdhouses”, complete with black paper “holes” and glued-on paper birds. She acted so interested that I began saving Jello boxes for her. Recently, after I could finally tell her I had a box for each of her 19 students, she announced to her students that they were going to learn about jello.

The kids would look up info on how it was manufactured, and what you did to make it (at home). They could discuss words like "recipes", and "labels" (on the box) and "instructions" for making something, and "list" (the list(s) on the box). The measuring directions could be shown as examples of math problems. She even uses the numbers on the bar codes to work as math.

The ingredients list on the box could become a talk about "health", Someone with food allergies could read the list to see what was in the jello – such as: "red dye # 58."

I wonder how many kindergarteners would normally be taught that people can be allergic to ingredients, and that their food preparers need to read box labels.

At times I feel that I don’t do much to help other people. Circumstances in my life keep me from having a whole lot of contacts and interactions. But I need to remember that simple little things can sometimes offer unexpected blessings.

I seem to have blessed her a lot just by saving otherwise-throwaway little boxes, and by showing her a creative use for them. Her enthusiasm for helping her students learn, and her thanks to me for saving the boxes, blessed me. Apparently, as the teacher said, “There are all kinds of things to learn about Jello.”

We need to keep our eyes on God, don’t we? To count the many ways he blesses us, and makes us a blessing to others, often through simple little things.

This post is shared with L. L. Barkat "On, In and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess "Playdates with God"

My Soul Feels Satisfied

2011-11-23T14:56:00.000-08:00

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My Soul Feels Satisfied

The paintings were made by a 92+ year old woman in an assisted living facility. The simple little works were sent to our church, which the woman used to attend, for a bazaar. As far as I know, this lady didn’t paint pictures during her “active years.” In fact, unhappy circumstances often beseiged her former life. I’m told that she was shocked to find she would live to be so old. And I like to think she found a sort of peace and contentment in creativity during her older years. Maybe she was able to build herself a sanctuary by seeing that she still had it in herself to make her own expressions of beauty. I hope making her little artworks comforted her and in some way opened her mind to be brought closer to God.

Sometimes my hopes get dashed. Sometimes I hurt too much to feel very contented. I can easily feel I’ve been laid on the shelf, just waiting – but, for what? Are there really any productive years left for me? However, my own pastime of art has often comforted me. Creating paintings or other art -- or even just seeing in my mind the images I’d make if I had time and energy – is a way that I can worship the Lord and King of all. My soul feels satisfied.

Almighty God had enough imagination to fashion our Earth and the whole universe to be wondrous and beautiful. He saw to it that his children were “fearfully and wonderfully made.” Thinking on this, I can take heart that even yet he has a plan for me. He will still nurture and bring forth my own creativities. Oh, how thankful I am that God is the creativity business! He will bless you, and he will bless me.

This post is shared with "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In and Around Mondays

and "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

God's Story Is Illustrated in Me

2011-11-14T12:47:00.001-08:00

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Hundred-and-ten-year-old newspapers are a treasure-trove.
Newspaper articles and opinions took the pulse of American thought,
belief, customs, and action.
Besides the warnings of wars in other lands or strife in our own,
And the often-messy political scene,
There were many tidbits about local people, businesses, institutions, gatherings.
Of course, there were ads for both local and “outside” businesses.
The readers could find out about everything from fashions to farming,
and even enjoy fiction pieces.
There were illustrations, of sorts –
Just a few, not as plentiful as in later years –
Primarily line-drawings, carved or etched in some substance
Into which hot lead could be poured
And left to cool and harden.

A “paper-cut” (a graphic illustration on a slug of lead) could be inserted between
columns of text.
The drawing above accompanied a lengthy story in the Coquille Bulletin (in the state of Oregon) July 12, 1901. (The story didn’t originate locally.)

The actual newspaper issue from July 12, 1901 was preserved on microfilm.
It can be read on a microfilm reader, which has a large, lighted screen rather
like a TV. I photographed this graphic with my digital camera. Through the
miracle of modern technology, you can now see a snippet that readers of the
Coquille Bulletin newspaper saw and handled 110 years ago.

I’m not hot lead in a mold! But God is pouring his Spirit into me.
When I’ve “set” in his pattern, it will be a lovely one – he’s promised me so.
My life is reflecting the thoughts, beliefs, and actions that he is etching in to me.
I’m a part of the political process that ultimately
will bring about the perfected Kingdom-of-God.
I may see only the messy process of being put under pressure.
The strife and fears, the wars and rumors of wars in my own life,
May make me feel I’m being scrunched and locked into place
In a way similar to the paper-cut being forced to lock into a printing press frame.
But if I can just stop to remember, I am a part of HIS STORY.
I am – however imperfectly -- his illustration of kingdom living.
I look forward eagerly to the day when it may be said of me:
“For now we know in part… but then we shall know him as we also are known.”
That I should ever know him as he now knows me, seems unfathomable.
But I’m resting in his promise. Amen, and amen.

This post is shared with "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In and Around Mondays

and "The Wellspring" Playdates with God

God's Program Never Gets Outdated

2011-11-07T15:29:00.000-08:00

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God’s Program Never Gets Outdated

Adobe Photoshop graphics program is nifty,
And I have an old old one that’s thrifty.
Way back in its day, it came bundled, free,
With a new printer. Adobe doesn’t give its product free
Anymore, and up-to-date versions are spendy.
And new Photoshop only works with new system that’s trendy.
My computer, too, is old. But it suits me.
Oh, the hours I play, my mood flowing in glee.

Even my vintage Photoshop makes good photos snappy,
Masks out telephone wires or turns gray sky happy.
Amazing colors may pop out to be seen
In underexposed photos once completely black on my screen.
My Photoshop graphics program is so spiffy –
I create new artworks from patterns/colors so “iffy”:
Rings and circles, or colored lines clean,
Waves and zigzags and sweet valentines.

“Playing” helps shape my identity –
Choices offered as worship, brings me serenity.
“Lens-flare tool” splashes patterns to see:
Thank you, Lord, for setting me free.
God is grander than Photoshop, and he is swiftly
Transforming my life-patterns all uplifty!
His change is working deeply in me
To make me the person he’s called me to be.

© 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is also shared with L L Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In, and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"'
Playdates with God

The Pelicans

2011-10-23T14:32:00.000-07:00

(images are in the public domain)

The following is a guest post.

The Pelicans
By Betty Doyle

We sat by the ocean where the river
Met the writhing swells of the jetty,
And far out at sea the darkness
Was threatening already.
The mighty waves crashed relentlessly
In huge mountains of spray;
Each followed the other
To wear the rocks away.
The winds picked up and swept
The clumps of sea grass
Giving warning that summer days
Were past,
And from the dark gray horizon
We began to see
Birds with long beaks,
As they were starting to flee:
A flock of Pelicans without number,
Heading to the shore;
Their large wings caught the wind
And helped them sail the more.
They dived close over the water,
But their prey they did not see,
Then circled all around,
Relentlessly.

We watched this performance as ducks
And seagulls joined the rest
As the wind grew worse,
Coming in from the west.
Even a red-winged blackbird
Could be seen,
But the large Pelicans seemed to vanish
From the scene.
The clouds moved in fast, the colors
Seemed to change with the gale,
And soon the pelting rain we heard;
Yet still the gulls did sail.
It was time to leave this panorama
Of Nature’s best;
And as we drove by the harbor we sighted
The flock of Pelicans bedded down to rest.

Copyright 2011 by Betty Doyle.
Used by permission.

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone",
On, In, and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring",
Playdates with God

BELONGS TO----

2011-10-18T17:52:00.000-07:00

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Jesus Belongs to Me

You know how it is when you get something stuck in your mind? A song you haven’t thought of in years, suddenly repeats in your head endlessly. Or you keep dreaming and scheming about something you want to do, even though you haven’t time to do one more thing, but already have plenty of things to do already.

A magazine illustration had attracted me for a long time. It had pleasing color contrasts and wispy, feathery lines. I wanted to create something using the same colors, with trailing lines. But the urge always came when I needed to do something else rather urgently. Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer – I needed to create “that look”. Or at least to use those colors.

I settled for some quickie pastel (artist’s chalk) sketches. The illustration was on an attractively streaked blue background. My blue paper was a duller shade, and minus the fetching decorative effects. My pastels weren’t as bright or neon-y as those in the magazine design. The chalk wouldn’t lend itself to the picture’s transparency showing pretty lines underneath parts of the final layers.

But I’d thought of that picture – and postponed action of my own -- for weeks. And I could envision my color combinations making pleasant work. (As a matter of fact, the first foray turned out to be so much fun I got out other colors of paper and quickly made several other squiggly-line drawings.) Thus did my creativity get the “doing of the thing” unstuck from my mind.

I do always try to offer my art, and everything else I do, as a worship to God. As it happened, I also had a song stuck in my mind (an old hymn).
Now I belong to Jesus,
Jesus belongs to me –
Not for the years of time alone,
But for eternity.

I grew tired of my mind echoing the same little chorus over and over. But I couldn’t get the song unstuck from my brain. Along the way, however, the “Jesus belongs to me” part illuminated itself as vividly as my brightly swirled lines were brightening the papers.

We are so often admonished to keep our faith. “A Christian ought not to have doubts.” “Don’t give in the fear.” “Don’t allow negative thoughts.” “God always sends revival when people repent and pray, so if you’re not experiencing revival, you need to repent of not spending enough time with God.” “Don’t lose your first love.” “Give and it shall be given to you.” “The Lord loves a cheerful giver.” “Forsake not the assembly of believers, as some have done.” Agggrrr! There can be so much WORK to being a Christian. So much trying to get it right -- “Now I belong to Jesus” (so I ought to be good, and kind, and holy.) The persons who keep pushing these ideas mean well enough. Certainly I’m not advocating we are to be slackers for God. But all the good advice is enough to wear me out.

But – “Jesus belongs to me!” Well, that says something different to me. Yes, I know we are “in Christ”, that we are born again, that “the Lord inhabits the praises of his people.” I believe his promises (not my own ability to believe, but his faithfulness at “keeping” me). So because “Jesus belongs to me”, I can cheerfully accept the verse from Ephesians chapter 1 that says “and all things happen just as he decided long ago.”

(It’s not that now I’ve had some new revelation that I’d never thought of before. It’s just that the daily burdens of life make me forget who I am in Jesus, and who he is in me. I need all the reminders and refreshings I can get!)

Whew! It’s not my work to “keep” myself. Jesus belongs to me. He won’t let go of my hand. He won’t stop guiding me, comforting me. He continually offers me HIMSELF.

(He’s much better at drawing imaginative, bright scrolly lines in me, in my life-circumstances, than I am of envisioning what he’s working on in me.) Wow! I think I just unstuck my mind, both from hearing that song playing on and on in my head not letting in any other praise-him-song, and from trying to think how I can be the most pleasing to him.

For all of that, I can truly say with the Psalmist, “My lines have fallen in pleasant places.”

copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone" On, In, and Around Mondays

And with Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring" Playdates with God

When Life Isn't Fair.

2011-10-03T16:48:00.001-07:00

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WHEN LIFE ISN'T FAIR.

Some time ago I reported my escapade with a leaky bucket of paint, that left a mess I had to sop up with plenty of paper towels. And I shared how I’d saved the blottings for backgrounds of future artworks.

The paper towel with the thickest soppings was crumpled and gooey and unmanageable. I couldn’t really flatten it onto a newspaper backing. So I left it to dry out while draped loosely over a cardboard box. The paint, of course, stuck to the box – mostly. The drapes and folds protrude, but probably would sag over time from moisture in the air.

I’m an artist who loves to make backgrounds. Sometimes, the odder the better. My intention is always to draw or paint or glue on objects of interest for the foregrounds. But that part of making art scares me! A lot! What if I can’t find or make something that takes best advantage of the blots and scribblings in the background? What if I my point of interest happens to hide the very best part of a dramatic background? What if I don’t like my artwork when I’m done? When am I going to have time to create the wild and wonderful foregrounds I envision in mind? In fact, do I even have the skill to draw and paint, or cut out, the perfect shapes for things I’m not used to drawing?

It’s not fair to have big dreams for art, but not to be sure I can satisfy myself (or others). Will what I make, be worth the long struggle to pull things together? Or will I FAIL, as I often feel like I do?

Maybe first, before I try to create a unified work, I need to lay out some elements. See if I come up with something I like. Interesting colors, or shapes, or sizes, or ??? In this instance, I laid some objects (that just happened to be in the room) with the draped box. I could be as whimsical as I liked, since the objects weren’t meant to be a permanent attachment.

The randomly chosen objects were: A chenille bird (from a rummage sale). A little tree-shrub I’d cut from cardboard. My art abstract: “White half-tailed Manx cat sleeping on rug” (translation: pulled-apart cotton puff, frayed burlap scrap, good imagination).

Quirky, yes. Whimsical. The odd bits and pieces, placed together, made a fun photo! With a background, textures, a foreground, and other interesting points.

Sometimes, our lives seem unfair. We dream of wonderful lives filled with achievements and earthly rewards. We’d like to have good friends and family, a peaceful existence, enough money to live on, enough food to eat, enough deep sense of God in our lives to feel “satisfied” and running over with blessings.

And then “real life” happens. Bad things happen to good people. Almost everyone goes through struggles. Griefs, sorrows, loss, embarrassments, put-downs, abuse. Disappointment, discontent, heartache, failure, poor attitudes, poverty, disease, wars and rumors of wars. A lot of odd pieces get slung at us; we sigh because we can’t make sense of what is happening. We think we’ve been handed more than we can cope with.

I have to keep telling myself that it’s not what happens in this life -- but what I do with what has happened. Scratch that! It’s really what I allow God to work within me. Am I going to be bitter, or better? Do I hate myself for failing, or look for his rainbows? Resent the stones that have tumbled into my path, or ask him to lead me around or over them? Am I too scared to keep trying? Will I dwell on the past until I miss the beauties and the God-gifts of the present moment? Or do I try to see the odd pieces of seeming strangeness or disaster, as lessons in beholding the beauty and presence of the Lord in spite of everything?

I can’t stop all failures. I can’t do away with all fears. I may not be able to change all the textures I have to deal with. It’s natural to feel scared, defenseless, broadsided, hurt or wounded. But I can try – sometimes with gritted teeth or a doubtful heart, to be sure – to keep offering to open my clenched fists. Dear God, I ask you to shape me into the person you meant all along for me to be.

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This post is also shared with L L Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone" On, In, or Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring" Playdates with God.

Summer-Dry, Still Beautiful

2011-09-30T14:45:00.000-07:00

SUMMER-DRY, BUT STILL BEAUTIFUL

A bit of broken curb in a parking strip. A swath of dried out grassy lawn. A sere but curious tuft of grass. So ordinary. Things almost dead. But still beautiful. The coloration, the inspired lines waving outward. This mini-scene could be ignored completely by a walker passing by. But how delicate the lines and planes. How intriguing the difference in textures. The scene is summer-dry, but beauty is there for the taking. I drink in to my soul the refreshment God has provided in this small cranny.

Soon the rains will come. The curb will color darker with the wet. The grassy lawn will take new heart and life; the dead will fall away and new green flash forth. All will shine with clean lines.

May you, and I, shine with clean lines as God rains his presence, His Spirit, on us. As we "behold the beauty of the Lord, [our] light and our salvation", may we realize how much we are blessed. Our many textures, and seasonal colorations, are admired by Him.

Ordinary but not taken for granted

2011-09-30T14:28:00.000-07:00

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ORDINARY, BUT NOT TAKEN FOR GRANTED

A very small patch of sidewalk. So ordinary.

One might walk it every day and not see anything special about it. But closer inspection shows individually unique patterns in the gravel.

Evergreen needles, dead, turned brown. So ordinary.
One might not even notice them at all.
But a closer look shows tinges of red, and an artful scattering.

Tiny bit of lichen, wind-blown off its mooring where it once resided on a tree. So ordinary.
One could tromp it underfoot and never think of it again.
But close-up, see how beautiful the scrolly lines, the great and noble patterns and designs.

And then there's me! So ordinary.
Do others see me at all? Or care who I am or want to be?
Do they ever take a closer look and see the artful patterns within me?
(Do I look inside to find my beauty of unique individuality?)

God sees. He's not ordinary. He's a unique Creator who specializes in the ordinary made extra-ordinary.
He sees the patterns of his Creation, knows them intimately.
He sees the scrolls and designs and all the rest, including nobility!
How noble is ordinary -- he made all things, and he takes none of them for granted!

Thank you, Lord, for giving your children eyes to see the every facet of ordinary. May we not take you, or nature, or man-made fabrications, for granted. We bless you, for your holy creativity.

Call to Pray

2011-09-19T17:12:00.001-07:00

The following came in my e-mail today from the Yahoo group "Devotions". Michael Inman is a pastor; he posts regularly on "Devotions" and I have found his devotionals helpful and inspiring. I don't know if his wife, Mrs. Inman, compiled the message below, or if she obtained it intact from another source. But I believe we always need to make a place for prayer in our lives. It's always time to ask God to bless the people in all nations. It's always time to ask His wisdom in understanding how to pray for all situations. And it's always time to pray, "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven."

--

begin Fwd message:

From: "Mrs. Anita P. Inman"

Subject: Call to Pray

Please, pray today and tomorrow about this Durbin conference at the
United Nations in New York today and tomorrow. Israel is about to be
offered up as a sacrificial Lamb for false promises of peace. America
is on a prophetic countdown to the gravest days in our history. In
just a few days, a vote will be taken (if not already) at the United
Nations that will force America to choose between standing with
Israel and standing with her enemies. The Bible says we do NOT
wrestle against flesh and blood but against principalities and
powers. This is a spiritual battle, and it must be fought with
spiritual weapons. America needs Divine intervention that can only
come from God's people standing in the gap like Esther. This national
Campaign will cost $350,000. I am asking every christian who loves Israel and America to stand up to Jew hatred like Corrie Ten Boom as her family did in Holland during the Holocaust.
The terrorist organization, Hamas, is now part of the Palestinian
government. Its purpose is its plot against Israel. This is the
organization with which President Obama is negotiating and to whom
his administration is sending our tax dollars.
Prophecy is being fulfilled. The prophet Isaiah records Satan
declared he would rage against God (Isaiah 14) and do battle on the
'sides of the north' - the Bible description of Mount Zion. There is
a bigger picture than the headlines show. There is a spiritual
battle taking place between light and darkness... between good and
evil...and we are not observers - we ARE IN THIS FIGHT!
We must sound the alarm like the ancient priests blew the SHOFAR to
alert the Israelites to prepare for battle.
Please join the millions of Christine across America and other
countries who is praying against this vote to save there countries
from judgement. Please stand up for Israel today against this ugly
and evil tide of racism. We must not fail to do our part to deliver
the Jewish people. This is our "such a time as this." This is our
moment to stand and speak. This is our moment to kneel and pray.
This is our moment stand with Israel even if know one else will. -
Mike Evans 'Jerusalem Prayer Team'

Please watch, 'It's Supernatural' with Sid Roth, this week. His
speaker is Rabbi Jonathan Cahn and his new book called 'The
Harbinger", he talks about the foreshadows of future events, an
omens, and heralds and signs to come. Especially, about how Israel
is treated. And what will happen in the U.S. and other countries, if
we don't stand with Israel. Please, watch!!!!

" Dear Father, we know that Israel is the apple of Your eye and that
You hold her in the palm of Your hand. We know that soon Jesus will
make His triumphal entry through the eastern gate at His return to
the earth. Jerusalem will be the seat of government for all the
earth.
We love Israel because You love Israel. We know that we have been
blessed through her in the person of Jesus Christ.
Father, Jesus said that there would be unrest in Israel until He came
again, because Israel will never know any real peace until the Prince
of Peace returns. However, we are instructed to pray for the peace
of Jerusalem so our prayers can help facilitate the events of His
return.
In Jesus' mighty name, we pray for the peace of Jerusalem
continually. We set ourselves as a watchman and will not rest until
Jerusalem is a voice of praise in all the earth.
In Jesus' name we pray! Amen"

"I have set watchmen on your walls, O Jerusalem; They shall never
hold their peace day or night. You who make mention of the Lord, do
not keep silent, and give Him no rest till He establishes and till He
makes Jerusalem a praise in the earth." Isaiah 62:6,7

"And I will bless them that bless thee, and curse him that curseth
thee; and in thee shall all families of the earth be blessed."
Genesis 12:3

Love and God Bless you all!
Anita :-*

--

Michael D. Inman
- The Only Thing Necessary For Evil to Triumph is for Good Men to do
Nothing -- Edmund Burke...

[snip]

'IN GOD WE TRUST',

I will bless those who bless Israel.....Genesis 12:3

end Fwd message

Further reference to this subject may be found at

http://unitedwithisrael.org/newsletter/NewsletterPage/09_19_2011.html

This post is also shared with L L Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone and Laura Boggess' "Playdates with God."

How I Worship

2011-09-05T15:13:00.000-07:00

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How I Worship

There are so many people out there
Who are crying.
Or who are sighing.
Or maybe they are dying.

And I should be out there
On the front lines,
Showing that Jesus shines,
Guarding land mines.

Oh, I’m unable to be out there
Weeping with the crying,
Sighing with the sighing,
Breathing life into the dying.

But my prayers can be out there!
My tears I assign,
And I worship God Divine,
Showing Him just this one sign:

I can be creative, right here!
Offer myself up to Him!

I can paint ladybugs
from pistachio nut shells
while glorying in Him;

And arrange pressed
nasturtium vines
while praising Him.

And make a bright sun
While proclaiming Him.
Such is my humble offering
While remembering Him.

He is Lord of both here, and there.
His providence is bountiful,
His mighty strength is wonderful.
He acts, ‘till the times are full’.
Our God is still in control!

Creating a small, simplistic artwork seems such a trivial thing to do to help usher in his kingdom. But in the making of it, I’ve offered Him the very best of me that I know how to give. If this is my appointed work for today, then he will honor it. ‘Lord, bless all the people today. I’m unable to “do”, or “go”,. So please send your own dear Self to all who need a blessing. (And who needs you most? Why, every person everywhere!)’

“Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable in God’s sight.”
(Romans 12:1)
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copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to link to this post, but please, no copying without permission.

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's "On, In, and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess' "Playdates with God"

The Art of a Created Heart

2011-08-30T12:18:00.001-07:00

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THE ART OF A CREATED HEART

Old, dead dried out calla lily leaf –
Shouldn’t you just be tossed on refuse heap?
No, for papery texture of leafy part
Lends itself to pleasure of created art.
Leafy part, when scanned digitally,
Transforms into an artistic sort of tree.

Lord, pleasure yourself, breathe me anew,
Make my every effort a reflection of you.
Transform my papery wrinkled texture to art;
Breathe new life into my dead dried out heart.
I’ll no more be like old calla lily leaf
If you enhance the design of my God-belief.

photos and text
copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller

Feel free to link to this post, but please, no copying for public display without permission

This post is also shared with L L Barkat's Seedlings in Stone
On, In, and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' The Wellspring
Playdates with God

Seeing Beauty Gives Me Hope

2011-08-15T09:11:00.000-07:00

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HOPE IS A THING WITH PLUSH-FUR

So many terrible things are happening on the world scene, and in the lives of people we know. Sometimes it’s hard to keep from feeling that today, and our future, is nearly hopeless. Yet, in his epistle to the Philippians, Paul admonishes us: “Whatsoever is pure…lovely…honest…of good report…, think on these things.” (Phil. 4:8) It’s not that we are to “be in denial” that bad things are happening. But it’s making a choice to trust our Lord and God IN ALL THINGS. We choose to remember his goodness and mercy – and his gift to us of continually making beautiful things for us to “think on”.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all…
--Emily Dickenson

My comparison:

Hope is the thing with plush-fur
That delights my very soul,
For she sings the tune – without the words,
And never stops at all…

Playing with Dickenson’s words, I’m referring to Hope, my lovely white cat. She’s a beauty! Looking at her uplifts my mood – and a renewed sense of hope flutters in my soul. When I speak to her, she gazes soulfully – attentively -- into my eyes. And that stirs me so deeply I tell her, out loud: “You’re so-o-o beautiful.”

Dickenson “feels” that inner-hope is singing a tune without words. When I think of Hope, my cat, singing without words, I’m not considering her “meow” (though it is soft, gentle, and infrequent). Rather, her very presence reminds me of the lovely God who has given us his lovely creation, and who empowers us to go on hoping, whether our journey takes us into the best of times or the worst of times.

My Beautiful God, my Lord and Savior, encourages me through Nature’s abundance of beauties. One of his beauty-gifts is the profusion of flowers. A branch I plucked from a flowering tree, again reminds me of how God’s beauty touches and renews me!

Truly He is everywhere! And in everything! Thanks be unto God.

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Photos and text copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller

Feel free to link to this post, but please, no copying without permission. Thanks.
=

This entry is also shared with "Seedlings in Stone" On, In and Around Mondays

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2011/08/on-in-and-around-mondays-when-compass.html

And with "The Wellspring" Playdates with God

http://www.lauraboggess.com/2011/08/playdates-with-god-notes-from-sea.html

(Sorry, I can't seem to make the links work right; copy and paste url into browser.)

Raindrops on Nasturtium Bed

2011-08-10T14:35:00.000-07:00

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A LEAKY BUCKET

2011-08-02T13:20:00.000-07:00

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A Leaky Bucket

Wanted to paint some cardboards
To make background for arty collages.
Had a bucket of redwood fence stain
On hand, about a third full.
Old paint, sitting too long in the can.
Pigments had separated into layers,
With some slimy stuff that the stirring stick
Just wouldn’t mix in.

Not worth getting out a paint brush!
Dangled a paper towel in the syrrupy mixture;
Spread the goo on the cardboard.
Colors so separated from mysterious chemicals
That the mix only stained the cardboard slightly.
And all the rest got rubbed off to keep
From wetting the cardboard to melting.
The highly diluted old-blood sheen
Was better than the cardboard suggesting,
As it had before, “I’m just cut from any old box.”

Finished the staining. Lifted the bucket,
Unsuspecting, ready to put the lid back on.
Saw a tiny pool of reddish.
But I couldn’t have run the goopy paper down there!
Lifted more. Uh oh!
The paint bucket had sprung a leak, underneath!

Thick puddle of intense redwood stain!
It filled all the circle under where the can had sat.
What a good thing the bucket hadn’t leaked
While still on its storage shelf.
Lucky the spill only marred an old workshop bench!

Set the can on paper towels, but rivulets kept on,
Quickly oozing. Not a mess I could let sit and drain!
Dashed upstairs, returned at once with roll
Of paper towels, old newspapers, and empty plastic cartons
To hold a pour of remaining paint.

Soon had the cartons filled, one deep color
And one thin stain and swirled minerals.
But couldn’t set down the bucket anywhere
Or the remaining two tablespoons would leak out
And maybe overflow the sopping paper again.

Could have just stuffed the can full
Of newspapers and paper towels to absorb the mess;
Could have just set it down on a cardboard to drip.
But I had many cardboards. (And paper towels!)
“Waste not, want not!” Why not follow an arty mood?

Pouring out the residue, a few drops at a time.
Deep intense redwood fence stain,
Swizzled here and drizzled there.
Spots and blotches, and places where I let drips run freely.
And a multitude of wadded paper towels
Blotted up the rest, until I could let go of the can at last.

Cardboards got strewn over most of the workbench space,
Left there for puddles to dry.
Straightened out the oozy paper towels,
Laying each on newspaper to absorb underside.
Even draped one heavily-saturated towel over a box, artfully.
Pages of wet paper-towels on newspapers
Spread all across the basement floor.
Uh, oh! My cat came down the stairs!
Just what I would need - cat prints all over the floor!
Quick, I chased her down and scared her enough
That she trotted back upstairs.
And I trotted up the stairs to close the door,
And down again, this time to sop the bench.

But there’d been objects lying there:
Two nails, a screw, a hook, a rubber band.
Each made a dam to back up paint deep.
A lot more paper towels went to suck the mess.
There’ll always be a redwood stain,
But thankfully, it’s only a worn old workshop bench!

After my “artwork” backgrounds dried, I saw
Opportunities for crafting, there!
Later on I fashion a tree of blue painter’s tape.
On another piece, a young friend and I
Add to a dribbled forest, new blue parts.

If I can be arty in disposing of a leaky mess,
If I can dream of unplanned craft ideas
All because of a leaky bucket of paint –
Why, just think of the God who created this earth, and me;
He has imagination and artistic ability.
I give him my leaks and stains: the fear of failing,
The bent toward discontent or over-worrying;
The wear of too much care, the weariness of humdrum life.
I’ll trust Him to make something capable,
Unique and beautiful, out of me!

“For we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of Christ may shine through.” (II Cor 4:7 )
_

copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's Seedlings in Stone
"On, In and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess' The Wellspring
"Playdates with God"

BEAUTIFUL BLACKBERRY BLOSSOMS

2011-07-17T20:57:00.001-07:00

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BEAUTIFUL BLACKBERRY BLOSSOMS. 7-17-11

In the part of the country where I live, Himalaya blackberries, large-kerneled versions of the wild blackberry, grow – well, they grow like ubiquitous weeds! Uninhibited. Deep-rooted and hard to dig up. Sprawling, thriving, and thorny, twining tendrils amidst other plants. Overgrowing the garden beds, if not kept under strict control.

Most Himalaya blossoms are white. But those that grow in deep shade may be a delicious shade of pink.

Pinkly silken splendors,
Petal-soft contours,
With fairy-crown centers.
Beautiful blackberry blossoms, out-standers.

Shady places are their tenders,
As Nature renders
Fairy tale wonders.
Sight of beauty pink petals: my heart ponders
God-given rainbows and sun-tours
And unmerited grace-extenders,
And blush-pink to be mood-menders.
My spirit is touched with God’s gift-bloom grandeurs.

Copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to link to this post, but please no copying for public viewing without permission.

This post is shared with L L Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"

and with Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"

LIMNS UPON A LIMB

2011-06-27T14:20:00.001-07:00

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LIMNS UPON A LIMB 6-28-11

I’d missed out on getting to the beach for a long time. So when an opportunity came up for me to go, I was so glad. The lovely sunny day gave promise of a chance to enjoy beauty. However, on arrival at the beach, the ocean was blanketed with fog. Most of the gentle waves showed only as blurs. Nor did the mist lift as the day progressed.

When one kind of beauty is obscured, it becomes imperative to look for other signs of the unexpected, of liveliness and God’s presence.

The foghorn blared its rhythmic toot. Three pelicans flew by in formation, just far enough away to be a bit blurred by fog, but recognizeable in shape. And the close-in landscape gave a clear perspective. Several dozen seagulls lurked in the parking lot, in hopes of mooching some tourist’s leftover food. Dogs romped in the sand. People searched for agates, strolled along the sandy strand (ultimately disappearing into the fog), or lounged with their backs to great logs.

I took pictures of beach pebbles deposited in great flowing masses by the tides, tumbling rivers of stone upon stone upon. And then there were the driftwood logs, bleached silver-white by sun and weather, scoured into shapes and showing knobs and slivers and grainy patterns.

There amidst the strewn drifted woods, I discovered the drawn lines/signs on a longish, whitened log limb –
They had been limned in charcoal (perhaps taken from a campfire?) by an unknown passerby.

I’ve been to the beach many times. But this is the first time I’ve happened on charcoal drawings, or a log used as an artist’s canvas.

Some of my days seem blanketed with fog. With a mist which doesn’t wish to lift. So that my future steps, and even motivation for the present moment, seem blurred and not very hopeful or lively. But even in such times, God leaves his limns/signs for me to seek out, or come across unexpectedly. He gives me cause, and pause, to appreciate the Great Artist of all Nature, the Mighty Creator of all Life.

I take heart. “I am my beloved’s, and he is mine; his banner over me is love.” And that thought is comfort which never leaves me out-on-a-limb!

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This post is also shared with:
L. L. Barkat's Seedlings in Stone
"On, In and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess' The Wellspring,"
"Playdates with God."

FULFILLMENT

2011-06-22T07:44:00.001-07:00

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FULFILLMENT

So many dreadful things are happening in this poor, tired world;
Many lives are being turned upside-down.
Constant bad news is enough to make us fearful creatures,
Unsure whether we can survive,
Even when we try to believe God knows what he’s doing,
That he “knows our frame is dust”
Yet we can’t seem to help our timidity,
But must only keep permitting him to be the fulfillment of Christ within us.
To remember that he counts our hours and our days.

The transparent bottle, before, held dishwashing soap;
The first two rinses were myriads of tiny crowded bubbles,
But the third rinse created a few large and sparkly cells,
Also a crown-like medallion of wonder.
Ephemeral, fleeting soap bubbles
Gleaming in the midst of wearying kitchen choring;
Lustrous designs influenced by the shape of the bottle.

My heart soars again,
My trust of God rebounds no end!
If his natural laws for this Earth
Can bring forth beauty out of nothing-much,
Then let me no more be a fearful creature,
But instead believe that I/we will survive
And live forever with the Lord;
He promised! We are influenced by the shape of his clear Bottle.
His love gently holds our human fragile vessels,
To bring forth the beauty of Christ-in-you-and-me.
Let me have faith that God really does know the perfect way
To transform the wide world, and you, and me!

Copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is shared with L. L. Barkat's
On, In, and Around Mondays

And with Laura Boggess'
Playdates with God

Bright and Wonderful Things

2011-06-07T17:16:00.000-07:00

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Bright and Wonderful Things

Oh bright and wonderful Creator, God,
You have fashioned so many bright and wonderful things
For all to enjoy.

Thank you for creating
A bright and wonderful universe
With myriad starry treasures.
We applaud your making
Our bright and wonderful Planet Earth --
Just brimming with sights and pleasures.
Praise you for the ground that’s tilled,
And waterways with glory spilled,
And bright and wonderful animals
For all to enjoy.

Thank you for thinking
To send bright and wonderful angelfish
To splish and plash in the tropical sea.
You also gave your human beings
The bright and wonderful gift of creativity:
We carry out, through art, and life, a nativity
For all to enjoy.

For all bright and wonderful things,
(And the special gifting us with Yourself),
We thank you, Creator God!

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A while back, I posted on this blog my “sea” backgrounds for artworks, of aqua house paint on cardboard, over which was drizzled indigo batik dye powder. Later on, I showed my line drawings of angelfish that were to be placed against the backgrounds.
And now, here they are – 1. the painted (tempera) angelfish, which were then cut out. And 2. The finished collages of bright and wonderful fish pasted onto the “sea”.

art and text copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
You are welcome to create a link to this post. But please, no copying of art or text without permission. Thanks.

Bright and Wonderful Things is also shared with L. L. Barkat's
"On, In, and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess' "Playdates with God"

SHINY SILVER

2011-05-23T20:29:00.001-07:00

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SHINY SILVER

What is that shiny silver,
Object intangible,
Spinning toward me?

It may be a bellissimo ball
Of renewed hopefulness
To bounce away my discouragement.

It may be a mellowish moon
Of sought-after rest
To melt away my weariness.

It may be a sparkling sun
Of heaven-sent joy
To spark away my desperation.

It may be an imparted idea
Of my greatest wish come true –
To be inspired away from all faithlessness.

What is that shiny silver
Of heaven’s love tangible,
Spinning throughout me?

Copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
You may keep a copy on your computer. Feel free to post a link, but please, no public distribution by any method, without permission. Thanks.

“We have become gifts of God that he delights in...” (Eph. 1:11 TLB)

“Delight… in the Lord, and he shall give you the desires of your heart” [to receive His Fullness!] “Commit your way to him; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass.” (Ps. 37:4-5)

This post is also shared with:

L. L. Barkat "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In, and Around Mondays

Laura Boggess "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

A WAKE UP CALL?

2011-05-11T15:51:00.000-07:00

I have been much concerned and in prayer about a report on the "News from Israel" website about 3 weeks ago, and later from a Christian organization, that there are many sites on Facebook calling for an intifada against Israel on May 15. They are written in Arabic, so most people don't know about them. But the statement has been made by these sources that millions of Arabs have signed up to participate in protest demonstrations against Israel. I don't know exactly what this means, but it could be very ominous.

The bin Laden affair, which happened later, has led to more strident threats of retaliation against the US. Will we have catastrophes and demonstrations on our own soil? And Hamas is joining Fatah, but the former's vow still is to wipe out Israel and the Jews. Yet the rest of the
world is trying to force Israel to negotiate with Hamas-Fatah-PLO to partition the land. How can Israel be expected to agree to give part of its land to a group that has pledged the Jews' complete extinction in the entire land? And why has the media remained silent about the May 15 (uprising?)? If we had an arch-enemy who demanded part of the US for their homeland and had vowed to extinguish us, we wouldn't passively accept it and bow to the "whatevers". So why think Israel hasn't a right to defend itself against sworn arch-enemies?

My belief is that we're seeing the books of Daniel and Revelation come alive in the daily news. So many have taken those words as allegories, or said they shouldn't even be in the Bible. But every time I pick up a newspaper lately, I can see the words of Daniel and Revelation starting to come true. I believe the world is shaping up for the Great Tribulation.
Maybe not starting May 15, but soon.

What will we all do if this becomes a time of war and terror? A time when we don't feel at all safe? A time when the things we say or do can cause us to become targets? When the old familiar habits and ways no longer get us through? What will you do? What will I do? Will we turn to God and entrust ourselves to him? I think the day is coming when we can't trust
governments to help us or be on our side. We're already seeing that the world leaders don't really know what to do. And partisanship and bickering and anger and self-interest seem more important than being for the "common good of the people."

I have to cling to this:
"Though an host should encamp against us, my heart shall know no fear; Though war should rise up against us, in this will I be confidant: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to enquire in his temple. ...In the secret places of his pavillion will he hide me, and set me up on a rock." (I don't know how to "know no fear." In fact, I am full of fears. But HE isn't afraid. To me, the rock is my belief in the delivering power of Jesus Christ. And I certainly do want to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, and to ask him to keep my eyes focused on the beauty of the Lord. No matter what's going on in the outside world!)

I can't do much to change my future or the state of the world. But, oh how I can keep praying for God's mercy, his love, his keeping-power. God knows the future. And he isn't afraid for our present or for our future. He says whenever we see bad things happening, to "look up, for your redemption draws near."

A WAKE UP CALL?

2011-05-11T15:44:00.000-07:00

I have been much concerned and in prayer about a report on the "News from
Israel" website about 3 weeks ago, and later from a Christian organization,
that there are many sites on Facebook calling for an intifada against Israel
on May 15. They are written in Arabic, so most people don't know about
them. But the statement has been made by these sources that millions of
Arabs have signed up to participate in protest demonstrations against
Israel. I don't know exactly what this means, but it could be very ominous.

The bin Laden affair, which happened later, has led to more strident
threats of retaliation against the US. Will we have catastrophes and
demonstrations on our own soil? And Hamas is joining Fatah, but the
former's vow still is to wipe out Israel and the Jews. Yet the rest of the
world is trying to force Israel to negotiate with Hamas-Fatah-PLO to
partition the land. How can Israel be expected to agree to give part of its
land to a group that has pledged the Jews' complete extinction in the entire
land? And why has the media remained silent about the May 15 (uprising?)?
If we had an arch-enemy who demanded part of the US for their homeland and
had vowed to extinguish us, we wouldn't passively accept it and bow to the
"whatevers". So why think Israel hasn't a right to defend itself against
sworn arch-enemies?

My belief is that we're seeing the books of Daniel and Revelation come
alive in the daily news. So many have taken those words as allegories, or
said they shouldn't even be in the Bible. But every time I pick up a
newspaper lately, I can see the words of Daniel and Revelation starting to
come true. I believe the world is shaping up for the Great Tribulation.
Maybe not starting May 15, but soon.

What will we all do if this becomes a time of war and terror? A time when
we don't feel at all safe? A time when the things we say or do can cause us
to become targets? When the old familiar habits and ways no longer get us
through? What will you do? What will I do? Will we turn to God and
entrust ourselves to him? I think the day is coming when we can't trust
government to help us or be on our side. We're already seeing that the
world leaders don't really know what to do. And partisanship and bickering
and anger and self-interest seem more important than being for the "common
good of the people."

I have to cling to this:
"Though an host should encamp against us, my heart shall know no fear;
Though war should rise up against us, in this will I be confidant: That I
may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the
beauty of the Lord and to enquire in his temple. ...In the secret places
of his pavillion will he hide me, and set me up on a rock." (I don't know
how to "know no fear." In fact, I am full of fears. But HE isn't afraid.
To
me, the rock is my belief in the delivering power of Jesus Christ. And I
certainly do want to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life,
and to ask him to keep my eyes focused on the beauty of the Lord. No matter
what's going on in the outside world!)

I can't do much to change my future or the state of the world. But, oh how
I can keep praying for God's mercy, his love, his keeping-power. God knows
the future. And he isn't afraid for our present or for our future. He says
whenever we see bad things happening, to "look up, for your redemption draws
near."

Letter to a Friend

2011-05-09T11:46:00.000-07:00

I wrote the following to an e-mail friend who is struggling with too many issues, too many hurts.

If you're hurting, crying, wondering what to do next, perhaps this letter also will be helpful to you.

Dear (friend),

I want to say, "Don't forget about God! Don't forget about Jesus Christ." If there's any way you can do it at all, please read the New Testament, or at least a little Scripture verse booklet.

This is a wicked, weary, angry, sore world. Governments don't know what to do. So many places are at war, or struck with disasters. So many people are hurting, suffering, crying. Our leaders and those who want to be compassionate feel "stuck", not knowing what to do. Some people are acting as though everything will be back to normal soon, and going their merry way with big plans and self-interests. And then there are others afraid, demoralized, and despairing.

God told us in the Bible that there would be seasons like the one our world is going through now. But he also said "When you see these things happen, look up, for your redemption draws near." I believe we must keep our eyes fixed on Jesus Christ our Savior. God is still in control, even though it looks so bad.

We tend to think him being in control means we will sail through life without any hard times. But that's not the way life is. It wasn't so in the days when the Bible was written, and it isn't so today. He allows trials into our lives in order to toughen us to be able to get through life.

There are a few verses I keep making myself repeat when I feel discouraged.

Paul wrote, "I do that which I don't want to do, and don't do what I ought to do. Oh, wretched man [or woman, too] that I am, who will save me? Thanks be to God for the unspeakable gift of Christ Jesus."

"Long ago before He made the world, God chose us for his very own; he decided then to make us holy in his eyes -- without a single fault! -- we who stand before him covered with his love."

"[God] Who having delivered us from so great a death, and DOES deliver us, and I trust will deliver us YET [all the way through life].

"Does your heart condemn you? God is greater than your heart. And if your heart condemns you not, it shall be well with you."

(I take that to mean that even when we feel we don't measure up, God is big enough to declare us "not guilty" if we come to him in repentance, desiring him to keep on loving-protecting-comforting-guiding-helping us. So then God loves us in a way that we need not condemn ourselves. So through him, it will go well with us.) Maybe not the kind of wellness that we think of as happiness and la-tee-da land, but he promises that he "guarantees to bring us to himself." And that if we don't reject him, but keep asking him to transform us to be the persons he planned to make us be, we'll live forever with him. Forever with Jesus, in eternity. And only the "blink of an eye" down here on earth in this life, compared with "forever." Even though the way seems long and full of toil and tears.

I'm so glad I don't have to bring myself to God, earn my way to heaven. No, I could never do that. But HE is ABLE. And He is WILLING! I must believe that, cling to his promise for that, even when I don't feel it. Because he said he wouldn't ever leave us or forsake us. And if I'm wrong about that, then there would be no hope of my making it. But thankfully, we not only have the Bible, but the witness of many, many people who have clung to him, that his word is true and THE CHRIST is real.

Love in His Beautiful Name, and with many Prayers for you, (my friend),

The volatile Mid-East

2011-05-04T16:45:00.000-07:00

Two Christian news sources I get online say that there are sites on Facebook (in Arabic, so nobody else seems to know about them) that have collected millions of signatures promising to assemble huge demonstrations protesting against Israel as a nation, on May 15. The rest of the media sources seem to totally ignore this issue. And I haven't seen anything saying WHAT is supposed to happen on that day. We only know that a lot of folks claim they want to wipe Israel off the map. And we know how quickly the rebellion rose up in the rest of the mid-East.

The US is vulnerable. If we don't support Israel, we're going against God's promise of the land to the Israelites. "God blesses those who bless Israel." Can we expect to escape the judging of the nations? And if we do support it, we are considered by strong forces as a part of "the great Satan", just as Israel. But who is standing in the gap to intercede? Why are the Christians so silent? Why are so many of us still talking about little things, and proclaiming that we'll carry out all our God-sized dreams (by which they don't mean suffering or tribulation or distress).

David Wilkerson, a prominent evangelist and pastor of Times Square church in NYC -- the founder of Teen Challenge and World Challenge -- who was killed in a car wreck a few days ago -- re-issued a prophecy not long before his death that soon there would be such provocation against Israel that it would (ultimately) bring on Armageddon.

On the one hand, people can say we don't know the time-line. And that's true. But Jesus also said we would see the signs, and should look up "for our redemption draws nigh." At the moment, to me the signs look ominous.

This is a prophecy David has repeated at intervals for almost 30 years. Some of us originally believed it would be much sooner. But later he said he thought that God had been merciful and was giving America and the world more time to repent. But we do know the Mid-East is totally volatile. Many, many of his prophecies have already happened, such as the war in Kuwait, and the earthquake in Japan.

There's such a need to ask God's protection over us (all of us) -- and praying that his perfect will may be done.
Even so, Lord Jesus, come.

Worth More Than Five Cents

2011-04-25T20:26:00.000-07:00

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WORTH MORE THAN FIVE CENTS

Junk -- gleaned from a rummage sale, 5 cents apiece. (The styrofoam snowball and fabric swatches counted as a set, for 5 cents.)

But oh, what beauty
and scratch-the-itch desire for creativity!
Worth? Immeasurable,
Highly treasurable!
What may happen to these parts?
Ah, re-purposed arts!

Garlands of cats to be seen,
Are leftovers from Halloween;
But black cats endear other seasons as well.
Or I could re-cut them into (what?) else?
Or glue on shiny
Colored thingies –
Off to a good start
Of other garlanded pop-art.

(Or fashion them into silhoettes
Of seaweed for fishy themed vignettes --)
As also true with the black glittery tinsel:
Underwater plant-feathers or pencils.
With tinsel I might dress a doll,
Or re-edge a fluffy shawl,
Or fashion garland in shape of a heart,
Or frame a picture – is that art!

Hand-mirror, badly abused;
Reflective surface crazed, confused.
Patch the cracked frame,
Paint it – sure, I’m game!
I envision gluing
Bright beads wooing
Delight; perhaps I’d paint some lines
Or maybe sparkly Valentines,
But I’d let the mirror’s still-shiny parts
Glint through the masque of art.

Styrofoam would-be Christmas-ball-bedecked,
But the cloth is only pinned in place, not wrecked
For styrofoam snowball --always useful –
Or to make a doll’s face sweet and truthful.
Fabric swatches’ jewel tones
Are just so re-arrangement-prone;
Rows of squares, or fans, to start.
I crave many repositioned arts!

And so I thank the God of life
Who lends imagination to my life;
His God-image set in me
Bursts forth in my creativity.
Through my pastimes I make beauty,
And see the awesomeness of God, not duty!

(c) 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is linked to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
On, In and Around Mondays

And to Laura Boggess' site "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

A Place in my Heart for Prayer

2011-04-17T15:08:00.000-07:00

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from my heart to yours: a prayer

I believe with all my heart that God loves you dearly.

He watches over you tenderly.

He says that he'll never leave nor forsake you,

never take away his comfort from you.

He'll never let go of your hand!

He'll equip you to take your stand

And walk with you hand in hand

Until you've reached safely

His blessed Promised Land.

Isn't that a great promise for you?

Oh God, hear the cry of my friends' hearts. Send your presence in such a strong way that they may feel you with them, in their hearts. Show them your great mercy. You, Jesus Christ, are "The Way, The Truth, and The Light." You are LIFE.

Thank you for never letting go of my friends who call on your name. Protect their spirits, heal the broken hearts, comfort their minds and keep them clear of confusion. Send them your own dear self, you as Jesus and Messiah, to be their deliverer.

I speak a word of hope into each life today. I speak words of renewal and restoration. l ask you to revive godly relationships and mend family ties. Pour out on these, my friends, your inner peace. And clear a way before them that cuts through the darkness of this troubled world. Thank you, Lord, for being the true healer and guide.

In Jesus Christ the Savior's Wonderful Name, Amen.

(c) 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone",
On, In and Around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring,"
Playdates with God

A Place to Gather Sweet Pink to the Last Drop

2011-04-11T12:48:00.000-07:00

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A Place to Gather Sweet Pink to the Last Drop

Blottings

Whole strawberries, from my freezer, will make a tasty fruit choice for my lunch. Eaten when scarcely-thawed, the berries are delightful little popsickles. And when the bag has been emptied----

Here I am, blotting up the strawberry juice
From the inside of a small bag,
Using a paper towel.

The beadlets are small and few-ish; isn’t it foolish
To waste my time
Collecting tiny tidbits of liquid COLOR
From a bag I’m going to throw away?
Perhaps others may see this as against-the-rule-ish!
But my artist’s mind spies hopeful sign.

I’ve drizzled Kool-Aid over damp papers;
Daubed some towels with house paint;
Smeared cranberry puree
Or stewed tomatoes
Or dotted beet juice from bottle rings.
But I don’t have any strawberry tone yet:
A delicately pinkish touch of cool-ish.
Oh, delightsome color!

I hope to use the towels as backgrounds
For some sort of artwork designs.
God the Creator of beauty, thank you
For this opportunity to praise you.
Oh Lord, you really are JEWEL-ish!

copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to post a link on your site, but please, no copying without permission.

This post is also linked to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
"On, In, and Around Mondays"

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"
"Playdates with God"

Winter-Killed Vines are Art, Too!

2011-04-11T12:41:00.000-07:00

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Winter-killed Vines Are Art, Too.

My neighbor has a lovely rock garden
Which is only visible in winter.
Its moss-covered rocks, how dear!
For most of the year, nasturtiums wind luxuriantly,
Covering the bumps of stone.
Gone now are the leaves and flowers;
Winter has freeze-dried the tangled vines,
Leaving an ugly mat of fiber-stems
(Some are twelve or fifteen feet in length),
No longer green with succulence, but
Made pliable by workings of the weather.

My neighbor is elderly and can’t get about very well.
I want to help her, do her some sort of favor.
And so I offer to pull the nasturtium vines,
A few, a little bit at a time.
(I also have an ulterior motive: I want to try an experiment:
Using crusty, fibrous stems to adorn some of my Nature Art.)

Clambering about amidst the rocks
Was harder work than I thought.
It took many days to gather up the vines.
And then I had a mess inside my house,
As I draped and wound the stems to dry.
Layer upon layer, with newspapers in between.
And cardboards and real boards here and there
In sandwich style.
And on the top of several piles I set my weights:
Lots of thick books; a very heavy kitten-sized rock,
And even my big bags of kitty litter and cat chow.

And now, after a couple weeks of waiting,
They’re dry, the stems are dry!
Matted, some of them;
Twisty, all of them.
So this part of the experiment is done.
But there are other steps ahead.

It will be more work by far to glue the flattened vines,
A section at a time, to backings,
To shape ponder-ful designs.
And to dye their ugly dun in fetching, artish hues.
It would be quicker to simply paint
Some scrawly, burly lines.
But this part, too, (after many days)
Will culminate my art experiment.

There is such potential for me to worship God
As I use my imagination in the creation of art.
He, the Creator of All Things, created me
To envision new ideas and works.
(And the Master of the Universe already knows
How he will work out his own art experiment
Through/for/within me.

copyright 2011 by Marilee Miller Feel free to post links on your site;
but please, no copying without permission.

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone"
On, in, and around Mondays

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring"
Playdates with God

ANGELFISH -- AND GOD-IN-ME

2011-03-21T18:01:00.000-07:00

Angelfish, in bright colors.
No, the drawings haven’t been colored yet —
Except in my imagination.
But they will be!

Lazy day, quiet space;
I’m taking time to rest and pray.
And drawing angelfish
Simply relaxes me.

No preoccupation with small details,
They’re just one step above doodling.
But bright artwork, they will be!

Someday my fleet of angelfish
Will become a finished design.
Oh, yes, they will be!

And someday my bright colors
Will all be colored in, by God.
And I will show forth, with gladness,
His glory and signs of his interest.
What a day that will be,
When I become who He
Wills me to be!

copyright (c) 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is also shared with L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone",
On, In, and Around Mondays

and

Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring," Playdates with God

Speckled, or Spectacular?

2011-02-21T15:00:00.000-08:00

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SPECKLED, or SPECTACULAR?

Here I am in the basement, painting cardboards with
Light-turquoise house paint: latex.
Wanting to creating an aquarium artwork.
This paint the nearest shade I have
To suggest a watery scene.

I once did some art (watercolors) with batik dye
Pigment sprinkled into the wet color.
The powder bled into the damp; it spread tiny rings.
Lovely, sprinkly, speckly, dreamy effect.
So, having recently re-discovered my cache
Of almost forgotten art supplies,
I think of glorious flecks enhancing even house paint.

Old batik dye powder, in closed plastic bags.
I assume, naively, there will still be fine powder.
But the batik is no longer just dust. It’s lumps!
And I discover also that latex paint
Dries far faster than watercolors.
Sigh. Got to move quickly.
Why didn’t I explore the package
Before I was ready to anoint a page?
Nothing to do but drizzle clumps on,
Drifting them through my fingers.
The extra fluff kernels won’t dissolve enough
To stick to the fast drying paint.
The painted cardboard suggests no airy bubbling
Watery scene. It’s ugly speckles.

When paint fully dries, I shake off excess
Of batik-dye clumps.
I brush away more, and more, indigo-ing
My fingers, along with several paper towels.
The dye is soft enough to smear and smear.
The surface will be a different aquarium setting;
Not idyll or dreamy watery scene.
But it will do! Yes, now I can paint on the fish!
Different fish than I’d envisioned.
Maybe even have to speckle the fish----
Yes. A speck-tacular work of art!

Am I like the lumpy batik dye,
Not a grand fine powder for ethereal use,
But a speckled blotch, a lumpy mess?
God is greater. He may have to shake me.
Break me. Brush away the lumps.
I trust him to make of my dots and smears
His own spectacular, artsome being.
Different, maybe, than I expected,
But still inspired by HIM.

© 2011 by Marilee Miller (photos and text)

By all means, link to this; please, no copying without permission.

This post is also linked to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone", On, In, or Around Mondays,

and Laura Boggess' "The Wellspring", Playdates with God.

Kool-Aid Moments

2011-02-14T16:08:00.000-08:00

Note: the originals were all rendered in unsweetened Kool-aid powder sprinkled on soaked, or on damp, paper towels (or in one instance, on waxed paper). However, some of the images have been color-enhanced or re-combined digitally.

This post is also in honor of L. L. Barkat's "On, In, and Around Mondays"
http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2011/02/on-in-and-around-mondays-keeping-phrase.html

and Laura Boggess' "Playdates with God"
http://lauraboggess.blogspot.com/2011/02/playdates-trampoline.html

Peanut Shells

2011-02-07T20:49:00.000-08:00

PEANUT SHELLS and...

There’s a tall utility pole in the parking strip near the entrance to my driveway. At certain times of year the crows offer special air flights to the walnuts that grow on a tree several blocks away. From this high perch in front of my place, these canny scavengers drop their plunder down onto the hard street below – where impact cracks open the nuts. In other seasons, they find other tidbits. When they mount the transformer near the top of the pole, not too many of their fellows can get close enough to steal the booty.

The last couple of weeks, I’ve been finding pieces of peanut shells lying in the street . Very empty shells! But unlike walnuts, peanuts don’t grow in our geographical zone! Besides, I can’t really think of a near neighbor who would buy peanuts and put them out for any critters, unless they think the small birds like them. But to feed the crows and squirrels? They are considered rather a nuisance in these parts.

However, now I’m finding peanut shells in the back yard under the myrtle tree. Many more than the small offering under the power pole out front. It’s true that crows might have dropped them in the yard. But a fall to the soft grass wouldn’t crack open the nuts. These have been pecked into fragments.

I know that a cheerful, fearless squirrel lives somewhere on our street. Occasionally I see him scampering right up the middle of the street. I’ve never seen him in my back yard. But he may be the seed-eater-in-residence.

Along with the peanut shells are other seed shells. Some, translucent and empty, look like squash seeds. No one around close has a garden. This is really late in the year for garden squash. Does the seed-pecker carry in the seeds from afar? Or maybe some flower seedpods look a bit like small, unsucculent squash seeds.

The cast off pods bring me a sense of discovery, and mystery. And looking at the husks lying on the ground, I perceive another sign of God’s provision. If he sees the fall of the sparrows, as the Bible says, surely he sees the scampering squirrel or the audacious crow. As I speculate on what creature might have left the shells, I am reminded that God also cares for ME.

A chance to seek out-of-doors treasures gives me an excuse to get out of the house and wander around in my own yard again and again. I explore the green growing things and dropped flowing things – and tenderness floods my soul. How I thank the Lord for little surprises.

“While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest shall not pass away.” Nor will he cease to provide for the animals, and ME. I can certainly praise God for that!
==

This post is also in honor of L. L. Barkat's blog invitational, "On, In, and Around Mondays."

Why Do We Talk About Weather, But Not Life?

2011-01-28T18:10:00.000-08:00

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A recent post by David, at Red Letter Believers [http://redletterbelievers.blogspot.com/] (January 26, 2011 post) wonders why “Everyone wants to talk about the weather, but no one wants to talk about life.”

Why do we talk about the weather instead of talking about life?

Maybe because the weather is a “safe”, neutral subject. We probably won’t have anyone get mad at us, tell us we’re stupid or wrong, when we discuss the weather. It’s a safe way to have a brief and sociable connection with other people, to not just have to stand dumbly, or pass each other by trapped in our own worlds, not even acknowledging the existence of others.

“How are you?” A rhetorical question when people meet casually. It demands a set answer: “I’m fine.” This is a bridge to begin a casual conversation. From there, the dialog can move on. But it only moves on if the persons play by the rules of casual conversation. If a person answers that they’re not fine, inquirers may get a look on their faces, showing that they didn’t want “a real answer”. They just wanted to follow the acceptable social introduction. And then be free get on with the day’s agenda, without being deeply involved with the moods or fears or feelings or thoughts of others.

Many of us have learned that it’s not safe to talk about our lives. We’re told our politics are all wrong. So are our ideas, our thoughts. Maybe we’re too fanatical about our religion. Or too intense when confronted with attitudes or lifestyles we dislike. Or maybe, if we were “real,” if we shared what we were really thinking and going through, the other person would have to take some responsibility for acknowledging our “individuality,” our personhood.

Sometimes there can be hurtful results if we talk about our lives – to unsympathetic people. We never know when others will resent having to deal with issues they hadn’t bargained for. They might not want to hear an “organ recital” about our health, or a tale of woe about joblessness, wrong relationships, or depression. (And some people do wallow so much on the negatives of life that others don’t know how to respond to them.)

Some of us learn quickly that it’s not okay for us to admit we’re “not okay” – for such admission often makes others uncomfortable. (How sad!) And then there’s the other side. Some DO discuss life, but the topics are toxic (bad politics, faulty government, failed relationships, stupid people, the faults in others’ religions, the way their neighbors ought to act). In that case, their anger and bitterness may rip at us.

I think we all need wisdom in how to be good listeners without getting too many of our own buttons pushed. We all need to interact at some level with other persons. But we also have our own lives to live, problems and fears and discouragements. We need the privilege of expressing ourselves as we “really feel”. On the other hand, we don’t need to over-burden those who might have the capacity to show us caring, or to be enriched in their own lives by being compassionate to us. Like most of the rest of the daily duties and getting on with our days, “talking about life” can be stressful, can be a bombshell, or it can be a healing. It depends on the attitude and response of others.

Many would probably “talk about life” if such a discussion were more acceptable. But many of us also need the stamina not to be upset by those who are babbling brooks of words that don’t touch on (what to us, are) important matters.

A pastor wrote recently of his congregation, during their fellowship time after the service, talking about what Christ was doing in their lives today. I would like to participate in something like that. But I’ve never seen that happen, sadly. It appears that many people can leave a stirring, thoughtful worship service or a meeting meant to point out Christ being the answer to deep human needs – and instantly dissolve into chatter about finding a beauty parlor, getting, new shoes, or a list of favorite restaurants. Not that such talk is always “taboo,” but rather, that when some of us leave Christian meetings, we would like the privilege of meditating on, or sharing about our encounters with Jesus Christ.

Do we leave Christ at the door when we bid goodbye after church? Do we leave Christ on the doorstoop after we finish our morning devotional time? And, those of us who don’t want to leave Christ behind -- are we being enabled to talk about him and about us? Are we finding “strength and help in time of need”?

Lisa Copen, founder of Rest Ministries, an internet site dedicated to the needs of those with chronic health problems, shared in a recent video about the consequences of her diminishing health. The medications she takes have difficult-to-live-with side effects. She hurts too much. Life isn’t “fun”, or easy. She admits she feels frightened and overwhelmed. She shows her distress and her tears, the frustration of not knowing what to do. She has so many regrets about not being able to “do” what she believes she ought to be doing.

Since I have some chronic health issues of my own, I could relate to what Lisa said. How glad I was that none of the commenters to her blog post blasted her. Each comment encouraged and built her up, exhorting her to look to Jesus Christ the Comforter. Many other participants told their own stories of growing discouraged over their lives. So yes, when there’s a safe place from which to share, at least some people DO “talk about life”. I hope their honesty and vulnerability will let those whose lives seem more simple, to think deeply about all the human needs in this world today.

Perhaps God has me, or you, or someone close to us, to pray today, or listen today, or give of our time, attention, money, or empathy. May we all learn to be aware of the undercurrents in other people’s lives. Perhaps some of us need the lesson reinforced that even when we “can’t do anything more,” it’s safe to entrust ourselves into the arms of the loving Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ our Savior and Lord.

See Lisa’s video and blog at
http://restministries.com/2011/01/27/latte-with-lisa-completely-unfiltered

BIRDS from black paper

2011-01-23T20:16:00.001-08:00

The moon is a netting,
The sky is cold,
The shadows are getting
Dusky and bold.
The birds are letting
Their dance-legs fold.

Don’t be forgetting
An artist’s mold:
Unplanned begetting
From paper scraps rolled.
My eye saw birds settling
On ornament, gold.

I can stop fretting
When crafts are told;
For I’m betting
Cut-outs, birds, will take hold!
Silhoettes’ debting,
New ideas from old!

“Make something
Out of nothing”:
Oh, that’s art’s “fling” –
Isn’t my creating –
Just “everything”?

1/23/2011

One Day at a Time

2011-01-10T12:04:00.001-08:00

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ONE DAY AT A TIME

I'm an artist with big dreams of creating beautiful projects. Yet I often wonder why bother to push myself to create “hands-on” artworks, when after they’re done, they’ll simply reside in a box, or on a shelf? I have no outlet for such things -- no one but me would be likely to see them. And I have the ability to see so many creative images in my mind's eye. Maybe just thinking about artworks would be good enough? No, that isn’t good enough! But sometimes I have to settle for that. Being “content in all things.” My health issues keep me from knowing if I can do ANYTHING on a given day-----

But I do have some wonderful craft supplies that stay on my dining room table, waiting invitingly.

One day not long ago, I did get a tiny twig glued on a jar lid I'm making into an ornament. The next day, a couple of dabs of glue attached two pistachio nut shells I’d painted into ladybugs a few days before that. Today, maybe I'll get a teeninsy frond of Spanish moss dyed a brighter color (so it will show up better), and flattened somewhat, so its fragile ends can be glued to the ornament.

But if the work doesn't happen today, maybe next week. And if not at all, then I will have had the pleasure of dreaming about making art. And if I can dream of doing art, maybe I can even dream of a serious painting instead of just little dabblings. Maybe paint the line of a tree, the hint of a cloud, one day at a time? Thank you, Lord, for the ability to go on hoping my dreams may come true.

Note: I first wrote this as a comment on another person’s blog post. I see that it has a lot more to do with my own feelings than with the other one’s ponderings. I hope she won’t mind if post it here, as well.

I’ve also linked it to L. L. Barkat’s “On… Mondays.”

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2011/01/on-in-and-around-mondays-kitchen-table.html

A PLACE FOR PAINTING LADYBUGS

2011-01-03T15:09:00.000-08:00

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PAINTING LADYBUGS

A crafter sees possibility
In items others might toss away.
Pistachio nut shells break apart
Into even halves, delighting me.
After I’ve eaten out the tidbit nutmeat,
I’m left with thought of pleasurable activity.

Nut shells, no liability;
They will satisfy my need to play.
The idea of making ladybugs
Surely does appeal to me.
Painting ladybugs, won’t that be neat?
I’m left with the practice of pleasurable activity.

Painting ladybugs stirs my creativity,
(I have this strange proclivity
To “make something out of nothing”, every day.)
Likewise, the God of the universe is busy
Making value out of the lowliness in me.
He stirs up within me his own fragrance sweet.
I’m left with my transformation by his pleasurable activity.

copyright (c) 2011 by Marilee Miller

This post is linked to L. L. Barkat's blog, Seedlings in Stone,
"On, In, or Around Mondays"
http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2011/01/on-in-and-around-mondays-edge-of-new.html

A Place of Sight

2010-12-07T15:14:00.000-08:00

There isn’t a picture to go with this post. Because –
David, over at Red Letter Believers, asks, “If my sight were gone, what would I miss?”

Pictures, that’s what I would miss. That’s what you would miss.

If you could access this blog at all, you wouldn’t be able to read it yourself. A speech reader would recite it in its droning voice. There would be no chance to experience the soul/mind/heart-comfort of curling up with a good book. The scenes that “move” others would be a mystery or a jumble, rather than a glimpse of majesty or contentment.

I am stirred by the sight of –
Incredible sunsets, sunrises, mountains, valleys, plants and flowers and trees, rivers and creeks and ponds and seas, birds, animals, people. The sun, the moon, the stars. The ground beneath my feet. At the sight of these things, gratitude wells up in my heart. I “feel better” for having seen them. I’m drawn to my Creator and Maker, God, who has made the universe, the Earth, humankind –
And ME!

More pictures I would miss –
Artworks of every sort, fashioned in actuality after being conceived as pictures in the mind.
Blessed houses, unusual (or at least, solid) architecture, street signs to tell me where to go; murals on walls, the many ornaments which decorate my life, my home.
The trusting glow of my cat’s eyes meeting mine squarely when I speak to her.
The wondrous smiles of delighted children. The tender looks of friends or family.
Body language that tells how a person really sees me, though speech may be couched differently.
The texture and color of food.
The beat of butterfly wings; puffy white contrails from jets overhead; the way colors come together to add zest to our days.
The expressions and gestures of people who minister life and blessing to me/us in visible and invisible ways.

I hope, though, that it’s true, what they say –
That with the loss of one of our senses, the others become more highly developed.

Also, I hope the images cast on the screen of my inner mind would not distort from my forgetting how to see.

The one thing that I would ask not to lose sight of –
Is my friendship with God.
Sighted or sightless, I would want to become ever more dependent on him;
Ever more like a trusting child,
Ever more receiving his insights to guide my life and thoughts,
Ever more basking in the realization of his great unconditional love,
Ever more praising him with gratitude for the life he has given me.
His life dwells within me --
For he says he created me in the image of God.
And by his indwelling, blinded or seeing,
I shall live and walk in his light!

Copyright 2010 by Marilee Miller

This post is entered in L L Barkat's "On, In, and Around Mondays", at
http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/12/on-in-and-around-mondays-red-ribbon.html

David's post is at
http://redletterbelievers.blogspot.com/2010/12/if-my-sight-were-gone-what-would-i-miss.html

T H A N K S

2010-11-27T11:27:00.000-08:00

THANKS.

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For the power staying on during the cold weather,
And thus, a safe warm house --
For the quiet morning and prospects of a peaceful day--
For the nourishing food that I will enjoy today, the flavors and textures
And eye-appeal (and tummy-comfort) of each food variety --
For a good time of rest, and good heart-preparations –
And a good meeting-with-You --
Oh Lord, I give thanks.
With a deep spirit of thanksgiving,
I will always praise your name unstintingly, unceasingly!

SUMMER MEETS WINTER

2010-11-23T19:38:00.001-08:00

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Summer meets winter

In this fair and temperate clime
The rose of summer blooms till wintertime;
And hardy fuschia tall stalks climb
Until the first killing frost calls, “time”.
Cold is coming, I hear on the news.
I pick two small boquets past season’s prime,
But Pink Peace rose is always sublime;
And garlands of fuschias can be a pastime
When their glow washes mind with deep red rhyme.

And yes, cold came, as was told on the news!

Beauty of snow, a rarity here;
Gleaming on pink or red blooms to cheer.
That’s the end of my garden this year, I fear.
But roses and fuschias will reappear
For certain, next year!

God, create within me a temperate clime
Where my rose of summer-life blooms till wintertime;
And when cold snaps swoop over me,
May I be resurrected by Divine Energy!
Thank you for Jesus Christ’s good news.

My soul’s winter meets summer every life-year.

copyright 2010 by Marilee Miller

By all means, post a link to this site. But please, no copying for public use except by permission.

This post is linked to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone" blog,
"On, In, and Around Mondays"
http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-in-and-around-mondays-peaceful-path.html

THE "SEND-OFF"

2010-11-19T10:59:00.000-08:00

L. L. Barkat invited several of her online friends to share in a round-robin review of her book, “God in the Yard.” We are a far-flung group, geographically, and not necessarily having any previous contact with one another. The same book was passed along. Each person kept it a month and then mailed it on to the next reader. Each reviewer included a brief personal note to the new recipient, thus establishing a sense of “community”. Here are the photos of my “send-off” to the next reader on Laura’s list.

A REVIEW OF "GOD IN THE YARD"

2010-11-09T13:04:00.000-08:00

bark
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Marilee
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This is a review of the book “God in the Yard,” by L. L. Barkat.

Barkat had a time of feeling “pinched in this life.” Seeking rest and re-focus and renewal of heart and mind and work, Barkat committed to spending time in her yard every day for a year. Looking at the same scene over and over. But trying to see it differently each time. Drinking in the lessons that Nature could teach her about encountering God’s presence. Seeing shapes, designs, colors, patterns. Hearing swish-swishes and rustles of trees or shrubs. Sometimes, she even tasted natural objects.

She invites others to seek God in the out-of-doors, away from having chores and the obligation “to do”. She needed to just “be”, to drift, see, feel, ponder.

Perhaps not many of Barkat’s readers will actually commit to spending daily time out of doors – especially in winter, or in the midst of rain or wind -- as a spiritual quest for more of God’s presence. But if we are unable to view life from our own yard or a nearby park, we may visit Barkat’s yard through her lilting words of wind and song in the pine tree and thorn bush.

One day, alternately gazing at the maples to the
right and the pine overhead, it occurred to me that
the two grow quite differently. Maples have a Nile-
River-delta thing going on – a trunk that divides
and divides, river to stream to rivulets to sky.
White pine is wheels within wheels. The trunk is
an axle flung straight to heaven and branches
grow out from it like spokes. Each major branch
pokes stiffly outward. Then again, the minor branches
circle it like spokes. And on….

The ceiling of my makeshift temple is vast and
changeable. One morning it is pearls, strung
between the wider universe and me. Another
moment it is pink seashells on ocean foam. At night
it might be cobalt blue I could fall into, never come
home.
…I close my eyes and feel the unexpected
“tip tip” of fine rain pricking my cheeks. Seeds in
white coats try to plant themselves on my arm.
Pine needles use my [tea] cup as a heliport.
The sky is also a sponge that sucks up offerings.
Steam from my mug rises and dissipates. …Clouds
hurry on, kiss and follow currents…

Barkat, who self-styles herself as a “dysfunctional extrovert” (though I see her as far more powerful than that), opens her heart to share how past wounds and family brokenness made her feel responsible for keeping her world running. She concludes that in many ways, her previous experiences disconnected her in-the-present from building trusting, restful relationships with people or with God. She sought, through waiting on God in her yard (and seeing, truly seeking to see him in everything), to become a more open person. Her views of pine trees and birds wheeling and pine needles slithering, led her to the surprising admission of her great grief and loss – giving her a chance to lament her wounds and ask God to open her heart to becoming more trusting, and loving life.

Readers who have experienced deep pain in their lives may find comfort from Barkat’s honesty about her own unhappy child-life-situation. And I appreciated getting to know this other side of the Laura who often presents in her blog a greater sense of being productive and “having it together.” If her story causes us to be angry at, or blame, ourselves for our own negative side or woundedness, why then, we may be sure we need to offer up our entire selves to the ONLY ONE who brings healing, the Master who values us all.

The book also offers questions to ponder for possible directions in our spiritual growth. I have to admit that I didn’t resonate well with the questions – a fact which is probably more due to my own make-up than to the questions themselves. But L, L. admits having questions may be more important than having their
answers. And also invites her audience to disregard questions that don’t apply, and to make our own.

I’m privileged to have been invited to read and review “God in the Yard.” It provided much food for thought. I pray that Laura will continue to grow in the grace of Our Lord. And that, as the time becomes appropriate, she’ll share with us. I pray also that she’ll be able to accept herself just as she is, of value in God’s kingdom because he loves her and chose and called her, and not for “what she can do for him” or her degree of success or productivity in life. And I pray the same prayer for all the rest of us.

SOAP BUBBLES

2010-11-01T13:43:00.000-07:00

photos (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller please link to this post, but no copying without permission

SOAP BUBBLES.
At the sink, washing the dishes again;
But the task is more than just “duty”,
When I am confronted with so much beauty –
Soap bubbles ‘aglisten like droplets of rain.
So fragile, so thin, so poppable now and then,
Yet the scientists dare to call
The sphere the strongest shape of all.
Few objects withstand pressure as well as a ball.
Shimmering rainbows, beadlets that shine,
Lift up my spirits. Oh Lord, I am thine!
Thank you for soap bubbles, my glad booty!
Strengthen me, Savior, to show glory-shine;
Yes, let me bubble forth with your Christlike beauty!
(c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

GOD’S CLOSE UP LENS IMPRINTS ON MY LIFE.
The close up lens on a camera
Does strange, unexpected things
To simple objects like bowl of soap-bubbles;
Yet when I get too near,
Oh, dear!
I’ve an imprint of bubbles
On the lens itself!
An accident, unexpected;
But it’s a delightsome tracery!

God sees me close up,
In a way I can’t view myself.
He must glimpse in me soap bubbles:
When he wipes my tears dry,
I shall know no fear.
How dear!
His power to wash away troubles
Brings cleansing to particles of soap bubbles.
Oh, may I become,
In his time and way,
An imprint of him, his lens illum’ing my life.
I’m not a mere accident, in his view,
But a delightsome tracery!
(c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

SIGNS IN TROUBLED TIMES.
The times seem as popping-prone as mere soap bubbles;
The woes come in copy-tones, in trebles and doubles;
Sometimes I fear coping-gone, toil and troubles.
When and where will hardship end?
Will I crackle-snap into nothingness,
Or crumple under life’s duress?
Or may I, by God’s own grace, quietly bend?
I yield to you, my Maker and Friend.
(c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

“In the world you have tribulation. But be of good cheer;
I have overcome the world.” (Jesus)

By all means, link to this post; but please, no copying without permission.

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This post is in response to L. L. Barkat's "Seedlings in Stone", "On, In, or Around Mondays"

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/11/on-in-and-around-mondays-3-ways-i-quit.html

BLESSINGS OFFERED, BLESSINGS RECEIVED

2010-10-20T20:31:00.001-07:00

At times, my car is a “place”. A place I go----
Well, actually, a necessary place to go in order to get somewhere I need to go, to get something I need to get----
Then is going from place to place, that is, to and from my car, also a “place”? Sometimes my “place” (car + errand-running) becomes a blessing from God, a blessing for others, a blessing to me.

I had found myself singing over and over this morning, “Make Me a Blessing To Someone Today.” (I hadn’t thought of the tune in quite some time!)

A friend called. She wasn’t feeling very strong; asked for my prayers for her strength and energy. She was also bothered because she hadn’t been to see her brother for a while. But neither she nor the brother are able to drive right now. She depends on her family for transportation. But they have so many obligations they can’t always help her.

I offered to drive her to her brother’s (in our same small town). I’m not very strong, so I don’t often promise to help other people. The few past times that I have offered, my friend has turned me down because she knows it takes so much out of me. But I’d had to take some extra medicines a few days back, and was having a good day, so I assured her that I felt like taking her. That I would just drop her off, and come back later for her. And she accepted.

So I picked her up, drove her a mile or so to brother’s house, and back-tracked to the grocery store. Unfortunately, I made a trip for nothing, because that store was out of the special non-fat yogurt I buy. There are only two grocery stores in town, and the other one had discontinued the non-fat version.
I was left with some time on my hands, but not enough to do a lot of errands.

Around the corner a bit from the grocery store is a cabinet-maker’s shop. I’d thought several times of dropping in to see if they ever had any scraps of discarded wood to give away. I wanted some pieces for small plaques, or other craft projects. But that place wasn’t on my regular walking route between shops, so somehow I’d never gotten around to talking to them. So now was the time!

And yes, they did have some scraps – that they were going to burn up. And I got a nice box of small chunks of beautiful wood. (I would have loved to take more. I hated to see the rest burned up; the wood was so fine grained and beautiful. But he only offered me the small box. (And that will last me quite a while!)

So I did get to be an unexpected blessing to someone today. My friend told me that I had no idea how much she appreciated me driving her. Not getting to see her brother had really been weighing her down.

But I feel I received a far greater blessing. For I not only got to see my friend – we aren’t able to get together very often. She had a scripture verse to share with me; and I read her a page from a thoughtful Christian book. And then, as I was returning to my car with the box of wood, a kind stranger at the edge of the store’s parking lot, taking pity on my staggering slow step, offered to carry my box to my car (at the other end of the lot.) Thank you, God, for the times when a car can provide a “visiting place”, a worship-space, a warm embrace, a cheerful face – and then carry me home to contemplate my box of lovely craft supplies. Now, that’s grace! (Unearned favor!)

Grace is something I can really go for!

This post is a response to L. L. Barkat's blog, Seedlings In Stone,
"On, In, and Around Mondays."

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/on-in-and-around-mondays-let-me-place.html

LOOKING FOR A PLACE TO HANG MY HEART.

2010-10-12T17:32:00.000-07:00

LOOKING FOR A PLACE TO HANG MY HEART.

I feel thin and stretched today, from life apart—
Looking for a place to hang my heart.
My mind accepts that God’s still near –
So why does inner self feed on fear?

Like carefree grasses, I would reach—
Until I touched my Lord to beseach.
I’d like to soar with God of blue sky—
Or like bauble-balloons, learn to FLY!

Dear God, I offer ME as a brand new start!
Looking for a place to hang my heart.
Though I feel you not, I accept the silence;
Help me, Lord, to keep my balance.

In gratitude my voice shall raise—
To be a sacrifice of praise.
You are my place. You are my heart!
I bless you: you never really depart.

copyright 2010 by Marilee Miller

By all means, link to the article and photos of artwork, but please, no public displaying without permission.

This post is in response to L L Barkat's "On, In, and Around Mondays."

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/on-in-and-around-mondays-dragon-scales.html

HISTORICAL STREET-SCENE MURAL

2010-10-05T12:47:00.001-07:00

MURAL

Mural 10-4-10

In a leisurely business district of a quite small town, there’s a place where one can walk in the present day
while keeping company with the past. For on the large wall of a vintage building, a historical mural depicts the main street of this town a century ago. The painting, created in 1995, is a composite of early-day storefronts inspired by several actual old photos, peopled with period-piece figures, with a few extra touches added by artist Lee Wilder Snider. Snider created a sense of deep perspective on a flat building, and merged the painted corner buildings to intersect with the present-standing building fronts on a real street at right angles to the mural wall. A very intriguing and well-done artwork!

Where I’m standing to take the photos, sometimes I have to wait for a car to pass by on the street. Occasionally a car obliterates the mural view as it drives into my picture while I’m snapping the shutter.

There’s a smattering of pedestrian traffic, as well. People on their way to a shop, or the post office, or returning to their cars in a parking lot. Among those who mosey by, are two elderly men (at individual times). At sight of me taking pictures of the mural, each one comments to me: “Isn’t that the most beautiful painting you ever saw?” (They don’t even know they’ve repeated the same words. And I, why I bask in the fact that my camera makes a conversational door; other people would normally just pass me by, their thoughts sealed in their own worlds.) And I rejoice, also, to know that the mural “speaks” to others as deeply as it speaks to me. It’s a part of the town pride and joy!

May I let this mural, created to satisfy an artistic instinct -- and to bring others pleasure and a sense of belonging -- remind me of God’s joy in his people. May my photographic fulfillment, and my momentary encounter of community through the comments of others, motivate me to accept that He has created us with intricacies and special touches to give us a perspective to raise our hearts to him, and to touch others’ lives with blessings. The Bible says “the Lord’s portion is his people.” And that we, his people, are “gifts of God that he delights in.” We, as persons, and our accomplishments done “as unto the Lord” (even if not everyone knows they’re working for such reasons!), are a lively and inspiring work-in-progress.

Am I able to picture myself as one small part of God’s great, unified mural? How may I share that vision with others to bring them news of His good pleasure?
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artist Lee Wilder Snider 1995
photos Marilee Miller 2010
Feel free to link to this post, but please, no copying of text or photos for public use without permission. (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

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This posting is inspired by L. L. Barkat's invitational, "On, in and Around Mondays."

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/10/on-in-and-around-mondays-saturday.html

STREET-SCENE MURAL

2010-10-05T12:17:00.001-07:00

artist Lee Wilder Snider 1995
photos by Marilee Miller 2010
Feel free to link to this post, but please no copying for public use without permission.

STREET-SCENE MURAL: DETAILS

2010-10-05T12:06:00.000-07:00

artist Lee Wilder Snider 1995
photos by Marilee Miller 2010
Feel free to link to this post, but please no copying for public use without permission.

SOUR KOOL AID SWEETENED BY GOD'S MERCY

2010-09-27T14:41:00.000-07:00

A week and a half ago.
In my kitchen, unpacking the groceries I just brought home.
But when I’ve finished putting things away, I realize –
Hey! Where’s my Kool Aid?

Bought 3 packages (3 flavors, unsweetened.) Intending to use as flavorings for plain gelatine.
(Well, maybe not Jello, but not so plain by the time I add the flavors and Splenda sweetener according to my taste – and milk instead of half the watery liquid called for.)
But eventually I remember I haven’t found any Kool Aid. Hmm. The packages are small.
Did they hide at the bottom of one of the now-stashed-away bags?
I get out the flimsy plastic sacks again, prodding and feeling and looking inside. No Kool Aid.
The extra bread, still posing in a bag, will go to the freezer. But no Kool Aid is hiding there.
Cereal boxes (extra for later) and 6 oversized fat yams, still occupy their grocery bags.
I pull out enough cereal boxes to see the sack’s bottom. And finally, I shuffle the top yams.
No Kool Aid. The sales slip shows that I paid for them!
But are my little packets still slinking on the clerk’s counter?
Tomorrow, I’ll need to go and ask.

Many, many days later.

Vows for my tomorrows have a way of discombobulating.
I don’t make it back to the store to ask if lost can be found.
A number of days later, I no longer feel comfortable asking a clerk,
“Did you find my packages of Kool Aid about two weeks ago?”
While erranding at another store, I just buy three more packages
(each a different flavor) of unsweetened Kool Aid.

And now I can make my gelatine dessert. Grape, I think.
I get the gelatine and Kool Aid heated, dissolved.
Looks strong! Will be good, I’m sure.
But the milk will curdle it if I add it now to this hot liquid.
So let me pop the bowl in the refrigerator,
Cool my concoction, then add the Splenda and the milk.

Meanwhile, maybe there’s time to pick up my e-mail!

Oops. The siren song of technology!
Meanwhile, a technicality! -- the fridge keeps working.
Now the gelatine is a sort of limp Knox blox, missing half
Its intended liquid, and too congealed to add the milk and sweeetener now.
If I melt it down and start over, it won’t set by suppertime.
A taste? It’s zesty, zingy, potent – but, curiously, not inedible.
And I’ve thought of a way to still make the gelatine into a dessert.

So then it’s time to get the rest of supper. Maybe yam?
I’ve been eating my way through the 6 overly fat yams.
I see there are only 2 left. And when I pick up one –
THERE’S MY KOOL AID! Stuffed in a corner of the plastic bag.
The yams were so ponderous and bulbous I didn’t see underneath.
And so I eat my bountiful supper, and finish up. Smack, smack.
Cubes of grape gelatine and dollops of nonfat frozen yogurt dessert
(already sweetened.)

Hmmm, have I places in my life that hide as well as the Kool Aid did?
Fears, lack of courage, distractedness distancing me from Almighty God?
How thankful I am that the Lord sees all; he knows my secret cache
Of faults and damages and sour flavors tucked away.
And yet he chose me for his own, and loves me as I am.
The Creator of the Universe knows just how to make me
Into a pleasing, palatable dish flavored with his love and grace.
His Holy Spirit sweetens me.

“Moreover, because of what Christ has done, we have been made gifts of God that he delights in, for as part of the Father’s sovereign plan we were chosen from the beginning to be His, and all things happen just as he decided long ago.” (Eph. 1:11 TLB)

This is linked to L.L. Barkat's Seedlings in Stone, "On, In, and Around Mondays"

RAMBUNCTIOUS SURPRISE!

2010-09-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

Rambunctious Surprise.

Carrots:

Not just any ol’ carrots –
But the longest I’ve ever seen to buy.
Way too long for my refrigerator bin!
Rambunctious carrots!
They deserve a photo shoot.
A place setting of ordinary table utensils
Will impress the carrots’ size.

Table by the Window:

A smallish table, often standing bare;
If I place anything there,
It’s only temporarily.
Because my cat firmly believes
The table by the window belongs to her!
(But of course the table stays empty
As she spends time in other “her places”.)

And, the natural daylight streams just right,
Through the corner windows.
So here, I take advantage of the light
To pursue my photography.
Ordinary objects shine,
As do rambunctious fantasies!

So I lay out my carrots on the table,
Ready to document their rambunctious size.

Surprise!

And then, ah, there’s a flurry of surprise!
Rambunctious cat claims her table;
Sniffs and licks and pokes my carrot layout.
Finally decides there’s room on table
For rambunctious long carrots
And rambunctious prowling cat.
So she settles down, not rambunctiously at all.
And I take pictures all the while.

(PS. Yes, I washed the carrots well, before eating them.)

Feel free to link to this post. But please, no copying of text or photos without permission.

==

This post is inspired by L. L. Barkat's invitational, "On, In, and Around Monday"

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com/2010/09/on-in-and-around-mondays-city-of-words.html

A HARD WAY TO MAKE USE OF OLD FILES

2010-09-16T19:41:00.000-07:00

This post is in response to:

Unexpected Encouragement, an invitation from Faith Barista's jam

http://www.faithbarista.com/2010/09/what-to-do-when-your-god-sized-dream-stalls/

Unexpected Encouragement: A Hard Way to Make Use of Some Old Files

Before the days of Microsoft Windows, one operating system was DOS. I wrote a multitude of documents on the word processor that came with that old computer. But when I needed a newer computer, the only way to transfer my files was to call up each document, individually, and instruct it to convert to ascii (plain text). Over time, I did manage to convert a large number of files, which then went to live on my newer Windows 95 machine with MS Word, (and years later, could thus be read in Word on an XP computer.) But I had 100 or more data files that I wanted to preserve for posterity, but they weren’t high enough priority to drop everything else and convert.

I held on to that old DOS machine and my Win 95 computer for years and years and years, just for the eventuality of converting the files. But when I finally decided to work on the files, neither the DOS machine nor the Win 95 worked. A tech friend gave me another old Win 95 computer to play around with. But his computer didn’t have the right cables for a “slave” hard drive, and couldn’t find the DOS disk at all when it was fitted in as “master”.

This week a relative of mine who makes a once-a-year tour from another state to visit various family members, stayed with me several days. He resurrected my Windows 95 machine. And tried to write a program to convert the files; but the unknown properties of that ancient word processor defeated him. Then the hard drive started playing tricks again. However, inserting the hard drive from my tech friend’s computer into my old Win 95, my relative finally produced a working computer. And he was able to install the DOS drive as a slave. In fact, he managed to copy the entire word processor and files onto the Win 95 hard drive, and then, after many attempts, as an operational sub-directory on my XP machine!!!! The computer runs in XP, but allows me to call up my old Dos files, and then save those I’ve read --in MS Word!!! (Of course, I have to strip off the lines and lines of machine-code left at the top of each file by the old word processor; but the text is intact.) (And he instructed my computer to run in a simulated Win 95 mode – yes, there really is such a command – within that directory only!) Success at last!

The one constant I observed through all his trials and failures, was his persistence, his patience at trying again and again. Of not being discouraged by failure. When confronted by repeated failures, I tend to give up. So this was a good observation for me. And I learned something more about the character strength of this relative that I only see occasionally.

If a person can be so patient and persevering, and finally get good results from a seemingly-insurmountable problem, then how much more may I look to the incredible strength of my Mighty God? I need to remember: His patience and perseverance ever guide me into wholeness-in-Him out of my own flaws and brokenness.

ZOOM of THE INSIDE OF AN ARTICHOKE.

2010-09-15T16:23:00.000-07:00

This post is in response to an invite from High Calling Blogroll member Claire Burge --
to submit a zoomed photo image.
=

In a vacant lot, casually tossed aside, I came across an over-ripe, somewhat dried out artichoke. The leaves (or green petals)were starting to brown. But it had the most glorious purple-stranded topknot! There was no garden near the lot. But I’d seen artichokes growing in a neighbor’s garden a full block away. Perhaps an animal dragged the booty away. Or maybe some kids played with it.

I used my scanner to capture some effects of the lovely, wiggly scrolls of the topknot. But alas, I didn’t get around to taking a photo – which would have showed more effects of the cluster. For I got to wondering what might be inside such a treasure. And so I sawed it in two on my bandsaw. (I thought the object would fall away into two halves, a top and a bottom, and after I saw what it looked like inside, I could easily photograph both that, and the topknot. But I was wrong.)

The inside of the artichoke revealed a mass of white threads. The whole top half fell away into a scattering of fragments. Some dribbled to the floor, some fell in the sawdust bin collector, and a few ungainly strands rested on the sawing platform. Thus, I had nothing left of the once-clustered, squirly, swirly purple topknot. So I lost my chances for a photo.

But what I did have – the sawed bottom half – became a one-of-a-kind art object. The strange, loose inner
texture made it impossible to saw a smooth, straight line across petals that moved when the blade struck them. (It would probably be impossible to ever duplicate this particular result.)

This view reminds me just a little bit of a towheaded child’s hair against a browned face, ringed by a fringed parka. (Look with the eyes of the imagination, not those of deep scrutiny!) But how wonderfully beautiful are the whitened hairs!

And, what exactly is within me? Only my Maker, God, knows. The Scripture says “he makes all things beautiful in his time…” (It also says he even knows the number of hairs on my head.) If to me, a lowly, dying artichoke appears wonderful and surprising inside, I trust that God sees my heart and soul with the eyes of his incredibly creative imagination. It’s not my own character or righteousness that makes me beautiful to him. But he promises that he always sees me through the beauty and wonder of Christ-in-me.

And again, the Bible says, “…He [God] guarantees to bring us to himself.” (Eph 1:14] (sigh of relief!)
=

photo and text copyright (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

THE WATER JUG

2010-09-06T20:00:00.001-07:00

this is in response to L. L. Barkat's invitational:
"ON, IN, and AROUND MONDAYS" for Sept 6.

http://seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com

A few days ago I posted about an arrangement I'd placed on my dining room table.
I'm still looking at my mini ocean beach scene. Today I'm focusing on the jug of drinking water in a ripply, molded plastic bottle.

THE WATER JUG

Keen; light. Glistening.
Ripply. Pure water for drinking.
Clear water for imagining
I'm seeing water of mini ocean beach!
This sight is welcoming.

God will quench my thirsting;
I will come to Him praising.
My pretend-beach-scene's stirring
My hopes of surviving.
I’m seeking. God, toward you I reach,
In peaceful homecoming!

THE MINI-BEACH on my DINING ROOM TABLE, #2

2010-09-01T10:54:00.000-07:00

Sorry, I haven't got the hang of blogger yet. Once I posted the photos, I couldn't find a way to enter the text. Please see previous post for the images.

This is an answer to L. L. Barkat's invite "On, In, or Around Monday," writings about "place", that is, my response and observations about being in a certain place or site.

seedlingsinstone.blogspot.com

The Mini-Ocean-Beach on my Dining Room Table

I have a treasure trove brought home from the beach.
(The first time in some years I was actually strong enough
To walk down the slipsy hill, through loose sand,
And get down to the ocean’s slipsy sneaky incoming wave-edges.)

Now I’m at home, at my favorite perching place,
My dining room table. The table is a constant.
But he mementos or “specials” parked on it, change.
Appear or disappear with my mood or my whimsy –
Or with the commonalities or surprises that come to hand.

To commemorate that lovely, inspiring visit
To the beach, I build a memory-garden:
The homeside mini-beach comes to live on my table.

Here, I may explore the intricacies,
Look closely at small or lovely details,
And for each new zoom in, for each new view
Where my eyes focus on pieces or particles (or the whole),
Say “Thank you, Lord, for creating such detail,
Such beauty. Thank you for encouraging my soul.”

A tray full of beach sand, with its amalgamation
Of shell-chips, gravel-plenties, and wave-smoothed rocks
(a fourth inch, half an inch, even one and a half).
Yes, even one small piece of round-edged glass!
That’s my tableside beach, a reminder to worship God.

A drinking-water jug, with crinkly clear plastic modelings,
That’s my ocean -- a faintly imperfect analogy, but
Its reflections echo the flowing He, my Maker Creator,
Sends along the shoreline in delicately thin waves of the sea.

A years-dried-out, curvaceous clustered seaweed balances
On the neck of the water jug, to aid the “beach mood effect.”
(Gathered long ago on another outing to an ocean beach).
A weaving of ragged tendrils, a magic swirl of little tubes,
And at the bottom, where once the hold-fast attached to rocks,
An array of the most incredible, knobby barnacles.
There are snarls of tendrils in me; meandering pipes;
And sharp-edged barnacles to prick, but also to gleam.
But may He remind me of my beauty in him:
For he sees me, not as a pressed amalgam of twisted lines
And peculiar quirks, but as a unique unity of beauty,
For my strangeness is covered over fully so that he beholds
In me only the righteousness of God in Christ.

Thank you, Lord, for my tableside beach
To call my heart ever nearer to you, a worship-tool
To banish my fears and cares in the contemplation
Of your intricacies, and your Holy Design for my life!

copyright (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to link to this post, and to make a copy for your own personal use, but please do not copy this for any public purpose.

THE MINI-OCEAN-BEACH ON MY DINING TABLE --

2010-09-01T10:45:00.000-07:00

copyright (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to link to this post, and one copy allowed for personal viewing pleasure only, but please do not copy images for any other purpose or public postings. Thanks.

Images for Myrtle Tree Writing

2010-08-12T14:39:00.001-07:00

In Which I Palm Off on You a Variation on a Requested Theme.

2010-08-12T09:32:00.000-07:00

This post is for Theme Thursday, for which the topic this week is “palm”.
http://themethursday.blogspot.com/2010/08/thursday-august-12-2010-palm-link.html

Note: The pictures which illustrate this writing are in the newer post above this.
--

In Which I Palm Off on You My Variation on the Requested Theme

We do not have palm trees here----

May I palm off on you, the special species, our native myrtle?
Umbellularia californica.
Half-opened-billowy-umbrella shaped:
A broadleaf (not needled) evergreen tree.
It almost always grows in even form, rounded, without being pruned to shape.
A shade tree, pleasant to sit under in summer;
Keeping the landscape green in winter.

Its leaves are simple and flat, leathery, dark green.
I take color crayon rubbings to show their ribby lines.
But the most distinctive leaf feature is not shape nor color, but its pungency.
Some people can’t stand to mow their yards which have thickened
With dead, gradually fallen mutter of brown leaves,
Because the aroma when leaves chopped or lacerated is so strong.
(The myrtle’s near relative, the bay tree, furnishes leaves for pickling or flavoring.)
Some entrepeneurs have distilled from aromatic leaves a perfume.
I never cared much for its scent, myself.
But little vials of the stuff made a good tourist grab.
The wood of myrtle, hardwood strong with patterned grain, became transformed
By careful craftsmen into many a gentle piece of gorgeous furniture or smart knicknack.

The bark is chippy-rough, with many a seam. Distinct, tough, patchy.
How great is the flow of scrawly texture.
Myrtle flowers, waxy off-white, unshowy clusters -- slowly grow into nuts.
Peel off the punky outer husk (walnut-like) of nut, and within lies a hard smooth roundy shell.
But inside that shell, the firm nut flesh is acrid-bitter to the taste.
A handful of shucked brown nuts would fill my palm.
The pioneers used to fatten their pigs on myrtle nuts.
I guess the Indians (now called Native Americans) soaked and leached them until edible
(a last resort when other foods were scarce.)

But artist that I am, I found another use for myrtle nuts!
For every nut has a “nose”. A doll-sized nose.
(Isn’t God clever with his endless statements of variety in Nature?)
And thus, with a little time and my creativity a mini-doll may grace my palm.

I’ve wandered far from palm tree theme Thursday.
But besides our hands (palms for accepting or giving alms) --
and date-palm trees -- and palming-off magician’s tricks or shoddy stuff, or in my case,
substituting what seems a better thing instead of the Thursday theme –
Dash with me into my own familiar realm (of myrtle trees in the yard beyond my palm-hand).
And if that’s not enough, there are always psalms to say,
And thoughts of other palmy balmy beauty things.

Copyright © 2010 by Marilee Miller
By all means link to my post, but please ask permission to copy for public viewing.

The Anguish and the Beauty of Special-Needs Parenting

2010-08-08T10:14:00.000-07:00

The anguish and the beauty of special-needs parenting.

Looking out my window. Neighbor lady patiently
Trying to coax her foster son into car.
Huge boy, adult body, child mind.
Waiting-watching parent, trying to encourage. Showing patience.
Patting him. Gesturing. Taking time to unwind.

He’s in, he’s finally in!
That is, his head’s inside; upper body leaning;
But he refuses to sit.
His legs are still out.
No matter the gestures, no meaning;
And then finally he sits.
Hurray!
But no, he doesn’t turn and slide.
His legs are still out.

Patient she is, this caring mother.
How quietly-sturdy beautiful.

I leave the window. Five minutes pass,
And I, returning, see the boy, huge boy,
Still sitting in the car, on the seat;
But his legs are still out.
Moreover, he’s crossed his arms and clenched his fists,
As if confronted by horrid-monster-mists.
He shakes his crossed arms violently.
His head is going, “No, no, no!”
And mother still encourages; does not shout.

Brave mother. Beautiful.
A beauty only God can see –
And me, a neighbor, watching,
Admiring her beauty full.

Her name won’t show in a record book;
She doesn’t have time to have a blog-brag,
Or to do “great things” so our community can look.
Sometimes her feelings must flow limp rags.
But there she stands, in patient time.
God bless the son and “fare him well”.
God bless this mother, brave-quiet and beautiful:
One of the unsung heroes of our time.

copyright (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

A LITTLE ORNAMENT

2010-07-19T11:32:00.001-07:00

front, close-up, and back of handmade ornament using tiny beach pebbles, a bit of a dried grass head, and a sequin. (back deco is a leather lacing, dotted with Elmer's glue, then partly painted with acrylic yellow.) The white ring is from a bottle, the metal backing is a tin can lid.

Made with objects on "My Cluttered Table of Creativity"

MY CLUTTERED TABLE OF CREATIVITY.

2010-07-15T20:21:00.001-07:00

This poem is a response to L L Barkat's Seedlings in Stone blog on her writing table ---

MY CLUTTERED TABLE OF CREATIVITY.

Some people say that a cluttered room
Distracts the mind from productivity –
“Clean up the outer mess, and your inner life
Will be more peaceful,
Setting free a burst of creativity.”

I don’t find that so, at all!
Please see in my clutter a hint of nativity –
The advent of being free to act as a midwife
To birth a cupful
Of expressions of artistic activity.

Oh, look! I’m an artist after all.
I thought that part of me had shriveled up and died.
So many other interruptions hindered me.
But now I have materials out in sight,
And someday, surprising works
May bloom from my shelves or wall.

My Dining Room table is a mess.
Bless this mess, O God!

My table is an activity room all by itself.
The place where I read and sort my mail
(And park the pieces I can’t decide whether to save or toss.)
Devotionals and Christian writings lie scramble-piled,
Near at hand, my necessity.
There’s a spot where salt shaker,
Cinnamon shaker, and bottles of
Digestive tablets hover at ready.
Two days ago the clean, crisp swirls
Of a pink-red rose were worth some photo shots;
Now the rose is shriveling, I’ll get around to ditching it.
Tomorrow, maybe.

My Amplified Bible stays out in sight,
In case I want to glean its treasures
While I eat or work or think;
Yet it’s doing another duty, for underneath its weight
A batch of leaves are pressed!
Leaves that when fully dried, will
Go in some arty design.

The rest of the table is occupied.
Call it a mess, or call it inspiration.
If “out of sight is out of mind,”
Then being close at hand must spur me on
To create and build and re-wind.
Curliques and shreds of bark from neighbor’s trees.
Dried grasses plucked from sidewalk cracks.
A bit of plastic dust (green) from sawing
A liquid detergent bottle into odd strange rings.
A bit of feather, a snatch of lichen, and
Some home-deco brought in by a friend.
A big bowl of pine cones which had got its picture taken.
Marking pens, scissors, toothpicks, and cut up bottles,
And a great big bottle of Elmer’s glue.
(I tell you, this list is really all true!)
Oh, yes, there’s also an empty space!
It isn’t a large place, but cleared off
Just enough so I may lay my plate and
Eat my daily meals.

Bless the food I eat to nourish me, Lord.
And bless this mess, oh God!
For “surely the presence of the Lord is in this place”.
At my overflowing dining room table
I worship and praise and pray,
Even as I play and play.

From this clutter, have I taken countless snapshots.
Close-ups of individual materials. And
“Made by me” things besides.

So far I’ve created a tree form from bark curls. And
An ornament with tiny pebbles and
Tiny sprig of stiffish grass-head.
A cotton puff (once from a pill bottle) and
A scrabbly bitty piece of burlap, frayed,
That I don’t remember how I even got –
Well, those two dissimilar, ordinary parts
Became “White Manx Cat Settling Down”:
A strictly temporary artwork,
For if touched or pulled the cat shape
Will shrink or maybe disappear.

But I have many other ideas in mind.
I just have to grab the right oddments,
Find the right free time.

Photos and text
© 2010 by Marilee Miller
Feel free to link to this, but please no copying without permission.

In my next post I hope to show more materials on the table, and a few finished projects.

A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE SURPRISE

2010-07-12T08:43:00.000-07:00

A Delightful Little Surprise

My cat loves to lounge all sprawled out on a small table near my large front window. But when she's not using it, I sometimes set small objects on this table and take close-up photos. The natural lighting is so great in this spot! Sometimes, a picture will also capture a pair of white, furry feet or a curious pink nose with lovely white whiskers, as she appears suddenly to
investigate what I'm doing, using her table!

The other morning, after such happened, the cat lolled about nearby for a while, then, becoming disinterested, jumped down and begged to go outside. After I let her out, I found she'd left me the most delightful little surprise.

There on the empty part of the table lay a small ring of white hair. Hardly bigger than a dime. I had combed her that morning; there may have been some loosened strands of fur. But I don't know how she managed to lick it off in the shape of a ring, substantial enough for me to pick up, but light and airy as a dream.

How lovely when we find little surprises to give us a smile, an uplift of spirits. And say, I just "happened" already to have my camera set up for close-ups.

How lovely God is, to send us little surprises to delight us. He can use the curiosity of "what will show up" in a photo. Or give a cat a small present for me to find. Or bless me by the light streaming through my window. Or whisper contentment----

Thank you, Lord, that you have so many ways of touching our hearts. Even by things or ways or people or thoughts which seem rather insignificant. May I look, always, for your hand at work in everything. I don't want to take for granted coincidences or random delights -- but to choose to see in every single thing, God-incidences.

Then even if my body sags or my mind feels weak-hearted, deep down in my spirit may the Holy Spirit touch me with himself: substantial enough to pick up and hold on to, but light and airy as a dream!

A HEART THAT LIVES ON ART.

2010-07-05T16:44:00.001-07:00

A HEART THAT LIVES ON ART.

Went for a walk: found tall pine tree,
Wind-bent branches waving back at me;
And at my feet spread a holy ground,
A forest floor of cones and scales around;
Yes, sloughed off barklets clever-shaped, free!
To draw my eye to God who made the tree.

Ideas soon bloomed within my mind,
(Oh, wasn’t the Lord giving grace most kind?)
I gathered up curliques shaped cryptically,
Brought the chips home, thinking almost mystically.
Glued to sky blue paper, part by part,
To satisfy my heart that lives on art.
Thus I fashioned a whimsy spree,
While worshipping the God who made both me, and tree!

photos and text (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

FROSTING

2010-07-05T16:36:00.001-07:00

FROSTING

In neatly tended bed
In community pocket park,
A small weathered stump,
Cracked top like over-baked cake,
Accepts the grace of fungi-frosting.

My own interior bed
Is more shaded; dark,
But I, though small weathered stump,
God’s infilling breath will take –
His grace to cover every lost thing!

photo and text (c) by Marilee Miller 2010

ON "SCENTS"

2010-06-22T14:16:00.001-07:00

ON "SCENTS"

I've often read in novels that the air
smelled of honeysuckle (or lilac, or--- ).
But I walked by the honeysuckle
a foot and a half away,
and didn't even catch a whiff.
In fact, when I put my nose up to the blooms,
the scent was so faint as to be almost imagination.
Maybe there are different kinds of honeysuckle;
Or it’s the weather or season.

Sometimes when I bring a boquet inside,
such as daphne, it really does perfume the room.
But I’m not usually aware of the scent out in the yard.
(I wonder -- if the temp was 100 degrees,
would more fragrance be released?
But then I wouldn’t catch the scent: for
I'd be holed up indoors with the air conditioner on!)

One natural scent really does "carry"
pungently on the air, and that is new-mown grass.
Distinctive aroma like no other.
(But another odor that reaches me is, alas,
burning garbage in some neighbor’s
fireplace or yard-debris bonfire!)

I would love it if my life gave off the scent
that sweet honeysuckle is reputed to waft.
How might I let God mold me such
That I might carry to others the enriching
scent of kind and gentle spirit
in every sort of weather and season?

Photos and text (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

NOSTALGIA -- but you can't go back!

2010-06-22T14:09:00.000-07:00

NOSTALGIA – but you can’t go back!

A friend returned recently from a trip to Canada –
Where she tried to visit old friends,
And reconnect with once-familiar places.
She lived up there long enough to pine,
Sometimes, to move back and be Canadian again.
But her ties and obligations are here, now.

And she found it true –“you can’t go back!”
So many changes to once-favored places.
So many dreams, now only empty spaces.
Few people that she used to know are still around.
One friend she especially favored,
Was dead. I guess she hadn’t heard. Oh, my!
So much for nostalgia –
What seemed the most winsome memories,
Are graces that no longer exist.

Life does move on -- sometimes with a laugh,
More often with a dreary sigh.
Our ties and obligations are right where we are.
We make fresh opportunities now, or kick the traces.
We entrust ourselves to God each day.
Only he remains changeless, true:
Cheering, comforting, and caring,
Planting smiles and washing tears from our faces.

Photo and poem (c) 2010 by Marilee Miller

"Don't Waste Your Sorrows"

2010-06-14T19:59:00.000-07:00

David, at Red Letter Believers blog -- redletterbelievers.blogspot.com --, has a post on the ways he and other Christians doubt God at times, by giving in to selfishness or ignoring the call to obedience. He laments that he “cannot escape this shadow that dogs my every step.”

However, he concludes with a familiar plea, “I believe, but help my unbelief.”

I wonder if David had just read David Wilkerson’s most recent post, which speaks of how deeply Christ is wounded when we don’t believe he has the power to act, when we don’t believe his word? Wilkerson’s post made me feel “small”, I admit.

Paul E. Bilheimer, in “Don’t Waste Your Sorrows,” concludes that suffering is a natural part of our human life – a preparation for our union with Christ for all eternity. “[W]hen sorrow and suffering come… it is easy to fall into a spirit of resentment and self-pity which produces frustration and depression. When this occurs one is defeated in his spiritual life… He has wasted his sorrow. What God permitted in order to wean him from self-love and self-worship, and therefore for his spiritual growth, has resulted in loss. …
Character (agape love) is the coin, the legal tender of heaven.”

These statements would seem to side with Wilkerson’s thoughts. (However, be it known that Wilkerson also has a tender heart before God and frequently offers great comfort to those who are afraid they’re letting God down).

Bilheimer goes on to add, “In order to grow in character it is necessary to understand that nothing that God permits can come to his child, whether ‘good’ or ‘ill’ is accidental or without design. Everything is designed to drive him out of himself into God… All is for the purpose of character training…
“God cannot train one without mystifying him, baffling him. Evidently God has objectives in us which cannot be achieved apart from frustration and bewildering pain… “

God’s purpose is to deliver us from “self” into agape love.

Perhaps it would be better to praise God for allowing us the privilege of doubt him sufficiently enough to make us aware of our own weakness, until we can only rest in his strength, not in anything our minds can conjure up. Some people advocate “positive thinking”, as if we can successfully overcome all doubts and fears by making strong affirmations about God’s strength and power. I have personally found this to be a wrestling match I can’t hope to win. The more aware I become of my own sin of unbelief, the more I dislike myself for not being able to “overmaster” it. But I’m not supposed to be in charge of mastery. The very thing God wants to teach me, is that he alone is sufficient.

T. Austin-Sparks wrote that Christ will always be “other” than we are. The sooner we allow the Holy Spirit to show us that, the better. And that we might as well have one last despair and get it over with, instead of despairing every few weeks (over our sinful selves). I haven’t been able to grasp that business of having one despair and getting it over with. But his words do comfort me when I remember, at last, that I’m not supposed to be strong and able, but rather to submit and let God have his perfect way.

Corrie Ten Boom says, “Nestle, don’t wrestle!”

How grateful I am that “We have an advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ…” “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins.” (And so my doubting, that I despair of changing into secure trust in him, is blotted out.) Oh, halleluliah!

Thank God, oh thank God, when Christians are aware of our tendency toward unbelief. That we cry out for deliverance from our selfish selves, that we cry for God’s mercy! Such is surely the working of the Holy Spirit to “conform us” to Christ. There are those who don’t seem to fear they are weak. Who don’t bewail their tendency toward unbelief or other sins. Unfortunately, smugness and heedlessness can be great traps to stifle our spiritual growth!

So I say with David of Red Letter Believers, and with those in the Bible who cried for the Lord’s help, “Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief!”

(untitled)

2010-06-07T19:55:00.000-07:00

To Camas:

This summer will you have a merry go 'round,
As you ride on some "chic" merry-go-round?
You'll mount a sleek horse and sit astride,
And that will be some slick carousel ride!

WE MAY BE FILLED WITH ALL OF GOD!

2010-06-05T15:09:00.000-07:00

“May Christ through your faith [actually] dwell
(settle down, abide, make his permanent home) in
your hearts! May you be rooted deep in love and
founded securely on love.

“That you may have the power to apprehend
and grasp with all the saints [God’s devoted people,
the experience of that love] what is the breadth
and length and height and depth [of it]

“[That you may really come] to know
[practically, through experience for your-
selves] the love of Christ, which far surpasses
mere knowledge [without experience]; that
you may be filled [through all your being] unto
all the fullness of God [may have the richest
measure of the divine Presence, and become a
body wholly filled and flooded with God himself.]”
(Eph. 4:17-19 Amplified Bible)

A CALL TO ENCOURAGE AND EDIFY

2010-05-31T17:52:00.001-07:00

A CALL TO ENCOURAGE AND EDIFY THE BODY OF CHRIST

Herald of His Coming is undenominational in spirit, attempting to reach all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity – with a stirring appeal to holiness and love and zeal – in the work and witness of our adorable Master, the Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father.

The heart’s desire of this ministry includes the following:

To promote Revivals of Christianity everywhere – in accordance with the pattern and the standards of the Bible, which is the inspired Word of God.

To call God’s people to a holy life, and to urgently exhort them all to live constantly in readiness for the Coming of the Lord –and, by God’s grace, watching unto prayer to so live before them – that the example of or own lives, in humility, love, purity, zeal, self-denial, faithfulness, and devotion from the heart to God the Father, and to His Son, Jesus Christ, through the power of the Holy Spirit – may be an inspiration and a help to all who are determined to be ready for the coming of the Lord – asking God, for Jesus’ sake, to help us not to be a stumbling block to anyone.

To encourage charity among and toward all who love our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity (Eph. 6:24).

To hold up the standard of God’s Word for Christian Living.

To specifically encourage all Christians, regardless of what experiences they may have had, to yet – as Paul so strongly admonishes in Philippians 3:8-17 – PRESS ON – for the Salvation of the lost, for the preparation of God’s people for the Coming of the Lord, and for the fulfilling of God’s will in the lives of all, “occupying” – keeping busy in God’s will and to God’s service – till Jesus comes (Luke 19:13).

[Herald of His Coming newspaper; June 2010]

I CHOOSE TO . . .

2010-04-26T10:37:00.001-07:00

GUEST POST:

THE SECRET TO A JOYFUL LIFE.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am joyful most of the time. Have you seen the movie "Patch Adams?" I also could probably be accused of "excessive happiness." I wasn’t always like this. When I was younger, I struggled with many dark feelings, and I even considered suicide a couple of times. I also have to deal with quite a bit of pain in my body every day of my life. I mention this lest you think I live in a perfect world where joy comes easily

I have learned that the secret to a joyful life is about making good choices. I am going to share some of my secrets here. No charge! How about that! Sometimes I have to struggle to "get there," but this is where I choose to live.

1. I choose to see the best in people. (Unless they, or the Holy Spirit show me otherwise.)

2. I choose to have compassion on people when I see their faults and shortcomings. I choose mercy.

3. I choose not to be offended. I choose to forgive. I choose to say I am sorry when I know I am wrong. I choose to take the lower place.

4. I choose to let God’s word show me how to live. I choose to trust in the truth of God’s word. I choose to focus on His promises. I choose to believe every word!

5. I choose not to gossip or to listen to gossip.

6. I choose not to spend any more time than necessary around negative people.

7. I choose not to concentrate on the pain and the problems, but on the One who has promised to give me His grace, and strength to be an overcomer.

8. I choose not to obsess over my mistakes, but to learn from them, to get up, dust myself off and keep going.

9. I choose to be a giver. I choose to invest my time, what finances I have, my care and my love in other people.

10. I choose to be a listener and an encourager.

11. I choose to take care of myself. I see no point in running my body into the ground.

12. I choose to love God and myself. Then I can love others.

13. I choose to keep the time I spend venting, complaining and whining to a minimum. It wouldn’t be honest to say I never do it, but I choose not to "live there."

14. I choose not to dwell on the past or let its mistakes ruin my future.

15. I choose to spend time with God each day.

16. I choose to edify myself with good music, good activities, good company, good thoughts, and good confessions.

17. I choose to find pleasure and beauty in simple things and not always be longing for what I can’t have.

18. I choose to dream big, to set goals and work to achieve them.

19. I choose to have integrity and to be faithful – to God, my husband, my family, my friends and my call.

20. I choose not to blame others for my problems. I choose to be responsible.

I choose JOY! What do YOU choose?

-- Mae Jones. used by permission.

"WHAT IF?" 2

2010-04-21T17:35:00.000-07:00

Last week Bonnie Gray (www.faithbarista.com) offered a “What If” challenge. We were supposed to list 5 “what ifs” that we might do to bring changes to our lives. This week we were to elaborate on what happened after we chose one of the 5. Many of the items listed were “activities,” or the hopes of learning to think and act more positively. But some bloggers yearned to know that God really, really does love us – and that we don’t need to worry so much.

Last week, instead of a list of 5 items, I wrote (in near despair) of trying to help a woman whose physical, emotional, and spiritual disabilites, and humungous financial needs, totally engulfed and overwhelmed me. And we’d reached a dead end in resources to help the woman. All my “what ifs” seemed to require enormous, almost-instantaneous miracles from God; but given my past experiences in life, I didn’t know how to expect truly supernatural responses.

I gave my concerns and heavy burden to God – but I was so distraught and heartsick that I kept taking things back. But God in his gracious mercy, opened a quiet way instead of the spectacular options I’d presented to him as necessary. There’s been a lull in my involvement (and best of all, I didn’t have to be the one to orchestrate the “distancing”, as I’d dreaded I would).

I still believe the physically and mentally ill need more attention/ assistance/ support than they get from either the Christian community or from agencies. I still know this woman (and the many others like her) needs supernatural intervention from God. I still believe we need to pray for others, always. And we need to be supported to believe strongly for God’s presence to manifest itself in all our lives. But I’ve been able to get back to the solitude and rest that I require -- something that doesn’t happen when my mind is under pressure from daily confrontation.

The woman’s problems haven’t gone away. My involvement probably hasn’t gone away. But I’m thankful to God that we’re both “still here” in spite of my doomsday thoughts last week.

Bonnie’s transparency, and that of the participants who expressed fears, self-doubts and need-to-be-aware-of-God’s-love, really encouraged me that I’m not as alone or “different” as I felt I might be. I’m so glad there is a Savior of us all. And that JESUS IS LORD is the greatest miracle of them all!

ART, WORSHIP, and A LOWLY TURNIP

2010-04-21T11:54:00.000-07:00

ART, WORSHIP, AND A LOWLY TURNIP

Sometimes food preparation can take a long time.
Why? Because I end up stopping to arrange the parts.
Then maybe I’m prompted to take a snapshot -- or five.

The turnip is such a basic veggie!
Not beautiful or bright-clean-color,
Not glorious in shape or outstanding in size.
I’m not even fond of the taste of simple-turnip.
(Not when raw, and not when cooked.)
But if my imagination cooks up a rare dish –
Turnip pancakes, turnip-cinnamon bread,
Or raw thin turnip slice with salsa and cream cheese –
Then I can participate in the food uses of a turnip.

First, however, I get to play with the pieces.
The peelings. The parts that will go in the garbage
Once I’m done exercising my creativity.
No, I didn’t start out to make art!
I was just getting this turnip ready to cook.
But suddenly my playful side tugged at my heart.

Creativity is a gift of God. In imagining food as art,
I bring an offering of worship-praise to the Living God.
“Thank you, Lord, for giving me eyes to see
Reminders of Your beauty, yes, even in a lowly turnip.”

© 2010 by Marilee Miller

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WOW! or, The Vet Admires My Cat

2010-04-18T11:18:00.000-07:00

WOW! Or, The Vet Admires My Cat

The vet’s assistant reached for the cat carrier in my car.
“She’s big,” I warned.
Meaning, expect the cage to be heavy.
“Yes, I can tell,” said the lady, lifting the box.

The vet, examining her, called her, lovingly, “Big Girl.”
(I found out my cat weighs 15 pounds!
I knew she was heavy, but had never known exactly how much.)
The vet, to me: “I’ll bet you don’t allow her to sit on your stomach!”
(No, I don’t! But this cat doesn’t like to be picked up, anyway.)

The vet and her helper exchanged comments:
“She’s so white, so very white.”
(I had a white cat before her. Yes, he was white,
But would almost be a pale-grayed white compared with this cat.
When he shed hair on the carpet, I hardly noticed it.
When she sheds, the strands stand out luminously.)

The vet and the attendant inspected her belly.
“WOW!” They chirped in unison;
Admiring, almost reverent tones.
What did their exclamations mean?
Because her hair grows prolific even there,
In a place where some cats have sparse fur?
Or, it was so clean and white?
(She is so good at grooming herself to whiteness.)
Or, that it had no scraggly patches of unhealth?
I don’t know why their “wow!”

But after my cat had been sick the day before,
And now given a clean bill of health,
I have a great new appreciation. What if I’d lost her?
Thank goodness, she’s all right.
No more half-taking-her-for-granted.
WOW!

God designed the cat. He created so many intricate, lovely things.
My cat is his workmanship, wonderfully made.
But God also created ME!
I am his workmanship, beautifully made.
Is it possible that the Lord has brought me far enough along
This pathway with Him, that others might see
The imagination of God shining from within?
Not because I’ve done something valuable in my own self,
But because I trust He is fashioning me to be
Exactly who he wants me to be?
WOW!

© 2010 by Marilee Miller

Beliefs

2010-04-11T13:05:00.001-07:00

"I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth;
And in Jesus Christ his only Son, our Lord, who was conceived of the Holy Spirit,
born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; the third day he rose from the dead; he ascended to the right hand of God the Father Almighty, from thence he shall come to judge the quick and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and life everlasting. Amen."

Some Things I'm Thankful For

2010-04-11T12:58:00.000-07:00

Some things I’m thankful for.

Ongoing knowledge about other people:
their ways, habits,
lifestyles, quirks, and blessedness.
Appreciation for the intricacy and complexity
of human body, mind, and spirit.
Enjoyment of God’s great earth, Nature,
and created things:
Sunshine and rain, flowers and trees,
valleys and hills and rivers and everything.
A comfortable house and good food --
and the strength to cook it.
My lovely pet cat.
A kindly, gentle, generous family.
Deeply Christian thoughtful insightful blogs and e-mails.
My proliferation of craft and art supplies inviting me
to go on hoping I can express my artistic side more fully,
wildly, and creatively -- someday.
Being in touch with the world by computer.
Any or all distractions from pain.
God’s friendship with all of us – including me!
My Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, who never gives up
on me, but promises always to hold my hand.

2010-04-07T12:33:00.000-07:00

“He is risen!”
“The Lord is risen indeed!”
Dismayed I became, on hearing
That some Christians no longer accept
The blood of Christ shed for atonement,
For our sins to be blotted out.
“God wouldn’t be that cruel,” they say,
“To kill his Son. That’s barbaric!”

I’m thankful my pastor doesn’t feel that way,
And that many others express their faith
In the blood sacrifice of Jesus, who
Died for us, and by God’s mighty power
Conquered death: He rose again – for us,
That we might live forever with Him.
Giving thanks, I lean on the word of God.

“…by his own blood he entered in once into the holy place,
having obtained eternal redemption for us.”

“So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many;
and unto them that look for him shall he appear a second time
without sin unto salvation.” (Heb. 9: 12, 28)

Hallelulia! “He is risen indeed.”

RENEWAL

2010-03-27T17:01:00.001-07:00

I am "me." I have a design, a pattern, which was instilled in me by my Creator, God.
But the pattern goes askew sometimes. Or it isn't very "coherent". It could be said
to have lots of random "rings" (which may even be perceived as "holes" or lacks.)

The Bible tells me to put off the old man (my own ideas and the old self-directed ways)
and put on the new man (live with a Christly heart and mind.)

Actually, it's impossible for me to remake myself. I can only entrust my life to Him,
and admit that I am incapable of becoming what and who is best for me. I can ask
Him to do an "extreme makeover" in me. So I become less self-driven, and more
Christ-acting.

Hurray! God is still working in me. He never gives up on me (even when I think mine
may be a hopeless case)! He's creating lovely patterns and newness of life in me. (I've
given him permission to draw me closer to Himself. And he has taken me up on my
offer. Yes, even when I don't seem to see anything happening to "grow" my life and
make me more mature in Him.)

That change he's effecting in me, is called RENEWAL. Restoration. New Life.

I see myself as not having a very pretty design. I fail a lot. Cry a lot. Am disappointed
in myself, and sometimes, in all of life. Yet though I forget the fact, he has promised
that he won't see me warty, holy, full of random rings. He has promised to look at me
through the lens of Jesus Christ. So when he looks at me, and sees Christ, he can
pronounce me "clean" and "whole" and "entire". Oh, the relief!

He sees all the intricate, close up details that I might miss entirely. And lo!, I'm beautiful
in his sight. Paul writes, "Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me [from
ego, self-interest]? Thanks be to God for his unexpressible gift in Christ Jesus."

I'm renewed! I'm fresh! I'm putting on the new person, as I am heavily immersed
in the Spirit of Christ. A butterfly that can flit purposely through this life. I'm still
"me," he's still taken the basic patterns of my human design. But my great hope
is that (though I may not be able to see it happening), he is ever at work in me.
And he will continue to put Christ on/in me. RENEWAL. HOPE. HIS LOVE. REST!
His WAY. (blissful sigh of relief.)