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Archive for May, 2016

Every morning: it is a phrase that keeps repeating in my mind.
There is the morning sunrise.

There is the “verse of the day”.

There is the share of “Memories with” from Facebook.

There is a dog to let out.

There is the song of the birds.

And, now, there is a swing to occupy as I take it all in.


They say the more things change, the more they stay the same.   This morning, I can’t help but agree.

Back in the day, my sisters and I always looked forward to our respective individual week long “Grandmother Vacation” time.   Those weeks always included adventures unknown, and the few days spent resulted in traits, habits, and preferences I seldom even realize remain a part of my psyche today.

One of the mainstays to our week was always starting the morning out in the swing that resided behind her little bungalow.  It was a time to watch the birds, and to hear their songs.  Some days we would sit quietly.  Other days, she would tell stories.  Sometimes, her  energetic  little dog would be an unusually quiet companion.  Those moments in time seemed to move very slowly, but we didn’t mind.

Fast forward to 2016.   “New every morning” has a very familiar feel to it.   I’m finding myself spending each morning in a swing outside a little bungalow.   I’m usually alone (unless A’s dog joins me), but with my words, thoughts, and memories of days gone by, and the realization that the setting may have changed, some of the principal characters have gone on, but the heart of the story holds true.

Maybe that’s how Dorothy felt when she awoke/returned from OZ to find that the people she loved were right there with her, and bore an unusual resemblance to those who were helping her all along.

There was a season of life when words flowed from my brain.  For years (four years, to be exact), new, every morning, I would sit in a big chair in a dark room and let them pour out onto a blank tablet.

Time passed.  So too, did my father.  It was about that time that the words suddenly disappeared.  It seems that things were changing so quickly, I hardly even knew where I was anymore.

And yet, looking back, OZ was not that far from home.  Today, that season of words comes back to me,  new every morning, and I read them anew, and remember, right here in this swing.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart is full.  So, until tomorrow, may your birds keep singing, and may your sunrise be bright.

And “may the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in THY sight, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer”. Psalm 19:14

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My morning this day began like so many that have come before: a quiet awakening, a hot pot of coffee, and a majestic sunrise pouring through the windows.

My progeny (and all their pets) remained sleeeping, as did Little Frau.    As most mornings go, I began by moving slowly, pondering the day, wondering about events past, present, and future, and considering scripture.

A confession is in order here: it is difficult, when things are going well, to not feel like I had some hand in it, that this hour, this day, this year, in this lifetime, things are better because we are smarter.

We are not hungry.

We have technology.

We have the Bible in printed (and virtual) forms almost everywhere we reach.

We even have Christian music in our ears:

In this obsession with the things this world says make us happy
Can’t see the slaves we are in all the searching all the grasping
Like we deserve much more than all these blessing we’re holding
So now I’m running free into an ocean of mercy unending*

We, I, could not be any more wrong.   I wonder if Job ever felt this way when he arose each day.   Each day before it suddenly was taken away.

No, we’ve not done it any better.   We are just blessed.   And, with great blessings come great responsibilities.

No, this day, others woke up around this world, just like me, and just like men and women have done across the ages.

They, however may not have awoken in a quiet, climate controlled house.   They may not have walked a few feet to an awaiting cup of coffee.   And they may not have seen the sunrise, real, or figurative, a daily sunrise of their soul, if you will.

So come and empty me 
So that it’s you I breathe
I want my life to be 
Only Christ in me 
So I will fix my eyes
‘Cause you’re my source of life 
I need the world to see
That it’s Christ in me
That it’s Christ in me*

And so, I will think differently this day, as I attempt to in so many others.   That is no enlightenment: it is a realization, and a recognition that we live in the shadow of a blind spot.    A shadow that only the Sonrise can truly englighten…

*”Christ in Me” lyrics by Jeremy Camp

 

 

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