Time

"And he shall bring it to pass" (Ps. 37:5).

It takes God time to answer prayer. We often fail to give God a chance in this respect. It takes time for God to paint a rose. It takes time for God to grow an oak. It takes time for God to make bread from wheat fields. He takes the earth. He pulverizes. He softens. He enriches. He wets with showers and dews. He warms with life. He gives the blade, the stock, the amber grain, and then at last the bread for the hungry.

All this takes time. Therefore we sow, and till, and wait, and trust, until all God's purpose has been wrought out. We give God a chance in this matter of time. We need to learn this same lesson in our prayer life. It takes God time to answer prayer. --J. H. M.

Author: Mrs. Charles E. Cowman
Source: Streams in the Desert

Time heals........if we let it.....if we let Him. ~Jules

Picture says it all.....

That's the way I feel about this week.......I'm spent. Can't seem to get in a groove. It's like this when my hubbie is gone. I just miss him. Started the week off with a sick boy and although he's better, this week has just been goofy......that's all. It's pretty much done. I won't get anything else house and school wise done. What to do with this weekend? Take a step back. Look at the overall picture of our school and schedule, then refocus. Of course, I'll be praying about all that is in front of me. Most of all, I'm looking forward to seeing my hubbie Sunday afternoon at KAIROS closing ceremony.

That's all~nuff said.

From the Outside

I love old churches. I love the architecture, the history, the purpose. I've always loved stained glass and the colors coming alive as sunlight radiates through carefully pieced glass. From the outside most stained glass seems flat, dull, almost like a mistake. Once inside the sanctuary, it's a world of glowing artwork full of life and light. I think people are like this. Outwardly, they seem cold, plain, existing. Yet, if time were taken to see, be allowed inside, we could see the shattered pieces of glass actually making artwork of a life. It's only when the light is shining in that it makes sense.

The Light of the cross, that is.

Our Creator scooping up the shards of glass and delicately piecing a life together in hope. The glass makes no sense to the onlooker, but to the Creator, He sees the picture, the life. Loving fingers sliced from the task at hand, purifying burning fire, and steady time in faith, a new creation emerges. Different in appearance, yet, all the original bits in new place. A smile emerges, the sin that once gripped and strangled this little life, now is broken, crushed. Freedom. To shine. To radiate life. The Light of life. Though pieces once were, peace now reigns, alive.

Lord, create in me a new heart that will radiate your love to other shattered, hurting lives that they may hope in You.

Learning to Play by Heart

My hands know these keys, but not their names. I hear their tones. I feel their notes. But they are unfamiliar in name. I struggle. I plunk. My form is cumbersome. My smoothness needs work......but I am making music. I am getting out the song inside this heart that has been bottled up for too long. Sometimes this song seems overshadowed by doubt. But I press on in the wrong notes and finally have to stop, regroup, focus on the music...."where did I go wrong?" Play by heart, Beloved. I hear the soothing words. I wince. "I don't know where I am." What is this song I'm trying to play? I forget. I hear it daily in my heart, my mind, the depth of my soul. But I can't seem to play it. My hands won't work together. I can't read it either. I want to stop. Shrink back. Quit. Play the easier song I learned in childhood. Why can't I play this? Is there a wall of sorts? Keys stick. Notes stop. And yet, I still hear the song. Others play this song so easily....I struggle with the courage to play it in spite of the wrong notes. Somehow, through all the sour sounds and aching hands, music is made. The song my hands are playing is becoming more like the one in my soul. It's becoming more free. Happy. Easier. It's becoming more me. Play by heart, Beloved. I hear again. OK, Lord. I'm listening. I'm playing. I'm fumbling, working through sheet music that challenges my abilities, my courage. I'm living. Play by heart, Beloved. I close my eyes and play. I feel the music inside. I play what I hear, what my heart longs to say. And I can see........when I play by heart, my heart is happy.

Grace Like Rain

When all my days seem dry and I thirst for something more, I look off in the distance and see the storm clouds pour. I am once again drenched with Your mercy and Your grace as I feel the love and kindness of my Father wet my face. I must only look upward to change the view I see and once again remember it is You that makes me free...........

Finding Myself in the "Praesepe"

"Praesepe" is the Latin word for manger. My boys and I went to the Kimbell Art Museum yesterday to see the "A Nativity from Naples" Exhibit and Reconstructing the Renaissance. We spent much time looking at this scene that is from the 18th and 19th centuries. The detail exquisite and the faces of the cast of characters engaging. We lingered to the point that it almost came to life!

As we walked through the galleries and enjoyed many Renaissance paintings, my oldest and I shared many moments that a Mother's heart will cherish. He began to pour out all that he had learned about the subject matter. I had a walking tour guide! I ate it up! My heart was filled with delight and reaffirmed as to why we are choosing this alternate method of schooling.

This past fall at a My Father's World conference my hubbie and I attended, I saw a vision of sorts. Our group was taking a little hike through dense woods and a leaf covered path. I saw HS like that. A path, not completely exposed, rocky, slick at times, scary with the unknown all around. However, I also saw the beauty of the hike, the path, the sun filtered through the light of brilliantly colored fall leaves, and places where others had walked. I wasn't alone. I was comforted. Yet, on those days when the hike is tough for me, I forget these things and hear the words of David Hazell of My Father's World, HS cirriculum, "Trust the program." (I've since changed the quote to personalize it a bit. "Trust the path." David liked the change.) =) Today, however, was a lovely day showing me the value of this path. The path of homeschooling works and I enjoyed today greatly. I'm truly not alone.

Which brings me back to the praesepe......we attended a lecture about this nativity and praesepes. In the 1200s as paintings of praesepes were created, interesting characters began to be included. St Francis of Assissi was portrayed in one example. I never understood that before. It seemed odd and unscriptural to add people to the Holy Family and the night Christ was born. However, after this lecture, I realized the "why" of this. People added themselves to the praesepe as a way of personalizing them. A visual example of Christ coming to them. And, for the first time, I saw myself as part of the praesepe. Christ has come! He has filled my heart with joy and I am delivered. My Deliverer in a manger! It's more than this little mind can fathom......and I'm so grateful. I'm beginning to see myself as apart of that night too. Who knows what our praesepe will look like next year? A camel, a shepherd, magi and The Robersons!

Thank you Lord for coming, for 2009, and for new understanding at how personal you are........

New Years and The Past

How funny to look back and realize all that has past since I last blogged. My how the days are full of life! After many travels in the fall, from Rolla, MO to Harrodsburg, KY, our days quickly filled with Anniversary, holidays and birthdays. It was a good season. (Even in the respect that my precious Granna was admitted into the hospital for a few days with a nasty virus, God's goodness has continued to renew her strength little by little.)

I am pondering on prayer these days. The importance of it, the rhythm of daily stops for it, and just what to say.......I'm tiring of the littleness of my prayers and, honestly, the flatness of them. I want to be a little servant with big faith. Mountains can move if they must, I just want to pray the heart of my Father.

School tends to move along well. Why does it seem that I can't fit in the things that are so important to me like fine arts & classical music and somehow view them as optional? Oh to be stirred by the beauty of God inspired art and music! It sets the soul to dance with wonder and happiness. I am choosing this year to be more intentional in this. We are going to The Kimball Art Museum on Wed! We are looking forward to it!

Well, today is a new day.....and I'm glad. I love the newness of the year and how fresh it seems. I'm so thankful for a new start. Whether it is the new year or a new day, I'm so grateful to begin again. This poor soul desperately needs it!

His mercies are new every morning,
Jules