Thursday, December 23, 2010
I search for signs of deeper reality in every moment... it's who I've always been. Subtle happenings...signs that explode with "miracle" and fill my soul with possibility. Sometimes they take me by surprise, and sometimes I know they're coming before they actually do. This day I was secretly led into such a moment. As Steve and I grabbed the clippers and began to snip away we discovered among the bulging clusters of berries, one cluster shaped into a perfect heart. It took my breath...the splendor of such divine reality was layered with purpose. Just a coincidence of nature? Well, if that's how one chooses to look at it, then that's all it is. But for one seeking to be kissed by a world that carries way more reality than this one...it's a bright sign, a beacon. I came home and looked back at the name "holly" in my book of names and gasped as I read these words written underneath the name meaning..."and the peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds through Christ"! My grandmother was a dreamer...her dream world used to frighten us a bit when we were little, but I have since discovered divine purpose to these night parables. I watched that realm emerge into her day during the last few years of her life...her mind no longer guarding it, or reasoning it away. I cherish those moments with her as the veil over her spirit grew thin. I celebrate all she was meant to be, and all that is now perfected in her journey... may the depth of it manifest in generations to come.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Attempting to break an old habit today... for years I've written my deepest thoughts on pieces of scrap paper. Moments tucked away here and there in purses, folded and used as bookmarks, and scattered in countless drawers and notebooks. I have always had an addiction to journals... I can't seem to stay away from the journal aisle of any store actually. I search and search until I find the perfect one rich in texture, then smell its potential, and fan its blank pages as if to fan into flame words already written there. It's like pausing to sense your journey before you live it, or your thoughts before you think them. Still... I get totally inspired, then grab a stack of scrap paper and start scribbling my thoughts. It's "madness", and the only awareness I can make of it is that I'm afraid I'll stain the pages with imperfection... setting it aside for "just the right expression". Today, gibberish or not, I'm blowing the dust from this "preserved" stack of books, and fanning into flame all that's written there!