Lilley of the field

Sometimes I tell Aaron I wish I was an animal or bug instead of a human because then I wouldn't have to plan complex things, resolve conflict, or worry about a schedule. Depending on the animal, I could do things like hop from tree to tree, swim in cool waters all day long, lounge around in the shade, or soar through the clouds. (side note: I realize animals actually do resolve conflict and plan complex things it just seems a bit different than humans...). The one time I expressed this desire to Aaron, I think I used the example animal of a cow simply because we were driving by a field of cows. He informed me this is not that normal- most people do not desire to be cows- so I have made a habit of not generally bringing this thought up in conversation. I was in a bit of a funk today. A silly funk. One of those no-good-reason funks. I was standing under the shade of our dogwood tree watching our dogs play and looked up to find this hidden little creature keeping me company. Matthew

We're at the breakfast table. He's reading articles and answering emails. We're talking about the church at large and at small. It's encouraging, discouraging, simple, complex, refreshing, and frustrating all at the same time somehow. He leaves for work and I take my Bible and journal out to the back yard to sit in the sunshine that has finally decided to make it's way back down to planet earth. I've been reading too many articles online probably. Reading too many blogs. Listening to too many other people. It's time for just me and the Word. I randomly flip open to Ezekiel and decide that this is as good a place as any to read (a great way to systematically read your Bible right? just kidding. no one says you always have to be systematic) Anyhow, I read chapter after chapter of gloom and destruction for the nations of Israel because of their idolatry, their rebellion, and their sin. It's not quite the uplifter I was looking for this morning. Then I m

This is a quote from a book on tape (well CD, but I guess I still want to call it "book on tape") that Aaron and I just finished on our long car trip. When I picked it out from the library I had no idea that it was going to be a book about healing, miracles, slavery, segregation, kidnapping, Jesus, faith, and humility. I loved it way more than I thought I would. So much so that I rewinded to listen to one quote over and over so I could write it down. I would highly recommend this book. “There was a blessed time when miracles were something not far outside the norm, exceptions to the rules, holy, unexpected. Before Pilotville, he had expected to find persimmons when he asked for them and resurrected blackbirds and believers voices folded together as if one. Before Pilotville he had known no miracles just the constant ways God showed his love which of course were not miracles at all for they were with him everyday- invisible because they were so much i

We enter The Christmas Shoppe in Smithfield, VA, my mother-in-"love" and I. I am looking around amazed at how a Christmas store can stay in business year round. And then I realize, it's people like me with an infinite and astonishing love for Christmas. I take my time looking at all the nativity scenes. Some are absolutely gorgeous and yet when I look at the price tag, I wonder how is it possible to pay $140 for a statue of baby Jesus, Mother Mary, and Joseph to set out once a year. Then I see the kind of nativity scene I've been hunting for. It's a small, crude carving of the nativity scene with driftwood for $10 (really $7 with the 30% off sale). While I'm certain Aaron could make it, I decide to buy it as a pattern and inspiration for future carvings. I don't think much of it at the time. I walk around the town with the nativity scene neatly wrapped and placed in a brown bag. On our drive home, Aaron and I reminisce and talk and laugh. During our