The Misty Mist

Mist

Yes, the mist is what I woke up to this morning. 7 am, not fully light but mostly. Naughty dogs cavorting and disappearing into it instead of doing their business, riverside. My voice echoing emptily. I stepped out into the back yard and the river was a glow of white- soft like a light bulb in puff. The dogs weren’t listening to me although my voice seemed extra loud. I came in out of the cold and made egg salad. I said, ‘Lord, could You please have the dogs come back?’ and tried not to think of them bothering any shy strangers from the bushy outlet they’ve forged that lets out near Sandy Cove park.

But the mist felt clean this morning- lingering sugar pie leading to eventual sun. I felt the small amount of peace that sometimes answers my prayers. And soon enough, feet moist and slightly dirty- two scraggly and naughty dogs came bounding up the hill. I shook my head and gave them a dog cooky, but they didn’t get any of my egg salad.

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In-Between Time

ComeCross

Waiting while He’s been taken from us;

Trusting that He’s true;

Longing for a glimpse of His face;

Death to Life imbue;

*

Like a Volcano rumbling;

Boiling under the Earth;

His Words challenge us to hope;

Explosion into birth;

*

Jesus I know You’re coming;

My Love, I know You’re here;

Convincing others about Your gentle touch;

Beauty beyond compare;

*

Those followers from long ago;

The ones who saw Your face;

They tell us to wait and hold on;

Our Savior conquered the grave.

 

Struggle Story Snippet

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m going to finish my current Work In Progress…

NappingElves

Today’s Snippet~ From my Possibly Doomed Crossover Story~

‘When he woke up his eyes opened to see a red-headed elf leaning over him. He blinked. That was certainly not what he expected. He had to stare in amazement. It was true. The fellow had pointy ears, Vulcan eyebrows, and purity of skin. The green, unblinking eyes were wide-spaced and glistening, and the red hair was curly and thick. Intelligence pierced down from the creature’s gaze.

“Greetings,” the elf said.

“Uh… hey,” he said back.

“Hey?”

“What’s up?”

“Wazzup?”

He was beginning to wonder if the elf was as intelligent as he appeared. He grunted as he got up, but hope soon died. He was still in the strange environment, although he could breathe and the temperature was comfortable now. He kicked at the ground and the surface, although it looked like weedy grass over soil, didn’t fray into dust and plant parts. It was for the visionary senses and not for touch. That wasn’t real soil, but only something that looked like soil. He sighed and turned and then stiffened.

Now there were two elves. They were dressed in slightly different clothes but they were identical as their two sets of green eyes watched his every movement. He wondered if he’d imagined cloned fairy tale creatures as he’d passed out….

“No,” he growled, refusing the possibility of more imaginary objects birthing from the sky above him and then falling on him.

“Forgive me,” said one of the elves, “but are you speaking to us?”

He turned and glared.

“Why do you speak English?” he demanded.

The elf shook his head.

“I’ve never heard the common language referred to as ‘English’.”

“Wait a minute! I’m speaking English all right, but now I really listen, you’re not! How is it your language comes out as English?”

“Our language,” said the other elf, “has not changed. You, however, do appear to be speaking a different language that ends up sounding like the common language to us.”

He shook his head. This was pointless.

“Did you bring me here?” he demanded. “What is this place?”

One elf turned to the other and muttered a comment.

“The Human looks confused, doesn’t he?” he asked his twin. “And he seems to be blaming us for his displacement into this strange place.”

“From that we can assume that he isn’t the one that displaced us,” the other muttered back.’

Last Words

JesusMount

Among Jesus’ last words before He knew he would be delivered to death were these:

John 16:7- Nevertheless, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; 10 concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no longer; 11 concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged.

So many people are upset by Christianity these days- thinking we focus on sin and judge others. But this is the judgement that Jesus came to deliver- for the ruler of this world. And the sin He talks of has nothing to do with the rulebook here- but instead is the sin of unbelief. Righteousness happens for us because Jesus died and, most important as is indicated here, rose again to go be with the Father.

Belief is what saves us. That God exists and cares about us. That Jesus died because God requires no sin and we’re incapable of doing that- even for a day. There’s only one sin that counts- unbelief, and one commandment above all else- to love. We don’t have to be perfect first, or change our spots. We don’t have to be perfect after either, although if we love God we hopefully try. The first and second commandment is to love God and others. Love. All we have to do? Believe and accept.

This kind of Jesus, is He really that hard to accept? Isn’t that the God a person wants to believe in? The great thing that Christians experience is this- we’ve somehow ( and not because we’re more worthy than others- on the contrary) stumbled upon the truth.

Wow. Let me repeat that. There’s all kinds of religions and opinions. But Jesus is real. He is. He really loves us this much. He does. None of my sins matter anymore, not the ones I did yesterday, am committing today or will accomplish tomorrow. I don’t carry them anymore. I’m like a child, skipping with no worries, holding my strong Father’s hand, laughing at the funnies, and with Heaven to look forward to instead of the fear of death.

All of that Jesus died to bring about, because He paid the price for us. Why did He have to- I was asked that recently? It’s more about the fact that He was willing to. He didn’t just preach love- He showed it. He didn’t love from a distance or with superiority. He came down here, suffered like we do, and proved it.

That’s what I’m remembering in the last days before Easter. Hallelujah, He has risen!

Guess Who?

As a writer, I like to give myself challenges. I’m wrestling with my crossover story right now, trying to blend at least four genres into one story. A few years ago I wrote this, my first (I think only) foray into Second Person. moonbyfirelight

You’ve come home again. You’ve gotten out of your car, grabbed up several articles, as you always do. Rarely do you walk without carrying something, a book, some mail, or your heavy purse. Your face is animated, as if you are conversing with yourself but having the presence of mind to keep the words from being heard by others. Distracted, you seem to catch a whiff of the air. You realize there are scents that blend with the airflow, that connect you to the world around you. You are always trying to put feelings into words. Nostalgia, atmosphere, a brief yearning crosses your face as you try to express it.

At last you look up, into the night sky. A tiny puffy white cloud sits back, out of the way. Stars illumine in jagged, bumpity lines. And there, in a frame of landscape, you see me. Blue, you think, glowing. Crisp, and mysterious, I see you trying to define me like your other impressions. What do I remind you of? Is there any specific memory that draws that slight pleasure on your face?

        But no. I have seen you too many times to suspect that. Memories blend into feelings for you, times that meant something, people’s faces and their bright spirits underneath. Seeing me, and my performance in the sky, your eyes go vague. I think you must be adventuring again, off on some tangent.

        I am solid. I am here, although from your perspective I change frequently. That too, can be charted, exact changes occurring with regularity, and smooth changes having to do with my path across your skyline. My path around the world, drawn like a line of light. I’m trying to connect the dots, to point to the others that populate the world, to remind you of all that I see.

        People sleeping, hiding, crying, and flirting. Arguments and closed doors and the occasional person who stops, looks up into the sky and sees me.

        So you think you know by feelings, that I am a good thing? I am constant, but not always seen. I light the way, but I give no warmth. I try to look beautiful, but I shrink at times. I have no feelings, but I think you like me. That’s why, sometimes, I take the time to notice you, too.

 

Today’s Snippet…

tree

From my short story called; A Reason to Sing; which is a companion piece to my novel; Roots Entwine. If you love it and want to read the rest, you can read the entire short story here: http://www.inkitt.com/stories/14370

‘The mass of trees began to sing, suddenly and with voices that echoed with power and flowed in through the open windows. The choruses made people leap to their feet, fall out of their chairs and run outside. Everywhere in his village human voices rang as well, exclaiming and even wailing until the unending note of the trees was almost drowned out. In Shenandya the trees were the world, and the Wildenbury tree was the top of mystic focus. And now the Wildenbury trees were singing, pouring out their non-human voices as if sound was a river draining from a spout. Everywhere people were stunned with amazement.

Lewolanen didn’t run outside with the rest. His breath caught upwards and tangled where he tried to suck it in. As miraculous as the sound outside was, there was nothing more involving to him at this moment than his dying father’s face.

At first when the singing began his father hadn’t moved. He hadn’t spoken in hours, no matter how Lewolanen had longed for him to change his mind. But when those trees began to sing the skin that was gray found a little color. The chest that was deflated peaked and filled with departing breath. And the eyes of his father opened wide and stared at the ceiling.

Outside people shouted, but in their house he and his father froze all movement and sound. Time stood still and the ethereal beauty of the trees’ song began to weave around his spine, holding him upright as he knelt by this father’s bed.

Long minutes went by, time in which the world of Shenandya tightened, citizens and wildlife alike growing almost reverent. The peoples’ shrieks disappeared out the window. Breaths were held as if they could cling to this miracle forever. Instinctively he knew that the people in his village had all fallen to their knees like he was. Although there was a legend that the Wildenbury trees could sing, no one had believed that it could actually come true.

At last the twining melody dwindled, closed in on itself like a bloom when the sun goes down, and disappeared. There was a slight rumble beneath his knees as if the trees shuddered into silence. The amazing occurrence was over.

Fresh-Desert-Lush

backyardBlur

Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert. (Isaiah 43:19)

 

One time long ago this guy I barely knew came up to me after an evening church service. It was sometime in the 1990’s. At that time I was really into Sunday worship and trying to give God my ‘as close to 100 percent’ as was possible for me. God was showing me things regularly. He was answering my questions. When I sang to Him, the beauty of His Spirit would touch me and I would cry. It was a sweet time- like Jesus has been sweet to me from the beginning.

Anyway, this guy~ he comes up and says while was looking at me he saw a picture or vision about me. I asked him what it was. He said he saw a desert- a wasteland with cracked dust spreading to the horizon.

Weird. I was having such a rich time with God- I wasn’t thirsty! It didn’t make sense at all. I couldn’t imagine a time when I didn’t have all the answers- for I had learned all the subtleties they don’t officially teach but still teach in Sunday church.

I’ve had a lot of stuff happen since then. I’ve recognized my own inability to follow God the way I thought I was going to. I put a lot of effort into things- and seemingly accomplished little. I discovered the answers I knew had two sides of perception and interpretation- the one involving speaking answers to someone else about how they could deal with their experience and the one I had to test as I personally lived through the tough times myself. I wasn’t learning anything new- because I was afraid to ask any more questions!

I could choose to look at this time as a barren time. I wasn’t leading anyone closer to Christ. I wasn’t raising kids who embraced all they could become with discipline and had no problems. I didn’t love God more and more until the selfish me faded into obscurity. I haven’t even learned how to keep a clean house!

But I’ve learned something. You can walk through a desert if you bring a full canteen. You can look around bewildered, saying, ‘which way now?’ Over there you peer- nothing much to be seen~ all around you, the same results. I’m stuck in the middle of my life. When I set out to follow Him, I was in the green forest of freshness. When I get to the end of my time here, I’ll glimpse the lushness around the doors of Heaven.

But for now I need Him still. Jesus I can’t find my way without You. I should be mature by now but I’m still a kid clinging to Your hand.

And how beautiful He is~ like a well springing up; I find He’s still with me. Whether I’m young and fresh or old and bitter, He’s there, seeing me as His child.

Candlelight

candle

When I was pregnant for the second time I worried. I loved my little Meribeth so much, what if I didn’t love the second child the same? I had, like other times when I’ve been pregnant, strange and disturbing dreams. I wasn’t sure I could accomplish all that parenting two children would require. My husband, who’d been the soul of attention and pampering the first time I was pregnant, suddenly was too busy with the burdens of work, a new mortgage and credit card debts we’d gotten under since the first time we were in this situation. I felt it like never before- I was on my own. We’d recently moved to our small town and I knew no one in the area.

We took a birth class from a wonderful woman and teacher, Penny Simkin. (She literally wrote the book on Pregnancy, Childbirth and the Newborn- check it out! http://www.amazon.com/Pregnancy-Childbirth-Newborn-Complete-medically/dp/074321241X/ref=sr_1_3?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1457832709&sr=1-3&keywords=pregnancy+childbirth+and+the+newborn) Anyway, she asked me why I was taking her class a second time. My two babies were only 17 months apart and I already knew what she had to teach me about labor and delivery. I admitted I was feeling insecure and she listened to me so kindly. I told her about my fears on love.

That’s when she gave me a beautiful analogy. Love, she’d heard it said, was like holding a candle. The flame burns steady and when the time comes, you can lift a new candle to the first and light a second wick from the first fire. It didn’t matter how many candles you lit, that first flame always remained. Love can spread and a heart can hold as much love as necessary.

That mental image she gave me comforted me I could love any additional child I might have and lucky thing. Eventually I had six babies and I needed all the patience and affection I could find! But the theory about the candle held true. I loved and loved some more. God made the human heart elastic to hold an endless amount of love.