wings, fields, bones

Today is the last day of January and the snow is pouring down again. I've had a fairly productive day, one that allows me to relax and let grace sink in this evening, in the company of family.

Waiting de-motivates me. All my effort concentrates on endurance. Do the next thing. And the next, and then the next. So, I haven't had anything worthwhile to write, and I absolutely don't want this blog to be mere catharsis.

Events have transpired: I got to paint my in-laws' kitchen finally! My sister visited and together we met up with dear old friends. Brett's work has been suspended until the company gets a bid, which means we have gotten to spend much time together and pay bills out of our savings for a little while. In the past five months we were denied by five lenders and the sixth approved us so we were able to make an offer on a house this last week, just when I was about to start apartment-hunting. A gift we are making led us to explore several local antique shops which are tantalizingly quaint, and to our happy amazement we have acquired an authentic ship's helm.

I think a snowy field is one of the most restful, potent sights in the world - not barren at all. With all due respect to poet Langston Hughes, I offer this modified sentiment as an expression of what it looks like to give our dreams over to the Author of life.

surrender dreams
for when dreams end
life is a broken-winged bird
that God will mend

relinquish dreams
for if dreams fail
life is a barren field
Spring shall unveil

The truth is, I need God to crush my dreams. I know this might sound harsh. But if I build my house upon the sand it will be washed away. This capacity to dream such vivid dreams is surely meant for more than my benefit alone. I may not want refinement, but I need it.

Make me to hear joy and gladness, let the bones which Thou hast broken rejoice. Psalm 51:8

three french hens?

Three meddlesome turkeys amble through the property we are taking a look at. Oggling ensued.

the puppy

Norah, on hands and knees: "Arf arf arf!"
Beat.
"I being a puppy, mommy!"
Beat.
"I have a treat?"
Mommy: "Okay, Norah-puppy. Sit."
Norah sits on her bottom with her hands clasp in her lap.
"Shake." (Mommy extends her hand.)
Norah dangles one hand in the air and shakes it back and forth, ignoring Mommy's hand.
"Hmm," says Mommy, "Wag your tail."
Norah, on all fours again, extends one leg behind her and it hovers in the air, wagging haphazardly.

Norah-puppy happily snarfs her well-deserved treat.

wandering barques

our tree in 2008, 2009, and 2010

He had come to his desire by going through everything that was opposed to it.

-Hannah Coulter

Three short years ago I married the boy who had mysteriously become my best friend. Words cannot express my gratefulness for this man who completes me. Marriage is the sweetest, most fulfilling challenge I've ever faced, and I long to build and share the rewards as much as possible.
At the break of 2011, I try to frame its unfolding within the Grander Scheme. I have more reason to be content than I ever have before - my desires are being fulfilled! Still there are daily opportunities to "consider it all joy."
Recovering from Christmas & NewYear celebrations has mingled with Brett's being out of work for a fortnight and observing our 3rd anniversary. As well as pursuit of a place to call and make our own. So a little ache follows me, an ache for beauty, an ache for my place, an ache for brokenness, an ache for wholeness, an ache for all the things I have and all the things I lack, an ache for abiding, and an ache for arriving.
Francie took her courage into her two hands and said, "Those stories are the truth."

-A Tree Grows in Brooklyn