You know those moments when you remember you are not God?  I had one.  This morning in the shower I think I was holding a bit of court in my head and suddenly I remembered I'm not God. And it felt oh so good, because honestly, there's a lot of crap out there I think I'd need to deal with.  So happy I don't have to.  I got out and got ready for my day feeling quite a bit lighter.  Maybe "lighter" isn't the right word, there was still a lot weighing on me.  A lot has been weighing on me.  And they are good things, but they are heavy.

I found myself with extra time this morning; I poured my coffee, buttered my toast and opened up Streams in the Desert for November 27th.  The message?  Nothing is impossible.  We could pile on every detail and block we see and it wouldn't outweigh His ability.  And with that, I took a deep breath and decided to not give up and to not let go.

Glad I am not God.  Glad He is.

Craving violin strings on my finger tips.  That sharp straight pain that just melts into music.  Usually in the quiet of the morning I think of it most.... it's also when I definitely can't pull it out unless just to hold it, slide my fingers from position to position in my unsteady and unsure way. 

Someday, at 7am, I will pull it out and play away.... though that day is probably a VERY long way away.  ;) 

Is that a viola?  Might be. 

Morning Tuesday.  

Apparently today, getting dressed is just not a priority.  Instead it's coffee, laundry, breakfast, back in the warm bed.  This is nice.  But I see my time to get ready has already sprung to a minimum and yet... I just keep sipping coffee.

My current first-world problem is this: when to go to the gym?  If I go when I first get home, I'm starving and don't get nearly as good of a workout.  If I eat dinner, wait a bit and go, I end up wired and not falling asleep until some unHoly hour.  Last night it was somewhere in the middle (kind of a weak work out, plus apparently got my blood going enough to keep me awake for hours). And still too late.... I'm realizing as I sit in bed... still....sipping my coffee.  Under 30 minutes until I really should leave. 

Mmmm.  Coffee.

The view through Kenmore this morning. Tell me again why we have a cement factory taking up all our waterfront? :(

I crashed at Meg's last night and I was greeted by some remarkably lovely views this morning as I walked to Laudro and then to the bus.

morningness. :)

In the beginning, He was there... and He's there still. He's handing you a beginning, waiting at your end.

So, meet Him there, and take all He has to give. Let your will melt away. And as you feel weak as a child, let your hope rise like a child's, for its only children who get carried. And it's only the hopeful who know how sweet is a joy long looked for, and how real a dream long fought for can become, years before it's real enough for others to see.

Good morning, hope in God.

I think I need a sunrise. 

Always, I see the setting sun. 

Always, I relish the dusk. 

But I need a little reminder.

I need to see a new dawn,

I need to see colors that whisper, "awake" 

And promise, promises are on the way. 

Only, wait. 

I slept a LOT last night (and I say 'night' loosely). And somewhere in the midst of the hours, I had a thought. You know the verse in Song of Solomon where the Beloved says, "I slept, but my heart was awake"? I find that to be one of the truest statements lately. I feel my heart never sleeps as of late, and on occassion when the rest of me is just drifting between sleep and awake, my heart whispers little secrets to me. 

Last night, my heart must have been long-pondering the skies, for all the sudden, I was aware of it pouring out the lists of the promises God has made with people, through the skies. He promised Noah, then gave him the rainbow as a reminder. He told Abraham to look up at the night sky, and promised him more than the stars. Jacob, he wrestled under the moon, and gave him a dream of a staircase to the heavens. (maybe that one's a stretch, but I don't think it's too big to claim... my heart certainly didn't last night.) 

My heart was thinking of the Lord- the promise of the coming sun, the coming morn.

David thought often of it too- he'd awaken the dawn with his praises. He'd liken the Lord to the rising sun. He saw the faithfulness of the Lord in the morning moments. 

It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praises to your name, O Most High; to declare your steadfast love in the morning, and your faithfulness by night. 

Psalm 92: 1-2

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants! Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days.

Psalm 90:12-14

I'm waiting on the dawn. I'm waiting on His promises. And tonight, I'm wrecked by His love, His faithfulness, His grace and forgiveness, the nearness of Him while I wait through the night and all its unknowing. 

My garden is me: wild, with borders.
My mom.

Perhaps that is part of why us girls feel so at home in our yard, it's an expression of our mother. And perhaps, a bit of an expression of us too. Whatever it is, I love few things more than spending a morning on the porch swing, coffee in hand, just being there. I might have a book, a journal, or absolutely nothing. It's a lovely place. It's a wild place with borders. It's a safe place. It's an enchanting place. It's a place that's always changing, moving, growing, nurturing, loving, and receiving. It is where I am about to go sit right now, with a blanket and a hot cup of coffee.

Thank you mom for how you've poured you into your garden. I am grateful the Lord gave it to you, and for the revelation He's given you about it. And I'm grateful that He created you to be such a nurturing and loving woman, one who loves to create and transform, one who turns the things she touches into something beautiful. And also one who loves to have fun in the process. One who is wild, with borders. I'm grateful you've trained us girls to be the same.

Love you. And love mornings like this, in your garden.

It is beautiful this morning, I woke up before the others, showered and headed out to the porch to read in the morning sunshine. T-shirt and shorts (and yes Kris- of course swimsuit!) Its warm and incredible, with a view of rolling green hills.

Funny thing is, I miss home more than any time yet this week-- and I am probably happier then any other moment thus far. There is something about sitting in the morning sunshine alone that undoes me. I have a suspicion that something in my heart will always long for home when I sit outside in the peaceful morning.

My home in one of the most beautiful places to be in the summer. Surrounded by blooming flowers and green shrubs, a running brook and quiet little cozy nooks every where. It sounds like a natural eden, but it has taken a lot of labor. My mom hands show it. :) I love the "Secret Garden" my mom has created with her love and hard work. And I love to be no place more then sitting on the porch swing in the morning while the neighborhood is still quiet. The kids just waking up and not yet out and about making mayhem, playing indians and hoola-hoop, shooting hoops and riding bikes. The birds are chirping and my heart is listening to every melody the morning plays me. I'm wrapped in a soft blanket and holding a cup of coffee.

That is why, even while I sit here so contently, warm and alive and in love (with Jesus, calm down)...My heart misses home a bit. And my mind is drawn to my mom, and the beauty and feeling of 'home' she creates.

(PS, happy 37th anniversary [yesterday] mom and dad!)