i thank you god for most this amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any -- lifted from the no
of nothing -- human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
e.e.cummings, American poet, 1894-1962
I don't really know much of the biography or beliefs of e.e.cummings (a study for another day), but I love his style. His lack of punctuation, unconventional sentence structure, and oddly placed modifiers require me to stop and THINK about what he's saying. I don't pretend to understand all that he's saying here, but I do think he lyrically expresses the wonder and awe of God's immutable power and His general revelation of Himself.
"For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made ..." Rom. 1:20
Life, and a bowl (or cone) of ice cream
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Have you ever considered that all you need to know about an individual's approach to life can be determined by a half gallon of neopolitan ice cream?
Case in point ...
Last night, I went to the grocery store. I bought butter, a package of chocolate-covered marshmallow cookies, neopolitan ice cream, and a few other items. Before I'd pulled the car to a stop in the driveway, Bella and AJ were out the front door of the house, waiting for me. They knew I was bringing home dessert.
We were keeping the Preg boys, so I told all the kids to stay out of the kitchen until I called them in one-by-one. (Small kitchen, you know -- not nearly large enough for six kids all at once.) I let each child tell me what kind of ice cream they wanted -- and it occurs to me now that my kids chose ice cream that fits their outlook on life PERFECTLY!
Eli, the "safe" one who prefers things plain, simple and familiar, chose chocolate and vanilla. No strawberry.
Emma, the "luxurious" one who prefers to be pampered, chose (you guessed it) mostly chocolate.
AJ, the "quirky" one whose all about some creativity and uniqueness, didn't care what colors he had, so long as we topped it with some crushed-up, chocolate-covered marshmallow cookie.
And Bella, the "spirited" one who enthusiastically embraces life, communicated vivaciously that she wanted "some of all the colors."
I, the "somewhat-creative recovering perfectionist," indulged in a little of the colorful fare myself: strawberry inside the cone (to be enjoyed last), with chocolate and vanilla swirled together on top.
G-Love, the "resourceful" one who likes to do things in his own time, didn't partake along with the rest of us. Later, sitting peacefully in his big green chair, he enjoyed his particular selection: all the colors, easy on the chocolate, with maraschino cherries (scavenged from the fridge) on top.
So there you go -- life, and a bowl (or cone) of ice cream.
Case in point ...
Last night, I went to the grocery store. I bought butter, a package of chocolate-covered marshmallow cookies, neopolitan ice cream, and a few other items. Before I'd pulled the car to a stop in the driveway, Bella and AJ were out the front door of the house, waiting for me. They knew I was bringing home dessert.
We were keeping the Preg boys, so I told all the kids to stay out of the kitchen until I called them in one-by-one. (Small kitchen, you know -- not nearly large enough for six kids all at once.) I let each child tell me what kind of ice cream they wanted -- and it occurs to me now that my kids chose ice cream that fits their outlook on life PERFECTLY!
Eli, the "safe" one who prefers things plain, simple and familiar, chose chocolate and vanilla. No strawberry.
Emma, the "luxurious" one who prefers to be pampered, chose (you guessed it) mostly chocolate.
AJ, the "quirky" one whose all about some creativity and uniqueness, didn't care what colors he had, so long as we topped it with some crushed-up, chocolate-covered marshmallow cookie.
And Bella, the "spirited" one who enthusiastically embraces life, communicated vivaciously that she wanted "some of all the colors."
I, the "somewhat-creative recovering perfectionist," indulged in a little of the colorful fare myself: strawberry inside the cone (to be enjoyed last), with chocolate and vanilla swirled together on top.
G-Love, the "resourceful" one who likes to do things in his own time, didn't partake along with the rest of us. Later, sitting peacefully in his big green chair, he enjoyed his particular selection: all the colors, easy on the chocolate, with maraschino cherries (scavenged from the fridge) on top.
So there you go -- life, and a bowl (or cone) of ice cream.
Happy Birthday, G-Love
So if you're reading this blog, you know me well enough to know that I met this guy
when he was just 15. I bet you thought it was his vast intellect, quick wit and all-around "G"odliness that attracted me to him. Nope. Curly black hair, unusual laugh, charm. (He was quite the flirt!)
Home life was tough for me at that time, and it wasn't long before I grew to love his reaction to my grandmother. Her actions that I met with anger and bitterness, he met with gentleness and patience. Quite remarkable, actually.
That was almost 27 years ago. Today, the G turns 42. And I see beyond the curly black hair (that's a good thing, huh?) and unusual laugh (though I still love it). He's wise and hilarious and intelligent and affectionate. He's real about his struggle, and his need for Christ. A Godly man who gives Godly counsel. He's a visionary who loves the gospel, and he longs to see God's Church grow and His Kingdom come. He parents our children with wisdom and tenderness.
God (in His perfect wisdom, grace and love) knew there was noone better suited to me.
I hope it's the perfect sort of day for you, my Love. I'm celebrating the fact that you were born.
when he was just 15. I bet you thought it was his vast intellect, quick wit and all-around "G"odliness that attracted me to him. Nope. Curly black hair, unusual laugh, charm. (He was quite the flirt!)
Home life was tough for me at that time, and it wasn't long before I grew to love his reaction to my grandmother. Her actions that I met with anger and bitterness, he met with gentleness and patience. Quite remarkable, actually.
That was almost 27 years ago. Today, the G turns 42. And I see beyond the curly black hair (that's a good thing, huh?) and unusual laugh (though I still love it). He's wise and hilarious and intelligent and affectionate. He's real about his struggle, and his need for Christ. A Godly man who gives Godly counsel. He's a visionary who loves the gospel, and he longs to see God's Church grow and His Kingdom come. He parents our children with wisdom and tenderness.
God (in His perfect wisdom, grace and love) knew there was noone better suited to me.
I hope it's the perfect sort of day for you, my Love. I'm celebrating the fact that you were born.
Random activity
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Ah. Finally some respite from the crazy busy life of the last two months. G-love is on the mend, newsletter went to press, grades are completed, 500 are served. There's still plenty to do (when do I not face deadlines?), but there is momentary respite, for which I'm glad.
So last night, after the feeding of the 500 (while we were skipping the Moody fireworks for the first time EVER), I started reading eclipse, the third in the Twilight vampire series. It's a 600-page book. I read 80 pages last night, so at this rate, it'll take me about a week to complete it. (Curse slow reading.)
Of course, the craziness will begin again. There's a little girl's birthday party to plan (makeovers with Bella, anyone?), a teenager's birthday to plan (airsoft and seafood for Eli, who's turning 13), and school prep to be done.
And I have, oh, about 3 weeks to complete the summer projects I planned, but have yet to begin. Among them:
* sorting and purging 20 years of photographs that are in boxes in my garage (I think I need my sister-in-law for that activity),
* painting and distressing the bench in my hallway,
* scrapbooking,
* painting the bedroom (still not done, though I do have a lovely updated bathroom, thanks to the G).
Speaking of bedrooms, Bella has outgrown her bed, so I've promised her a larger bed for her birthday. (I mean, come on, she will be six. She can't stay in a toddler bed forever.) So somehow we have to figure out how to put two twin beds and all the stuff of two teenage girls (one who's really a teen and another who thinks she is) into a space barely large enough for one. Suggestions?
And I'm longing for some hangin' out with the girls time. Takers?.
But, alas, I choose first the obsession (uh, twilight series) and the updating of the ole blogaroni (see link for Anna Bedsole's blog, newly discovered this morning.)
Oh, and while you're on the blog circuit, the hubs updated our Ireland blog yesterday; check it out at www.morganjourney.blogspot.com. I'm most anxious to begin telling the story of Ireland, sharing the vision for the gospel there, and seeing God make things happen.
So last night, after the feeding of the 500 (while we were skipping the Moody fireworks for the first time EVER), I started reading eclipse, the third in the Twilight vampire series. It's a 600-page book. I read 80 pages last night, so at this rate, it'll take me about a week to complete it. (Curse slow reading.)
Of course, the craziness will begin again. There's a little girl's birthday party to plan (makeovers with Bella, anyone?), a teenager's birthday to plan (airsoft and seafood for Eli, who's turning 13), and school prep to be done.
And I have, oh, about 3 weeks to complete the summer projects I planned, but have yet to begin. Among them:
* sorting and purging 20 years of photographs that are in boxes in my garage (I think I need my sister-in-law for that activity),
* painting and distressing the bench in my hallway,
* scrapbooking,
* painting the bedroom (still not done, though I do have a lovely updated bathroom, thanks to the G).
Speaking of bedrooms, Bella has outgrown her bed, so I've promised her a larger bed for her birthday. (I mean, come on, she will be six. She can't stay in a toddler bed forever.) So somehow we have to figure out how to put two twin beds and all the stuff of two teenage girls (one who's really a teen and another who thinks she is) into a space barely large enough for one. Suggestions?
And I'm longing for some hangin' out with the girls time. Takers?.
But, alas, I choose first the obsession (uh, twilight series) and the updating of the ole blogaroni (see link for Anna Bedsole's blog, newly discovered this morning.)
Oh, and while you're on the blog circuit, the hubs updated our Ireland blog yesterday; check it out at www.morganjourney.blogspot.com. I'm most anxious to begin telling the story of Ireland, sharing the vision for the gospel there, and seeing God make things happen.
Improvements coming
Monday, July 14, 2008
I've decided I absolutely MUST become more proficient with blog technology. I've been playing around with the blogger dashboard (oh, for all of about 10 minutes), and just thought I'd let you know improvements to the old blogaroni are in the works. I'll be adding links to sites that interest me, a list of books you absolutely MUST read (and a list for your wee ones, too), as well as links to all the blogs of my friendlies out there. Of course, I'll be doing this in my oodles of spare time (hear sarcasm), so don't expect to see it, like, today or anything. Good things come to those who wait.
Overhaul
Saturday, July 12, 2008
World Harvest has given me an assignment. I’m to write a paragraph describing what God is doing in my life, how he’s changing me – how he’s “overhauling” me, to be precise. I’m finding this assignment impossible. How in the world do you tell someone in one paragraph what God has done for you? What he’s still doing for you?
I’ve begun the assignment about 20 times. (OK, a bit of an exaggeration, but only a bit.) I think the problem is that I can’t decide which approach to take. It’s like a 747 is circling through the sky and can’t decide where to land, even though there are a dozen or so available runways below.
So instead of continuing to try to organize all my thoughts before I write, I’ve decided to just write – off the top of my head – and hope inspiration will come. (OK H.S., that’s your cue.)
Should I write about the distant past and its contrast to the present? (It’s a good story, I think – not because of me, but because of the faithfulness of God.) Or maybe I could explain the two scriptures that I think summarize my life (Jeremiah 2:13 and 1 Cor. 1: 26-31). Perhaps I should write about the threads God is weaving through my life right now (biblical truths that cut to the heart of my struggles).
Struggles. Maybe, as I’m sitting here, I’m recognizing that the only way to talk about how He’s changing me is to be real about how I struggle.
I struggle with self-absorption -- most notably, a need for approval and validation. All too often, I live believing my value is based on my performance: how well I educate my children, how much ministry I can pull off, whether or not people enjoy my company. I’m not only unbroken over my own sin, but frequently blind to it altogether. I struggle with envy, and anger, and fear. I struggle with all those things. And more.
God’s “overhaul” of me hasn’t been to miraculously remove the struggle, but to teach me, in the midst of it, to run to Him. To trust in the righteousness of Christ given over to me. To recognize these struggles as the present value of the blood of Christ for me.
World Harvest Staffer Meredith Elder, my friend and mentor, once told me that long permanent change is made up of many millions of little beliefs and repentances. God is overhauling me: by His grace, he’s teaching me to believe and repent. In the process, by way of the millions of little beliefs and repentances, I believe He’ll make me more like Jesus. That’s His job, not mine.
"They said therefore to Him, "What shall we do, that we may work the works of God?" Jesus answered and said to them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent." John 6:28-29
I’ve begun the assignment about 20 times. (OK, a bit of an exaggeration, but only a bit.) I think the problem is that I can’t decide which approach to take. It’s like a 747 is circling through the sky and can’t decide where to land, even though there are a dozen or so available runways below.
So instead of continuing to try to organize all my thoughts before I write, I’ve decided to just write – off the top of my head – and hope inspiration will come. (OK H.S., that’s your cue.)
Should I write about the distant past and its contrast to the present? (It’s a good story, I think – not because of me, but because of the faithfulness of God.) Or maybe I could explain the two scriptures that I think summarize my life (Jeremiah 2:13 and 1 Cor. 1: 26-31). Perhaps I should write about the threads God is weaving through my life right now (biblical truths that cut to the heart of my struggles).
Struggles. Maybe, as I’m sitting here, I’m recognizing that the only way to talk about how He’s changing me is to be real about how I struggle.
I struggle with self-absorption -- most notably, a need for approval and validation. All too often, I live believing my value is based on my performance: how well I educate my children, how much ministry I can pull off, whether or not people enjoy my company. I’m not only unbroken over my own sin, but frequently blind to it altogether. I struggle with envy, and anger, and fear. I struggle with all those things. And more.
God’s “overhaul” of me hasn’t been to miraculously remove the struggle, but to teach me, in the midst of it, to run to Him. To trust in the righteousness of Christ given over to me. To recognize these struggles as the present value of the blood of Christ for me.
World Harvest Staffer Meredith Elder, my friend and mentor, once told me that long permanent change is made up of many millions of little beliefs and repentances. God is overhauling me: by His grace, he’s teaching me to believe and repent. In the process, by way of the millions of little beliefs and repentances, I believe He’ll make me more like Jesus. That’s His job, not mine.
"They said therefore to Him, "What shall we do, that we may work the works of God?" Jesus answered and said to them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent." John 6:28-29
A word or two
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Funny – for a writer, sometimes I’m a woman of very few words. There are encyclopedias worth of things I’m feeling, thinking, experiencing, but the words just don’t come.
This is one of those times.
So let me just say that the flesh is alive (though dying) and the enemy is devouring (yet defeated).
I am weary with my own lack of believing.
This is one of those times.
So let me just say that the flesh is alive (though dying) and the enemy is devouring (yet defeated).
I am weary with my own lack of believing.
Approved
Wednesday, June 04, 2008
On our first morning in Philadelphia, I wanted Steven to be able to sleep in, and the morning was a good opportunity to read some scripture and pray a bit. So I woke early (my new habit), went downstairs to our hotel lobby, bought a cup of Starbucks coffee, and found a relaxing place outside to sit for a while. The weather was mild, and the scenery (against the backdrop of the Delaware River) was peaceful. I relaxingly polished off about half my coffee and as much of the muffin, pondering all the while about the events to come. Then I picked up my Bible, hoping to find scripture that would offer encouragement for the days to come, and guidance in how to pray.
I had recently memorized a verse in Isaiah 30, and found my mind continually going to that place, so I decided to start at the beginnning of the chapter and read my way through it. What I didn't know is that Isaiah 30 is written as a message to the Israelites, who are attempting to flee to Egypt in the face of impending attack by the Assyrians.
Here are some key passages in my part of this story:
verses 1-2"'Ah, stubborn children,' declares the Lord, 'who carry out a plan, but not mine, and who make an alliance, but not of my Spirit, that they may add sin to sin; who set out to go down to Egypt, without asking for my direction, to take refuge in the protection of Pharaoh and to seek shelter in the shadow of Egypt!' ...
verses 8-11"And now, go, write it before them on a tablet and inscribe it in a book, that it may be for the time to come as a witness forever. For they are a rebellious people, lying chilren, children unwilling to hear the instruction of the Lord; who say to the seers, "Do not see," and to the prophets, "Do not prophesy to us what is right; speak to us smooth things, prophesy illusions, leave the way, turn aside from the path, let us hear no more about the Holy One of Israel. ...
verses 19b-21a"He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as he hears it, he answers you. And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way, walk in it ...
verses 30-33
"And the Lord will cause his majestic voice to be heard and the descending blow of his arm to be seen, in furious anger and a flame of devouring fire, with a cloudburst and storm and hailstones. The Assyrians will be terror-stricken at the voice of the Lord, when he strikes with his rod. And every stroke of the appointed staff that the Lord lays on them will be to the sound of tambourines and lyres. Battling with brandished arm, he will fight them. For a burning place has long been prepared; indeed, for the king it is made ready, its pyre made deep and wide, with fire and wood in abundance; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of sulfur, kindles it."
As I read these parts of the Israelites story, God used them in a powerful way to lead me in how to pray.
First (based on verses 1-2) ... that we wouldn't try to carry out a plan that wasn't his plan, and that we wouldn't try to make an alliance that wasn't his alliance. That we wouldn't set out to "go down to Egypt" (even if Egypt, for us, was Ireland) without seeking his direction.
Second (based on verses 8-11) ... that we would be willing to hear the instruction of the Lord, even if that meant a second rejection. By the grace of the Holy Spirit, I prayed that the "seers" (translation, assessors) would see what they needed to see in us, both strengths and weaknesses, and that we wouldn't go wanting them to "speak to us smooth things" or "prophesy illusion."
Third (based on verses 19b-21a) ... that we would "hear the word" of our Teacher: "This is the way, walk in it."
And finally, I thanked God for the promise, illustrated in verses 30-33, that he powerfully prepares the way.
Later, as Steven and I waited for Meredith Elder to collect us from the train stop, we had time to discuss and wonder at the way God met with me that morning.
Today, days later, we walked into a room and were issued an invitation to join World Harvest Mission. And we marvel at the full assurance he has given us as we've heard his word: "Go."
I had recently memorized a verse in Isaiah 30, and found my mind continually going to that place, so I decided to start at the beginnning of the chapter and read my way through it. What I didn't know is that Isaiah 30 is written as a message to the Israelites, who are attempting to flee to Egypt in the face of impending attack by the Assyrians.
Here are some key passages in my part of this story:
verses 1-2"'Ah, stubborn children,' declares the Lord, 'who carry out a plan, but not mine, and who make an alliance, but not of my Spirit, that they may add sin to sin; who set out to go down to Egypt, without asking for my direction, to take refuge in the protection of Pharaoh and to seek shelter in the shadow of Egypt!' ...
verses 8-11"And now, go, write it before them on a tablet and inscribe it in a book, that it may be for the time to come as a witness forever. For they are a rebellious people, lying chilren, children unwilling to hear the instruction of the Lord; who say to the seers, "Do not see," and to the prophets, "Do not prophesy to us what is right; speak to us smooth things, prophesy illusions, leave the way, turn aside from the path, let us hear no more about the Holy One of Israel. ...
verses 19b-21a"He will surely be gracious to you at the sound of your cry. As soon as he hears it, he answers you. And though the Lord give you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, yet your Teacher will not hide himself anymore, but your eyes shall see your Teacher. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, "This is the way, walk in it ...
verses 30-33
"And the Lord will cause his majestic voice to be heard and the descending blow of his arm to be seen, in furious anger and a flame of devouring fire, with a cloudburst and storm and hailstones. The Assyrians will be terror-stricken at the voice of the Lord, when he strikes with his rod. And every stroke of the appointed staff that the Lord lays on them will be to the sound of tambourines and lyres. Battling with brandished arm, he will fight them. For a burning place has long been prepared; indeed, for the king it is made ready, its pyre made deep and wide, with fire and wood in abundance; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of sulfur, kindles it."
As I read these parts of the Israelites story, God used them in a powerful way to lead me in how to pray.
First (based on verses 1-2) ... that we wouldn't try to carry out a plan that wasn't his plan, and that we wouldn't try to make an alliance that wasn't his alliance. That we wouldn't set out to "go down to Egypt" (even if Egypt, for us, was Ireland) without seeking his direction.
Second (based on verses 8-11) ... that we would be willing to hear the instruction of the Lord, even if that meant a second rejection. By the grace of the Holy Spirit, I prayed that the "seers" (translation, assessors) would see what they needed to see in us, both strengths and weaknesses, and that we wouldn't go wanting them to "speak to us smooth things" or "prophesy illusion."
Third (based on verses 19b-21a) ... that we would "hear the word" of our Teacher: "This is the way, walk in it."
And finally, I thanked God for the promise, illustrated in verses 30-33, that he powerfully prepares the way.
Later, as Steven and I waited for Meredith Elder to collect us from the train stop, we had time to discuss and wonder at the way God met with me that morning.
Today, days later, we walked into a room and were issued an invitation to join World Harvest Mission. And we marvel at the full assurance he has given us as we've heard his word: "Go."
Update
Monday, June 02, 2008
It's 5 p.m., and we don't have to leave the World Harvest offices to go to dinner for another hour, so I thought I tried to give a brief update on the blog.
We arrived late saturday, after an hour delay at the airport due to weather in the Philly area. Found our lovely, price-lined, four-star hotel easily, then walked to the nearby historic district for a late dinner. Found a little corner restaurant where we ate Italian food al frescoe.
Yesterday, we rode the loop bus through town to the Museum of Art. Can you say "Impressive"? Seriously, my heart was beating wildly as we walked into one of the HUNDREDS of galleries, and saw multiple Renoirs! Many, many, many Van Goghs (sunflowers), Cezannes (amazing), Degas (dancers), Monets, Manets, Picassos (three musicians), Chagalls, Rubens, Mondrians, Legers, Gaugains, Munchs -- you get the, uh, picture! I LOVED it! We were exhausted, but had to catch our bus back to the hotel, where we collected our luggage and then caught the train to meet our World Harvest contact.
Last night, we met many of the WHM staff and all of the candidates. It was a good dinner, and each candidate/candidate couple got to share their story.
Today, we have had multiple meetings and group/team building exercises; they've been fun.
Tonight, dinner at a staff member's house.
Please pray on our behalf tomorrow -- we'll be in interviews all day long.
Must go now -- I'm on a borrowed computer.
Toddles, then, til later,
Laura
We arrived late saturday, after an hour delay at the airport due to weather in the Philly area. Found our lovely, price-lined, four-star hotel easily, then walked to the nearby historic district for a late dinner. Found a little corner restaurant where we ate Italian food al frescoe.
Yesterday, we rode the loop bus through town to the Museum of Art. Can you say "Impressive"? Seriously, my heart was beating wildly as we walked into one of the HUNDREDS of galleries, and saw multiple Renoirs! Many, many, many Van Goghs (sunflowers), Cezannes (amazing), Degas (dancers), Monets, Manets, Picassos (three musicians), Chagalls, Rubens, Mondrians, Legers, Gaugains, Munchs -- you get the, uh, picture! I LOVED it! We were exhausted, but had to catch our bus back to the hotel, where we collected our luggage and then caught the train to meet our World Harvest contact.
Last night, we met many of the WHM staff and all of the candidates. It was a good dinner, and each candidate/candidate couple got to share their story.
Today, we have had multiple meetings and group/team building exercises; they've been fun.
Tonight, dinner at a staff member's house.
Please pray on our behalf tomorrow -- we'll be in interviews all day long.
Must go now -- I'm on a borrowed computer.
Toddles, then, til later,
Laura
Morgan Journey
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Today we leave for Philadelphia and World Harvest Assessment and Orientation (A&O). Thanks for praying for us! And you can check out our Morgan Journey blog (www.Morganjourney.blogspot.com) for updates.
"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity, to bring you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11
"For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord, "plans for welfare and not for calamity, to bring you a future and a hope." Jeremiah 29:11
Dreams
Friday, May 23, 2008
Last night I had a dream. It was a heart-wrenching dream -- one of those dreams in which your deepest fear comes true, and you awaken in panic, fully believing the thing has happened. Pulse racing. Mind swirling. Heart breaking.
Dreams. What do we make of them?
In biblical times, they were nothing less than prophetic. Through dreams, God foretold (among other things) times of plenty and famine, the outcome of wars, the madness of one king and the birth of another. Joseph, Gideon, Daniel, Solomon, Joseph (husband of Mary) – all dreamers (and/or interpreters) of significant Biblical dreams.
But what are we to make of dreams now?
Crissy Sharp has a theory. She says dreams are compilations of all the incomplete thoughts of our day. A plausible possibility –ideas, situations, people rolling around in our sub-conscience, left to germinate and grow into a thought-life of their own.
Last night’s dream was set in a foreign city. (No surprise there.) It began with a trip to the dream-version home of a very real friend whom I haven’t seen in over a year. Robin’s daughter graduated from high school yesterday, and I thought about her all day long. The last time I visited Robin, her husband had just completed a basement expansion of their home.
In my dream, Robin gives us a tour of the dream-version renovations. There's a reason for the tour – perhaps a place to stay while living in this foreign place – but before I learn what it was, my dream jumps to another scene.
Our family is in the city – again, the foreign city, one with a feel of Czechoslavakia, or Lithuania, or some other Eastern European location. We’re standing, conversing, agreeing to go separate ways – to divide and conquer: Steven and AJ together, the other kids with me. After the allotted amount of time, we’ll meet up again at the subway.
Cut to the subway (which isn’t a subway actually, but some sort of subway/bus system hybrid). The kids and I are there, Steven and AJ aren’t. I’m pondering what to do; Emma’s suggesting we move along, and let Steven and AJ catch up with us. I’m wanting to wait; Emma’s insisting we go ahead.
In my dream, I relent, and we pay our fare. The kids board, and I haggle with the attendant over whether I have time to check once more for my husband and son. “Go,” she says, so I do. Back to the lobby; no Steven and AJ. Down the escalator and back onto the street; no Steven and AJ. Frantically, I run back to the attendant, who tells me the bus/train-thing (hereafter referred to as the “brain”) has already left.
There I am, in a foreign city, with three kids alone on public transportation, and a husband and son nowhere to be found. So I board the brain, take a seat, and notice, incidentally, that a smiling (unknown) Jenny Bartz is seated across from me.
My mind is racing. Are the kids ok? Where are Steven and AJ? Are the kids ok? Where are Steven and AJ? Are the kids ok? Where are Steven and AJ?
I pick up my cell phone to call Emma, but before I can dial her number, my phone rings. I answer, and hear a familiar, but anxious, voice on the other end. It’s Charlotte (Cooper), and she tells me that Vicki is listening in on another phone. (Vicki is Jackie Cooper’s sister, with whom I have no connection, but who, by the way, spent many years as a missionary in Romania.)
“Laura,” Charlotte says, “I have bad news.”
Pause.
“I don’t know how to tell you this.”
Pause.
“Laura, Steven was killed.”
At which point, I begin to wail. And then I awaken, roused from sleep by my own real-life wailing.
And in my state of semi-consciousness, somewhere between dreaming and fully waking, my pulse literally races, and my mind literally swirls (“AJ. AJ. Where is AJ?”), and my heart literally breaks.
I snuggle up to Steven, and reality gradually takes hold.
Dreams. What do we make of them?
Sherry Burnett, my friend and walking buddy, believes God communicates with us through our dreams. I’m inclined to agree.
Does that mean I think God is telling me not to go to Ireland? Do I think he’s warning me of some tragedy to come? Absolutely not.
But I do believe the Holy Spirit, in that mysterious way of His, uses our conscience, and even our sub-conscience, to reveal things to us about ourselves. Our fears. Our blessings. Our expectations. And, yes, the things we put our hope in other than Jesus.
Ken Gire, author of Windows of the Soul, writes about dreams: “In the Old Testament, when God spoke to Joseph through a dream, He used images that were familiar to him, images of the field where he and his brothers had worked. When He spoke in a dream to the king’s cupbearer in prison, He used an image of grapes. When He spoke to the king’s baker, He used an image of bread. Because all of these images were so familiar to the recipients, each sensed God was speaking to him directly.
“God spoke to those people then and speaks to us now in the language most familiar to us. I’m not talking about our native language, with all its regional dialects and colloquialisms. I’m talking about the language of our heart. And not the human heart in general, but each individual heart, with its own intensely personal images.”
One time, I dreamed that Jesus was holding my hand. I woke up believing and feeling as if he was really in the room with me. Was he actually “holding my hand?” Probably not. But the image was one which resonated with me, one of love and comfort, absolutely consistent with the character of God to His children.
Dreams. I don’t entirely know what to make of them. But today, I’m repenting of my fears. And I’m looking forward with faith to A&O next week. And I’m thanking God for a living, breathing husband.
Dreams. What do we make of them?
In biblical times, they were nothing less than prophetic. Through dreams, God foretold (among other things) times of plenty and famine, the outcome of wars, the madness of one king and the birth of another. Joseph, Gideon, Daniel, Solomon, Joseph (husband of Mary) – all dreamers (and/or interpreters) of significant Biblical dreams.
But what are we to make of dreams now?
Crissy Sharp has a theory. She says dreams are compilations of all the incomplete thoughts of our day. A plausible possibility –ideas, situations, people rolling around in our sub-conscience, left to germinate and grow into a thought-life of their own.
Last night’s dream was set in a foreign city. (No surprise there.) It began with a trip to the dream-version home of a very real friend whom I haven’t seen in over a year. Robin’s daughter graduated from high school yesterday, and I thought about her all day long. The last time I visited Robin, her husband had just completed a basement expansion of their home.
In my dream, Robin gives us a tour of the dream-version renovations. There's a reason for the tour – perhaps a place to stay while living in this foreign place – but before I learn what it was, my dream jumps to another scene.
Our family is in the city – again, the foreign city, one with a feel of Czechoslavakia, or Lithuania, or some other Eastern European location. We’re standing, conversing, agreeing to go separate ways – to divide and conquer: Steven and AJ together, the other kids with me. After the allotted amount of time, we’ll meet up again at the subway.
Cut to the subway (which isn’t a subway actually, but some sort of subway/bus system hybrid). The kids and I are there, Steven and AJ aren’t. I’m pondering what to do; Emma’s suggesting we move along, and let Steven and AJ catch up with us. I’m wanting to wait; Emma’s insisting we go ahead.
In my dream, I relent, and we pay our fare. The kids board, and I haggle with the attendant over whether I have time to check once more for my husband and son. “Go,” she says, so I do. Back to the lobby; no Steven and AJ. Down the escalator and back onto the street; no Steven and AJ. Frantically, I run back to the attendant, who tells me the bus/train-thing (hereafter referred to as the “brain”) has already left.
There I am, in a foreign city, with three kids alone on public transportation, and a husband and son nowhere to be found. So I board the brain, take a seat, and notice, incidentally, that a smiling (unknown) Jenny Bartz is seated across from me.
My mind is racing. Are the kids ok? Where are Steven and AJ? Are the kids ok? Where are Steven and AJ? Are the kids ok? Where are Steven and AJ?
I pick up my cell phone to call Emma, but before I can dial her number, my phone rings. I answer, and hear a familiar, but anxious, voice on the other end. It’s Charlotte (Cooper), and she tells me that Vicki is listening in on another phone. (Vicki is Jackie Cooper’s sister, with whom I have no connection, but who, by the way, spent many years as a missionary in Romania.)
“Laura,” Charlotte says, “I have bad news.”
Pause.
“I don’t know how to tell you this.”
Pause.
“Laura, Steven was killed.”
At which point, I begin to wail. And then I awaken, roused from sleep by my own real-life wailing.
And in my state of semi-consciousness, somewhere between dreaming and fully waking, my pulse literally races, and my mind literally swirls (“AJ. AJ. Where is AJ?”), and my heart literally breaks.
I snuggle up to Steven, and reality gradually takes hold.
Dreams. What do we make of them?
Sherry Burnett, my friend and walking buddy, believes God communicates with us through our dreams. I’m inclined to agree.
Does that mean I think God is telling me not to go to Ireland? Do I think he’s warning me of some tragedy to come? Absolutely not.
But I do believe the Holy Spirit, in that mysterious way of His, uses our conscience, and even our sub-conscience, to reveal things to us about ourselves. Our fears. Our blessings. Our expectations. And, yes, the things we put our hope in other than Jesus.
Ken Gire, author of Windows of the Soul, writes about dreams: “In the Old Testament, when God spoke to Joseph through a dream, He used images that were familiar to him, images of the field where he and his brothers had worked. When He spoke in a dream to the king’s cupbearer in prison, He used an image of grapes. When He spoke to the king’s baker, He used an image of bread. Because all of these images were so familiar to the recipients, each sensed God was speaking to him directly.
“God spoke to those people then and speaks to us now in the language most familiar to us. I’m not talking about our native language, with all its regional dialects and colloquialisms. I’m talking about the language of our heart. And not the human heart in general, but each individual heart, with its own intensely personal images.”
One time, I dreamed that Jesus was holding my hand. I woke up believing and feeling as if he was really in the room with me. Was he actually “holding my hand?” Probably not. But the image was one which resonated with me, one of love and comfort, absolutely consistent with the character of God to His children.
Dreams. I don’t entirely know what to make of them. But today, I’m repenting of my fears. And I’m looking forward with faith to A&O next week. And I’m thanking God for a living, breathing husband.
A night in the life of a little-leaguer ...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Eli Morgan. Cool dude. Funny guy. Winning little-league pitcher.
After years of playing outfield and second base, Eli this year began to practice pitching with his dad in the backyard. Every few days, I'd notice the two of them -- Eli working up that pitching stance; Steven squatting, ready for the fastball. Eli, foot in position, pivoting, lifting the leg, arm back, arm moving forward, releasing. Growing rapidly, changing drastically, getting stronger; the fastball burns. And every so often, a change-up added to the mix to shake things up a bit.
Left field is his position. Nine times out of ten, you'll find him there. But he has this love affair with the idea of pitching, and several times this season his coaches have let him pitch when his team appeared to have a win pretty-much secured.
Tonight was a different story. Eli's team, down 10-4 at the bottom of the third inning, prepared to take to the field for the start of inning four. I noticed Eli run onto the field, but not to his usual position. To the pitcher's mound, instead. The team was down, and Eli's coaches put him in to pitch.
Excitement (and much nail-biting -- from all the parents, not just me) ensued. In the next two innings, Eli walked one (maybe two) and gave up only 2 runs. His team rallied back, hit the ball, stole bases, ran-down the opponent, and beat the Oakland Athletics 13-12. And Eli, as pitcher, officially "got the win."
A 12-year-old outfielder's dream come true.
After years of playing outfield and second base, Eli this year began to practice pitching with his dad in the backyard. Every few days, I'd notice the two of them -- Eli working up that pitching stance; Steven squatting, ready for the fastball. Eli, foot in position, pivoting, lifting the leg, arm back, arm moving forward, releasing. Growing rapidly, changing drastically, getting stronger; the fastball burns. And every so often, a change-up added to the mix to shake things up a bit.
Left field is his position. Nine times out of ten, you'll find him there. But he has this love affair with the idea of pitching, and several times this season his coaches have let him pitch when his team appeared to have a win pretty-much secured.
Tonight was a different story. Eli's team, down 10-4 at the bottom of the third inning, prepared to take to the field for the start of inning four. I noticed Eli run onto the field, but not to his usual position. To the pitcher's mound, instead. The team was down, and Eli's coaches put him in to pitch.
Excitement (and much nail-biting -- from all the parents, not just me) ensued. In the next two innings, Eli walked one (maybe two) and gave up only 2 runs. His team rallied back, hit the ball, stole bases, ran-down the opponent, and beat the Oakland Athletics 13-12. And Eli, as pitcher, officially "got the win."
A 12-year-old outfielder's dream come true.
Blossoms
Thursday, May 01, 2008
The Morgans love to garden, and right now we're seeing the blossoms of our labor. G-Love is the perennial man; I like container gardening the best.
Enjoy the lovelies ...
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Next step: vegetable garden
Enjoy the lovelies ...
.JPG)
Next step: vegetable garden
Yard sale, anyone?
Monday, April 28, 2008
Oh, yeah. Been planning a yard sale (gotta pay for CORE classes) for months now, and just found out that the Twin Lakes association has planned our annual neighborhood yard sale extravaganza for this Saturday (rain date, next Saturday). Here's my official invite to bring your junk, hang out with me on Saturday, and make a little extra cash. (I'll be working to get things together in the afternoons this week after SATs, so you can come hang out for doing that too, if you want.) Takers, anyone?
Favorite photos from Ireland
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
OK, since I finally took a minute (which is literally about how long it took) to check out how to post photos, I'm hooked. (If I hadn't been so intimidated by the idea and knew how easy it is, I'd have done this long ago!) Anyway, I can't resist posting some of my favorites from Ireland. So ... for those who haven't seen them, hope you enjoy. And for those who have -- well, thanks for humoring me, and I promise to post something new very soon.
I'm an aunt again
Monday, April 07, 2008
This is my new baby nephew, Cayden, born April 1 in Houston. He was five weeks early, but after only 30 minutes in ICU, he went to my sister Sissy (Christy) and roomed-in with her for the rest of their hospital stay. Isn't he a cutie!
laborers needed
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Yea! G-Love, who knows everything about paint but doesn't like to paint, has finally given me the thumbs up to gather a group of friends and paint the bedroom myself. (The terra cotta walls with my lovely brown and blue comforter is just not workin' for me.) So, when the stomach virus is gone from our house and I have the paint in hand, do I have any takers? Anyone willing to paint with a friend?
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