tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50313892011-07-07T17:46:20.853-07:00Sparrow SongTo Pierce the Cloud of Unknowinghisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.comBlogger1011100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-19473432022972124922010-03-13T08:25:00.000-08:002010-03-13T08:50:47.999-08:00PigeonsAbundant gleanersBirds so gentle and nobleNot welcome at my feederhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-12465781798153671422010-03-11T09:40:00.000-08:002010-03-11T11:40:43.963-08:00An Interrupted PostI had an entire post written on a Mary and Martha theme. It was all about the conflict of work vs. resting. I deleted it because I began to sense the motivation for writing it was askew and most importantly, while I was in the middle of editing it, Jesus said to me, "Why are you worried about all these silly things you are writing about when I love you so much?" And then, I hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-61304718384647933112010-03-08T08:40:00.000-08:002010-03-09T08:36:47.886-08:00Some Thoughts on PaintingFragonard, a French romantic painter, painted during the time of the licentiousness of the French courts. He particularly chose the excess of that regime as his subject. I am drawn to his art because it is more than what is depicted. Fragonard's art often shows the subject in all the pomp and circumstance of his or her wealth involved in some frivolous activity while hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-48764567938467006442010-02-15T10:14:00.000-08:002010-02-15T15:42:30.663-08:00UpdatesLong time no blog. I have a moment to spare and some random thoughts.I am uneasy with the flow of life at present. I feel there is a great deal of activity and little purpose. I keep thinking of the biblical question, "Why do you spend money on what is not bread?" I am really questioning my appetite.We do put a great deal of energy into our perceived goals, but I wonder if in the end they hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-91497130365586222152009-07-27T17:19:00.000-07:002009-07-27T17:22:49.450-07:00Communication is hard.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-43453867827977406622009-07-15T09:50:00.000-07:002009-07-15T12:11:32.357-07:00CocoonsLife is cyclical. There is no denying it. If you read this, you are in a cycle. Whether at a cellular, psychological, spiritual, financial or circadian level, you are somewhere within a cycle.Cycles for the most part come in stages. Stages of cycles are not equal. Though all are critical, some are just more pleasant than others. Take the cycle of a butterfly for instance. Caterpillering hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-45893763639795432122009-07-14T11:45:00.000-07:002009-07-14T14:09:50.856-07:00A Time to EmbraceI want to get back to blogging, but I am mired in being overly self-conscious about my post topics, inertia, time constraints etc. Facebook is a bit too superficial and its tentacles spread too far and doesn't seem to be the place for real thoughts...I could be wrong.I have sort of been re inspired to blog by an unlikely source....I barely know the person. I really enjoy her hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-21215087166149145442007-10-27T10:30:00.000-07:002007-10-27T10:47:36.564-07:00The BoatThe boat in Renouf's painting appears to be a character in the depiction itself. Ordinary, rough, and fairly confining, it possesses a life of its own and grounds the painting. For me it represents the idea of a believer’s journey. The Christian life, by nature, is a dynamic, purposeful movement. It is never stagnant even when it may, discouragingly, seem so. The journey is a precise hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-42927048114719833052007-10-20T11:47:00.000-07:002008-11-18T12:02:12.127-08:00The Helping Hand Art is a very important vehicle for the human soul. It challenges us and also represents the common story and struggle we all share. It is profoundly true that a picture is worth a thousand words. Yesterday, while going through some art cards from Caitlin’s fifth grade year, I found this portrayal of Emile Renouf’s painting, titled, The Helping Hand. It captures beautifully hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1155316468228941462006-08-11T10:06:00.000-07:002009-07-20T11:16:24.892-07:00Living With BirdsYears ago, inspired by a trip to the demonstration gardens, we decided trees brought not only continuous beauty, but also, refreshing shade to one’s little plot of land, so we planted many.The trees are maturing nicely and with this invitation, many species of birds have chosen to occupy the leafy spaces. Beauty is like that, it multiplies and invites. On a daily basis, I hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1153624437616841152006-07-22T19:13:00.000-07:002006-07-22T20:54:45.233-07:00Sitting HereJust sitting here, surfing the internet( procrastinating some needed studying for an exam), Gregg is on his way to pick up Serenity for a sleepover and Caitlin is into her last 30 minutes of her violin practice. She is playing, La Folia by Correlli and somehow I am inspired by the piece to write a blog spur of the moment.Caitlin went to a very advanced music camp for ten days in hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1146945847413429542006-05-06T12:47:00.000-07:002006-05-06T13:04:55.933-07:00A Good Sentence"For as far as the light of God is concerned, we are owls."Thomas Mertonhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1145635393709002812006-04-21T09:00:00.000-07:002006-04-21T09:03:13.716-07:00EffortlessThe most powerful thing about trees is that they make it look so easy; looking at them reminds me to avoid being a spiritual” try hard” or a spiritual “indifferent” because both extremes involve self-absorption.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1145386713189418472006-04-18T11:44:00.000-07:002006-04-19T15:35:36.670-07:00Continuing Left and the Confirmation of TreesTurning left seems at times to be my only connection to God lately.Driving up this path as often as I do, I ask each time what are the trees saying today? They have been in a continuous state of transition since I decided to notice them. The last of the pink blooms have been overcome by crimson leaves. In contrast, their neighbors are easy and peacefulhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1143521851211245832006-03-27T20:42:00.000-08:002006-03-27T20:57:31.223-08:00Palmer's JournalI will miss his entries. Though I didn't know him, his story and struggle helped my faith. I feel his life was so full of love and dignity. It spilled over into mine many times. I never fathom these hard things, but tonight I am very certain and secure that God is total love and peace because those are the things palmer's Journal taught me...hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1141587166082790172006-03-05T11:29:00.000-08:002006-03-05T11:44:19.776-08:00Turning LeftFrom October of 2005 until now I have taken a left turn on a tree lined street. As far as the eye can see there are two species of mature deciduous trees planted next to one another-- so close really that their branches intermingle.Last fall, when the strong winds undressed the boughs, I noticed the many evacuated nests peviously occupied in leafier months. Seeing them, I felt God washisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1130512774428338352005-10-28T07:21:00.000-07:002005-10-28T15:50:03.340-07:00Happy?About a year ago I attended meetings to support those with bi-polar disease and depression. Though raw and troubled, the people made me think about important things. Lately, I have been thinking of one man in particular. When he came to meetings, the ravages of his disease were visible and palpable. It was all he could do to sit for the duration of the meeting without becoming agitated and hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1128716122187577462005-10-07T12:56:00.000-07:002005-10-07T13:19:02.566-07:00Bird Watching 101Anyone who is close to me knows I have a thing about birds, especially the common unpopular ones. They connect me to God in a special way. When filling their feeder today, the beauty of the weather and sounds of their singing overwhelmed and suspended me for a moment and out of nowhere the first line of Psalm 24 came wafting through my thoughts.The Earth is the Lord's and hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1123449267701133172005-08-07T14:05:00.000-07:002005-08-07T14:14:27.706-07:00Emotional Wisdom: Note to SelfAnyone can become angry---that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose and in the right way---this is not easy.Aristotlehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1119476682637501812005-06-22T14:10:00.000-07:002005-06-22T14:44:42.656-07:00Book Tag Okay Cheryl, here it is. I ‘m nervous when it comes to discussing books because I don’t consider myself well read especially where fiction is concerned. I started a journey to read great literature over a year ago, but I have taken few steps. I get contemptuous taunts from Virginia Wolf and Cervantes every time I dust their spines. Yet, in my ridiculous quest to be “edjamucated,”I hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1118892728938889122005-06-15T20:27:00.000-07:002005-06-15T20:42:45.890-07:00Bronwyn at EightShe is eight. I would like to freeze her at this age. Today we had a delightful conversation in the Target snack bar while Caitlin was at her violin lesson. It was not so much the depth or content of the dialogue; rather it was her intensity and innocence about life. It was one of those great parental circumstances when you know the moment is special or perhaps, sacred and will hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1116778131158342712005-05-22T08:55:00.000-07:002005-05-22T09:08:51.163-07:00A Hard WeekThis week Caitlin was formally diagnosed with Scoliosis. She was fitted for what will be an extremely restrictive and uncomfortable brace which will need to be worn for 23 hours a day. The fitting process itself was very hard on her modesty and the realization of eighteen months of observation and restriction with no guarantee of preventing a corrective surgery was about all she could hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1112640032721231722005-04-04T11:28:00.000-07:002005-04-04T11:45:39.873-07:00Black MondayToday I am irrelevant and wobbly. I have fallen through the hole in my net. But my coffee tasted so good because I learned to add a pinch of salt to the grounds.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1111954738129337112005-03-27T12:16:00.000-08:002005-03-27T12:18:58.133-08:00He is not here; he has risen, just as he said.On the first Easter morning, the apostles and the holy women did not see a ghost of Jesus. They saw him in the flesh, but in a different flesh, as the oak tree is different from the acorn that was its origin. We touch on the mystery of a body, not just Jesus’ body but our own, which will express us at our best, will not blunt our spirit with wearinesshisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1111813232156950062005-03-25T20:59:00.000-08:002005-03-25T21:05:11.033-08:00Good FridayWho has believed what we have heard? And to whom has the arm of the LORD been revealed? For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1111347308786797782005-03-20T11:24:00.000-08:002005-03-20T11:35:08.786-08:00Ice Cream SocialBronwyn has completed her Ice cream graph based on those who responded. Chocolate was the winner. Orange sherbert was second and strawberry came in third. As a thankyou, we are bringing ice cream tonight to serve in cones after the meeting. Hope to see you there.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1110569522430075332005-03-11T11:22:00.000-08:002005-03-11T11:32:02.433-08:00Help BronwynBronwyn has to make a graph. She has chosen to compare information on three ice cream flavors: Chocolate, Strawberry, and Orange sherbert. If you came to her party, which flavor would you choose.Thankshisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1110182467957391952005-03-06T23:37:00.000-08:002005-03-07T00:01:07.960-08:00The Family of GodTwenty years ago Gregg and I attended a major denominational church. We were married there, sang in the choir, dedicated Caitlin at the altar and were, what we believed, committed to the body.From time to time the pastor, a loving man, would stand before his flock and announce the numbers of people that had been added to the church that month through their confession of Christ hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1100225841313406472004-11-11T18:12:00.000-08:002004-11-11T18:17:21.313-08:00Answer
He could no longer bear
The aggression of sparrows,
The din of crows in the trees;
And no pity remained in his heart
For the starlings tcheering on the lawn,
Unkempt and hungry after their journey.
He began to berate the God of Birds
Until walking by the sea at Kilcoole,
Two swans came towards him,
White and suddenly on the water.
-Pádraig J. Daly
What a beautiful poem about God's hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1099624286650759352004-11-04T17:02:00.000-08:002004-11-04T19:11:26.650-08:00God's Grandeur
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil:
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, beinghisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1098586017114284562004-10-23T19:34:00.000-07:002004-10-23T19:48:06.246-07:00Stars and Dots
I have been trying to read to the girls in the evenings. Thursday night they chose all the stories they liked when they were “little.” One book, You Are Special, written by Max Lucado, which wasn't one of their favorites, made its way in the stack. It really got my attention as I read it.
This is an excerpt from the beginning of the story:
The Wemmicks were small wooden people hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1096352146216013002004-09-27T20:41:00.000-07:002004-09-27T23:15:46.216-07:00God of Wonders
Caitlin is studying Apologetics. Today we began a chapter which discussed the Teleological Argument. In trying to prove that nature does exhibit design, some facts were brought out about the Universe that made me marvel and want to fall on my face.
The Universe (and this does not even include its outer limits which have not been measured yet) is estimated to be 20 billion hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1095972055694320562004-09-23T13:51:00.000-07:002004-09-23T13:40:55.696-07:00Pelican Facts
This afternoon, our science study was about winter birds. Bronwyn liked the topic so much she asked if we could learn more about birds. I happened to have some lovely large picture cards of birds from the United States and we looked at them enjoying all their different attributes. I left her at the table to browse them on her own. As I surfed the internet, I could hear her readinghisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1094258823760774622004-09-03T17:35:00.000-07:002004-09-03T17:47:03.760-07:00If It's not Santa, It's Peter Pan
Bronwyn has been reading a chapter from an abridged version of Peter Pan to me every night before bedtime. She has watched every movie about Peter and wanted to read the adventures. The other night she asked me if we could leave the window open for him before we went to sleep.
.........I said okay but only after she has fallen asleep.
hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1092865132111495712004-08-18T13:32:00.000-07:002004-08-18T14:41:55.563-07:00Mid-life and Santa Suits
I have been made aware of advertisements at the top of my blog. I just clicked on it and presently it advertises, "Mid-life assitance" and "Santa Suits". Well, I must say, these titles do describe a bit of life I'm presently experiencing.
This morning I went to the gym and did my weight class (the one that keeps my hormones and mid-section in line), had an in-depth hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1091937304960428622004-08-07T20:44:00.000-07:002004-08-07T21:38:51.483-07:00A Day
9-2:30 The girls wake up, have some morning time and begin their lessons. Bronwyn has a final spelling test which she aces (as usual). She then reads about ostriches, beavers, squirrels, and the platypus. She is fascinated by the pictures and because it lays eggs, is not sure why a platypus is a mammal. “It provides milk for its young,” I say, and show her a picture of two red furless hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1091806714971282332004-08-06T08:19:00.000-07:002004-08-06T08:38:34.973-07:00What's in a name
In Hollywood the old formula for finding a stage or screen name was to take your middle name as your first name and the name of the first street you lived on as your last name. For example, If I was a screen or stage star back in the day, my autograph would be Christine BuenaVista. Gregg's would read, Thomas Wedikind.
Now on the other hand and much more interesting, if you werehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1091717988549059432004-08-05T07:01:00.000-07:002004-08-05T08:05:04.763-07:00Tell Me What Hurts You
This is an entry in a Brennan Manning devotional that I have been thinking about lately.
An old Hasidic Rabbi, Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev in the Ukraine, used to say that he discovered the meaning of love from a drunken peasant. The Rabbi was visiting the owner of a tavern in the Polish Countryside. As he walked in, he saw two peasants at a table. Both were gloriously in hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1091652210539559262004-08-04T13:41:00.000-07:002004-08-04T23:25:19.930-07:00My friend
I really love my friend Carolyn, the budnickchick...she gets it.
hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1090734180780046942004-07-24T22:21:00.000-07:002004-07-24T22:43:48.636-07:00Turning over a new blogI turned 44 yesterday. Instead of turning over a new leaf, as some do in mid-life, I thought......why not change my blogskin? That's safe. Getting plastic surgery; nursing AIDS orphans in a third world country; having that change of life baby and moving to the Pacific Northwest while going to college to become a writer might be a bit too risky. Yes, a blog-skin change is hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1090301755862125282004-07-19T22:17:00.000-07:002004-07-19T22:35:55.863-07:00
How or rather how not to end the willing suspension of disbelief…..
“The willing suspension of disbelief is the ability to believe which is born firmly in all children, and which often withers as we are taught that the world of faerie imagination is not true.”
I was reading these thoughts from a book on faith and art; they made me think about a conversation with Bronwyn a week ago. hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1088971651016645562004-07-04T12:39:00.000-07:002004-07-04T13:27:34.460-07:00Right now.....
Mental illness is a thief. It is insidious and discouraging. It is a cold sore that people, because they are forced to, look at and can do nothing except comment on its ugliness once they've retreated from it. To struggle with mind or emotion is to engage an opponent that will stand its ground amid cognitive platitudes, patronizing and potions. Today it wins.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1088225048219041282004-06-25T21:18:00.000-07:002004-06-25T21:44:53.290-07:00The Piano
We now have a piano. We bought it last night from Steve and Yvette. Kenny and Dave were strong and kind enough to help Gregg bring it home. It needs some tuning but it is beautiful. I have always wanted a piano because everyone gets a little friendlier when they are around one.
Ever since I can remember, my sister has had a piano in her home. Her daughters have been raised on it hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1087869625731191062004-06-21T18:58:00.000-07:002004-06-21T19:00:25.733-07:00 The Language of Abandonment
Wonderful things were spoken last night at Apex. It felt as if I was someone who had been in a foreign land for a long time and suddenly heard my mother tongue spoken. It was familiar and affirming to me and very strengthening.
Maybe that is what the foreigners felt when they heard the Apostles speaking of the wonders of God in their own tongue while they were hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1087570545140919122004-06-18T07:25:00.000-07:002004-06-18T07:56:23.966-07:00A Long Obedience in the Same Direction
That is a title to a book that just got to me. Sometime in the future I will read that book. Books help me. I guess the words struck me because I have been teaching ancient history at home to the girls studying the journey of how nomadic people on different continents wandered foraging and following their food supply until they settled near the great hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1087268171556685782004-06-14T19:52:00.000-07:002004-06-14T20:00:40.556-07:00By the way,
This story is laugh out loud funny and was an inspiration in getting enough guts to suggest a writing club.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1087253704327628192004-06-14T15:43:00.000-07:002004-06-14T15:55:04.326-07:00Writing Club
I wanted to know if there was anyone out there in the community interested in starting a writing club. I would host it at my house. It would not have to be there on a consistent basis either. We could also meet at the library or other location. Some thoughts I had for the format are inspired by the book, Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott. My e-mail is hisheidi@cox.net if you are hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1087159762365574572004-06-13T13:05:00.000-07:002004-06-13T13:49:22.366-07:00Kitchen Sink Lessons
Within your four walls there are places (at least for me) which are teaching places, worship places and resting places. Today I want to talk about my kitchen sink; It a teaching space. When I am at the kitchen sink, many of my unlovely characteristics spew forth. Sometimes out loud (to the pain of those within earshot) and sometimes I clink and clank dishes to the music hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1086387362803328992004-06-04T14:49:00.000-07:002004-06-04T15:16:02.803-07:00Today I celebrate 20 years of marriage. I found this poem written by someone else but the words are what I am feeling today.
We've traveled several rocky roads together.
Sometimes I didn't think we'd get this far.
Three children and twenty-five years later
We're more a couple than we ever were.
Years of trying polished off the edges
Because we both possessed the will to try.
What we got is onehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1079915230839464552004-03-21T16:27:00.000-08:002004-03-21T16:31:37.030-08:00Springtime
The Late Singer
Here it is spring again
and I still a young man!
I am late at my singing.
The sparrow with the black rain on his breast
has been at his cadenzas for two weeks past:
What is it that is dragging at my heart?
The grass by the back door
is stiff with sap.
The old maples are opening
their branches of brown and yellow moth-flowers.
A moon hangs in the blue
in the early hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1075667687865631172004-02-01T12:34:00.000-08:002004-02-01T12:39:50.700-08:00Books
I have appreciated the book lists which were posted by Phil and Greg; many of which I have read and found equally insprational and influential.
I would like to encourage people to read the books they listed ,but also, add a few books that I believe might inspire or encourage. They were great to read as I began a journey initiated by Jesus calling me off the Christian Bandwagon and hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1074904737331351712004-01-23T16:38:00.000-08:002004-01-23T17:02:25.060-08:00A picture
I frequently check the shelves of the used book section at the Summerlin library. It is amazing what patience and persistence has brought to me as a reward . One of my great finds was a book of Carl Sandburg's poetry. It cost me a dime and has given me some moments of pleasure. As I glanced through it today, I came across one of his more famous poems: Fog. Whether meant to be orhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1074795996351575592004-01-22T10:26:00.000-08:002004-01-22T10:43:30.310-08:00
You are cordially invited to a party (please read the fine print)
If you received that invitation from me and then at the bottom, in fine print, it said the theme of the party was a pity party with me as the guest of honor would you come? No you would not, because no matter how great the decorations, food or location the baggage attached would turn the dip and champagne into bitter swill.
hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1074639474009843502004-01-20T14:57:00.000-08:002004-01-20T14:59:52.746-08:00Descending
I guess since my last entry about my belief in hope I am being put to the test as a mild depression seems to be approaching. Since stopping medication for my mood disorder last march--- (A feat I consider, so far, successful as I have not yet been committed and my family seems to be fairly well intact) the way I navigate this territory has taken on a fairly routine rhythm. I make hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1074452366516157222004-01-18T10:59:00.000-08:002004-01-20T15:03:53.030-08:00The Pianist
Some time ago, Joe blogged a reaction to the film The Pianist. It was funny that at the time he and his tribe were watching it at the big house; I was watching it in my very small one, alone. I was so moved by the movie that night; I told Gregg I had to blog my thoughts on it. But Joe had beaten me to it….and shared similar responses which I had as well.
One thing that he didn’hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1072826989841695452003-12-30T15:27:00.000-08:002003-12-30T19:27:09.966-08:00Daddy’s Snow
On December 6, 1998 on a quiet morning, a pure, mystical snow fell. It covered the ground in serene, white completeness. As I watched it fall, my spirit was told to pay attention……this was no ordinary snow.
On that unique Sunday morning five years ago, my stepfather and only person I ever called, "Daddy," was dying. My sister and I had brought him to live with us from hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1072034282584672332003-12-21T11:18:00.000-08:002003-12-30T19:26:50.263-08:00...hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1069802662983442122003-11-25T15:24:00.000-08:002003-11-25T15:31:53.826-08:00Passages
I am going to my sister’s for Thanksgiving and all guests are requested to say what they are thankful for as they light a candle. I have been pondering what to say for some time and even though the standard niceties; my family; my health; abundance; a loving community etc., are what I should say, all that seems to come to mind is a sense of loss; I do not think this is necessarily hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1069015146526104982003-11-16T12:39:00.000-08:002003-11-17T08:16:59.030-08:00
Legend: Black is the Color of My True Love’s Hair
I realized as I sat listening to a string concert yesterday at Ham Hall, how long it had been since my soul had been nourished. The nourishment was pure worship in spirit and in truth for me. I do not intend to be offensive when I say not much of the music in contemporary church leads my soul to worship. For me, listening to Vivaldi’s: Stabathisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1068314151615856052003-11-08T09:55:00.000-08:002003-11-08T09:56:12.310-08:00 Being Myself
I was thinking about, or rather, I was made aware of how careless I can be in my prayer life. I find myself praying the old standard: help me to be more like Jesus in my life……… yadah, yadah, yadah, you know how it goes. But, as I was in my location of a higher spiritual plane, that is, in the kitchen, washing dishes, a little small voice was challenging my perfunctory request. Ihisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1066603774400518452003-10-19T15:49:00.000-07:002003-10-19T15:49:34.096-07:00And On and on she goes; random thoughts written over a period of time
When depressed people feel happiness, it is not wasted or taken for granted.
When I am stressed by a situation I can’t finish my thought or sentence.
Sometimes when I wake up in the middle of the night I have a strange feeling that I don’t exist.
Sometimes I wish I could be an anorexic again…but an hour later , I say hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1066429678138099262003-10-17T15:27:00.000-07:002003-10-17T15:27:57.916-07:00Saying goodbye to my friend
I will miss Carolyn. She has moved away. I met her in housechurch. Through a series of unfortunate events, she left house church and so did I. In the midst of it all; we became close. We tread very familiar ground and we can speak of hard things without diminishing one another’s spirits. It has always been easy to be in her presence.
The people that have chosen tohisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1064767904949861092003-09-28T09:51:00.000-07:002003-09-28T09:51:44.443-07:00Inspired
I watched Anne Lamott on C-SPAN’s Mid-West Writing Festival last night. She wrote Traveling Mercies, a book about her journey to God. It is one of the most beautifully honest and real descriptions of the spiritual life on life’s terms I have ever read. She is not your garden variety believer. To many mainstream evangelicals, she would be …….oh let’s see…..Out…… basically. She is a hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1064689797666398352003-09-27T12:09:00.000-07:002003-09-27T12:30:08.393-07:00A dream
This is a dream my sister shared with me a long time ago. I have been thinking about it lately. I am going to narrate the dream as if it were a scene from a movie to help me tell it better.
SCENE:
The camera pans through a crowded city of people numbly going about their business. In the midst of this city, there is a room. It is transparent, made, perhaps, of glass. From time to timehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1064513738146045892003-09-25T11:15:00.000-07:002003-09-25T11:15:38.070-07:00Slice of life
I am sitting here and surfing blogs and Bronwyn is cruising around the flood positioned funiture on her razor scooter and Gregg says,"Hey,did ya know Joe is directing the Christmas show?" "Maybe I'll audition".. .....I'll play a workaholic."
"No," says Bronwyn, " You should be the psycho Chritmas elf," as she scooters by.hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1064364503295966032003-09-23T17:48:00.000-07:002003-09-23T18:08:32.030-07:00A Grand Conversion
I finished reading my husband’s blog. I spotted a spelling error that struck me. I believe he intended to spell the word ‘conversation’ not conversion, when he said he had a “grand conversion with Bronwyn.” I think that the right word is there and should not be corrected.
It is in these things that I find Jesus and His sparrow moments. I think the beauty of Jesus was hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1064277642489730112003-09-22T17:40:00.000-07:002003-09-22T17:40:42.133-07:00Today
Today is a difficult day. I am trying to keep all the plates spinning but most seem to never even get off to a wobble and the others are crashing in pieces to the floor.
Today is one of those days where I must accept that, sometimes, life just does not work.
I don’t want a solution I don’t want a miracle…….I would miss the lesson if I asked for it all to be fixed……
I just want Jesus.
hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1063475927366894112003-09-13T10:58:00.000-07:002003-09-13T11:31:21.556-07:00
A Tribute
I just finished reading my friend Kristine's most recent blog. Although she is not aware of some of the recent conversations and events related to my friends in Saga, and would be horrified that I am referencing her blog as well as posting a picture of her I love, I thought it particularly providential that she wrote the thoughts she did. They express, so well, what in my heart, I hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1060702308256376312003-08-12T08:31:00.000-07:002003-08-12T08:31:48.253-07:00Grief
I am grieving for Jennifer Palmer. Her physical body died this morning and I am so grieved for this loss for her family and friends. She is a complete stranger to me but I was drawn to her story through the blogging community. I have been allowed to, in some small way, be a part of her story. Her husband Mark so graciously and courageously kept her journey documented as he shared her painhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1060534477039203942003-08-10T09:54:00.000-07:002003-08-10T09:54:37.013-07:00
The Wonder Of It All
I was reading to the girls today from a little nature manual about the nest building skills of the paper wasp and the mud wasp. I became fascinated with the architectural ability of the paper wasp to not only chew up bits of wood and with its own chemistry and anatomy turn it to paper, but then, to build, with no blueprint or permit, an architectural marvel of hundreds ofhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1059350135549660462003-07-27T16:55:00.000-07:002003-07-27T16:55:35.383-07:00 A girl
I got to be a bachelorette for over 48 hours and it was wonderful....now if I could have 48 more I would.......want 48 more and so on. I guess time alone, really alone; helps you realize how burnt out you are and……who you are. Now, according to life in this society, and the far from the center-like existence of my everyday life, I am JUST a stay at home mom who used to be a dancer for hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1059053609017052712003-07-24T06:33:00.000-07:002003-07-24T06:33:28.940-07:00 Gift from a Dead Guy and Other Things: a summation of my birthday….. which was yesterday
This summer I have been listening to music by the 17th century court composer Henry Purcell. He wrote in the middle baroque era. His music includes odes, ballads, opera, chamber, theater (he wrote an opera for Shakespeare’s, Midsummer Nights Dream called the Fairy Queen). I love music from this epoch. hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-1058935599816288542003-07-22T21:46:00.000-07:002003-07-22T21:46:39.673-07:00Bird by Bird
A quote from a book, titled " Bird by Bird," written by Anne Lamott ( Traveling Mercies) inspired me and sums up my present state at trying to blog after a bout with depression, busyness and allowing too much time to pass since my last entry. I read the quote, laughed out loud and thought about how true it is for me.....for so many of us. Tommorrow is my Birthday and I think I hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-955625032003-06-11T13:16:00.000-07:002003-06-11T13:18:52.000-07:00Velveteen Rabbit
The children's story about a little rabbit who, through a boys love, becomes real, is a modern parable to me. I don't know if the writer was a believer, but the story is full of the gospel. I don't know how it came about, but the Lord used this humble little story ( among many other things) to bring some clarity during some time of uncertainty and disillusionment last Fall.
hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-952582322003-06-03T16:10:00.000-07:002003-06-04T00:17:25.000-07:00Tangential thoughts on first Chapter of Clowning in Rome.
I have attempted several times to post my insights on Nouwen but have deleted it all because they became too polemic. Though visceral and what I think are truthful, they would betray the intention of my blog so I have waited until what I believe I could write was edifying yet, still, honest and not so angry. Also, I am waiting for a hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-945929252003-05-19T11:48:00.000-07:002003-05-19T11:48:03.570-07:00Monday blessing
On Mondays I go to a bike class at 9am. I have to get there by 815 am to sign up and get a bike because it is so popular. So I spend the rest of the 45 min. and sit in the car. I usually read or pray etc. Today, I forgot the book I am reading so I turned on a CD I love to meditate on the Lord to and I was so overwhelmed by him all of a sudden...there are times when he does thathisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-945394472003-05-18T09:07:00.000-07:002003-05-18T09:07:53.020-07:00 Remembering Good and Noble things …….Philippians 3:8
I found this in a word document I had written the day I found out that Mr. Rogers died (I cried). I grew up glued to Mr. Rogers. I loved him ….my sister would say he bored her and he was probably too low tech for some kids (how sad is that?), but he was so gentle to me, a television fantasy father. I loved the make believe and he and hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-945152412003-05-17T16:35:00.000-07:002003-05-17T16:35:24.926-07:00 The Legend of the Thorn Bird
There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-943537202003-05-14T15:30:00.000-07:002003-05-14T15:30:32.116-07:00Clowning in Rome
I would like to join the reading club....I haven't read that one yet and would love to blog some thoughts, especially on Nouwen . I read Phil's Blog last night and wanted to say I look forward to him blogging more. hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-943452572003-05-14T12:43:00.000-07:002003-05-14T15:06:26.000-07:00An Anniversary
It has been one year today that we moved from a 2500 square foot home to our 1488 square foot home. The differences in the mortgages is about as dramatic as the footage. We have done a lot to this little fixer upper. I am hoping our pool will be finished by my daughter's birthday in June. I think I will call it home for awhile and put more of my self and personality into it.
hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-943075482003-05-13T20:56:00.000-07:002003-05-13T20:56:29.053-07:00Contemplation: to view or consider with continued attention.
Contemplatives dwell on God. I think contemplation is communing, dare I say, having church with yourself. I am always drawn to read books about great Christian contemplatives. They learned how to live in the presence of God. They passed from "Christian Activity" to the higher call to be at home in the heart of God. This doesn't mean hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-942416352003-05-12T19:55:00.000-07:002003-05-12T19:55:03.040-07:00Vacations are good for the soul
I am back from my Mother’s day weekend in Carlsbad California. I absolutely love it there. I could live there and start my third career as a writer if I had 850,000 bucks for a 1300sq. ft, two bedroom on the ocean and had any actual talent for writing. Everything seems so much more alive there, me included…… I think this desert rose is fading and could use a hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-940278222003-05-08T19:38:00.000-07:002003-05-08T19:38:24.886-07:00Eva Regine Schubert
That is the name of my mother. Today is her birthday. She was born in 1936 in a very small but historical city outside of Dresden in Germany. Her formative years were spent in bomb shelters and missing most of school because she had Lymph tuberculosis. She was a teutonic beauty....Hitler's ideal child. Her father Rudolph, was a butcher from a rich family and some thought hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-939611732003-05-07T18:19:00.000-07:002003-05-07T18:19:12.166-07:00Welcome Greg Hubbard
Looking forward to hearing your soul breathe. hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-939565272003-05-07T16:37:00.000-07:002003-05-07T16:37:51.193-07:00 I find myself answering to the cross ( my life and its unique trials) that Jesus has asked me to carry while following him, in the same negative pattern. I can't seem to stop the familiar reaction to the "little foxes" in my path. It is like I am an addict . I speak in anger when I know I should not, I despair over temporal things when I know I should not, I React,React, React......I want thehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-939403842003-05-07T11:10:00.000-07:002003-05-07T11:10:02.026-07:00I'm doing a little redesigning of my blog....and Gregg said he will help with making it more cool, like my friend Joe's. Hey, Kelly, want to come over so Gregg can help make your blog cool, like Joe's???? I'm going for a simpler look. I want it to look more like a journal and I prefer the font. hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-938246432003-05-05T14:48:00.000-07:002003-05-05T14:48:24.056-07:00I took the test
I have never seen or heard of the X-men but the test results said I was Jean Grey whoever she is. But I have always wanted to read minds......hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-938079902003-05-05T09:35:00.000-07:002003-05-05T09:35:07.670-07:00Places of Honor
Luke 14:8: When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited.
I have always been fascinated with the dynamics and intricacies of group interaction. There seems to be a phenomenon that when people gather ,the collection takes on its own personality based on the individuals of that group. Thehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-937582422003-05-04T12:47:00.000-07:002003-05-04T12:47:51.990-07:00Little girl's and their Daddy's
My husband works too hard. He has three videos due for intel and two freelance accounts going. We are going on the third week of working the weekends and working late into the night during the week and it has finally caught up with Daddy's girls.
My youngest one is laying in her room crying for daddy. On this beautiful spring day she wants daddy to stay home hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-936590812003-05-02T09:37:00.000-07:002003-05-02T09:37:28.243-07:00What I am going to do on my Summer vacation.
I homeschool my two daughters and today is our last day of school!!!!!!!!!!! Not that learning ever stops in the Stokes household but today I turn the last page of my teacher's manual and put down the textbooks. Before I rose to let the cat out, I lay in bed thinking of all the things I am going,or rather, want to do on my Summer vacation:
Take a hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-936357162003-05-01T21:22:00.000-07:002003-05-01T21:22:33.526-07:00One of my favorite poets is W. B. Yeats . He was a true Irishman and bohemian and wrote some of the most imaginative poetry ever (The lake Isle of Innisfree, When you are Old, the Sorrow of Love). He wrote a lot about the wisdom and the fact of growing old and as of late I have been pondering the exchange of youth and all its angst, neuroses, identity confusion, and anger with the wisdom and hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-935492162003-04-30T12:40:00.000-07:002003-04-30T12:48:56.000-07:00b>Transformation
This past weekend was one of those great 'hours' when I became pleasantly aware of the vivid work of the Holy Spirit. It is so easy to fall into believing that our spiritual journey is like a tedious trip through the desert by car on the way to a mountainlake vacation.....
nothing ...nothing ..more cactus and joshua trees ....road kill ....bugs on the wind shield.... nothing hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-933557052003-04-27T12:52:00.000-07:002003-04-27T12:52:02.693-07:00Amen
I just read Kelly Parker's blog so honestly and eloquently written about the battle of the Palmer family with cancer.
She titled her Blog "Blog Knots" due to her anxiety about remaining in unread -blog- limbo and boring people. If you read it, you will find her cares were for not!
And I say Amen to her thoughts and honesty. hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-932526712003-04-25T11:05:00.000-07:002003-04-25T11:05:05.256-07:00 Tears for a stranger
I read the blog of Mark Palmer. I have been praying for his wife and I mentioned her battle with stomach cancer in my last entry. When I got home from a meeting last night I checked in with his blog to see how the surgery to remove the cancer went. The prognosis is bad. They were unable to remove anything and have given her three months to live. I am heartbroken for themhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-931820462003-04-24T08:31:00.000-07:002003-04-24T08:31:18.026-07:00Dark Night
I had a bad night last night, some call them dark nights of the soul I call them evil. I couldn't fall asleep so I began to pray for a woman undergoing surgery for ovarian cancer that has seeded to her stomach and another woman battling brain cancer. Their stories have touched my life and I was thinking of those who love them and asking the Lord to help them in these trials.
I hisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-931394672003-04-23T15:20:00.000-07:002003-04-23T19:02:33.000-07:00 I have a two part Blog today. I want to discuss a short story I read by Truman Capote. I then would lould like to offer an analysis and possible explanation of the phenomenon of blogging.
Truman Capote was one of the greatest American writers. I read his short story, "A Christmas Memory" and was blown away!! Forgive the hyperbole, but I would sell my soul to write like that. But of coursehisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-930745092003-04-22T15:48:00.000-07:002003-04-22T15:48:25.270-07:00I have a mood disorder. It is a very mild form of bipolar disorder properly termed ,cyclothymia. I have had it since the sixth grade. I can even recall the moment when I became aware of it. My Mother has it; two of my aunts had it and my grandmother committed suicide. It is highly inherited and the stigma on people who suffer from it, is horrendous .....especially within the church. I thinkhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-929992852003-04-21T12:43:00.000-07:002003-04-21T12:43:53.093-07:00Meine liebe schwester
I am reading a book called The Cry of Spiritual Mothers and Fathers---it is an easy read and expresses sound wisdom. It brings to mind the relationship I have with my sister. I spoke to her yesterday before church. I truly love her.
My sister and I are spiritual mothers, especially to one another. We have been through so much together that we know exactly what to say orhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-929465302003-04-20T14:30:00.000-07:002003-04-20T14:40:17.000-07:00It is Easter morning and I am not in a consecrated building singing "Up from the Grave He Arose or doing an Easter egg hunt with multitudes of children competing for symbols that will be forgotten as quickly as eaten, or trying to make small talk with their parents about the weather,or worse, trying to discuss the most mysterious, transcendant event as the resurrection in some contrived christianhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5031389.post-895773142003-02-22T18:28:00.000-08:002003-04-20T11:25:39.000-07:00the wordhisheidihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05467190798623922973noreply@blogger.com0