Early morning tea, watching the new day begin; Drops of diamond on emerald with the friendliest flower waving gently in the breeze; Resting in the cool shade of an old, old tree; Listening to a robin and blackbird symphony; The touch of loved one’s hand; Their laugh; A child’s laugh; Warm bread smell.
Others may have different Pieces to make up their world, their Heaven on Earth, but these are mine – my Little Pieces of Heaven.
Yes, I am aware that this is early, but it is time to me.
Down-covered limbs reaching for Glory; Wind cries “Stay inside! Don’t wander from your hearth!”; We rest for the coming year amid bright red and green; Spice and sweet fills the home; The promise of the Savior’s entrance shining ever brighter; Holy and to be Praised is our Lord, the One Who gives us this season of Joy.
When you use a sacred and beautiful instrument intended to exalt God (or to be used for His purposes or for all things good and pure, or else to warn and chastise), for unholy and base purposes, you profane and abuse one of the basic needs of humanity.
In this you flaunt your own wretchedness, you only show how unknowingly lost in darkness and full of despair you are.
Will you not turn from this? Why do you seek that which destroys you and eats up your soul as acid on flesh? You think you live, but you are dead, you think you are in control, but it is you who are controlled.
Will you not be free? Will you not be made whole and perfect? Will you not be made as clean as a New Zealand stream?
Soft evening sunlight; Pleasant breeze ruffling the Aspen; Ice cream flowing over the tongue; Red Mother’s Day flowers swaying over the balcony; Mother and younger brother drinking coffee and speaking of great and worldly things; Rocks aglow and tall; Pen unable to express the goodness and greatness of the Giver, from Whom all the holder’s blessings flow.
A breath of Autumn in the air; Leaves slow dance to the ground; Smell of rich, sweet food in the kitchen; Comfort of a too-big, soft sweater; Warmth of merry flames; Hot spiced drinks beside it; A feathered pen and paper with which to write one’s thoughts; Thanksgiving stomach-busters; Colors so bright and warm; Feeling of comfort and anticipation.
I hope you enjoyed this first attempt at putting feelings into words, specifically what makes Heaven on Earth.
There will be more to come, and until then, be blessed.
My daughter Hannah was home yesterday, and she followed me around as I cleaned closets and drawers, chatting. What fun. What a joy to know she still likes to talk to me.
“How can I help, Mom?” she asked. I had forgotten to eat, and knew sustenance would be good, so I requested a bit of a tea party. We were soon sitting on the balcony, joined by Rebekah, and enjoying fruit, nuts and herbal tea. Better still, we were enjoying conversation.
When I said I had to be gone for a minute and would be right back (putting another load of laundry on) they said, “You’d better be.” How lovely to be wanted, popular, loved. And what better way to achieve this exalted state than by loving listening.
This morning I was all set to return to the balcony alone for breakfast and research, but I couldn’t get away…
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Just as I predicted, with the election of Donald Trump, the American economy is exploding. And I believe that will mean fewer marriages ravaged by financial stress, more opportunities on all fronts, and most of all, I hope it means more moms will be able to be at home. Homemakers, homekeepers, hearthtenders.
I not only hope, I earnestly and diligently pray that we are about to, once again, become a society where people are nurtured in the most excellent place of all – home. And by the most blessed and privileged of all people – homemakers.
I wasn’t so privileged when I got the “education”, bought the Italian pumps and sported the chic haircut. I had a fancy office all my own and a degree – a piece of paper – to prove I was somebody.
But now I have “medals”. “You and John have medals,” a lady at church recently…
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Overthinking meals takes all the fun out of food. Trying to cook in a drab kitchen takes all the fun out of it. A messy kitchen is frightening and anything but fun. Buying in bulk takes the fun out of it. Trying to buy enough for two weeks (I live a long way from the store) is not fun. Buying produce picked from a vine six weeks ago in a foreign country that is basically tasteless is not anyone’s idea of fun. Extreme carb consideration is SO boring and un-fun. And not buying any “fun” food takes – you guessed it – the fun out of food.
One at a time, beginning with overthinkingit. “We can’t have spaghetti because: too many carbs; don’t have parmesan; out of basil, need Italian sausage to go with the beef, have to have salad with it, and only have two leaves of romaine left and no…
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It seems almost impossible these days (yes, yes, I am not that old) for movies, TV shows, books, media, etc., to be anything in the way of decent. Instead, most of us (and I’ve been guilty of this) waste most of our time on movies, TV shows, and false media reports that do nothing whatsoever to enhance us, but only make us bitter and/or jaded.
Why not take a walk, read a good book, take a short nap, or, if you just can’t bear to stay away from movies for too long, watch things that are actually good, like ‘I Dream of Jeanie’, BBC’s ‘Emma’, or the 1997 ‘Pride & Prejudice’ (or better still, read the books of the latter two). A good fairy tale (i.e. one that actually ends well) is always a good choice, too (and poetry, if you’re a real human, will fill your heart with beauty any time).
Or, if you’re more adventurous, write a letter, sing a beautiful old hymn, get rid of all the clothes that are too small, you don’t like, or are the wrong color, and find some that compliment you, that enhance your beauty. The same goes for your hair, your shoes, your jewelry, your perfume – or, in other words, DON’T. SETTLE. FOR. BLAH.
It isn’t worth it to be “normal”.
What’s more, you can even start a journal (and your life doesn’t have to be “interesting” – make your own magic). There is just something about having black gel pens (or quill and ink, they’re awesome too, if a little messy – newspapers advised) and a beautiful journal that just makes the world seem a little brighter (because it can’t see what you have written about it, ha!). You can put everything you did and didn’t do, said and didn’t say in a journal, and unless someone has the worst manners in the world (this also means no manners) and reads it, no one will ever know what you don’t want them to.
Or, if you think you can take on anything, try a new recipe. It’s never a good thing to stay in one place and never try anything new – it can cause you to feel old. Trying out new recipes is just, well, it has a certain “thingness” to it, as Bertie Wooster would say.
Even just studying flowers (as we all know, this is just another way of saying “napping in a sunny field on a warm summer’s day”) is one way to have a beautiful life (drawing them is even better). If you don’t like today’s fashion, make your own! Learn how to sew, knit, crochet, weave – whatever floats your boat (by which I mean, whatever you most enjoy).
If one’s life is not beautiful, then it becomes nothing more or less than toil, and that is not part of God’s plan. Work, yes, but not toil. Work is supposed to cleanse, not break.
I’m getting a haircut, long overdue, on Thursday. When the stylist asks me what products I use on my hair, she will be less than thrilled with my response, “bar soap and vinegar.”
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I like buying and using fancy hair products that smell like grapefruit and feel like silk and make my hair look marvelous. But I don’t like the price and REALLY don’t like the thought of the plethora of toxic ingredients going right into my head via those wide open pores in my scalp.
And then there’s that smug feeling I get when I look at my shiny hair and I think of how marvelously my organic citrus soap lathers (sometimes I use sandalwood), and how effectively my vinegar water rinses.
I use a solution of one part organic apple cider vinegar with three parts water,, mixed in a bottle and left in the shower. The…
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Freedom Warfare 