Hard, stubborn callous;
How you cover the tender spots.
With your condemned skin.

How you need to be soaked;
How you need to be scraped away,
Diligently,
………….every day.

Or you become like snow the day after -
Hard packed and unbudgeable,
To all but the sharpest blade.

Yet the stubborn snow disappears,
With a soft stroke of encouragement,
When attended to swiftly.

Jonathan docked his little body at the island, his wiggles briefly anchored.

And as he munched on apple snack he briefly realized,

that body being satisfied was not enough.

And this thoughtful young man, looked up at busy mother, and

Thinking this to be his need, he commanded clearly and astutely:

“Mom, look at me and love me!”

And how this mother’s heart was arrested! So like a knife, cutting through the fog. And He was there too, burning a message into my heart.

He said “look at me and love me”
Dimple flashing out in need.
His bottom docked at island and
Wiggles briefly anchored.

And apple ceased to crunch,
Small head cocked to the side.
Silence, then commanding words:
“Mom, look at me and love me!”

Arrested was I,
With such desire,
Openly displayed
…And my busy hands were stayed.

To administer love.

And two twinkling crow’s feet were
Thrown back to gaze at delighted 4-year-old countenance,
So like a flower turning to face the sun.

And to think. His marvelous attention is arrested in like manner.

Dropping off the edge of the world
It all came into focus.
Like a smooth talker
Convincing me that the pieces would fall into place.

And they did, for awhile.

Then the hunt began,
And stamped colors jumped out at me
Like so many presents.

I brought them home.
And they made beautiful pictures for me.

I met you that Christmas when he and I were new
And heart hungered only for you.
When sun slipped under, eye would not go too
And heart watched restlessly for you.

And when you tapped him on the shoulder
He lost all sense of breath;
The rhythm of it lost, in wonder.

Then the rain began to fall.

And you saved it in a bottle,
And there was no time…
As heart gazed,
And imprinted

Your. exquisite. presence.

The substance of it remarked to my heart,
There’s another rock, over yonder.
It’s shape eluded and all precluded,
As heart dropped into the dark.

And stumbled through a craven view,
Until a pebble did find.

And heart rolled
This perfectly round circle of true,
In the dark…

And knew
That yonder lay

An invisible rock.

Last night I went to bed expectantly, only to be awakened at midnight by a husband who was traumatized with leaking pipes and storage stuffing.

“I want that storage area cleaned up tomorrow.” His words echoed, perhaps a catalyst for the nightmares which assailed during the wee hours. The layers of decorations, crafts, unsorted videos, and various odds and ends was a recipe for frustration, and though inwardly daunted at this task, I clung to our family motto with tenacity.

Keep. Moving. Forward.

In the midst of school, chores, cleaning and meals, I managed to carve out nearly two hours to sort, stack, stash and chuck all the stuff that hadn’t been dealt with at the proper time. And I’m happy to report a navigable, and workable area. Yet how unnecessary has been all of this frustration? All of this stuff, just stuffed into our storage area, with mild thoughts of finding time to “deal” with it later…until one day it becomes a major stumbling block in a time of trouble. Hmmm.

I’m one of those people who will tell you I’m fine when sometimes I’m not, because I think, I’ve got it sorted, when really, it’s been stuffed away. But lately I’ve realized that an emotional release is really necessary. In fact, if it builds up for a long time, it can become quite, well, “stinky”. Emotions were not meant to be encased and set on the counter to ferment like my sourdough or kefir. Especially negative emotions.

“Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice.” Ephesians 4:31

Surely these will rot the fastest, if left to fester, like a grudge to be nursed. The word nurse means to care for in a way as to provide growth and development. How perspective illuminates! To coddle such a creature as this? Yet the human heart so often chooses the bitter way, as negative emotions are shoved to the back, where they are tasted best. With my children, I like to pretend the bad emotions are something malleable, and squash them into a ball which we then “put away” from us. What freedom!

But, hey, what about the positive emotions? Joy, love, and so on. Shout it out, right? How many times have I lacked the velocity to express loving and encouraging thoughts to others? Somehow the spark of His glory that comes with these thoughts is lost when they are saved for later. They don’t fester, they fizzle. I remember many times sitting in church, thinking, wow, that was an amazing teaching. I should really go and tell this brother how he exhorted my heart. And the rarity of such a thing has suddenly struck me! Surely such a light will be stifled under the bowl of procrastination.

The Psalmist seems to always have an exhortation containing the word “shout”. Let them shout for joy…shout unto God with the voice of triumph….let thy saints shout for joy. And when was the last time I shouted? Probably when practicing Taekwondo with the children this morning. Ki-hap! So maybe I’ll try something new tomorrow….when we kneel in our little circle, I will stop shushing everyone, and instead encourage shouting! (In praise and thanksgiving of course )

Much better to shout than to stuff. Ah, the release! Many times it is tempting to bring the “stuff” to bear on husband, coming home with his own pressures still lingering. Yet we all know that’s not a good idea! So instead, I’ve got to re-roll an old groove. You know the one….where we take those little odds and ends straight to His transporter, and exchange them for peace, before they fall on some unsuspecting innocent!

I tried to write a beautiful poem, but this rap is all that came out [wry grin]…I guess there is always next week .

Stuff it in stuff it down stuff it all around,
And one day stuffing topples you to the ground.
When expected least,
This rotten beast,
Locks eyes with the skies
Of a hovering yeast.

Take it up, take it over, take it upon,
This wrap of His, He would have us to don,
Having been made meet,
We sit at his feet,
No pain, no strain,
The rest is O So Sweet!

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30

This morning I awoke to the crack of a rifle. And, rolling right along, I noticed the thump of the dogs tail, more subdued than usual, and how she peed with alacrity. And the trees! When had the masses of orange-brown delight turned into dead sticks stretching, reaching to reclaim their former glory? And this was the backdrop for my crisp Romaine, attached to the hope of fresh salad next to yesterday’s turkey.

Fall has always been my favorite season, because of the stunning colors; the beauty. It is enough to shake the introspection right out of this branch. I have to see! To live outside of myself. Emily Dickinson writes “because I could not stop for death, he kindly stopped for me.” For some reason her mind and the mind of Dylan Thomas are intertwined for me right now. It is as though this awesome beauty is one last ‘hurrah’! Or a burning against the dying; a refusal to go gently “into that good night.”

My children have skeletons hanging downstairs on the bulletin board. It’s part of our homeschool project to make the human body out of paper. So far, my four-year-old is the biggest fan. He simply adores cutting and pasting and putting stuff together. Typical, eh? Well, we’ve moved on and begun creating the digestive system, starting with the face. And without fail, each child decided to put their face on their skeleton. They look rather comical, hanging there. My oldest daughter drew hair around her face before she cut it out, and it looks a little eerie to see it resting against the clavicle. And what is time? Surely it is slipping through our fingers. But it is not lost.

The leaf who falls like rain upon the wind
Has left a bud that winter can’t rescind
The flower withers, falling from the sun
Yet sinks or scatters…newness is begun

The creature left with nothing to exhale
Installed another; death cannot prevail
In deep, or nest, in grass or in the womb
Unfolding from the shadows of the tomb.

The patterns from His hand they always tell
Of who us through the cycle will impel
The threads allotted treasures to be sought
Wonder life to brimming will be fraught!

Until the soul of man would gasp in awe
To realize that death has lost her claw
Seeing her from on the other side
Even though with her you still abide.

In verse…

Josh was up at 6 am
I took him to bed with me
Who stayed up till 1 am
Writing stocking poetry

We gathered round at 9 am
The Word Dad did expound
Then we opened up the socks
And the gifts were passed around

Jonathan at 9 months old
Had just about one present
But boxes and paper strewn about
Made him the most content

Mom happily cooked in the kitchen
For 1/2 hours and four
Then ham and mashed potatoes
Was ours and so much more

Grandma and Dale cleaned up
And 2 hours of nap were given
Then Christmas day was near an end
But it sure felt like Thanksgivin’!

For some reason, I have been eating up poetry lately. I love to read it and write it. Some of it is good, and some of it is lame, but rest assured, I am enjoying myself immensely! I had it in my mind to write a poem for everyone in the family for their Christmas stocking, but I only finished about 2/3 of the poems. I felt that one of them in particular was inspired while I was listening to Pastor Johnny preach the Christmas Eve sermon… the one for my dear mother-in-law. Here it is…

To every thing there is a season,
Every circumstance???a reason.
And so it is with Pamela Jane…
Whether there???s sunshine or whether there???s rain.

She does it all unto the Lord!
And PJ Tippy is never bored.
She???ll shine the floor with zeal and more…
She???ll break down a wall or put in a door.

But when all the mess is cleared afresh
There rises from the dust a loveliness;
With every picture in it???s place;
Every pillow and every vase;

The floors and windows gleam and shine;
Colors pose from walls so fine.
And when it???s all done she???ll walk out the door???
To give away blood and care for the poor;

To work at Goodwill and straighten out the church;
To help out some poor soul in a lurch…

But in her heart there is a special place
For those with wrinkles on their face.
She???ll care for them so tirelessly,
Until their eyes no longer see.

The Lord? He sees, and has a care
For a face that, to Him, couldn???t be more fair???

In thoughtfulness Pam sees a need
And gives a gift or plants a seed
And whether she???s Grandma, Mom, Pam or PJ
These words aren???t enough but that???s all they???ll say.

Let the words fall gently
Compelling though it be
To stir them up
They rise again
A weapon fit to flee

But when you let them lie there
Like a softly fallen snow
The heart is cool
There is no fool
And you are free to go

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” Proverbs 15:1

Note: I wrote this for David, because God does not want us to be puppets .