May 3rd, 2016
Father, forgive me my willful ways. Help me focus on the Pearl of Great Price from Matthew 13:45 - 46.
“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it.
Two short verses. Also, the Fool from MOTT The Fool is the one who is consumed with the pearl of great price–which is the redemption of our souls in Christ’s sacrificial blood. So is the merchant a fool or a clever manager of his assets? The worldly think him a fool, the people of God see a clever trader. The fool has his relationship with Eternal set right his focus on eternal values. With God, incredible triune God, who amazement of amazements wants us in relationship with Him. So we continue to press our hands into his hand by studying the word, and living clothed in prayer and gratitude. Living holy lives as best we can.
Father, who could have foreseen that I’d be so changed, and so glad for it! Only You. How can I keep from singing? Amen
March 29th, 2016
My favorite religious blogger (though he might deny the characterization) took up blogging again. It does become a form of prayer, and I suspect he missed it, as I do. The other thing I miss is sewing together scraps of fabric. If I go a day or two without at least running a few seams, I get really cranky. So here is the top I got to a quitting place on today. I think it’s due another border, because It’s only 60 x 60, and it looks unfinished to me. But I’ll leave it til some $$ overtake me, and I can buy a matching border, and maybe even a fabric for the back. I have plenty of other project to poke along on for a few days.
It’s odd how much the glow of Easter shines on this year. Perhaps it is the time I spend doing Bible Study Fellowship stuff, but more likely just deepening faith. Who knew ten years ago, this would be where I’d land today? Certainly not me. Julie mentioned something about having been susceptible to the Jesus willies in the past, and I could say the same. What happens to completely change your point of view? I can point to influences, but it seems like it’s the hound of heaven. I’ve written about this before, but it’s amazing to contemplate. All I know is that day to day, it is just normal, but over ten years, it’s nothing short of miraculous.
Gagdad wrote something today about the wounds and referenced MOTT. No mystery I guess, because I often go back and dig into MOTT, but it seems a bit of synchronicity that I’m poking there now, but trying to figure out what the friend is telling me about intuition (The moon is the letter.) I think I gno what he’s on about in the stagnation and closed world thinking that our human logic and attachment to created things gets us into… like the snake eating his own tail. Went our friend starts trying to explain how to work on this sort of thinking that opens up into intuition, I’m afraid I get lost in the Hebrew words (transliterated) and just frankly way above my understanding, but I keep thinking that my intuitive gifts could stand some augmentation if I see how ….so, guess I’ll poke my nose into a book and call it a night.
It’s a night.
March 25th, 2016
We met with the treasurer of Camellia Quilter’s to check into the books. C– was off to the side of the board meeting, and was working alone glueing quilt blocks to run them through the machine quickly. They were blocks of Millie’s. Millie’s funeral had been in the last couple weeks. Her spirit of kindness, but also interest, curiousity, and joy in living will stay with the guild for a good while. Her last few weeks she was in one of the local nursing homes, and she wanted to hand sew a quilt, so C– had cut it out for her, but she didn’t finish it. Those were the pieces to be sewn later. Millie infected all those who knew her with a glad spirit.
Wednesday morning, I received news that my Uncle Jesse had died in the night. He too lived in infectious joy. He had played music on his favorite Ovation guitar in the very recent past. Everyone hoped he’d recover quickly, but this Easter he will pass in paradise. We can’t take our toys with us, but I sure hope our merciful God will loan him a guitar to play into eternity.
Today my daughter and son in law came from Houston for Easter weekend. Their nieces greeted them with glee, and a great desire to share the stink foot.
Barry also shared the Trinidad way to celebrate Holy Friday. You make an effigy of Judas, called Bobolee, perhaps paste the face of someone you respect little, and set him out for all and sundry to take a whack. A well built Bobolee might last all day!
January 16th, 2016
Now just to get the back together and take it to a Mona to quilt….. The quilt top for the grandgirl’s school auction is made. 60 x 60 inches.
I swore off bridge tournaments last spring or summer when the ACBL nationals were here. But a regional I could drive to, and play in one event only made me break my word. We played in a single elimination tournament as a team of four. We squeaked by the first two opponents and then met a bump we couldn’t overcome. I never dreamed this team was in our bracket, but they were. A much stronger team than we were.
Last night I went to bed trying to get the bridge cooties off of me and wondering why I disliked the women we played against so much. Then I heard a commentary on the movie, King of Kong. It’s a documentary on the world of gamers, specifically those who are still living in Donkey Kong world. The high scorer has held his title for many years, and was challenged and beaten. But in the commentary on the man, the King of Kong, was insufferably arrogant and self-important, based solely on his ability to play a video game. Bridge world is littered with quite a few people who are in the same league.
Being able to play bridge decently is NOT my main point of pride. Some of the top bridge players are quite able to imitate the King of Kong. Anyway, I was at a table for 12 hands where the air was practically sucked out of the room by “Her Arrogantness.” There are a lot of ways to assuage my poor wounded ego. For the most part I’ll just think about it no more! Likely if I go soft again and go to a tournament, it’s highly unlikely I’ll play against the Ice Queen.
January 13th, 2016
No, I’m not going to beg. But one thing that is on my mind is getting through this month. So when I picked up the first of Mother’s books, what did I turn to but my grandparents budget. This is the journal entry Mother reports for January 30, 1919
Cash on hand 146.35
Liberty Bonds 250.00
Notes Recievable (from Mamma) 130.00
Notes Recievable (from University) 116.66
Oil Royalty Evaluation 1000.00
Credit with Chicago Bank 40.38
Net worth 2633.39
Fay allowance 15.00
Ray allowance 12.50
Heat and light 7.00
Newspapers and Magazines 1.50
I notice that he planned to tithe, and that the line item for savings was even bigger than the tithe. Mother got her life long accounting habits honestly.
January 4th, 2016
Into the wilds of midcity New Orleans. This is a random house in New Orleans. The homes fascinate me. The architectural detail people put into these houses, modest homes always surprises.
January 3rd, 2016
Louisiana is warm and the fireworks are thick at midnight as we move into a new year. I awoke after mostly slumbering through the commotion to a cold, damp house. Stumbling around a bit, I discovered the reason I could hear the morning rain so well was that my front door was standing ajar with nothing between me and the weather. I’d been camping outside and didn’t even know it!
But as jarring as an open door is, it started a meditation on opening a new year, It reminded me that a challenge before me as I age is to push open the closed doors of my life. Clearly this is not a new thought, as I saved and pasted to my composition book currently in use for journalling, a church bulletin of the same message.
Today is the first Sunday of the year. My plan is to pick up Louis for church and make him an offer of a room with heat for the remainder of the winter anyway. Let’s see if I keep my nerve!
January 1st, 2016
Christmas with the family in Houston was the end of the feasting season for me. But I’ll not type about that resolution tonight.
The main deal is to get a photo to post and tell a bit about it.
Luzon feng shui
The ex husband lives in Houston on Luzon. He’s got taste running through his veins. I was struck by the little side table in his kitchen. I call the photo the Luzon still life. He’d arranged some simple things so as to be attractive and something of a celebration of living.
So, now I’ve recalled how to get a photo posted. I am sure I’ve made it much more difficult than it has to be. Next I need to figure how to reduce the number of pixels so it can load on the receiving end of the interwebs at a decent speed.
Where are you on the resolution or no resolution thing. I’ve made it through Jan 1, and my 3 resolutions are still in tact. Posting some photos and some light lifting in the way of writing is my next hurdle.
Happy New Year. May 2016 bring blessings to one and all. I’ll still be working on gratitude and humility. A lifetime project that!
June 29th, 2015
Walking into the Light
What will it be passing from this world to the next?
May I place an order? For the visual effects, this will do quite nicely.
Bachground music please.
SS class last Sunday was on the waters of creation. I enjoyed teaching the class. God said let there be… and it was GOOD!
Humanity was given dominion over creation, which they’re defining down to stewardship, but that works for me. I’m not a tree hugger, but how can we trash what is so beautiful, so GOOD.
And the wage slaves have to work hard to not fall captive to busy. The seventh day of creation is to be honored. Stop. Listen. Let your creatiive nature, a godly gift, shine forth. Dream.
These last couple evenings have been relatively cool… 89 degrees and 98 percent humidity, but I’ve been wanting to get out into the magic evening light and see what this cool jewel of a camera can do.
So far I’m impressed enough to not regret paying for it.
Twelve photos I saved into iPhoto from this evening. I have spares for days ahead.
June 22nd, 2015
I started working on a SS lesson on baptism, and thought I’d find a photo of water to include. Not exactly a baptismal font there, but it’s the best of the evening.
I’m trying to channel my 12 year old self and recall what I thought about being baptized. None of my children were baptized because I didn’t feel like it was an adult choice. I was more worried about messing up somehow in front of the church. Guess that’s more than enough about my moment in front of the church!
Do you remember your baptism? Or confirmation? Was it meaningful to you?