“It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different - deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia

six quick facts

1.  This is the face of a child who is cutting  four molars and woke up seven times last night.

2.  On a scale of 1 to 10, ten being a morning person and one being the person you would want to avoid most mornings, I hover around two. 

3. This week, my kids have been up each morning before six.  We have embraced the sudden change by blowing bubbles in our pjs, having our devotions on the deck and eating french toast outside (which my sweet five-year-old referred to as "disgusting bread soaked in disgusting eggs covered with disgusting syrup" but then proceeded to lick his plate clean...he operates around a 1.5 in the mornings).  By 900am they are ready for lunch and a nap.

4.  I am pretty sure Ben goes pantless 85% of the day.

5.  I love the effects of shooting directly into the sunrise.

 

6.  This picture was taken right before Ben fell down the stairs.  Several tears later, we relocated our bubble station.

Have a good weekend!

witness

There is so much that I want to share about the last few months but I just can't seem to start a sentence.

 
 
 

Maya once told me, "These are times when what's being asked of us is to simply be witnesses. To be able to hold in the grandeur and beauty, the incredible power and poignancy of these moments. That is a huge gift, even when it seems like a private moment. Because there's something very nourishing about it, something that feeds you in such a way that it does radiate outward to others. I think there's a lot of healing there, in these very subtle undercurrents."

 


 

Amy captures the essence of these moments in her beautiful poem, Rare Alignment.

Rare Alignment

Sometimes we are graced with a rare alignment
the tipping of an axis point, subtle
secondary evidence of efficiency,
a spectacle seen once and only once
in our brief lifetime.
Suddenly, a curve rather than a straight line,
cairns appearing then disappearing again.
A suspension of one reality, while slowly
our bones and muscles shift into new spaces.
Expect a new sequence of angles, trust
this rearranging of your capacity for love.

 

Oh, how there absolutely has been rearranging of my capacity for love.  Coming to a better understanding of the Spirit of the Living God at work in my everyday life has utterly and completely rearranged my capacity for love.  That is what I have witnessed. That is what I wanted to share with you.

**SO, from here on out, I am just going to stick with taking pictures and link to all of my amazingly talented writer friends and let them do all of the talking!

And we're live in 3, 2, 1...

We are back!  Although it has been slow here on the Internets, I assure you it has not been slow at the homestead.  Not having a pc for a few months was both limiting and freeing all at the same time.  Either way, I am happy to be snapping pictures again (since I now have somewhere to store the 12GB of photos that has been sitting on my memory cards for two months) which means I will be boring you to tears with photos.  But I am sure you really don't mind...

in like a lion

The past two weeks dun' wore us out.

(how's that for southern lingo?)
we are on the mend and are hoping march gives us some room to breathe.

January was a trying month and February was a good mixture just ended a little rough.
right now as I type, this is what I see:

"it is a flower for you, momma."

and that is how i get through the day...

faster and faster it goes...



life in the fast lane



Camera, pen and paper have been my modes of journaling in this season.
I realized the other day that since I don't print and mail pictures, don't update facebook, and hardly update this blog there might be a few folks out there feeling a little disconnected.
My sincerest apologies.
I will try harder.
To smooth things over I am tempted to say there isn't much going on.
But that would be a lie. 
There is much going on.  My boys are growing up and so are their parents.  It is all good.  I just wish things would slow down for a minute or two so my head and heart had a chance to catch-up.
Which is probably how Ben feels about his big brother...

chasing his brother

Peace out, January...can't say that I will miss you

"For we walk by faith, not by sight. " 2 Corinthians 5:7

(p.s. the blur is my little man learning to ride his bike.)

For me, finding a photo on my card that doesn't need to be edited (such as the one above) it like winning the lottery.
I know. Little things excite me.  I understand that.
I also understand that I am way too hard on myself, can be controlling  particular about certain things, blah blah blah....

After the last two weeks, what I mostly understand is that most of life can't be edited....

OK, seriously...I am typing this with my laptop on my lap, legs resting on the coffee table.  Ben is on his belly on my legs continually kicking that back of the laptop screen...well, now he is turned around sort of tight rope walking on my shins...oh now he is facing me resting his chin on the top of the screen, a trail of drool running down the middle of the screen onto the keyboard...and now he has fallen...and I was going to draw this amazing parallel between a verse in Isaiah 46 or 49 (or was it 43?) because it really speaks to what we have been going through...but now I have lost my train of thought and my profound insight for the evening and leave you with "I am happy I can't edit everything because if I could, my keyboard would not be covered in drool by a nineteen month oldscreaming peek-a-boo and that would make me sad  the end good night."

morning at the lake

it feels good to be taking pictures again...