Now

the big picture isn't finished
i look up, out and around and i don't see spring
yet
colorless
leafless
the softening limbs taunt me
tiny buds play with me as if an elementary school art class has been given markers to dot the sky
i know
i hear emerson
adopt the pace of nature: her secret is patience
i know
yet i fail

again and again i remind myself
the bigger picture isn't finished
is it ever?
really?
i watch my children
so many seasons have come
and gone
they're young, but old
kids, but not
breaking ground, showing their colors, more than a bud
not yet a flower
not finished, but flourishing
not perfect, but whole

could it be that the bigger picture is always finished?

always finished...
i look down, i look in, i look closely
i see stems stretch
small petals wink and the tiniest of flowers nod
we are whole
we are safe
in this moment we have all that we need
though we are not finished
though i am not finished
this elusive bigger picture just might be

and i am grateful
for the love
of now

Joining with

Texture Tuesday

and

Just Write

Thank You

O, Creator,

painter of the earth,

thank you 

for 

pink.

For cotton candy,

bubble gum,

barely there,

pale,

whispery,

wistful pink.

For pops of deep, playful,

merry-berry,

it's-almost-purple

pink!

For bold,

dusty

 and blushing pink.

I stand in awe.

I marvel.

Thank you for the gift of 

so many shades of

pink

each spring!

"All I have seen teaches me to trust 

the creator

for all I have not seen."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Linking up with 

Nurture Photography

and

Bigger Picture Moments

Choosing Green

It's different this time. 

Not for those directly in the path of the terror - I have no idea what that's really like.

Not for their families and loved ones...

It's not different for those directly affected by horrors like the bombing on Monday.

But it's been different this time for me. The same shock and horror and profound sadness that haunts us all in the aftermath of such frightful events has, yet again, taken root in my heart. We grieve with those who grieve and struggle to press on. To stand strong.

Boston strong.

It's different this time because Boston is home. And the many, many seeds of "could have been" continue to scatter across the soil of my imagination. Could have been these people standing right there. Could have been this other place, or that other corner. These "could have been" seeds, if allowed to take root, will grow up into fear and anxiety. I'm rattled - feeling unsettled, upside down. Scared. And I really don't like it.

So, in an effort to calm my fears, I'm choosing green. I'm focusing on new life. I'm wandering in open spaces, under blue skies - listening to birds and inviting the "this is my now" breeze to blow away those "could have been" seeds before they have a chance to grow roots. Because my now - for now - is safe.

 Walk with me.

"....whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right,

whatever is pure,

whatever is lovely,

whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy -

dwell on these things"

Philippians 4:8

Liking up with
Bigger Picture Blogs,
Little Things Thursday
and
Nurture Photography

Magnolias

Rooted in my first back yard
is an old Magnolia tree.
Small it was,
when small was I...
Now taller than the third floor roof
its branches faithfully announce
the thaw
the warmth
the next new beginning.

I've always loved that tree...
the way it peeked
into my brother's room
and gave shade to suppers
on the deck.

Yesterday I saw my first blooms of the season.

Not buds, but blooms!

As I crawled up inside the soft canopy

of the Magnolia tree

to capture pieces of its loveliness,

I planted my heart

in its sweet perfume

and rode the breeze 

toward home.

Joining my friends
for this week's
Bigger Picture Moment

Planting Seeds

"Do not judge each day by the harvest you reap

but by the seeds that you plant."

Robert Louis Stevenson

This quote.

I love and need this quote.

I "happened" upon it several years ago, and it changed me. 

These words are a breath of fresh air in an often smoggy world that seems obsessed with measuring and comparing and selling more of everything all the time. Things that are supposed to be measured (like an athlete's speed or a company's profit margin) are measured. And things that aren't supposed to be measured (like spiritual growth or a child's success) seem to also be measured in all sorts of stress-filled ways. Things that are supposed to be compared (like apples or automobiles) are compared....and oh, so many things (like physical appearance, how we parent, who goes to the better church and who has the most friends)...things that just aren't supposed to be compared are OVERLY compared. And, to me, there are things that are meant to be sold (like...well...things) and things that just aren't. Like love. Loyalty. Sex (which we all know is sold in thousands of ways that have nothing to do with actual prostitution). Friendship. And yes, I just have to say it. Religion. 

I have learned...slowly...to think about my days in terms of seeds planted. I can plant seeds of kindness. I can't control how someone reacts to those seeds, or control what they produce. But I sure can plant them. I can plant seeds of hard work or creativity. I can care for and nurture what and who are around me. But I just can't predict, determine, manage or manipulate exactly what is going to come as a result of what I give of myself. 

As an enabler, this is a hard lesson that I am continually learning. I have to fight to internalize this idea. To take responsibility for those seeds, and to let the results/rewards/reactions be what they may. More and more I feel like one of those birds....just sitting on a branch, chirping away. Another bird joins in. Then another. And, after a time, there's a chorus of goodness surrounding me. Chirpers free to come and go as they will....each of us glad to sing alone and able to enjoy our time together. No one scoring points for how long they stay, how many they bring to the party... 

or how perfectly they sing their tune. 

Linking up here

Well Loved

Breakfast was in the oven. I turned on the burner and put bacon in the frying pan. We were snowed in,  the sky was blue - that clear blue we only seen after a storm has blown through. I poured syrup into a small pitcher and walked back to the stove.

I growled a bit - quietly of course - when I noticed that the burner under the bacon was not heating up. Again. Crazy old stove. I picked up the pan to jiggle the burner, then felt the heat. I'd turned on the wrong burner. Sitting on the red hot, back right burner was the end of a four quart, heavy glass pyrex casserole dish. I touched it to slide it forward. OUCH. Burnt the end of my finger. I turned off the wrong burner, turned on the right one and turned away from the stove.

Sitting here five days later I still have no idea why I turned away from the stove. Why was I walking away from the bacon I needed to cook? I heard a small crackle, but didn't turn back around.

The next thing I knew there was a very loud crack of an explosion and glass was flying everywhere. I screamed and took the next few steps into the dining room. Before I could even turn around there was a husband by my side and a son bounding through the other kitchen door.

Without missing a beat, they handled it. One held me. The other got the broom. They cleaned. I left the room...I noticed some blood on my thumb and realized a teeny tiny shard of glass had nicked my clavicle. They cleaned glass off the stove, the floor, the sink...the counter. It had flown in, under and onto just about everything. There was even a hot piece of glass that singed the dining room rug.

Somehow,
while in the same room,
right in the middle of all that flying glass -
I had only been ever so slightly nicked.

If I had lingered even two more seconds in front of the stove that glass would have exploded right at my face.

If.

It's so odd to play and replay the events of those few short seconds in my mind and not be able to come up with any reason why I turned and walked away from the stove. All that's left is to be so very grateful that I did.

And grateful for the men in my life ~ for my guy. Who became the husband and who raised the son. Grateful for the son who's grown into a man so much like his father. They swooped in. As any damsel in distress would have hoped her heroes would. To comfort and reassure. To fix it all up, clean it up and take really good care of her.

So I don't need any roses or fancy chocolates for Valentines Day.
There has been swooping...
...and I know that I'm loved.

Linking up Here today

Winter Red

I love winter reds.
oh, sure...
soft spring reds,
saucy summer reds and
fiery fall reds
know how to charm us...
no lack of beauty there.

But I love the winter reds.
The misfit reds.
The standout reds.
The against all odds reds.

Can't freeze them out.
Can't bury them completely.
They just appear, as if from no where,
to remind us of all the life that's
brewing under the surface...
to remind us to find beauty today.
Now.
Beige and brown and gray and white beauty.
And some berry beauty.

Yeah, I love the winter reds



Sharing this Simple Moment that helps me see the Bigger Picture and linking up here.
Also linking up with Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

2013

"All who WANDER are not lost."
                                                                                  J.R.R. Tolkien

It has been hard to choose a word to carry me through 2013. 
So, to get me started, I chose a letter.
W.
Because...
...I will continue to walk...one of my very successful 2012 pursuits. {will.not.loose.this.focus.}
...I will write more. 
...I will drink more water and eat more water {yes, I said eat...you know, fruits and veggies}
...and I will continue to pursue answers to my questions about worship.

That list was easy. Obvious. A continuation of the best that these past few years have given me.
{Well, except the water - I really need to eat more fruits and veggies.}

As I thought about beginning this new year, I discovered that I long for a continuation of what is. As I wracked my brain looking for some big new idea, I had to admit that I'd be fine with my current path. This was so shocking! And comforting. And confusing.

It all got me thinking...why? What about this past year or so has been so fulfilling? And in asking that question, I found my word for this next year. Ironically...it too begins with a W!

Wander:
To ramble without a definite purpose or objective; roam; rove.
To go aimlessly, indirectly or casually; meander.
To go astray, as from a path or course.

Seems like an odd word to choose - no definite purpose or objective in goal setting?? How can I choose aimlessness when the point is to set a path, to stay the course? 

Because I long to be led.
Led by the Spirit.
By all that is beautiful around me.
By good choices made - in the minute.
Because I love the sense of peace and calm and timelessness that takes over as one meanders.
Because it really is all about the journey. And I want my day to day to reflect that notion.

"Show me your ways, Lord,
teach me your paths.
Guide me in your truth and teach me,
for you are God my Savior,
and my hope is in you all day long.
Remember, Lord, your great mercy and love,
for they are from as old."
Psalms 25:4-6

May we all enjoy whatever wanderings come our way in 2013!




Linking up at Alita's place today!

My Best Gift {Bigger Picture Moment}

Stress swallowed me whole at about six o'clock on Christmas day.

Turns out, the brakes on my car were shot - started hearing a funny noise on Christmas Eve...and when my son used the car Christmas day, we knew it was time to take the car in. Quickly.

Especially because there's a road trip happening. My brother and I are driving from Boston to Philadelphia to spend four days with my dad. This is a rare treat - a never before {who knows if ever again} rare treat. And I'm happy about this. Very. About time with my brother, and time with my dad...and a little time away.

But have you ever been happy/sad? Or happy/stressed? As Christmas dinner was winding down, the lists started churning in my mind. Laundry, packing, maps, brakes....all this with work on the day between 'brake emergency' and 'road trip'....add to that feelings that come with travel - it's been a really long time since I've been away from my husband for four days. I've never been away from him at this time of year. Throw in the tension that always accompanies my mom's visits (and there have been two of those in two days - eek!) .... well, I was sliding quickly down that slippery slope towards the pit where 'cranky-mess-of-a-me' tends to hibernate.

At the end of the day, after the dishes were done and the candles blown out, I climbed the stairs, walked into our familiar bedroom, and melted into my flannel pajamas. I got a little teary, putting words to the feelings ... telling the man that knows me so well things he could have guessed to be true. He knew how to tell me he'd miss me. And reminded me how important and special it was to get to go. He rubbed my shoulders, held my hand and brought reason, perspective, comfort and love to the end of our Christmas day.

Those few moments...those moments of being known and loved and taken care of...that was my favorite gift on Christmas day. This man...who has helped to untangle the most hurt parts of me over many years...this man who brings laughter to the faces of my children as, together, they shine the light that gets me out of my serious, dark places....this man who's faithfully there - really there - every morning and every night. This man I love....the one who continues to help me unpack...yes, this man's the best gift I'll ever be given this side of heaven.




Linking up at Brooke's today.


{Photo is mine, Quote's author unknown}

Good Hours

One by one they come back down the stairs, a plate of hot food in their hands. The 

album pages have been pushed aside and the conversation is lively. I hear the pros 

and cons of marble vs. granite counter tops. I hear tips about good vacation spots. One 

woman is catching up with someone she hasn’t seen in a while, sensitively asking 

about her son’s progress in school. The middle school years were tough – the first year of 

high school is better.

The chicken – spinach – pasta bake that I made is a hit, and everyone’s wondering about my secret ingredients. The conversation shifts to pinterest.  iPhones buzz, and someone teases me about whether today’s lunch will make it onto the blog. I smile to myself, knowing that pictures of this meal are safely stored on my memory card…and that, yes, today’s lunch will probably make an appearance on the blog.

{recipe}

It’s funny how much these gals applaud the food I fix for them every week. I think it’s probably because someone else has actually done the cooking and they’ve gotten to take off their care-giver cap for a few hours. I’m guessing that the food tastes better to them then it really is! Whatever the reason, watching my friends relax and enjoy this time is one of the highlights of my week.

I stand up and start to collect the plates, “reminding” everyone to get back to work. Break’s over! As I climb the basement stairs that lead to my kitchen, I leave laughter and chatter behind me. Lunch is over, and we have a few more hours of scrapbooking before we have to head off to errands or to work or to collect children from school. These are good hours.

Hours spent on us and a craft that we enjoy. Hours spent with women we’ve grown to trust – at least enough to promise each other that what happens at scrapbooking, stays at scrapbooking! Hours spent making sure that our stories –the stories that make us who we are - will be passed down and told for years , for generations to come. Yes, these are good hours.

Back at my table, I sit quietly, choosing photos and planning layouts. A silence settles over the room, as each of us turns our concentration to the project before us. It’s a comfortable silence. It’s in this moment when I discover, quite by accident, how beautiful a subtly patterned sheet of paper looks behind some of my instagram shots. I cut...arrange...tape….and a walk I took this past spring comes back to life.

As I lift my eyes and watch the other five pairs of hands doing as I have done, I’m struck by the significance of this gathering. Called to these workshop tables to create memory books, we have been given so much more. We’ve been given warmth and nourishment, friendship and purpose. We are not only preserving memories, we are making memories. Together.

No Small Thing

Christmas came early in our family this year.
In the form of a brown box with a treasure inside....a long awaited, long desired treasure.
My daughter's been nice this year...and Santa's been blessed.
So he and Mrs. Claus are spreading the joy...
{my son's been nice too...and he hasn't been forgotten...but that's a different story}

Thing is, Mr. and Mrs. Claus needed help yesterday to make this gift thing happen.
UPS needed a signature {there was, after all, treasure in the box!} and we were all stuck at work.

Good thing I have a Heidi in my life.
She's a pretty blonde elf. With a heart of gold.
She's my friend.
And when the call went out for help, she dropped what she was doing, went to my house and waited for the delivery.
And this is no small thing.
Oh, maybe technically, it was just a "little" favor. Maybe.
Thing is, having a friend, who has your back.....
Having a friend who sweats the big and small stuff right along side of you...
Having a friend who gets how much this brown box means to your daughter...
Having this kind of friend
is
never
a
small
thing.

So, when I texted my daughter, and told her not to worry, that Heidi was headed to the house to rescue her treasure...she knew it would be safe. And we were both reminded that the treasure in the box was nothing
compared to the treasure of real friendship.

Thanks, friend.



Today we're linking up
at Corrine's place!

Our word for tomorrow (11/16/12) is

SOUND.

Join me for Six Word Fridays.

Link up here!

Stormy

The city skyline appeared

in my rear view mirror

illuminated

standing firm

storm clouds parting

giving way to a few minutes of late afternoon

sun

and blue skies.

There it was...

the calm after the storm...

in plain view.

in my rear view.

When the winds are blowing us, pulling/pushing us in

many directions at once...

When the barometric pressure closes in and robs

us of all energy...

When the elements beat down, stinging us, blinding us

and scarring us...

When the floods of sorrow, fear, loss, loneliness or

anger threaten to drown us...

we forget

we struggle to remember

we fight to believe

in the return of that clear blue.

My today was stormy.

Not the outdoor-hurricane-thunder and lightening stormy.

But the inside-my-head-and-heart kind of stormy.

And somehow

seeing that clear light break over the city

reminded me

that if clear skies can find their way back after Sandy's wrath,

then light

will surely find its way back

to me as well.

The word for Six Word Friday (11/02/12) is

QUESTION.

{what Questions are you asking? being asked? Do you question your choice - second guess yourself? The question is....}

Link up here!

Lingering

Letting go season is here.
The rains fall, the air has changed and the winds bluster.
Yet, as this tree shed her color,
one lone leaf
held
on.
Caught between what was and what will be.

Catching my eye, catching the late afternoon sun, I'm dazzled. I'm dismayed.
Tenacious? Stubborn?
Loyal? Enabling?
Persevering? Stuck?

How easy it seems to be
to hold on too long or
to let go too soon.
Most of the time it's just plain hard to know what's just right.

Life is salted by letting go seasons.
Beautiful, unsettling, inspiring and confusing letting go seasons.

Piece by Piece

I'm busy.
Like an elf before Christmas.
Planning meals, cutting up lots of pieces of paper...thinking about seating arrangements.
I might even be wrapping treats.

This weekend friends are coming with bits and pieces.
Bits of paper. Pieces of themselves.
They have stories to tell.
Important stories.

And it's my honor to welcome them.
To nourish them.
To give them some hours away from the to-dos and the families they nourish.
It's their turn
       to sit with friends
       to share laughter, tales, tears...
       and to
       create.

It's workshop time.
And piece by piece we will preserve the simple moments
        that paint our bigger picture.

Please join me on Friday, 10/19 for Six Word Fridays. We're linking up right here on my blog and this week's prompt is INSTANT. {click on the tab at the top for details!}

Perhaps...

I took several hundred photographs on Sunday...of several places I've been longing to photograph.
And I've enjoyed them.
But this image is, by far, my favorite.
I love the old brick, the rusty wrought iron, the blur of the fence and the fiery fall tree in the background.
There are even a few spider webs {cob webs?} thrown in for free...and a twist tie that must have been used to hang something ...

In the colors I see autumn ~ always and forever my favorite season. The wrought iron carries me back to Savannah and time with my daughter...and back to the windows and palace gates of Paris. The old brick takes me as far back as childhood at my grandparents...and back to my favorite of all our many different homes. I see old, and weathered...two things that I'd always choose over new and polished. And I see history, events...hundreds and thousands of different things that have gone in this spot.

When you step back from this shot, you're standing in front of Harvard University. The Charles River is behind you and the picturesque bell towers stand out against the sky above you. My husband's college days were spent behind these gates...our first dates, first kiss...

In the details of this image, I can easily get carried away...simple things that evoke powerful memories which, when woven together, become the tapestry that is my bigger picture. My life.

Yet, for me, the power of this image lies not in these things.
It lies not in what I like or feel connected to when I study it.
It lies, most simply, in the taking of it.
In being where I wanted to be in that moment.
In doing what I wanted to be doing in that moment.

Perhaps, for me this week, the simple moment is the bigger picture.




Join the conversation at Jade's this week.

AND

Please join me tomorrow, 10/12 for Six Word Fridays. We're linking up right here on my blog and this week's prompt is LIGHT. {click on the tab at the top for details!}